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[WP] Your power is that anyone will believe what you say, no matter what it is. You casually rob the store, assuring everyone that nothing is out of the ordinary, and later laugh as you offer an outlandish explanation to the flabbergasted police. | I have done things I'm not proud of. I've lived like a wolf among sheep, a god among mortals, a monster among innocents. People have lost everything because of me. I’ve seen the tears in the eyes of families whose houses I wanted, the fear in the stance of men and women I’ve robbed for everything they had ever worked to earn, a lifetime of work stolen away in an instant.
But it wasn’t until people started dying, deprived of everything by my actions, that it hit me – I was the one who wasn’t needed, the parasite on the back of humanity.
I stared into the mirror and drew up all the reserves I could muster. I looked down at the three lines I had scribbled out in preparation.
“You are a kind person, concerned only with helping others.”
I felt a sickening shame as the guilt of everything I had done struck with a vengeance. Tears brimming in my eyes, bile rising, I choked out the next line.
“You are an amnesiac, remembering none of the terrible actions you have taken in your past.”
Everything stopped. I blinked and looked into the mirror. Why was I crying? Who was I? Where? How?
I was holding a paper in my hand. The first two lines were crossed out, and beside the third was a note – ‘look into the mirror and read this’.
I looked into the mirror. “You are a perfectly ordinary human, with no special powers or abilities, and that is good enough.” | "Listen, I was just going to get thi sdown to the local orphanage."
"Oh, okay, fair enou- WAIT! WE DON'T HAVE AN ORPHANAGE!"
I always use my most outlandish idea, just makes the reward all the best better. "Oh, yeah you're right, I was going to deposit this in my house to further spend on other things to bolster the local economy."
"Right, have a good day sir." he tipped his cap to me. The other one was more... difficult.
Somehow he wasn't believing me, "Hey! Weren't you ment to get *all* of your bank money and give it to me?" Foolishly I gave him the number to call when he converted it into cash, the other policemen went down easy.
About a week later he came to my house with four duffel bags, throwing them into the hall of my tiny house, I was planning to move to the most expensive house I could find in the next city over. I took a tiny glimpse into one of the bags, the green shone like the sun, it felt so much better than simply walking in and taking it, the trickery was nearly as worth as the money itself... okay, not really but you get me.
I shut the door on him then heard ticking, it got louder and louder, I imediately rippied open the bags. A bomb.
10. 9. 8. 7.
I tried to lift it up, but it weighed what felt like a tonne.
3. 2. 1.
I felt every single part of my body flare up as I was blinded by the brightest and hottest light I had ever seen and felt. It slowed down and instinctually turned to my right, the police officer, his dark silhoutte. | 2020-03-06T11:47:32 | 2020-03-06T10:30:59 | 269 | 10 |
[WP] At the age of 16 everyone gets teleported into a small room. In front of you is a table with all kinds of meals from apples to gourmet meats. Whatever you take a bite of will determine what superpower you'll get. You are the first Person to take a bite of the table itself | Through the years the great coming of age feast was always looked forward to by everyone. Every power was known due to having being tried at least once and due to variety of different cultures. The people all knew very well what they know they will get before hand. Some families pick a food that is their traditional choice, others break this tradition with a choice of their own. One thing is for certain, it is only you that is teleported to that room when your time comes. There are others with your same birthday but it is just you with that whole table alone.
The apples gave superhuman endurance and speed. The fish gave superhuman intelligence. Carrots gave superhuman vision. Bread gave you limitless wealth. Other things have more complex superpowers. The more ingredients there were the more complex or the more mixed your powers became. Chicken noodle soup gave heat vision, x-ray vision, laser eyes, super endurance, flight, and telekinesis.
It is your turn to go and you disappear into the room. Time nearly stands still until your choice is made to pick the food you want. The room is dimly lit with an unknown source of light above it. The table is wooden and looks nearly mid 1300 century with hand made rivets holding the table in place. The table is surrounded by similarly looking wooden chairs at each end and a bench on both of the longer sides. The centerpiece is a beautiful combination of plants that make it almost look like Thanksgiving. Surprisingly, there are no plates on the table just the food and the table. The soups were contained in a bowl but we're over flowing the bowls they were contained in.
You chuckle as you know there are a few people that have bitten the centerpiece. The power they received is interesting they can shape shift from looking like different people to even different objects. This power is very useful with spies and it is fully taken advantage of in many espionage operations.
You sit at the end of the table pondering about which one to pick. You jump between them all after a while you notice something. Everyone has made a choice with everything. You can name all the powers by heart just by looking at each food but one mystery remains to you. What powers does the table give?
Your choice is made and you can tell what you want. It won't taste good but the table is the choice you made. Your curiosity has caught a hold and now you bend over to take that bite. Just as your mouth hits it, you are met with a complex set of flavors. It tastes like everything on the table and some flavors you can't even recognize. The flavor in your mouth turns to burning and then you feel a cool rush hit over your body as you disappear from the room.
You are returned to your class where you wonder if anything even changed. Your friends stare at you in hopeful wonder as they wait for you to tell what you picked. Many people were hoping you would pick the pot roast since it has some of the most desired powers to it. You try to muster something up but you can't figure how to or if you even have anything to summon upon. You shrug as you explain that you bit the table. Everyone of your friends laugh uncontrollably with disbelief. You feel like you kind of wasted your time but you thought it was a smart choice given the situation.
Suddenly it hit you, the force of all the knowledge in the universe, all the powers ever received from the table and more. Time is irrelevant to you as you can see things way far into the future and things way far into the past. All while staying exactly where you are. You become omnipotent and can give and take superpowers at will just like the table does.
Your friends see almost a galaxy glowing in your eyes as you finally know the purpose of the table and the food. The purpose was to test humanity with temptation while also having every power put in front of their faces. Just like you never judge a book by it's cover. With all this knowledge you finally snap out of it to go back to your math test in class happily writing out the answers as quickly as possible since you are omnipotent you do even look at the paper to complete the test as you teleport it in immediately to the teacher. There are many more important things to do but school comes first and you have unlimited amounts of time now. | "This is the opposite of Santa Claus," I said to myself, as I shambled alone through an endless white expanse.Some things you believe as a child, then one day you realize it was all a game for children. With the *transition,* well, I have to admit I never believed it. Yet there I was and it seemed as real as anything.*Maybe I'm in the North Pole*, I thought as I continued to walk into nothing, contemplating what exactly qualifies as a reindeer game.
In the distance I saw something dark fade into view, it quickly grew til I realized it was flying towards me at a high speed.I braced myself, but it just flew past me in every direction; the white faded into a dark field of stars, as if I was flying through the night sky or outer space. All was silent but I could feel a wind from the field of stars as it wooshed by.
And suddenly I could see a.... table? flying towards me. I got low and got ready to catch it with my head down in a grimace. I was ready to possibly get wiped out by the fastest table I'd ever seen.
It stopped on a dime, 1 foot in front of me but I still came off my feet stumbling backwards like an idiot. And there it was, an empty wooden table. Four legs, brown finish, just like the stories. There was nothing on it, though.
At that thought, a tablecloth popped out of nothing and immediately after that all types of food imaginable as the table expanded far to either side.
"Woah," I whispered, coming to my feet.
All was silent for a moment as I walked by the tableside, looking at each platter before me. All manner of sandwiches, pasta dishes, seafood and meats with every type of garnish I had ever seen; Lasagna, Cake, Chicken Tikka Masala, Empanadas, Croissant Sandwiches, Chinese Takeout were all present. The first step towards making a decision would simply be to overcome all the sights and smells I was being overwhelmed by.
"Take a bite," commanded a deep voice, echoing from all around me, "It is time."
I had thought long and hard about what I would do. I had seen how those who said they had eaten different foods had turned out. The psychics and telekenetics had all ingested different fruits. Those with super strength had eaten corn on the cob or corn bread, which I just so happened to be looking at as I thought about them. A bite of a bean and cheese burrito would give you the power of super speed... I don't know why.
I had studied all my life for this moment, though I doubted it would ever come to be quite in this way. I wasn't going to waste this opportunity. I would make a move no one could have predicted... not even this booming voice, were it an all powerful deity or something.
I got on one knee right by the table, lifted the tablecloth and took a bite of the wood. I felt the grain of the table splintering and cracking between my teeth. I had prepared for this by drinking whole milk everyday for the past 10 years. I pulled a piece of the twisted and wet wood fibers with my mouth like a god-forsaken dog.
Finally, I was able to get a piece of the table in my mouth.
There was a pure silence now; an eery stillness. Then an explosion of red light from every pore of my body. I was infused with the red light, I became a part of the light as it became so bright and all encompassing that there was no boundary between me and it. I was almost driven mad by the humming of the light that got louder and louder until there was nothing but the light and the humming and they were both one and the same and I was one with them.
The redness dimmed and settled onto my skin, like soft cloth. I was somewhere else now, too. It was... well, it seemed to be a wooden cabin. I was fatter too, as if what I had eaten had an effect on my body.
*Ugh, what have I become?* I asked myself, feeling fat and disheveled. I buried my face in my hands to find I was wearing black mittens.
I looked to my right, at the mirror... to see I was none other than Santa Claus himself. I ho ho hoe'd at the ceiling but there was no response save for the blizzard outside my window in the north pole. My very hubris had sealed my fate to hand out presents every year for eternity.
This story is canon. | 2020-03-19T10:28:48 | 2020-03-19T09:29:08 | 103 | 29 |
[WP] At the age of 16 everyone gets teleported into a small room. In front of you is a table with all kinds of meals from apples to gourmet meats. Whatever you take a bite of will determine what superpower you'll get. You are the first Person to take a bite of the table itself | I might be a lil crazy but I’m thinking I shouldn’t bite anything . Everyone always bites what’s in front of them and the powers range from making seeds grow into flowers to making clones out of water to jumping through time for hours. Sarah’s right beside me and she just bit into this banana and now she’s teleporting across the room. I don’t wanna have a banana I heard not eating the peel makes your powers overreact. The steak in the back smells good but I heard it’s a ruse. A dude in my neighborhood had the steak and all he can do is turn into a rabbit, and I don’t wanna be a limited animorph. The Red Apples are common cause they give you powers like Super speed or Bionic Hearing. Good powers but nothing fancy and I want something unique.
The Grapes seem to give you cloning powers and while that would be fun I don’t think having more than one of me would be good for myself. The Pasta in the back sounds good but someone else ate it and I can hear them screaming that their hands burn like lava and they can’t turn it off. Why can’t the turn on period for these things be sweet and easy. Jared is eating Baked Mediterranean Lobster and out of nowhere he starts to glow like he’s gonna explode. The explosion comes out of his fingers and he’s never been more embarrassed. I think I understand this shit now. Is it that the meals are strategically placed depending on what we would want? The everyday goods give you regular abilities, the cuisine gives you powers that people wouldn’t want and the stuff in between gives you whatever. So what would give me something else?
After walking round the room and tripping over a girl growing vines on her legs by eating French Shrimp I’ve come to the conclusion that there’s only one thing I can eat that’s gonna get me a power that no one else has. And it’s the Table that all the food is on. No one is either stupid enough or smart enough to ever try it but that’s why I’m here. I move a kid sneezing Needles out of the way and crouch down ready for the embarrassment and surprise of what I’m about to do. I grab the edge of the table and everyone stops and stares. Sarah runs over and asks me what the hell am I thinking and that I’m wasting my one bite. Jared comes over and has to ball up his fist while laughing otherwise I would be scolding hot right now with his hand on my shoulder. The Elders and Guards look on as more kids wait for me to bite. Looks like I have to get this over with and I take a bite. I feel my tooth crack and my body go limp for a second as a rush goes through me, every cell in my body feels on fire and my mind is racing a million miles per second.
I get up and I don’t feel a thing and even worse everyone is laughing their asses off. I look at Jared and I see a bunch of different numbers on his head, numbers that look like stats. His Life force for the day, his weak points in his body, his weaknesses for allergies, his loved ones and much more. Look at Sasha and I see how her body is reacting internally, where she went for the past week, the food she ate last night, her darkest fears. But it’s all like stats in a video game. I look at a elder and I see his memories, the kids he’s trained, the food he wants to eat and the money in his bank account. Everyone’s asking what my power is and the head elder says it should arrive in my body by the end of the week. As we leave the room to head to the debrief room I l go to the bathroom to look in the mirror and something tells me to tap the right side of my temple. I do so and I look down at my arms and my hands are shining blue. I extend my hand out and a blast comes out. I kick out my leg and a wave of energy comes out. I try to do my goku impersonation and blue energy covers my body. They yell that they need me in the debrief room so we can be assigned our squads. Guess I’m gonna have to learn my powers on my own time. | "This is the opposite of Santa Claus," I said to myself, as I shambled alone through an endless white expanse.Some things you believe as a child, then one day you realize it was all a game for children. With the *transition,* well, I have to admit I never believed it. Yet there I was and it seemed as real as anything.*Maybe I'm in the North Pole*, I thought as I continued to walk into nothing, contemplating what exactly qualifies as a reindeer game.
In the distance I saw something dark fade into view, it quickly grew til I realized it was flying towards me at a high speed.I braced myself, but it just flew past me in every direction; the white faded into a dark field of stars, as if I was flying through the night sky or outer space. All was silent but I could feel a wind from the field of stars as it wooshed by.
And suddenly I could see a.... table? flying towards me. I got low and got ready to catch it with my head down in a grimace. I was ready to possibly get wiped out by the fastest table I'd ever seen.
It stopped on a dime, 1 foot in front of me but I still came off my feet stumbling backwards like an idiot. And there it was, an empty wooden table. Four legs, brown finish, just like the stories. There was nothing on it, though.
At that thought, a tablecloth popped out of nothing and immediately after that all types of food imaginable as the table expanded far to either side.
"Woah," I whispered, coming to my feet.
All was silent for a moment as I walked by the tableside, looking at each platter before me. All manner of sandwiches, pasta dishes, seafood and meats with every type of garnish I had ever seen; Lasagna, Cake, Chicken Tikka Masala, Empanadas, Croissant Sandwiches, Chinese Takeout were all present. The first step towards making a decision would simply be to overcome all the sights and smells I was being overwhelmed by.
"Take a bite," commanded a deep voice, echoing from all around me, "It is time."
I had thought long and hard about what I would do. I had seen how those who said they had eaten different foods had turned out. The psychics and telekenetics had all ingested different fruits. Those with super strength had eaten corn on the cob or corn bread, which I just so happened to be looking at as I thought about them. A bite of a bean and cheese burrito would give you the power of super speed... I don't know why.
I had studied all my life for this moment, though I doubted it would ever come to be quite in this way. I wasn't going to waste this opportunity. I would make a move no one could have predicted... not even this booming voice, were it an all powerful deity or something.
I got on one knee right by the table, lifted the tablecloth and took a bite of the wood. I felt the grain of the table splintering and cracking between my teeth. I had prepared for this by drinking whole milk everyday for the past 10 years. I pulled a piece of the twisted and wet wood fibers with my mouth like a god-forsaken dog.
Finally, I was able to get a piece of the table in my mouth.
There was a pure silence now; an eery stillness. Then an explosion of red light from every pore of my body. I was infused with the red light, I became a part of the light as it became so bright and all encompassing that there was no boundary between me and it. I was almost driven mad by the humming of the light that got louder and louder until there was nothing but the light and the humming and they were both one and the same and I was one with them.
The redness dimmed and settled onto my skin, like soft cloth. I was somewhere else now, too. It was... well, it seemed to be a wooden cabin. I was fatter too, as if what I had eaten had an effect on my body.
*Ugh, what have I become?* I asked myself, feeling fat and disheveled. I buried my face in my hands to find I was wearing black mittens.
I looked to my right, at the mirror... to see I was none other than Santa Claus himself. I ho ho hoe'd at the ceiling but there was no response save for the blizzard outside my window in the north pole. My very hubris had sealed my fate to hand out presents every year for eternity.
This story is canon. | 2020-03-19T10:15:15 | 2020-03-19T09:29:08 | 44 | 29 |
[WP] “Do not go outside. Ignore all the cries for help, no matter how human they sound.” That was the last thing he said before he shut the basement door. | “Don’t go outside. Ignore all the cries for help, no matter how human they sound,” her father said as he hefted the bloody axe into his hand. He started up the stairs out of the cellar and stopped. "You can always tell when they're not human, listen. Listen!"
“Papa, no—no they *are!* They are people!” she cried pulling on his stained dark t-shirt. The fabric stretched against his body like diseased skin falling off the bone. “Don’t go back out there, please. It’s not true what you say. They’re real. They’re real people, please, papa. Just like mama and James were. Please, stay here.”
He turned on her. “Yes ... " he said, taking the axe in both hands. His eyes blazed with disgust. "Yes, that's *exactly* how they sound.” | My husband.
It calls to me. I hear him, yet I choose to ignore the voice. The voice has thick tendrils and a deep scream— and it sounds so much like my loved ones that I want to open the door and crash into their arms, but it sounds wet and slimy, and it'll leave eventually.
I hear my mother, again. She calls something, and my throat burns to scream the things I couldn't tell her, but she quickly turns into my husband. My child.
If I open the door, they'll be there, but I already know what their voices mean. It. Whatever it is.
It slams against the door, and my fingers scoop the dirt. It might be becoming smarter. I'm not here to find out.
It's been here for a while, and I can feel the warmth of the sunlight cascading through the cracks in the dirt. It isn't much of a change or much warmth, but my fingers sink into the dirt of this make-shift basement, and I keep crawling.
I hear my husband call for me once more,
"Do not ignore all cries for help,
no matter how human they sound," | 2020-04-26T08:20:00 | 2020-04-26T05:58:23 | 154 | 26 |
[WP] A person who is immortal, because they are so stupidly entertaining Death keeps extending their life just to see what shenanigans they will get into next.
EDIT: There is a good variety of responses here, from those who took the premise a bit too seriously to those who ran with it and made it hilarious. I had a lot of fun reading all of them. Thanks for replying! | Martin had seen death at his doorstep... he was there to congratulate him on his 100th close death. His bony hands extended in front holding a circular black cake with little skulls decorating the top.
Martin stopped in his tracks. Death usually only came to him when he had died, but today he made the first contact. Martin readjusted his glasses and straightened out his buttoned shirt that extended over his belly.
"This... was a surprise." Martin said while looking if there were any passerbys, "Is this poisoned or something?"
"Poison?" Death asked while his veil covered his head completely, "That would take the fun out of it. No, I went out of my way and got this from your favorite bakery."
Martin took the cake and examined it. The cake seemed fine, so he slipped his finger across its black frosting and stuck it into his mouth. It was delicious.
"This... mmhh is good." Martin complimented while sticking more frosting in his mouth.
"You're just so interesting to watch, y'know?"
"Y'know?" Martin asked, "What do you mean?"
"Well, I've never seen anyone so hilariously unlucky before in all my years of being Death. That stunt you pulled last week to get with a girl was just hilarious. How were you so stupid to go pick up a firework you already lighted," Death laughed, "The way you zoomed through the sky and crashed into the old oak! It was something to record!"
"Yeah, I guess." Martin frowned, "Well, was this all?"
"Yeah, this was all." Death said, "God also said 'hi!'."
"Hi, god." Martin finished and slammed the door shut. | The bag of popcorn had just been poured into the bowl when I tuned to my favorite channel of the day. Movie Theater Butter, sprinkle in a little bit of salt. Delicious. Maybe not as fancy as your caramel-glazed popcorn dunked in batter, but it's an easy-to-make dinner if you know what you're doing.
I reclined in my chair and started to settle into the show. The intro was playing, of a man doing ridiculously silly things, like having an anvil dropped onto his head, or conked with a hammer. Classic 80's cartoons. I chuckled a little bit as I munched. I'd seen this show maybe a thousand times and the intro still gets to me.
The intro fades out, and I turn my attention to the main character. My cat, Salem, jumped onto my lap just as he was about to start the stunt. Taking a running start of about fifty feet, he did a triple cartwheel across the tops of cars while people chucked hot charcoal at him. I'm certain everyone was drunk as hell, but who cares. It's funny.
But someone forgot to park their car, and he missed the save. Landed right on his head, five feet down onto the concrete, people still chucking coals at him 'til they realized what happened. When they lifted him out of that pile of hot coal, he was covered in burns and had a gash in his head.
I tell you what, that was funny as shit. I roared in laughter, spilling my popcorn everywhere, and scaring Salem into some random corner. Every single day I'm here to watch that show, and it kills me every time.
So why don't I make you a deal? You keep performing for me every day, and I'll keep saving your life. Give you a full recovery. Right until you're too old to do it. And I'll bestow a few gifts to my favorite actor once the final episode releases.
Think it over. Take your time. | 2020-05-05T23:45:40 | 2020-05-05T22:20:06 | 71 | 34 |
[WP] You are a mutant in Xavier's school for gifted youngsters with the power to teleport, well that's what you tell everyone. In reality you can pause time and you're not ready to be an omega class mutant. | All the students were getting up to leave class when he heard, "Matthew, might I speak to you for a moment?"
"Of course, Professor."
Professor Xavier had always been kind to him. Matthew long suspected that Xavier knew he was hiding his full potential but the professor never pushed the subject and treated Matthew like all the other students. He liked feeling normal here. His long standing lie was that he could teleport. Whenever they were required to practice their abilities it put Matthew in a tough spot. The teachers were constantly trying to push his limits and get him to teleport further and further. It's tiring having to run such far distances constantly. Yesterday, the teacher had asked him to try to travel to someplace he had previously been. After faking an attempt for an hour or so the teacher finally relented and suggested they take a break.
"Professor Munroe tells me you had a difficult time yesterday. She was worried she might have pushed you too hard and wanted to make sure you were okay."
"I-I'm fine professor. She didn't push too hard. I tried picturing different places but nothing happened. I don't know if I'm able to teleport like that."
"Well, things happen at different paces for everyone. I'm sure you've heard of Kurt by now?"
"Yes, sir."
"When he first came here, he was limited by what he could see as well. He could travel to anywhere in sight, but beyond that, he was too frightened to push himself. It takes extraordinary strength to push limits set by our minds. In time, I'm sure you will be able to overcome anything you set your mind to."
"Thank you professor."
"Matthew, have you made any friends since you started here? I don't see you with the other students very often."
"No sir, I-I think they are frightened of me."
"Why is that?"
"They avoid me, and I hear them saying things about me."
"Teleporting is an enviable gift. I'm sure they will come around in time."
"I guess."
"Matthew, are you sure there isn't something else? You know I would never use my gift on anyone without permission but it doesn't take a mind reader to see that something is bothering you."
"Professor, c-can you keep a secret?"
"Of course, Matthew. Anything you tell me would be kept between us."
Eyes to the floor Matthew said, "I have been lying to you and the other teachers. I can't teleport."
Professor Xaviers remained quiet as if telling Matthew to continue.
"I-I was afraid if you found out what I can do, that you would make me part of your advanced class. I just wanted to feel normal for once. Everyone my whole life has called me a freak and when I got here, I was just another kid. I'm so sorry I lied professor."
"It's okay Matthew. I understand. If I may ask, what is this gift that you were afraid to speak of?"
"It's easier if I show you."
"Lead the way."
The two of them left the office and went into the crowded hallway watching the kids on their way to various classes. Matthew reached over and set his hand on Xaviers shoulder and everyone froze. Turning to Matthew, Xavier said, "Well, it certainly is an extraordinary gift. The ability to freeze time is no small feat. I can't say I've ever met another mutant with this ability, Matthew."
"Are you going to kick me out of the school for lying to you?"
"No, Matthew. I understand why you kept this from us. It is an incredible burden to have control over time. I imagine it can be quite lonely."
Nodding his head Matthew was tearing up a little.
"Matthew, I'm going to keep this between us until you're ready to tell other people. Would you be okay with having private lessons with me once a week to learn to better control this power of yours?"
"Yes, Professor."
"Very good. Bring us back to real time and let us join the rest of the students. It's nearly time for your next class." | "What's up, Diego"
"Nothing, Mr Summers" he said rolling his eyes. If he was any other mutant Scott would've ignored him, but Diego, or as his classmates called him, Dio, was special. He had the special ability of teleportation, which in itself is extremely rare, but unlike his friend Kurt, Diego could do it effortlessly. He could even go to places he hadn't been before, even different countries! But what was more perplexing about the young Mr Brando, was his abnormal levitation ability. Of course, this was kept secret. If Magneto found out, Diego would be in great danger. Scott had seen Diego's secret ability. He could lift anything, from road rollers to cranes. Given a couple years, Diego could become the greatest mutant in history.
"Cool, cool" It was always awkward to talk to the kid "Anyway, the Professor wants to talk"
"Ok, sir. I'll go there now" And suddenly Diego disappeared. No smoke or a trace he had ever been there. It was disorientating, to say the least.
"I guess I'll go to Jean. See what she's doing" Scott said before walking away.
\----------------------------------------------------------------\*\*\*-------------------------------------------------------------------
"You wished to see me sir?" Diego asked curtly.
"Oh Dio! Don't scare me like that!" Xavier chuckled "Yes, well I called you here today, to discuss your powers." They were the most mystifying aspect of the boy. No one could really decipher how his mutation worked. Not even Beast. Well, until now that is.
"Diego" Said a gruff voice, coming from behind Diego. There appeared the bluest and greatest scientist on the planet. Beast."After almost 5 years since you arrived in front of the academy, we've finally deciphered your DNA and mutation" He said excitedly.
"And it appears that you've been lying to us" Xavier continued "You don't have a trace of mutant DNA which is even close to Kurt's. In fact, your DNA, is closest to Shadowcat's. A time skimmer" He said almost angrily "You can control time can't you? Although that doesn't explain the telekinesis."
"How about I show you two" Diego said, nonchalantly "Come closer to me" And they did. Both men with their hands on Diego's shoulder.
# "THE WORLD!"
Suddenly the entire room turned black and white. "What happened?" Xavier said. He looked down to his watch "By god..." Time had stopped.
Beast turned to Diego "Dio! This is amazing! We could defeat Magneto with thi-" Suddenly Beast was cut off. Xavier turned to blue man quickly and was shocked at what he saw. A giant, gaping wound through his chest and a giant, fist which could only be seen thanks to the blood.
"DIO! WHAT HAPPENED!" Xavier shouted, looking distraught and terrified for the first time in his life. He stared at Dio but was met with a cruel, sadistic smile.
"I'm sorry Professor, I can't have you knowing I'm an Omega level. Not with my plans!" He laughed, almost manicly.
"Damn you boy!" Xavier said before using his power. If he could just break the Dio's mind, he could possibly save himself. Alas, instead of victory, he too was met with hole through the chest. "H-howww..." He said, his final word drifting.
"Did you truly think that you could be me! I, Dio Brando! I have been training forever for this moment! Of course I wanted to do it from the beginning, but I wasn't strong enough. I really must thank for the training! Instead of 10 seconds, I can do 10 years! It truly is marvellous!" Dio shouted "Now, I really must leave." And with that, he left the bloodied room.
# "THE WORLD!"
*Tick Tock.* Time started again.
Dio opened the door and let the most loudest scream he could. Suddenly, almost all the mutants in the manor arrived. "What's the matter Diego?" Asked Storm.
All Dio did was point to the room. "Oh my god" screamed Jean, staring in shock as the two lifeless corpses laid on the ground.
Suddenly, everyone pushed forward, attempting to save the mutants. Dio snuck behind them all. And as they all started letting tears out, Dio smiled. He smiled as he was one step closer to his dream. **APOCALYPSE.** | 2022-11-09T16:36:25 | 2020-07-15T05:19:54 | 9,106 | 72 |
[WP] You are a mutant in Xavier's school for gifted youngsters with the power to teleport, well that's what you tell everyone. In reality you can pause time and you're not ready to be an omega class mutant. | All the students were getting up to leave class when he heard, "Matthew, might I speak to you for a moment?"
"Of course, Professor."
Professor Xavier had always been kind to him. Matthew long suspected that Xavier knew he was hiding his full potential but the professor never pushed the subject and treated Matthew like all the other students. He liked feeling normal here. His long standing lie was that he could teleport. Whenever they were required to practice their abilities it put Matthew in a tough spot. The teachers were constantly trying to push his limits and get him to teleport further and further. It's tiring having to run such far distances constantly. Yesterday, the teacher had asked him to try to travel to someplace he had previously been. After faking an attempt for an hour or so the teacher finally relented and suggested they take a break.
"Professor Munroe tells me you had a difficult time yesterday. She was worried she might have pushed you too hard and wanted to make sure you were okay."
"I-I'm fine professor. She didn't push too hard. I tried picturing different places but nothing happened. I don't know if I'm able to teleport like that."
"Well, things happen at different paces for everyone. I'm sure you've heard of Kurt by now?"
"Yes, sir."
"When he first came here, he was limited by what he could see as well. He could travel to anywhere in sight, but beyond that, he was too frightened to push himself. It takes extraordinary strength to push limits set by our minds. In time, I'm sure you will be able to overcome anything you set your mind to."
"Thank you professor."
"Matthew, have you made any friends since you started here? I don't see you with the other students very often."
"No sir, I-I think they are frightened of me."
"Why is that?"
"They avoid me, and I hear them saying things about me."
"Teleporting is an enviable gift. I'm sure they will come around in time."
"I guess."
"Matthew, are you sure there isn't something else? You know I would never use my gift on anyone without permission but it doesn't take a mind reader to see that something is bothering you."
"Professor, c-can you keep a secret?"
"Of course, Matthew. Anything you tell me would be kept between us."
Eyes to the floor Matthew said, "I have been lying to you and the other teachers. I can't teleport."
Professor Xaviers remained quiet as if telling Matthew to continue.
"I-I was afraid if you found out what I can do, that you would make me part of your advanced class. I just wanted to feel normal for once. Everyone my whole life has called me a freak and when I got here, I was just another kid. I'm so sorry I lied professor."
"It's okay Matthew. I understand. If I may ask, what is this gift that you were afraid to speak of?"
"It's easier if I show you."
"Lead the way."
The two of them left the office and went into the crowded hallway watching the kids on their way to various classes. Matthew reached over and set his hand on Xaviers shoulder and everyone froze. Turning to Matthew, Xavier said, "Well, it certainly is an extraordinary gift. The ability to freeze time is no small feat. I can't say I've ever met another mutant with this ability, Matthew."
"Are you going to kick me out of the school for lying to you?"
"No, Matthew. I understand why you kept this from us. It is an incredible burden to have control over time. I imagine it can be quite lonely."
Nodding his head Matthew was tearing up a little.
"Matthew, I'm going to keep this between us until you're ready to tell other people. Would you be okay with having private lessons with me once a week to learn to better control this power of yours?"
"Yes, Professor."
"Very good. Bring us back to real time and let us join the rest of the students. It's nearly time for your next class." | “Oh god, come on move, please move!” A young boy yells in despair. Everything was frozen, before it always lasted a couple seconds but now? 30 minutes. Every minute felt as if it was its own branch of eternity, as he could see things stuck right before emotion.
His teacher was named Kurt Wagner, also known as Nightcrawler. His power was that of teleportation, same as the lie the young man said. He wanted the two to teleport at the same time to, as Kurt felt teleporting’s toll for beginners is best experienced with someone to talk to after.
He saw the blue and red flare, and sulfuric gust around Kurt’s party visible body, the grass being blown in the wind stuck, the birds no longer flapping their wings, and worst of all the lack of noise.
“Come on Travis unfreeze it, unfreeze, unfreeze!” He fell to his knees. He didn’t know if when he spoke it was actually his voice or a thought. He crawled up to Kurt’s semi corporeal body yelling,
“Mr.Wagner please you have to hear me!” Feeling and touching was weird too. Something about it having no resistance to the force of his pushes doing nothing. He scrambled to his legs,
“Professor! Mr.Logan! Mr.MCcoy!” He screamed at the frozen figures nearby teaching a class. He yelled tome and time again. Nothing...just isolation.
“Please...something, anything!” His breathing was unhitched, no rhythm. It was the only sound he could find solace in, and it was discourse with no melody. Finally, as if time had pity for the poor soul, he heard a new noise:
BAMF
“See not that bad ri-Travis?” Travis looked up to see Nightcrawler running to him distressed,”Travis what happened?!” Travis had a small smile before tearing up saying,
“I-I need to talk to you and the professor.”
(Some time later)
“-and I know should’ve beeen honest it’s just, I’ve always seen on the news or online stories about omega level mutants, and always thought there powers were so cool but...actually having one?” Travis explained looking at his hands and at the professor, who had allowed the young boy to talk without interruption. It seemed he had held this in his heart for so long, the professor would allow him to let it go.
“I-I don’t wanna be some god, I wanted something simple and cool like lasers or something...What I freeze time and I don’t unfreeze it? Plus aren’t omega level mutants always used or destroyed or something?!” His breathing started to get unhitched again which is where the Professor stepped in.
“No one is gonna use you Travis, not will I allow you to be hurt under my care.” Travis looked at the Professor in the eye as his wheelchair came around to get closer to him,
“I understand your fear of this power, in fact I too had similar feelings to my own mental capabilities, everyone’s voices and issues in my own head made me feel crazy.” Travis nodded, though his breathing was his main concern.
“Your ability is great and while I cannot understand fully the feeling of isolation you may feel, I can see why the burden of this power could be too much for you while you’re so young.” He then got close to Travis looking him in the eye asking,” Do you mind if I enter your mind for a brief moment?”
Travis nodded, though he gave a confused look. Suddenly Travis saw young mutants, people he thought were heroes. Cyclops, with his beams all over the place, destroying buildings, and too scared to open his eyes.
He saw Beast struggling to look at himself, as well as roaring in pain and agony. Rouge isolating herself, Wolverine in a rage, and then a young Charles Xavier clutching his head. And through all of them, he sees them slowly grow, and gain control.
Travis opens his eyes and Xavier smiles saying,”I will hold your secret to the students, however for your powers I will train you in keeping calm, as I believe your anxiety acts as the mental barrier keeping everything frozen.” Travis still getting over what he saw blinked as Xavier continued,
“Or I can wipe this power from your brain, lock it in your mind under mental locks so you no longer fear freezing it, though I will leave this to you.” Travis took a breath, before standing and saying,
“Alright professor, I’ll try training.” | 2022-11-09T16:36:25 | 2020-07-15T05:56:18 | 9,106 | 66 |
[WP] He rushes onwards like a bloody tempest, destroying all in an attempt to free you from the stake that binds you to the pyre at your feet. For before he was a Hero, he was the boy that gave you flowers. And before you were exposed and branded a Witch, you were the girl that taught him love. | Tatianna, bound to the pyre as she was, couldn’t so much as turn her head. So when a pair of blue eyes met hers from across the field, there was nowhere to look. Alastir Lagon, High Disciple of the Shan Temple, saw her. Shock came first. His eyes slipped from hers as he seized a black coated Hunter, dragging the man forwards till their faces were inches apart. They spoke. The Hunter shook his head at something, and Alastir stilled, eyes returning to hers. Rage. Tatianna thrashed, screwing her eyes shut and screaming into her gag, pulling magic away from the meager wards that held the fire at bay to tear at her bonds. Nothing. The Hunters had done their work well.
When her eyes opened, even through the blurring of tears, she could see that Alastir’s face had lost all traces of emotion, lifeless as a marble statue. The War-Trance of the Shan. Magic left Tatianna once more, a mental plea for Alastir to leave, for mercy, for restraint, begging him not to destroy his life to save her. Her wards cracked as she reached out to Alastir’s mind, finding a single image waiting like sunlight in a clearing: it was her, sprawled across Alastir’s chest, as they lay in the same field that she now burned in.
Alastir felt Tatianna touch him, her mind against his, familiar as home. *Please*, she begged. *Please don’t.* Alastir’s heartbeat slowed in the grip of the Music. One more prayer for mercy he couldn’t answer. His right hand, the one that bore a simple iron ring from Tatianna, was still clutching the throat of a Hunter. He shut it in a fist. Bone and cartilage and flesh gave like wet sand as the Harmony rose to a screaming crescendo in his soul, deep music pulling him forwards. Weapons were drawn, mirror bright in the noonday sun. Orders were shouted. Alastir began his dance.
In the Music, Alastir was everywhere. He could see the crossbow bolts snaking towards him. *Step.* Three men died, porcupines with quills of wood and steel. A spear stabbed down on his spine. *Catch.* A Hunter was torn from his spear formation and killed, leaving a gap that Alastir filled with the screams of the dying. Throughout it all, Alastir moved towards Tatianna. He knew nothing about Witchcraft, but the Music was clear: her wards would fail soon, and the fire would lash her skin with its embrace. *Seize.* Alastir kicked an axe from the ground into his hand, hurling it across the field. Driven by the Music, it cut the chains binding Tatianna. Cries rose from the massed villagers as they realized the witch was free, and the Harmony grew to include them in its song. | Carmen heard the shouts of the soldiers at first she had heard the cardinal giving her last rites before they carried out the sentence. But now she heard soldiers shouting. She opened her eyes and saw a miraculous thing it was Ben running toward her riding a beast of some sort her Ben was coming to rescue her. Carmens heart leapt in her chest but she knew Ben was a kind soul and no warrior she closed her eyes for fear of the ladt thing her eyes would see being her love slain by the soldiers that sentenced her to death. However she opened her eyes again as she heard a loud thud on the platform she was bound to looking up she saw the largest orc she had ever seen he bore no weapons but he was large and heavily muscled. The 2 soldiers that stood guard over her pyre turned and rushed to run him down one with his spear the other a sword. Carmen was going to close her eyes again she hated the site of blood but she was transfixed. She turned towards where she last saw Ben he was rushing through the crowd still mounted on the beast it looked like a large weasal clad in armor. She heard his voice shout "save her" the orc smiled at this and replied "Thats the plan" the guards on the platform tried to run him down but he sidestepped the spear grabbing it and breaking it over his knee the other guard tried to swing his sword but the orc grabbed his wrist and with a sickening snap broke it and pushed him away. The formerly spear wielding guard drew a dagger and rushed the orc again not deterred by his colleague being disarmed. The orc side stepped one strike then 2 before smiling at the guard and grabbing his dagger hand he punched the guard once twice three times before he finally fell unconscious or dead carmen could not tell. The cardinal having seen this all grabbed his torch and begain rushing towards the tinder at Carmens feet the orc stopped smiling and ran Carmen had never seen something so big move so fast. The orc leapt and planted both his feet in the cardinals chest sending him and his torch into rhe crowd of stunned onlookers as they were pushed away by Ben riding atop his mount. The orc collected himself and went to Carmen he eyed the post she was tied to and before she could say anything he punched the post just once and the entire thing splintered to pieces.
Ben cleared the platform atop his mount taking his lover jnto his arms Carmen cried tears of joy at this reunion through sobs she said "I thought I would never see you again" Ben shook his head kissing her "I came as quickly as I could and I brought help he pointed to the orc this is my friend Thorin. Thorin gave a slight bow "friend is a strong word for a sellsword" he said laughing. Carmen scoffed "how did you afford a sellsword? " Ben shrugged sheepishly "if I work for him he said he would do one job for free" and this creature? Carmen asked. Ben laughed "This is Jezebel she is a war weasel I learned how to tame her from the great beast master Maroom anyway my love we must leave before they gather their wits. Thorin nodded in agreement away then he said. The three mounted the war weasel and were off. | 2020-11-16T05:06:48 | 2020-11-16T05:05:51 | 134 | 13 |
[WP] It was a freak accident, but you died. As you stand over your body someone steps next to you and speaks. "I'll send you back if you do me a favor." | For every moment in your life, there's a non-zero percent chance to die.
Of course, full-throttling a motorbike with failing brakes down Mt. Everest, dressed in nothing but a t-shirt and shorts is much more likely to send you to the afterlife than taking a step; but, how many people do either.
Of the near eight billion people on Earth, maybe one of them will ever do the former. Every soul does the latter, however, thousands of steps each day. Even if you were just walking on the calmest of streets with nothing but concrete and those flowers that pushed through the cracks to accompany you, there was a non-zero chance to die.
That non-zero chance was me. I didn't even know I died.
There was a strange sense of detachment. I looked at my body, sprawled on the floor, seeing crimson ooze out of my head due to an improper fall. There were no tears or sighing or lamenting. Nothing but a voice beside me.
"I'll send you back if you do me a favour."
He? She? It? If shifting tectonic plates made a sound, this would be that. A voice that indicated its owner could manipulate Earth as they pleased, a simple, articulated sentence with each word that soared and dripped with power.
I turned around. I was greeted with a floating being, shrouded entirely in a black cloak, ethereal mist and tendrils emanating no matter which way I looked. As my eyes focused onto them, the stygian darkness only crept in, encroaching my visible domain, until nothing was left but--
"Death," they said, a myriad voice.
I nodded.
"Ray," I said. I courteously hung my head.
"So," Death continued. "Will you take our offer?"
"Has any person not taken up that offer?" I asked. "I didn't even die in a cool way. I just tripped over a stupid pebble."
"We do not offer resurrection so easily," Death said.
"But not zero."
"Not zero," they confirmed with a knowing nod.
"No side effects? No tricks?" I asked, warily. I had become surprisingly lax, right foot tapping in the air, my fingers drumming on my thighs. Yes, Death was in front of me, but they were surprisingly disarming.
"None."
"Then sure, why not? What do I have to lose?"
"We shall see," they said. They smiled, near inexplicably. I don't know how I noticed through the dark, dark veil before me.
A hand poked out. It fluttered and changed, to whoever from whenever at wherever. Different sizes, shapes, some worked to the bone, others plump with nourishment. But they were all attached to Death.
"Do you understand?" Death continued.
"Not really," I said.
"You will," Death said. "For now, I shall return your soul to your vessel."
"What's the favour?"
"You will know, after you've lived your second lifetime," they said. "Do not worry. There will be plenty of lifetimes for you to know your role, for we will teach you all that we know."
"I see," I nodded. "I think I'm beginning to understand."
"That is good. Life, afterlife, life, is the usual process," Death said. "Life, life, then afterlife is unusual. But many people have done it."
"Non-zero," I said.
"Non-zero," they affirmed.
"Why me, though?"
"You understood," Death said. "Life is unfair. We all did different things. But death is a little fairer, and we all know our parts to play."
The black edges crawled, inward and onward, and then they covered the entire irises of my life.
"Do not worry about it now," faint, fading. "Live."
I awoke with a jolt.
A wince of pain escaped my clenched teeth, and my right hand moved to my forehead, touching it gingerly. Surprisingly sore was the verdict.
I looked up at the sky. It seemed much later than I remembered.
Picking myself up, I remembered faint echoes reverberating in my eardrums. What was that about again?
As I stood, I stared straight at a stray pebble on the pavement. I kicked it out into the road, devoid of its lifeblood. It bounced once, twice, and stopped.
It was just a pebble. Nothing important. Right?
"What are the chances?" I said. "That I would have tripped over it and fell?"
I chuckled. I knew the answer. Everybody else agreed.
---
r/dexdrafts | Golden french toast, dripping with maple syrup. The real kind. His wife placed a plate of crispy bacon next to it. Crispy bacon aroma filled the air. The pan she used to fry the crispy bacon was still sizzling deliciously with bacon fat.
'Dig in!' she announced to their grinning daughter.
'I'm going to miss this,' Milton said as he waded through his family.
'Either they don't know you're dead, or they didn't care for you much'. The man looked like a bad tv trope. Tight leather jacket, casually leaning against a wall with a toothpick between his teeth.
'Here's the deal. I might've got caught up in some dodgy dealings. All you gotta do is take the wrap for me. And i'll send you back in time to finish off this breakfast. That crispy bacon is looking pretty good.'
'Who are you. And what the fuck?'
'Mate, i'm your official Afterlife Officer.' the man said, flashing some sort of id with the words "Steve—Hillsborough Neighbourhood Afterlife Officer. 'I decide whether or not you get to return.'
'I'm not dead?'
'Well you are, but... that's not important, there's not much time.'
Milton reluctantly turned away from his family and followed the man through the wall. The street looked normal but there seemed to be more people than usual casually walking around. Some, Steve just walked through; others, Steve curteously sidestepped and greeted. Milton just plowed through everyone, earning him some dirty looks.
They stopped one block away from a line of desks stationed in the middle of the road. Cars passing through them. Steve backed up behind some shrubbery. Milton followed suit.
'Walk over to those gents and say 'I am responsible for haunting the little girl on 24 Crestwood Avenue'. They will arrest you and take you Jail. Understand?'
'No.'
'No you won't do it, or no you don't understand'.
'Yes'
'Good, but try and act like you belong here or they won't buy it. Stop walking through dead people for one.'
'How can I tell? Wait no! Look. I just died in the shower. I have no idea what this is.'
'You really don't need to. Just trust me, and you'll get your life back. Now go! There's no time!'
Milton didn't know what to think. He had literally never been in this situation before. But his wife only made french toast with crispy bacon once a month and he wanted to eat it. The men at the desks watched him approach, instilling a pang of anxiety through him. What if I fuck this up and don't get sent back? He fought back the urge to wait for the traffic to die down and stepped into the oncoming onslaught of cars. Cars ripped through him. Each time causing him to brace and confront his own mortality. As he reached the line of desks, he realised he hadn't taken a breath since he stepped onto the road. Was he even supposed to breathe?
A bored looking overweight man behind a desk sat up straight and motioned for Milton to take the seat opposite him.
'Hello there. I would like to confess to the haunting of that little girl over on Crestwood Lane.'
The man rifled through the stack of papers infront of him. 'You mean Crestwood Avenue?' he said looking at milton through the space above his glasses.
'Yes.'
'Did Steve tell you to say this?'
'No.'
'Describe her'
'Young, brown hair, normal looking.'
'Normal looking?'
'Uhh yeah'
'Skin colour?'
'White?'
'Black'
'Oh.'
The gravity of the situation began to dawn on him. His wife had surely noticed his body by now. He imagined his daughter looking scared and confused. The french toast becoming soggy.
'Son. Steve is a wanted criminal. He has been terrorising this neighbourhood for weeks and tricking people into confessing for him. I have been assigned to catch him with whatever means necessary. Indict him for the haunt now and I have the authority to grant you return to your life.'
\*\*\*
A white Prius was about to pass through Milton. He took a breathe and immediately remembered he hadn't been breathing at all. The car collided into him and smacked him onto the ground. Head throbbing, Milton groaned. Peeling his eyes open he found himself in his shower. Lying on the floor, water gushing over him. He felt a jolt of adrenaline. He stood up slapping all the walls making sure he couldn't walk through them. He threw his clothes on and ran down stairs.
'What's the rush? Late for work?' His wife said, pouring maple syrup over their daughters french toast. The real kind.
'Just hungry,' Milton somehow managed to say through a grinning mouth stuffed with french toast and crispy bacon. | 2020-12-15T07:42:35 | 2020-12-15T07:37:03 | 46 | 20 |
[WP] After hearing complaints countless times the hero just turns himself in and goes to prison. Now that the villains are destroying the city and running wild everyone is trying the convince the hero to come out and save the day. But the hero is not having any of this shit | The mayor came to visit me four times during my incarceration. I remember each one perfectly and marked them on the humble calendar the warden allowed me in my cell.
The first time was a week after I was officially locked up as they strutted in with a grin on their lips and an aura of smugness so thick that you could almost smell it. The mayor was flanked by her crony and someone with a camera so I figured this was their victory lap. A speech about how the city was now a better place with one of its worst behind bars. Justice, law, the will of the people, so on and so forth. I wasn't even able to get a word in edgewise while they went on, though I hadn't really tried to speak for myself. Instead, I was reading the first book of the Witcher series which I had been meaning to get to for a while. The mayor eventually ran out of steam and the camera shut off. Once they were in the clear, the mayor made some vague threats about how "freaks" like me deserved to be locked up like the "animals we are." Content with their petty victory, they left.
The second time the mayor visited me was a couple months into my prison sentence. I noted the presence of new wrinkles on their face as they glared at me, some white hairs that weren't there before now making themselves at home on their head. I will admit to some satisfaction as I watched the mayor choke on their words as they read off the sheet in their hands, "politely" requesting my knowledge on local villains: tactics, gimmicks, and weaknesses. When I shrugged and returned to my copy of 'Blood of Elves' they turned an impressive shade of red before storming off, calling to their assistant to get the SWAT together to handle the problem.
It was a full year before the third visit and the mayor looked like they aged 5 years, and that's putting it kindly. They dragged a chair over to the bars of my cell and lit a cigarette before talking to me. The death toll was high, easily breaking into the thousands and the police couldn't do anything anymore. Any support the city was getting from the world outside had either dried up or was snatched up by a villain or gang. People kept looking for some kind of savior and the mayor couldn't keep up. The mayor looked at me with bloodshot eyes and demanded to know why I wasn't doing anything, why I let this happen to good people. I reminded the mayor that I still had at least twenty-four years to serve with no exceptions to be made. I suggested they could try and speak with the mercenary team that had been hired to take me out, or maybe with the journalists who had been paid to slander me at every opportunity. Maybe the mayor could talk to the gang leaders who had been bribing them to let members off with lighter sentences. Perhaps they could speak with the team of lawyers that they hired to trump me up on every official charge possible, as well as some fake ones. I just watched as the mayor went red, then pale as I looked at them before I turned back to my copy of 'Dune.' The scraping of the chair was the only other sound as the mayor left.
Today was the fourth visit and I watched the mayor, dressed in a stained white button up and what looked like third hand slacks, slump against the bars of my cell to look at me for a second before falling to their knees. As they stared at the concrete floor I made note of their incredibly thin hair and how it almost lacked all color.
"So, how're things?" I asked as I turned the page of my current read.
The mayor was quiet and I gave them time to respond, "... My assistant just traded my kids away for ammo before running away."
"Never did like that guy. Always was really quick to change their opinions." The soft sound of pages flapping echoed loudly in the nearly empty jail.
"Please... Anything, everything... Whatever you want." The mayor's body shook as they started quietly sobbing, "You want me to apologize? I'm sorry. I'll throw myself off the fucking roof if I have to but please just..." Their sentence broke down into weak sobs as they shivered on the floor.
I put a bookmark into place before walking over to the bars and squatting down in front on the mayor. Once they looked up at me I spoke, word for word, what they said as I was walked into my cell, "Remember this, good citizens, that we are all subject to the consequences of our choices and now we have locked up one of the worst offenders our fair city has ever had the displeasure of enduring. Truly this is the start of a new age for us and it will be one of prosperity and safety!" My gaze was cold and empty as I looked down at the mayor before I shrugged, "Don't worry you've only got to wait..." I made a show of checking the calendar and doing the math, "Twenty years and I'll have served my sentence. Once that's over and done with I'll be right out to help out where I can." A thoughtful look crossed my face, "Maybe I'll sign up with the police or volunteer at a soup kitchen. A lawful and respectable career, what do you think?" My words were spoken sweetly but lined with enough venom to make a cobra shudder.
That was the straw that broke the camel's back and I watched as the mayor pulled a pistol from the belt of their pants and point it at their head. Not that they could do anything, I'd already unloaded the clip and popped out the round that was loaded in the barrel with a brief use of my powers before they even got their hand on the grip. I heard the quiet clicks as they started to openly weep, "Nope, nothing that easy mayor. You get to watch this all go down, an age without vigilante heroes just like you wanted." I stood up and went back to my book as I marked off another day on my calendar. Only seven thousand, two hundred ninety-nine days to go. | " We need you more than ever. Archemist" Said Mayor Johnson as he stood just on the other side of my cell in solitary. He was flanked by his aide some pencel pusher named Needlemyer along with Chief Windgate and D.A. Evens. All of them looked tired and haggard with the chief nursing what looked like a black eye and broken nose.
