prompt stringlengths 20 5.8k | chosen_story stringlengths 226 10k | rejected_story stringlengths 227 9.43k | chosen_timestamp timestamp[ns]date 2012-07-26 17:01:55 2022-12-31 14:34:19 | rejected_timestamp timestamp[ns]date 2012-07-26 14:23:36 2022-12-31 12:20:41 | chosen_upvotes int64 14 23.1k | rejected_upvotes int64 10 4.26k |
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[WP] English really is a universal language, and aliens are as surprised about this as humans | "Why would you choose to speak possibly the most ridiculous language, what with its weird grammatical rules and phonetics, and where the exact same word can be read differently and have meanings worlds apart?"
"Why would *you* choose to speak possibly the most ridiculous language, what with its weird grammatical rules and phonetics, and where the exact same word can be read differently and have meanings worlds apart?"
The alien and I looked at each other. Which was difficult, because our eyes weren't in the same approximate biological region. The Esipuliks had their eyes where our chest would be, except that they had five, and they were in different formations according to caste. But we tried our best.
"Fair," I conceded. "At least we didn't have to muck around with translations and what not."
"It is," Doctor Wariimu of the Esipuliks agreed. "It's an interesting question, but we do have more pressing work at hand."
I laid down a scientific instrument native to the Esipuliks down gingerly, careful not to disrupt the burgeoning table of tools. I sighed.
"Really?" I asked. "Is what we are doing really more pressing?"
"Look, Logan," Wariimu said. He was currently peering through a test tube containing a liquid that was shockingly yellow. A bubble frothed above it every second or so, before popping into nothing. "This isn't for us to decide."
"I just don't get it," I sighed. "I need a nice, soothing cup of coffee."
"Poison," Wariimu replied simply.
"It's clear that your kind's understanding of English is still far from satisfactory if you feel that way," I replied.
As I sipped the terrible machine-made coffee, I wondered if there was some truth to Warrimu's words. Regardless of how it actually tasted, I could feel the caffeine slowly massaging its way into the appropriate pathways, gently easing the unscratchable itch from within.
"What if we didn't choose, Wariimu?" I mused. "What if us both speaking English wasn't our choice nor God's coincidence?"
The good doctor swivelled around. Their torsos didn't work like ours.
"I didn't know coffee had the same effects as alcohol to your physiology," they said. "Are you drunk?"
"I've never been more sober," I said. "Especially after staring at that worktable for hours."
"Why are you thinking so hard about it?" Wariimu had now turned back to the test tube, now a violent orange.
"It's just... strange? I guess we have more reservations about this than your kind. The Esipuliks is the first race we've made contact with, after all."
"You'll understand that English is apparently, something that binds us all together," the doctor said. "Some way, somehow, it's wormed its way into all of our collective tongues."
"Maybe I'm thinking too much about it," I said. Chucking the cup away, I stood up straight, stretching fully and hearing the satisfying crack in my spine.
"After all," Wariimu said. "It's not possible that there's something wrong with the heads of every single person in the galaxy, right?"
"It certainly can't be," I nodded.
*That's right*, the voice in my head confirmed. *There's no other reason why all of you know English. No other reason at all.*
---
r/dexdrafts | The silence of space is a powerful drug. I spend a lot of time in the interstellar ship's forward observation deck, where I meditate on the contrast between my beating heart and the empty void.
There are three hundred and thirty-four humans on board. Most have opted for a permanent cyrogenic state, programming the ship's AI to wake them when we approach the next habitable planet. The ship runs autonomously, and our main duty is to provide a redundancy for its systems. A final human failsafe.
The ship does not need us to carry out its mission, but humanity is a race of poets and writers and thinkers, and our primary objective is to find and seed worlds. Life should create life.
We had over a thousand crew members when we first began our eternal voyage, but as the passage of time marches inexorably onwards, more and more individuals decide to stay on the worlds we seeded. Their cybernetic implants guarantee their survival for another several thousand years, allowing them to shepherd and guide the expansion of their world's first fledgling human tribes.
All we need to function is the energy from a star. It is only out here, in the vast emptiness of space, that we are truly mortal.