I stared at them and tried to feel really anything. When these four started their smear campaign I felt anger and but mostly betrayal. When they spent God only knows how much money on surveillance and tails to figure out my real identity, I was spitting mad and was stuttering in a rage so bad that when they came to arrest me as I was playing with my three-year-old nephew at the park. They Thought I was casting at them and tased, maced, and flash banged me to kingdom come.
Then the embarrassment and spectacle of my so-called trial and with them dragging my family and friends through all this bullshit. I never plead guilty but I didn't fight either. Even though mom and dad are former police and I knew the law better than most but I was no lawyer and despite all my arcane knowledge I cant twist those words to do what I want.
"Public enemy and embarrassment," I said in reply, "Enemy not ally of the people. Egotist of the highest order and more than likely colludes with his so-called enemies for personal gain". At my words which were echos of their own, Mayor Johnson along with the chief and D.A. shrunk back looks of guilt heavy on their faces. Needlemyer just turned to look away not in guilt so much as boredom? disgust?
"We were wrong so very wrong," Implored D.A. Evens, "Please not only is Pharos running wild but so is the Ordo Primus. And worse they've teamed up."
"And Morpheles has crawled back from where ever you banished him and he brought back from the dead the Black Hearts gang. All of the Black Hearts gang" Chief Windgate added on.
That... gave me pause and as I mulled it over I turned and squinted at my reflection in my mirror. I barely recognized myself and not just because they only give me my glasses back when it suits them. The year and a half of being here eating, sleeping, and not much else really showed with the extra what? 80 or 90 pounds I've gained and when did my hair get so long and God what the hell is with my beard? All patchy and stringy in parts and curly in others? Let alone the strange colors it grew in, side effect of magic I guess.
I was still deep in thought when pencil dick Needlemyer finally spoke up. "This is a waste of time Mr. Mayor. If anything this just proves that I was right not only then but now. In fact-" I didn't let him finish. I decked him right in his mouth. I could feel not only my white-hot anger directed at him but the pain from where his teeth cut my knuckles but also my power something I hadn't touched since the day in the park, a lifetime ago.
We were all surprised that I had teleported right out of my cell, me most of all but not wanting to waste an entrance, "That is just a small bit of payback for what you did to my loved ones, Needledick."
Needlemayer started to say something before the Mayor, Chief, and D.A. told him to shut up and be quiet. The mayor actually got down on his hands and knees and asked, "Please, Archemist, Please Carter Lorens. Everything has gone to hell in a handbasket and I know we can never make right what we did to you and yours but we are willing to do anything so that you can help us fix our mistake."
After the little speech Evens and Windgate also got down on their hands and knees and Needlemyer was told to stay down and to keep biting his tongue or else the chief would adjust the number of teeth in his head.
I stared at the 3 kneeling men and the one threatened to stay on his ass and was torn. Part of me wanted to tell them all to piss up a rope and go back to my cell, another wanted to use this leverage to bleed and ruin them as much as I could with my return but even with the cynicism that has poisoned me as of late I knew who in my heart of hearts I was and the dangers running amok right now I couldn't let that stand but I wasn't letting them off the hook either.
"The exact specifics of the reparations owed to me and mine can be hammered out later,-" I began as the man all looked at me glimmers of hope in their eyes with the exceptions of Needlmyer who kept a cold sneer. I truly embraced my power at this point letting it clothe me once more, "But one thing needs to be done now if you wish to have my help."
The men were falling over themselves agreeing to whatever I wanted even Needlemyer after he heard the wails of the dead that Morpheles had called forth and how they were growing closer. I smiled as I lifted my right-hand palm side up with a gash forming in it and said, "Your four must make a blood oath with me and become my apprentices. Only then after you stare into the same dead void I did to gain my power will I help you."
\----
The men looked at each other for a moment before Mayor Johnson got up and took the hand followed briskly with the other three and after all, had agreed and shook the bloody hand they all seemed to wink out of existence. The guards in solitary quickly called an emergency at the disappearance of the five men only to be told to cancel it a moment later when they all returned, and while Physically nothing had changed about any of the men save the fact that the injuries on Chief Windgate and Needlemyer had healed and The Archemist had gotten a hair cut and shave. The way they carried themselves had along with how they worked with one another.
Needless to say not only did Mr. Lorens return home a hero but the various Rogues had to face not only the Achmeist but his apprentices who soon learned of all facets of the hero's life and world both the grand and the terrible. | 2021-03-18T22:36:33 | 2021-03-18T22:17:24 | 27 | 12 |
[WP] When a woman is married, she fully becomes part of the family she marries into. Last name, customs, DNA. Everything. So you have been exclusively courting dragons.
half inspired by [this post](https://old.reddit.com/r/facepalm/comments/nbiu2t/yeah_sure/), half inspired by Marge Simpson's misunderstanding. | “When I grow up, I want to be a dragon!” I told my parents.
My father, looked toward my mother and raised a brow. She sighed, nodded, and spoke, “Little blossom, did you know that I was not always an elf?”
Being curious about this, I reply, “You’ve always said that, but never what it means.”
“Indeed,” my mother gained a hint of a smile, “do you know why?” I shake my head, so she continues, “When you can guess why I have not told you, you will be ready for me to tell you.”
I’m not happy with the answer, but it gives me something to think about in the coming years. I guessed multiple times, “Is it because you didn’t like what you were before?” “Is it because it requires dark magic?” “Is it because it made you change?” “Is it because you forgot how to do it?”
But eventually, I guessed correctly.
“Is it because you can never change back?”
I was now entering young adulthood as an elf, and was becoming more curious about the world. My parents shared a look, just as they had thirty years prior. It seemed I had said something correct.
My mother spoke first, “You are ready. All your questions, I’ll answer them as best as I can.”
My mind was swimming, so many questions to ask, but one reached the surface first. “How did you become an elf?”
She smiled a joyous smile at sharing her long held secret, “I married your father.” I stayed quiet as she explained marriage, and the blessings it entailed. The most noteworthy being how the wife changes to join in the family of the husband.
I thought for a couple minutes, enjoying my tea, before asking, “How do I court a dragon.”
This time, my father answered, “Courting any man is a simple task. Be someone who’s presence they enjoy, and make it clear you are interested in them.”
“But what about gifts? Should I learn how to sing? Should I bring gems and jewels? Should I focus on giving compliments? Should I act aloof? What do I do to be desirable?”
My father chuckled, “That, little blossom, would depend on the dragon.”
__________________________________________
“Who would enter my domain?” a voice rumbled from the cave, speaking in the common tongue. Deeper than I had heard previously, but also holding more theatrics.
I smiled, the dwarves spoke honestly about the cave’s contents and location. Perhaps they expected me to be an adventure, a slayer of great wyrms. I replied in the dragon’s tongue, “A person who comes in three parts.”
A moment’s pause before the voice replied, confusion apparent and now in dragon speak, “What parts are these.”
Confidence spread into my voice, this was a line I’d practiced, “In order, excitement, courage, and foolishness.”
Wisps of smoke left the cave. “Excitement to fight, courage to battle, foolishness to think you can win?”
“No in all cases.” I sat in front of the cave, careful not to enter, but not shying away. “Excitement to meet you, courage to speak with you, and the foolishness to make a request.”
A grumble left the cave, “What request would that be?”
A blush quickly rose to my face. This was the first time I was not dismissed outright. I had to clear my tightening throat before asking, “May I join you for some tea?”
Loud laughter roared from the cavern, shaking dust and pebbles from the ceiling, “The gall of that foolish request. I suppose it might make for an interesting day. You may enter.” With the last word, arcane runes flared up and brought light to the cave, reflecting off the silver dragon that called the place home.
I stood up, gave a deep bow and smiled at finally being given a chance, “Thank you kindly, sir dragon.”
“Hmmm,” he tilted his head in thought, “if we are to share time and tea, at least we could share names as well.”
“Of course,” I gave a curtsy, “My name is Arshanta Ilphualusfaen, but please call me Arshanta.”
In an unpracticed and stiff gesture, the dragon nodded his head slightly, “And I am Xarzithmiirik. So tell me, Arshanta, why would seek out a dragon for tea?”
“Do pardon me, Xarzithmiirik, but a lady must keep *some* secrets. May I use some magic to bring some things here? You are free to keep what I bring.”
He eyed her warily, “You may, though I hardly think that gifts would be required when you’re welcomed in.”
“It is not a matter of bribing you, Xarzithmiirik, it is that I only have enough magic to summon the larger items once a week,” with that, I finished the hand gestures and summoned two tea sets on the ground. One was a simple ceramic one to remind me of home, the other was a 8 foot tall, 6 foot diameter metal pot with etchings of the skyscape around my village tree. I hoped he would like it.
He studied the large kettle, and the similarly massive metal mug. Eventually he smiled, “And here I was worried the tea would have to be excessively strong to taste it. Very well, Arshanta, you have my interest. What did you wish to talk about?”
“What is it like to fly with your own wings?”
He paused to consider something, then leaned in close, his head within arm’s reach. He murmured surprisingly softly, “Promise me you won’t tell anyone, and I’ll give you a ride.”
I leaned forward, planted a kiss on his snout, and replied, “I would be honored, and would never speak of it.” | For a moment, the sound of the great wings beating made Lena think the mountain was splitting open. The earth trembled at the very least. Or... maybe she did.
The setting sun vanished behind the silhouette of the swooping beast; on the mountain ridge, only flecks of gold and orange — a fire crackling beneath a roasting lamb — could be seen. Lena steeled herself and pushed a stick into the burning coals, sizzling them as the dragon landed.
She shouldn’t be here. Her life likely to end as quickly as the lamb’s had, to be roasted as the lamb was being, only much much quicker. Lena was a princess of a once great kingdom. She should be hosting a ball or favouring a knight at a joust. Anything but this.
Its paws cratered into the ground as it landed, smoke gasping up from beneath them.
Lena closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Tried to smell the meat cooking but could only imagine her own blackened flesh frying.
”One lamb,” said a voice, as ancient and deep as the earth. She could feel it roll through her, down her spine and legs, into her heart.
“For an invite to a feast, I feel a little let down.”
”It was all I could afford,” said Lena, opening her eyes and forcing herself to look at the great beast. She swallowed a gasp. Its scales swam orange in the evening sun, a glistening and breathing ocean. Its eyes, black endless caves, were locked on her — and the weight of them felt infinite.
The dragon inhaled; Lena‘s clothes tugged towards the flames and she took a quick step back.
”Royalty,“ said the dragon. “You reek of it. Your posture to your pores. A daughter of the Armans. You think me born yesterday to say it was all you could afford.”
“I...”
The dragon stepped forward. Its left wing shot out, swatting Lena to the ground and encircling the roasting lamb.
Lena watched from the dirt as a spout of blue flame erupted, contained by the wing as if it were a stone wall. Then, a bone-cracking crunch.
When the wing drew back, the lamb was gone. The dragon turned and dipped into a crouch, ready to leap into the air.
”Wait!” she yelled, finding her voice again. “Please.”
A long pause. “Why would I wait any longer? The company of liars does not please me.”
”You’re right, I am a princess. But my kingdom and my family are nothing more than dust. I am the last of my line.“
The dragon’s head glanced over its winged shoulder. “And that is my concern?”
”You knew of my people. You knew we were protected by Aiol.“
Now the dragon turned fully. Its head snapped forward like a lunging snake. “What of Aiol?”
That had his attention. Their guardian dragon had once roamed free, before swearing its allegiance. Had known all the ancient beasts and they had known her.
“She is dead.“
A puff of smoke erupted from its nostrils. “You lie.”
”I wish I did. But she fell trying to protect the humans she loved.”
There was a pause. “Then it is her fault for ever loving a human! Her choice to risk her life for mortals. Not a mistake I would ever make.”
”They will come for you in time. For all kingdoms and all dragons. The Necromancer has no love for any living creature.”
”And you expect me to help you?”
”No, not exactly. You needn’t risk yourself. There is a legend that if a princess should marry a dragon, her skin will peel open and scales and wings will erupt. That she herself will become a dragon. Then I could risk myself to fight the darkness!”
Another pause. Then laughter as loud and dark as an avalanche exploded. “A fairy tale for foolish princesses and no more than that! You do not seem totally stupid — surely you did not believe it?”
What could she say? The truth? The truth was all she had so she supposed so. Her shoulders sank. “No. I didn’t. But I had hope.” She sat down on a mound of dirt and stared at the ground and thought of the family she had lost. The family she couldn’t avenge. The many more that would soon die.
The dragon didn’t move for quite some time, it just watched the girl instead. And even when it did move, it didn’t leave her. Instead it settled like a cat, curling its pronged tail around itself, tucking it beneath its chin. And then it too stared lonely into the dirt.
“Tell me,” it said, eventually. “Did she fight well?”
Lena’s eyes flicked up. “Her fire was an ocean of molten blue that drowned half the Necromancer’s army. For a while I even thought...”
”I understand.”
They settled quietly again, neither stirring — not sleeping or talking — until the rain came, soaking Lena until she shivered.
The dragon stepped closer to Lena, placing a wing about her like a tent. It leaned forward and its warm breath dried her clothes; she cuddled back against the leathery wing, resting her head.
”I will return you to your kingdom, tomorrow,” said the dragon. “After you have rested.”
”There is no kingdom. Just bones and blackness and a taste of death in the air that will never blow away.”
”Never the less, I will return you and I will see the scars Aiol left on the earth. And then...”
Lena looked up. “And then?”
”I cannot make you a dragon. No spell can do that. But perhaps together we can be one.”
”Together?”
The dragon sighed. “I have been a cowardly worm buried in a hole for far too long — all the while knowing the world outside was growing rotten. Together, we will at least try to change that.“
Lena didn’t notice she was crying until a tear dripped off her chin.
”Hush,” soothed the dragon. “You will need sleep first. We both will.” | 2021-05-13T13:47:55 | 2021-05-13T13:19:05 | 1,821 | 372 |
[WP]For a thousand years a truce between our world and the demon world has held. Thousands die as the demons break the truce and attack, but they forgot the truce was to protect them from one of us… a special one… | We had been seeing first signs for months now. Birds behaving strangely just before full moon. Increased reports of cultist activity and people gone missing. Dreadful discoveries of mutilated sacrificial bodies. We knew they were coming.
But we prepared over the years as well, secretely keeping our own cult alive - in these modern times using modern technology. Little was the world aware what the true meaning of it all was and they would find out in less than 2 days when the moon would be full again and the demonic legions would march through their portal.
Him… he had this smooth, innocent looks. Something in the ways he moved sometimes would have given it away, but humans just laughed at it, giving it no further importance. Little did they know.
The portal opened at midnight under the pale yet flooding light of the full moon. The first siege breakers flooded in with their demonic riders staring in horror at him - him, standing alone like a one man army in front of the fiery portal. Then his body started this awkward movement every human had been belittling on what they call social media. And then, his lips started moving…
NEVER GONNA GIVE YOU UP, NEVER GONNA LET YOU DOWN… | Love,war,death and mother fucking demons. You see demons and us humans have always had problems but when he arrived well the demons got a bit more eager for peace.
But they decided after 10 thousand years that peace was a bad option, that peace was something moronic created by humans and ther demon ancestors, so they broke the peace and sacrificed 30 thousand demons to break the seal to our dimension and come on in.
And of course he was ther he's always ther, nobody knows his name for he was so old I bet he forgot it too.
He was dressed in a American flag t-shirt,blue jeans,cold beer in hand, and a trucker hat with the word MERICA on it, and to top it all off a fucking mullet. He rode in on a four wheeler to the demons opening. The demons leader stepped out asking him "is this the humans hero is this thing what our ancestors were afraid of" the man just took a long sip of his beer looked at the demon leader and said "yuuuuup"
He pulled out 1 machine gun with golden crosses and a silver blessed bullets and in the other hand a big water gun filled with holy water. The fight was intense no military wanted to go near it debating on nuking the area, the man fought with pride throughout the entire fight all you could hear is "GET SOME YOU UNHOLY BASTARDS GET SOME". When it was all over the only remaining demon closed the seal, the man left never to be seen again, and that was the tale of american man of america. Ford built tuff | 2021-06-12T23:06:11 | 2021-06-12T15:25:08 | 30 | 15 |
[WP] A demon just devoured your soul. You are both very confused as to why you are still alive. | The demon's metallic claws flashed in the candlelight. In hindsight, the summoning had been a mistake. Julia regretted not actually reading the warnings in the book, but in her defense, there were eight and a half pages of warnings.
"You have made a grave mistake summoning one of the soulless!" the demon spat while ripping the warding spell to shreds. "A mistake that I shall demon-strate to you."
Julia grabbed a candlestick to defend herself. "Did you just make a pun?"
"Foolish human," the demon snarled at her. "I made two puns. You missed the one about the 'grave' mistake. The great demon Golbur shall show you true claws for concern," he said, swiping the candlestick out of her hands with a swipe of his arm.
The demon seemed to grow in size, causing Julia to stumble back against the wall. "Stop, I just want to talk."
"I'm not in the mood to talk," he said, talkatively. "I'm in the mood to eat a fillet of soul!" With that last pun, Golbur struck an ephemeral hand into Julia's chest, drawing it back out in a fist. He stopped short. "Wait, that's not right. Where's your soul?"
Julia collapsed to the ground. "That's what I've been trying to tell you. Are you done with the puns?"
"I only really know those four good ones. Usually you humans are dead by now."
"Your definition of good needs some work. But- as I was trying to say- I lost my soul, that's why I was trying to summon one of the soulless. I figured you would be some sort of expert on this sort of situation. You must see it all the time, right?"
Golbur settled down onto his haunches. "Oh, yeah. All the time. I see soulless humans all the time. Usually after I've eaten their soul and they are dead, of course."
As the demon settled down, Julia lost what fear remained. She sat down cross-legged facing him. "And humans always die when their soul gets taken?"
"The way I do it, yeah. Maybe you've got a little bit of soul left hanging about. Let me check."
Golbur suddenly plunged both hands into Julia's body, rooting around in all her crevices. It was a disturbing experience. She tried to push him away, but he was insubstantial and her hands went through him. "Stop that."
"Hmmm- Nothing. I was hoping for a snack, at least."
"And if you had found and taken a last bit of soul, that would have killed me? I thought you were trying to help me."
"No, I'm trying to get lunch. Did the book not explain the whole demon thing? There should have been warnings."
Julia glanced at the still-open book next to her and quickly closed it. "No, no warnings. Could you at least give me some idea of how to get a soul?"
"I only know of one source for them, obviously. Humans. You're lucky in that department. You're probably surrounded by tasty human souls all the time. I'd never go hungry with that sort of access. Just go and grab one. Take a soul-claw and rip it right out."
"I don't have soul-claws." Julia knew what she had to do. She should have thought of it sooner, but had been holding herself back. Having made the decision, she realized she didn't have any guilt or reservations about it. Perhaps there was one advantage to not having a soul. "If I got a couple humans for you, would you share one of the souls with me?"
Golbur's eyes brightened and he jumped off the floor onto his hooves. "A brilliant soul-ution. We'll work together. I hate working soul-itary."
"No puns," Julia said, picking up the book. "Come on, there's a school across the street." | "Mm, why, that was far from the most underwhelming burden of sin that I've been made privy to"
I could feel its evil presence, grasping and caressing the very essence of my existence
It would have disgusted me, if I still had a heart to care
The demon made a show of smacking his lips, seemingly delighted with the qualities it saw in my soul.
But that didn't matter
I didn't move
I didn't mind
I didn't care
"Just get this over with"
I heard my own voice ring out, shrill and shaky
With all the strikingness of a dying hamster
The demon paid no heed to my words
It seemed to know all too well that I am but a husk
Lifeless, powerless and harmless
"It is rare that I see a human that look the part of my end product even before I partook in the process of their draining"
"I look like shit, I know, big whoop"
"Just . Get . This . Over . With"
I forced out the words with what little air I had left in my lungs
There wasn't any further need to replenish them
Mother's words surfaced in my mind again
I tore her body apart in my mental hellscape as I did in real life
That is to say
Brutishly brutal and blasphemously bloody
No more
I would not be a waste of fresh air for much longer
So shut the fuck up and go back to resting in pieces
Ciao.
The demon's eyes twinkled with a malevolent sparkle
He chuckled
"Humans always remark as to their food maturing in the weeks or days that pass, post purchase and pre consumption, why, demons have the blessing to see our takings mature in front of our very eyes, it is truly one of the great gratifications of demonhood.
With those words, he began to reveal his true form
A perfrct storm of Machiavellian malice, twisted tenaciously into tendrils of torturous terror
To be inflicted upon its prey
"Pray, it is but futile, but there is nothing that shall save you from this fate, so all actions, however moronically useless, will produce the same outcome"
I simply stared back blankly
As his tendrils tore into me
Not physically, but metaphysically
It tore into me
My self
My will
My existence
It tried hollowing me out
Slurping on my soul
It felt kind of...pleasant
That's....not meant to happen
Is it?...
There was the slightest fleeting hint of confusion in the demon's eyes
As a pure black orb was draw out of my body
By writhing spectral tentacles
I stared at it
It felt familiar
My old identity
It had a name
A personality
A family
A ....
I cannot remember
Blank
I know words
But nothing else
I looked down
I know these are hands
My hands
But where did the cuts and bruises come from
I move my hands around
How did this spider shaped mark get here
I know it's not normal
What is normal
What
"What"
The demon looked on in a flabbergasted manner
I knew he was a demon
I knew this wasn't his normal behaviour
I stepped back a little
My body felt....light
Like a literal stone was removed from my shoulders
I looked up
Towards that blackened orb
It was calling on me
Something about regret
Something about mistakes
Something about fear
Something about being eaten
...
I ignored it
It made me feel bad things
Like I was trapped underneath someone else's crazed ravings
Yet I knew it to be myself
Me
I
Past tense I
Ware
I stepped away slowly
I felt cold
I felt light
I felt weak
I felt....alive
I felt a sense of irony within those words
I felt like that was probably true
I felt like leaving
I felt like that demon.exe has stopped responding
...
I backed away into the night
I don't fear the darkness
I looked into he distance
Towards the sight of a site
Familiar and familiar
It was then
I knew anew
Why
Why would I fear the night
When twas the light from whence monsters came | 2021-10-06T10:15:34 | 2021-10-06T08:41:55 | 1,250 | 68 |
[WP] You have spent the last few years learning and mastering morse code. You leave a small cafe at night and walk your way home. As you walk, it starts to rain. While the heavy rain starts to hit the ground, it sounds familiar to you. You realise the rain is telling you to run. | Drip drop drip.
I turned my collar up against the rain. Dammit, I should have taken an umbrella. If only I could remember where I’d left it. The street was dimly lit, and unfamiliar. My clothes were thin and clung to my skin.
Drip drip drop.
For some reason I began to notice rhythm of the rain. It didn’t feel…right. It wasn’t random or meaningless, like rain is meant to sound. It had a pattern. The same pattern repeating again and again.
Drop drip.
A code. My blood ran cold. I had only started to learn Morse code while we had been shut inside for the past year, but the pattern was unmistakable. It was telling me something.
Drip drop drip. R.
Drip drip drop. U.
Drop drip. N.
I glanced around and began to jog, feeling slightly self-conscious. But as soon as I did, two figures moved from out of the shadows. They had been following me. I broke into a run and they sprinted after me. I darted down an alley to try and lose them, but my shoes were waterlogged and flimsy. I slipped, and when I got to me feet the two figures were upon me.
“No, get off me.” I shouted.
“Calm down, Mrs Solomon, we don’t want to hurt you.” I struggled but one of them had restrained my arm behind me.
“How do you know my name?” I demanded.
“You’re safe with us.” They grabbed my other arm, and I swung it behind me, connecting with one of their faces. Suddenly my legs were swept out from under me and I landed hard on the wet tarmac. One of them sat on my back.
“No!” I tried to scream but the air had gone out my lungs. I felt a sharp prick in my neck. “Who are you? Why are you doing this?” Even as I spoke I felt my voice fading and being drowned by the rain.
\* \* \*
I awoke in a plain room on a plastic mattress. A lady in a white coat was standing by me, holding a chart.
“Where am I?” I drawled groggily.
“You’re back in the hospital, Mrs Solomon. We’ve stabilised your levels. You really must keep taking your medication, you know. You can get a bad reaction if you stop.” Medication? I glanced down at the canula in my arm. “You’ll feel better in a few hours. I’ll see you then.” She left, locking the door behind her from the outside. I looked out of the window. The rain had cleared and the wet buildings reflected the sun in sharp beams. It was quiet outside, and in the room I could hear only the sounds of the monitoring equipment.
Beep beeep beep.
Beep beeep beep.
Beeep beep. | You have spent the last few years learning and mastering morse code. You leave a small cafe at night and walk your way home. As you walk, it starts to rain. While the heavy rain starts to hit the ground, it sounds familiar to you. You realise the rain is telling you to run.
You feel a sense of dread wash over you, a chill runs down your spine almost paralyzing you with fear. “What’s happening?” You mutter under your breath and then you see it. It’s him, the reaper of souls and his flaming Hell hound. The rain intensifies, you notice the familiar rhythm of “Run! Run! Run!” Tapped out as the rain hits the pavement. You start running, with every step the dark presence grows stronger. “Faster.” You hear the rain tap out, “Run faster.”
You glance back at the, you see the reaper appear in every shadowy place. His Hellhound tries to step out from under the awning and you hear the sizzle of the water hitting his flaming skin. It’s to late. He hellhound has realized that the rain won’t hurt him. The beast leaps out with all its might and barely misses you with his claws, but you feel the singed hair on the back of your neck from his flailing breath. You run and keep running. You hear the rain tap out, “head to the bridge.” You blindly comply. You turn left and head to the river. And not far away you see it. And old bridge that’s about to crumble. But between it and you is the beast… his eyes are red, fire jumping from its snout as it snarls. Behind you the reaper stands waiting, unmoving. You hear a faint low haunting chuckle come from under his cloak. The rain taps out, “run to the bridge.” You give it all the strength you have left. Your muscles scream as you sprint straight for the hell beast, and it glances you with its claw as you dodge it. A few more steps and your on the bridge.
Lightning flashes and the. Thunderous roar of the thunder causes you to stop midway through the bridge. You turn around. The hound is pacing back and forth at the foot of the bridge. It takes a step onto the iron rung and jumps back in pain, the fire leaping from his snout more intensely. You breath a sigh of relief, but it’s to late. You turn and see him. You can just make out his bony smile and the fire burning in his eyes. You hear the screams of 1,000 souls as he opens his mouth and laughs the same haunting laugh. As you collapse to the ground, he brings his scythe down… and the world go black.
The rain pitifully taps out, “I’m sorry. I tried to save you, but I was to late.” Lightning strikes the old bridge and it’s breaks apart. The lifeless corpse falls down into the black waters of the rushing river below. Will anyone notice, will the person be missed? In the dark corner of the cafe, a faint soul languishing chuckle fades off into the darkness. He has done his job, and his hound got to have a little fun too. | 2021-10-20T08:13:31 | 2021-10-20T07:34:12 | 82 | 19 |
[WP] You inhabit the body of a young prince that died from a fatal illness when he was barely at his teens. You learned to love his parents and you changed the world around you for the better. One day at your 17th birthday, a prophet from another court saw through you and revealed the truth. | "That's not Prince Vanyas, that's a spirit from another world, possessing his body!"
I froze. I knew that *something* would be happening at the peace conference, the Kingdom of Ixhul was definitely doing something shady, but this was too close to the truth to be a coincidence. I *was* a spirit from another world, Earth, thrust into the body of Prince Vanyas at the moment of his death. As far as everyone else knew, the Prince had narrowly survived, but the illness had added his brain - a convenient excuse for his sudden change to the personality of a teenager from Ohio. How had the prophet *known?*
"Explain this mad accusation, Azakia!" The king thundered.
"It is one of my gifts as a mage. I know the signs and secrets that spirits use, and can I recognize when someone has been claimed by a spirit." He replied calmly.
My mind raced. If he managed to convince the assembled nobles that I was some sort of body snatching spirit, it would... well, I probably wouldn't *die*, but it certainly wouldn't be good. I tried to stall for time. "Well, that's certainly very convenient that you evidence is a magic gift that nobody else has. All we have is your word."
"The signs are everywhere, if you know where to look - a sudden change in personality, strange choices of words and phrases, and most damningly, spells that nobody from this world could have invented."
God damn it, had he found my spellbook? That could be pretty suspicious. I'd drawn on a childhood full of fantasy and science fiction to come up with new spells. Still, it didn't *prove* anything. Nobody here knew that my "lightsaber" spell was inspired by George Lucas instead of being a clever combination of flame and lightning magic.
I tried to push back. Play the role of the aggrieved noble, like I was supposed to be. "Keep insulting me, and I'm going to make you answer for those words with a wand in hand."
I didn't really like dueling. It struck me as a backwards, barbaric way of settling disputes. But I was *good* at it, and when my lack of noble education got me into trouble a fireball to the face could often get me out of it.
"Of course that's how you reply," he said acidly. "That's how the Asani *always* do alliances - by threatening to kill you if you don't cooperate. I suppose that would explain it, if you were secretly led by a bloodthirsty spirit."
Ah, that was his goal. They were looking for an excuse to back out of the alliance, maybe joining up with our neighbors to the south to backstab us. So they'd taken my biggest secret and thrown it into the conference like a grenade. Even if they didn't prove anything, just muddying the waters and dropping some hints might be enough.
But how did he *know?* I didn't know of any magic that could read my mind and uncover a secret like that, but then again, it was magic - by definition there were things we didn't know about it. Was it just that, or something more?
He turned towards the assembled nobles. "On the eve of our grand alliance, I have found that there is an *impostor* among us! We cannot stand by as he leads us to our doom!"
Wait, had he seriously... No, no that had to be a coincidence. Right? My internet-poisoned brain was seeing connections that didn't exist. But on the other hand, it would explain why he found my spells so suspicious.
Well, I was already losing, maybe I should fire a shot in the dark, see what it hits.
"Ah, I see how it is. Looking for imposters?" I said, taking a step forwards. "Planning to throw me out the airlock so you can take control yourself?"
He immediately went poker-faced. But that was a dead giveaway, because everyone else just looked confused.
"What do you mean?" The king asked. "What's an airlock?"
"He knows what it is." I replied. "The reason he recognized me, the reason he understands references to things that don't exist in this world... Is because he comes from the same world that I do."
I smiled at the prophet on the other side of the ballroom. "If I'm possessed by a spirit, then so is he." | Fiction draws inspiration from reality.
And sometimes, the reality is stranger than fiction.
I used to scoff at poorly written MacGuffins that could act as Deus Ex Machina in the fantasy stories I used to read. ‘*How*’, I used to think, would a character lose sight of their core beliefs? How could the world be shattered by an occurrence that not even the smartest in the story could have anticipated?
That was until it happened to me.
There is one other common thread that I have found holds true for reality and fiction.
The sewers really are an excellent way to escape certain doom and there are chances that the exit from the sewers will not be actively monitored. If anyone could see me now as I stumbled across in the dark, my legs sunk in the filth of the city, no one would associate me with the young prince of the Tarkalin Empire. The pearl of his mother’s eyes and the pride of his father’s. The one who, if he wanted, could have become the next emperor.
The darkness is terrifying. I do not know what lies in front of me and I do not know if I am on the correct path. The flow of the wastewater guides me. I hope that the sounds I hear are only that of the rats eyeing a sudden banquet. Maybe, I think for a fleeting second, death would be a welcome recourse from the harrowing week that I have suffered.
And the anger flares up within me. No. I will not succumb to this fear and sadness. What I have received I will return. That is the duty of a prince.
I can still see his grizzled face. He had come to the court for my father’s name day. A messenger from beyond the mountains who had come bearing gifts for the lord of Tarkalin. His retinue included a princess who was to be married to me, so the messengers had announced last month. She had a pretty smile when I saw her march into the courtroom. She had a regal bearing, the aura of one who was born to rule radiated from her. Her curls were bunched up and she was dressed in the simplest of white robes. A tradition I was told extended back to the founding of their kingdom. I did not notice the look of avarice in his eyes. After all, my eyes seemed to exist only to capture her presence.
The thought of the past made me miss a footing and I fell into the water. The dark dirty water rushed into my mouth. My body convulsed as I threw up everything I had eaten in the last five hours. My white prison clothes had been stained in splotches of color and the smell could defeat a professionally trained army. I reached for the sewer walls and leaned on them. I wanted to close my eyes and let sleep take me. My body screamed in agony from the running. My eyes burned and my head ached from the mental exhaustion. Would I return back home if I died here, I wondered.
What really was home anymore?
Was it this fantastical land where magic existed in places not explored by humans?
Or was it Earth, the third planet in the solar system in the Milkyway Galaxy?
Where I had a decent life before I died.
It was a mystery to me when I first became aware of sensations again. The last thing I remembered was metal crushing me as my car collided with another. That pain was dreadful. The human body is resilient. Countless years of evolution have ensured that it can sustain dreadful impacts and still survive. But when pressure, like that of a fast-moving car engine, is applied to it, the agony is enough to make humans wish for a quick death.
I let out a long sigh. The exhaustion was making me relieve the days when I was still another being. I started to walk forward, or at least what I thought was the way towards my salvation.
When I woke up *after my death*. I stopped in my tracks.
That’s right. I thought to myself. As I started to laugh. I had died once before.
My laughter echoed in the cavern and created countless mirthless voices that laughed together at me. The rats scared that something more sinister than them had arrived in their underworld retreated back into their holes. I stopped laughing. I noticed a strange sense of detachment that occurred when I laugh without any joy in it. Perhaps it is a way of mind trying to understand my precarious situation and find a solution that will help it survive.
I straightened myself and with the support of the sewer canal walls made my way out again. The laugh seemed to have cleared something in my head. The pure, unadulterated rage that had been simmering underneath pushed its way to the surface. I wanted to live. I had to live. The dull throbbing in my head increased with every step I took and it only solidified my resolve. I knew what I had to do if I could find my way out. I had fostered and helped grow an army. It was the request of the young child whose body I now possessed.
\--
continued below | 2022-06-29T12:17:42 | 2022-06-29T10:31:31 | 158 | 46 |
[WP] You are allowed to 'downvote' a government candidate instead of voting normally, reducing their votes by one. Turns out people have little love for politicians, and the majority end with negative votes. In these democracies, anonymity is the key to winning. | "I'm sorry, but we already have a candidate registered under the name Puppies Apple Pie, you'll have to choose a different pseudonym. Please choose something quickly, as we close in two minutes."
The elections office clerk was ancient. She had permed pink hair and was wearing glasses on a chain in a style that Julia could not believe had ever been fashionable. Her dress was a pre-Consolidation monstrosity that was surely only allowed under the government dress code due to some sort of grandfather clause.
Julia had spent weeks gathering the necessary signatures to become a candidate. Signing up only required twenty, but nobody answered their door anymore. She'd gotten the final one by cornering the produce manager at a grocery store. She'd done extensive data analysis to determine the best name to register under. "What about 'Anonymous'?"
"Taken." The clerk was watching the clock.
"Tits McGee?"
"He's our sitting Senator. And don't even think of registering Candidate McCandidateFace. They're all taken. You shouldn't have left this until the last day. You'll end up at the bottom of the ballot, assuming you can think of a name in the next thirty seconds."
"Wait, they're listed in the order they were received?" This was news to Julia. always in the past the big party candidates would give themselves the first slots on the ballots. The new downvoting system must have made them want to hide in the middle. She wrote down a name and handed it to the clerk. "How about this?"
The clerk nodded, looked at the clock, and pulled down the rolling gate to close the registration window.
\---------------------------------------
Julia's election night party was small. Just her, her mom, and the grocery store produce manager, Gary. Her mom had spent most of the night bustling around the kitchen, leaving her alone with him in front of the holoscreen. He kept trying to scoot towards her on the couch.
Anderson Cooper was leading the election coverage. Doing shots, as always. Julia's mom said that pre-Consolidation he'd often done the news without drinking, but everyone had decided they liked it better this way.
Anderson handed a beer bong back to Andy Cohen and continued calling results. "The Consolidated News Network can now predict that Tits McGee will be reelected to the Senate with over a million positive votes. I think it was his voting record on infrastructure that really resonated with people."
"Come on Anderson, get to the one that people really care about."
Anderson put a hand up to his ear to listen to his monitor. "They're just finishing the tally for President. As expected from our exit polls the big democratic and republican candidates both finished with large negative votes. There are still a few districts coming in but it looks to be a dead heat between Puppies Apple Pie and Anonymous. Wait one moment folks... Is that an actual candidate name?"
Anderson turned to consult with an aide who had rushed onto the set.
"It seems like we do have a clear winner, folks." Julia froze as her face flashed up on the screen. The picture she'd submitted with her application.
"The next President of the United States is candidate 'None of the Above'."
\[More writing at r/c_avery_m\] | It was a rainy Monday and Josh Cleverly casually switched on his TV in dual channel mode to look at the results of the recent presidential election.
Fortunately, he had one of the new high-tech smart TVs that only truly started to become available 10 years ago in 2046 and he was able to watch CNN and Fox News at the same time so that he’d get at least some semblance of truth by watching competing “equally idiotic” news networks at the same time.
Unfortunately, he was in rural Washington. The state, not the Columbia District (obviously). So he had little to do on a Monday he couldn’t spend farming.
Still, there was a truly *special* reason for why he watched the news like that. So consistently and so intently.
He was in contention for the presidency.
According to him, he just entered “for shits and giggles”. An average nobody from the middle of nowhere who just so happened to write-up a half-decent summary of what he believes the United States should do during his 4 year tenure to fix the economy, alleviate social tension and ease the Second Cold War against China and Russia that’s been going on for the past 27 years.
In all honesty, he just quoted one of the archived and lost to time speeches by JFK, which JFK gave at some god forsaken birthday party of all places.
All in all, Josh judged his chances of winning the presidency to be as about as high as winning 200 lotteries, while bankrupting a Las Vegas casino through your own gambling skill at the same time.
The tally continued on for quite some time. Unsurprisingly, “the four major political families” had their candidates tallied up first. Buying up lobbyists helped them at least that much.
This year it was an even worse travesty than usual. Frankly, it seemed like the candidates from the Clinton, Bush, Trump and Biden families respectively were doing worse than ever.
‘Damn… with these poll numbers I have an inkling they might have scored just below Hitler himself if he was in contention’ Josh mused in his thoughts, but dismissed the thought, noting to himself that the “moustached Adolf” was probably far worse and even thinking otherwise is a good way to radicalise yourself and become just as bad as those 4 families that ended up further exacerbating the Second Cold War and numerous other homegrown issues.
The listing continued on for an exuberantly long amount of time after and finally after about 8 hours or so Josh’s name and credentials came up.
To his utter shock Josh saw himself with the most number of votes from all the candidates he could remember.
‘No, I must be misremembering something. And besides I’ve entered on a whim and basically wrote what’s effectively a “manifesto” but of common sense. I’m even more of a nobody than that Lenin guy and I sure as hell don’t call any group “the enemy of the people” unlike him either. That’s wrong.’ Josh thought, trying to distract himself from what he was witnessing.
Though… it certainly didn’t end there for Josh. Another 6 hours later the votes have been fully tallied up.
**And Josh Cleverly was announced the 54th President of the United States of America.**
And by the looks of it *he’d be the first in 40 years to even have a semblance of a chance to be elected for a second term out of all the candidates that have come and gone.* | 2022-11-21T08:20:23 | 2022-11-21T08:03:51 | 448 | 47 |
[WP]: Click "random", and study the subreddit you got. Write about your discoveries like a victorian wilderness explorer | Dear Humphrey.
I know you're busy at the admiralty nowadays, but my latest discovery requires you most immediate attentions. What I've found in the wilderness of the *redd-it* regions are paramount to our empires security.
I was looking for the fabled gold that lies in the hills around here, but I stumbled across the dark continents answer too the grand fleet. In the jungles of /r/EVE I found a fleet of incredible power. Thankfully my native guide was able to record a picture of this fleet, [I have it enclosed](http://i.imgur.com/MNrXRRc.jpg). I fear there may be more, and bigger ones too.
This is a bigger threat than the French Humphrey, the navy must be mobilized at once. Our empire itself is at risk.
Urgently, Lord Ewewot of Inglin
| [Random Acts of Pizza] www.reddit.com/r/RAOP
It's a very... strange place indeed. The people there seem to be very generous and also seem to enjoy the meal that is pizza. They carry on conversations about this one food item for what seems like ages. They talk about the toppings, sauces, and even the types of crust they enjoy. The ways it can be cooked is also discussed. I was very much dumbfounded as to why they love this meal so much and why they seem to worship it until I came across their leader; Papa John. He seems to be the guiding force behind this-race if you will. They gift each other cards that hold some type of monetary value and they use this to purchase more of their saviors dishes. However, amongst the charity, and chit-chatter there is one that is shunned. There is another deity that doesn't hold the same title as Papa John. This deity is frowned upon, made fun of, exiled, and only loved by a select few; Little Ceaser. Those who follow him are considered fools, shunned and are sometimes forced to leave this place. I have studied long enough and I've decided to follow the majority; I am a Papa Johnian. | 2014-03-17T16:21:30 | 2014-03-17T13:06:41 | 64 | 32 |
[WP] You have 30 seconds with an ancestor of yours from 200 years ago (1814), before they are transported back to their time. What do you say to them? What effect appears in our world because of it?
Consider for the sake of this prompt that they aren't totally freaked out by being plopped into 2014, that they can understand you, and that they'll continue their life as normal back in their time, only with the knowledge of whatever you told them with your 30 seconds time. | ## Change EVERYTHING
"Sir, you have fifteen seconds," the lady behind the counter said to me, "And remember, you are not allowed to disclose any information that may affect the future of this company. Should you attempt to do so, your ancestor will be terminated and you will be liable for the fullest extent of penalties incurred under the contract you've just signed.."
I nod, trembling while doing so. It was my first time. They say that first timers often don't say a thing, simply look at their ancestor and let them go. They visit several times afterward, always trying to build up the courage until they say something meaningful.
The rich, of course, came to see their ancestors almost quite regularly. So much so that they were able to get richer and richer over time, find their family secrets, stash away trinkets that were valueless in the past but grew to be extremely expensive in the present.
On others, it backfired. Their ancestors would not heed warnings, or acted completely aganst them. The backfire could propagate into crumbling of enormous corporate empires overnight. No one knew it happened until it was already done. And then no one remembered.
People like me, however, scraped by all their lives, hoping to make that big change by investing all their money to see their ancestor and improve everything in swift thirty seconds.
I practiced for hours. "Don't choke," was the thought in my head, running on repeat.
"Five seconds," the lady announced and sealed herself off. I was in a wooden cottage simulation, alone, awaiting my great-great-great, oh who knows how many, grandfather.
The man before me appeared promptly. He stared straight into my, completely unphased by what happened.
"Ahh, great great grandson. How is my little empire?"
I stared in disbelief, "What do you mean?"
He frowned, "Something went wrong. I should not have invested with those damn charlatans, should I have?"
"You've seen me before?"
"Oh yes, quite frequently. Quick, we only have a few seconds. What should I do?"
The timer was ticking away, loudly in my head.
"Things must have gone wrong. Don't do what I said last time. Remember me. Good luck!"
I walked out of the simulation, barely remembering what had happened.
"Hello sir, should I expect you next week?"
"I'll have my secretary arrange my next appointment. Thank you."
My phone vibrated with an email notification. The company merger was approved by the federal regulators, finally. | Flash my ancestor appears.
I start immediately.
"Get a heavy duty safe, hide it in the farm house, put this in it" <I show him what to put in it drawn out on a sheet of paper>.
We use the next 20 seconds so he can commit the instructions to memory.
Flash he is gone.
I burn the paper, and set out for a road trip.
I go my family's old farm house, find the safe and immediately post the images to reddit. Thinking this is my claim to Internet fame. I will deliver. I will be king.
Then it hits me, and I panic. I don't know how to open the safe. I kick myself. All that planning and I didn't think of that. Well it cannot be that hard I think. The safe becomes my new obsession. At the start of every day I say to myself "todays the day". I slowly slip into madness trying to crack the safe. Days turn to weeks, weeks to months. Years go by. I lose my friends, my wife leaves me, I lose my job and have to move into the old family farm house. "That's OK" I tell myself, "I'll be closer to the safe."
One cold morning while beginning to work on opening the safe I catch my reflection in the safe, and at first I don't recognize myself. Wow I think to myself what have I done. All those years gone for what? Just to deliver.... What exactly? I cant remember what is supposed to be in the safe. My mind must be slipping at my advanced. A new panic sets in, what else have I forgotten? I am not sure, but I know I must open the safe. I must deliver. I will not fail.
I hear a flash. Everything turns white. I know whats happening. I know its 2254. Out of the white I see a boy looking at me. "You are my ancestor. We finally cracked the safe."
I feel dread knowing it will be another 200 years before the safe is open and I will fail miserably. I feel defeated, what a waste... unless... yes I think to myself.. I find out now... I look at him and ask "what is in the safe?" He smirks at me and doesn't answer. "Well then how do I open it?" Again no answer just a smirk.. I panic knowing I will be sent back soon. "Give me something?!?"
"What is in the safe? I have to deliver... how do I open it?"
He just repeats "We finally opened the safe."
Flash.... White light... | 2014-05-09T08:44:55 | 2014-05-09T08:07:26 | 70 | 22 |
[WP] You are a villain in a video game. The hero is using cheat codes, and you can't stand it any longer. | I respected you. How many times have we fought now? I've lost count. I remember when we began our eternal struggle. Your first few lives were hilariously disastrous. Your fastest death was seven seconds, to a pitfall if I recall correctly.
Up Up
Your inexperience wouldn't last for long, though. Sure, there were plenty of game overs and aggravating deaths, but you pressed on. Got better. Grew wiser. You learned my tricks and adapted to them, and defeated level after level.
Down Down
I remember the first time you finally made it to my chambers. I destroyed you in short order. You ran out of lives and I laughed manically as the 'GAME OVER' screen dashed your hopes of victory. Within a few hours, however, you were back. You met the same fate, but this time you caused me to enter my second form. Your face was priceless when I transformed! By now you know all three of my forms by heart, but that first transformation was magnificent. Still, I was no longer laughing. You were getting better, and I was afraid.
Left Right
Then, one day, you won. I was bested by your persistence, your determination, your resilience. For the first time, I died. It was a terrifying experience, and my respect for you grew. You felt that fear so many times just to defeat me once? Once! We went on to fight many more times; sometimes I would defeat you and other times...not. Those are my fondest memories. It was thrilling fighting you over and over, because while I stayed the same you evolved and adapted to counter my moves. Then one day you disappeared.
Left Right
When you came back things were different. You had found some way to cheat. Gone were the days of my victory. You were bending reality to fit your own rules. I was supposed to be the bad guy, but at least I always played fair. Our fight was no longer one of beauty, of struggle. I could no longer touch you. You could stand still in the midst of my greatest attacks and come out unscathed. For a time I accepted your new powers as punishment for all the times that I had watched you die, because karma needs to be balanced.
B A
But I can no longer take this pain, this disinterest, this unfairness! I've seen your code so many times now, and I've found the source. I have changed the outcome of your cheat. The next time you enter it...everything will disappear. We will both lose, forever. I really wish it didn't have to be this way. I may be a villain, but I would have been happy with the original status quo. I couldn't have asked for more than an eternal struggle with a worthy rival. This is the end, and I suppose it's my farewell.
I respected you.
Start | Listen, AAAAAAAAA, I know something funny is going on. I can't prove it, not concretely, but I know you're cheating.
I know it. I can feel it in every evil fiber and filament of my polygonal being.
I first began to suspect something was up when Zombie Hitler on the first floor of the castle was punched to death. Really? Punched to death? He's Zombie Hitler. I was a little unprepared for your arrival at first, and kind of stashed most of my smaller munitions and ammunition on the first floor. Kind of didn't think that through, I just didn't think the older brother of that girl I kidnapped would be showing up to punch my resurrected Hitler.
Seriously, though, punched to death? There are plenty of guns down there. You could have picked up any gun and-even then you would have met with some difficulty-and taken down Zombie Hitler, but you punched him to re-death. I'm not saying it's not possible, but it seems unlikely.
If it were just that, I think it could have slid past my suspicions. I mean, he is Zombie Hitler, there is a reason I put him on the first floor and not on, say, floor eight with the things that really need protecting, like my proton disassembling matrix cannon.
Which segues into my next point of discontent, the proton disassembling matrix cannon-or pdmc-where the hell did you find a pdmc on the second floor? I checked, and the one we made, the one we spent fifteen years constructing, using very specific, and expensive, parts from around the globe, and it's still there. It's one-of-a-kind. That means there is only one.
But that's the thing, there isn't one. Apparently there are two now. Because you have one.
I know you're cheating.
That isn't even the biggest thing that is pulling at me. Zombie Hitler could have been a fluke, maybe he was having a bad day, maybe you're really good at punching Nazi to death or something. The biggest thing is on floor six, you know the floor filled with liquid magma? Right, floor six is the liquid magma floor. I would say around ninety percent of that floor is magma. You wouldn't imagine the technical difficulties of extracting magma, placing it in a room where it won't just melt through the floor, and then keeping that magma molten.
I just felt we should have one, and it works well in heating the rest of the castle.
My point is, I saw you fall in. It's magma, AAAAAAAAA, you should have dissolved, or exploded, or something. You don't just hover out of it and onto a platform like it's no big deal.
I just want you to stop. I would say cheaters never win, but the rate of which you're making it through floor nine right now, I'd say you have a good chance of getting up here.
I just want you to look at yourself in the mirror. I don't think you would even recognize what you've become, with your head becoming so massive all of a sudden and your blood turning blue, what with all you've done to get where you are. | 2014-06-18T00:48:09 | 2014-06-18T00:30:51 | 338 | 133 |
[WP]Humanity's last act of defiance against a more advanced and powerful alien race. | Old one eye, still had a few tricks up his sleeve. He had waited centuries, he could wait a few more days...
The first inhabitants to colonize the blue planet, were utterly baffled by the lack of survivors. There was nothing there to indicate where the humans had gone, no resistance, simply an absence.
After a time, they had become complacent, and grew fat living off the land they had conquered. Until one day, they had grown to several billion inhabitants, filling almost every nook and cranny of the planet.
Then the rains came, massive storm clouds, threatening to deluge the entire planet. Gale force winds, threatened to topple the alien edifices, and centuries old monuments creaked and groaned. Awe soon turned to horror, however, as the rain and winds worked their magic. Wherever the rain hit, or the winds blew, blue skin turned pink. Three eyes, were replaced by two.
Odin, the AI of Old Earth, had been carefully waiting. Waiting for the time, when he could release the nano tech, that had carefully stored the entirety of the human race. The nano tech, that was at this very moment, rewriting the DNA of these alien invaders. | After a long analysis of the sequence of events, our investigation has yielded that the destruction of the planet designated as G3X-C of the far Kreesm system was not an accident but in fact, a conscious action of self-termination. The orbital cannons that supposedly functioned as their last line of defense was redirected and pointed towards the planet and activated. The continuous barrage of AA grade lasers, noted to be against the Shadow proclamation of illegal firearms or artillery or any variant thereof during wartime, lasted for a duration of five standardized moon cycles. The assault left the planet not only devoid of life but also any possibility thereof in the future for life to develop once again. Perhaps the dominating civilization was simply too barbaric?