\---------------------------
The mountain range looms on the horizon, carrying the promise of cold winds and heavy snow.
Skate moves quickly, following her father as he treks up the winding mountain path. Soon they would leave the trees behind.
Skate is tired. Her feet ache with each new step and her breath is short on the thin air, but she lets none of her discomfort show. Tonight she becomes an adult.
Her father halts in the middle of a sheer mountain meadow. Billions of stars twinkled in the sky above them, stretching through space-time.
“All those worlds…,” her father whispers, his voice carrying low and soft on the cold wind.
Skate did not probe, for soon she would know what her father meant.
“You go alone from here girl. Follow the path. Use the light of the stars to guide you to the entrance to a small cave,” her father said. He had a strange, reverent tone that she had not heard before. “Inside you will find God.”
\----------------------------
The spaceship hurtles through oblivion, moving further and further away from everything Saka had ever known.
The ship began its final approach to Proxima B, where Saka would help create a second colony and so play her small part in humanity's first expansion into the stars. The crew was arrogant and filled with pride. They had a right to be, for their civilization had grown from a few primitive tribes to a thriving global population in just a few hundred years.
Saka traced her ancestry to an ancient matriarch named Skate, who had founded a dynasty that existed to this day.
As they entered Proxima B's solar system, the ship's sensors picked up signatures that could only come from intelligent life, and for the first time Saka realized that humanity was not alone in the universe. Then the ship received a communications beam.
“Please return from whence you came.”
Silence. A silence so intense it was as if the walls of the spaceship had dissolved into the inky void.
Impossible. The aliens communicated in English. | 2020-09-17T08:39:03 | 2020-09-17T07:08:18 | 1,085 | 67 |
[WP] When you die, a field of text appears in limbo, revealing the high scores of life, and your score. Your score is the top score. | "Congratulations! You just won The Game."
"Where am... w... what game?"
"EXACTLY! No one else lasted as long as you, NOT thinking about The Game. 95 years, 4 months, 22 days, 3 hours, 32 minutes and 9.11 seconds is the new record. What a lifetime!"
"Who the hell are you?"
"Gottlieb."
"...Gottlieb?"
"Call me God. So, what was your name again?"
"...what?!"
"Your. Full. Name. I'm gonna put it on this leaderboard I made."
"Amy- uh- Adelaide Amelia Anneliese?"
"...Ain't nobody gonna read that. AAA it is."
| 'Pretty decent.' I thought to myself as I gazed upon the floating characters in front of me. 'How many times I laughed, how many I cried, the longest piss I've ever taken. All just average things.
Except for the list which showed the times people listened to a certain song. fuck yeah did I make it to the 1st place. Aint I ever gonna give that up!'
| 2016-06-08T13:24:02 | 2016-06-08T12:39:54 | 227 | 55 |
[WP] As you arrive in Heaven, you are confident you have lived your best life. You proudly exclaim you are ready to have your soul judged. An angel walks by with diced carrots and chicken stock under his arm and says, “Did you say ‘soul’? Please don’t tell me Earth still has the copy with typos...” | It was all little too on the nose. The long hair, white linen and the bright overhead lights brought an overwhelming sense of deja vu that I had seen this place before on television.
“I’m sorry? I’m not quite sure I understand what you mean.” I sputtered before sheepishly adding an “Oh heavenly one.”
He rolled his eyes and my cheeks heated.
Should I be less formal? Weren’t angels technically soldiers of heaven? Should I salute?
“Oh dear, you definitely haven’t been updated yet.”
With a snap of his fingers we were now in a stainless steel kitchen. An industrial size fridge was behind him and in between us now stood a prep table.
“The rules are simple, and you should at least recognize the ingredients.”
He nodded and a fish, a loaf of bread, and a bottle of wine appeared on the table between us.
“You have an hour to complete your sole dish. Peter will be by to judge when complete.”
“No, you can’t. You don’t understand—“
“Good luck, son of Adam.”
And with that, I was alone.
“Jes—“ I swallowed my curse in case they could still hear.