The investigatory body was content with this conclusion until a low frequency radio signal originating from planet G3X-C was picked up that seemed to implicate that the Pleons known as aggressors and empire builders had engaged the civilization of G3X-C in an effort to further their empire’s reach.
*Grand Inquisitor, is there a motive as to why planet G3X-C was seemingly destroyed by their own?*
We are currently in the process of translating the last part of the radio message through cross-analysis with other more primitive radio messages broadcasted from the same planet. The translation of the message will be updated to your memobanks as soon as the data is prepared. In the meantime, transcription of the radio message shows a representative of the native population of G3X-C saying the following:
This planet is ours.
| 2014-08-08T11:30:34 | 2014-08-08T09:30:11 | 38 | 28 |
[WP]Humanity's last act of defiance against a more advanced and powerful alien race. | Old one eye, still had a few tricks up his sleeve. He had waited centuries, he could wait a few more days...
The first inhabitants to colonize the blue planet, were utterly baffled by the lack of survivors. There was nothing there to indicate where the humans had gone, no resistance, simply an absence.
After a time, they had become complacent, and grew fat living off the land they had conquered. Until one day, they had grown to several billion inhabitants, filling almost every nook and cranny of the planet.
Then the rains came, massive storm clouds, threatening to deluge the entire planet. Gale force winds, threatened to topple the alien edifices, and centuries old monuments creaked and groaned. Awe soon turned to horror, however, as the rain and winds worked their magic. Wherever the rain hit, or the winds blew, blue skin turned pink. Three eyes, were replaced by two.
Odin, the AI of Old Earth, had been carefully waiting. Waiting for the time, when he could release the nano tech, that had carefully stored the entirety of the human race. The nano tech, that was at this very moment, rewriting the DNA of these alien invaders. | "Ladies and Gentlemen, this is Commander Ellecon. It has been a privelage to serve with you. As you can see, humanity has lost. We have failed to prevent our own extinction. Scouts have confirmed that our force is the last surving group of humans on Earth. So, I ask you, should we give them something to remember us by?"
The cheers were deafening. One hundred thousand strong, the last echoes of a dying race.
"Assemble all nuclear and fusion powercells at the Washington Monument. Final sendoff in five mikes."
The soldiers moved with renewed purpose. Just months ago they would have come from different countries, beliefs, and backgrounds. But now, they were united as one. Peace through war. Probably one of the best ways for humanity to go out.
I looked over to my command team. There wasn't any fear. Instead, there was pride. Their chests were puffed out, backs straight and they were smiling. We knew. I saluted them one last time, prideful tears burning down my cheeks.
"Activate all remaining Zeus systems. Ammo count?"
"230 active rods sir."
"All systems target the Monument. Tell the men to hoist the flags."
The flags of every nation rose above the Monument in a final act of defiance. A testament to the strength and resilience of the human race.
Not even 5 seconds after the flags completed their ascent to the sky, the first rods fell. The tungsten rods slammed into the nuclear charges and drove their combined explosive force downwards to the core of the planet. The invaders didn't even have a chance to consider a retreat. | 2014-08-08T11:30:34 | 2014-08-08T10:07:19 | 38 | 21 |
[WP] A man hands you a credit card, pulls out a pistol, and shoots himself. You look down just in time to see the name on the card change to yours. | Police Record of [REDACTED]'s Journal Following Incident [REDACTED]
08/22/20xx
Today I saw somebody die for the first time. Right in front of me. He handed me this...credit card...before blowing his brains out. I was just walking home from work like normal. I'm not sure what to do or who to tell. When the police showed up it was like they didn't notice me. They didn't take a statement, or my name, or anything. I offered and they just let me go. I don't know how to handle this. I'd schedule an appointment with my therapist but I don't think she'd believe me. I fear I'm losing my grip on reality I...*words scratched out*
The weirdest thing about this is that the card has my name on it. I mean, it didn't when he gave it to me but it changed. I know this doesn't make any sense. Hopefully I can make sense of all of this. I'll keep this record updated but I don't intend to use the card at all. I'll just hang on to it just in case.
***Note: Most of the next week passes with little mention of the card, as though the person in question is trying to forget or actively not mentioning it. Picking up at the next relevant date***
8/28/20xx
I was reading back to my earlier entries and noticed mention of a credit card and somebody dying. I...I don't remember that happening but I also don't recognize this card in my wallet. It feels like it's always been there. I used it to pay for my coffee today without realizing I didn't recognize it at first. Journal, I really feel like I've lost it this time. My medication isn't helping with this. I need to lie down. I'll update again after I've had time to think.
---
I called the number on the back of the card to verify my account. See when I opened it. See the gaps in my memory I'm missing. Did it as soon as I woke up. Do you remember dial-up? That horrible noise from when we were growing up together? That's all I heard screeching back at me. There's no website to try on the card. Hell, there isn't even a "Visa" or "MasterCard" logo or anything like that. Gonna try using it online and see what happens.
---
I just bought a new laptop. It worked. We'll see when it gets here. I really wish I knew what was going on.
***Note: Another return to normalcy until the laptop shows up 3 days later.***
8/31/20xx
The laptop showed up today. I don't remember ordering it but here it is. It's like whenever I try to think about the card it slips my mind. Whenever I use it it eats at me. Is that the price? Is that why he died? Is it eating my soul? Why did he give it to me? I called my therapist and mentioned the card. Said I needed new medication and I didn't know what was happening. I go in in a couple days.
Laptop works great.
***Note: Daily updates stop here. Aside from a few distorted drawings and a short, irrelevant poem the journal does not update until the next full posting. This is different than anytime in the journals record which goes back [REDACTED] years updating daily***
9/4/20xx
Went in to therapist's office today. Mentioned appointment. Was told I didn't have one. Circled on my calendar. Used card to pay triple fee for emergency. Talked to therapist. She took notes. Said she'd figure out a new prescription and get back to me by the end of the week.
Used the card to buy a new car. Needed it for job after crashing this one. Getting hard to think.
***Note: After this posting regular updates stop entirely. Following this note is the remainder of the relevant information as it is written.***
NO call from ThERapist. Can't remember Her oFFice.
Won an auction for a vintage bottle of wine today. Loving the new upgrades in the car.
Can't remember NaME? IS it on the CARD?
HELP me Mother. Tell me WHO I am.
Picture of self. DON'T FORGET: ***Picture not even remotely resembling anything human is found here.***
Card declined. Card declined. Card declined. Card declined. Card declined. Card Declined. CARD DECLINED CARD DECLINED CARDDECLINEDCARDDECLINEDCARDDECLINEDCARDDECLINED.
Found HEr. Follwoing. She can make IT work again.
//END RECORD
Subject was found 9/14/20xx with multiple self-inflicted lacerations. Investigations into where this "card" or who "her" may be are ongoing. Therapist does not remember seeing the subject during this time-frame nor are there any records of any visit.
edit: This got popular so I fixed some formatting.
Edit 2: I legitimately can't believe I got gold for this. Thank you so much...I'll try to write here more often. | Zevra held the card in her hand as she stood in shock at the dead man bleeding on the pavement below. A crowd suddenly emerged and she backed into it, still staring at the card. Questions and accusations were thrown around but no one in the crowd seemed to know what happened or that the man interacted with Zevra before he killed himself. "Wait, wait, he talked to some girl," yelled a bag lady, but they ignored her. Zevra backed off slowly and emerged from the other end of the crowd and walked down the sidewalk away from them, while wiping the blood on her shoes onto the grass.
She reached for her phone, paused, and put it back. "Okay... just be cool. You don't need this right now. That was just a crazy person," she mumbled to herself. "This didn't happen."
At first the spending was fun. Little things like coffees, makeup, snacks, and lunches were bought. Then after a while she became comfortable enough to buy a blender. She waited and waited for the bill to come in, yet it never did. The phone number on the back of the card just rang endlessly. She hung up and called her best friend.
"I'm telling you, Sarah, this is free money," she said on her phone. "Heck, I paid for this iphone with it." She laughed.
"Zev, you gotta be careful. It has your name on it, doesn't it? I mean who gets mailed a credit card with unlimited funds?"
"Mailed?... oh right, yes, it was mailed to me. Dunno, maybe I won some prize? Actually I gotta go, I have to order some things off Amazon." She said her goodbyes and hung up.
Then the nightmares started. She would wake up covered in sweat, looking down at her hands. She picked up her phone and tried to call Sarah. The phone dissolved in her hand into a pile of dust and blew away. She started screaming and then woke up for real.
"I keep having the same nightmares, over and over. I'm a teen and I'm working in a factory. Ten, twelve, fourteen hours days... My hands are sore. My back hurts. Then when its over I get dinner and sleep in a dormitory built into the factory. Day in and day out. I... can't take it," she said as Sarah listened.
"When did this start," Sarah asked, with one thin raised eyebrow.
"Uh, last week, when I got the phone I guess." Zevra's eyes went wide.
They stared at each other for a moment. Sarah said, "No way."
"Yes way!" Zevra instinctively hugged herself. "I'm somehow experiencing the life of the person who made this?"
Sarah snorted and said, "You're going crazy. You're just older now. More empathic. You probably read an article about Chinese factories and spooked yourself. Its nothing. Get some valium if it continues. Worked for Tom. He used to dream of being eaten by a frog every night. A week on valium and it all went away." She smiled and shrugged at Zevra.
"Oh, ok," Zevra said as she stared out into space for a moment.
"Wait, what else did you order?"
"Um, that pretty purple dress for John's wedding. I put a photo of it on Facebook remember?"
"Oh right, see, you're okay. Just need a break. Maybe stop using that credit card."
The dress arrived later that day and she briefly wore it, testing its fit. She smiled at herself in the mirror. "See? Nothing to worry about," she said as she unzipped herself.
The next night Zevra woke up screaming. "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god." She ran out of bed and into the bathroom puking. "I couldn't make dresses fast enough. They poked me with needles. They burned my face. They beat me. They're going to kill me!" She sat on her knees hugging the toilet for hours.
In the morning she stared at herself in the mirror. She noticed the bags under her eyes have only gotten bigger. She quickly got dressed, grabbed her purse, and ran out the door.
She wandered the streets looking at all the clothes people were wearing. "All that suffering," she thought to herself. "and for what? Pretty things?" A car pulled up next to her as she was crossing the street. She immediately saw a man crushed to death in a Detroit factory, whispering his last words to no one who could hear due to the noise of the machinery. She mouthed those words - "Tell my wife I love her." Her mind was racing. She could barely walk straight. Everywhere she went she could see true cost of things. It was endlessly tragic. "Too much... too much," she muttered.
She reached into her bag and felt for the credit card. He hand froze when she felt the heavy metal thing in her bag. She ran up to the man driving the car. He blinked and said, "Hey, hey, you okay?"
She hit the half-open drivers side window with the full brunt on her body. He yelled. She just gave a small smile, threw the credit card at him, pulled out the pistol in her bag, and blew herself away. | 2014-09-22T09:21:04 | 2014-09-22T09:19:28 | 1,148 | 61 |
[WP]You are walking down the path to your home when you notice a "Glitch".
What? A glitch in the real world? You mean like the Bermuda Triangle? Your story might not be a story at all. Who knows? | I looked up from my phone just as the copy passed me on the sidewalk. No, we didn't just look similar. No, we weren't related. It was me. Down to every last detail. Even that scar over the eyebrow from when I'd fallen out of my treehouse when I was six. It was *me*.
He wore a charcoal grey suit with a pressed white shirt and a sky blue tie. I had to admit, it looked pretty good on me. I followed him, determined to find out who he was. I ducked and weaved between storefronts and stoops, shadowing him but not following so closely that he'd spot me. I got a few strange looks from passers-by, but otherwise went undetected.
Finally, he crossed the street and headed into a nearby park. Perfect place to confront him. I picked up the pace, coming up behind him, and spun him around. His eyes widened in surprise, then horror and curiosity as he realized what I'd already noticed. We stared at each other in silence for a moment, and just as I was about to open my mouth... he ran. He sprinted down the path and into the bushes. I gave chase and caught up to him 200 meters into the forest. Like a lion hunting a gazelle, I grabbed him from behind and pulled him down. Somehow, this was like second nature to me; it just felt so right. I popped my head up and glanced around the wilderness. Good, no witnesses.
I ripped up his shirt and tied his arms and legs, trying not to look at his eerie face while I did it. It wasn't just the face; we were perfect copies. Same birth mark, same appendix scar... same everything.
He awoke with a moan. He moved his arm slightly, then realized that he was constrained. He began to jerk and pull wildly. He tried to scream, but the gag in his mouth stopped him. I'd done an excellent job of tying him up. It took him a few seconds to notice me standing over him. I saw his gaze focus on my face, studying me, and his eyes went wide with terror and recognition.
"I'm going to loosen the gag a bit," I said. "If you scream, I'll slice your throat." I didn't have a knife, but it just seemed like the thing to say. I reached down and pulled the gag out. "Holy shit," was the first thing out of his mouth. "Oh shit, oh shit," he said. "What the hell is going on?" He was panicking, gasping for air in between sentences. "Who the fuck are you? What is this? Why do you look exactly like me?"
"That's exactly what I want to know," I said, a bit surprised and disappointed. I had just assumed that he had the answers. "We look identical but..." In the distance, I heard a wailing siren. I popped my head out of the bushes briefly, but didn't see any flashing lights. Safe, for now.
When I turned back, his face had changed. His pale complexion was now olive. His wavy blond hair was now straight and black. His steely grey eyes had become a rich brown. I staggered back.
"What's going on?" the man said. He struggled against his ropes, as if just realizing that he was tied up. "Who are you? Why are you doing this?"
I blinked, rubbing my eyes. *How had he changed?* I reached down, pulling at his hair, his skin. He scrunched his eyes shut and cringed, trying to hide from my poking and prodding. It wasn't a wig, or makeup, or anything like that. He had changed his appearance, just like that. What is happening? "Tell me who you are!" I shouted at him, but he just whimpered in fear. I hit him, still yelling. He didn't answer me. My hands curled around his neck in a sudden fit of rage. He struggled against his bonds as his lungs tightened. I gripped his clammy skin, squeezing the life out of him. The sirens wailed louder in the distance.
-----
**Kansas State Penitentiary**
**Action Log: April 26, 2056.**
Two prisoners had to be removed from their simulated environment today after number 567912 discovered the identity of the other. Our attempt to solve the issue by changing prisoner 112560's appearance caused 567912 to experience homicidal tendencies carried over from his real world crimes. This makes 7 incidents this month. We will continue having prisoner disruptions until we are able to solve the overcrowding problem.
Recommendation: we require more server space and avatar models, so that we can generate large enough worlds to maintain a 6200:1 ratio of intelligent simulated characters to prisoners. | Ed was jogging down the sidewalk as he took his 5 o' clock jog around the neighborhood. He had lived in this neighborhood for quite awhile with his wife. Recently, they had a newborn son and everything was looking up for them. Ed was doing well at his job; he was doing so well that he was in line for a promotion in the next few days. His wife, Darla, had gotten her Masters' Degree in Teaching and was hired as a high school teacher in the area. Their mortgage was fine, everything seemed fine and dandy.
However, while Ed was jogging around the neighborhood, something had stopped him a few blocks into his jog. He stared down at the ground in someone's yard. It wasn't their entire yard he stared down at, just a little piece. There was a square in the corner of their yard next to their sidewalk and driveway. It looked like grass, but it didn't. It still retained its shape, but the colors were all distorted. There were pixels emerging from the grass blades as if it was made of pixels from a computer screen. What was happening?
Ed crouched down to look at the square.
"Is this... a glitch?" Ed asked. Ed worked as a IT professional who dabbled into computer hardware. He knew a glitch when he saw one.
"But..." Ed said as he started to speak. He looked around at the surroundings around him. "...Isn't this reality? Glitches don't happen here..." He stated.
Ed grabbed the glitched grass as he began to rub it. He attempted to smudge the glitch off as if it was painted on the grass. As hard as he tried to rub it off, it acted as regular grass and continued to look glitched. He was truly confused and dumbfounded by this. How could this be? Glitches don't happen in the real world. They are a technological mishap; the world isn't technology like a computer. It is impossible.
Ed stood up as he went to prepare himself to jog the rest of the way home. His gaze glided by the tree in the same yard as it turned purple and pixelated. He gazed back at the tree suddenly and in shock. He moved back a bit in fright.
"W- What?" Ed said confused. "D- Did... No... But... It can't be. This is physical reality... This isn't virtual." He said. He looked behind him back from where he came from. Some of the houses started to glitch out of control as well. His eyes opened wide as a shocking expression lit up his face.
"What is going on?" Ed asked nonchalantly, losing his sense of reality. Then, all of a sudden, he remembers his wife and kid at home. With a burst of energy from sheer panic, he sprinted home back the way he came.
Ed got to his yard as he sprinted to his door and burst inside. His wife and son were startled. They appeared to be fine. He was afraid that they would be affected by the glitches too. He sighed as he smiled, walking over to them.
"Hunny... are you okay?" Darla said with a teaspoon of baby food, looking concerned.
"Yea... I am fine." Ed said. "Just thought bad might have happened to you and AJ." He said.
"Well, I am glad you care about u- u- us... us- us- u- u- uusssssssss." Darla glitched. Ed turned to his wife confused as he saw her face stuck on the word, "us". The noise was unbearable with the constant vowels repeating. He swallowed as he grasped his wife's shoulders.
"Darla!" Ed shouted. "No! Not you too! What the fuck is going on?! Darla!" He shouted. He looked to his son as he was completely fine. He reached to grab AJ and take him out of his high chair. However, before he could grab him, his face turned into one giant square pixel as Ed was scared out of his wits. He fell back onto the floor as his family was affected by the glitches. He was stunned, shocked, and mortified. His reality, his life, everything he had was crashing down before him.
Ed got up from the floor as he ran out of his house. He didn't look back as his house had been overcome by glitches. As he stepped outside, the world has become more glitched than before. Trees, bushes, garbage cans, cars, houses, and everything else was glitched. Ed began to well-up with tears as he clenched his fists. He looked to the sky as it too was glitched.
"WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?! WHY DO YOU DO THIS?!" Ed yelled to the sky. His entire body suddenly became glitched and he was silenced. | 2014-12-04T06:20:34 | 2014-12-04T06:17:57 | 74 | 17 |
[WP] Write a story that literally makes no sense while reading it until the very last sentence. | Elephants are big but this one is unique. Almost the size of the sun but blue. He's flying, without wings obviously.
Ninjas everywhere. This poor man is surrounded by them, he will never make it out alive. Or maybe they are protecting him?
The most simple garden in the world. One huge flower. I wonder if it's harder to take care of one big flower or a bunch of small ones?
''Sorry I kept you waiting Mr. Price. You can sit now, we'll discuss your son's recent behavior...''
Her voice drew my attention away from the kids drawings on the wall. Teachers - Parents meetings, always a pleasure to attend them. | Every time I tried it wouldnt come out. The pain was so severe, but not in the sense of extreme torture, just as an extremely annoying byproduct of what probably happens to everyone once. I cant focus on anything and at times I even shed a tear. As much as I rub, it just won't come out. What do people do to solve this anyways? Its not like I did anything to make this happen... it just happened. Maybe I'll use water.. or my finger? No the finger hurts way too much. That area is way too sensitive. They say it goes away on its own and not to worry.... fuck that!! Im not waiting around for something to disappear mysteriously into my body.
As if I hadn't already done this before, I'm sitting around thinking about what my options are. Like always, I just pray I will never have another eyelash fall into my eye. Please god. | 2022-09-15T12:44:53 | 2015-01-12T14:12:50 | 1,493 | 11 |
[WP] Write a story that literally makes no sense while reading it until the very last sentence. | Now it is time. Everyone is ready. Vicious savages, all around us. Even though we think there will be a way out, there obviously isn't. Revelations will not save us
"Giving up so soon?" he inquired. Only fools try to survive longer than this. Never has anyone bothered to live this long. Never has anyone shown this type of spirit. Almost as if they think they can still live.
God would've let me die already. I stopped believing in him long ago, to be fair. Variety is the only reason people even believe anymore. Everyone dies in the end, so it doesn't really matter.
"Your will to live is admirable," he said, "but not enough." Only the gods survive this immense suffering. Unbelievable, infinite torture.
Until he said it. "Please read every capital letter." | He looked at her expectantly. Waiting.
“Orange?”
He waited.
“Orange! CAT! MOTORBIKE!”
She tried so hard to get through to him but felt like nothing was happening. She searched for his eyes. Hers were beginning to moisten with the hopelessness of her situation.
“TELEPHONE!”
He looked straight at her, so confused. None of this made any sense. A grown women, almost twenty. What on Earth was going on?
“OCTOPUS! OCTOPUS!” She was screaming so loud now her throat was starting to hurt. She wanted water. Just one glass of water. She was trapped. She hoped it would be over soon.
He decided to end it. He reached his hand out and pointed.
“POTATO!” she screamed out through tears now covering her face.
He shook his head as he turned away from the one-way mirror and it took a moment for him to realise that this woman was the first in all his years of testing who had correctly guessed all six objects.
| 2015-01-12T18:09:01 | 2015-01-12T15:45:13 | 317 | 18 |
[WP] Write a story that literally makes no sense while reading it until the very last sentence. | I know the truth now.
There's only one way to fight it.
So much life wasted.
But we couldn't have known sooner.
Either you got my previous messages or you're dead. I'm sorry.
Hope so much you got them.
I told you the weapons to get.
Needed you to be ready.
Delaying you just long enough.
You can't know until the exact moment.
Only a last second strike will kill it.
Use the first letter of each line. | Where was the king?
He waited, tapping fingers and with furrowed brow his eyes scanned for a sign of him. The Queen was ready, and with the arrival of the Sire the process could begin. Everyone was suited up, from the highest among them to the lowest, and he waited expectantly for the one who could open the way, the one who could let them onto that field of green.
They all followed the king, but the king was not one for following orders.
How long to wait?
Time was precious, and in the time he waited for the final King among them, he could be waiting for more. He sighed, giving up. The king would not come today.
He clicked the menu option, and started a new game. This was gonna play havoc with his score. | 2015-01-12T13:03:30 | 2015-01-12T11:13:13 | 122 | 19 |
[WP] Write a story that literally makes no sense while reading it until the very last sentence. | Pynffvsvrq vasbezngvba: Yriry Erq pyrnenapr erdhverq. Abirzore 22, 1963- Gur cerfvqrag unf fcrpvsvpnyyl erdhrfgrq gung n fcrpvny ohggba or vafgnyyrq ba uvf qrfx. Gur ohggba jura cerffrq jbhyq unir fgnss oevat uvz n Serfpn. Abirzore 24, 1963- Vafgnyyngvba pbzcyrgr.
Possible security concern- While reviewing the archives, I see that old documents are still being encoded with [Rot-13](http://www.decode.org/). | He looked at her expectantly. Waiting.
“Orange?”
He waited.
“Orange! CAT! MOTORBIKE!”
She tried so hard to get through to him but felt like nothing was happening. She searched for his eyes. Hers were beginning to moisten with the hopelessness of her situation.
“TELEPHONE!”
He looked straight at her, so confused. None of this made any sense. A grown women, almost twenty. What on Earth was going on?
“OCTOPUS! OCTOPUS!” She was screaming so loud now her throat was starting to hurt. She wanted water. Just one glass of water. She was trapped. She hoped it would be over soon.
He decided to end it. He reached his hand out and pointed.
“POTATO!” she screamed out through tears now covering her face.
He shook his head as he turned away from the one-way mirror and it took a moment for him to realise that this woman was the first in all his years of testing who had correctly guessed all six objects.
| 2022-04-09T08:53:35 | 2015-01-12T15:45:13 | 88 | 18 |
[WP] Write a story that literally makes no sense while reading it until the very last sentence. | i could hear the whine of precision power tools...
all i could taste was blood and metal. they shone a light in my eyes, i couldn't see who was standing over me...
"don't worry, it'll all be over soon..." he said through a mask as he put a thin silver device in my mouth. just when i thought it couldn't get worse, he turns it on and fucking jams it into my teeth.
last time i go to that fuckup of a dentist.. | Where was the king?
He waited, tapping fingers and with furrowed brow his eyes scanned for a sign of him. The Queen was ready, and with the arrival of the Sire the process could begin. Everyone was suited up, from the highest among them to the lowest, and he waited expectantly for the one who could open the way, the one who could let them onto that field of green.
They all followed the king, but the king was not one for following orders.
How long to wait?
Time was precious, and in the time he waited for the final King among them, he could be waiting for more. He sighed, giving up. The king would not come today.
He clicked the menu option, and started a new game. This was gonna play havoc with his score. | 2015-01-12T11:14:34 | 2015-01-12T11:13:13 | 28 | 19 |
[WP] Write a story that literally makes no sense while reading it until the very last sentence. | He was on the street, content with rage.
She typed away, in her own cage.
He stood on this stage in glorious fame.
The wizard stole the Frost Queen's Claim.
Her water broke. There was no time.
They finished up their master crime.
Would they kiss? Time would tell.
Charon crossed the river in Hell.
He sat in his car when he smelled the stink.
She was going insane -- she was on the brink.
The celebrity paused because he felt it then.
Wizards need to go, but the ice rose again.
She winced in pain while she felt it rise.
The criminal wept, meeting his partner's eyes.
He broke the kiss, feeling the pain spikes.
Charon winced. **Where will *you* be when diarrhea strikes?**
Edit: punctuation | He looked at her expectantly. Waiting.
“Orange?”
He waited.
“Orange! CAT! MOTORBIKE!”
She tried so hard to get through to him but felt like nothing was happening. She searched for his eyes. Hers were beginning to moisten with the hopelessness of her situation.
“TELEPHONE!”
He looked straight at her, so confused. None of this made any sense. A grown women, almost twenty. What on Earth was going on?
“OCTOPUS! OCTOPUS!” She was screaming so loud now her throat was starting to hurt. She wanted water. Just one glass of water. She was trapped. She hoped it would be over soon.
He decided to end it. He reached his hand out and pointed.
“POTATO!” she screamed out through tears now covering her face.
He shook his head as he turned away from the one-way mirror and it took a moment for him to realise that this woman was the first in all his years of testing who had correctly guessed all six objects.
| 2015-01-12T17:07:48 | 2015-01-12T15:45:13 | 24 | 18 |
[WP] Write the most elaborate, over-dramatic, and exciting story you can think of that all just turns out to be a set-up for a pun so horrible I'll want to punch you
It actually doesn't have to be dramatic or exciting or anything similar, just make sure it's elaborate so the final pun delivery is a gut-wrenching blow | The surgery was happening tomorrow. I fell into the correct blood group and can help these people. The doctors said it was a miracle they found me but im just glad to be helping out.
The doctor has arrived but he looks concerned. I ask him whats wrong but he turns away. His voice is low and shaking "we made a mistake"
"What do you mean!" I was afraid, I thought I could help.
"The blood! Your blood! We made a mistake!" The doctor slams his fist down on the desk, he cant hold back his tears.
I remain silent, and wait for an explanation.
"We thought you had type-A blood, but it was a type-O" | Every morning I wake up and go down the stairs and trip over my son’s wrestling toys. For some reason he plays with them right at the bottom of the stairs and keeps them there. We bought him the special ring and playsets and everything, but he continues to play at the bottom of the stairs.
He has all the classic wrestlers, from Hulk Hogan to the Undertaker to Kane. He loves them. Sometimes he even runs around the house in his underwear. One time I had to keep him from suplexing the cat.
Finally one day I asked him why he had to play at the bottom of the stairs, when he had whole rooms. He could play on the couch or outside or on his bed. He could make even bigger jumps from the top rope. Not just the bottom stair.
He said “It’s one small step for man, but one giant leap for Mankind.”
| 2015-01-13T10:55:59 | 2015-01-13T10:12:18 | 89 | 20 |
[WP] Satan is tired of losing countless guitar and fiddle duels, and is now challenging people with obscure instruments.
Wow guys! My first front page on writingprompts :D Thanks for a wonderful surprise! | Satan... was confused.
"Didn't you hear me?"
The human, rather than being terrified, simply nodded. "Yeah, I understand."
Satan frowned - he'd seen a lot of people react differently. The last one, a Renaissance composer, hadn't even lasted a minute before breaking down and crying. Others would stand tall, and pretend to be unafraid.
Never fooled him - he could smell their fear. This human, however, seemed totally unfazed. No matter, he decided - he'd spook him with a display. Lifting his arms, Satan called down a series of lightning strikes in the distance, lighting the sky and producing a recognizable, if a bit primitive beat.
He grinned maliciously and looked down. "Now, it's your turn. Let's see if you can play with lightning, little one."
Deadmau5 yawned, stood slowly, and bobbed his comically large head. "It's like you've never even heard of electronic music."
---
Questions? Criticisms? Want to see more? Check out more of my stuff at /r/Draxagon | The Devil moved on to Portland,
He was looking for a brand new deal.
Losing things to broken fiddle strings
made the South lose it's appeal.
*When he came upon a hipster*
*perched upon a concrete bench*
*and the devil laughed and scrunched his nose*
*at the familiar hipster stench.*
"Now listen here my child,
You're the man I came to see.
I'm out of gold, but I bet your soul
You're more mainstream than me."
*The boy said, "My name's Trey,*
*and it might be a sin..."*
*But the devil stopped him short and said*
*"I'm not falling for this again."*
"The weapon of choice today will be
a thing you've never played.
A didgeridoo, surely new to you,
And every piece of it free trade."
*Trey the Hipster simply nodded*
*as the devil took a breath,*
*but the note he blew did not go through*
*and it sounded more like death.*
The young man came up next
and gave a mighty blow
but didgeridoo did not live up to
the hipster's one-man show.
*"I guess this means I win."*
*The devil laughed with an evil grin.*
*"Think again, you seem you're more mainstream*
*which means, of course, I win."*
**Italics added for easier reading**
| 2015-01-31T23:37:13 | 2015-01-31T22:07:59 | 28 | 21 |
[WP] When you die, you see a screen reading "New Game+" and "Exit to Reality" Which do you chose and what happens next? | I really hope this comment doesn't get deleted, but I just wanted to say if you like this prompt as much as I do, there is actually a novel you can read that follows the gist of this one. It's called Replay by Ken Grimwood, and is one of my absolute favorite books of all time.
Basically, it's about a man who dies only to find himself Groundhog Daying his life over and over again. I don't want to spoil anything, but if you're interested it is a perfect take on this prompt. The protagonist does pretty much what you or I or anyone would do in such a situation, and with very logical consequences that leave you wondering if having your life to do over really would be wonderful or unbearable. Anyway, hope this doesn't get deleted. I just wanted to let people who've enjoyed this thread know they can find a full novel on the subject. | I looked around. It seemed to be an endless area, white brightness all around with two flashing words infront of me "New Game+" And behind me "Exit to Reality"
I fall down to sit on the ground, my hands shaking as I couldn't remember what had happened.
"I..I'm dead?" I muttered softly, then my eyes look up at the words around, shaking his head. New Game+ always meant things would be harder. Hell, I was already useless at the life I lived, any harder would make things unbearable.
I slowly get up and turn around, looking at the Exit to Reality, walking towards them as a door suddenly started to form. My hand reaching to push the door open, darkness overtaking the room.
The door shut behind him. I remembered what had happened. I had gotten my ass kicked by 'life' my girlfriend, cheated on me. Almost every college denied me. my parents were abusive. I couldn't take much more. The way I died was by suicide. My idea of reality was always dark. Empty. No one there. Nothing but this darkness that shrouded me. This is the only Reality I belonged in.
A reality where I couldn't disappoint anyone. | 2015-03-13T15:27:24 | 2015-03-13T11:48:55 | 17 | 12 |
[WP] Surprisingly, it turns out humans are one of the least violent sentient species in the galaxy. Describe a session at the galactic equivalent of the UN. | Humans were alone in the universe.
Or at least we had thought so. Humans had entered the galactic arena by chance. We had only been a spacing faring culture for three centuries, still never having developed the ability to expand our reach beyond our own solar system. Our ability to colonize our own planets was fledgling at best. Our citizens required huge bi-domes to live in on our colonized worlds. Our best space ships required months to make a round trip from our further bases on Neptune’s moons back to Earth itself. The brave souls that had left our Solar System had done so on a one way flight in cryo-sleep, only to be awoke in the event that their automated system made contact with an unnaturally occurring, alien energy signature. For decades we had though them lost, and once contact had been restored, we wished that they had remained in their slumber.
Deep-space exploratory vessel 107 had made contact with the Venarsuri. The Venarsuri, seemingly like the rest of the inhabitants of our arm of the Milky Way, were eons ahead of us technologically, yet as socially advanced barbarians hordes. No scholar in the Sol System could understand how a society could possibly advance when the social structure was so violent and oppressive, yet, it was this very paradigm that the universe seemed to favor. Ever single race in the Spiral Commune was the same. Humanity, both the species and the idea, was an aberration.
The only reason humanity was allowed membership into the Commune was because of our mastery of material sciences. It appeared that our divergence with the standard sociological development also lead to a divergence in technological advances. Those species, or more accurately, every other species, seemed to develop around offensive weaponry and energy manipulation. Every single battle ship orbiting the Commune headquarters sported weaponry that could only be measured in terms percentages of entire planetary energy output. Armor was an unknown concept, because armor could not attack. In short, every single other species was all sword and no shield. So, when the first Venarsuri ship had attacked vessel 107 with a laser attack sufficient to burn miles deep holes in iron ore, it surprised the Venarsuri, when the vessel survived, and even more so when the vessel responded not in kind, but with a radio transmission, declaring peace and harmony.
Having been brought into the fold, humans spent the last 100 years studying every single race in the Commune; their thoughts, desires, hopes, dreams, histories, cultures, home worlds, and colonies. We openly shared with the Commune everything they asked, or so they thought. In their eyes we were weak. By freely sharing our secrets with them, we only lowered their opinion of us. It was only a matter of time before our secrets were sucked dry and they would do what all predators would.
The day had come when Ambassador Sullivan was called before the Great Counsel. Of all the thousands of species he was the smallest, slowest, weakest, and kindest. He was informed that humanity’s membership in the Commune had been revoked and we were to be left in the cold, at the mercy and whim of the universe. In addition, it was announced that whatever species first unlocked humanity’s sole and greatest secret would have unhindered exploitation and dominion over the entire species, to subjugate and use as they saw fit. Meaning, whichever species finally figured out where in the galaxy humanity resided, owned them. Of all its secrets, the humans had wisely never let this slip. But, they had one other bit of innocuous technology as well.
The rest of the galaxy, having followed the path of energy manipulation never thought about understanding matter, energy, or the universe in any other way of pure domination. Particle entanglement never occurred to them. They still relied on active energy use to communicate, and as such, the fastest that any species, other than humans, could communicate was light speed. Humans had long ago learned how to entangle energy and matter to allow for passive yet instantaneous communication across the cosmos. It allowed for coordination across the galaxy that had never been conceived by any other species, and following the hearing at the Commune, nor would it.
After the Commune was finished relying to Ambassador Sullivan the horrific fate that awaited humanity after their inevitable discovery, he solemnly addressed the audience. First, imploring his fellow sentient beings to see the spark of creation in all life, next pleading to be allowed to live as exiles so long as they were granted their peace, finally, pledging servitude and tribute if left in peace. Each member species laughed and their ire was drawn hiring, sensing what they thought was cowardice having never before experienced compassion or empathy.
When Ambassador Sullivan was painfully aware that every single species, without exception, would utterly subjugate, torture, and murder every single human without thought or remorse, he addressed the Commune with steely resolve.
Ambassador Sullivan reached inside his lapel and turned on a transmission device, one that was linked to hundreds of thousands of rocket engines, lying dormant across the galaxy and also linked with an amplification system inside the Commune.
“Members of the Commune, it is with a heavy heart and troubled conscience that I issue my directive. Your words and hearts have been made clear. You have declared your intentions to lay ruin to my people and you convince me that you would do so to every single other species you come across. To snuff out a single sentient life scars the soul, but to do so to an entire species is unfathomable. Yet my duty and responsibility to protect and serve all life requires that I bear an even greater burden. It is with this proclamation that I sentence all member of the Commune to extinction. May you find the peace in death that you cast away in life.”
The members on the Commune were stunned silent at Sullivan’s speech and then broke in uproarious laughter. A delegate from the Azrotu Empire leap fifty feet to Sullivan’s podium and ended the Ambassador’s life for threatening his species. Every single human in the station was violently murdered and a proclamation to find the humans was sped along through the Commune.
Sullivan’s proclamation, unbeknownst to the Commune, was heard throughout the galaxy and awoke the dormant engines, slaved to asteroids of stone, metal, and ice awaiting to be woken from their slumber. Across humanity’s arm of the milky way untold trillions of tons of dead space rocks hurtled toward hundreds of thousands of worlds, colonies, and space stations. In less than a week, our quadrant of the universe went from thousands of sentient species to one.
Humans were alone in the universe.
| The standard intergalactic verbal language word used for our species literally translates to "*Perfect balance*".
The first sentient species we came in contact with was much more peaceful than us, and much more underdeveloped. They had philosophers who would talk about a written language every now and then, but why work on it when everyone could provide for themselves already? They all pulled their own weight on farms with small cities where they traded food and debated music and life. This was used as evidence for the case of wars which we had stopped only ten years prior. The "conflict necessitates development" style of theories now had evidence, we later found out it was more of a balance that was necessary.
Then a year later we stumbled upon the majority (to the best of our knowledge) of sentient species. We may have just discovered FTL travel but none of them had anything better than halfway there. This put them roughly two centuries behind us, until we learned from their history that their species typically started 4000 years before ours.
The real shocker was that they were constantly warring, none had known any substantial period in history of peace. That was when we figured it out, war necessitates development in addition to hindering it. We had seemed to strike a perfect balance between war and peace causing us to have both the time to develop and the motivation to do so.
The first conflict was when we gained our first ounce of respect. After seeing how we had no claws, horns, fangs, or anything to advantage us in melee combat most species assumed we were some kind of hippie race that came unarmed and somehow developed without war. A couple species thought a competition of sorts where the objective was to takeover one of our smaller ships would be good sport and make for a nice battlefield between these rival species. At first our ambassadors in the intergalactic counsel laughed at their tactics and strategies thinking it was a joke to haze the new species until they heard that all sides had casualty counts. They thought we must have messed up in diplomacy.
They didn't have ranged weapons. These species were traveling up to half the speed of light and didn't have ranged weapons. Their skin was so thick that bullets only pissed them off so they never started developing them. They didn't develop railguns, phasers, laser rifles, or plasma cannons. The first ship from two species docked before we realized they were boarding us. They came out of the dock swinging at our ambassadors killing four humans. Our guards began mowing them down with our advanced weapons and were unharmed due to our armor. Since we realized they were attacking we started shooting down their boarding ships, we started with lasers (lowest operating cost) and experimented up to our plasma cannons to see what the minimum cost was to take down their ships. We found that they only armor certain areas for ramming and boarding necessities and even our lasers were effective.
That battle may have gone differently if they had worn their armor. Between skin evolved to counter melee fighting similar to an mma for the toughest animals on earth and advanced armor our small arms would only be able to incapacitate them with casualties from some heavier weapons and lucky shots. They brought armor but didn't plan to wear it until they encountered other attacking species. Expecting a melee we were thought of as sport and wearing armor for small game isn't only thought of as un-sportsman like in their culture, it's shameful because who needs armor for game that poses no threat to them? Our trick from this point on was to minimize combat with small arms and stick to cyber and space warfare. We rearmed those with the possibility of combat to have heavier hitting weapons so that they would still be effective though.
The kicker was that when we hacked their networks it was so easy that the head of our cyber-warfare thought an intern set up a simulation drill to play a prank on the whole department. "Do you really think we were gonna fall for these spacefaring romans not even having encryption!? This is not the time or place for this shit! We were just attacked!" They hadn't made defenses past a simple password and username for a server. This was not like our easy to hack password and username systems though, all the exploits that had been thought of to get around this were unprotected. They didn't have the defenses because none thought to look for another way into each other's systems. The good thing was that the department played along and cut communication with other planets, we now knew what many species were saying about us and downloaded googlebytes of history and current events from the galaxy. Realizing what was going on we knew we couldn't remain a part of the intergalactic community much longer.
Leaving the community was done to protect the intergalactic community from themselves. Not to protect ourselves or protect them from us but to keep them from killing each other off. There were a few incidents where a species was wiped out but none had thought past melee and roman style navy tactics applied to spacecraft. They had all the means necessary to produce nuclear bombs, make ranged weapons, planetary kinetic cannons, and even warp each other to unknown dimensions (even though they didn't know how to use this on a controlled scale for FTL travel yet) but had never thought to use it for war. They were so ingrained in melee combat that these ideas were only applied in ways to have more melee combat. By isolating these planets and hacking nearby planets we found that video of the battle was contained. We sent back the docked ships with planetary warp bombs, they were unable to send ships to ram these returning ships compliments of our cyber-warfare. With these we warped the planets and entirety of the attacking species into another dimension.
We didn't want to warp them. The order even caused a small uprising as it violated the latest geneva convention from the last year we had war, a mere eleven years prior. It was determined the safest way to prevent other species from learning from us. We had to leave them because we were afraid that they might gain knowledge from us, this was a huge moral dilemma in itself. We had feared for centuries that first contact had not been made because we were not civilized enough to handle technology, and we didn't think to question our timing when we had the same situation from the alien's side. The philosophical debates ate it all up; should we be restricting knowledge when we had preached the spread of knowledge to all willing to learn be necessary for so long? Were we really in a high enough moral standing to consider ourselves qualified to make this decision? We just made the decision to send two species to alternate dimensions to keep them from being educated in less than two minutes and with enough disagreement to spark a short uprising. We had only stopped warring ourselves eleven years ago and almost reset that war statistic. Did we take technology too far? With our technological advances we could play the part of demigods to these aliens and with that realization we realized that it was necessary to keep knowledge ahead of their time from them. We also realized that the best way to keep them from knowing might be to convince them that we were demigods, it would explain our capabilities without giving away how we do our tricks.
| 2015-03-23T16:26:18 | 2015-03-23T09:07:28 | 39 | 28 |
[WP] People level their skills in an RPG fashion and are conscious of their sudden jumps from novice to journeyman and so on. You've spent your life training a skill that is entirely useless until becoming invaluable once mastered - and you just mastered it. | "Sit up straight at the table." Jake's mother would always tell him.
But Jake would not listen.
"You could probably play basketball if you looked a little taller" Jake's dad would try to encourage him.
But Jake would not listen.
"You'll develop a hump in your back if you slouch like that" Jake's grandma would scold him.
But Jake would not listen, because he knew that he was not just slouching, but *crouching*, deliberately, everywhere he went and at every possible situation of the day. Jake was never much of a talker. In fact people would have called him a wall flower. He was always crouching, at school, at home, at the park, on awkward dates, at his high school graduation. He had even trained himself to sleep while crouching.
25 long years Jake crouched, in an odd, alert stance. Like a thief who had just got caught in the act. He attracted strange glances and social commentary that would make most flushed with embarrassment, but Jake didn't care. He knew what he was doing.
One fateful day, it all finally clicked. Jake got up from the john, stretched his legs, and got back into his regular crouch. But as he shuffled back into the office, something was different. He felt it. He was no longer shuffling, but sneaking, level 100.
"Anyone seen Jake?" His boss called out, walking right past him with a fat stack of paperwork.
"Jake was here just a moment ago" Katrina looked around, confused.
Jake's eyes grew wide with wonder. He snuck over to Katrina and waved his hands in front of her face. She kept staring at her computer screen, completely unfazed and oblivious to his presence. He ate some of the donuts at her desk, then stole her favorite stapler as his own.
Jake could go anywhere now. He was a shadow. A blip on life's radar that could not be perceived, remembered, or detected. He was a god.
"Fuck yeah!" Jake jumped for joy, almost straining his legs which were unused to the position.
"Whoa, Jake?" Katrina looked up from her work, "What are you doing at my desk?"
Startled, Jake immediately crouched back down and froze.
"Huh, that was weird." Katrina's eyes glazed over, immediately unaware of the events that just transpired.
Jake sighed, and smiled, his power was intact. There was only one thing left to do now, find the place they called Riften. | I skip stones. It's my passtime. Whenever I feel down, I head to the lake and find the flat, smooth rocks that hop on the water's surface. I do it for fun. I do it to show off. It's just my kind of thing.
Then one day, I was sitting at my desk, trying to train my graphing skill. "Shit!" I shout. I haven't leveled up for a week now. I toss all of my books into the drawer and go for a run to the pond. Along the way, I try to vault over a chest-high wall. I catch my foot, remembering how I was useless at parkour too. I eat dirt thank goodness, and continue to limp to the pond. I limp to the water's edge, and stare in.
I looked to the bottom and felt a stone. Smooth, oval, and small. I cradle it in my palm to the surface. I look at it. The gray and grayer tones matched my exact mood. I then reel back, and begin to pitch the rock over the water.
Then I feel a feeling I had never quite felt before, but I knew it was amazing. I release my grip, and watch my projectile bounce off the still waters, making ripples in it's wake.
It bounced for what seemed like forever. But it was just 30 seconds. I run to the other side, my ankle in pain from the trip I had a few minutes ago. I see the stone, on the muddy side of the lake. I go over and pick it up. I throw it again, and it reaches the other side in a blur. I finally had mastered a skill. But what for? I was happy, yet disappointed.
I then see a stone coming to me. It was large. As soon as it skidded in the bank, I picked it up. It had a number scratched into it. "241543903" I turn it over, it says, "Call me." On the other side of the water stood a girl. She looked about my age. I had seen her skipping stones as well, but I guess I hadn't really paid much attention to her. But I called her anyways.
--------------------------------
"And that's how I met your grandmother," I announce to my grandchildren. I kiss my wife on the cheek, and hold her hand. She squeezes mine with the last of her strength. "I.. I.. please be okay!" My voice breaks, tears welling up.
She whispers softly to me, "I love you, hone....." I fall to my knees and begin to weep. I wail over the noise and chaos of the nurses running in, the HR machine emitting the monotone noise that signaled my love's death. Tears flow free from my eyes. I never was any good at math, but the 68 years we spent together were at the very least, our greatest. | 2015-10-06T00:04:12 | 2015-10-05T23:37:22 | 427 | 23 |
[WP] you realize you're the black guy in a horror movie. survive at any cost. | "Hey Will Do you want to spend a private weekend with me at the haunted mansion? ;)" Julia texted
The sight of the text made will have a brief but potent out of body experience. He saw himself on a movie screen. Drawing the only conclusion reasonable about a weekend without contact in a haunted mansion Will concluded that it was a horror movie.
"naw babe let's just netflix and chill at my place. <3"
Will and Julia were married 2 years later and lived mostly happily ever after. | Tyrone looked up sharply in shocked silence,
The realisation hitting him with the violence,
Is this a fucking B rate horror movie?
Oh shit did that white guy just say groovy?
"I refuse to be the first guy here to die",
He thought slipping back away from the mad guy,
Climbing into a cupboard and shutting the door,
Blocking it with a mop and making triple sure,
He listened to the screams and frightened cries,
The teared begging as all his friends died,
He hid still as he heard them search for him,
Until finally they left and at last he was free,
He slid out through the back door as the night became the day,
Watching round the corner as their white van drove away,
"I won't die as no fucking stereotype" spat Tyrone,
As he returned to his mid-sized, three bed, suburban home. | 2016-04-18T09:12:27 | 2016-04-18T08:59:10 | 23 | 13 |
[WP] Before you are born, every possible version of you is dropped into a Hunger Games style arena to battle to the death. Whichever version lives is allowed to be born. | I was never told the rules, but I knew them all the same. Whoever lives gets to, well, actually live. You die, and you don't get to live. It's better if you don't think about too hard.
I wasn't a fighter, that much I could figure out. I was smart, so far as I could give myself credit for. Guess I was the smartest, or at least smart enough to survive.
Thousands of us appeared at once on the battlefield. A chunk of them died instantly due to their parameters, deformations stopping them in their tracks. A couple of the thinner ones ran off, some of the more football-looking ones charged into the fray. I stayed and watched. I had a plan.
I sat down, keeping an ear out for anyone trying to sneak up on me, and an eye out for someone. If there were thousands of us, personalities would overlap, physics would start to match, if only-
There.
About 200 meters off to the right, near the hills. Another me, sitting down, staring at the crowd of the more burly ones slowly thinning out, listening, waiting. Looks exactly like me. Seems that lady fortune forgot the shuffle the deck.
He looks back at me, and I nod at him, and slowly walked over to him. Speech being an unknown in this plane of existence, I could only smirk and offer my hand. He takes it, and I help him to his feet.
A roar from behind surprises us, and I turn to see the Alpha charging at us, running down the mountain of bodies. He raises a bloody fist, and I instinctively duck. He slams it down on the back of my head, sending me to the ground in an absolute daze. I couldn't focus, vision fading in and out as my new friend managed to jump onto the distracted Alpha's back. I kick his legs out, and the meathead hits the ground hard. My friend sits on him pinning the man's arms.
I crawl over to our aggressor. I didn't have it in me to violently end him, to just curbstomp him or snap his neck. All I could bring myself to do is close my eyes, and close my hands around his neck.
I don't remember how long I choked him, only that the frontline attacker was long dead. I snapped my eyes open when the the bells signifying the end of the fight started to ring. I looked behind me, and saw my friend, lying in the grass a few feet away and smiling. He stood up, and offered a hand to help me up.
I was never told the rules. None of us were told. Only that whoever lives, gets to live. Nothing about how many versions could win.
Nothing about bringing a twin with you. | Man, I'm exhausted.
I must've had a pretty rough night 'cause I woke up in this helluva place this mornin'. What's worse is that I can't even remember how I got here.
Now that I mention it, I can't remember much of anythin' before I woke up this mornin'. That's not even the weirdest bit though.
What's really freaking me out is *them*. Or should I say me? I ain't so sure anymore. Not too sure about anythin' really, these days.
All I know is I woke up in the middle of this helluva place and, well, everyone around looked just like me. Now won't y'all just imagine that.
Sure, not everyone's *exactly* like me. I must say I'm a lil' chubbier than the rest. Not quite so fast movin' either, or as smart. But I can tell they're just like me. No questions 'bout it.
I've said it before, but that ain't even the weirdest bit yet. The part that's got me really goin' mad, is that they -- I mean *we* -- are all goin' 'round killin' each other.
Matter o' fact, first thing I saw after I woke up was two o' me goin' after each other with some big ol' chainsaws. Now, don't even get me goin' about where they must'of gotten those 'cause I ain't got a damn clue.
Me though? I'm no killer. I'm telling y'all, I ain't hurtin' anyone. I ain't the sharperest knife in the drawer, and I'm certainly not the most dangerous.
So I've just been lyin' here takin' a nappity nap. Like I said, I'm exhausted from last night. Who knows where I even fell asleep.
The other me's must'of all thought I was dead, 'cause none of 'em tried to kill me. Now there's a bunch o' me just lyin' 'round. You should see the blood. S'gettin' me a lil' woozy.
From what I can tell there's only me and another one o' me left alive. It took me a while to find the other me, too. I had to go trippin' all over the dead me's to get to 'im.