My fingers curved around the slender neck of the bottle pulling the cork of with an echoing pop. I lifted the cork to my nose and smelled the buttery oak of a white white. I guess it wasn’t all on the nose. It would have been red.
Over in the fridge there was a wide variety of ingredients, some unlike anything I had never seen before.
“I should have been a Catholic like my grandmother,” I grumbled. “If this was the test everyone faced, she would have been on her way to heaven before he even said typo.”
Instead, I had chosen to be a Seventh-day Adventist like my father and had never even touched fish outside of an aquarium kid-zone. The wine bottle met my lips and I swallowed. The wine was alright. Probably better cooking wine than for tasting. But then again, I had always liked boxed wine. I looked at the bottle, wondering which He preferred, but it was blank white.
I walked over to the gas stove with shaky knees and lit and took a long deep look at the fire.
Sure, this wasn’t my forte, but I had watched Food Network. I wasn’t necessarily going there. For a moment, a tendril of flame licked up higher than the rest and I let out a little gasp before pulling a pan over the burner. No. I wouldn’t.
I spotted some oil. Olive, I guessed from the look of it. In that went, and finally I turned back to the steel table where the unimpressive looking brown fish laid. My nose scrunched up at the sight of the thing. Was this what all those stupid bumper stickers were about?
“Sorry buddy,” I said looking deep into the fish’s glassy eye, “but to keep me out of the fire, we got to get you into the frying pan.”
And with a crackle of oil, I began my last supper. | The old man had a stunned expression on his face as he set down his soup. In front of him was a thirty year old televangelist, nervously sweating and fidgeting in anticipation of what the angel was about to say. "Young man...," the old man, finally managing to find his voice. "This is, without a doubt, ... one of the worst soups I have ever tasted in over a millenium. He swirled his spoon through the brown-blackish concoction as he continued to speak in a astonished voice. "Half of the chunks of meat floating here are undercooked and the other half has been burnt to a crisp. Everything's gooey and slimy and smells like wet rubber." "In fact," he said, flipping his bowl upside down and shaking it, "I'm not even sure this qualifies as soup! The entire thing's stuck to the bottom of the bowl!"
The thirty year old man burst into tears and dropped to his knees. "I'm sorry, sir! It's just, I've been so busy worshipping and spreading the glory of God, that I never learned how to cook. I always just order take out!" He looked up with a wild panic in his eyes. "Please, don't send me to Hell over this! I've been good, I swear! I've converted thousands, maybe even tens of thousands to God's light! I've spread peace and virtue by travelling throughout the world! If I had known that his Holy Divinity wanted soup, I would have dedicated myself to making soup day and night!" He paused for breath as a desperate idea suddenly came to him. "Please, send me back! Send me back and I'll tell the masses to give you the best soup there ever was!"
"The best soup there ever was?" the angel responded thoughtfully. He rifled through the files on this desk. It seemed that a serious error in translation had occurred in this version of Earth. Instead of focusing on making excellent soup, the people seemed obsessed with keeping something called a "soul" as pure as possible. What insanity had happened here? This error would have to be corrected as soon as possible.
The angel stood up and waved his hand, and a bright doorway suddenly appeared out of nowhere. The televangelist let out a loud yelp as he suddenly found himself levitating off the ground and being drawn toward the light. "You have five years," the angel spoke in a stern voice. "Five years to spread the Gospel of Soup to the entire world before I will judge you again." The televangelist nodded frantically, even as he felt a sinking sensation in his chest. No one back on Earth, not even the crazy religious nutcases, were going to take this Gospel of Soup stuff seriously. The afterlife was truly a fucked up place. | 2020-11-24T17:13:20 | 2020-11-24T17:09:44 | 1,543 | 610 |
[WP] The alien diplomat showing you their planet directs your gaze to an ancient relic. "Here are the oldest known markings on our world, we still don't know what they represent". You are horrified, as what appear to be meaningless scribbles to them, is a desperate cry for help in your own tongue. | Here's some unsolicited advice: if the aliens who just commandeered your spaceship and arrested you at gunpoint try to tell you *no, don't worry, you're definitely not a prisoner* — don't believe them.
The alien sitting across from me is smiling, primly. I think it's a smile, anyway. It's a baring of sharp teeth in a face like a lantern fish walked out of the abyssal sea one day and started playing space pirate.
So here I am with Fish-face (Fuck-face, maybe, I haven't decided) and I'm glaring at him as we stand (me cuffed, Fish-face armed with my own damn plasma gun) face-to-face in the transport vessel.
It's like a car, sort of. It's a rectangle of metal with seats, anyway. I saw something on the underside that reminded of a giant landborn squid, and even now it carries us forward with a rapid but distinctly sticky *shlick-shlick* sound.
Fish-face fidgets with a translator box. He speaks in a language that's all teeth-clicks and photonic flashes of his stupid little head-antennae-thing.
The translator box offers, in a garbled AI that makes English sound almost foreign, "**You have the cosmic radiation signature of a Terran.**"
I don't know if I'm relieved or insulted that they don't realize they have Titan fucking Armstrong in handcuffs right now. I'm the best spacedust trafficker this side of the pillars of creation. There's a warrant on my name heavy enough to buy any asteroid-hopping pirate a nice little private moon even in a nice galaxy like Andromeda.
I speak into the box, carefully, "Your civilization is probably more advanced than mine, and that's a Federation violation under section 93∆54—"
Fish-face pulls the radio back. Somehow even the robot voice sounds annoyed. "**We are not part of the Federation.**"
"Shit."
"**You translate.**"
I looked at the stupid fish as the transport carrier squelched to a halt. I'd already given up on any inventory, except my most secret of stashes, hidden in the very walls of the ship. No doubt Fish-face's creepy buddies were snorting all my spacedust away. Or gilling it up, as it were.
"I translate, and then you let me take my ship and go?"
The translator box's bubble-click version of my question hangs in the air for a moment.
Now I'm sure Fish-face smiles, and it's not a nice smile.
"**You translate. Then we'll talk.**"
°°°
This planet is flat and dismal. Sulfury yellow skies, gray dying earth.
Our transport comes to a stop at a cylindrical building set into the ground.
My heart is hammering in my throat and I'm wondering why the fuck I ever left earth. Why I dumped all my life savings into buying my first little piece of shit beater of a spaceship. Why I got into trading spacedust and skimming stars.
At first it was the wonder. Every day a new frontier. Spacedust was just a way to finance it.
Now space was like earth: infinite, but I could never run fast enough to escape my problems here, either. And out here, I didn't have anyplace to call home except my crappy little ship and the open air.
The doors to the building open like a fish eyelid, moving sideways. When we step inside, it's all darkness.
I'm standing there with my hands tied in front of me, watching my oxygen tick down. I've got four hours before I'm fucked, if they don't let me back on my ship.
I tell myself I've been in worse places before. I try to believe it.
I follow Fish-face down narrow halls that look carved from dry coral. The building twins downward in a singular persistent spiral, and every wall is a glass display case filled with witch-finger coral skeletons and fossils and weapons that are water-battered and tarnished.
We go down and down until we reach a single room. And upon it is a stone that looks ancient as time. It's massive. It seems to jut up from the floor, as if the floor is only a thin lid over the bottom of the world.
I glance around and realize the walls are all glass, and we are surrounded on all sides by ocean: black water with little darting lights.
Fish-face points. He says through the translator, "**What does it say?**"
"You do know there are thousands of languages on Terra, right, dude?" I say, as if pretending to be calm will make me calm.
I lean forward. I read.
And I frown. My brain pulses like the sea is a fist squeezing this little room.
There's my name. Right there.
**Titan Armstrong, run — they're going to kill us.**
°°°
The rest is down below :D thanks for reading! | The tablet in front of me, in the middle of the museum, was bringing up two questions immediately. The first was, 'what the hell?' and the second was... a lot more complicated by formulating in my brain.
"Is everything alright?" Inessa asked. My translater did its best to match the tone and words that she intended with her speech. "Your expression is similar to the human example of worry that your species provided us."