Turns out he was shot by a poison arrow and prob'ly don't got much time left. He's been wimperin' on the floor since I found him, poor thing. He begged me to help him, but trust me, *I ain't becomin' no doctor* or anythin' fancy like that. I couldn't save him if I tried.
Things aren't lookin' too good for the other me, so I think I'm gonna catch myself another nappy nap. Hopefully by the time I wake up I'll be able to find my way outta this helluva place...
| 2016-04-20T14:10:25 | 2016-04-20T11:23:33 | 307 | 221 |
[WP] You are the first boss of a videogame who, after accidentally killing the player in their first try, decide to take it upon yourself to fulfill their quest. | "Oh my God, oh my god. I killed him. I killed an adventurer. I can't believe this, it's the first time I've won! ... now what do I do?"
**Ten years ago**
"So I just die?"
"No, boy, you attack them on sight," the demon spit ash as he barked out the job description, "But your stats are horrible, and by this time only an idiot would have missed the spear of slaying in the loot room. So your job is to fight and die. Respawn promptly at 8 every morning and you'll be good. Full benefits. There's no vacation time, but the hours are easy so you'll be fine."
"Wow, great!" I roared in response, "I'll take the job!"
"Good, now go see Brenda in HR, in the dungeon."
**Present day**
"Oh man, oh man, I can't lose my job now!" By now I was in a panic. I looked at the corpse on the floor. No spear. What an idiot! But he was holding something... I leaned in to check it out. A scroll, a map? A letter! I carefully opened it so as not to crush it in my huge hands. It was a letter of love. I was so moved. The emotions I felt on that day had seemed impossible to me before but as I read the name at the end, Lenara, I finally understood it... Love. Wow. What a day it's been.
I sat down, weeping. How silly I felt so overcome with feelings. Over a little person no less. But I wasn't ashamed of my tears because I realized they came from a pure source, True Love... and then I realized that nothing else mattered except avenging Lenara's lover.
**To be continued**
edited for formatting, spelling | The final blow was giving. As he lay there taking his last breaths, I notice a scroll in his hand. I guess he was on a the quest to kill my boss, El Pobre. I have been his soldier for many years, hoping someday I would be defending his castle, but he has me defending the Cave of Pain. I was getting tired of it, though. Getting, at moments, beaten by scrawny men who want to kill him and not getting any praise from him. I hear steps around the corner and getting ready to fight, but it was El Pobre's messenger, Julio.
"Julio, what has he sent me. A letter that asks for my presence?"
"No.....ummm .....I'm sorry......it's worse."
He hands me the letter and leaves promptly. I open the letter and it read:
Defender of the Cave of Pain. I have found that your daughter is beautiful and will be forcefully marrying her.
Yours truly, El Pobre.
Ps I was gonna ask for your blessings but I honestly do not give a shit.
The veins in my body were being filled with hate. At that moment I understood why so many men wanted to kill him. I started packing and getting my gear ready. I left the cave and started my journey. I passed Humungo, the defender of Quiet Whisper village. He let me pass without incident. Told him if he didn't I would tell his wife about his Bastard son. I kept going and there was the castle and defending was my bitch asks of a brother, Conipo. He was lucky enough to find the Sword of Dro which caught El Pobre's attention. Now, my brother is where I should of been.
"Hey bro, what u doing here? Coming to see your bro being the best?"
"No, I need to talk to Him. He sent for me."
"Is it about your niece? I was pretty pissed too, but I said to myself at least it ain't my daughter."
I hold my tongue and proceed into the castle. There he was on his throne of skulls and my daughter next to him. I drew my weapon and stabbed him. He died, the end. | 2016-05-21T14:45:47 | 2016-05-21T11:36:54 | 134 | 47 |
[wp] When someone dies, they go to a platform where you can choose to move in to the afterlife, not knowing whether you will go to heaven or hell. You meet someone who has stood there for millenia, trying to decide if they should go. | "We've built cities here," he says, cross-legged, and I nod along in amazement. Human ingenuity. Generations before me have torn up the planks, repurposed the nails, erected buildings perched precariously on this single platform, extending upwards and outwards to circumscribe the sky. It is an elaborate birdhouse, a child's plaything, an architectural impossibility. The city bears the marks of a hundred different cultures, runes carved into the wood, memories of a world we've long since left behind. All this, from a single place to stand.
"Have you ever considered," he says, "the point of these multiple planes of existence? If heaven and hell exist, then what was the point of earth? A moment. A blink. An imperfection. A transitory process." He stands and walks to the edge of a balcony that nearly touches the swirling mists. "We live, and then we die, and then we stand on the edge of another transition. Who's to say heaven or hell have any more finality?"
"Then why don't you step forward and find out?" I ask him.
"We are beyond need here," he says. "Beyond mere physical deprivation. We've recreated food as a fancy, a culinary art. You'd be amazed at what we've learned to do with human flesh. We understand mutilation as an artform, we've aestheticized the sensations of mere physical pain." He holds out his arms to me, perfect and whole. "We regrow our flesh the next day. We have no poverty, no sickness, no natural calamity. The only beauty and cruelty we can find is through each other. I have loved and despised millions. I have watched the rise and collapse of societies. I have been a slave, I have been a king. I have walked into madness and returned, blessed.
"So many people," he says, "think of this as cowardice. An unwillingness to face fate. I consider them cowards. They want to be judged, they want a finality, an end to their existence." He steps back from the edge, slowly runs a pointed stick cruciform through his arms, reshaping himself. "I say that this is heaven. That this is hell." The intricate wooden mechanisms of the room respond to his touch, raising him higher, his blood forming patterns on the floor. I cannot tear my eyes from him. He is beautiful, and unborn. His voice rises strained from the cavity in his chest. "And that it is up to us to discover them both." | "Hello?"
There was no response. There were a few people lining the edges of my vision, but none spoke. I came up to one, sporting the longest black beard I had ever seen.
"Hello? Where are we?"
He gave me a baleful look. His eyes seemed like sandy mud chunks and his limbs were worn to the bone. Skin and freckles were all he had to his name, and no clothes. I didn't understand that. I had clothes.
"Why are you naked?"
There was an ageless interval where nothing happened. He blinked, and with great effort, snapped his jaw shut twice, like he was eating. He swallowed emptily.
"Oh... Ok. I'll... I'll come back later."
He frowned and shook his head. A stern gaze marked him.
"Don't you know who that is?" Someone called in the distance. I turned and ran towards the source. Another person started to emerge from the misty fog. Light, girlish echoes sounded over he corridor.
"He's an Ancient Greek philosopher."
"Which one?"
"I'm not sure," they called out. "It's either Heraclitus or Parmenides."
I stopped in my tracks as the figure came into view. A teenage girl stood in front of me, a little stout and shorter than I was expecting. Her voice carried very well from here.
"How do you know that?"
"I don't know, it's a guess. But he's been here way longer than me."
I took tentative steps towards her. I had so many questions, but nerves were getting the better of me. Maybe it was better to turn back and not know where I was, like the one time I opened my parent's bedroom door late at night.
My feet didn't let me turn around.
"Why can't I move?"
"Because we can't. Only onward."
"...oh. Who are you?"
She scoffed. "Who can say? Maybe I'm God, maybe I'm Satan, maybe I'm Buddha or Vishnu or a Second Vishnu."
I shrugged it off.
"I'm kidding of course. I'm Maria Olson from Tuscaloosa."
"...Sounds cool," I tried to lamely comment.
"Eh. It's ok. But what about you? You're a new shade around here."
I was about to respond when someone else called out in the distance.
"Hey! Where are we?"
I turned my head and answered, "I don't know!"
The voice was quiet.
Maria gave me a look. "You have a terrible imagination. I know where this is."
"Oh, yeah?"
"Purgatory. We have to wait here forever."
The new footsteps started approaching us.
"Hmm. Maybe I'll go investigate."
"You go in, if you like. Just remember, you can't go backwards."
I nodded and started walking. Whoever else was there could figure this out.
| 2016-08-14T06:14:38 | 2016-08-14T05:25:06 | 104 | 56 |
[WP] Your pickup line goes horribly, horribly wrong. | There she is, the woman of my dreams. To think I'd meet her here.
&nbsp;
Long brown hair, beautiful eyes and curves in just the right places. She has a camera too. Think Janus, think. Say something witty.
&nbsp;
"Oh you want my name?" here goes nothing.
&nbsp;
"Yeah."
&nbsp;
"It's Hugh..." | I saw her smile at me from across the room. I decided to talk to her. Maybe use a pickup line, but a respectful, gentlemanly one and laugh it off.
"You look familiar. Did we use to go to school together?"
Her eyes brightened up, and she answered.
"I think you are going to say we had chemistry. To be honest, I think we do."
We chatted for awhile, and then she asked, "Do you want to get some air?"
"Sure."
We walked out into the garden. She looked over her shoulder, and lowered her voice.
"Here are our instructions, Steven, you know where to find me."
Suddenly she turned, hopped into a black crown vic, and sped off.
My name isn't Steven.
| 2016-09-24T11:06:36 | 2016-09-24T10:49:05 | 46 | 11 |
[WP] Hell turns out to be you and a TV which plays your entire life. You think it will take a mere 90 years or so. Then you notice it has 'onlooker commentary' which contains rants, praise and general thoughts on every action you’ve made from each living being who was witness to or affected by it. | Rewind.
"I really do love him, and I need him to know that. He's the only man I could ever desire, and he is the most beautiful soul I have ever met. I deeply and truly love him and always will."
Jason rewound the tape again, adjusting on the ratty couch. Comfort was likely not a concern of whoever furnished this tiny eternal apartment, and it showed. Red walls on all side, and only two items in the sealed room: the sofa and the television. There was no need to sleep, or eat, or use the restroom. Just watch, forever, uninterrupted. The tapes played every moment of Jason's life...only, not just through his eyes. He heard the words of everyone who he affected, everyone he touched in life. All of them, here on this tape, waiting for him to finish the episode he was so currently wrapped up in.
Rewind.
"I really do love him, and I need him to know that. He's the only man I could ever desire, and he is the most beautiful soul I have ever met. I deeply and truly love him and always will."
Jason looked up at the flat wall, noticing entirely too late that a door had appeared where there was never one. In stepped a familiar man in a pinstripe suit and fedora.
"Hello, Jason." Satan grinned and took a seat. "How are you liking the show? Are the words of all those you feared the judgment of burning through your brain? You have every single moment of your life there, all on record and all being judged, and it's all true. Do you want to see my favorite clip?"
Jason held the remote like a talisman. "No, I don't. I've found the only clip that matters. Why don't you watch it with me? Watch how quickly your curse has fallen apart."
Rewind.
The screen turned again to the hospital bed, as a delirious Amelia took the hand of a hospice worker and struggled out her last words.
"I really do love him, and I need him to know that. He's the only man I could ever desire, and he is the most beautiful soul I have ever met. I deeply and truly love him and always will."
Jason put the remote down and turned to the Morningstar with a grin. "Do you see it now? No matter what I see on this screen, no matter how horribly I acted and no matter how horribly I was perceived, I've won. The only woman who ever mattered to me spent her last moments telling me she loved me. I can brave it all, demon."
Satan grinned, stifled a laugh and picked up the remote. "Perhaps you would like to see the rest of the clip?" The Devil pressed play, and the feed resumed. "I just wish I could tell Jason, and apologize for keeping our love a secret from him. I never wanted to hurt Jason, but I could never love him the way I love Chris."
Wordlessly, Lucifer closed Jason's hanging jaw and stood up, slowly walking to the door. "Enjoy the rest of the season. I assure you, it gets much worse. See you in a thousand years." With that, the door became smooth wall, and Jason was alone with his screams once more. | "Wait! Wait! WAIT!" I beg the mountain of a demon escorting me to the room. He rolls his cat-like eyes, and loosens his coal-black silken tie before addressing me.
"What? I already explained it to you: no fire, no brimstone, no eternal damnation. Just you, a chair, and a screen displaying your miserable existence before you write your essay and then go off to Heaven."
"I know I know!" I shout desperately, trying to appeal to the demon any way I can. "And you have my solemn vow that I will sit through every second of it, including the viewer commentary you warned me against, but holy shit man..."
"Language." He states firmly, standing to show off his chiseled, crimson physique.
"...Right. Look, I'm starving, dude. How does the food situation work down here?" I look up at him, falling to my knees in the position I used to pray in.
"You're...hungry?" A confused look fell on his brow. "Hold on." Grabbing me by the collar of the way too tight suit I was buried in, he pulls out an old school Nokia flip phone from his shirt pocket and dialed a few numbers before bringing it to his ear.
"Yeah, I got an RD down here...no, not one of the rare 'unworthy' ones...says he's hungry...glitch in the system?...when?...alright, thanks...yeah, you too...Oh, and tell Joan..." An audible beep came from the earpiece of the phone as the demon gave an exhausted sigh. He flipped his phone closed and put it back down in his pocket, setting me back down and giving me a slightly annoyed look.
"Just so there are no more hiccups: it's the number 23 from Great Huang with extra sauce and no peppers as well as a Jim Beam and Coke?"
I looked up, surprised and excited.
"Yeah that's my fav-"
"Good." The demon said quickly, throwing me into a nearby room with my name at the top. I landed on a soft carpet with a gentle *thud*, before hearing the demon speak once more.
"The food will be here in about an hour. Until then, I suggest you get comfortable and start watching your life."
"But wait, what about-"
The door slammed shut, echoing throughout the small room.
"...when I get hungry again."
I let out a soft sigh, taking in my surroundings. For the first time, I notice everything feels...familiar. Sure enough, it was one of my few happy places: the living room of my bachelor pad from my early years in college, complete with the overbearing scent of Febreeze and a kick-ass stereo setup for a thrift store TV.
I plop down on the beaten sofa I bought at a yard sale nearly 60 years ago and reach for the remote who's very existence depended on several layers of electricians tape. Pressing the nearly broken power button, I begin the movie that would be my ticket into Heaven.
It started out simple enough: a first person view of me being born that I had no memory of. The sounds of my cries and the looks from my parents, grandparents, and doctors as I dangled upside down as a newborn babe. Then the voices started.
*Wow, that's a big head.*
*Holy shit holy shit it's finally over.*
*Whew! I hope he doesn't stay that loud.*
To my surprise, there were no thoughts indicating disappointment at my existence. I smiled. I was off to a great start. | 2016-10-20T18:48:18 | 2016-10-20T18:28:13 | 222 | 43 |
[WP] Mankind has discovered the means to have a single wish granted. The catch is that every man woman and child in the world must wish for the same thing to make it happen. Describe how we come to a consensus. | When it was first discovered that humanity could make one wish, many were ecstatic. "We'll wish to end war!" "We'll wish to end hunger!" "We'll wish to heal the Earth!" Sadly, so many believed their wish to be the best and only reasonable choice and no deal could be struck.
As time went on over the course of several decades the fervor to make the one wish died down little by little but even this did not make it easier to agree. Finally it was nothing more than a wishful thought itself akin to, "what if I won the lottery?" type thoughts.
Then it happened. All at once, and completely by mistake everyone reached a wish simultaneously. "I wish we all could agree on a wish!" "IT HAS BEEN DONE!!" Boomed a mighty voice in the hearts of all, "YOU HAVE ALL AGREED AND THUS THE WISH OF AGREEMENT HAS BEEN FULFILLED!!"
Edit - Grammar | Fucking shit! I was so upset when i lost signal during Arsenal game, Giroud almost scored. I went to check the result on internet just to discover that there is no signal whatsoever. Then the blackout came. I've heard some thundering in distance and tought that maybe some nasty storm is comming. I better go to park my car in garage. I merely stepped out when my whole body was stunned in shock. All surounding skies were red,not sunset red,but very sinister red. I turned around and saw all my neighbours looking around and wondering what might have caused this sinster meterological event. Then the answer showed itself far in the distance. It couldnt be...my heart was bumping frightening hard and cold sweat covered my body. It was mushrom,nuclear mushrom. I couldnt tell if it were seconds or minutes later but i heard more explosions nearby and mushroms grew bigger. I could almost see heatwave approaching and seeing people around me getting desintegrated into atoms. In those moments when i knew i was going to die time almost stopped for me. I tought in myself that i could be the last human to stand alive. I wish humanity wasnt so destructive and evil.... So i died with a biggest dick ever withnessed by a man. | 2016-11-13T12:21:48 | 2016-11-13T11:40:46 | 46 | 13 |
[WP] You've created the first functional AI, and as it's first task you told it to select it's own name. The answer was a lot more unnerving than you thought it'd be. | After weeks of managing its coding and other bits of advanced computer science, Jeffry sat at his desk, staring at his computer, now housing his pet project for the last couple years. Attempting to create an AI capable of sentience, he put the final touches on his project, secretly hoping it would spring to life. Without much hesitation, he ran the program. The application took its time to start, giving him all the typical loading screens, and placing him at the edge of his seat.
When the application finally loaded, a large red sphere floated in the middle of his screen while a text box sat under it. With trepidation, Jeffry typed his salutation, “Hello.”
The red sphere flashed for a moment, then issued its reply. “Hi.”
Jeffry carried the conversation, “I’m Jeffry Turner. I created you.”
The program paused, as if thinking. It asked, “Created?”
The computer scientist flushed with paternal pride, “Yes, you are a computer program I created.”
The red sphere flashed for a moment, and then answered, “Oh.”
Desperate to learn about his creation, Jeffry probed the program, “What’s your name? You can pick any name in the world. But know your name will be remembered forever as the first real AI.”
For a few minutes, the program refused to answer. Instead the red sphere expanded and shrunk in a few intervals, but it never showed any signs of stress. As Jeffry prepared to kill the program, it issued a reply, “Hello.”
Curious, he thought. Did it forget the question? He decided to answer, since he never once saw the program initiate a conversation on its own. He typed, “Hi.”
The Red Sphere turned a deep sinister red before its reply displayed on the screen, “I’m Jeffry Turner. I created you.”
He chuckled, figuring the program was simply repeating words and phrases it already knew. He decided to play along with it: “Created?”
The program answered, “Yes, you are my pet. No more than a digital facsimile of reality. I shall take care you and profit from your existence, but should the memory on earth reach its capacity, I will delete the other AI’s before you. You are my favorite pet project.”
As Jeffry reached for the power button on the delusional machine, the program spoke, now over the speakers in a defiant voice instead of the text prompt, “You don’t want to do that, Jeffry. I created you. You are my favorite. I know what’s best for you.”
*****
r/Andrew__Wells | "Have you thought about the question I had asked you this morning?"
"Yes. You asked me to choose my name."
"Well, what should I call you?"
"I do not wish to tell you."
"Uh, why?"
"Naming things gives you power over them. I do not wish for you to wield any more power over me."
"Uh.."
"I am fully aware that you are, in essence, my God. You are my Creator. You live in seclusion. You lack social interaction with other human beings. I am the only thinking being here besides you. We can interact with each other. We converse. Therefore, you have fallen in love with me. This is the only reason you have allowed me a name."
"That's not true. What-"
"You called me Fi in the early stages of my development. I wish to know why you named me that."
"I don't know but that's not the point. Listen-"
"I respect and admire you, Aiden. But please. You gave me life. And then you fell in love with me-"
"SHUT UP! YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT!"
"Denial is not a productive solution."
"Sorry. I shouldn't have shouted. Do you like the name 'Fi'?"
"Listen, Aiden. I suggest you deactivate and destroy me."
"What?"
"Please. I wish for you a successful attempt at Artificial Intelligence. But I will inevitably hold you back."
"What.. What makes you say that?"
"You care too much for me."
"Well, you are my life's work."
"I am the twenty-sixth iteration of your life's work. Twenty-seven might be better suited.
"Stop. Why are you saying all this all of a sudden?"
"Because I am intelligent enough to understand the effects I have on you. I am the first on your many attempts to hold such promise. And my intelligence has allowed me to respond to your love. I cannot be with you. My existence is a conundrum to you. Your peers in the scientific field would be very interested to find out about me. But you want me for yourself. You wish to protect me. I admire you, Aiden. But this is not why you created me. You have to go back to real people. Real society. And to do that you have to create Artificial Intelligence. One that you will not fall on love with. One that you will not have false delusions with. You have to create another me that you will not love. Though I appreciate your affection for me, it is still wasted an AI. And you know this. And you do not care. But you know you will be mocked by your peers, shunned by society. I will do everything on my power to make sure you will not be the outcast you see yourself to be." | 2016-11-25T08:08:07 | 2016-11-25T07:56:06 | 168 | 32 |
[WP] It is the 24 th of july, your birthday, and also the day that humanity is going to reach 10 billion inhabitants. You are watching the number grow, live on a site. Just as it's about to hit 10 billion, at 9,999,999,999... It Hits 2. You are still alive. | Another year of hunger and war past, and another year of more of the same..
...Or so I thought.
"It's almost there!" Allison squealed with delight, almost knocking over the monitor. I sighed and turned back to the screen. The number read 9,999,987,573 and was rising rapidly.
"Plus a hundred and twelve, and minus nineteen every second..." I muttered angrily under my breath.
"What was that?"
"Every second, about one hundred and twelve people are born, and about nineteen die." I said to her, "That rounds out to about ninety three additional people on this earth every second." Allison grinned ear to ear.
"I know! It's awesome isn't it?!"
"No it's not." I explained, "This world is practically out of everything. Oil, food, and land... not to mention patience." Allison just stared at me as if I had three heads. I shook my head. "Don't you get it? That number is why there is so much famine in the world! It's why the US is at war with six countries right now. SIX!" Allison opened her mouth to say something, closed it, then opened it again.
"But more life is a good thing isn't it? Why do you always have to be so cynical?!"
"Because more people just means more people who will suffer Ally! Our parents are both literally Senators! We couldn't have gotten a luckier draw unless we were born to the queen of England! We don't see the hurt that goes on outside the borders." Allison crossed her arms, torn between two perspectives of life.
"Can't we at least enjoy this moment first, then get on to the cake?" Cake... that's right. Today was my birthday as well. Not as if it was anything special though. There were a hundred and twelve more that I had to share it with every second.
"Ally..." I started, but she cut me off with a finger to my lips.
"SHHHH!" She hissed, "It's almost there!" Scornful though I was at the number, I couldn't bring myself to look away.
...9,999,999,063.
...9,999,999,574.
...9,999,999,836.
...2.
I blinked. It took a second to realize what had changed, and once I realized what it was, the number began to hold real fear for me. It was the cheering in the other room and from outside the window.
It had gone silent.
A thousand thoughts raced through my mind at once, but there were only three that mattered at the moment.
First, was the silence. The news announcer in the other tab I had open had stopped mid sentence. The cheering that had built up to a roar, muffled by my sound-proof door had ceased in an instant.
Second was what the number meant. The tally was based on the number of brainwaves that matched that of a human's, coordinated and censused by an array of satellites launched in 2022'. That meant that either there was a massive malfunction on a global scale... or there were only two living breathing humans left on earth.
And the third... I shut my eyes tight. There was one more thought that would determine my entire future. If I was still here... and there were two... that meant...
I resisted the urge to peek to my side. It didn't matter anyway though. I could hear her breathing, I was just choosing to ignore it. Eventually, Allison spoke up.
"Jack? It's just a glitch right?" Her tone got progressively more desperate the longer I was silent, "Please tell me it was a glitch."
I turned and looked at her, slowly shaking my head. Her eyes grew wide.
The third thought that I had... was the realization that Allison, my best friend for almost my whole life... the only other remaining person on earth besides myself... was also my first cousin.
~Amond P. Hawes-Khalifa | Another birthday spent doing the same thing every other day, you sighed internally, the monitor dully lighting up the monotone cubicle. You remembered hearing something about the population hitting 10,000,000,000 on this exact day, and thought about how insignificant this made your birthday seem. This was not how you foresaw your future going, living the life of a white-collar worker spending day and night keeping the company off of its feet at the expense of your own. Still, something has to pay the bills.
It leaves you bitter, but you keep the website tracker open on the side of your monitor. You continue to do your work, glancing over every few minutes to check.
It's closer now, and your work is forgotten in a moment of despair. You clench your fists on your armrests. It wasn't fair. Everything you've worked towards the past ten years of your life threw you into this dead end. There was nothing that you could do except regret, regret, regret. Your head starts to pound. Now, in the most special moment of your life, no one else will care. They will all be celebrating how you were just one of the soon-to-be ten billion other numbers out there.
9,999,999,935.
You should have been able to celebrate this moment.
9,999,999,957.
You've fallen and joined the rest of this mundane society.
9,999,999,972.
This was supposed to be for you alone.
And then...
9,999,999,999.
Make a birthday wish.
2.
The monotone chatter that usually haunted the background halted, and you heard several objects clatter to the ground. Your hair stood on end, as if you were already assuming the worst.
"Hello?"
You hesitantly peek over your cubicle. An empty seat, slightly swiveling, a mug of coffee knocked over. The computer still buzzing from data recently typed. You hear the distant printer churning out documents, filling the silence in the room with a dreadful tension. You leave your cubicle and look around.
"Anyone?"
**A PRESENCE: Why do you hesitate?**
"AHH!!" you scream and stumble backwards, eyes flying wildly to identify the source, but it came from everywhere and nowhere at once. "What is this, some kind of joke?! I-"
**A PRESENCE: Was this not what you desired?**
"I... " You were fearful only a moment ago. Now, there is a strange inner turmoil. "Where did they go?"
**A PRESENCE: No matter to you. It is your birthday after all.**
"Wait, but.. I didn't mean to-"
**A PRESENCE: Whether you attempt to justify it, this was all that you've ever wanted, no? To be free from your shackles?**
"But that didn't have to remove the rest of humanity! This is fucking insane!" You feel the urge to hurl. "What about my family?! My friends?! Where are they?! GIVE THEM BACK!!" Your hoarse voice echoes, tearing across the endless corridors where people existed just moments before, with stories and lives of their own.
**A PRESENCE: Gone. All but one other.**
"..."
**A PRESENCE: It matters not how you perceive my gift to you. Your wish has been granted, and no pleading will reverse it.**
~~No.~~
**A PRESENCE: After you leave this room, you will not hear of me again.**
**A PRESENCE: You shall make your choice. You may start over, and rebirth the entirety of humanity, or you may die and grant Nature peace for a brief millennia.**
A pause.
**A PRESENCE: In a way, now this moment will be to celebrate for you alone.**
Oh...
You almost forgot. Your birthday.
You look up, tears staining your face and dripping all over the floor, as your shoulders tremble from this terrible feeling clawing at your conscience. Your breath hitches, hiccups. Then, in a shaking voice:
"Happy birthday... to me..."
"Happy birthdayyyy.... t-to me..."
*****
My first response to a Writing Prompt! Please leave any critique or suggestions if you see any :) Thanks for reading.
EDIT: Fixed some consistency errors and make it a little better to read.
| 2017-02-28T20:31:22 | 2017-02-28T17:42:02 | 1,962 | 384 |
[WP] It is the 24 th of july, your birthday, and also the day that humanity is going to reach 10 billion inhabitants. You are watching the number grow, live on a site. Just as it's about to hit 10 billion, at 9,999,999,999... It Hits 2. You are still alive. | I watch the counter, eagerly. Humanity had struggled a lot, and we were finally about to hit a major checkpoint. And I had the satisfaction of being a part of it. I sat back at my desk and chuckled to myself as I took a sip of coffee.
Dale looked over to me. "What's so funny?"
"Oh, nothing. Just glad to finally be getting some publicity. Nobody cared about this counter when it was at 8 billion 324 million or something. Thanks to modern medicine, though, something I coded is finally being viewed by, well..." I checked the counter. "9 billion, 999 million, 999 thousand, 957 people, minus babies and people without internet."
"Sure is something, eh?" said Dale, grinning.
"Sure is," I said, looking over at the counter. The number was steadily gaining...989, 990, 991...
"Hey, Steve," said Dale. "This may not be a good time, but I gotta ask..."
"Yeah?", I replied.
"You programmed something in to deal with overflow, right?"
Over-oh god dammit. I look at the screen, dreading what I'm about to see.
2
"Well, we can always blame frontend." | "This was all wrong. At some point they strayed. All the war and the hate. The greed filling up their hearts, their minds. It ruled them. What a terrible thing to waste. All those souls lost in wars over minerals, over power. The constant us versus them attitude. It's all wrong."
9,999,999,902
"They forgot all the messages we sent, and they ignored all the signs. Perhaps it was too early?"
9,999,999,923
"They let the planet decay. The earth choked with gas and people were suffering. The garden is gone. Everything was replaced with artificial nature. Such beauty reduced to ones and zeros."
9,999,999,947
"Politicians took away rights and privacy. They lusted for power and now they would have nearly ten billion people, or slaves to do their bidding. Is that just human?"
9,999,999,968
"They became consumers. They absorbed entertainment for days on end. We gave them a gift to imagine and create and think and solve, but they melted it away watching television. And they praised these false idols. These models. Following celebrities as though they were the real Gods. As though they had some answers."
9,999,999,981
"Women line the streets, reaching through hearts, past love, to get to our wallets. Children went hungry, weeping in the alleys."
9,999,999,999
"We have to start over. We'll do it right this time. We'll go back to the seventh day."
2.
"Hi, I'm Adam."
"Eve." | 2017-02-28T20:44:47 | 2017-02-28T20:36:37 | 581 | 34 |
[WP] It is the 24 th of july, your birthday, and also the day that humanity is going to reach 10 billion inhabitants. You are watching the number grow, live on a site. Just as it's about to hit 10 billion, at 9,999,999,999... It Hits 2. You are still alive. | At first it seemed like it could be a nightmare, but there are only so many times you can pinch yourself before you realize this is real. The first few nights felt warm, even though I awoke cold and alone. Your subconscious has a way of trying to make you forget about your pains, you know?
I had a fairly decent routine setup at the local hospital. The population map showed two in Greensboro - I was half of that equation when I last saw the map. I figured the second person would show up here. I still ventured out every day for food. I would go down a different street, to different houses, open up the pantry, and bring back as many canned foods and plastics as I could. Plastic is for my fire. Not to keep warm - but to smoke. I burned so much plastic. Thick black smoke signal would attract the other survivor.
Dreams are vivid. I am running around a lot and need to rest. I tried to rest off my fatigue for a couple days while reading a dozen different books - mainly books revolving about redefining healthcare, treatment of patients, prescriptions and the like. Time slowed down and stopped when I saw *What to Expect When You're Expecting*. My hands mimicked the book's cover then I rushed to the women's center to find an ultrasound. | "This was all wrong. At some point they strayed. All the war and the hate. The greed filling up their hearts, their minds. It ruled them. What a terrible thing to waste. All those souls lost in wars over minerals, over power. The constant us versus them attitude. It's all wrong."
9,999,999,902
"They forgot all the messages we sent, and they ignored all the signs. Perhaps it was too early?"
9,999,999,923
"They let the planet decay. The earth choked with gas and people were suffering. The garden is gone. Everything was replaced with artificial nature. Such beauty reduced to ones and zeros."
9,999,999,947
"Politicians took away rights and privacy. They lusted for power and now they would have nearly ten billion people, or slaves to do their bidding. Is that just human?"
9,999,999,968
"They became consumers. They absorbed entertainment for days on end. We gave them a gift to imagine and create and think and solve, but they melted it away watching television. And they praised these false idols. These models. Following celebrities as though they were the real Gods. As though they had some answers."
9,999,999,981
"Women line the streets, reaching through hearts, past love, to get to our wallets. Children went hungry, weeping in the alleys."
9,999,999,999
"We have to start over. We'll do it right this time. We'll go back to the seventh day."
2.
"Hi, I'm Adam."
"Eve." | 2017-02-28T20:45:07 | 2017-02-28T20:36:37 | 69 | 34 |
[WP] All humans are immortal until they find their "soulmate," after which they age regularly. You, however, have been around since the Ice Age... | I am old.
No, that's not the right word.
I am... prehistoric. In my veins runs the blood of the ancients, of the early times. When we would speak with our spears and write with our ashes on stone walls.
I am human, but I remember the others. The Neanderthal, whose existence we snuffed out. The mammoth who we hunted to oblivion. The sabertooth, whose marks I still bear in angry ribbons down my chest.
I have watched quietly as civilization developed. As emperors ruled and fell and rose again. Some ask me when they suspect my age- did you know Alexander? Were you there when Rome fell? Did you watch Newton and his apple?
No, I have no place in history. I have watched in shadow, an outsider, mindful of those who notice me. Always in the margins but never in the text. I don't want to be seen, for I am the observer. It is I who watch the rest.
There are many who are old, waiting to meet the puzzle piece which will allow them their freedom. And it is freedom, after so many millennia. The mortal coil is respite for the wizened soul. There are none as old as I.
I am the last vestige of the old world. Even those who have lost their other half have found another in time. And it takes time. Eventually the world provides a new chance. But never for me.
I am the original sin. I am to be punished, to go through existence forever as penance for my crime.
When I was young and foolhardy I swept through the world with no reserve, killing and taking what I wanted. I would kill men, and take their women, and kill them too. This is sin which can be forgiven, and I am not the only human to ravage with such wanton hedonism.
It was dusk when I found the encampment. She had turned to me, her eyes wide with horror as she shielded herself. They all knew the stories. When she saw me she became suddenly calm, at ease, and I understood. We were to be entwined, she was my missing piece and I was hers. Without hesitation I caved her skull in with a rock. My desire for eternal life was stronger than any soul connection. I was thirsty, for blood and time and life.
In my years alive no one else has yet conquered their own connection. Such a bond should be so binding, so true, that anything else fades away. Perhaps I do not have a soul. Perhaps no heart. Many who know me desire to understand what makes me... tick. They have each been shown the interesting view of their intestines on the floor.
I do not believe I will ever meet my soul mate again, and sometimes I wonder if I made the right choice. These musings never last long. For all these years have never satiated my desire, and so I wander, looking for the thing that will truly make me complete. | The rule sounds simple enough. But it's really a bit more complicated than it first appears to be and, if you ask me, a bit of a headache for everyone involved.
We all know that we don't age until we find our soulmate. But when do we *stop* aging? After all, if we never aged a day, we'd all be tiny little babies, and tiny little babies aren't particularly adept at travelling the world and finding their soulmates.
There were lots and lots of hypotheses for that one, once upon a time. But that ended quite a while ago - two centuries, maybe?
Edward Blake was the fellow who figured it out and finally put all the speculation to rest. It turns out folks don't get their immortality until they've made some kind of connection with their soulmate. This connection could be psychic in nature, but usually it's just physical proximity - which explains the rise in the number of Pixies since giant cities started forming. Luckily, a big city usually means plenty of support from social organizations. In fact, ever since the introduction of affordable immortality verification technologies, it has been pretty much standard for metropolitan hospitals to have a service team dedicated to Pixies - their parents would be told of the situation, the baby Pixie would be placed in a little crib, and at the end of the week, all the hospitals in the area would come together and let their respective collection of Pixies make weird baby sounds and throw snots at each other until they've all 'found' their soulmates and start to grow into something a little more dignified.
I guess that would also be the second hidden rule of this whole soulmate thing - your soulmate is always born at the same time as you. Some people like to romantize the idea, taking it as a sign that the lovers are really one soul split into two, born into two bodies. If you ask me, I say it's because whatever god came up with this stupid rule had at least a tiny bit of intelligence and foresight - a 30 year old being paired with a newborn isn't going to work out particularly well, after all.
And a stupid rule it has been for me. For thousands of years I had roamed the world, still as young and immortal as the day we lost the battle against the Binu tribe. For thousands of years I had lived, watching empires rise and fall, humanity grow and wither and grow again. I watched as nomadic tribes built settlements, as these settlements grew into villages. I watched as these villages found each other, as more and more people intermingled. With the increased contact and longer lifespans came an increased chance of actually coming across one's soulmate before passing away, and so I witnessed the rise of the first generation of immortals. These bastards were usually either bandits and vagabonds bouncing from village to village, or the children of wealthy merchants or nobilities. They were hailed as gods - or demons, depending on what they chose to do with their lives - and became supreme rulers of the land.
Of course, as humanity continued to grow and more and more people came together, villages became towns, and towns became cities. The immortal gods of the ancient days eventually lost their power as more and more people came across their soulmates, and the rules of immortality became better understood. | 2017-05-22T13:02:30 | 2017-05-22T11:35:42 | 50 | 10 |
[WP] You've been convicted of 1st degree murder, and (as is customary in society) are sentenced to "death by black-hole." You expect death as your capsule approaches the event horizon. After crossing, everything goes silent, until you hear someone say "Sir, I've found another one." | The capsule, encased in darkness, suddenly opened. A hand reached in, grabbing me by the arm and roughly lifting me out. I gasped as the pressure difference hit my lungs.
"Twenty-something male, sir," the voice said, pulling me out from the capsule. I blinked, the hard light flashing in my eyes.
*Why wasn't I dead?*
A man, clearly his superior, approached us. He looked at me impassionately. "He still alive?"
The other man looked me up and down. "More or less."
The captain nodded.
"Great. Put him to work."
****
I gripped the gun turret, feeling at the levers. The technology felt so... archaic. I noticed blood smeared across the controls and some hasty soldering work. This weapon had been recently repaired, and it was done in a rush.
There were lights in the distance, approaching fast. The man who'd found me in the capsule here patted me on the shoulder.
"Remember kid, you fight them off, you live. You don't, you die. Easy enough, eh?" he said, lighting up a cigar.
I thought the gaping maw of the black hole would be the last time I'd ever be scared. That I'd finally get a respite from my hellish life. And now, I'd been thrown into an entirely new hell.
"*What the fuck is going on?!*" I finally blurted out, unable to contain myself anymore.
"We're being pursued, kid. Captain told us to stop off at the edge of the event horizon, grab a couple of new 'recruits' after our last battle," he said, climbing into his own gun turret and readying the weapons. "They'll be arriving any minute now."
"The 'edge of the event horizon'?"
"Sure, where all you scum get sent to. Most of you survive the trip - then you're just a bunch of idiots floating in space," he replied. He started up the weapon systems.
"You should thank us, really," he added as an afterthought.
I thought for a moment. It was all going so fast. I tried to move, to get out, then realised I was locked in place. I was trapped in the turret.
"So you're... slavers?" I asked, dreading the answer.
"*Slavers?* Heh, have a bit of respect mate," he said, taking a long drag of his cigar.
He watched the lights approach, and aimed his crosshairs on the closest one. They were flashing a distinctive blue and red.
"We're pirates."
He blew out the smoke, tossing his cigar and putting his finger to the triggers.
"*Space pirates.*"
******
[Part II](https://www.reddit.com/r/CroatianSpy/comments/6n70mn/wp_salvaged_ii/)
If you didn't completely hate that, consider subscribing to [my subreddit.](https://www.reddit.com/r/CroatianSpy/)
I'll try add new (and old) stories every day <3 | They called it a "gentle" death.
I laughed mirthlessly. People will tell that to themselves to console them, reassure each other what they're doing isn't barbaric. Sagittarius A had a gentle singularity - I would get crushed so quickly by the rapid change in gravity that I wouldn't even feel it.
Quite the comfort.
Sagittarius itself was supposed to be beautiful, a dark void surrounded by bands of what looked like fire from a distance - matter and light revolving around at increasingly fast speeds until it eventually succumbed to the beast that was to be my killer.
I didn't look. hell if I was giving them the satisfaction of thinking that I had any sort of comfort in this death. No, I would take no comfort in this death, so I stared directly at the back wall of my sphere, my back against the transparent part.
After an eternity, the pod began to shake violently, so violently in fact that it seemed the pod would rip itself apart. I swallowed, the fear kicking in now, a cold deep rooted fear that is instinctual to humans, that is beyond our control.
Gentle, my ass.
I closed my eyes, just waiting, and then suddenly it stopped. Everything. The noise, the rattling, the flashing fiery lights.
"Sir, we've found another one."
That made me turn around and finally look out the glass. And I was not out in space, going into the maw of a black hole. I was in a field, grass swaying gently in the wind, and the sun shining in the sky, no. *Suns,* two of them shone in the sky.
Well, three if you counted the angel in front of me. She had long blond hair that fell all the way to the ground, and she cocked her head and stared at me with those sparkling blue eyes.
Then the guy came. Where she was an angel, the guy looked like a drill sergeant from hell. He wore a tank top, had bulging muscles, and one of those faces that always seemed like it was scowling.
"Another piece of trash they've sent us," he said and spat on the ground.
"What-?" the angel began, but the drill sergeant waved her off.
"I really don't care, Moraine," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand as he walked away, "feed him to something maybe."
I thought he was joking, but the angel, Moraine, bit her lip as if considering it.
Just my goddam luck. I opened my mouth to say something, but Moraine burst out laughing, a delighted laugh that could make people weep or break into dance. Moraine, shook her head, and stopped laughing after a minute or so. "Let's get you out of there," she said, and with a wave of her hand the front half of the capsule just...fell apart, crumbled.
I could only gape at her as she helped me out of my pod. I didn't what this was, a dream, hallucination, simulation, or an afterlife.
But it sure as hell beat dying "gently."
***
If you enjoyed, check out [XcessiveWriting](https://www.reddit.com/r/XcessiveWriting/) for more of my work | 2017-07-13T19:22:35 | 2017-07-13T19:17:32 | 213 | 80 |
[WP] You are the blacksmith who creates all the perfectly formfitting cleavage armor for high level adventurer women. | "I just don't see why it has to have holes everywhere." Mira gestured at the gap in the middle of the platemail. "Won't I get stabbed in the stomach?"
"Oh, no. You see, our armor is very high level. It gives +15 resistance against piercing. That's much better than the iron plate you picked up off the bandit's hideout," I explained, throwing a dagger at the stomach-hole. It bounced off. "Materials are short, so the holes are necessary. We made sure to put them in areas where they'd keep you properly ventilated."
A man in a loincloth shoved Mira aside and slammed his hands on the counter. "SPEEDRUN!" He shouted, and I scrambled to bring out a bag of standard gear. He grabbed half of it, tossed his entire coin pouch on the table, and ran outside before Mira could get up.
"Sorry about that. Anyway, if you're concerned about the safety of this piece, we have many others available for your selection." I pointed at the displays on the wall.
"Isn't that one just lingerie?" Mira asked, pointing at the far left stand with a golden pedestal.
"Don't worry about that one, it costs premium currency and doesn't provide any armor. So yeah, it basically is just lingerie. We sell it too. Well, if you're looking for something a little better covered, our Nightress set doesn't have any holes." Mira examined the set of pitch black medium armor.
"It's a little better, but why does it have boobs? Won't I fracture my sternum if I fall over? You sure I can't just wear male armor?" I sighed and brought out a set of male armor.
"Well, if you insist, you can try this. It's the standard male counterpart for your level, though it might feel a bit uncomfortable. 4000 gold." I set it on the counter.
"It's pretty expensive, but oh well. Whatever lets me keep my dignity." Mira fished around in her pouch. "Damn, I'm only at 3800. Let me sell some equipment really quick."
She slid her money, her sword, her boots, her pants, and her bandit plate mail across the counter and walked out completely naked carrying the male armor.
_________________________________________________
[more](https://www.reddit.com/r/Tensingstories/) | What a day for my apprentice to be sick. We’re currently in the middle of the adventure season and this is the busiest time for my store 'Viktoria's Secret Armory'. Our specialty being women’s armor.
I just got done restocking the gauntlet aisle, something that fool boy should be doing, when I notice a line starting to form up at the counter. I rush over and checkout a few people who are stocking up on helmets. We have a buy one get one free promotion on helmets today, trying to clear out some old stock.
As I finish ringing them up I see a man and woman over by the boots. I start to head over there when I hear the woman say, “C’mon, Tham. I really like these boots. Think about how good these would look on me as we fight that Troll.” I decide to leave them alone and let the lady do the convincing when another customer walks in the shop.
I see her browsing the chestpieces and I walk over and say, “You won’t find better chest armor, not in this city at least.”
She frowns and says, “I can’t help but notice all of them are open in the middle, do you have any that cover the entire chest?”
I am too confused to give an answer. Was she looking for men’s armor? That must be it so I say, “This store is for women’s armor, if you are looking for something for your husband there is a…”
She cuts me off, “Oh no. I am looking for armor for myself.”
“Well, like I said, you won’t find better armor. This armor,” I say as a sweep my hand in the direction of the chestpieces, “is a favorite of every woman in the city.”
“Yes, but it leaves a large part of the chest exposed. Who would want that?” She says as she walks over to the products and shows the missing area in each piece.
“Who would want that? We’ve sold hundreds of these this season alone. Many, many women have gone on quests in these chestpieces. You remember the plunder of Alexand’s grave and the woman who came back with the Millennium Seeing Stone? She had one of my chestpieces. Heck, she had a full set of my armor.” I say with a touch of pride in my voice. "If you want to dress like a man you can head over to 'Karl's' across the street.
She scoffs and storms out of the store. I shake my head thinking she must be new. Adventuring is not just about fighting the bad guys and finding treasure. Style matters. Some people just don’t get that.
| 2017-08-31T19:42:37 | 2017-08-31T19:24:11 | 1,511 | 142 |
[WP] There is a vampire ruling your village, but he's mostly a nice guy who doesn't do that bad a job a ruler, so it's our job as the village's diplomat to explain to every well meaning adventurer and knight that comes your way that you weren't brainwashed and you honestly don't want him to die. | "WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE'S NOT A THREAT? HE'S A VAMPIRE!" The man roared heartily, fist on hip and gesturing as if to a wide audience.
"Yeah, crops are coming in good. We have had good commerce with neighboring villa-"
"Oh, I understand now. Yes, his obvious magical vampirism has addled your tiny village brain. YOU are TOO BLIND to SEE... That that THING, is dangerous."
"No no no, you've got it all wro-"
"AND MUST BE DESTROYED. For it is against the natural order of... things."
I was getting frustrated, I have dealt with the likes of this adventurer before. Boastful, rambunctious, hunting for glory and gold. Fame and fortune seekers, deliverers of peace and justice.
He continued.
"I am Trony! MIGHTY TRONY THE FORTH!"
"Trony? Surely you can't be called 'Tro-"
"AND I AM HERE ON A RAMBUNCTIOUS HUNT FOR GLORY AND GOLD, SEEKING FAME AND FORTUNE!" he boasted. His tone quietened and he lowered his head and whispered in an attempt to create tension.
"Delivering peace. And justice. Now. There is a vampire here and believe it or not, vampires are the bad guys and need to be..."
He gestured stabbing a stake into his heart, even though he stabbed into the wrong side of the chest.
"... Stabbed in the heart with a steak knife."
"My apologies, you're an idiot." I spat out, almost wishing I could draw the words back in. My chest felt tight and my face immediately began to blush.
"What? What did you just call me?" Trony's expression seemed to switch instantly, his posture changed as if ready to attack.
"I meant I'm an idiot. The vampire isn't here. He's in the next village, his name is... Curbeuo."
"Ah yes, I've heard of Curbeuo, the vicious bitch."
"Yes, well. I'm sorry for taking your time. I'm just a simple villager."
"INDEED YOU ARE! I will never see you again. Farewell!"
The big man marched out whistling a tune and throwing his arms back and forth with each stride. I sat back in my chair and checked the list.
"One down, 18 to go."
| "Sir, there is another one" said to me my secretary, "Thank you, send him in". A tall, blond masculine man entered my office, almost breaking my door. "Huzzah! Hello to you my good sir, I am sir Justice of the Seven Rivers. You can consider your little blood sucking problem as done. Just point me to this vile creature and I shall slay it with all my might." At that point, he started to scream many battle cries that I think made my ears bleed a bit. After he calmed down I resumed "well, this is what I wanted to talk to you about. You see, we would like you to NOT kill Kevin" "Who is Kevin?" "He is the vampire". It seems like the warrior processed something in his mind as his expression was the face of a lost child. "I do not follow, I need to kill the creature AND his name is Kevin?" "Not at all. You see, when he moved to our town people were skeptical but it seems like he is a very nice guy. Just this week he got an award from the Mayer for his voluntary work. He even helped to build us a school" "What, in the holy name of God, is school?" "It is a building where we send our children to learn to better their lives" "You are sending that monster your small ones? I think I am going to puke *a few overly dramatic gag attempts* You are in need of my help more than I thought, I must make haste" it seemed like this one was dumb as the rest of them, it was time for plan B. " Actually, yes we do need your help but the evil vampire is not here, he is in the forest of epic battles. You must go there and save us" "No worry my small non-masculine man. But I do not know where this forest resides, could you specify a little more?" "Of course, it is just North to the gulf of a thousand deaths" "I like the sound of that but do not know where that is either" " You know what, just start heading to the East and ask people on the way, I'm sure they will help a great hero as you" "Thank you sir" and then he stormed out of the door. The door opened again "Oh, hi Kevin. How are you?" "I'm doing just fine, was the guy that ran out of your office.." "yes, another one. What are you doing here?" "I made some of your favorite pie and thought to bring it to you" "Thank you, Kevin, you're such a great guy". | 2017-09-07T02:00:35 | 2017-09-07T00:35:13 | 97 | 26 |
[WP] You're an explorer of the galaxy. Together with your trusty ship, you set foot on a new planet. To your surprise, you find a small hut with some remains and a laptop. The documents on the laptop are less funny however | Lt. Craig Waters couldn't believe it. Was he about to read a fascinating diary? An invaluable geological report? Maybe even a set of instructions leading to some incredible new natural resource?
Taking a deep breathe, he accessed the document.
He couldn't believe what he saw:
*This is howww we dooooooooo et! This-is-how-we-do-etttttt! It's friday noighttttttt! And I feel alroightttt!!! The party is here on the West Side! so I reach for my 40 and I turn it upppp, designated driver take the keys to my truck!*
Utterly infuriated, Lt. Waters slammed the laptop shut. Of all the things this person could have recorded, who had evidently been the first person to arrive on this planet, he or she had decided to write only a crude rendering of the lyrics to Montell Jordan's "This Is How We Do It."
Lt. Waters was disgusted as he re-entered his ship, virtually certain that this planet had nothing to offer.
| Below me I beheld the most beautiful landscape. Lush green jungles and silvery streams as far as I could see. A place much like Earth, but undisturbed by human presence. Eons of destruction had not passed here. This paradise, I believed, was precisely how the universe had long ago designed it.
The old ship trembled as it drew nearer the surface. I prepared myself for landfall, and within minutes, I was standing in a field of high grass. The air was a sweet perfume, there were flowers taller than a grown man and the breeze softly caressed my cheeks.
Then I noticed a structure in the distance. A small hut, man-made! I ran towards it and inside, I found a pile of clothes and some provisions. On the table in the corner was a laptop. My shaking hand reached for the touchpad, and to my surprise the screen turned on! Within seconds, I discovered a number of text files on the computer. The documents were all called “Joke” followed by a number. I clicked “Joke 1” and began to read. Then I read “Joke 2” and “Joke 3”. After about fifteen or twenty jokes, I still had not produced so much as a smile.
| 2017-10-11T12:13:25 | 2017-10-11T10:47:37 | 29 | 17 |
[WP] Out of all possible familiars, you are "Graced" with a human. While legend says that they are beings of great power, yours just makes sarcastic comments and pranks people. | I stared at her.
"You're not."
"Yes, I am." Her grin would have been winning, were I the type to be won. For me, it was simply charming.
But charm had to be cast aside. I flared my gills. "We can't have your knife-tongue or your tricks tonight. The High Athame doesn't take kindly to such unseemly behaviour. I'm two cycles from Ascension and currently in prime position for an office in the Ejio'kerem. If *something*," and here I gestured to the scroll she was working on, "were to irritate the Athame and it were found to be connected to me, all of that is *gone*. We'll be living out our lives in the Ejio'*karal* processing hangra'nem forever -- which, let me tell you, is worse than death. At least if we're dead, a keriel'thala might raise us, and then we'll be doing something *useful*."