For half a second, I considered lying. I was here to be an introduction to humans for a species that was experiencing their uplift. This implied a human going far out of Council Controlled bounds. This implied breaking over several hundred codes. This im- The implications were something for the commanders to figure out. "I can read it," I announced to the diplomat and small entourage of photographers that had been following us through the natural history museum.
"My god, your translator, you informed us of much be incredibly p-" Inessa cut herself off as I rifled through my pocket for my notebook. Sure, it was old-fashioned to have something like this on a diplomatic rendezvous, but it was proving useful today. I shoved the notebook into her hand. "What is this?" she asked.
"Look at the letters on the paper inside," I said. There was a brief moment of silence as the translators worked before she cracked open the notebook and her eyes scanned over the contents. She stared at it, and then up at the Tablet of Ashrika, and then back at my notebook.
"I-"- she looked at it, "Ashr-"
"No," I cut that concept off before it got too far down the rabbit hole. I wasn't the person who wrote this. "Inessa," I took the notebook back from her shaking hands and folded it away in my pocket. "You're the only one here fitted with a translator. So I'm just speaking to you right now. Correct?"
She shook her head, but I knew that was affirmative for her. "The tablet is written in English. Specifically, English I can understand, which means, in human language terms, it can't be more than several hundred years old."
"The relic is older than any known writing we have from our people over tens of thousands of years of history."
I did my best to smile like she'd shared an impressive fact with me as much as this should have been a private conversation. The present reporters would surely be able to understand what she was communicating to me. "I understand that," I clarified. "Right now, I can think of two options, and I need you to be calm for both of them, okay?"
Inessa shook her head again.
"One. This isn't the artifact, but a human stole it at some point before our official first contact. If I can get access to this behind the barrier," I motioned to the tablet beyond the humming yellow screen, "we can scan it to see if it's a fake."
I couldn't translate much emotion off Fotuan faces, but pain and doubt were universal enough for me to read them.
"Focus," I said. Inessa shook her head again and took half a breath to steel herself. "The other possibility is that this is legitimate and that there is something extraordinary going on with both of our languages. Maybe strikingly similar etymological roots." After half a second of Inessa fiddling with the headset we'd given her, I changed my wording around, "word history."
"Okay," she said. The translator made her voice shallow, like she could barely breathe.
"Either way, it's best not to do this in front of people. If you agree with me there, we end the tour right now and meet with our supervisors before trying to figure this out. Otherwise, if you don't want to tell anyone yet, let's move onto the next thing in the list."
"Right this way, then, sir," Inessa motioned for me to follow her, and I gave her a swift nod. First contact training had prepared me for moments when the train might derail, but it was never quite like this. People were always worried about guns getting pulled or accidentally offending a new species; it was never like this.
I took one last look at the tablet as we rounded the corner. Etched deep in the rock was a long plea.
*Please, I just want to go home.*
*My name is Commander Ghel Raita*
*Oxygen is running out.*
*I'm out of ammo.*
*Nobody is going to find this.*
*Mom, Varli, I'm sorry,*
—-
*Hey it’s me! Check out /r/Jacksonwrites for more stuff.*
*I enjoyed giving the alien agency instead of just being like HFY. Woo. Hope it’s interesting. I need to sleep.* | 2021-04-22T22:04:11 | 2021-04-22T21:21:35 | 2,841 | 528 |
[WP] Write your own satirical news article in the style of The Onion. | New York City, New York 12/30/14
SOURCES SAY ALL FLIGHTS IN THE WORLD ARRIVED SAFELY AT DESTINATIONS
written by *murph_diver*
In a stunning turn of non-events, it has been confirmed by multiple sources that nothing of significant importance among major airlines in the world has happened today.
A spokesperson for American Airlines had this to say:
"This marks a truly unremarkable day in history as travelers around the world were involved with absolutely nothing worthy of reporting. We estimate that over the course of the next 4 days, there may be a complete lack of things happening."
However, some national personalities are refuting these reports.
As Sean Hannity of Fox News was quoted:
"The American people are once again being misled by the liberal-leftist media. This is just a distraction meant to keep the middle class from taxes and uh, Obamacare... because, terrorism and possibly gay marriage."