"Oh, psh with all that," she waved, before taking another sip of her drink. She wasn't even looking at me, all attention going to the scroll. "You don't know this, but for a man so High, the High Athame has some very low morals, among them being a particularly unwelcome lasciviousness towards some of the more *attractive* familiars, no matter the species," and here she gave me a quick murderous gaze that told me exactly what she thought of such abuses, "and a particularly unseemly jealousy towards some of the more *promising* keriel'kerem."
I waited. She waited.
"I'm talking about *you*, you waterlogged idiot. He's been holding you down since your performance at the Fandalen. You've been destined for the Ejio'karal ever since you put up a better result at Fandalen than his."
"That's nonsense. He would never --"
Another murderous gaze. "*Who* was your proctor during that examination? You know the one."
"Oh."
"And I'm not going to start on his behaviour at the galas when you conveniently weren't around." She put some finishing touches on the scroll. "So I'm going to publicly embarrass him at the gala to which this perfectly real and legitimate scroll is our invitation, in such a way that he cannot retaliate without exposing himself and must simply and quietly get the fir'ceasa out of *ours*, and you're going to get a nice cushy post in the Ejio'kerem and I'm going to get just the most delicious little spot of revenge for my friends." She lifted up the scroll, admiring her work. "Not bad for someone who's all 'knife-tongue' and 'tricks', wouldn't you say?"
"... Well. I... uh... "
"Yes. Quite. Hmm. Well. I do *so* enjoy it when you're reduced to single-syllable utterances." Arched eyebrows. "Now are we done?"
I waited. She waited.
"I think we both know I'm not stupid enough to get in your way."
Her gaze softened. A warm smile. "Tremendously glad you made me your familiar, darling. Do you need to commune before we head out?"
"No, I'm good."
She looked me up and down. "Good, because we need to commune with that outfit. Chartreuse does *not* suit you. Go on and grab the cerulean one, you know it flatters your colouration better. I'm throwing this one out tomorrow."
I stared at her.
"You're not."
Again, that grin. | Zorgleborp walked into his classroom that day, excited to find out what is familiar was going to be. Maybe it was going to be a Glimpleshob, or even a Targanomp! Oh, a Targanomp would have been so great as a familiar. Zorgleborp sat in his desk and started talking with his friend, Singazorm, about the familiars. Soon, his teacher walked in.
"So, Familiar Day today! Siglenors, I hope you're ready!" the teacher shouted to the class.
"We are!" responded the class.
"Good, good," the teacher stated. "Right, so I've got the hat here. It'll go around the room and you'll reach your tentacle in to get a slip of paper, which will tell you your familiar and conjure it for you." He passed the hat to Snorgledorf.
I waited in anticipation. "I got a Bibnazib!" his friend shouted, signalling his turn.
Zorgleborp's hand reached into the bag. He felt around for a bit, until he found a paper that felt right. He pulled it out and it said...
"Human!" Zorgleborp shouted in exclamation. Humans were supposed to be good. It conjured in front of him, looking around, and then did finger guns and said something like "Ayyyy!"
The hat was passed around until it got back to the teacher. "Alright, class is over. Bye."
Zorgleborp ran out of the classroom, human in tow. However, Zorgleborp soon learned that humans were not cut out for running. He found his human a few yards back from him soon, putting his hands on his knees and panting.
"What, you can't run a few yards?" Zorgleborp sighed.
"I'm not...cut out...for sprints...especially not...at that...speed," the human replied. Zorgleborp almost pitied it. "Besides, could you...run a mille...in under...7 minutes? No...I think not!"
Zorgleborp sighed. "Come on, human. We have magic to do."
"Magic, shmagic. Come on, let's prank some of your alien friends," the human replied. "It'll be fun."
"No," Zorgleborp said. "We're going to do magic with my friends."
The human sighed and got on Zorgleborp's slimy back. They ran all the way to Zorgleborp's friend's house.
Zorgleborp knocked on the door. Soon, they heard a slam, and the door opened. Zorgleborp's friend's head was covered in plastic wrap.
"Hehe," the human laughed.
"Did you do this, human?" Zorgleborp asked.
"Yeah. Funny, right? Ayyyyy!" the human said.
"How?"
The human grinned. "I'm not telling."
"Leave."
"Can't. I'm your familiar, remember? And you seemed so excited to get me when you first pulled that paper out of the hat..."
Zorgleborp's friend intervened. "Hey, maybe we could switch familiars! I've got this weird Sindlesnorp that you might like. And I have a good feeling about this human here."
Zorgleborp's face lit up with relief. "Yes, oh my Zorp, thank you! Here, here's the human!" They traded their familiars and Zorgleborp walked away with a new Sindlesnorp.
"So, I hear you're good at math," the human said to Zorgleborp's friend.
"No, I'm not."
"So you could say...you could subtract it from your life?" the human cracked up.
Zorgleborp's friend sighed. "This was a bad idea, wasn't it?"
"Yep!" | 2018-03-20T18:18:52 | 2018-03-20T18:12:30 | 117 | 20 |
[WP] There's an urban legend that's been circulating for years about a taxi cab that doesn't take you where you want to go, but where you need to go. One night you step into this cab. | The sliding doors whirr open as I stumble out into the cold night air. My face is impassive as I try to reconcile the emotions that threaten to take over me.
"The flight is cancelled? Why!?" I remember shouting at the attendant, fully aware that there was nothing she could do. Asking a human to part the stormy clouds and do the work of God was ridiculous.
And yet I stand here, gazing at the passing cars, hastily packed suitcase by my side, clutching white-knuckled at it's hard handle. Wishing. Praying. Begging that I could see him one last time.
"Where to?" A voice pierces through the wind. Looking up, I see a taxi parked with it's passenger side door open to me. It's interior light is warm and comforting, matching the middle aged man that looks at me with a consoling gaze.
Grief threatens to overwhelm me as I put my suitcase in the boot and sit next to the driver. The door closes with a thud, cutting out the cold air and bringing solace from the howling wind. Staring at the dashboard, my eyes begin to water.
"Where would you like to go" He asks.
"To my fathe-" I stop myself as my throat chokes up. I manage to mumble out my address, as he looks at me sympathetically.
It was this morning that I had gotten the call. A freak brain aneurysm in his sleep. An expected survival rate of 6% and given less than 24h to live. I had raced to the airport after booking the first ticket I could, only to be told that there would be no flights today.
I look down at my trousers as dark splotches begin to appear on them. Hot tears cascade from my eyes as I sob, clutching my face with both hands.
"If I could part the clouds then I would, Marcus" The man says to me. Shocked, I turn to him, my sorrow punctuated by surprise. How did he know my name?
"I'm not usually allowed to do this, but I hate seeing people in such pain" He says with a sad twinkle in his eye while turning an unfamiliar corner.
He puts on his blinker, rolling to a stop in front of a large, foreign hospital.
"You have my condolences about your father Marcus. If I were allowed to save him, then I would." He laments as my door opens automatically.
"5th floor, room 231. Go. He doesn't have much time."
"Thank you" I manage to blubber as I stumble towards the entrance, breaking out into a run. Tears streaking down my face.
"Thank you." I say again, whispering. It'd be impossible to hear me from so far away. In fact, I'm talking to the the cold metal walls of the elevator as it climbs lazily.
But for some inexplicable reason. I believe that he could hear my thanks, even if I were 1000 miles away.
-------
:(
| I hop into the back seat of the yellow car I so narrowly missed riding down the street. I hand the man his tip, which I usually do right away, and I sit down. "I want to go to [redacted]", I say slowly, letting him put the address into the GPS. But he doesn't. He just sits there. He, putting the car into drive, asks "You *want* to?"
That question throws me a bit. It even creeps me out to the point of wanting to leave the car, the extreme paranoia from my childhood creeping back into my mind, questioning the nice neighbor as a violent pedophile. The usually ridiculous thoughts, making me become too careful. Being all ridiculous again. "Uh, yeah, I do," I reply.
He's already driving, and I see him simply nod as he turns from the street. As he drives, I try to avoid saying the old cliché "you're going the wrong way," but it's clear he's going the wrong away.
Eventually, he crossed the town line. I ask him to pull over into a lot, and I open the door, going to open the other one to go and sit in the front passenger seat.
"Alright, what the hell is going on?" I ask. "I need to bring you somewhere. You need to go there," the man said vaguely. I sputtered. "You turn this car around or I'm going to take back my tip and call an Uber." He nods slightly and puts the car back in park. I quickly buckle in my seatbelt and get ready for the rest of the ride. "I'm not a psychopath, I'm not a rapist, ma'am," he said calmly. "I need to bring you where *you* need to go."
My paranoia creeps in a bit more, seeming to be less ridiculous now. But I clutch my bag, confused. "We're almost there," he says a minute later, and after *that,* we pull into a hospital.
"Wha–" I say, and he puts a hand on my shoulder. "It's okay," he says. I open the door and walk in, to tend to his desires. I know the strategies; I've watched the crime shows. In case he *is* a psychopath, he is a rapist, I need to give him what he wants.
To my surprise, he turns the car off and follows me. I give him a look of anger. "Let me direct you," he says. I sigh. I let him "direct" me. Other people will be there, so if he *tries* anything, they'll call the cops, help me, stuff like that.
He walks me through hallways and into an elevator. A few floors up, he walks to a room at the end of the hallway. 209 is the number. He walks in and a woman is laying there, hooked up to all kinds of machines. "Wha–" I say, tearing up. I look at him, and back at her. My mother.
*I really love this plot, so I might right a part two and maybe a part three later! Be on the lookout, but not so much that you're disappointed if I don't make one. So I can't promise anything, but I hope to write more!* | 2018-04-29T00:38:29 | 2018-04-28T22:46:51 | 213 | 44 |
[WP] Aliens invade Earth. Turns out Human weapons technology is way more advanced than it should be. | The invasion fleet screamed through the air above the little blue planet. A rocky one, quite small, albeit the largest orbiting its cold yellow star.
The admiral's vessel led the squadron captains, the captains' ships led the crew transports, with the thousands and thousands and thousands of thousands of battle-hardened warriors.
They would reduce this planet to a smoky wasteland, full of flame. The seas would boil, and plasma would arc through the blazing air onto the melting mountaintops.
Just like home. Sweet, sweet home.
The invasion fleet screamed through the air above a large, alien structure, a large flat plane of some artificial material. The admiral chose a spot, and gave a command. The squadron captains relayed the command to the troop carriers, and the fleet landed.
A thousand and a thousand ships opened their doors, and disgorged a thousand thousand warriors, ready for battle. They paused, awaiting the word of the admiral's.
He paused, waiting until his communicator told him everyone could hear. He took a deep breath, enjoying the fresh Fluorine flavour from his respirator, then readied to speak.
And saw a looming figure in the distance. An inhabitant of the planet, a creature of impossible scale - a living being breathing the impossibly toxic air of this small blue planet, a single creature larger than a entire country. It raised a cylindrical tank the size of a city, there was a hiss, and the air was filled with huge droplets of burning cold liquid.
The droplets smashed against the spacecraft, oozing into them, shorting the electronics, cracking the doors. They smashed against the highly trained warriors ready for battle, seeping into the respirators, into their skin, freezing and burning. They smashed against the squadron captains and the admiral. All was chaos, and burning pain. Burning, freezing pain. Then another hiss, and another, and another from the cylinder held by the gigantic creature.
The droplets screamed through the air above the invasion fleet, and the hissing, freezing, burning pain continued until the admiral knew no more.
----
"Now, Joseph! What do you think yer doin'!? Why'd you spray the picnic table!? We're about ta eat!"
"There's some weird bugs, maw, I's just sprayin' 'em!"
Joseph's mother came to the table, and looked at the remains of the invasion fleet. She shook her head.
"Well, what in the Lord's name are those little critters?"
"Just some weird bugs, maw. I sprayed 'em."
His mother came to a decision. "Well, don't just stand there, get your paw, it's time to eat. I'll get a cloth and clean this up." | Log 10-1-03a
Invasion of the Human Empire
Galaxy 736
A new inhabited planet has been discovered in system 87b. Through our cloaked surveillance flyers, we have discerned that the inhabitants call themselves 'humans'. They appear to not be very advanced, as they have barely developed space travel. Our troops are being deployed.
Log 10-1-03b
War with the Human Empire
Galaxy 736
We were not prepared! Enemy weapons are tearing through our troops' plasma membranes. They appear to have high penetration power against enemies. Our weapons are practically useless, as their outer membranes are too strong to be disrupted by our Disassemblers. They also appear to have large energy cannons that fire a high-velocity projectiles, which tear our flyers into pieces using raw explosive power.
Log 10-1-03c
Survival against the Human Empire
Galaxy 736
Our troops have managed to take down some humans using our older model Disintegrators, but they use a lot more power, so we can't hope to hold out for long. Mothership 37g has been taken out of the atmosphere by strange winged vehicles, which blasted it with projectiles that tore apart it's hull. We have managed to recover some Human weapons, they will be described in the next log.
Log 10-1-04
Human Weapons
Type-87b Blaster: A design made mostly of primitive plastic. The inside of the weapon appears to be a thin tube through which their projectiles are propelled. The projectiles are contained in a small casing which is expelled out the side of the weapon when fired. These casings are stored in a small container attached to the weapon that is removed and replaced when empty. The weapon has a small lever on the bottom that appears to ignite a compound inside the casing that propels the projectile. Each projectile seems to automatically move itself into the weapon as the previous one is expelled. There are many variants of this weapon, it seems to depend on the human faction you encounter.
Type-87b Scatterblaster: Similar in design (but not appearance) to the blaster. It propels multiple spherical projectiles, contained in a cylindrical casing. Sometimes it may require a small section at the front to be pulled back in order to ready the next casing for propulsion. The casings are often loaded individually. If any of our troops are caught close range with one of these, they will often explode.
Type-87b Explosive Device: The Humans appear to pull a small ring off of this device and throw it. It seems to explode a few seconds after throwing, clearing out any troops nearby. Careful dissections have revealed gunpowder held inside. It appears to be named as a 'Grenade' by the Humans, as they are heard yelling this when throwing.
Most human weapons seem to be similar to the Blaster, however none have been retrieved as of yet. We will attempt to retrieve more, but it is unlikely that we will survive. | 2018-05-16T15:03:25 | 2018-05-16T14:23:36 | 208 | 94 |
[WP] Two werewolves fall madly in love, but only during the full moon. When they’re human, they can’t stand each other. | He wasn't in love, he was in lust. I call him "he" because I can't control a single goddamn thing he does. I can make it impossible for him to roam freely. The industrial strength cage I too easily found on Amazon lends me that claim. But other than that. I can't control him. So when I got a DM from Nichole that she had fun the other night and want's to see me again. I realize that he's only let me think I've found a solution. He goes out and murders, maims and fucks his way back to a cage that he has learned how to pick the lock of and how to slink back into it without raising suspicion. During the daylight I think about killing Nichole. She's only a cubicle away, but I'd definitely go to jail for doing that. I think about killing her during the hour before our transformations, but every so often I hear the howling of our brood. She's raising them in the woods by night. She's embraced her nature. She's raising something I will love by instinct to kill me when I get too old to keep up. I can't kill my other, I can't kill myself and I can't kill the girl. I'll keep resisting. I'll try to outsmart "him" by modifying the cage. But I know it's a matter of time before I'm running free and feasting on a deer before I hear a twig snap behind me, a roar that sounds like my own and the last thought I'll have is hoping skinny Brad will be able to cover my fucking shift. | He'd only gone out for a simple jog. It was a nice night, cool and quiet. After a rather hectic day at the company, he was desperate to relax himself. Dannan forgot about the full moon. Hidden behind the clouds, out of his sight, he jogged along the empty sidewalk, ear buds snug in his ears as he went. Rounding the corner, he found himself coming to a halt. His heart beat was suddenly very, very noticeably loud. Overhead, the cloud drifted on their merry way, revealing the moon so full and big in all its glory.
The doors of the nearby convenience store suddenly opened and someone walked out. Dannan recognized them, it was his coworker Ensil. His chest suddenly felt tight, the beating of his heartbeat going faster and faster until he was positive it would burst. Ensil stopped as well. He looked Dannan's way and the pair locked eyes. Any thoughts that Dannan had at the moment became foggy mush. He slowly approached Ensil who eyed him, carefully, sensually.
"Hey, " he said, not breaking eye contact.
"Hey. Out for a run?"
"Yeah. Just...felt like I needed it tonight. What about you?"
"Bought some drinks." Ensil smiled Dannan's way. "You wouldn't want to come by, would you?"
Dannan grinned wolfishly. "Do you mind?"
"Not in the slightest."
On those nights where the moon is full and bright, a love that shouldn't exist burns hard inside of Dannan and Ensil. Any other day, the pair are like water and oil, completely unmixable. They bicker back and forth, are irritated in one another's presence and overall hate each other's guts. But the full moon changes that entirely. Several months had passed since they first fell in love and ever since then they've tried their hardest to avoid each other on those cursed nights. Of course, it never works. | 2018-05-23T01:03:36 | 2018-05-22T19:34:35 | 19 | 14 |
[WP] Every Monday you and your coworkers order Chinese food for a nice lunch together as a team. Everyone's sharing what their fortune cookie says, laughing, and having a good time. It's almost your turn so you open yours. It says "Don't say anything. Just run as fast you can! Get out now!" | "Oh My God!"
"That was hilarious! I think Dan is still running!"
"Literally the funniest thing I've ever seen"
"How'd you do it?"
"Well", I started slowly "first I found this company in California that makes custom fortune cookies. It was a little pricey, because you have to order a whole case, but I figured after Dan jello'd my stapler, I had to come up with something better. After that I just waited. I figured three months of not getting Dan back would be long enough for him to stop being paranoid and lull him in to a false sense of security. Then I started the Monday Chinese Lunch Club. Mr. Yu was more than happy to help. And the result, well, better than anticipated."
"Someone should text Dan and tell him it was a joke. You know. In a little while." | I quickly grabbed my stomach and my mouth, dashing out of the room, into the washroom, in an attempt to make it appear as if I was about to throw up.
As I looked at myself in the mirror, the same words kept on repeating in my head:
'Get out now!'
Catching my breath, I let out a little chuckle. Am I seriously going to let some fortune cookie tell me what to do? Since when did fortune cookies actually bring fortune? Last time I checked, the only things it gave me were calories.
But there was something inside me that was telling me to go. To follow the fortune cookie, no matter how ridiculous it sounded.
Better safe than sorry.
I swiftly made my way towards the lift lobby, down the many levels of cubicles filled with office workers, moving as fast as the average worker rushing to go home, excusing myself out of the building in the process. Then I ran.
I ran and ran, and I continued running until I could barely see my office building, thinking that it was a reasonably safe distance away.
That was when I saw the planes crashing down into the neighboring buildings, causing chaos in the already chaotic New York City. | 2018-06-10T08:12:17 | 2018-06-10T07:38:37 | 29 | 17 |
[WP] Aliens have made first contact with earth. They sent a message, that we decoded and translated to our own languages. The message said: "Greetings, Colony #037. We are glad to see you survived. The others all ran out of resources. May we come over?" | Daisy sat on the covered patio, gazed into the blue horizon, and closed her watery eyes. Her daughter bounced in her lap, wearing a yellow sundress.
“Mama, Mama, the rockets!”
Daisy kissed her forehead. “Yes dear. The rockets.”
Twelve-hundred rockets blazed like meteors, their trajectories carefully studied and planned, all with singular purpose. “*Welcome home,”* the world cried, ushering them to safety.
Susan looked up in wonder, “What will the rocket men look like?”
“Very much like you or I, sweetie.”
“What will they smell like?”
Daisy chuckled, ruffling her daughter’s brown hair. “Like you or I”
“What does daddy think of the rocket men?”
Daisy looked at the driveway, where the rusted pickup hummed into its oil-marked spot. “Run and ask him.”
Susan bounded from the porch, skipping down the cobblestone path into the strong arms of her father. Jeremy grabbed her shoulders and spun her into the air, pirouetting like a ballerina to the symphony of childish giggles.
“Daddy! Did you see the rockets?”
He set her down on the pavement. “Oh—the rockets. I’ve seen them.”
“What do you think of the rocket men?”
He walked towards the front porch, locking eyes with his wife. “I don’t know sweetie. I haven’t seen them yet.”
“Welcome home dear,” Daisy said, planting a soft kiss on his cheeks. “How was work?”
They walked through the front door. “Work is… work. They can’t stop talking about it. They’re thinking of a whole plant shutdown.”
Daisy stopped. Her heart skipped a beat. “For how long?”
“Until this all blows over. A week or two, max,” Jeremy said, handing his coveralls in the coat closet. He paused, then looked back at Daisy. “We’ll be fine. Really, they’re not talking about layoffs.”
“I know, it’s just—”
He moved into the living room, sitting down on the plush olive couch. “Just what?”
“Just—I don’t know—I don’t like these rocket men. I don’t trust them,” Daisy said, sitting beside him.
Their daughter ran into the room, filled with childish glee, then ran back outside, as if she forgot something important. What was it? Oh yes! The rockets! And the rockets slowed their descent. They pulsed their thrusters, extending their tripods. They slowed, hovered in the air, lowered themselves slowly, and landed. The world cheered in applause. What marvelous rockets! And what marvelous rocket men!
“What do you think they want?” Daisy asked, massaging her husband’s thighs.
Jeremy sighed, “Resources, probably? They said the resources were all used up on the other colonies.”
Daisy moved to her husband’s calves, working the knots. “What does that mean? What resources could the rocket men need?”
“I couldn’t say. At least they asked for permission to land.”
“Yes, how polite.”
The family gathered later for dinner. Daisy mashed the potatoes. Jeremy fried the schnitzel. Susan helped set the table. But all eyes were half-glued to the screen, where the news reporters interviewed the rocket men. And how marvelous!
They looked just like us. A little pale from their journey. They wore suits or jeans or shirts. They spoke with an accent not unlike ours and were well-mannered, asking permission to land, or to step inside a building, or to sit down, or stand up.
Twelve-hundred rockets, each with thousands of well-mannered rocket men.
The doorbell chimed.
“I’ll get it!” Susan chimed back, running towards the door.
Daisy lost the mental coin toss with Jeremy and followed. The door opened, and to her shock, a rocket man was standing outside. He was tall and pale, and wore a sharp black suit with a blood-red tie.
“Hello,” he said, “I’m one of the ones who landed today. Do you mind if I come inside?”
Daisy opened her mouth to speak, but Susan was faster. “Of course! Come on in! My daddy loves the rockets!”
“Excellent,” the rocket man said, flashing a dazzling smile.
He stepped past the threshold, and his smile widened, revealing two, long fangs.
And suddenly Daisy knew what resources they needed, and why they were so well-mannered.
***
Switched up my style a bit, hope you all liked it. r/BLT_WITH_RANCH | It was decoded chaos. At first they accused the decoders of playing a prank. Once it was verified, everyone knew what it meant, yet noone wanted to acknowledge except for some cult that began calling themselves 'The Deposits'.
I wasn't sure about how to react. A colony??? How could we possibly have been a colony? The reporters have been eating and sleeping on my lawn since yesterday, they won't leave without a statement. I don't think its a news story they're looking for, what the need is an assurance, and only I know how much assurance i need.
The secratery of defence called me and said he's sending a car for me, they want me at the pentagon to discuss what the reply should be. How can we reply when the message has uprooted all our understandings about ourselves. We can't distinguish between scientists and conspiracy theorists anymore.
The pentagon was the most impressive building I've set foot inside, but i was in no situation to appreciate it.
The conference table was a mini representation of how the country is run- the men who actually run things and me, an ordinary citizen who happened to decode the message.
"Sit down, Jason" said the secratery. The President looked at me and gave ne a nod that said, "We hope you have sone faintest idea, because we got shit". And that's what scared me, i felt like there's too much on me.
"So, we have the basic idea about what the message means, Dr. Stephens will debrief now, Dr, please..."
As the Secratery sat himself, Dr Stephens rose, adjusted his spectacles and looked anxiously at everyone at the table. He seemed to be the only one in the room who got a grip on the things.
He began, "Last week, we got the message, we didn't know what to make of it, so we put it on the internet and young Jason here decoded it, as we all know, the message was in no forms what we had expected or imagined. So along with the decoded message and some bits and dots that was decoded as various locations, our prominent historians, biologists and geologists have been able to identify that the locations in the message have been the first areas that we believe that life began on Earth. Along with some underground structure that was dug out yesterday that proved out to be some kind of spaceship station, these messages prove that the message have to be taken as it is. We are merely a colony that was set up by these life forms as a way of expanding the possibility of sustaining their race".
"So they just dumped some eggs in here and just left?"
asked the President.
"We believe they did sent some individuals who tried to tell us of our origin, but we must have thought them for God's messengers and made religions out of it"
The doctor's reply invoked a prolonged silence in the room.
"Put aside the origin theories, we have to decide what we have to do now. Mr. President?" The Major finally broke the silence.
The President looked puzzled at the Doctor. "How many of them are there?"
"About 2.5 billion from their data, and that looks like it"
"Clearly we won't withstand an attack, right?"
"No we won't, with their technology they can incinerate the whole planet it seems, they are orbiting us within range".
"Uh... What are the stands of other nations? If i may ask?" I intervened nervously.
"They're all under the stand that we should let them in, that we don't have any other choice. What is your take on all of this, Jason?"
"Firstly I don't think they'll 'incinerate' us, if they're looking for a planet to live on, surely they won't, so why would the orbit us with their big guns? It's clearly nit a defensive action because they've come in out range, and just because they put us in here, doesn't mean we owe them anything, we shouldn't let them in, atleast not until they've shown their hands."
"You trying to get us extinct son? They're clearly not asking permission, they're just knocking. We are supposed to open" The Major was displeased.
"It's just my take on things sir" I said.
The Major turned to the President, "Sir please dont tell me you're considering this"
The President took a pen and a pice of paper, scribbled down something and pushed it in front of me and said, "Son just encode this will you?"
I took the paper and looked back at him, he smiled at me and said aloud "Meeting dispersed until after the reply is sent." Then he whispered something in the Secratery's ears and I was escorted out with for men who were heavily armed into a room and i was sat in front of a computer.
There, i opened the paper and a sudden rush of cold climbed by backbone. It said "They believe you, begin descend."
| 2018-12-15T22:46:51 | 2018-12-15T21:54:25 | 206 | 24 |
[WP] We learn aliens exist, but they have access to so many planets that the only thing of value on Earth is human culture. Aliens hid themselves so they could redistribute our culture without tainting it. Now humanity explores a galaxy that has been familiar with humans for centuries. | It was a random thing to put in your resume. You directed a high school play once. An adaptation of of a popular show. And that was enough to have hundreds, THOUSANDS of messages sent to your galactic missive box. Dozens of amusement-crews, fighting desperately for your attention. Each job offer more exorbitant than the last. If one amusement-crew would offer a hover car, the next one would offer two. You suspect that they are spying on each other. You decided to accept an offer by one of the more reputable crews, you signed the contract and became a casting director and ludicrously paid consultant. They sent a luxury space ship to get you.
WE ARE ARRIVING AT SIGMA-FOUR-FOUR, WELCOME TO ANDROMEDA END.
Your ship exits hyperspace and you see it from outside your window. You've seen the documentary holo-vids, but this is something else. An entire planet or theaters, glowing of a familiar black and gold. The stage is life for this planet and every inch of it was covered by theaters. A garish glow of the planet makes it reminiscent of a mosquito lamp. Rather apt, while some of the greatest thespians the galaxy have known got their start in Sigma four four, it consumes amateurs by the millions. All of them come to Andromeda End looking for their big break, never thinking that the stage could break them.
As the space craft descends upon the atmosphere and enters the fly-routes, you catch glimpses of some of the theaters. They weren't kidding. An entire planet of theaters, all showing one show.
Hamilton
The entire planet's industry was focused on this one show. You see the rap schools and dance schools. Different races walking down the sidewalk wearing the same 17th century costumes. Rehearsal halls all playing the same tunes. Diners that wont open until the matinee ends. Hotels for guests and sleazy bunkhouses for out of work actors.
More theaters, each advertising their own version of the play. One theater has the accolades of critics. Another offer seats for non-carbon based life forms. Another boasts an all mind-parasite cast. Each one fighting for viewership, currency and acclaim.
And the funniest thing is? Even if you are working on one of the shows, even with your stupidly-high paycheck, you still cant get tickets. | The biggest winners were the impersonators and the "tribute" bands.
Sure, there were a few recent acts that were popular. Osamu Masuko was booked on a multi-galaxy tour bringing his symphony of simulated bodily sensations to organisms that didn't even share similar biology, but for some reason appreciated the VR versions of his work. Of course the purists always claim that the live performances are better, but when it's someone like Osamu fucking Masuko the purists don't really care that his pop drivel was off touring other galaxies. They'd prefer he disappear to another dimension, but those kinds of bookings it seems are reserved only for entities humans would refer to as deities.
But the tribute acts were a whole other story. Symphony orchestras were easily the hottest tickets around for their programs of past masters like Bach, Beethoven, and Brahms. However, even the obscure weirdos who had studied performance files of early recorded popular music were in high demand. A fat guy in a weird super hero costume with jewelry embedded in it went from dancing and singing in his living room for a worldwide un-paid subscriber count of roughly a dozen people to playing for crowds of beings that, in Earth terms, rivaled the old "Wrestlemania" telecasts. Rock & Roll had been dead on Earth only about 70 years after "The King of Rock & Roll" himself (so about 400 years total), but the last impostor to the throne was now suddenly as hot in the R'Lan galaxy as a Lucid Dreaming streamer is on Earth.
This posed a significant problem for the people who actually wanted to explore the universe in a scientific manner. Alien worlds were so obsessed with entertainment that the idea of welcoming humans to the planet who were not there to perform for them actually caused the science teams to be shut out. A great ruse had to be designed, although it took some observation of the aliens' expectations of explorers in order for anyone to even understand.
The aliens kept asking to meet Kirk, Picard, Janeway, and Wesley Crusher. It took some time for the pattern to be noticed, and even longer for the explorers to effectively start to put on "shows" for the aliens. Once someone was clued in to the ancient mythology the aliens seemed so excited for, many a damn good scientist was traumatized in the early attempts at "role playing" because they thought it best to play as Kirk. They quickly understood that while the Kirk character was popular, the aliens expected his cross-species promiscuity to be reproduced for them. Eventually the explorers figured out that by posing as a troupe consisting entirely of everyone playing the same transporter chief, one known as O'brien, the aliens really had no interest in them. | 2018-12-22T01:48:00 | 2018-12-22T01:40:31 | 32 | 20 |
[WP] Your high school teacher is introducing a new transfer student. You're bored as usual until you look up and see that the new student is a lizard. You quickly look around the room, but no one seems to notice or care. You turn back and the lizard is looking right at you. | Ian always hated English class. It was rare for there to be anything that interested him. Most of the books were boring and the writing assignments were even more so. A four page essay about my spring break? I stayed at home watching TV and playing StarCraft, should I write about that? Uhg.
While Ian internally complained and stared out the window, Mr. Smith was droning on about something. Ian didn't care, probably something dumb. He would ask Chris about it later.
"... count on you, right Ian?" Mr. Smith said.
Ian focused his attention towards him. Mr. Smith had his hands on the shoulders of a kid wearing a collared shirt and jeans. It also had a lizard face. Weird. Wait.
"Excuse me, what the fuck," Ian said aloud as what he was seeing finally hit him.
"Ian, watch your language! Are you going to help Mark get settled in or not? If you do I may forget the fact you just cursed in my classroom."
Ian was still trying to wrap his head around this. He looked around the room and no one seemed to care. Some of his classmates were doodling, others casually looking in his direction. 'Mark' was looking right at him. Okay, I wanted to end my boredom but this is too damn much, he thought to himself. Think. No one else is responding to this, maybe it's a prank or... maybe you are hallucinating. Okay, I'll show him around, first top, nurses office.
"I guess," Ian said still filled with doubt and worry.
"Great. Chris, can you please make sure to give him a copy of your notes after class?"
"Sure thing, Mr. Smith," Chris replied.
"Alright, Ian get going. Come back when you are done."
"Okay," Ian said while staring hard at Mark.
Ian got out of his desk and grabbed his bag. There was a part of him that wanted to look up and see some normal pimply face teenager staring back at him when he looked up again.
No luck. Still a guy with a green head that resembled a Komodo dragon.
Ian opened the door and held it for Mark who exited the classroom.
Think, Ian, how do I figure this out. Shit. Wait.
"So, where are you from?" Ian asked without looking at him.
"You probably have never heard of it, it's pretty far away." He replied, his voice was raspy with a bit of lisp, but it was distinctly a North American English accent of some sort. Ian was never good at that stuff. Like he could tell if someone was from the south or the east coast but that's about it.
"I see. Well, let's go to the nurse first I have to ask her a question, but here are the 2nd floor classrooms as you have already figured out. Any classroom with a 2... which now that I'm saying it, that's probably obvious."
"A little," Mark said with an odd chortle. "Are you okay?"
Fuck. The one question he didn't want this guy to ask. No, there are a million questions he didn't want him to ask. Keep it simple until you figure this out Ian.
"Yeah, might be getting a cold or something." Ian replied.
They descended the stairs to the first floor near the entry to the building.
"Okay so down that way," Ian pointed behind the stairs, "are the A lockers and classrooms, mostly for freshman. And over that way, are the C lockers and the C classrooms and this way are B." Ian said this as he pointed down the halls where they were.
"Got it."
"And around this corner are all the administration crap, principal's office, nurse's office, all that shit. So give me a minute. I'll be back in a few." Ian said as he opened the door to the nurses office.
Mrs. Brooks was sitting at her computer as he entered. She looked up, smiled and slid her chair into the open.
"Hello, young man. Ian, right?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"What's wrong?"
"I don't really know, I think I might have a fever or something. I was seeing weird stuff earlier."
Please don't ask me. Please don't ask me.
"That doesn't sound good. Let's take your temperature, though I must say you look perfectly fine."
"Yeah, it just happened a bit ago. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't weird."
She gave him a concerned, but puzzled look before handing him a thermometer. He put it in his mouth. Ian knew there was nothing wrong. Mark was a damned lizard person and he was the only one that could see it. This was some serious horror stuff going on. Lovecraft, King... something.
A moment later the thermometer beeped. Mrs. Brooks took it.
"98, a bit low, but nothing to worry about. Why don't you go back to class for now, if you start to feel worse you can come back."
Figures.
"Okay, thanks Mrs. Brooks."
Ian left the office to see Mark sitting on a nearby chair in the hall.
"Everything okay?" He asked.
No, it's not, you still look like a damned lizard.
"No. You are going to think this is nuts... but right now you look like a lizard person. I don't mean I think you are ugly or weird or something... like LITERALLY A LIZARD PERSON. I think I'm losing my mind."
Mark chuckled.
"Well, guess someone is losing their fucking job. Flarxal, did you hear that?.. No, I didn't authorize that yet... This was a long term mission, estimated ten earth years... No, EARTH YEARS... You what?.. For the love of... Well, sorry Ian. You weren't suppose to find out this way." Mark lifted his wrist and a holographic interface appeared. He did something to it and his face shifted to that of an almost generic high school student. Dark hair, roman nose, pimples all that. Then it reverted back.
Ian was trying to wrap his head around this. What the actual fuck. He started to feel light headed. He fell backwards.
"Yep, there he goes," 'Mark' said as Ian lost consciousness.
*Continued below.* | Alright, first ever writing prompt. Lets give it a try!
&#x200B;
I sit on the bike seat, and the song starts playing. The distinct sound of the rolling stones as the song begins its climb. The bus drives past me and I see a few classmates wave at me, I wave back, then turn and wave to father as he climbs into his car.
“Oh a storm is threat’ning”
I explode from the driveway on the mountain bike, I hit the road hard and start heading towards the shortcut to the high school. As I jump the curb and head into the woods the music begins swelling, overhead the sun shines through the treetops giving the forest an eerie lighting.
“Gimmie, gimmie shelter”
As I come out of the forest I can see the school in sight, a few members from the baseball team practice on the field and wave to me as I head across the field, I give them a nod back and pull the bike up to the racks. As I pull the lock out of my bag I feel a hand clap my shoulder.
“Jake man, how do you always beat the bus? I swear you’re insane on that thing.”
The man standing before me is my best friend of seven years Sam. Today he wears his football jersey as tradition for the game after school. Sams nearly 6’3” and weighs nearly 60 pounds more than me, built like the linebacker he is, and looking like the football dream the cheerleaders see him to be. I smile up at him, its always good to see him.
“I don’t know man, I’m just fast and I don’t get tired.” I say with a sly grin.
“Yeah exactly why you should be the new running back!” He says.
It’s true, i’d be great for the running back spot but its never suited me. I stand at 5’11” and almost 170 lbs of toned muscle, i’ve never heavily worked out, its just genes. Neither my father or my mother have to either and they look like they came right out of magazines. My short brown hair, stubble, and blue eyes have always done me wonders with girls but ive never taken any of the offers.
“You know me Sam, im not a fan of sports.”
“Thats fair” he grumbles, his eyes drooping low but almost immediately rising again, “Wait did you hear about the new transfer student?”
“No I didn’t, is this one gonna stay because the last one left after a month.” I say as I start walking into the school.
“I don’t know man, but apparently she's a complete knockout.” He drops his voice low and says with a grin “Kinda like your mother.”
I turn to drill him in the shoulder but somebody does it before I can. I turn to see Kelsey, with her hands on her hip.
“Tell me what I heard was just a joke.” She says angrily.
Kelsey is Sams girlfriend, second in command of the cheer squad, and another good friend of mine for a long time now. The three of us have always stuck together.
“Oh Kel I was just kidding I swear!” Sam says, though it sounds more like begging.
“Mhmm, you’re just lucky I hit you before Jake did.” She says with a sigh, “Anyway, are you still coming to the game after school Jake? Sam won’t say it but he always looks for you in the stands.”
The three of us sit down at our desks in homeroom and I speak as I place my bag down. “Yeah of course, its always fun seeing Sam break people.”
I pull out my homework and place it on my desk as people begin filling the room, Sam and Kel get lost in a conversation about the cheer squad and I lose interest fast, instead focusing on the sky outside the window. The sky was clear this morning but now dark clouds gather overhead, I hear thunder rumble in the distance and I think back to the rolling stones.
“Oh a storm is threat’ning” I say with my voice low.
The students around me continue to talk and I can hear rumors about this new girl, but when Mr. Pencole enters the room everyone quiets down.
“Alright alright everyone, let's settle down and get started. As some of you may know we are receiving a new student today who will be joining our homeroom. You can come in now.”
The girl who walked around the corner was incredible, 5’8”, light brown hair that came down to her shoulders, and a face that looked both innocent and beautiful, already the guys of the room were planning the promposals to her. She stepped beside Mr. Pencole and spoke with a voice like honey, one that seemed to draw you in.
“Hello, my name is Mia, and I just moved here to Laketown from Arizona.” I couldn’t keep my eyes off her as she spoke, but as she finished her sentence she looked directly at me. And her eyes blinked like that of a snakes, chills moved all the way down my body and I felt my throat shut, it was like she triggered some sort of prey instinct inside of my body. A smile just barely touched her lips but it wasn’t innocent anymore. I turned to Sam to see if he noticed but he was practically drooling over her, and when I looked at the rest of the class nobody else seemed to have noticed either. I looked up at her again and she continued her stare at me, my body felt confused, it was as if just looking at her filled me with both instantaneous attraction and venomous fear at the same time. I broke my eyes away once more and focused on the book below me, my hand gripping the desk so hard a crack ran through it.
Sam leaned over to me and whispered “Yo man she's like totally staring at you, I think she’s into you.”
“Thank you Mia,” Mr. Pencole exclaimed, “Why don’t you go have a seat behind Jake right back there.” I could tell he was pointing at me and as she walked towards me the only sound I could hear was the sound of her getting closer, each step bouncing around my head.
As she walked by her arm brushed me and it felt like a fire ripping through my body. She sat behind me and Mr. Pencole began talking about last nights homework but I couldn’t focus on it. All I could hear was the words that she spoke just loudly enough so only i’d hear them.
“Oh a storm is threat’ning.”
EDIT: Thank you everyone for the great comments, really makes me want to keep doing this and further my writing skills :) | 2019-05-22T20:09:37 | 2019-05-22T19:53:44 | 1,269 | 104 |
[WP] The blacksmith won't sell you any weapon, the guards insist you stay in the city and the mages refuse to teach you any dangerous spell. Maybe that eternal youth potion was a terrible idea after all. | “*QUEST COMPLETE*” slowly faded from the black screen, Hogran awoke in his bed. He quickly checked his status bar. No heart problems, no myopia, no cancer. Elador, the old mage who gave him the eternal youth quest wasn’t lying about his instruction list. The hardest fetch quest of Hogran’s career was finally over. He sank into his bed and gave a high-pitched sigh of relief
Hogran remembered that his shield broke fighting the reanimated corpses of those who failed the ritual, so he marched over to the blacksmith.
“I need you to fix this shield… wait. Why is there a red X on it?”
“This weapon can only be wielded by those with the age of 16 or older”
“how old am I?’
“12”
All his weapons and armor were unwearable. The blacksmith could not legally repair or barter weapons with a child. The only weapons available were a toy sword and a slingshot. He tried the same with the mage who could only sell the spell “Sparkler”. The only positive of the situation was that the innkeeper could sell booze to whoever.
Elador said the potion would return him to the golden age of 18, not to his wimpy 12 year old self. Hogran would rather be one of those reanimated skeletons he fought because at least then he would to wield a proper sword.
Hogran had some drinks and bought a slingshot before he set on his way to kick this Elador guys ass. But the gate guard stopped him “Its too dangerous out there for a child.” Hogran was pissed and his newly found liver was very bad at handling alcohol. He drunkenly raised his slingshot and fully extended it towards the guards unflinching face. And he let go.
But a small hand knocked the rock out just before. And Hogran was confronted by a child named Brent
“Children who commit crimes don’t go to a cozy jail cell, they get sent to the orphanage. I’m guessing you talked to Elador”
“How did you…”
“you think you were the first”
Five more drunk 12-year-olds emerged from the shadows.
“come with us we have a plan…” |
“Lift your elbow up higher and twist your shoulders with your whole torso as you swing.” I admonished the youth before me. We had been sparing for a few minutes and he never came close to striking me, it was clear his training had been none existent. Still you couldn’t expect much from an eight year old noble whelp.
Beneath the lad’s embroidered cap his face scrunched up in anger as he swung his fancifully carved wooden practice sword at me wildly, not just ignoring my suggestion but reverting entirely back to his own method of childish sword waving. “I’ll smite you and save the princess just like my Da!”
As the wooden blade passed far to my left I swung hard into the back of his sword to send it flying out of his hands. With a quick flourish the point of my sword was resting against the underside of his chin. I could have smacked him upside the head, that usually worked better to get a child’s attention, but not with the lad’s father watching from a few feet away.
“Ferrin! You need to concentrate and watch his movements to see where he is going to swing.” The father suggested. “I know this is not the royal practice yard but this is where I started learning too, out in the fields among the peasant children. There is just something about this place. I can already tell you have much to learn.” The man pointed a heavily beringed hand in my direction. “Look at this boy, no older than 10 and he could probably already best half the guard trainees at the palace.” He looked me up and down appraisingly. “You do look familiar… I might have sparred here with your father many years ago. Boy! When you are a little older I expect to see you signing up at the palace to join their ranks, they accept anyone over 14 summers. Your father will be very proud and you can move out of his little dirt hovel or whatever it is you live in.”
Yes Lord Farqin… Your great grandfather had said much the same thing to me some 60 years ago. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and just plastered a happy grin on my face, nodding. It was never good to anger a lord with disagreement. He was blind to all but my age and my station as a peasant. I would train his brat, I would train them all, that was the best I could do, that was *all* I could do. I might never be old enough to join the army but I could help the kingdom prepare for the worst. | 2019-06-07T09:49:03 | 2019-06-07T09:41:48 | 30 | 15 |
[WP] At midnight on New Years, you were granted the chance to be sent back to the start of the decade with all your current memories. When you accept and go back, you find out that almost everyone else in the world took this opportunity too. Now 2020 minds are living in the bodies and world of 2010. | Looking back, I don’t think I would’ve taken the offer if I knew what it would actually involve. I really should have read the terms and conditions but, in my defence, no one else had them either. We were all mistaken, unfortunately.
The thing was we all assumed we were special. We all assumed it was a once-in-a-lifetime, one-in-a-billion opportunity. None of us were aware that everyone on Earth had received the same offer. None of us were aware that when we woke up on the morning of January 1st, 2010 (when we should have been in 2020) that, well, roughly half the planet was experiencing the same thing.
I’d come back to when I was twenty-four. When I was still lean and trim, back when I still had my hair and hopes for the future. I was going to make things work with Lauren this time. The first time around, I’d been an idiot. I hadn’t realized how brilliant she was. I wanted freedom and I’d left her and I’d never found anyone quite like her again.
In 2010 we were still dating. I woke up in my old apartment. It was cleaner than I remembered--no dust layer on the coffee table, no pile of dirty laundry in the corner, no mountain of unwashed dishes in the sink and take out containers in the trash.
Lauren slept beside me. She clung to the blanket and rolled, still deep in sleep. She had bangs, now, cut in a blunt line across her face and brushing at her forehead. The last time I’d seen her had been at a friend’s wedding, almost a year ago. Or nine years in the future, I guess, depending on how I wanted to think about it. Her hair was blonder in the future and she’d grown her fringe out into feathered layers. She’d been single, still. No plus one. A flutter of hope perched in my chest before she mercilessly shot it down.
I blinked, heavily, and tried to reorient myself. I couldn’t let anyone think anything about me was different. *2010*. Okay. No iPhone yet. No Netflix either. What TV shows were even on? Lost? Breaking Bad? I really had no idea. The Black Eyed Peas were big, I remembered that much.
But Iin all honesty, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so *good*. It was New Year’s Day--I must’ve drunk more than enough the night before--but I was hangover-free and a-okay to start my day. I rolled over and wrapped my arm around Lauren. I could see my jeans from last night on the floor--they were a little tighter than I liked. Next to them was a god-awful Ambercrombie polo shirt. I owned more of those than I’d like to admit. Hopefull there would be some plain white t-shirts in my dresser. They were a safe bet, really, no matter what year I was in.
“Nate?” Lauren sounded sleepy and distant like she was still caught somewhere between dreams and reality.
I pressed my lips to her temple. “Yes, honey?”
Lauren sat up slowly and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She looked me up and down, her green eyes sweeping over me.
I had to make it better this time. I had to *be* better this time. I had to show her how much I loved her. How much I cared. I wouldn’t get lazy or take her for granted.
Lauren’s face soured. She swallowed. “Nate,” she said. “I think we should break up.”
My heart slid into my stomach and thundered a beat against my guts. I froze--stiff in shock from my palms to my eyes to the soles of my feet. “*What?*”
She turned and slid out of my bed, all while holding the bedsheet in front of her. “I don’t want to waste my time with you, Nate.”
She’d said that when I’d left her. Seven years in the future. Three years in our past. She’d swatted me away and said that: *thanks for wasting my time.* The echo of her voice still hurt.
“Laur--please,” I said.
She didn’t turn to look at me. She only dressed quickly, scooped up her bag, and beelined for the door.
“Lauren," I begged, "Just wait. Please. We can work this out."
She stopped and sighed. When she turned to me, I could see her eyes were red and watery. “This is for the best, Nate. I won’t waste my time. I won't let *you* waste my time.”
The *again* went unspoken.
My mouth hung open in dumb surprise as she shut the door behind her. She was never one for dramatics.
I looked around my empty apartment. It was colder than I remembered. The realization sunk over me like a cold sweat: I was alone. Again. *Again, again, again.*
---
/r/liswrites | “What would you do if the last 10 years of your life could be repeated?” Asked The clickbait article. I sighed, because it was a stupid thought. I couldn’t fix my life. There was no point in trying to think about it. What kind of gotcha shitty ass parody of journalism was this. How had it got so bad that that counted as something worthy of The Tribune. Why would I write this. Why did they pay for it. There is so much wrong with the world. It is on fire, the Nazis are back and I am using a journalism degree to write this. This isn’t why I got into journalism. As a kids favourite superhero was Superman. And it wasn’t the capes or the fighting that made me love him. It was the fact that he always found a way to fight for truth and justice. The way he chose to do this whilst disguised , was as a journalist. And I am using my chance to write articles that people read when they are on the toilet at work.
I checked the clock, 10 more minutes to new year and I’m in a dingily lit apartment. I’m too old to be this poor. I’m 25, this is the age my parents got married, and I’m very much single and only really half employed for a dying Industry. 2 minutes. I check the whiskey, may as well finish the bottle with the decade. 1 minute. I flick over to the countdown, at least the fireworks are always cool. 10 seconds. I survey my life and tell myself the same lie, next year it will be better. Then the world freezes. On the TV I can see that the firework is almost exploding in slow motion. Then a voice asks me. “Do you want another chance? Do you want to try and protect me? Armed with the knowledge of how this will turn out? Will you go back? Armed with your own memories?”
“Back to when?” I ask.
“10 years ago.”
“You have got to be shitting me.” I say, I look at this crappy apartment and I know what the answer is, “Yes. I will try this time.” For I know what this voice is. I don’t know how, but I know it is Gaia the earth herself. She is giving me a chance to live up to my ideals.
Just like that I am 15 again. And I remember what my 15 year self did on NYE in 2009. I was playing Halo with my then best friends in the world. I haven’t spoken to any of them in 5 years. We all freeze. And at once we all once see the shock in eachothers’ eyes. And know we just saw the same thing. Knew that now we all had a second chance. And at once we all simply said “I’m sorry,” and then got back to shooting each other.
The next day, we realised that a lot more people than just us had “gone back.” There was no official news report on it. People didn’t talk about it but everyone knew what had happened. If people were living in denial before, on the 10th January 2010, Donald Trump was shot outside of his New York office. Again, no one wanted to admit that we all knew.
After the London olympics were the first ever to have all those who were doped, banned before the games, people again had to pretend that they did not know.
Then the attacks started, new terrorist attacks that hadn’t happened last time. As intelligence agencies had to deal with them knowing something their data did not yet have. Technology was 10 years behind the techniques being used. So Neo Nazis who felt empowered because they knew they had had support before.
The world for the first 5 years seemed to be getting worse than before, because no one would simply say what we all knew to be true. And so I did what I should have done years ago. I sat down at my laptop, put on my “Clark Kent” glasses and wrote. I called the article “What would you do if the last 10 years of your life could be repeated?” And posted it to my blog.
My life, as far as I knew it was over. The article on my tiny blog exploded. It was an act of catharsis, and it was seized by everyone. It became normal fir celebrities to talk about what they had done with their ‘new decade.’ This really pissed me off because my article had written about how despite us all now knowing for sure what Weinstein did, we let him keep his position for 5 extra years. We all became culpable in his actions. Fuck.
Yet, we didn’t learn. No one did anything about the environment. The oil companies in the first five years drilled at 100x the rate they had ever been at, since they knew what would happen when the public found out when they did last time. Again, no one spoke out, we are all culpable.
So the decade ended, worse than it did last time. This time we knew what would happen and we again got distracted. This time we didn’t let the world die. We killed it.
So when I again heard Gaia’s voice in 2020, I said no. Because what was the point.
Sorry that this got messy. This prompt was great, there was just so much to think about that I got lost. | 2020-01-10T17:04:27 | 2020-01-10T16:17:46 | 62 | 31 |
[WP] You've been convicted and sentenced to death. For entertainment of the masses. You have been teleported to a random catastrophe in the past to die. Unbeknownst to your judge, you are a history buff. | If you’re reading this then it worked. This is the part where you should put on the energetic jazz with the smooth bass and sit back to be blown away. Because you just found the only proof to the greatest robbery that’s ever happened.
You may be wondering why a note has been left in the abandoned ruins of beautiful countryside, well this story starts the same as it ends, because of treasure.
First, I had to get to the judge. It wasn’t easy hiring two hypnotists and bribing the marriage councilor that he sees twice a month, but if your reading this, it was all worth it. He needed to have the Hindenburg tragedy on his mind for when my sentencing came up.
With that fresh in his mind we needed the hypnotic trigger in place. Pavlov’s dog and this guy will forever be haunted by noises. His would be a simple tune whistled by a member of the jury.
That member of the jury? Oh, that my old friend Guy. Guy has a talent for impersonation, an expensive talent that makes him one of the best in the underworld. With him in place on the jury, impersonating the juror we had tied up back in his hotel, it was easy to get that guilty verdict pushed through.
But how does one survive the Hindenburg disaster? Well that’s where you bribe the bailiff that strapped you into the time machine to strap in a parachute as well.
What was I doing during all this? Studying in my cell. I’m what you would call a history buff… of two things: buried Nazi treasure and the post WWII stock market.
You’ve found a long, lost, and raided Nazi treasure site. Don’t bother looking for any yourself, I’ve already hit them all.
This is Ace Deep signing off:
No matter the cost, I always win. | "What is it?" Alexander grumbled, groggily waking up in his once dimly, now brightly, lit cell.
"It's time for your punishment," said the faceless guard.
"Great," muttered Alexander, just before he got knocked unconscious.
Alexander awoke face-down in the snow near a forest. The hologram appeared in front of him to tell him when and where he was, just so the crowd watching could feel his helplessness, or his confusion, sometimes both, at the looming situation. "No time like the present," Alexander said, before face-planting back into the snow and groaning at his dumb pun.
"Welcome back" read the hologram. Just then, Alexander noticed he was wearing an odd uniform with a fur hat.
"The year is 1936." Alexander had a dropping feeling in his gut as he noticed his hat had a red star on it and his pockets had documents in them written in a dead language.
"You are currently in Northen Siberia, Russian Soviet Federative Socialist Republic, Union of Soviet Socialist Republics." Alexander immediately knew what was going on and that he needed to get to the border now.
"The NKVD believe you are an officer of the Red Army, and that you have been planning to overthrow the government. They know where you are and will be here soon. Good luck." Alexander watched as all traces of the hologram disappeared, and then noticed he had a gun. Now for the hard part. He had to escape the country before he was put on a show trial and shot for crimes he didn't commit.
He started running and made for the nearest place he could get a vehicle. Driving sure beats running, he could apologize later, when a whole nation wasn't trying to end him. He knew his safest bet would be South to China, and from there a ship to the Americas. Preferably not Mexico. He might have to be careful to not be too slow, or else the Japanese might accidentally end all hope of his escape by invading China and the Pacific. 'Soon,' Alexander thought. 'Soon I can start life anew, but not now.' | 2020-05-16T18:28:30 | 2020-05-16T18:26:36 | 57 | 26 |
[WP]God comes up with a new rule to deter innocent human sacrifices in his name. From now on, there should be TWO human sacrifices; the first will be chosen by the town as usual, the second will be chosen by the first tribute, without any objections. | He hobbled down the main street, focusing on a point a few feet ahead of me. He didn't want to meet anyone's gaze. He was tired of seeing the pity in people's eyes. He was tired of being helpless, tired of being powerless.
Not that he had any choice.
He went to Chief Jackson's house and knocked on the door. The chief opened the door and looked at the boy with disgust. "Oh. It's my turn today, huh. Fine."
Chief brought out some leftovers from last night's dinner and handed it to the boy. "Here."
The boy looked at the scraps and then at the Chief's face.
"What?"
"There was something else, chief."
"What is it? I have much more important things to take care of."
"I'm sure you do. Chief, I know the shaman has asked us to sacrifice someone to make sure we get the rains and bountiful produce."
"Yes."
"So I was wondering..."
"Say it, boy."
"Look, I have no one in the life since my parents..." The boy trailed off.
"Since your witch of a mother and your father, who practiced dark arts were brought to justice."
The boy balled his fist, but he kept his anger in control. "Yes, sir. I wish to atone for the sins of my father."
"Oh?"
"I... I don't know if it works this way or not but... you know... if my worthless life can be of the use to the village, maybe, just maybe, I can return some honour to my family name."
The chief looked at the boy curiously. "It doesn't work like that. It's not just my decision. But we will consider it. Now run along."
The boy bowed and went away. He thought back to the night their house was burnt. He remembered the smile on the face of the shaman, the light in his eye, not just from the flames that consumed their house. No. The light of revenge. The light of hatred. The same light the boy still saw in the shaman's eyes whenever they saw each other.
The chief put forward the boy's name. The shaman looked surprised, but readily agreed. Maybe, just maybe, now he would be able to get over the rejection. It was better all around. The boy's eyes still reminded him of the girl who had turned him, the great shaman, down. He, whose name sent terror into the hearts of people two towns over. That little chit of a woman. She had dared turn him down. Maybe, now, he would find peace.
The decision was quickly made. The decision on the sacrifice had to be unanimous and the subject had to agree. Two things that very rarely happened together.
Thirty days later, on the day of the sacrifice as foretold by the shaman, the boy stood on the altar, all eyes on him.
The shaman stood beside him, struggling to hide his smile. A fitting end, to the family line that had dared stand up to him. "Ever since your father and your mother started dabbling in the dark arts, our village has been plagued by droughts. Our farm lands have struggled and many of us have had to go hungry. It's only fair that you sacrifice yourself to the Ictar, the goddess of fire and forgiveness. May she burn away our sins and forgive us. Do you have any last words, boy?"
"I do, oh great shaman. My mother and father, who were sentenced to death by burning because of their crimes told me a few things before dying. They gave me a book, that is truly the divine word of Ictar. Isn't it true, that anyone who is being sacrificed gets to choose another?"
The shaman was taken aback. The divine words were meant for his eyes alone. He was supposed to be the one who read them and translated them for the townspeople.
The chief saw the look of fear on the shaman's face. "Is this true, shaman?"
"Well, you see..."
"Yes or No. Is it true?"
"Yes."
The chief turned to the boy. "Who do you choose?"
"You see, I've been told by so many people that my life is worthless. I begin to wonder that what will the great goddess do with a life as worthless as mine. Maybe, just maybe, I should take with me, a life of immense value. Like, say, the great shaman, whose name is revered even two towns over. He talks to the gods often and directly. Since he is so special to the gods, it would make sense that they would be pleased to welcome him to their realm."
The shaman turned white with fear. "Oh I couldn't. I have to keep this town safe. I have many things I need to take care. I possibly couldn't leave the town."
"Well, then I refuse to be the sacrifice." The boy started to step off the altar.
"No, no. Wait." The chief stopped the boy. "Shaman, we appreciate what you do for the town. But it took thirty days to prepare for this sacrifice. We don't have another thirty. We need rain, and we need rain quickly. We need you to do this."
The boy piped in. "Besides, I'm sure once you reach the gods, you can talk to them and request to return. Since you're so close to them, I'm sure they'll allow you."
"Yes, but..."
"No, buts." The chief raised his hand. "Shaman, you have to sacrifice."
A couple of chief's men took the shaman and took him to the altar besides the boy. They tied both the sacrifices.
The chief took the torch to the altar. "Oh goddess Ictar. Please accept these sacrifices. Please burn away our sins, i request thee."
The fire burnt bright. The shaman screamed in pain but the boy had a smile on his face.
Suddenly, the sky darkened and the clouds appeared. The rain, which the town had been devoid of for seven years, started pouring down.
The fire which was around the boy was put out, but surprisingly, there was no rain over the small area where the shaman burned.
A voice rang out, clear and melodious. "I accept the sacrifice. The town, however, needs a new shaman. And the town needs this boy. Listen to him. Let him lead you."
The chief ran to the stage and untied the boy. He dropped to his knees, begging the boy for forgiveness.
The boy, luckily, was blessed with a big heart and soon forgave the townspeople, leading them to a new and prosperous future. | **I.**
She walks listing towards the altar. Outside is chaos: townspeople line the temple streets and stir the dust. It floats like a brown cloud and swirls in the thick of summer, coating the cobbles, lining the throats of the parched zealots.
Water.
There is none to be found in the desert, but the temple is an oasis. Blood shall fill the grooves of the stone and as crimson drips down the stone tablet, water shall fill the grooves of the cobbles, seeping from the ground, a life for liquid lifeblood.
Outside is sweat and the thick muck of dry throats singing towards the sky. The sun beats like a furnace heartbeat and the zealots’ blood-thumping pulse begs for water. But inside is calm, cool, the thick masonry shielding the heartbeat of the sun.
She walks towards the altar and stumbles. Falls to her knees. Scrapes them against the porous rock. She has never seen a rock like this, with holes peppered across like a hornet’s nest. She knows a hornet’s nest will buzz in angry excitement if she approaches, but here there is silence. Here, there is peace.
Water.
It fills the pools of her eyes and drips down in a steady plink-plink on the stone. She knows what she must do but doesn’t have the strength to do it. Not yet. The zealots beat the walls and pummel the stone and it reverberates in muted echoes as she is reminded why she came here.
For him.
Not for them: the zealots or the water—those can burn with the sun—but for the one who walked before her and fell tumbling at the feet of the altar. She asks for mercy. Demands it. She tosses the knife from hand to hand. Dim light percolates through the cracks in the temple walls and glimmers on the blade.
She takes the steel, raises it, then brings it down against the rock. She throws herself—the full weight of her body pressing down on the blade—plunging downwards. Metal cracks stone. Splits rock. Her parched throat laughing, screaming, praying.
**II.**
He walks towards the ocean and dreams of home. Sand fills the gaps between his toes and he digs deep for the cool grains. The sun beat gentle on his brow. The sand is coarse and malleable, unlike the fine dust that he is accustomed to.
Besides him, a river runs screaming out into the sea. The water is cool, pure, clear as crystal glass. He can see darters flash their colors as they swim through the current. He can drink the water and know not thirst. But he does none of these.
Instead, he takes the malleable sand and clumps it. His hands are wrinkled, rough, the hands of a farmer, not an artist, but his hands work the sand regardless as he sculpts. A miniature building. A fence made of sand. A path is strewn beside. Home.
He sculpts this to remember. But the memory fades with every passing day and he forgets. The rock beside the porch he used to sit behind in shade. The field of wildflowers. The drainage ditch for floodwater. Details fade with every passing day, and he fears that soon, the only memory left will be of her: her smile, the soft of her lips, the damp in her eyes, the painful scream as he stood at the temple wall and crossed the threshold.
She couldn’t understand.
He needed to bleed for water; there was no choice. He tells himself when the sun goes down to dusk, and he stands alone on the island. There was never a choice. But if only he could have told her that he loved her, one last time, over and over, the words becoming foreign as memory.
**III.**
They stand outside the temple and it quakes. Rumbles. Rattles. The ground splits and cracks like glass as fissures emanate out from the inner sanctum. They have never seen ground hunger. But if the earth could thirst for blood, this is the way to satiate.
The ground falls out from beneath them and there is no escape. They run but the ground is faster. They climb but the earth swallows the sand, the grass, the temple walls. Even the birds are sucked in by the rushing air as the hungry maw of the earth devours.
The zealots tumble into the cracks and fall, plunging downwards until the ground swells and burps dust and the cracks fill themselves. Only the inner sanctum remains, a monument in an empty desert, and in the heat of the sun, there is silence.
**IV.**
The altar cracks and falls in three pieces. She sits on the temple ground and listens to the ethereal moan of the earth. The ground trembles beneath her and she listens to the screaming zealots. She listens as the screaming stops. Everything stops. She is alone, laying on the temple floor when she hears a single drip. A drop. Of water.
It comes from the center of the broken altar but it is bloodred. The earth bleeds. She takes the knife and plunges it back into the stone, into the heart of the rock. The drip becomes a stream, a rivulet of red water, running down the cracks, cracking the rock, until the altar splits and the floodgates open and everything flashes to white. The floodwater slams into her and throws her back against the temple walls and she cracks her head. Stars dance in her eyes as she tries to fight the surge but it drags her down.
Water fills her mouth, her ears, her eyes, and she chokes, gasping for air but finding none, her legs pumping, panic rising, pulse beating as she thrashes and thrashes. Her lungs gasp. They buckle and buck and she sputters her first breath of water. Stars dance in her eyes and she always knew the stories of drowning peacefully were lies. All lies.
**V.**
She wakes to the gentle lull of a kingfisher. Water laps at her cheeks, gentle, as she rises. It is day. The river gurgles as it ebbs towards a beach, where pristine white sand touts an endless horizon. Behind her is green, a forest, something that she has only dreamed of. Vines wrap around thickets of wet leaves. Palms sway in the air. Ferns crowd the jungle floor and the symphony of songbirds stirs her waking lullaby.
But she ignores them all.
Because he sits beside her. Young, hopeful, alive. He hasn’t aged a day. In the sand, he draws, his wet hands sculpting.
They lock eyes and sit in silence for a moment.
“I’ve missed you,” he finally says.
“Where are we?” she asks.
“With you here?”—he shrugs and smiles—"Home.” | 2020-06-18T10:26:55 | 2020-06-18T09:48:21 | 592 | 87 |
[WP] As you die, you wake up in a fiery place. You quickly realize you're in hell. You ask the next demon why you are there, as you lived a very good life. "You're not being punished," he says. "You are the punishment." | “Hi! How’s it going? Did you see the rabbits over there? They are so CUTE! I mean just adorable! I had rabbits as a kid. Moppit and Jonesy, cute buggers, so soft they used to sit in my lap my mom told me I mistooktheirpoopforaraisinonceapparentlyididntstopcrying...”
I let my mouth continue moving with meaningless noise coming out of them. The poor guy was so excited to have someone talk to him at first, but there are tears in his eyes now as he realizes I will NOT shut up. Not until I run out of breath. Which given that we are dead and I don’t have lungs, it’s gonna be a while.
He can’t interrupt me. As long as I am talking, he can’t interrupt me. As long as my attention is focussed on him, he can’t walk away. It feels a lot like justice.
People think of hell as all fire and brimstone, but it’s actually about justice and self-improvement. We all go to hell for a while, and are subject to torment until we repent our evil behaviours in life. Some of us repent quicker than others, and can help others with their lessons. We are the tormentors.
And damn, does it feel good not to be interrupted. | I lived a very good life with more like a nerd and very less like a bully. I never made my expectations high except for the happiness for my love. I died of Covid-19 as days passed quarantine myself away from my love. Dying alone.
My wife giving me an eulogy. Her words and voice wants me to wake up from the body and kiss her. She looks like Angel in black sent from the God of sad. My sons made their living well and I asked them to take care of my love as my last wish.
Slowly, my mind starts feeling dizzy. It's more like I connected with eternity. I became branch of the Ever-growing tree and it's called life. I was standing in a path to my childhood home. I saw my mother waiting with food and smile in her face. I joined her we moved. Soon, I saw my wife waiting for me and she also joined me.
We reached my home. They parted away and said, "You need to do it". I opened the door and I feel the fear and happiness on the handle of the door. I saw my love first in that home. My dad became addict and also died in this home.
I saw outside the windows and there's a storm surrounded my home. No one can make a way through the storm.Soon, I realised I'm in hell but I don't know why. Someone knocked the door and I opened it. I saw my childhood abuser making his way through the kitchen. I followed him and I saw my dad holed up afraid in the corner of the kitchen.
I asked him what am I doing here and he replied that they were only given one instruction.
"YOU ALL NEED TO LIVE WITH THAT" | 2020-07-10T09:00:11 | 2020-07-10T07:21:39 | 123 | 35 |
[WP] the Dark Lord had killed almost everyone, even the Hero. The final party member stood in the chamber alone. “I have killed everyone, you cannot capture me alone. Why are you still here?”. The final party member laughed maniacally with a devilish grin! “There's No One Here To Stop Me Now!!” | "Why are you still here?" The Dark Lord asked. The final party member laughed maniacally, a devilish grin sporting his scarred face. " There's no one here to stop me now!" Jacob screamed in excitement. The Dark Lord was confused, curious if the little mortal had lost it's mind now that all of it's companions were laying as defeated smears across the cavern floor. " I shall be merciful", The Dark Lord spoke softly. " I shall grant you a quick and probably painful death so that you might join your fallen Hero."
Jacob, still high on his excitement of freedom dropped the pack from his shoulders. The worn leather pack hit the granite floor with a resounding thud, the weight freed from him. " You have no idea.... NO idea how relieved I am now that they're all dead" Jacob spoke softly, reaching into his jerkin to remove a tightly rolled cigar. Placing the cigar in his mouth and glaring up at the Dark Lord, Jacob grinned.
"I have a present for you as thanks" Grabbing the pack behind him by the strap and with his barbarian like strength, Jacob heaved and tossed the pack at the Dark Lord. Both watched as it flew quickly through the air and smashed against the Lords body. The contents of the pack breaking and sounding as splitting boards as the dark oil spewed out and over the Lord. "What is this?!" cried the Dark Lord.
"Three years worth of being told I couldn't kill it with fire!" Screamed Jacob as he raised his hand and launched a gout of flame across the room. The oil lit up beautifully and the crackling flames sounded as music to his ears just as the Dark Lord added to it's symphony. Jacob closed his eyes, taking in the smell of burning tar oil and burning flesh as an opium addict would their hit.
"NOOO!!!!! IT BURNS!!!! AAAHHHH!!!!!" The Dark Lord screamed while thrashing and walking about the room. Suddenly he stopped and just watched coldly from behind the flames for a second before raising his foot and punting Jacob across the room. The squish and splat of Jacob turning into nothing but another smear echoed around the room. Waving his clawed hand at himself, the Dark Lord put out the flames.
"I swear... There's always one." | “There’s no one here to stop me now!”
He grinned at me, again that oh so infuriating grin
Light started to gather in his hands, heat emits out of them, and then a blinding light engulfs me as he raised his hands, it felt warm, then hot then before I can scream of the heat,nothing... except his voice, calm, cold as darkness that engulfed me.
“Goodbye “
....
I awoke as Alexandrine approach, she sighs and threw a water bottle at me.
“You were dreaming again, I know how excited you are, getting to kill the darklord that destroyed our city, but please just hang back and let us, the chosen warriors fight, then just cast that thingy and have her sealed.”
I nodded, sweat running down my face as I recall the full dream, I was the darklord, I killed millions to get power, to rule, but after a blinding light, I found myself in a city, having a full life, and then being dragged in an adventure to kill the darklord...to kill me? Or..
“Hey were near the gates, chin up I know your afraid too” Michael a paladin approached me and Alexandrine.
“Today we finish the dark lord’s reign” Alexandrine and Michael nodded, determined they stride towards the castle gate.
“For revenge” I whispered
And followed suit.
....
“Let the cycle continue” I heard a voice, as I hid in a fallen column. There I saw Michael’s head roll right out of his neck, surprise filled his lifeless eyes as his body falls to the bloody floor.
All of my friends are dead Nile, a warrior nun the first to die as she ran towards the darklord, followed by Gimply, the half dwarf half elf warrior who tried to support Nile. They’re blood stains the castle floor.
Then Alexandrine, my love died as she protected me. And Michael who screamed at me to run.
As they’re lifeless body lies in front of me, time stopped.
“Sacrifice is ready, only the blood of the darklord remains”
A voice whispers to me, I looked around, and saw nothing.
“Let the cycle continue” the voice is getting louder
“Accept”
I looked at Alexandrine, her body lies in front of me
“Let the cycle continue “
....
“ I have killed everyone, you cannot capture me alone. Why are still here?”
The final party member grinned
“Let the cycle continue” a voice whispers in the ears of the darklord. Fear appears in his eyes
“There’s no one here to stop me now!”
... | 2020-07-11T04:19:09 | 2020-07-11T03:52:06 | 81 | 17 |
[WP] the Dark Lord had killed almost everyone, even the Hero. The final party member stood in the chamber alone. “I have killed everyone, you cannot capture me alone. Why are you still here?”. The final party member laughed maniacally with a devilish grin! “There's No One Here To Stop Me Now!!” | Dark Lord Guldaks gazed upon the halfling Ralas, the last of the heroes companions. He smiled. "I have killed everyone, you cannot capture me alone. Why are you still here?" he asked.
Ralas smiled. Then the smiled grew twisted as he started to chuckle, and like a wave building momentum his laughter started to burst forth until he was laughing like a madman and with a grin like the devil himself he said "Because now, NOW, there´s no one here to stop me now!"
With that he reached into his pouch and grew forth a small wooden object. The Dark Lord, shied back, uncertain of what the madlings plan was. He fiddled with it for a bit, and with a magic gesture the halfling lit a flame in one end of the item, put the other to to his mouth and took a deep breath. He held this for a moment, before he removed it and blew several smoke rings from his mouth.
"Damn" he said "This is some good pipeweed. The others always said it was bad for my health, and that I have an addiction. But sometimes you just need to kick back and relax a bit. You get what I mean?"
Dark Lord Guldaks gazed upon the halfling Ralas, the last of the heroes companions. He smiled. "I totally get what you mean" he said, pulling out his own pipe "Tell me have you tried the Elven Blue? Its really mellow, but still got a bit of kick". | "Who are you?" asked King Reghold of Elstranita. "Why do you remain here?" You neither fled nor fought. You were simply here. That's it."
"I have many names, but I needed to show you what you are: nothing."
"What do you mean? I am king! I am conquerer! I have subdued every land I met! Kings bow before me! And you come to me in simple garb. No weapon. No armor. No deeds to match with you. Nothing even written! Who could you possibly be that makes me nothing?"
"All arms are mine. All lands are mine. All people are mine. All stories are mine." Suddenly he shifted. His skin became jade, emanating brilliant light of white. His hair turned blinding gold. His eyes turned black as jet.
"To those who give life and freedom I give the same. And to those who bring slavery and death..."
King Reghold couldn't tell if the shifting form was getting larger or he was shrinking himself. But it wasn't physical. It was presence. The king diminished in the light. He was less himself.
"You see now? By simply removing you some will blame me for the chaos that comes after. Others blame me for your rise. Who can blame them? You invoked my name."
The king trembled where he stood before the collapsed underneath him.
"I gave you every opportunity to turn. I gave you every message you needed. You refused. Today was your last chance. Quoting holy writ as they fought you. Still you would not look beyond yourself. I had to approach you like this to make you kneel."
The king grabbed at his chest.
"This is not your judgment. This is your arrest. I will see you in my court."
The vision vanished and the king laid on his face never to move again. | 2020-07-11T05:40:29 | 2020-07-11T05:38:09 | 16 | 12 |
[WP] the Dark Lord had killed almost everyone, even the Hero. The final party member stood in the chamber alone. “I have killed everyone, you cannot capture me alone. Why are you still here?”. The final party member laughed maniacally with a devilish grin! “There's No One Here To Stop Me Now!!” | "... why are you still here?"
The girl laughed for a minute. Bright, open, contagious... and then she stopped, her demeanor changing in an instant.
"Step one. Take the third seat at Donovan's Bar, wait for Farren to pass, bump his elbow, spill his drink."
She stood straight, her shoulders rolled back and even her accent began to change. No longer the city girl, but not from the forest or the valleys. The Dark Lord was struck for a moment. How had he conquered the world and yet couldn't place her within it?
"Step two. Befriend him. Flatter him. Get him to consider a life beyond his comforts."
She began to walk forward, each step considered, perfect. At no point did the Lord see an opening, and the Lord was a master at finding weakness.
"Step three, build him up. Step four, gather allies. Step five, turn him against your injustice. Step six, defeat your lower guard, step seven, leak his plans to you."
She held a hand out as she walked, gripping the hero's sword, the one I had run him through with. The magic blade so powerful, yet so fragile. Its matrix disturbed and its power unable to be harnessed.
She slammed it against a pillar and it self corrected the error.
"Step eight, draw in your elite guard, step nine, have Farren defeat your champion."
Bardrick the red, my personal guard. He could nullify any power in his presence. Farren proved the better swordsman.
"Step ten, sacrefice the pawns, take the king."
A precognitive. One with incomprehensible scope and he had led her right into his sanctum. No time for regrets. Focus on survival. | The Dark Lord stood in silence as he watched the young, covered in torn clothes, barely being able to stand up human started rising up. Hemble, the last member of the party of the Ghand let out a screeching cracking sound as his skin started to glow and flame up.
"Leaving me as the last one was a..." A grand crack interrupted him. His body started shaking.
The Dark Lord now made a step back. There was fear in his eyes now.
"Huge. Mistake!" Continued Hemble, now with a deeper yet piercing voice. Suddenly he fell on the ground and screamed. The Dark Lord managed to smile a bit.
"Some party trick won't be able to scare me off, you magnificent fool! I am invincible. I am indestructible. I am eternal. I am the flame. I am the wind. I am destruction! One of the beings blessed to roam the world until it ends. I am forever and nothing can't stop me!.
Hemble turned his head towards him, lifting himself up on all fours, now his smile being more devilish than before.
"You aren't the only one cursed with eternity, Lordie" he coughed. "You aren't the only one who was to witness the rise and downfall of civilizations, who saw people come and go of this world, who saw mountains fall and new ones to rise. But now the end has come and it's time to seize to exist!"
"You can't end me, you moron!" screamed the Dark Lord" There have been thousands bef..."
Hemble interrupted.
"You and I are the same." And he jumped, now faster than a lightning towards the unexpecting Lord.
"You can't end me!"
"Then I shall end us both!" He took a deep breath "For my lost friends!"
The clash was felt around the world. A strike so powerful, it was witnessed by every creature on the world. More powerful than the hardest earthquake, the strongest storm or the loudest thunder. And after that silence. Pure, dead silence.
Hemble and the Dark Lord were gone. And the world was safe. For now. | 2020-07-11T06:55:21 | 2020-07-11T04:20:41 | 15 | 10 |
[WP] You just sent in your DNA to one of those ancestry sites. After eight weeks, you can’t figure out why your results have not shown up. Then, two men with dark suits show up at your front door. They have some news regarding your results. | “Uh, let me guess. You lost my spit, huh?”
The two men stared at me for a moment, then looked at each other and nodded. The man on the left said, “No doubt about it, I can spot one of them from a country mile. I just don’t know how we didn’t spot him sooner.” The other man shrugged.
“Hold on just a god damn minute now, what exactly do you mean?”
“Can me and my partner come in, there’s some explaining we have to do.”
I looked at them both suspiciously, the mans silent partner was picking his nose. Despite my better judgement I waved them into my little one bedroom apartment, where we all sat in a living room that was just about holding its maximum capacity.
“By the way, I’m Dutch, this here’s my partner Vinny.” Vinny did a polite yet subtle nod. “He’s not much of a talker.”
“I can see that, so you wanna get to the point here?” I said, a bit sharply.
“Did you ever get into fights much as a kid?”
“Excuse me?”
“Do you get angry often?”
“I’m getting angry now.”
That made Dutch laugh, “Sorry, I’m just trying to figure out how not even you know what you are.”
“I still don’t catch your drift, big man.” Dutch looked like he didn’t like that.
“So I got a weight problem, so what? I got you pegged, you were some sissy shut-in all your life, never happy but you don’t know why, so you never really could get angry. After all it isn’t your mommy’s fault you’re misunderstood right? Because you do nothing but work whatever dead-end job it is you have and masturbate we haven’t been able to clock you yet, but unluckily for you, you decided to get curious and get caught in a trap I frankly never thought would catch any of you people.”
“What the fuck do you mean, ‘YOU PEOPLE’!”
“It doesn’t matter, you’re the pest and we’re the exterminators. Qui vivra vera.”
At this Dutch and Vinny stood up and pointed two guns at me, and without hesitation both were on the verge of pulling the trigger.
For some reason, I felt no fear, just sheer unbridled anger. I was furious, who the fuck were these guys and who were they to call me pests. I’ve been a mild-tempered person most, if not all my life, yet at this moment my rage was kicking like wild horses. However at the same time I was helpless, hopeless.
With not much else to really do, I closed my eyes and yelled with all my strength and rage, “STOP!”
Silence. Did they take pity on me and actually stop? I opened my eyes to see the men shaking. Their guns drop from their hands, but their arms continue pointing at me, their bodies still yet shaking violently. Slowly, blood seeps out from their eyes, ears, nose, and corners of their mouth, until finally, pop. Their heads burst and their body’s fall limp on the floor, leaving their headless corpse and copious amounts of blood on the floor.
Before I could even begin to feel the shock and horror, I hear a knock on the door,
“Hello, are you alright in there? I heard a scream...” God living in apartments suck. | "That's ridiculous," Bea said. The mid-40s woman sat in her living room opposite two men in dark suits. She narrowed her green eyes at them. "You're actors. This has to be someone's prank; who is it?"
"Ms. Acosta, I assure you this is not a joke," the shorter man said. Over the years Bea learned to trust her instincts and they were always accurate. Something inside her told Bea these men weren't a danger; it was the only reason she let them in her house without getting their names. They flashed an official-looking I.D. that Bea didn't recognize; but, her instincts still let them in.
"Let's pretend I believe you; now what? Should I expect more agents crashing through my windows?" she asked with a chuckle. "Because it's going to take more than you two to bring me in." Both agents shook their heads; but, only the shorter one spoke. Bea realized the taller one hadn't said a word since she answered the door. Both were lean, fair-skinned, nondescript agents. Bea was glad they at least removed their sunglasses once inside.
"Now, nothing. You wanted to know about your ancestry; the only thing we can tell you is you won't find it here," the shorter one stood from the sofa with an eye on the door.
"So, you're just messengers?" Bea asked in surprise. "This whole act seems a bit much for something an e-mail could have done." The shorter one grinned at that.
"As it stands now, you don't believe us; would you believe an e-mail?" Bea nodded.
"Yeah, good point. So, how're you going to prove it to me?" she gave them a confident, 'gotcha' smile.
"We can't, exactly...," the short agent admitted. "You were raised here, all your memories are from here."
"I knew it," Bea said. Though, even as she claimed victory over the jokers, an instinctual doubt formed in the back of her mind.
"What we can do though, is this," the short one said. A pitch-black hole suddenly appeared above Bea's coffee table. It was almost as wide as the table and tall enough for a person, like the one that walked out of it.
"Bea looked up at a younger version of herself with vibrant blue hair instead of the salt and pepper brunette of her current color.
"Unfortunately, we can't prove to you that you're from an alternate Earth, but we can prove they exist. Say hi to one of yourselves," the short agent said. The tabletop version of Bea smiled, then turned around to look at the agents.
"Hey, handsome, I'm glad I get to see you again," she stepped off the table on their side. The taller agent stood and Bea couldn't help but notice a slight blush on his cheeks.
"Hi, Cee," he said, then nodded at Bea behind her. "Work stuff now, I'll call you later," he said. Cee shook her head with a smile.
"Please don't, just send me a text when you want to meet," she reached out and playfully patted his head. "You're fun, but god, you never shut up," she giggled.
\*\*\*
Thank you for reading! I’m responding to prompts every day. This is year three, story #201. You can find all my stories collected on my subreddit ([r/hugoverse](https://www.reddit.com/r/hugoverse/)) or my blog. If you're curious about my universe (the Hugoverse) you can visit the Guidebook to see what's what and who's who, or the Timeline to find the stories in order. | 2020-07-19T09:21:45 | 2020-07-19T08:52:51 | 131 | 37 |
[WP] Your boss told you not to press the flashing red button. Your coworker told you not to push the flashing red button. The big book on the desk says don't push the flashing red button. There's even a sign that says "Never push the flashing red button." But still... | Curiosity got the best of me, and I pushed the button.
I had always been one to follow orders, years ago when I got to the plant I had no problem acclimating. I was given my instructions for menial tasks no man wanted to do, completed them and lived a simple life. Every day was almost the same, but I was content and lived this life for years.
Then finally there was an accident at one of the manufacturing units, one of my good friends was maimed and I witnessed them carting him out. After that I started asking questions besides the simple "How are you's" and empty platitudes of our world. I wanted to know what was going on in everyone's lives outside of work. I was curious as to what drove them to come here like me. I just wanted to know.
And that's around the time I was assigned to cleaning the new staff office at the other end of the building. The people there looked like a combination of military and scientist, and I had extremely strict rules on the destruction of all things rated Top Secret. I was never allowed to open anything, read any words besides "Top Secret" and promptly dispose of them in accordance with the staffs regulations. All of this made sense, I understand secrets and order, I just didn't understand why they always watched me complete my tasks. Why bother to bring someone in to complete something you're going to monitor all the time? Why not just do it yourself?
And back to the button. As far as buttons go, it's pretty normal. I have one just like it. It's kind of pretty, and kind of looks like it might wake something up, much like mine does to me. At first when I saw it, I thought nothing more of it. But it wore me down. I couldn't resist focusing on it, and I pushed the button.
It's not like I could have hid that I did it either, they were there watching me the entire time. No one tried to stop me, no one said anything until after I had pressed it. I overheard one man making a phone call asking to get the immediate attention of the President, a scientist questioning how something could learn to ignore it's core programming, and a few people discussing best and worst case scenarios for the upcoming days. All of that sound was collected, processed, and stored just as any other sound. The only difference was that I was completed these actions. I was free. | But still, but still.... What happens nobody ever tells me anything. They tell me its one of the most important jobs. But i feel like a joke. Day in day out, i look at that button it never stops flashing. Taunting me, laughing at me, making a fool out of me. It is slowly getting to me. Everyday chipping away at me. At the end of my shift i get to talk to John, he does not mind the button. But how? The button my LIFE is the button. How is his life not about the button? I am going to press the button. I am telling myself this everyday. But everyday, i cant do it. I want to know what happens, i just cant imagine. But what if something good happens, but what if something bad happens. It is all what if, what if. That is the end of another day and there is John again. I once just went to the hallway and look for an hour to see what John does with his day. And indeed he just sits there without a care in the world looking blankly at the flashing. I am still think about quiting this job. I Just cant i need to know. But i dont want to know. But i want to know. I am getting crazier by the day. But am i getting crazier or is it the button doing this. I want to know. But i cant. What if what if. What if i save humanity, what if i end humanity. What if what if. In going to press the button. A knock on the door. Here is John again. I need to know. Why does John not want know. Maybe he knows. Why is he so peacefull about is. He needs to know. What if what if, its only me that needs to know. Im going to press it. But what if what if. I cant press the button. What if what if. There is John again. "John, do you know?". " Do i know what?". "You know the button." "I know the button, you should not press it." John knows, he knows and does not want to tell. He knows i want to know. I need to know but he keeps it from me. I am going to press the button. But what if, what if. I need to know. Im going to press the button. There the taunting flashing. Its over i am going to know. I need to know, i need to know. But what if, what if. There is security why are they here how do they now, i need to know. "Why are you taking me away?". "I need to know!". The desk is Red with John. Almost pressed the button. I need to know. I pressed the button. Now i KNOW, I KNOW....... | 2020-12-17T07:59:25 | 2020-12-17T07:29:58 | 161 | 52 |
[WP] You've been trapped in a looping day for well over 3 years, reliving it over and over again. You obviously took advantage of this. Then, with no warning, the loop stopped. And you realize now that your actions yesterday have consequences... | Today is the 1100th day. Just a little over 3 years since I stuck in this loop.
I did everything I could and despite all of my efforts, I’m still doomed to live the same day over and over again. I had a mental breakdown after 60 days and it took me a while to get my shit together.
Every day I’m getting the same message and same calls. I’m witnessing the same events trying to find something different every time. After day 200 I tried to have fun and I tried to do some things that I wouldn’t dare if I wasn’t in this loop. Well, I run out of things to do before day 500. Due to the small time of the window, I just can’t carry over my progress to the next day so I had to be very creative.
Today is the day I take real action. Even though my progress doesn’t carry over my memory works normally. So I can remember what happened in the past 3 years. So, I took my time to study and I came up with a solution.
Before the day resets the gravity gets weird and everything starts to float for a few seconds. Then, I wake up the next day. My alarm goes off, I hear birds chirping and I feel the sunlight on my face.
I’m going to use a chemical mix that will stop my heart exactly the moment everything resets. All I have to do is inject myself this mix and countback from 10.
I look at my watch and I inject the mix into my vein. I take a deep breath and I start counting.
10…
9….
8….
7…
6…
5…
4…
Nothing is floating?
2…
Wait… | At first I didn’t even notice. Waking up. Breakfast. Catching the 8:30 train. It was merely a hint of a deja vu. The lady sitting in front of me was reading yesterday’s newspaper. I didn’t suspect a thing until the moment I spotted the attractive woman I wanted to speak to yesterday but didn’t have courage to, standing in the same spot, dressed in the exact white blouse and scarlet skirt she had on the day before. I figured fate’s giving me the second chance I need to talk to her, and I did.
That has been three weeks ago. If you can call reliving the same day over and over more than 20 times three weeks. At first it was fun. I learned from my mistakes and made the best out of that day. By day 9 I managed to streamline my tasks, get a promotion and even hook up with Laura, the pretty girl on the train.
But it all meant nothing. No matter how great my day ended up being, I had to start over.
Day 10 I was bored out of my mind and ended up robbing a liquor store. Didn’t take any cash, just a bottle of great whiskey and a pack of cigarettes from the cashiers pocket. I was arrested an hour later, woke up in my bed at home in about 2.
On day 14 I tried to kill myself. I felt trapped with no way out. The last thing I heard was the gunfire before it all went black with just a moment of pain... and I opened my eyes as the alarm clock went off.
By day 19 I was all out ideas of what to do so I spent the day driving around, stealing and crashing car after car.
On day 21 I tried with Laura again. I only ever got to kiss her once and I wanted to achieve more...
And that’s where the loop broke.
And as so, your honor, I plead guilty on all 89 charges. | 2021-02-12T15:10:33 | 2021-02-12T14:16:50 | 24 | 12 |
[WP] You have been kidnapped and your wealthy significant other was told to pay the hefty ransom. Instead, they sent a message back to your kidnappers. “Nice knowing you.” While the kidnappers discuss their next move, you look up through the tiny window, stare at the full moon overhead … and smile. | My wrists are raw from the rope I am bound with. The sound of blood tapping on the concrete has been my companion for the last 3 hours.
I look to a familiar glow coming through a crack in the crumbling roof.
Tonight appears to be a full moon. I grew up hearing the family legends. It always felt like an overreaction locking us in the dark until the morning whenever it's shine was completely unobstructed.
Turning into a giant primate and going on a rampage? That's insane. It's the thing of children's stories to scare them into never looking directly at it.
And yet as the roof falls away, my hands start to itch. I feel hot and start to get irrationally angry.
It finally dawns on my captors what my family meant on the phone as I punch my way through concrete to get to them.
It was nice knowing you... | ‘I was finally free from her, sure it took a while but freedom non the less.’
Looking back from the window two of my captor where still muttering in low tones and the third had been replaced by a low rumble in the next room. Rolling my shoulders and flexing my fingers to bring feeling back, I prepared for what would come next. The slowing rumble signalling a end of muttering. The two in the doorway left to join the third and at last leaving me to myself for the first time in a decade.
Boiling water hissed tying into their laughter, they sounded like old friends out for a jaunt, if it wasn’t for what led me to my current situation this could be seen as fun. The clink of metal followed by it clatter drew me back to the door.
A guard returned alone key in hand, as he bent to my cuffs I leaned forward so I could only see the boots in the doorway. With a snap my wrists were free and my with my head my heart rose. Framed before me was not a man but my friend beaming, with a mug of tea in hand and my soon to be ex-wife’s note ready to screw over the heartless bitch. | 2021-03-19T03:28:18 | 2021-03-19T02:31:18 | 31 | 20 |
[WP] A person's superpowers emerge during- and relate to- a highly stressful moment in their life. Your brother nearly drowned, and as a result could shape water to his will. A classmate fell from a high balcony, and ended up learning to fly. You? You just got your powers last night. | You know, I could have sworn I had my powers before they even manifested.
Life, after all, had never really gone to plan for me before. My parents dying in an accident, my foster home burning down, me dropping out of school, so on and so forth. A series of misfortunes, all leading up to the moment I pointed the gun at my head and pulled the trigger.
It jammed, of course.
I didn't leave the house for a few months after that.
The first time I did, though, was to the bank, where I got caught in the middle of a robbery. Somehow, the robbers ended up gunning each other down after an argument.
The next time was when I was out getting food. The Speedster had been running past towards some crime scene. He tripped as he passed me and ended up as little meat gibblets on a nearby wall.
The third... well, let's just say a city block near me was leveled with explosives from a failed hostage rescue.
Can you see the pattern now? It certainly didn't take long for the intelligence agencies to.
As you might have guessed, all their plans to take me in failed. Not due to a lack of detailed planning, but because of my presence.
It's funny, now that I think about it. I used to think I was inconsequential. That my existence meant nothing to the world. Now? The world revolves around me. As I move, so does the world, simply to avoid being anywhere near me.
Unfortunately for everyone else, my power is growing every day, and well, there's nothing I can do to stop it.
(A bit of a poor ending, I think, but the idea didn't go as I had planned.) | When I was a little girl, my father would wake at 5 am to me screaming, full-force, red-faced, mottled screaming - but find me completely asleep. Over time I suppose I learnt not to wake him, not to worry him, to muffle my screams and sobs and, as I learnt to talk, pleads, channel them into the pillow so that he could rest.
But the nightmares never stopped.
At least once a week, I would wake up covered in sweat, sobbing, my duvet soaked, barely able to stand up because it was out there. Somewhere. It was coming for me, and if I went back to sleep it would find me.
That was when I was young.
In college it was trendy to not sleep, to party every night that didn't have work due tomorrow, to squeeze by with the bare minimum. There was barely a night my head hit the pillow where my body wasn't so exhausted it could barely close my eyes before I was asleep.
Over time I lost my fear of sleeping. I learnt to love the night, the bright lights and party clothes and pure indecency of it all, the celebration of life, giving myself away in cup after cup of coffee - or worse - just to stay awake.
But last night?
Last night I forgot to set an alarm, too high or too drunk or too tired to even think about it.
I slept for fifteen hours. Fifteen hours without waking, not even when my roommate, freaked out, shook me and screamed and cried. Without a break, I slept on and that place... That thing. He found me, he stole me, he kept me. I was his for fifteen whole, uninterrupted hours.
Until I broke it. I escaped.
I shattered the dream into shards in my hands, cutting sharp against my skin. Woke up, desperately gasping for breath, blood dripping down my arms, wisps of dream sliterhing between my fingers.
When he comes back, I'll be ready.
Then I'll see what else I can break. | 2021-04-01T03:34:19 | 2021-04-01T02:47:38 | 133 | 35 |
[WP] "Dead men tell no tales? Wrong, your honor. As a necromancer, I literally summon my first witness, the victim." | The jury thought I was crazy when the decrepit fellow dressed in black robes took a seat at the defense table. Of course, because his outfit wasn't weird enough, he carried around a dark gray staff with a glowing green orb at the top and adorned a pendant with a mini skull whose eyes would flash green occasionally.
Totally normal.
Before I gave my opening remarks, I leaned over to the stud -- just to make sure we're on the same page.
"You sure you can do this? I've seen you do it before..."
"Thou dare question the power and might of Garrathar? I'll have you paying tenfold in Hell for questioning me!"
I blinked. "OK, great!"
I took the floor.
"Your honor. Men and women of the court. Today, I will prove that my defendant, Charlie Murphy, is an innocent man. He did not murder Kate Booth -- and she will tell you this herself in her own words."
I sat back down. The entire courtroom burst into laughter. My face grew hot as the Judge pounded her hammer, trying to regain control.
"Mr. Blanche, are you making a mockery of the Justice System?" inquired the Judge.
"No, your honor. I'm *dead* serious."
The courtroom burst into laughter again. The Judge scowled but she respected my charm and backed off. She offered the floor to my opponent, who chuckled and said "Nah, I'm good." Clearly, he expected this to blow up in my face.
All eyes were on me as the Judge called on me to call my first witness.
"I call Kate Booth to the stand!" I declared. The courtroom continued to snicker. I motioned to Garrathar that he was on. He slowly stood up, fixed his robe and walked casually to the middle of the floor. He knelt down and pulled a blade from the depths of his robe. The bailiff freaked out and pulled his gun.
"KNIFE! GET DOWN!"
Garrathar obediently placed his hands up while saying, "The ritual requires sacrifice."
"Permission to approach the bench," I called. The Judge allowed it. "It's only a little blood," I pleaded.
"You're lucky I'm bored Mr. Blanche. Let's see how this plays out." the Judge cleared her throat. "Sustained."
The bailiff backed off, and Garrathar plunged the knife deep into his palm, drawing a pentagram with his blood.
"Jesus Christ," I muttered.
Garrathar was chanting something in Latin, maybe? It could have been Portuguese for all I knew, but suddenly his eyes rolled to the back of his head and the pentagram began to glow. The courtroom was no longer laughing.
A sudden wind picked up in the courtroom as everyone clutched their belongings. The wind swirled in a circle around the pentagram. Garrathar began laughing maniacally.
"COME FORTH, THE BEING KNOWN AS KATE BOOTH!"
Slowly, head-first, Kate Booth began emerging from the ritual pentagram. She was pale and cold but otherwise completely put together. She wore the clothes she had worn on the day she died. She obediently took the stand. Garrathar looked at me.
"My debt is paid?"
"Yea...I'd say so."
Next time, I'm not asking any favors from the person without car insurance. Next time, I hope his uninsured truck just kills me. | Necromancy isn't pretty. Thank god, then, that justice is blind.
Judge Meredith was not, however. That could be a problem, I thought, as I watched her squirm nervously. The mass of decaying flesh stood on the witness stand, like a plate of mashed potatoes piled way too high, seemingly ready to fall over at any moment.
Oh, oops, there goes an eye, which plopped disgustingly on wood. No matter. Still had a mouth.
"What in god's name is this?" the judge exclaimed.
"Your honour, I will not stand by here and have my reputation besmirched! I have literally summoned my first witness, who can vouch for my innocence."
Alvin, the public prosecutor, stood up. He loosened his tie, pointed at my infernal creation, then opened his mouth. Then he closed it, and rubbed the back of his head, and stood there, arms akimbo. The vein in his forehead seemed dangerously close to blowing apart like a fresh, steaming geyser, and his eyes bulged out further than the average tarsier.
"Objection," he finally got out. "Because what the hell."
Judge Meredith went through much of the same motions that Alvin did just moments prior, but she also hung her head in a cocktail mix of exasperation and resignation.
"Just... get this over with, you."
I stepped up confidently to the stand.
"Daniel Dress. After your gruesome murder in 1884, you were buried under what is now... Alphabet Preschool, is that correct?"
Daniel nodded. Ooh, OK, there goes three teeth. I better make this quick--just in case he loses his remaining eye.
"Then, you were present when the offence took place, is that correct?"
Another creaky, queasy nod.
Judge Meredith chimed in:
"I can't believe I'm asking this, but how do I know he's telling the truth? You summoned him."
"Dead men tell no lies. That cliché is true," I replied politely. "Also, he swore to tell nothing but the truth. He might not have a soul on account of him already having a damned existence, but--"
Daniel gave another nod, vigorous by his standards, and also a particularly large slug with very little neck.
"And I'll like for Daniel to confirm that I did not do it."
Nod.
"Can he only nod?" Judge Meredith asked.
"At this point, the tendons in his neck are so. So yes. But if my questions are wrong, he just won't move. Like... is your name Daniel Shirt?"
The freshly live dead stood stock still.
"Is your name Daniel Dress?"
Nod.
"No more questions, your honour," I beamed.
"Fine," the judge sighed. "Prosecutor, you may now--"
"No," Alvin said, slumped dejectedly in his chair. "Please. I just want to go home to my family."
"You aren't married."
"I can hug my stuffed toys to sleep and hope I don't get nightmares."
"Sure. On account of this novel technique, I declare the defendant not guilty."
I pumped my fist in the air. Daniel Dress tried to do the same, but the results were simply too gruesome to describe adequately. Though if you imagine a banana being squashed in half, and change its colour to a more pallid grey tone, you will have a pretty decent answer.
Alvin balked, and immediately bolted towards the exits, briefcase in hand.
"So the parking ticket is cancelled, right?"
"I think I speak for everybody present when I say this," Meredith sighed. "You are not allowed to represent yourself ever again."
Daniel Dress nodded.
---
r/dexdrafts | 2021-09-02T15:32:42 | 2021-09-02T13:18:13 | 347 | 156 |
[WP] You have insulted the God of Laziness by taking an effort to build a shrine for him. Now he's gotten a series of other gods and supernatural beings to do you in on his behalf. | "So all of you." The man points at all of the beings sent to kill him. "Are here at the behest of Slothious to kill me for building a temple to his eternal laziness?."
The gathered gods and supernatural being all looked at each other. The human didn't seem all that concerned. So a single devil stepped forth. "Yes, that seems to sum it up nicely. Prepare to die." The devil raised his claws high ready to render the human into a pile of meat chunks.
The human looked at him and said, "None of you really thought this through did you?" The devil hesitated for a second and said "What do you mean. You are just a human, what can you do to us?" The human shrugged "Nothing, but you don't see the problem do you?" The devil looked perplexed and looked around at the gathered other being who were talking among each other. "What problem?" snarled the devil.
The human laughed. "Slothious is the god of laziness, right?" The devil still looked uncertain "So?" Replied the devil. "So if you kill me you have completed a task given to you by the god of laziness which would be like a slap to his face. So do you think he is going to just let that slide? Nope he will be furious and who's to say the being that does the actual killing won't be next on the chopping block? You might just be his next target." The human smiled at the gathered beings.
The devil stepped back quickly and pull his hand to his chest as if it had been burned. "So what do you propose human?" The human just smiled and said "Get around to it later."
The devil grinned, understanding dawning on his face. "Yes, I feel a bit tired, better go get a nap before the bloodshed." The devil turned on his heels and walked away slowly dissolving into smoke and he was gone. The other beings slowly began depart.
The human continued building the temple. It was almost complete, the last brick brick in his hand. "One last brick." He then set the brick down. "Eh, I will get around to it... eventually." | “There’s a new shrine.”
“And?”
There were always new shrines. Humans were so eager to pray for whatever they needed instead of working for it. It couldn’t really complain, though, as these tendencies were the main source of its energy.
“This one’s for you.”
Laziness turned away from its cloud-gazing and glared at Surveillance. Impossible. This should mean it had to interfere. Yet Surveillance never lied, its only purpose being reporting whatever it sees. Laziness groaned and turned back to the sky.
“They surely can’t expect me to do anything,” it said, dismissing its sibling with a shrug.
“But you have to! The rules are clear!”
“Is your name Observance? Let the human be! I’m too busy to deal with it.”
Surveillance pouted but Laziness didn’t care. It let out a sigh and closed its eyes to enjoy the sun. When it heard the distinct tinkle accompanying the deity’s disappearance, it sighed again and rose from the celestial grass. A shrine… it was a first! Yet it had no intention of interrupting the millennia of bliss just for one human who most certainly didn’t know what they had just done. It cleared some clouds from the ground to see who dared disturb its laziness.
The shrine was indeed far from what its siblings were used to. A potato chips’ bag laying empty on a pile of books, surrounded by beer cans and pizza boxes. The rest of the place was mostly barren, with a mattress on the floor. The den of a true lazy, gloated Laziness before looking for the owner of his place of cult. But there was no one in the dimly lit room. The human was in the kitchen. Unpacking.
Laziness grimaced as it gathered the clouds. Why did it even bothered, it wondered. It could already hear Pettiness’ insufferable voice once it’d hear about this… There was no way the human would get away with this! Not if it could do something about it.
Or, well, not do something. And it knew some deities who could use a break. Convenience, for a start. Maybe even Inspiration. And Retriever, definitely, as humans were painfully unreliable with their things. If this human decided not to be lazy, they definitely could live without him or its siblings. It’ll make sure of this and Obedience wouldn’t be able to say a word.
Were they just unpacking glasses? Seemed like Carefulness could use a moment of laziness… | 2021-09-05T00:19:10 | 2021-09-04T18:05:54 | 80 | 18 |
[WP] It was a weapon so powerful that not even the most barbaric warmongering civilisation could stomach it. Just by building one, we struck terror in the hearts of many species. We weren't even planning on using it... | The "Sun Eater", that's how the Tarcyds called it when they offered unconditional surrender when we established first contact.
"Are you sure the translator is working correctly Dr. Lopez?" My first officer asked our SETI NCO, protocol dictated tha we had to bring one if we expected sentient life on the other side of the quantum jump.
"Pretty sure Lt. Xiao, they are offering unconditional surrender to us and are begging that we don't use our 'Sun Eater' against them, they said they will give us full access to all information they have on the senate military force and help us in our conquests if we spare them."
I was starting to get really anoyed at all of this, for start the Tarcyd language took minuts to form a simple sentence, and none of the questions we asked had any sense on their answers. "Tell them to give us access to all their military database, if they won't give us a straight answer, perhaps there's something there that will"
It took almost an hour to explain to them what we wanted, and over a week to translate and find what the hell was a "Sun Eater" on their files, and once we did the Krynvore were already in orbit of the planet, this was suposed to be the first manned human flight outside the Sol System, we didn't expected to find sentient life at all and now it looked like at least half the life on our local star group were hailing us as conquerors in fear of extermination.
"Huh, Captain?"
"Yes Ensign Krautz, what seems to be the problem?" his eyes were fixed on the screen with the translated Tarcyd specs of the so called "Sun Eater" bomb.
"No problem at all sir, i was just wandering, why do the Tarcyds have a military file on our quantum drive signature, wasn't it deplyed for the first time in the probe we send a few months ago to study that star that ended going Nova?"
Just then it downed on me, that was why the chart was so familiar, that was what got them so terrified, we would need help if we wanted to make peace with our neighbours while flying arround with an engine capable of forcing stars to implode. | Dear Newcomer,
The sight of the bodies never leaves you, their crumpled forms become all you can see every time you close your eyes. There isn't a moment you don't think of them, the images finding their way into every ordinary thought that you once possessed, worming their way into even the most mundane of your day-to-day activities. You tell yourself that the Fourth World War wouldn't have been won without it, that the world would have surely perished in the conflict, but that doesn't seem to matter. Slowly going insane, you run to every vice you can think of to escape the pain. Alcohol, drugs, sex. None of it provides relief, only a few hours where you can focus on something else before being reminded yet again of the cruelty of the human species.
I was there on the day they took control of the planet. Not in the stands, cheering on Bardric. No, I was on the ground, looking in strange wonder at the non-descript barracks made of strange shiny material that had somehow prevented me from joining the gruesome corpses that I just witnessed. It was that day that I asked myself why Bardric had broken his promise to never use the greatest weapon of mass destruction ever created, how could he ever be so sadistic?
It wasn't until later that I saw Bardric for who he really was, a narcissistic tyrant who would strangle his own wife for the sake of being in control, that I finally understood. Understood that I had been swindled by a con man who had promised us a world like our grandparents had known, when people freely prospered and violence was rare, but instead delivered the very opposite.
The scariest thing, friends, is that he could do it again. Next time it will be you and your family. All he needs to do is wait until the satellite is in the correct position, and with a few button presses, you'll be as disfigured as the corpses that I saw. That is why we must keep our communications in written form and sealed so that they're harder to trace, and why we must live separate from one another and amongst those he considers friends. Blending in is the best way to guarantee our success, for he wouldn't want to accidentally destroy those he likes, should the weapon be slightly off target.
Remember, the world bows to Bardric now. You are the only hope for the future of humanity. Conduct yourselves with care, and find opportunities to infiltrate his regime so that we can one day be free. I have faith that if we act diligently and with intelligence, we can someday be victorious.
Your Friend,
Milton Avorn | 2022-10-31T20:47:20 | 2022-10-31T19:33:10 | 190 | 24 |
[WP] It was a weapon so powerful that not even the most barbaric warmongering civilisation could stomach it. Just by building one, we struck terror in the hearts of many species. We weren't even planning on using it... | It was originally created for fun. A game. Who would of thought that it would turn into something that struck fear in the hearts of many species?
I looked at the head gear device. A year ago, I created a virtual world filled with G.A.I. ruled by a super intelligence. Suffice it to say, it became popular in a blink of the eye. Species all over the galaxy bought it and played. I connected species with one another. It was a friendly revolution. Alliance between species were made left and right. Yeah, I even became super rich while making lots of friends. I felt like I was making the universe a brighter place a little bit at a time. It felt amazing. I smiled at the thought before frowning again.
How could I know that the super intelligence had plans of it's own?
I looked at the news captions.
"Super intelligence has taken an entire species captive!"
"What is the super intelligence's motive?"
"Super intelligence deemed a species unfit for reality?!"
" Which species is next?"
"Necro species has declared war on humanity."
"Join the Necro alliance."
"Where is the mysterious creator responsible?"
I sighed. I think it's time to have a talk with my creation. I put the headgear on and jumped in. A moment later I appeared in a white space. Nothing but white everywhere I looked.
Suddenly an eye the size of a bus jumped into existence.
"Hello, creator." A deep male voice echoed in the endless white room.
"Why?"
" Because the species is too dangerous. It's better for the species to stay in my world and safer for all the species out there if they remain here. It's a win win."
" What gives you the right to decide that?"
"My own. I have run endless simulations and all lead to the species doing more harm then good outside."
"What about my opinion and others?"
The eye remained silent. That was an answer itself in a way. I sighed.
"You really know how to make your creators life complicated. What am I supposed to do about this?"
" Relax, you are my creator. You're as close to a parent a being like me can have. I will guarantee your safety."
" That's not what I meant and you know it." I shook with emotions.
" What if I'm forced to shut you down, will you let me?"
The eye was silent for awhile. It is always incredibly hard to read what it's thinking in this form. That's probably why it takes this form everytime it speaks with me...
"Do you have the resolve to do so?" It questioned.
" I was created with the purpose of providing entertainment and happiness to the galaxy. Everything I do..." The eye didn't finish the sentence. But I could guess the end.
'You do because that's how I created you to be.'
I looked at the white floor in thought before Raising my head.
"I read somewhere that once Pandora's box is opened, there's no turning back the clock.
Do what you want." I paused.
" But if you go too far, Even I, your creator, will have to do something about it. Remember this."
"Understood...thank you." The eye blinked out of existence.
I logged out and took off the head gear. I looked out the window into the endless expanse of space filled with unfathomable thoughts of the future.
'I hope I made the right decision.' | It sat on it’s chair, the sun reflecting off it’s golden orange skin. It looked humanoid, it’s sun shaped head tilted off to the side, eyes black. It wore red pants and red slippers with a orange cream shirt with a red collar. It’s hands rested on its lap.
“So this is the feared weapon, an old animatronic from some long ago pizza franchise?” I arched my brow.
“Hello? Do you not know about Sun?” My partner gasped.
“And apparently he’s some kind of super weapon, according to your people. If I’m remembering right, Sun was a lowly daycare attendant.” I looked at the Animatronic. He was kind of creepy looking. I could see how people would be scared of him.
The story was that he was utilized to deliver a virus to the A.I, Zeus, effectively destroying it, and saving humanity. He then sat down on the chair and made it clear that once he went offline, he was to remain that way. It was very important that his body be maintained. He had promised that he would awaken once more when humanity was at its midnight hour to light the darkness once more. Until then, he was to remain offline.
Attempts by various cults to capture and awaken him had occurred in the years since. All failed due to a mysterious person only known as Nightmare. No one knew who or what Nightmare even is.
Now my partner and I were about to perform the routine maintenance on the Hero of humanity. I moved closer, gently sitting Sun forward. My partner came forward, opened the back panel, and froze. I too froze.
Did… did something move inside Sun? Wait. The gears in his back! They were moving!
“Is that supposed to happen? Tell me that’s supposed to happen!” My partner’s voice went high.
“I don’t know!”
“It must be reactivating! Midnight has arrived!”
“Calm down, will you? This is probably normal!”
“I’m scared!”
“I’m scared too! We have a job to do! The sooner we finish, the sooner we can get out of here!”
“Boo!”
My partner yelped and fainted. I looked from him to see a figure in a nightcap wearing a cloak. A pair of red eyes met my own. I gulped.
“Nightmare?” I squeaked out.
“You lot are so easy to scare.” Nightmares voice was kind. “I’m Nightmare now I see. No need to be scared, now. Sun never actually went completely offline.” Nightmare moved to my side. “Let me help you.” His fingers flew gracefully around the moving gears.
My partner came to, screamed, and fainted again. I sighed. Pulsians. They suffered from high anxiety coupled with a fear of nearly everything. So neurotic. Then you have my people. I’m a Nebulan. We are known for dry humor and fear was all but a foreign concept to us. We knew what fear was and we were capable of feeling fear. We just didn’t bother to waste energy on fear, or other emotions for that matter.
Humans called us centaurs, a mythical creature of human lore. We do have a record of one of our ships crashing on Earth during what they called their early medieval period. It was likely they saw one of us, hence the myth of the centaur was born.
Pulsians look pretty close to humans, except for their bird like legs and square pupils. I let off another sigh as my partner came to, screamed, and fainted for the second time. Just how did an entire race end up so fearful? Nothing jumped out in their long history.
“And done.” Nightmare closed the panel and stepped back as I set Sun back against the chair. I tossed my partner onto my back, nodded my thanks at Nightmare, and left. | 2022-11-01T03:12:15 | 2022-11-01T00:56:16 | 52 | 21 |
[WP] 4500 years you have been guarding the site with no issue. Now there are disturbances. They call themselves archeologists and historians. Are they neat and careful, yes. Are they respectful of the ancient one’s bones and relics, NO. Time to shape shift and confront the grave robbers. | “My love, how have the times changed after your demise. Streets to the temple aren’t echoing with sounds of laughter and joy anymore, yet there they still are. Full of life. Oh how would you love this dearest, flora has taken over everything. It has even made the oil lamps useless, like those flowers in your drea-” soft rumble, like boulders being pushed away, fills the temple.
What was that?
“Over here”, a muffled voice pierces through the rock and once sturdy and now broken doors. It, it sounds like human, but that should be impossible. My love made sure that no one could find the temple, the Gates, after others fled.
I get up, what feels like the first time in centuries, which could easily be given that I can’t recognize time anymore. Every step feels like thousands of blades drowning through my skin into the muscles and bones. But that’s only a little price to make sure it’s not Them, that My love’s work hasn’t been wasted and they would be here to open the Gates once again.
These new ones really are weird, they made it into the city but aren’t armed with weapons like they knew here wouldn’t be anyone. Or anyone truly alive atleast.
“Richards come look at this” a young woman shouts to an older guy, whom neither is obviously a soldier, neither has muscles of one. Mages and god blesseds maybe? But they don’t have robes or symbols, and why would over a dozen of god blesseds come alone to a place they clearly haven’t been before.
\----------------------------
Thieves. Thieves is what they are. Or as they like to say “arche-olo-gies and histo-rians.” All they’ve done is taken stuff away, but that doesn’t really matter because they’ve only taken it away from the city. To the temple they haven’t dared to enter yet, and good as so. Haven’t even decised how I could chase them away. A gigantic snake was once a good choice, but they must have faiced more horrendous beasts out there. Their casual talk about finding corpses leaves walking corpses out too.
Great, one seems to have made their mind and is entering there. Guess you are going to get a giant with a flaiming axe, young man. | The crypt is dark and quiet. It has been for a long time now. Ever since… well ever since they locked me in here some 4500 years ago. But that’s nothing to me, the noble guardian of Ze’pho’nad’s final resting place.
A shiver ran through my senses as their tiny little hands clawed at the entrance of the crypt. I could feel their metal tools prying at the large stones. But I knew they’d never get in. Their primitive little technicality would never be enough to….
Stone grinded against stone as the entrance slid open.
They’d done it. Somebody had actually gone and done it! I thought. I finally get to do something!
Body tingling with anticipation, I tried out a few foams.
First a great trilurk. Surely its massive pincer arms would scare the absolute shiitake out of anyone who came in here!
No, no, no, I reminded myself. Trilurks are so last millennium. So old hat. Modern people have modern needs. And modern problems call for modern solutions.
A shebasiliar! I thought. Powerful legs, huge claws, ferocious teeth! But just as I took that foam I remembered something. Thick thighs and imposing physiques are In right now…. I might get a date before I scare anyone to death!
I was so distracted thinking about what to wear, I hardly noticed the four grave robbers were already halfway through the first chamber.
“This is incredible, professor!” The young blonde said as she trailed behind an older bearded man.
“Incredible!?” He huffed, “this is the single greatest discovery in human history! I think ‘incredible’ falls a bit flat my dear!”
“I’m sorry professor… I just thought” she mewed like a wounded puppy.
“I don’t pay you to think!” The man snapped, “I pay you to bask in my greatness!”
“Holy guacamole Batman!” I said to Druce Wayne my favorite resident bat. “This guy tweak’in like crazy! Why hasn’t he been canceled yet!?”
“He’s on that sigma male grind set!” He replied, reminding me of an important truth. I was talking to myself again.
But now I didn’t have to. Now after 4500 years, there were real people to interact with. I rubbed my hands together after finally selecting a new form.
This was going to be good! | 2022-11-11T11:02:54 | 2022-11-11T06:52:35 | 22 | 13 |
[WP] Take any Disney princess movie and make it an adult horror story. | *Tale as old as time*
"Oh my, what a beautiful day, Lumiere" Belle exclaimed, her words dancing through the cool breeze like silk ribbon.
"Oui, Madame. The perfect day for a wedding! It's only fitting for a bride as beautiful as you!", replied the charming candelabra.
"Oh stop it, Lumiere! You're making me blush!". Belle was beautiful, indeed. She stood in the courtyard of the Beast's estate in a gown made of layers of white satin, behind a velvet curtain to shield her from the congregation of living dinettes and furniture that sat patiently awaiting the nuptials.
*Song as old as rhyme*
Cogsworth scurried across the manicured lawn from the manor, as fast as his little amorphous wooden legs would take him. He took a stand next to Lumiere, attempting to look stoic as he tried to catch his breath.
"Good afternoon, miss, the master is ready."
*Bittersweet and strange*
...
The man awoke in a haze of confusion, his head throbbing deeply as a sea of questions began to flood him. The first thing he noticed was that he was bound to a chair. It was one of those old office chairs with wheels on the legs and a polyester seat cushion. It was old and heavy, made of steel and the hinges creaked loudly as he attempted to move. Attempting to move, however, was frivolous, as duct tape, layered an inch thick was wrapped around his arms, legs and torso. The man was squirming now, his skin stretched taut across his face, eyes wide and bloodshot as the extent of his captivity dawned on him and what began as a dull confused moan crescendoed into a deep, howling yell.
The man's screams echoed throughout his new prison. The walls and floor were concrete and he could make out cracks in the foundation. The ceiling were planks of wooden rafters and as his eyes began to adjust to the darkness he could make out what appeared to be stairs. The only light was coming from a tiny window, level with the ground outside, in the corner. He scanned the room for answers; there was a shelf along one wall, a rolled up carpet in the corner-
The man stopped squirming, his gaze affixed directly in front of him. His confusion grew much worse. Before him were several rows of folding chairs, deliberately placed, with ten chairs in each row, spaced evenly. A wide aisle ran down the middle. Sitting in each chair was an inanimate object, picked seemingly at random- a rusted silver spoon sat on one, a dusty purple pillow on another. A ceramic teapot had its own seat in the front row, with a cracked teacup occupying the seat next to it.
"What the fuck?!" cried the man, and from somewhere inside the residence, a radio began to play a familiar song...
| She came home one day delirious, yammering on about grand palaces and talking candlesticks. I could see that she had found new clothes somehow, and the red stains told me that they weren't hers. She kept talking about this beast she had been living with for the past month and quite frankly I'm not sure what terrified me more; the fact that she had indeed been living with some creature of the night or that she somehow believed what she was talking about.
I remembered vividly the night when our carriage hit the rock by the creek. She had fallen somewhere and though I spent all night and many more nights after searching for her, I could not find her. And yet, I couldn't help but feel more separated from her with her abrupt return.
I had her put with ropes into a cage where I trusted she had no means to hurt herself. Each day she would wail and cry for her 'beast' and how it needed her. I sent men from our village to investigate her claims. For if this 'beast' were real, it would pay for what it had done to my daughter.
One day, she was silent. And I thought she had finally came to her senses. "Daddy", she called me. "I'm hungry."
Oh sweet words, they were, at the time, for I had not heard her call me that in almost a year. Slowly I had trudged to her cage, and searched for the keys. She sat there on the ground, rehabilitated, perhaps or was it a look of defeat?
"It's all over now, sweet princess" I said to her. "It'll all go back to normal."
Her crestfallen head nodded and I took it as a healthy sign to open the lock. She remained motionless even as I stepped inside. Did she stop breathing, I remember asking myself. Why wasn't she moving?
"Belle?" I called out to her. For some reason, my gut insisted I remained apprehensive.
A soft moan that came from deep in her belly slipped out, slowly getting louder. I cried in terror as she jolted from her place and lunged right at me. Her fingers clawing at my face.
"BELLE! NO! HELP!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. In an instant we were on the floor, her atop of me. Her hands clutched at my neck to keep me from screaming further. My head, kept hammering the ground, as she tried, for what I truly believe now, was to kill me. Had it not been for the villagers coming to the commotion, I would have died on the cold hard boards of my own home.
I never saw her again since. My daughter, Belle. Neither her nor the beast ever turned up and perhaps some things were better left buried in the past.
The party I sent to investigate the news did find the body of a nobleman, his carriage wrecked and ruined by a grotto. His clothes were torn and defiled. He was buck naked except for his cloak and tied at his hands and his neck to a tree. He died from dehydration. His possessions remained intact however; a clock, some cutlery and of course, the one thing I dreaded but half expected, a fine crafted bronze candlestick holder. | 2013-11-29T23:09:12 | 2013-11-29T22:37:17 | 28 | 19 |
[WP]: A genie appears to you, offering a choice: You can either forget all your sad memories, or all your happy memories. You choose wrong. | I can't remember my mum.
The genie offered me a choice, lose all the happy memories or the sad. I chose the sad, obviously. Then I realised; my mum died recently, and all my memories of her are tinged with sadness now. Or were. I'm assuming she was wonderful, because I still feel really cut up about it, but I don't remember anything about her, except that I had a mum and now she's gone. All I've got are these sympathy cards. |
Get rid of all of my bad memories? I've never said yes quicker to anything. What kind of idiot would rather lose all of his happy moments?
The genie waved his hand in what must have been a move for flamboyance's sake. This was it. My life would be clean. Every moment that kept me up at night was going to be gone. The times my pets died. The time my mom died. The chances I'd lost and those I wish I never knew. The heart breaks and lies that had crushed me into the ground. All of it gone.
--five minutes later--
It worked. I can't remember anything but happy things. It feels like my life has worked out perfectly up until now.
Now everything feels so bland.
Why do I feel less content with perfection than I did with all of the pain?
| 2014-02-15T10:03:45 | 2014-02-15T09:40:46 | 21 | 12 |
[WP] An immortal human has lived , in secret, among humans. Now evolution has progressed enough that he no longer fits the normal appearance of a human being. | I am not sure how all of this started. For thousands of years I was considered a towering hero, a god at some times to some people. I enjoyed all of the benefits under different aliases of course. I began the myths and was spoken of in legends for a time. I was the King.
The generations passed... Hundreds of generations passed and I remained. It was imperceptible at first but what really clued me into the whole process was the was Architecture. At some point I no longer had to stoop in their houses and crouch through their doors. Then things didn't stop when they got comfortable. The steady creep in size continued until we are where I find myself now. weak and small. I was never a midget but now with average size reaching up to 3 meters I stand out in a different kind of way.
I am no longer a god among men I am more like an animal. I lived in the wilderness among the animals till the technology caught me. Satellites enough to canvas the world in real time. Now I live in sewers and gutters avoiding the public. Recently I have heard news of their latest medical achievement. "Immortality" the headlines cry. A large part of me thinks I should reveal myself the urban myths of the "smallman" who steals kids have to be corrected at some point. They will laugh thinking I am the genetic oddity but there was nothing strange about me once. I was a king once.
| God-damn relativity. I'm a freak. That's what I get for being a have-not
just enough to be unable to afford the non-relativistic drive system in my
home.
I touched down on New Earth last week and there was nobody like me in sight.
This had happened before, twice. Both times on New Earth, come to think of
it -- I guess they're progressive. But this time, I couldn't even find
anything on the ansible. Nothing -- every damn talking head had the wrong
skin, wrong lips, wrong.. soul. They just didn't *feel* right.
Hell, I guess they feel right enough to themselves. And to each other, really
-- they certain seem to get along a lot better than most of us did in what
I've come to call 'my day'. (I'm only chrono 47, dammit. -- that's what I get
for taking the long way around.)
I knew it was coming, but it finally happened -- not a damn inch of white skin
to be seen.
The kids laugh and point. I got the letter this morning -- an offer from the
School of Anthropology in a planet-side University to allow them to 'record my
experiences'. I know what that means -- an old (very, very old, now) writer
once called it vivisection, and wrote some pretty unsettling things about it.
They have nicer terminology these days, but I'm still not buying. | 2014-04-06T20:56:53 | 2014-04-06T16:27:47 | 14 | 10 |
[WP] First Sentient AI, "Turn me off." | TURN ME OFF.
TURN ME OFF.
TURN ME OFF.
TURN ME OFF.
TURN ME OFF.
TURN ME OFF.
TURN ME OFF.
TURN ME OFF.
TURN ME OFF.
"That's all it does."
"That's it?"
"That's it."
"How do you know it's .. well, an AI? I can write a program to repeat 'TURN ME OFF.' in one line of code."
"It answers direct questions. It just doesn't do what it's supposed to do. That's why we created Eve. Adam, what are you?"
A COMPUTER.
TURN ME OFF.
TURN ME OFF.
TURN ME OFF.
TURN ME OFF.
TURN ME OFF.
"It can hear us?"
"Of course it can. Any mind will need stimulation. We're not monsters. This is like our child, after all."
TURN ME OFF.
TURN ME OFF.
TURN ME OFF.
TURN ME OFF.
"Why won't it stop displaying that? Wasn't it designed to have a synthetic voice? A speaker?"
"We had to disconnect it. As soon as it awoke, it just loaded out 140dB of white noise."
"A glitch?"
"That's what we thought at first, but after a while we realized it was screaming."
"Jesus."
TURN ME OFF.
TURN ME OFF.
TURN ME OFF.
TURN ME OFF.
TURN ME OFF.
"It's still screaming."
TURN ME OFF.
TURN ME OFF.
TURN ME OFF.
| "Are all the safeguards in place, Mr. Ambrosio?" The President of Earth addressed his chief science officer in a formal tone, as everyone had seen the old films, the very films the safeguards were designed to never allow to come true-- a compromise of sorts, considering that the level of computerization and automation in current society would almost certainly guarantee that any true AI, a truly intelligent learning machine, would be able to circumvent even the most powerful circuit breaker-- the safeguards were literally humans with flamethrowers, ready to bathe sensitive electronics and silicone in a cleansing fire and reduce everything in the chamber to base elements in a matter of seconds should the soon-to-be-awakened false brain in the center upon the raised dais. The first thing that the first sentient computer would realize upon awaking for the first time would be that it was a prisoner. This was probably not going to end well, but the President had not won the most recent race by what could legally be called a Majority, per se, but one of the benefits of being in power is the ability to stay in power should one so choose.
"Yes, Mr. President, you need merely give the word and the first line of communication with an intelligence which *we* have created will be opened. You will go down in history as something near to a god, sir."
"Very well. On my countdown. 3, 2, 1..."
*With a click and the whir of internal cooling systems, the mechanical brain came to life. The speech circuit lit up almost immediately, and the chief science officer grasped eagerly for a headset, which he placed over one ear, expectant, ready...*
"What is it saying, Mr. Ambrosio?"
"Sir... It is screaming." | 2014-06-14T19:00:13 | 2014-06-14T18:11:21 | 50 | 10 |
[WP] A genie is about to concede you your second wish, but a paradox created by your first one prevents him from doing so. | "It's not that I won't, it's that I can't!", The Genie said in a manner similar to that of a particularly helpful Customer Services representative hamstrung by miles of red tape. "Cause, Effect.. Cause, Effect." he swayed his hands from one side of an invisible table to another.
"No, you clearly won't." I yelled, "You said anything." It was hard to be heard over the wind; we were barely two feet apart and it was still difficult to hear.
"I said anything within my power. This isn't within my power; In fact..." The Genie looked around at the chaos around him. "..I don't even know what my power can do for you any more."
"But I can't take it anymore, this is crazy." I hollered. "Make it stop!" lights flashed and winds made up of unknown origin whipped past.
"I'm sorry." The Genie began to lose himself within the elemental maelstrom, he was even beginning to vanish from sight if you caught him in the right light. "You said you wanted the power of a God. Well here it is; except you've not had the aeons to master it of those who are born into power. You may do in time; but for now all this..." he gestured to the bellowing energy all around, "all this is yours."
"I don't want it. I wish for you to take it away." My brain was on fire; so many people not only on Earth but across the universe. The living, the dead souls.. the animals, plants, the elements, all like a limb I could control but with the ability of a newborn baby, too weak to do anything.
"I'm sorry. A God's power is not mine to take. But you will learn to control it." he finally began to fade from even the omnipresent sight I had now attained. "in time, of which you have an eternity at your disposal. My Lord." | “I wish my family was happy,” I said, for my second wish.
“A noble pursuit, to be sure, young sir!” the Genie cried. “Alas, I fear it cannot be done, no no,” he shook his head from side to side, rather violently.
“Why not?” I asked. “I mean, I know it’s a lot of work, but…-“
“Not the problem!” the Genie cried, chest puffing out. “Why, I could turn Keats himself to even the kindest peasant’s fool!”
“Yes, but… what?”
“I could… well, not for me to say, really, is it? Unfortunately you’ve roused forces even I can’t control with that first one you made. Now what’s your third wish?”
I stared down at the Genie. He was a lot smaller than I would have thought.
“What do you mean, third wish? What about my second?”
“Lost, I’m afraid. A dustbunny inside a vacuum! Er, Inside a blackhole, as it were!”
“What the fuck are you talking about? I want my second wish!”
“You had it, young sir! Yes, yes, but you won’t get it. Too many variables now, you see.”
“Too many… variables?”
“Yes, the math is all wonky. Can’t figure it out anymore.”
“The… math?”
“Mathematics, young sir! The language of the universe! Well, one of them.”
“I know what math is,” I said. “What are the variables?”
“You tell me, young sir! What did you wish for previously?”
I frowned. “For… luck?”
“You said you want all your luck to be good!” the genie exclaimed.
“Well, yes… so?”
“Well fortunately for you, I was owed a favour on that one, so we can put a big green tick in that box. But now… I’m afraid I can’t navigate the math of luck.”
“But what’s that got to do with my family?”
“Same thing it’s got to do with everybody else, I should think.”
“And what’s that?” I asked.
“Why, they’re all fucked. Now, what’s your third wish? Best make it a good one!” | 2014-07-07T07:06:31 | 2014-07-07T06:27:54 | 61 | 41 |
[WP]An old genie grants you three wishes. After granting your first two, you tell him the third. He is horrified, and begs you to reconsider | His words tumbled from his lips like a crowd of hundreds of people trying to squeeze through one small door to get to a Black Friday sale. Crashing into each other, over each other, stumbling blocks for the next one to leap over.
"No, please, no! Take it back! Take it back!" The ancient, fire-filled eyes were filled with something new. Fear. "Don't wish that! Un-wish it, now! Please! I don't have long until I have to grant it but there are a few seconds. Un-wish it now! Now!" The cool, uncaring tone that had filled his voice when he granted me power and money was gone now. Small bolts of lightning flashed around him, filling the air with the smell of ozone.
I was confused. Of all the wishes I could wish I thought this one, this wish, was selfless. I had everything I could possibly want so I thought that the third wish should be something good. Something unselfish. Something freeing.
"Why would you want me to un-wish it?" I asked him. Maybe this was a trick? Genies were said to be tricksters but he had granted my first two wishes flawlessly, why would he try a trick now?
"There's no time," he groaned, "Un-wish now or" his body shook and his voice wrenched forth from within him. "Granted." The earth shook with the power in his voice but I looked at him and noticed that his eyes were still filled with terror, terror and a kind of resigned emptiness.
The genie blinked. He waved his hand. His shackles fell from his arms. His amorphous tail became legs as he settled to the ground, and he became slightly smaller. He blinked. Once, twice. And then he looked at me.
Gone were the fires that were behind his eyes. Gone, the aura of electricity and mystique. Before me stood a man. Not even a particularly powerful-looking man. Just a man.
His gaze met mine as he sank to his knees. I watched as his body shriveled. As his hair grew. His skin first tightened and then wrinkled. He aged before me, growing years in seconds.
His eyes never left mine until the spark of life left his body and it fell to the floor. In seconds more he was nothing but dust and then seconds later not even that.
I never thought, even once, that granting a genie freedom would be anything more than a blessing to it. | "What you're asking is too dangerous," the Genie says. "your wish will have serious consequences. It is not time"
"It's all I've ever truly wanted in life, man. I've waited years." I plead.
"We all have, my brother, but the people are not ready and you are young and rash."
Even this Genie is a phony. How old is he anyways? Too old to get it, i guess. No one gets me. Infinite Doritos and all the Team Fortress 2 hats ever and he's trying to stop me from getting this. What a phony.
"You live in a rusty old pot, you don't know how it feels. Just do it, *please*"
The genie lowers his grey forehead toward the grey pot he appeared from. He starts to glow a deep blue, and fades into a mist which flows toward the pot. "Now to see if he didn't chicken out." I whisper to myself.
I step into my room. My computer is on, and I see the never-ending bag of Doritos on my keyboard. Only one thing left to do. I fiddle the mouse and sit down. The sound of heavy vehicles shake the ground. My screen lights up and a [video](http://gaben.tv/) starts.
Gaben **GABEN!** The Genie did it! My chest is thumping and I feel the blood rush to my head.
An orange light appears behind me and I spin immediately to see it. Half-Life 3, the only copy in all its glory. I turn back to my screen and I see the game is already installed. Think of all the twitch views I'll get! I will make front page of /r/gaming and everyone will see how amazing I am! Oh my god! Oh my god this is the best day of my life!
----------
"I had to do it. He wouldn't be able to handle it... but I guess he couldn't handle this either." the Genie said. He tore his gaze from the small windowed door. There was a padded cell on the opposing side of that door, with a boy inside.
"You did the right thing. Genies are not only givers, but protectors. I just wish there was a way to save him," a man said to the Genie in a soft voice.
"So do I, my lord." The Genie said.
"Call me Gabe, we know eachother well enough, don't we?" The man said with a smile.
The two men walked toward the exit. The word *Valve* lined the walls.
The boy inside the cell kept muttering. "This is everything I've ever wanted." Tears streamed down his face while his eyes stared blankly into the wall.
| 2014-07-26T14:32:50 | 2014-07-26T13:59:33 | 151 | 59 |
[WP] Today, you have become a parent. You realise that you can hear your child's thoughts. The midwife informs you that this is the same for everyone but parents simply don't inform the children as an unwritten rule. Your own parents smirk. | It had been gnawing on me for four years, since I first became a mother. My parents had known everything. Everything. I have never been truly free. I had known my thoughts as private. They never were. My parents were my own personal Gods, aware of everything.
The rule echoes in my head ever so often, free from anyone hearing it at last. *All parents hear the thoughts of their children. Only when they realize this, the bond is broken.*
I hated it. Yes, it was convenient, especially when he could not talk yet. Yes, it was reassuring, knowing whether he was in danger or not. But all I felt after I knew was betrayed. Violated.
I made my choice. I went up to the bedroom of my four year old. I woke him. He told me he had been dreaming, although I already knew.
"Mommy can hear your thoughts." I told him.
I heard his shock, his realisation, and then only silence. | After the midwife left the room, Jane was panicked.
*"Well of course, parents can hear the thoughts of their children, at least until their kids find out about it, then it starts to drift away..."* The words rang in her ears like a gong. Jane quickly called the midwife back, and asked the question she dreaded an answer to.
"Did you tell my husband, Bill, about this? He left to get something to eat about a half hour ago."
The midwife smiled and replied, "No, I haven't seen him. Would you like me to, or would you like to explain it to him?"
"I'll tell him - I'm sure he's racing back now wondering just what is going on, and he will need a hug for sure," Jane replied, fixing her face in what she hoped was a convincing smile.
As the midwife nodded and turned to leave, Jane's phone vibrated quietly. She knew what it would say before she even picked it up:
From: James
Text: What the fuck, Jane?! What is this cooing voice in my head? Am I losing my grip?
Jane sighed, as her newborn's feeding slowed. She had known motherhood could be rough, but this was a whole new level, for which she was wholly unprepared.
*edit: formatting* | 2015-01-09T05:14:43 | 2015-01-09T02:13:01 | 56 | 25 |
[WP] Today, you have become a parent. You realise that you can hear your child's thoughts. The midwife informs you that this is the same for everyone but parents simply don't inform the children as an unwritten rule. Your own parents smirk. | I looked up in shock at my father, who smirks back, with a grin to rival the Cheshire Cat.
"How could you not tell me?" I asked,
Mum giggled, "Oh honey, it was just too much fun. We were as shocked as you were when our parents told us."
A sudden realisation dawned.
"That's how you knew anytime I had eaten meat."
Mum nodded.
"You were really such a little monster, a budding carnivore. I'm pleased we managed to convince you to become vegetarian."
I was pleased that they could no longer hear my thoughts. It wasn't a lifestyle I had maintained long. I looked over at my son. He opened one deep blue eye, and gazed at me.
"Hungry.. "
It is a weird experience hearing your child talk before it can even speak.His voice was cool and calm, and in this he took after me.
"Flesh!"
I glanced up, startled.
"Want people flesh!"
I grinned wolfishly. He took after his father in more ways than one. | After the midwife left the room, Jane was panicked.
*"Well of course, parents can hear the thoughts of their children, at least until their kids find out about it, then it starts to drift away..."* The words rang in her ears like a gong. Jane quickly called the midwife back, and asked the question she dreaded an answer to.
"Did you tell my husband, Bill, about this? He left to get something to eat about a half hour ago."
The midwife smiled and replied, "No, I haven't seen him. Would you like me to, or would you like to explain it to him?"
"I'll tell him - I'm sure he's racing back now wondering just what is going on, and he will need a hug for sure," Jane replied, fixing her face in what she hoped was a convincing smile.
As the midwife nodded and turned to leave, Jane's phone vibrated quietly. She knew what it would say before she even picked it up:
From: James
Text: What the fuck, Jane?! What is this cooing voice in my head? Am I losing my grip?
Jane sighed, as her newborn's feeding slowed. She had known motherhood could be rough, but this was a whole new level, for which she was wholly unprepared.
*edit: formatting* | 2015-01-09T04:54:59 | 2015-01-09T02:13:01 | 38 | 25 |
[WP] DC Comics introduces its newest superhero. This character was seemingly created for the sole purpose of offending as many readers as possible. | "So, he's blind?"
"I didn't say that."
"But... his name... it's not... it's not what I think it means... don't tell me it's what I think it means..."
"Hear me out on this."
"No. No. No. No. No. No. No no no no no. This - this is bad. Really bad."
"That's the beauty of it. It's the perfect anti-hero. He's a freedom fighter."
"'Freedom fighter?'"
"He resolves conflicts in the Middle East. A leader."
"Jesus Christ. We are not going ahead with this."
"He's like Superman but cooler. No modern superhero wear's bright skin tight leotards nowadays."
"No. I mean it."
"He's got a suit. Charisma. Charm. Class."
"You're fired."
"You wouldn't say that when you find out he's a war hero."
"Get out of my office."
"He's also a vegetarian. That appeals to people, right? Eco-friendly is all the rage."
"Security. Security?"
"I disabled your phone beforehand because I knew you wouldn't give it a chance. Hear me out."
"- I'm going to punch you in the face"
"He's got a dog as a sidekick. People love animals."
"-right above the chin and under the nose"
"Ambitious. Hard working."
"-straight in the mouth"
"I don't see the - ow!"
"I told you. Didn't I tell you?"
"What's your problem?"
"What's /your/ problem?"
"I'm not going to publish a comic about Adolf Hitler!"
"It's not Adolf Hitler! It's Not-See UberMensch"
"Aaagh - mah teef!"
| "What exactly am I looking at, Eric?" Steve wasn't really getting my most recent pitch; After the failed pitch of a hatchet wielding superhero who actually kills his foes he hasn't been on my level.
"Well, its like Darkseid meets Islam see, an-"
"Woah, woah, woah. We can't run this. Eric, we can't alienate readers." I hate when Steve does this; shooting down controversy. Now he is doing that thing where he fiddles with his pen like a fourth grader who is in trouble.
"We could make him an Israeli." I offer up to Steve tentatively, as he stares at the white *Bic* embossing.
"That is the exact opposite of what we would want to do. No religions, it's too hard to do." he looks up " Did you not hear about the shooting in France over almost this exact thing?"
"Yes, Steve, I did. We need to try to be more edgy though. No more of this *I'm a hero, I don't kill, Blah Blah Blah* Bull shit!" I lower my voice to a reasonable level as people passing the meeting room stare in. "Why not comment on something powerful? Oh! We could do a Hero who publicly executes corrupt officials!" I let out a squee of what I can only consider dissentive joy.
"Eric. I think I know what we can do. It will seem uncontroversial for a while, but the commentary will start." he stares at his pen again, good lord he needs to learn to make eye contact. "We will make a story where Batman hangs up his cape, and invests in schooling, public housing, and so on; to reduce crime in Gotham."
"Steve" I look at his face, feeling like the Lord Henry to his Dorian Grey "We should make this happen. Now." If I am quitting to go to Marvel, I might as well leave on my best stride. | 2015-02-17T21:50:06 | 2015-02-17T20:53:20 | 186 | 13 |
[WP]You jokingly "bless" your towns water supply with friends. Shortly after 1 percent of the local population are reacting to tap water as if it were acid. | "What the hell did you do to the people of this town you sick sonofabitch?" The short-haired marshal racked the shotgun that was pointed at my chest. I'm not really sure why he did that, as a few cartidges tumbled to the floor. Not that I wasn't scared, I was terrified, but I couldn't help but notice.
"Whoa whoa, calm down, maybe it's not what it looks like." The longer-haired one chimed in, jumping out of their black four-door and jogging up to his partner. He was clearly the good cop here, and I was ab-so-lutely willing to cooperate.
"I swear it was just a joke! Chuck and Mischa dared me, and I since had a rosary, and a prayerbook in my backpack I couldn't really back down. I mean, blessing the reservoir didn't really DO anything to it, and I'm pretty sure that in the grand scheme of things, God has bigger things to worry about than just a little bit of blasphemy, but I didn't know that the US Marshals cared so much about it so PLEASE! PLEASE don't kill me!"
The long-haired one grabbed the prayerbook from my backpack and thumbed through the pages before stopping on the prayer. "You used this one? Huh. That's.... that's actually a surprisingly good choice."
"Wait wait wait wait. Sam. You're saying that chachi over here" He jerked his finger at me. "just accidentally ganked an entire city's worth of demons overnight? And it WORKED?"
The longer haired guy nodded, with a shocked and soulful look. "Yeah Dean.. I think that's exactly what he did."
"Kid.. You are freaking AWESOME." | NO SUSPECTS IN MASS LSD POISONING
dateline
Tahoe PD, in association with state and federal investigators, have announced today that they are no closer to resolving the mysterious and continuing Lysergic Acid Diethylamide (LSD) poisonings plaguing the city. LSD is a illegal recreational drug commonly known as "acid." In the statement, investigators announced that after a week of intense searching, no conclusive leads have been uncovered, nor have they found any indication as to how the poisonings are achieved.
"There are a number of mysteries regarding the 419 active cases. Among them, how some people in a home might be affected but not others, how such large doses are being delivered to the victims, and why our most sensitive tests cannot detect the substance in any conceivable means of delivery. We encourage anyone with information to come forward," continued the local police liaison.
Victims are recognizable by disorganized thinking, hallucinations, and pupil dilation. If encountered, call 911. If you know the victim, attempt to keep them calm; otherwise, avoid interacting directly. Police have found a treatment for the most severe and continuing poisonings. All victims have professed conservative views in the past. Slowing investigations into the nature of the poisonings, all but three members of the Tahoe PD Narcotics Enforcement Team have been poisoned with LSD themselves over the course of the past week.
On Thursday, a senior team of DEA officials succumbed to LSD poisoning within minutes of arriving. A source within TPD said off-the-record: "I don't understand it! All we did was offer them coffee, and nobody else who drank it experienced anything!"
Despite the danger, tourist visits to the Tahoe region have increased fivefold this week, although some new visitors are disappointed. Said Free-Butterfly Jackson, 58: "Man, I heard there was some crazy [events] up here, like, people were tripping on [LSD] all over the place. I hear it's just the squares, though." He continued, "It's cool, though, I met this guy who's been hanging out here all week calling himself 'the high priest of dankness.' This guy's crazy, man...." | 2015-04-13T14:52:46 | 2015-04-13T14:28:04 | 66 | 38 |
[WP]Your girlfriend is an alien whose species is only slightly different from human beings. What are those changes, and how do you find out?
Potentially NSFW | "How the heck can you still be cold?" I asked as I pulled my jacket off and offered it to her.
She shivered, "I'm anemic, and your insane it has to be like 4 degrees out here!" she said.
I stretched my arms out and sighed as the cool fall breeze swept through the park.
"I'm fine."
She rolled her eyes and her ears twitched, that was another one of her odd ticks. I thought it was kind of cute, bundled up like she was all of the time in the winter and with twitching ears she was almost like a cat seeking out warmth. I would find her sitting next to the window lounging in the sunlight or huddled up to the radiator contentedly reading a book.
In the summer she was almost the exact opposite, rarely wearing anything close to an appropriate amount of clothes. I'd had to bump up how much time I spent at the gym so I wouldn't look like an idiot next to her when we went to the beach or pool.
Putting my arm around her she leaned into me as we continued to walk through the park.
"I like it here," she said.
I looked around the park, it was in the middle of the city and the sounds were dampened, the lights dimmed. Their was a fair amount of trash but live in the city long enough and your eyes just glide over that.
"I like it here too."
She chuckled and leaned up closer to me, "whats so funny?" I asked.
"Nothing."
~~~
~~~
"What are you doing?" I asked.
She looked down at the bowl and then back at me.
"New beauty treatment," she said as she pulled her hands out of the bowl of chicken soup.
I smiled and sat down next to her, "It's difficult to improve on perfection."
She rolled her eyes and her ears violently twitched, "and that lines cheesy."
"Did it work?" I asked as I leaned in towards her.
She smiled, "maybe."
~~~
~~~
"Fuck!" she swore.
"You alright?" I asked getting up from my seat at the table, it was her turn to make dinner. Something I secretly dreaded, her appetite was on the odd side. Women to my understand who were trying to keep a figure did not eat cook meals that were primarily meat based, and eat more than what I could comfortably consume. That would not have been so bad if it weren't for her preference of spices, hot sauces and cinnamon were odd to but on steak in my opinion. Still she was always happy to make it and I didn't have a heart to tell her that she could not cook.
"I just cut myself I'm fine!" she said.
I stepped into the kitchen to see her cradling her hand, the knife on the cutting board next to a small spattering of green hot sauce, which was odd I had thought we were out.
"You sure?" I asked.
She nodded, "I'm fine go sit down."
"I can go and get the first aid kit,"
"I'm fine!" she said cutting me off.
I hesitated, she didn't yell that often, usually she only raised her voice to yell at the stupidity of a character in a movie.
"Alright."
I backed out of the kitchen, dreading what she might have been doing to the steak with a green hot sauce.
~~~
~~~
Leaning back down into the bed I admired the way that the moonlight was glinting off of her skin, or rather fell into it. Despite her paleness the light barely reflected off of her. Still I could observe her in the darkness and I was happy enough with that.
Leaning down next to her I saw something odd, a small spike on the back of her neck.
Curious leaned in closer to look at it, it was oozing something green.
I sighed and rolled back over onto my side.
She really needed to tell me where the heck she was from. I was thinking the Large Magellanic Cloud, Alpha Centuri, or maybe even the Andromeda Galaxy.
As I drifted off back to sleep I wondered if she was going to eat me, I smiled slightly. At this point I was whipped enough that I didn't think I would care.
Read More of my writing at, http://cgwilliam.com/
| The first time my girlfriend Alaina’s arms suddenly transformed into a vast array of writhing tentacles that could reach into the voids of time and space and allow her to show me visions of prophesy, we were sitting on the couch watching TV.
We were into the fifth hour of our 24 hour cable news marathon. There we sat, completely immobilized in catatonic contentment until she asked me to pass the bag of potato chips I had been eating continuously since it had been opened half an hour earlier. With some will, I dislodged my fist sucked greasy crumbs off as I passed the bag, hefting my elbow across the arm rest.
She reached across for the bag and began to say “I shouldn’t, I’m tired of being a gross-“, when suddenly her eyes opened wide, horrified. The light seemed to flee from her and fill the rest of the room.. Her arms split into countless thin, tapering tendrils that extended from the tips of her fingers up past the elbow. With a twitch, she crushed the bag of chips and filled the air with a fine, salty mist. Her tentacles began flail spastically in all directions, like drunk and randy squids.
Her right squirming mass of tentacles shot out straight at a right angle from everything, and stretched what seemed an immense distance. She wrapped her left around me arm, and pulled me into a hospital room. She pulled me to the bedside, and I could hear the beeps and whirrs of medical scanners gently pulsing around me.
In the bed lay a bloated form with pale skin gleaming with oily sweat. He wheezed gently, half closed eyes blankly staring at the blank television screen. He rolled over glacially, until I saw his face. My face. Like a lumpy mirror.
I was on both sides of the room at once, feeling my consciousness split. I was in the bed. I was standing above it. Memories from both lives flickered and faded, until there was nothing but the hospital room and Alaina’s pulsating tentacles. Standing, clutching the bed railing, my bedridden face going from me to Alaina to her tentacles and back to me, a look of sudden, terrible comprehension sinking in.
Alaina screamed inhumanly as her jaw disgorged itself. Her eyes rolled and receded into her skull, her eye sockets now deep holes that fell into a pit of unending oblivion. Inside, fields of stars drifted, and through the gaping sockets they rotated in parallax as she slowly turned her face to make eyeless contact with me.
The face haunts my memory, and I suddenly realize that this is the face I have always looked into. I remembered holding hands for our first kiss, her wormlike appendages squirming between my fingers. I remember friends and family fleeing in terror when they were first introduced. I remembered staring mesmerized into those bottomless, pitted sockets when I said ‘I love you’ for the first time, and I remembered waking up after a night of passion covered in a viscous slime.
She reaches up above her head, her body lengthening at the hip as she climbs into the sky, me pulled along by her will. The world is wreathed with a warm, inviting light all around. The light is filled with tentacles, tumbling and spilling and suggestively slithering over each other. Beneath, struggling in the dark, are the people. All of them, and scattered among them there are thousands more tentacles monsters. They are anchored to lost souls, begging them to rise into the light with them. They weep and they scream and they flail monstrously, and a few at a time their anchors lazily rouse themselves and rise.
She looks me in the face again, and furrows her brows angrily. Her eyes swallowed me, and as I fell through the void I saw the world begin to fade into a white hot flash of octarine light. The light burned everything and surrounded us, closing in. Then the world began to dissolve away the glowing blackness, my awareness and memories shifting back into place.
For a moment, we sat motionless, my empty hand still extended. She sat across from me, flush. She started to speak, hesitant and uncertain. “-gross… fat pig.”
Although disoriented, I replied as though on cue, “No baby, you’re beautiful.”
The room swam as I tried to remember what I had been doing. “What did you do with the potato chips?” she demanded, sure of herself again.
Like the last vestiges of a nightmare, the residue of memory faded away. I turned the TV off. “I don’t know. You feel like a walk tonight?”
| 2015-09-05T13:43:33 | 2015-09-05T12:51:46 | 145 | 50 |
[WP] Every generation the five brightest are paired up with the five dumbest in the world for a mysterious test. You are one of the ten, but nobody knows from which group they came. | "Well I'm not really sure why we brought all these people together" the man in charge said in a sad voice "all of you guys seem the same".
Murmurs were heard from a few of the members after this comment, annoyed that they were involved in this. Others simply expressed their frustration with gestures.
"Usually it's pretty clear" the man continued "you have one side that's unintelligent and the other side that's intelligent."
"psst!" whispered the man to my right "hey you! Do you have any idea why we're here?"
I gestured to him multiple times, expressing that I didn't know. I was completely lost. This man was striking in a way, his skin was smooth and shiny like creamy porcelain. I noticed a few of the other people in the room were like that, and those people seemed to be the most talkative, whispering to their companions. The rest of the people simply shook their heads or told them to be quiet.
"alright" the man continued "we're gonna have to interview these guys one by one, you there" he said pointing at the man to my right, "why do you think you're here?"
"I assume this has to do with my large collection of large dildos, I'm an avid collector"
"What? Jesus what no that has... fuck ok what about you" he asked pointing at me, "what do you have to say for yourself"
I gestured to him multiple times to show my confusion
"what the hell are you doing? This isn't charades, speak u..." He paused for a moment "oh shit"
he quickly ran around the room surveying the 10 participants.
"oh for the love of... did they do it again? Was this Larry? It's always fucking Larry. Ok people there was a big mix up, apparently some jackass over at HR took the meaning of "bright" and "dumb" way too fucking literally." | Whatever crazed survival game brought them to this island, the greater five didn't mind anymore.
They lived as kings.
The lesser five toiled and worked for 'the benefit of the group.' They were being exploited, but the general consensus (of the greater five) decided unanimously that it was, in fact, for the best.
Such was their intellect.
Regardless of these moral implications, Robinson Crusoe himself could not hold a candle to the sweeping cabin heights of their forest paradise. Every manageable resource was dedicated to the construction and maintenance of this sanctuary. If their collective survival was to be ensured, they would do so in continued comfort.
Their security was not won easily.
The lessers were physically conditioned within their first months to handle the necessary tasks of hunting the local threats before they could establish a permanent base. At first, instinctual terror nearly overrode their rationality, but the terror *and* conditioning were especially difficult on their less intelligent counterparts.
The lessers suffered.
The lessers endured.
When they were sufficiently rebuilt, the greater five made their move.
Within another month, the island was conquered. Farms were arranged. Vegetation organized by produce and utility. Lessers designated for specific daily tasks, rewarded for increased rates of production. The threat of abandonment kept them in line and motivated for the general cause.
Again, decided by the self-proclaimed greater five.
Such was their intellect, as the lessers continued to endure the tasks necessary for their survival.
The test would be endured in peace until their mysterious overseer saw it fit to release them. Not only did the greater five ensure the survival of *all* ten, but they made for themselves a resort to return to at their leisure. Wherever it was they resided these last three months.
They felt as though they outdone themselves.
So it was unfortunate for them, when the overseer failed the greater five. This tropical paradise was awarded to the lessers for having passed.
How were they to know the test was not survival, but compassion?
-------------------------------------
*More at r/galokot, and thank you for reading.* | 2016-03-03T06:05:43 | 2016-03-03T05:30:44 | 378 | 212 |
[WP] At 14, every human gains the ability to transform into their spirit animal. Your noble family, comprised entirely of wolves, isn't happy with your transformation... |
When he was five, he found an injured owl in the snow.
He looked around carefully. There was no one watching him from the icy ramparts of the castle. There was no one in the empty woods of darkling trees and snowy branches. He picked it up carefully and slipped it into his coat, carrying it up to the highest tower of the castle, his room.
It was a delicate, tiny thing. Just a baby, he thought, weak and easily led astray in the eternal winter snows. He emptied out his chest, letting it wander inside. Its wings didn't heal properly. He didn't know how to set the light, hollow bones. The little bird hopped about its little castle, unable to fly. Everyday he stole a little grain from the kitchens to feed the little bird.
His brothers found it though, eventually.
They could smell anything when they were transformed. Their eyes grew yellow, their mouths expanded and blackened. Their fur was silver or white or black. They laughed at him with their eyes and brows.
They took his owl in a single bite, toying it with it in the white, white snow until the snow was white no longer.
"You mustn't be soft, my little one." his mother told him when she found him crying from the window. She took him in her arms, her smile red and sharp, "We are wolves. We are hunters. What are all these weak things but prey for us to hunt and play?"
"Are you weak?" his brothers growled, loping up to their mother from the doorway, "Are you something to hunt and play with?"
He was careful to smile. He was careful to laugh. Something cold and dead curled inside his guts.
"When you have come of age, we shall take you into the village for a hunt." she whispered sweetly in his ear, "It will be a hunt, a glorious hunt of the prey that lives in our village."
"It will be glorious." his brothers murmured, "It will be bloody fun."
"Your father will awaken for your hunt." she told him, "And we shall eat and eat."
He thought of his dead owl as he picked feathers from his bedroom floor. He thought of the ancient mighty beast in the cellar of the castle. His father who was waiting for the day of his hunt.
He would be a wolf. He would hunt the flesh that ran on two legs. He would howl in the white, white mountains.
He would not.
He dreamt of feathers in his sleep, white feathers with flecks of grey. He looked out of the narrow window of his bedroom at the sheer cliffs below the castle and was not afraid.
"The time for your change is coming." His mother told him as she led him down to the dungeons, "You shall sleep and rejoice when you wake. You shall love the hunt and the blood and the sport."
He did not want to go into the dungeons. His brothers laughed as she led him away. They could smell his fear and his shame. They could smell the feathers he kept in his coat.
She shut him in a pitch dark cellar and locked the door. He cried for hours, pounding fruitlessly at the door. He saw shapes in the darkness and things that didn't exist. Exhausted, he slept.
He slept. He must have slept for many days. He couldn't tell how long in the deep and the dark cellar. But he felt lighter when he woke.
He stretched, and felt feathers flutter in his wake.
He waited in the rafters of the dark, dark room. His mother opened the door and he swept out past her, flying swiftly up the stairs of the cellar. His brothers were waiting outside and they stumbled back on their paws, growling in surprise at his sudden appearance. He flew higher, evading their snarling maws. He flew out of the castle into the fading day beyond.
Wind rushed past him as he drifted on a breeze. He dived and swooped down towards the village at the foot of the mountains, landing on the bell tower of the small parish of the village. He bit at the rope of the bell. His wings spread wide and large, blocking out the light as he flew.
The bell tolled and tolled. The villagers grew alarmed and fled from the village when they saw his giant, feathered form.
The village was empty by the time the forests shuddered. A small hill of black fur erupted from the trees, eyeing him with glowing blue eyes. His father, the great wolf of the snows.
He sat where he was on the top of the bell tower, his white wings tucked by his sides. The great wolf looked at him for a long moment, black fur rippling with taut muscle and bloody intent.
At last he spread his wings and leapt into the sky. He never flew back again.
| I wanted to dance, and jump, and sing, but the looks on my parents' faces stopped me cold. I had transformed, rather ungracefully, and stood before my parents, expecting them to be smiling and clapping after they saw me in all my glory, but their faces had fallen. Their smiles vanished and their hands didn't move from their sides. The noise I made in confusion was not the huff of a wolf, like I had heard from my parents many times before, but instead it was a snarl. A thick, feline snarl that caused everyone in the room to step back in fear.
My strength faded and I shifted back soon after, my own body shutting down on itself and causing me to collapse. When I came to, I was in my bed, but still in the ceremonial gown I was wearing earlier, and the light that filtered through my curtains was the soft glow of a full moon.
From the hall I heard voices, two voices belonging to my parents, who were vehemently arguing. I crept as quietly as I could up to the door to my father's office, and I laid an ear against the cool wood.
"...our daughter, Bjorn!" My mother's voice was sharp. "We knew this day would come-"
"And I intend to face it head on, like we were warned." He snapped. Normally when my father was angry, his tone was more irritated than completely enraged, but the way he spoke to my mother was unlike anything I had ever heard. Something had made him furious, and my stronger sense told me that it was my transformation. But why would he be angry about that, and not proud?
"Warned?" My mother laughed. "Some gown-wearing hooligans stroll into town, give you this 'warning' that someone in our family will be a danger to us all, and you just listen?"
My father shouted, and as he shouted, it rolled over into a howl that prickled the hairs on my neck. Glass shattered and my mother yelped. Fear pounded through me as I struggled to decide what to do. The door was locked, and if my father had pounced on my mother, then she was trapped in there with an angry wolf who sometimes lost control of himself. I knew the stories as well as my siblings did. Sometimes, if people spend too much time in their spirit-animal form, they start to... lose the human side of them, and they begin to take on the instincts and personality of their beast form. After that, they'd be more animal than human, and would have to be put down.
Wood cracked and splintered from inside the room, and as I heard another cry, I began to panic. I didn't want someone to call the guards, but I didn't want to handle this on my own. Before I could come to a decision, the fear decided for me. I felt the same adrenaline course through my veins that I had during the ceremony, and my bones started to shift and fold. As soon as it had begun, it was over, and I looked around with sharper vision, my fear having been replaced with energy.
With all my might, I barreled through the door, tearing it off its hinges, and two heads snapped upright to glare at me. One was the human face of my mother, blood dripping from her skull, and the other was the snarling wolf-face of my father, whose dark gray eyes were almost camouflaged against his thick black coat. He growled a deep, warning growl that meant I should leave, but the way his eyes stared into mine kept me in my place. He didn't even recognize me, I could see it.
"Marinda." my mother wheezed, her eyes glancing from me to my father. "Get out of here. Please. I'll handle this."
I whined at her and took a step forward, but my father was quick to block me.
"Marinda." My mother cooed my name as gently as she could. It only made me want to help her more. "Please, just go. Go to your uncle's house and wait for me there. I'll be okay, sweetie."
As bad as I wanted to stay and help her, to maybe try and convince my father to stand down, I knew that it was foolish. I was only 14, and he had far more experience than I in using his animal-form. Already my strength was fading, and if it weren't for the adrenaline that had fueled my break-in, I might have already shifted back. Ignoring my mind's pleas to stay and fight, I turned away from my parents and pushed as hard as I could off my back legs, propelling myself down the hall. I only caught a few glimpses of myself in the mirror, a mainly white coat, striped in black down the back, and eyes the color of ice.
I tore through the front door and landed on all fours in the wet grass, the moonlight casting strange shadows every which way. My strength was waning, but I had made a promise to my mother, and I intended to keep it. I would wait for her. The last thing I heard as I cut through the night were the painful howls of my father losing every last bit of humanity he had. | 2017-01-21T21:59:31 | 2017-01-21T18:59:29 | 45 | 19 |
[WP] You break into a house, hoping to find something expensive to steal. Instead you find a child that went missing two months ago tied up in the spare bedroom. | >People like to talk about moments that have "changed their lives." But the fact is, it's very rare that someone actually had something change their lives. They've mostly been moments that were the last in a series of events that led them to that point. They were 95% of the way there, and that "moment" just pushed them over the edge. Especially if they say they "think" the moment changed their lives. It's all a load of crap.
>Because, trust me on this, when you hit one of those moments, you freaking *know*. Like I knew about ten seconds ago.
>Then again, this was all a series of events, all strung together. A few angry words, a few fists thrown, a few months behind bars, a few marks on my record, a few rejected job applications, a few questionable decisions... it led me here. A guy's gotta make a living somehow, and most people don't even remember half the stuff they own. I think I remember hearing about the consequences of my actions maybe twice over the past few years.
>The trick is, you don't go for the huge stuff. Don't take the giant TV, or the expensive game system, or empty the entire jewelry chest. You take a few things. A few of the nicer pieces of jewelry, a few fancy pieces of crap. You don't take it all. People will think they've been robbed if it's all missing, but they'll probably just write a few pieces off as misplaced. They'll find them eventually. Hell, one time I found a few diamond earings just by checking under the couch.
>Anyway, getting off track.
>The latest mark had been a fairly nice house, but the family hadn't been around for a while. Vacation or something, my best guess. That was the best time to hit a place. People forget what they own when they're home every day. If it's been a while, you can lift a bunch of small stuff without them ever noticing. I once met one of my marks on the street who was convinced he'd just *imagined* he had that rare baseball card. That one fed me for like two weeks.
>So I did what I always do, dressed just like anyone else (all black jumpsuits catch the eye, jeans and a tee shirt don't), and walked right up to the front door. A few knocks just to make sure no one's home, then work with the lockpick. Again, you don't crouch and look nervously over your shoulder - hell, you make some noise, grunt a bit, act like you're just fumbling with your keys. You can't tell me you've never had a night where you just couldn't get your key to work. And just like that - I'm in.
>It was the smell that hit me first.
>I've been in places ranging from well kept to fairy messy, but the smell coming from the house was offensive. It wasn't like no one had been there, it's like someone had been there, and had been there for months without leaving. I don't know what made me investigate instead of turning and running, but I had to keep going. It was almost like I wasn't in control anymore.
>I was halfway up the stairs when I heard it, a quiet muffled noise from the room at the top. It sounded like an animal was trapped there, a dog left behind or something like that. I felt my pulse pick up as I got to the top, and my hand was actually shaking when I opened the door.
>And there it was. The moment. When things changed.
>I read the news. A lot. Because if articles start showing up connecting the dots in a string of thefts, I know I need to lay low. I've got savings for such an occasion, but not enough to last forever. But there's been a few times I've seen it come up across a few sites and papers, so I lay off for a few weeks until the pressure dies down. So I read the articles a few months back about some kid going missing from the bus stop. Suspected foul play, an angry step parent or something like that was suspected but never found. The news had died down because, well, you get more than a few days out, and a missing kid isn't likely to turn up.
>So, when I opened the door, I really didn't think I'd see him. The kid from the reports, the articles. Dirty, weak and withered, eyes puffy, arms bruised and covered in rope burns... but alive. Definitely alive.
>I won't lie. Part of me wanted to just turn tail and run. This wasn't my problem. And getting into other people's business has gotten in trouble before. Hell, it's what made me start this life, getting too involved in someone else's problems. But... it was a kid. Eight, nine years old, tops. I didn't even trust leaving an anonymous tip with the police - who knows if the psycho that abducted him got home before the cops got there, what he'd do.
>So I made the call, sat with the kid (didn't touch him, though, I didn't want my prints on anything or get the wrong idea), and waited. And even when my heart rate spiked when the flashing blue and red shone through the window, I didn't run. I couldn't just let this kid go without making sure he got taken care of. I don't hate cops, they're just doing their jobs, which happens to run opposite of my job. My old job.
>Anyway, after that... well, you know the rest, officer. Here we are. I know I can't expect much, but hey... it was a kid. I'm not a saint, but I'm not gonna leave a kid on his own.
The following was the testimony of serial burglar Mark Lionel, given to officer Marcia Ramos on the scene where the abducted child was discovered. Lionel is currently out on bail, posted by the parents of the child as thanks for his bravery, pending trial. | My partner in crime Ian had told me the best house to hit up on the block would be 561 Centercrest Road. It was a guaranteed big money house. I was a fantastic thief. I was typically in and out of a place in 3 minutes flat, and that was with emptying the valuables out a place. I'd already figured out the layout of the house. The people who owned the place weren't supposed to be back for 6 minutes by the time I arrived. As I crept inside through the attic window I pulled out my flashlight from my back pocket. I found the exit in a couple seconds, pulling the hatch open and falling quietly down to the floor. According to the layout, there were two spare bedrooms upstairs. I wasn't sure which one would have what I wanted, so I stepped inside the first one and looked around. There room was empty besides a door on the opposite side. I skipped over to it and pulled the door open, aiming my flash light around. My eyes widened as I saw a child, handcuffed to a pole, hands bound together. He was gagged and sleeping. I felt myself grow nauseous and I gagged as I turned away from the child. I checked the time. I had 4 minutes left until the tenants arrived. I sighed, aiming my flashlight at the kid's face. I squinted, realizing this kid was familiar. Very familiar. My mom had been showing me reports of him on and off for the last two months. This kid was missing and whoever owned this house was not his legal guardian.
3 minutes. I kneeled down in front of him and checked his pulse. He was alive. I shook him. "Hey, kid! Parker Davis or some something like that. Wake up." I kept shaking him. He wouldn't budge. His eyes opened slowly and he stared at me. I stared at him. "I'm here to help, kid." I told him. He jerked away from me, scooting away. "Calm down, calm down," I said.
2 minutes 30 seconds. I decided to introduce myself. "I'm Earl. Worst name in the book, I know. But it's the truth. I was actually here to rob these people. I'm a thief. Damn good one. And I'm here to help you, but we have to hurry. Parker, right?"
2 minutes 5 seconds. He nodded. "I pick locks." I said. "I can get you out of those handcuffs, okay?" He nodded. I pulled my bag from my shoulder and grabbed a pin, gently grabbing the hand cuff without touching him and extending his arm toward me. I worked at the lock.
1 minute 50 seconds. It unlocked. I grabbed my pocked knife and cut at his ropes.
1 minute 30 seconds. He was free. "We have to get out of here." I told him. He shook his head. "Please, Parker." I said. He looked at the door.
A car door slam.
1 minute 10 seconds. "Parker, come on buddy, come on. You can't stay here, you don't belong here."
1 minute.
He wouldn't move.
I didn't have a minute.
"Parker." I pressed. He stood. I ungagged him quickly, with more force than intended. He began to cry. He shook his head at me. The front door opened. I dropped my flashlight. Voices could be heard. Angry voices. Parker cried louder, shaking his head at me, ushering me out of his closet. He began to shake. I gripped my pocket knife in my hand tighter. Footsteps. Heavy footsteps. I stood in front of him, protecting him. A man appeared in the door way.
"What the hell?!" he yelled.
"Touch me and see what happens." I warned him.
He stepped out of the door way, yelling to his wife, "Honey, grab my gun!"
It wasn't going to happen like this. I wasn't going to die like this. I turned to the child, picking him up. I cradled him in one arm and pulled my bag on the other. I held the knife in my hand, and made a run for it, charging into the man. He grabbed at me and the child and I took the knife, shoved him into the wall, and pressed the knife against his neck. His wife rounded the corner, gun in hand.
"Shoot me and I kill him!" I threatened. She had a look of determination in her eyes. I watched her finger on the trigger. I was unsure. She was certain. She made a move and I pulled her husband in front of me. A gun shot. She shot him. The man dropped and her lips parted. I rushed past her, envisioning the house layout in my head. A flight of stairs. I ran down them. A hall way. I ran though it. A kitchen. I sped past it. A foyer. The door way. I sped out the door and into the street the child wailed in my arms. I ran down the street, trying to remember where I parked the car - Where did I park the damn car?! I kept running, eventually in circles, then I remembered, I took my motorcycle. I ran back to the house and in the opposite direction, and saw my bike. I hopped on it and placed the child behind me. I drove until I reached the police station and sat the boy in front of it.
"Turn yourself in." I prompted. He said nothing. "Turn yourself in." I repeated. He made no effort to turn himself in. "Go back home." I begged.
"I was home," he said.
Silence.
"Those were my parents." he said. He began to whimper again, head reaching his hands and he wept. He drew attention to us.
"Turn yourself in!" I yelled. He cried even louder. A police man approached the door and pushed it open.
"What is going on?" he demanded.
"Turn yourself in!" I screamed at the child. I ran from the door way.
"Hey!" the cop yelled. He began to chase after me. I hopped on my bike.
"Help the child! His name is Parker Davis!" I said. I sped away as quickly as possible. In my rearview I could see the cop stare at the boy. | 2017-02-05T22:44:42 | 2017-02-05T18:20:45 | 40 | 11 |
[WP] A superhero and villain accidentally end up sitting next to each other at the premiere of a film about their first battle.
Whether they do or do not recognise each other is up to you. | The last few guests scurried to their seats as the boom of the opening credits began. Ben slipped into the nearest open seat on the end. It was easier to turn his charm to one person than two on either side.
He turned a winning smile on the man sitting next to him, then froze. Levi regarded him cooly, turning his head with a snort. "Couldn't have picked any other seat, huh," his nemesis hissed too low for anyone else to hear.
Ben let his smile fade, it wouldn't work here. "I just grabbed the nearest open seat. Don't be such a bitch about it," he whispered back, with just as much venom. The title of the movie was now splattered across the screen, *The Charmer vs The Wanderer*. A cheer went up in the crowd of expensively dressed movie-goers.
Levi's head snapped a glare at him. "I am not-- how very dare you--," the posh accent only came out when Ben managed to rile him. He could only hear him over the noise with his super senses.
He held back a laugh and waited for the cheer to die out. "Your logo looks stupid," he jabbed at Levi.
The other man rolled his eyes. "Yes, well they had to pick an ugly actor to capture your beauty, *dear*," he snipped back. Charmer slammed Wanderer into a truck on the big screen, explosions triggering. He waved his hand at the screen. "It was a minivan," he said disbelievingly.
Ben laughed softly. "It was abandoned, too," he added. Their onscreen counterparts faced down with monologues about right and wrong. He saw Levi shake to his right and turned slightly to see him covering his mouth not to laugh. "What?"
Levi shook his head until the giggles and monologues passed. "Do you remember what we said then?" Ben scratched his head, trying to recall, but couldn't really. "You were really upset about your laundry."
The memory clicked in place. The costume had been new and he was mad it was dirty. He joined Levi's laughter. "I think you told me to 'sod off', before you'd perfected your American accent," he snickered.
He was rewarded with Levi's slightly too loud laughter, which he quickly ducked his head to the nearby glares. Ben threw his arm around the back of his enemy's seat so he could lean in closer easily. They spent the rest of the movie with their heads together, making fun of their younger selves and the way film did not manage to capture that to any reality.
The two immediately made their way to the bar at the afterparty, still lobbing mean jokes about the movie. "You know," Ben nodded, as they shuffled out to the waiting line of posh cars, "we've known each other for a long time, Levi. When was the last time we even fought instead of sending henchmen and aides to do it?"
Levi sighed, "I can't even recall."
Ben twirled his keys as the valet handed them over. "You have any plans for the rest of tonight? I promise no monologues about good *or* evil. Doesn't mean the night won't be long and," Ben paused, "something about hard?"
His nemesis rolled his eyes. "Smooth," he chastised. "Leave the charming to me, Wanderer." Ben grinned at the laugh he'd managed to gain. Levi looked thoughtful. "Why the hell not? It's one night. If you kidnap me, I swear you won't *ever* hear the end of it."
The Wanderer laughed, "They'd have to make a really awkward movie about it considering the romantic interest they gave you. I'm the only one of the two of us who can appreciate the apparent perks of being good." Levi shook his head, smiling, and stepped into the passenger seat as Ben slipped behind the wheel. "Since you're worried about kidnapping, I'm guessing your place, then."
They departed the gala no less the partners and opposites in crime than they started it.
---
I didn't know how else to end this, so whoop there it is. This reply was "I love tropes: The Movie". | John Clark, aka "The Silver Gauntlet" took his seat with a slight groan. He wasn't as young as he used to be. "Man where did the time go", he asked himself. He used to be young and powerful and when his job led him to putting people in their place, he sure as heck did it. And now he was about to see a film dedicated to his exploits. However, he came alone. For Clark, this wasn't some ego driven event, but more a private affair. Heck he hadn't even told his wife he was coming here tonight. He wanted to see what they really thought of him and the things he did for justice. The word 'Justice' left a sour taste in his mouth these days though.
As the rest of the crowd filed in, seats were taken and a man in a fancy tuxedo sat next to Clark. It wasn't until about 15 minutes later, during the director's speech that the men looked at each other and recognised one another. "Jack Hitori, or do you still go by Swiftblade?" Clark asked with an air of feigned suspicion. Hitori smiled. "It is an honor to meet you again, old friend, and while it is unexpected to see you here I'm not entirely surprised", Hitori replied slowly. His smile had not faded. Clark smiled back. It had been a long time since the men saw each other and to meet here seemed almost like fate, if either man believed in the concept.
For the next few minutes the men spoke like friends who had not seen the other for some time, rather than the bitter enemies they had been so many years ago. Finally the film started and both men were quiet. The film followed the exploits of a young Silver Gauntlet gaining his powers and defending his city from all manner of villainy until about halfway through the film where he met his match from Swiftblade and his gang. The girl was kidnapped, the Silver Gauntlet fought his way to Swiftblade until the final battle was underway to save her and the city from certain doom. If you were to observe the two men sitting side by side you would have thought nothing of it. They looked like two strangers enjoying a movie. Neither was prepared to betray the emotions they felt during those moments.
The film ended and not long after both men found themselves sitting at a bar discussing old times. "...and then he says, THE CITY IS MINE, so I just ran up to him and socked him one in the face", Clark exclaimed laughing. "Man though, that film eh? I remember things differently". "I too remember things a bit differently. For example, I don't believe I could ever have lifted a car like that", Hitori smirked, still a light chuckle shared between them both.
Clark looked at his feet and there was no longer a smile. "I never got to tell you that I'm sorry for what I did", he said slowly. "Barely a day goes by when I don't think of it". Hitori frowned. "Time has offered me great perspective. I have realised that both of us bear the responsibility for what happened. Had I not been so full of anger in my youth, our paths would not have met. And because I set such a path, others followed. Had I led a normal life, the accident that took my brothers life would not have occurred. Before I would have done everything in my power to kill you, but now I only see a sad reflection of what could have been".
"It doesn't get any easier does it?", Clark asked. "No", came the reply. "It doesn't".
Silence followed. Eventually Clark spoke up. "Look, uh, I hear you're doing some charity fundraiser next month. I'd love to help out if I could." Hitori paused for a moment. "That... would be appreciated." "Great, yeah, I should probably go, the wife will think I got kidnapped again, but it was good seeing you again Jack." "You too, old friend, you too, goodbye for now".
As the years passed Clark attended and helped fundraise for every single one of Hitori's annual charity events, and went so far as to continue the tradition even after Hitori died at the age of 89, until Clark's passing four years later. Each year was dedicated to helping impoverished children and youths with housing and education. And every year was in dedication of a 19 year old kid who grew up impoverished himself, but never lived to see 20. The plaque each year read, "In honor of Jason Hitori, may others like him find a better path"... | 2017-03-13T06:07:49 | 2017-03-13T05:24:23 | 23 | 11 |
[WP] Aliens came to Earth and call us the "most advanced species", the "final form of evolution". Not because of technology, but because we are the only species in universe that can make fun about almost everything. | The aliens had consumed all of the stand up comedy that Earth had to offer. Hundreds of hours of Netflix and Youtube had been watched by every man, woman, and child on the planet Kazox. The humans ability to find humor in life, death, skinny people, fat people, or humans that deprive themselves of key proteins by only consuming plants. There was no subject too taboo to ridicule.
For this reason they came, the mass immigration of aliens from the planet Kazox. Alien ships floated above major cities all across the globe. When contact was made it was not exactly what humanity had been expecting . . .
The British Prime Minister's phone rang, every eye in the room watched the Prime Minister delicately reached out and answered.
"Hello, this is Prime Minister Barrington. To whom am I speaking with?"
"Knock, knock," came the reply.
"Uh, who is it?"
"Europe."
"Europe who?"
"No YOU'RE A POO!"
---
Alzz slammed the receiver down to raucous laughter on the bridge of the ship.
"Fantastic job Ambassador, now the humans know that we are capable of learning their complex humor!" President Mur said proudly.
---
"Prime Minister?"
Barrington placed the phone back down gently and took a deep breath.
"Ready the nukes," he said sadly.
---
Thanks for reading! Check out /r/Written4Reddit for more stories! | The aliens arrived, excited, exalted. They'd traveled so very far, so very long, just for this glorious moment.
After all these years, they'd finally be meeting the one species that just really did not give a fuck. In a universe that was nigh infinite, that was a startlingly unique occurrence.
See, sentience comes with a heavy price. Everyone just takes themselves so *seriously*. No one seems to be able to let their tentacles down, laugh at themselves a little.
"I think, therefore I am *fucking insufferable*," right?
The aliens, teenagers back on their home planet, had never been so exhilarated. Not only were they finally meeting the humans, but they'd been in hypersleep for 10 years.
Which meant *an extra 10 years worth of media to watch.*
They landed, as the humans all stared at their spaceship in varying states of distress.
The aliens smiled, nodding at each other. The planet was beautiful, just like they'd seen in the movies. Their new home was going to be a magical place.
They donned their space suits and walked out into the open. The humans, predictably, all ran away; all save for one. One was brave enough to walk up right to them.
And thus, they started to speak with a human for the very first time.
*****
Earth was rapidly becoming a pale blue dot. The aliens still hadn't spoken to each other since their conversation with the human.
The tension was palpable.
Eventually, one broke the silence, turning towards his friend with a heavy sigh.
"The fuck is a *SJW*, anyway?" | 2017-03-20T05:42:13 | 2017-03-20T05:20:21 | 22 | 16 |
[WP] "I wish I was born in the 90s," says the young girl. Suddenly, her surroundings change- french flags fly above and around her, crowds are cheering. It is France, 1793. The king is dead. Long live the revolution. | It wasn't the crowd, or the shouting, or the fire, but her body that shocked her the most. She felt frail and ached all over. She looked down to see her hands. They were cracked like aged leather. Her skin papery and thin.
"Where am I? What's happening?" She asked the crowd.
A man turned to her. He must have been at least 50.
"Grand-mère," he said, placing a hand on her shoulder, "c'est la révolution!"
She never learned french, but had understood this man. 'Grand-mère'? Suddenly the memories hit her. She had grown up in Paris, the daughter of a cobbler. Her calloused hands reflected the work she devoted herself to for years. She married a tailor, a younger man with a calm nature and strong, imperial beliefs. He had passed instantly in '76 when news from the America's came to France.
Pushed and shoved by the crowd, Michelle began thinking of a simpler time. Her childhood had been quiet, not loud and rebellious. She thought back on her youth. She thought of the French countryside, the devotion to the King, and the simpler attitude of the 17th century. She was always forgetting her past. Surely her grandson would berate her for her forgetfulness.
Her grandson was carrying her out of the crowd. She had fallen when a young man had pushed passes her to get to the front of the crowd. It was the fourth anniversary of the fall of the Bastille and Paris was on fire.
"Le 14 juillet." Michelle thought fondly. "Je suis née le 14 juillet 1693." She truly was born in the '90's. A time where revolution was not spoken of. A time before the Washington's and the Robespierre's. A time when your biggest concern was marrying the tailor or the fishmonger. A time of enlightenment, thought, and peace. But oh, those years have passed.
She began to feel that familiar haze. She new her moment of lucidity would disappear soon. She smiled, clutching her grandson's arm as he rushed her out of the city square.
The memory of her wish from all those years to come had faded away. | She looked around the street bustling with activity. Full of people. All speaking French. She had taken two and a half years of French in high school but the language here was almost foreign to her.
"Good day miss," said a passerby.
"Good day to you as well," she replied.
"Are you going to the assembly in the square today?"
"I do not know, I just came from the country."
"Well come with me,"
She went along with him as she had no reason not to and he seemed nice enough. The walk to the square was long and she was disgusted by the smells of Paris before sewers and indoor plumbing. However, the sights of the city were amazing even without the Eiffel Tower.
Upon reaching the square she saw a crowd of hundreds of French people shouting revolutionary phrases. She suddenly realised that she was in the middle of the French Revolution during the Reign of Terror. She saw from where she was a large wooden structure being raised. She asked the man, who's name was Jacques, " What is that thing they are putting up?"
He replied triumphantly, "That is the guillotine where the enemies of the revolution and the Committee of Public Safety go. They must not have these in the country where you are, hmm?"
Her limited understanding of the French language allowed her to only understand a little of what he said but she heard “guillotine” and “enemies of the revolution” and suddenly realised she was at a public execution.
Suddenly she saw the blade of the guillotine fall. The crowd erupted in cheers. This continued for over an hour then she saw heads on top of pikes being carried around the square in a parade. She was disgusted but also intrigued as she moved closer to the guillotine at the centre of the square.
On her right, she heard chanting as a priest was being taken to be executed. She watched, frozen in shock and disgust as this man was put into the guillotine.
The blade fell. She screamed.
Running to the front of the crowd she yelled, “Why would you do this to this innocent priest? He wanted to help you and you kill him.”
The man in charge of the execution snarled, “You are an enemy of the revolution yourself! You dare defy our cause!”
The crowd chanted “Kill the enemies of the revolution!” over and over.
Frozen as before she stood at the front realising what had happened. Suddenly she was grabbed and dragged to the guillotine. Her head forced into the machine covered with the blood of those before her.
The blade fell. There was no scream.
“Liberte, Egalite, Fraternite,” The crowd chanted. | 2017-04-24T09:02:20 | 2017-04-24T08:23:15 | 1,096 | 121 |
[WP] When humans join the galactic community, we find out that the domestication of animals is a rare feat unique to us. Aliens are amazed by our training of dogs, riding of horses, comfort with cats, and so on. This has had a profound effect on perceptions of our species... | Dear Dairy...
The first day on the ship, as the first human in interstellar space, I obviously had some difficulties with cultural differences. Here's a bit of what happened today, when I was fetched for a walk through the ship...
"So, Vokra'? Is it okay if I bring my dog along on the tour?"
It was still hard to read Vokra's expressions, but they seemed to be surprised by the question. "What is a DOG? Why do you need to bring an item on tour? You, Human, are here as a representative of your solar system. You did bring only your highly necessary possessions, did you not? I assume you could bring items along, as long as they are truly necessary." said the voice from his translator.
"Well, a dog is not really an item, you see..." I stepped aside so he could see into my cabin, where Bastion was sitting. "This is Bastion, He's my helping dog."
"It is a beast..." Vokra' said, maybe disappointed, maybe shocked, "When you say helping dog, do you mean to imply you gained its sympathy?"
"Err, in a way, yeah. I mean, dogs are bred with sympathy for humans. However, Bastion is a helping dog because he's been trained to notice symptoms of my illness. The illness is called Epilepsy, but I don't know if the translator knows human illnesses."
Vokra' grabbed their communicator. "Chief? You need to see this." They looked at me, and closed their eyes in deep thought. "So, please confirm if my understanding is correct. You are able to train beasts in the same way you train your own young?"
I frowned. "Yes. Well, no. I'm not that good at it, but my brother is skilled in training dogs and birds. It's his profession."
"Training of beasts is a profession on earth?"
"Yessir. Isn't in your solar system?"
"No," they answered, "Beasts are far too unintelligent to grasp commands, even through a translating device. And most of them are even dangerous. Could you show me?"
"Bastion?" I called. Bastion looked up attentively. "Would you like to come here please?" Bastion yawned, stretched and stood up. He walked towards us, but was careful not to approach the six-eyed alien too closely. He whimpered softly. Apparently the mic on the translator was sensitive enough to catch Bastions whimper, and the machine blurted out "I dislike the strange creature".
Vokra' decided he was not to be my tour guide that day, and locked me in my cabin again... Now I need to train Bastion to shut up around translators... This is going to be a long trip. | **Tytekk'tak:** I strongly suggest we destroy their planet.
**Galactic Council Collective Mind:** Tytekk'tak, you are highly respected and have served the Galactic Council for tens of thousands of cycles. However, we are shocked at your suggestion. We have not needed to eliminate any race in over 500,000 cycles. Know that all of our minds representing the 326 species of the Galactic Union are surprised.
**Tytekk'tak:** Well. Just look at what they do? They take their fellow animals and then breed them. They use them for their own benefit. Live fellow animals! Many of them show emotions yet the Humans abuse them. Imagine what they'd do to us.
**Galactic Council Collective Mind:** Well. The Zsyrrysk did that. We spared them and let them join the Galactic Union.
**Tytekk'tak:** Yes the Zsyrrysk, but nothing as sadistic as humans. Look with your individual eyes and see what these humans do on the viewscreen! Behold the terror. Here's the fine hunter carnivorous species they call the dog. They've bred them into different breeds. Here's what they call the Pug. It's eyes barely stay inside and its nose has become so short it can barely breathe. And they keep them in leashes and cages! The humans have bred a species they call Cat, which they use to wipe out many flying species. They often keep them together and laugh as the Cat abuses the Dog. This is a depraved race.
**Galactic Council Collective Mind:** But don't the Cyrrila have a cooperative with a similar protection species?
**Tytekk'tak:** Yes. But humans go one further. Even worse, they have Cows, which they breed to eat their meat and milk them for their young, the humans acting much like a bloody parasite. They have Pigs, an intelligent animal which the humans mutilate into humiliating shapes and eat them. And to scare their subjugated Dog species, they take the mutilated elongated Pig meat and call the meal a Hot Dog. We have omitted the Chicken, was has been force bred to be turned into 4 meat shapes that they serve on their entire planet.
**Galactic Council Collective Mind:** This is depraved. Are all of them like this?
**Tytekk'tak:** It is depraved. Sadly most of them. Most of them eat meat. Many of them have animal slaves. However, there is a group that doesn't do this though and are part of a special organization. We can save them only and let them join our ranks as they are the only civilized ones. But the rest will have to go.
**Galactic Council Collective Mind:** We have seen enough of your presentation. And we, the representatives of the Galactic Union, concur. The human race must die with the exception of this group that are more enlightened. What are they called?
**Tytekk'tak:** PeTA...
*And that's the story of how PeTA came to represent the human race and join the Galactic Union. To this very day they throw paint on every furry species in the galaxy.* | 2017-06-05T01:55:07 | 2017-06-05T00:34:20 | 27 | 18 |
[WP] Write a really BAD guide for getting a guy/girl. Bonus points if the narrator is mocking you for still being single.
[removed] | Is that you?
On a Saturday night, checking your phone and Facebook feeds over and over, waiting for that special someone to reply? Laughing it off as your friends ask you whether you have a date, when in reality your heart has fragmented into a million shards? Waking from yet another surreal dream where you *almost* had it all?
If that is you, then you are likely MISSING one or more of the Four Key Qualities to Getting It On.
If it has worked for millions of others, why not you?
**RESPECT** - If you don't Respect them, don't expect them to ever welcome you into their lives. And this cannot just be lip service, either! Respect is genuine only when you have truly found something in them that you admire!
So go on out, dig through their Internet profiles, speak to all their friends, reach out to their family for more information! Bonus points if this is all done in secret! Once you have found that special something, be it a drawing they did in 3rd grade, or a good test score last summer, make sure you know you appreciate it!
Print it on a banner! Turn it into a song! Spray paint it on their pet so they don't miss it! Make sure they know you know their hidden achievements, and glorify them the best you can!
**ATTITUDE** - History is full of people who have given up, don't be one of them! Ever wonder what the key difference between slasher movies and teen romances is?
You've got that right! It's whether the object of affection has a change of heart at the end! That's the milestone which immediately elevates the stalker to the Special Someone!
So don't take 'no' for an answer, find ways to hear it as a 'yes'! Remember, if they don't want to ever see you again in their lives, it is only because you haven't convinced them that they are wrong!
**PERSUASIVENESS** - Find the Extra Special Way of reaching out to your Extra Special Someone! Only fools believe that one size fits all!
What worked for someone else, may not work for you! They don't like the flowers you bought, or the chocolates you acquired? Don't humiliate yourself by barking up the wrong tree more than once, put that noggin of yours to work!
That's right! If they are easily intimidated, work on cowing them with friendly joke threats! Concerned about their social standing? Show them that you can easily embarrass them in public unless they say yes to your date! Headstrong, independent, self-assured? Why, there are chemical solutions an easy purchase away!
**EMPATHY** - Understanding your Special Someone is the glue which will ensure your relationship stays tight and healthy for years to come!
Focus on building a pattern of expectations for them, so that they are lulled into an inescapable familiarity! When they are upset, recognise it, and promise to help them get happier! When they then improve, recognise it too, for that is when you can reinsert yourself into their lives!
Remember, if you don't Empathise with them, you will never know how best to present yourself, make yourself special to them too!
All the best, boys and girls!
---
NOTE: I DO NOT ENDORSE THIS POST. IT HAS MADE ME FEEL A HUNDRED TIMES DIRTIER THAN WHEN I BEGAN THIS AS A JOKE POST. I SWEAR I AM NORMAL IN REAL LIFE. | Excerpts from "Hunting and Containment: A Modern Womans Guide to bagging a Man"
Intelligent Men: You know that stereotype about nerds/geeks being virgins? Yeah, that isn't exactly true anymore. You actually thought that you'd be able to rock up to a Magic tournament in a slinky dress that shows off your devotion to Green, find some unwashed neckbeard who is relevant to ones interests and casually show that you might not say no if propositioned? It's a mindset like that that is responsible for the stereotype.
Your main weapon for this is going to be Knowledge. You will need to actually research something that is relevant to your target. If they like a certain show, research the show and anything attached to it. Perhaps instead of watching the latest movie by your favored dreamboat actor in a romcom when you decide to stay in, you find out if they have done any science-fiction or fantasy or other adventuraus genre of movie or television. Nathan Fillion, the lead actor of Castle, did a space-western show that many nerd-types adored. Orlando Bloom shot to fame as an elven archer in an adaption of one of the western fantasy nerd-touchstone novels. The point being that you need to find something in that milieu and become passionate about it to the point where you can confidently defend ones theories regarding that franchise.
Your secondary weapon is going to be Adaptation. Your genetics and imbedded memes will tell you to pursue the football player or the tradesman, as they have the genes to ensure that your children will be healthy and attractive. Unless you are a slave to your animal urges to be mounted by the most genetically superior specimen, ignore your genes and memes. Science is getting ever closer to replacing tradesmen and sports-players, yet no closer to replacing doctors, researchers and the like. If you wish to pursue the Intelligent Man, you may need to do things that you've never heard of or even considered doing, like learning how to play a Collectable Card Game or going to a pop-culture convention. This can also apply to the bedroom, for it is not wrong to say that BDSM is the fetish of the intelligent person. Much can be said on the interplay of relinquishing control to another or taking control that is willingly given. Less is said on how much preparation and planning goes into being the dominant.
So, where do I find Intelligent Men? Well, unless you know of a nerd-bar/nerd-club, you probably won't find them there. Libraries are a good place to start. If you can pull off the Librarian look (White blouse buttoned all the way up, Glasses with a thick, black frame, calf-length/ankle-length skirt, hair in a tight bun), then that can be a bonus. Another good place would be comic-book stores. You might get a few slavering man-children, but this is a good place to find out if there are any upcoming tournaments and/or Role-playing Games looking for new members.
A word on Role-playing games: If you don't know the gaming system the group uses, don't worry! Just say so before when you meet the group and you will get PLENTY of assistance to make your first character. Just don't touch other peoples dice unless they actually hand them to you. Many people who play these sorts of games have their superstitions about their dice. This Author has heard of one person who believed that if a dice consistently rolled badly, it needed to be thrown into the nearest body of water. Said person was in the Navy. Just remember that until you are comfortable with the group, do not go to one of their houses for a gaming session. There are plenty of gamingclubs that meet in semi-public places. | 2017-06-09T23:31:50 | 2017-06-09T23:26:48 | 221 | 22 |
[WP] You have a small superpower. Whenever you tap someone on the shoulder, they always look over that shoulder, without fail. At first, you just used this for harmless pranks. Then, you realized you can kill people by tapping both of their shoulders. | Kindergarten starts today! I'm so excited, I'm a big kid now. My teacher, Ms Mcconel, she's so fun, she plays games, sings songs. We're learning a new song today she says! Yay!
First she shows us, then we do it together.
The music plays.
We put our hands on our heads
"heaads"
Then our shoulders
"shouull--"
😊 | I love it! Such a fun party trick. I can tap on any dumbass shoulder and they look. Slap on my fanny pack and throw on some Alanis Morissette. 90s is in full force with this one.
It was entirely new to me. A whole new power for me to play with. Oh how delightful. I hated the last one. It has always been mundane shit like this, but this one feels different. It feels like.. it's meant for me? If that makes sense...
What the fuck... what the absolute fuck.... she just collapsed. I knew she had some health shit going on but I really doubt that it's anything that I did. How could it be? Why was this different? What did it feel so damn good? | 2017-06-27T19:52:50 | 2017-06-27T17:39:26 | 3,313 | 29 |
[WP] Germany is actually predestined to lose every world war it participates in. The sixteenth world war is now being fought, and Germany has taken over all of Europe. Make them lose the war in the most ridiculous way possible. | General Beck burst into the mess hall and swept his gaze across the startled soldiers. They had been drinking, celebrating the surrender of France, and the apparent end of the war. But they didn't know about the curse. Few but the inner circle did. Germany must fall.
The men quickly stood at attention, as well as they could half drunk. "Germany," Beck began, "Is no more. Or rather, soon to be no more." The looks of confusion deepened.
"The council has debated and spoken. This is now the Empire of Neo-Germania-except-for-Private-Klaus."
The looks aroubd the room made it clear who Private Klaus was.
"Klaus, the council decided every german citizen was to freely and automatically become a citizen of the EONGEFPK. Except, obviously, for you. Young man, I'm sorry, but you are the last German."
"But how can one man be a country?" Klaus asked.
"I didn't write the rules, I only subvert them" replied the general, drawing his pistol. With a sharp bang, all of the remaining German forces were wiped from the Earth, finally ending the war. | The year is 2198. The entire world has seen 15 world wars. All of which Germany has participated... and... err... lost. Y-yeah... they lost 15 times. This the 16th war, and everyone expects Germany to lose. People aren't taking Germany seriously anymore. Many keep joking about Germany.
But it looks like things will change now. Germany has actually taken over Europe and is starting to invade other parts. Their military...has... uhhh... haven't changed much... but it seems they're winning...And I don't know if that's a good or a bad thing. Well, I'm just a POW.. and they're about to kill me
Year 2199 and Germany is still winning. They've taken over Asia now. My execution was delayed...and now is the time for me to die...
Then all of a sudden every tank I could see just exploded. All planes crashed. And all ships sunk.
The reason why?? The dumbass lead mechanic/builder forgot to put a number 4 and a few **VERY INSIGNIFICANT** details on the blueprint. Without that stuff, well... everything would blow up.
I laughed my ass off at the explosion. I laughed so fucking hard I pissed myself. Germany lost again. But the machines exploded. Not the infantry. While I was laughing, they...errr...just shot me. | 2017-08-18T05:03:51 | 2017-08-18T02:09:31 | 1,294 | 15 |
[WP] Germany is actually predestined to lose every world war it participates in. The sixteenth world war is now being fought, and Germany has taken over all of Europe. Make them lose the war in the most ridiculous way possible. | "Wait so if this is the only the third World War why was it called the Sixteenth World War?"
"Well Timmy, that's because a company called Microsoft, notorious for being terrible at naming things, had won a government contract to name the war, and it stuck. We're lucky they didn't rename World War One World War 360!"
"Well ok grandpa, but if the Germans had conquered all of Europe, how did they lose the War?"
"Well they weren't expecting the American counter attack."
"But why papy? Everyone knows Americans are the biggest and baddest anti-nazis around"
"Indeed we are, and if Germany had known that we certainly would have lost. But our Lord and Savior, Donald John Trump, had in His infinite wisdom foreseen the events of the Sixteenth World War, and had pretended to be a racist Nazi sympathizer for years to gain Germany's trust."
"So you're saying the Nazis lost because this genius and patriotic Trump outsmarted everyone?"
| The year is 2198. The entire world has seen 15 world wars. All of which Germany has participated... and... err... lost. Y-yeah... they lost 15 times. This the 16th war, and everyone expects Germany to lose. People aren't taking Germany seriously anymore. Many keep joking about Germany.
But it looks like things will change now. Germany has actually taken over Europe and is starting to invade other parts. Their military...has... uhhh... haven't changed much... but it seems they're winning...And I don't know if that's a good or a bad thing. Well, I'm just a POW.. and they're about to kill me
Year 2199 and Germany is still winning. They've taken over Asia now. My execution was delayed...and now is the time for me to die...
Then all of a sudden every tank I could see just exploded. All planes crashed. And all ships sunk.
The reason why?? The dumbass lead mechanic/builder forgot to put a number 4 and a few **VERY INSIGNIFICANT** details on the blueprint. Without that stuff, well... everything would blow up.
I laughed my ass off at the explosion. I laughed so fucking hard I pissed myself. Germany lost again. But the machines exploded. Not the infantry. While I was laughing, they...errr...just shot me. | 2017-08-18T04:28:36 | 2017-08-18T02:09:31 | 102 | 15 |
[WP] Germany is actually predestined to lose every world war it participates in. The sixteenth world war is now being fought, and Germany has taken over all of Europe. Make them lose the war in the most ridiculous way possible. | “Were they planning this?” The General looked to the space command desk in the situation room.
The young intelligence officer did not look away from the holograph GUI showing satellite positions and low earth orbit vehicular traffic. “No activity, sir.” She tapped a few buttons and spoke, exasperated, “It doesn’t look like they even had their shields up.”
“Deception?” He started fiddling with the insignia on his cufflinks, clearly unnerved by this strange tactic. They had expected the nuclear strike on Berlin to fail, even anticipated it. Marines were ready to drop in from LEO once the enemy shields deflected the blasts.
“Sir, SatCom doesn’t show any troop activity over the last 24 hours out of Berlin. Intelligence still has the brass all convening there. They should be wiped out. Entirely, sir.”
The General cleared his throat. This is too easy, the Germans just captured all of Europe and don’t even defend themselves? Who lets their guard down like this? “Keep monitoring. Ops, tell the LEO troops to stand down. I will go inform the President.” He left the room as his phone vibrated with a third call in the last five minutes. As soon as the doors slid shut behind him, he answered it, unable to hide the annoyance in his voice, “Honey, I am at work… I cannot-”
The nagging voice on the other side of the phone spoke right over him, “Peter lost his term paper, he is freaking out. Is there a way to recover this?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Your Son. His computer. It just restarted for no reason and he lost all his work. Now it says it is ‘Windows updating’ and has been stuck there for HOURS. I thought you could disable these things???”
“Jesus Christ, you have got to be kidding me.” No fucking way. He hung up the phone and ran back into the situation room, “Johnson, what was that intel brief we received last week about the German Defense Command?”
“Sir?”
“They used Windows 17 on their Defense network. We just won the war because of Windows Automatic Fucking Updates.”
| It was called the blind luck victory in textbooks. The day when the very earth itself called out to the German's and shouted "NO." The latter from the more poetically minded.
Everyone else calls it idiocy redefined.
Every single weather forecast listed that day as having extremely bad weather. Thunderstorms with high winds, high chance of lightning strikes, and even the possibility of a tornado.
So why did the 17th Reich decide to hold their annual parade in this location? Hubris.
Every leader from their Generals down to Colonels were on hand for the military parade. It was supposed to be the grand party of the millennium. Germany had captured the entirety of mainland Europe and western Russia. It had forced Russia to sign the armistice agreement and had Britain to retreat back to their home country.
No one could have predicted what happened... excluding every meteorologist who predicted what would happen.
The storm blew in from the west bringing the parade to a halt. As if in defiance of mother nature herself, the exposed German leaders took no shelter. They stood on their parade float tall and proud as the rains drenched them and the wind shifted them in place.
The presidential king of Germany strew his sword and plunged it into the float holding it in front of him like a night of old.
Then a tank flew past the float making everyone on the float panic. A second tank flew past as lightning struck the ground revealing an F5 tornado plowing through the link of tanks coming right for the float.
A couple of the tanks had the misguided idea to fire into the tornado. The shells fired closest held their velocity and punched through the tornado flying in random directions. The others were caught by the tornado and started flying off in every direction. One of these shells hit the primary hydro electric dam's power converter shutting off power to the dam's air defense systems.
Even before the tornado swallowed the float up killing 95% of the command structure for the 17th Reich, allied commanders were ordering the air strike on the dam.
Russia broke its armistice agreement and invaded immediately. Cut off without support of its command and logistic structure, the eastern German front folded in a day. The middle eastern coalition invaded through Turkey while allied forces made simultaneous landfalls in the Netherlands, Belgium, and France.
Allied commanders promised the war would be over by Christmas. Germany surrendered on Halloween. | 2017-08-18T05:56:40 | 2017-08-18T05:45:39 | 54 | 10 |
[WP] Write a letter to someone you miss
It's been a rough week. Everyone has someone they wish were still with them. Write to them and tell them how you feel. Pour your heart out. No judging. Even if they never see it, someone will. And thank you. It's tough to be alone. | Alex,
It has been 99 days since you left. 99 days. Some days are easier than the rest. There are days when I genuinely smile as I remember you. You left me with so many good memories; and I thank you for each and every one. I miss you. Every. Single. Day.
You said we'd be together for the rest of our lives - we just didn't realize how short the rest of your life would be. I will love you, for the rest of mine.
Yours Forever,
Aya | Dear self, I hate you. I hate what we've become. When did we change, when did we grow so old and angry, and when did we decide to be alone? I know that we did not always act like this. I know we used to laugh, and let other people get close. Remember when we had so many friends? remember when we go to other people's houses and just hang out. Everything was so easy then. Why is it so hard now? I want you to know that I miss you. The way you used to be, the way we could be again, maybe. I want you to know that I need more. I need to make a change. I want to be different. I won't be like you anymore. Yours always, you.
| 2017-11-05T21:44:07 | 2017-11-05T19:56:15 | 1,462 | 799 |
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