When asked about his outbursts, a spokesperson for the White House replied:
"...the fuck?" | **UN tests newest *Strongly Worded Letter* in the Bikini Atolls**
Last Friday, December 26th, 2014, the UN tested the newest weapon in their arsenal, the SWL 37. The SWL 37 uses a container of stiff formality to trigger a high-density legal core for a predicted outcome of nearly 40 giga-shames.
The test completed successfully, dealing nearly a disappointed mother's worth of shame damage to the entire island.
North Korea and Russia voiced complaints about the test, calling it a "Unconscionable provocation" and vowed enhancements to their own documents of destruction. The UN has no comment at this time. | 2014-12-30T09:04:11 | 2014-12-30T08:57:03 | 33 | 19 |
[WP] You're a powerful dragon that lived next to a small kingdom. For centuries you ignored humanity and lived alone in a cave, and the humans also avoided you. As the kingdom fell to invaders, a dying soldier approaches you with the infant princess, begging you to take care of her. | The Knight burst into the cave gently holding the swaddled infant princess. "Please, I beg of you, take care of her, there is nothing we can do"
The dragon looked around and saw the child placed and the base of his mountain of gold. "It shall be done" came the reply.
With that the child was instantly incinerated with one breath.
"What the fuck Raffi, the firebreather!"
"You said take care of the child!" Came the dragon's reply.
"Was this what happened to my cat when I asked you to take care of it?" said Sir Randy the Dirty
"Yes! You said take care of it, I set it on fire!" | The soldier held out the baby and struggled to stand up right. He was clearly beyond hope. From lips turning blue he said "P-please.. It's.. It's the princess...."
The dragon looked at him for the longest time and then said
"No"
A great door slammed in his face.
And thus ended the tale of Mjolnir the grumpy dragon. | 2018-03-01T03:23:07 | 2018-03-01T03:18:37 | 135 | 21 |
[WP] You just let a hungry-looking couple into your home to feed them. As you go to turn off the TV, you hear, “under no circumstances should you answer the door today. They are not what they seem. And whatever you do, don’t let them inside...” | Maybe it was guilt or maybe it was curiosity, but regardless of the circumstances here we are with two strangers sitting on my couch. They seemed innocent enough. A boy and a girl, a young couple who had been out hiking the trails nearby, gotten lost, and finally found their bearings. They were seeking some nourishment before finishing their trek back to their hometown. From the small talk, I've gathered their names, Rebecca and James. High School Sweethearts who had gotten married after graduating, settled down in a town fifteen minutes from here. This was their fourth year of marriage and they had a growing concern that they were just going through the motions. In a sudden burst of inspiration, they decided that they would take up hiking as a hobby as a way to spice up their relationship. Well it would appear they got more then they bargained for as this was their first adventure and it had failed spectacularly. What was originally supposed to have been a three day simple trek became a seven day nightmare as they veered of the intended trail on the second day and got disoriented. They joked that in the future they would just stick to camping in the backyard.
After the appropriate time of exchanging pleasantries had passed, I suggested that they go ahead upstairs and clean themselves while I scrounge up something for them to eat. As they headed upstairs, I made a motion to turn off the TV when suddenly my attention had been drawn to what the broadcaster was saying, "*Warning, They are not what they seem. Whatever you do, don't let them inside. . .*". An immediate feeling of dread filled my body, weighing it down. For a short moment, I was completely incapable of performing any action. After the momentary paralysis, anxiety slowly started to creep up culminating in my chest. What do I do? Do I run? Do I confront them? From my initial judgement, I believe that I am stronger then both of them. No, I shouldn't confront them. Its not time to lay the cards down yet. We need something more subtle. I can hear the shower running as I slowly make my way upstairs. Good! I can use this as an opportunity to gather some intelligence undetected. I make my way towards the bathroom door, when suddenly a voice pierces me from behind.
"Whats going on?", James says as he moves from out of the shadows of the guest bedroom.
"Oh-uhh-I-uh wanted-d to make sure you guys have towels.. uh were you able to find them?", I struggle to get out as I turn around to face James as he makes his way out of the doorway and down the hall towards me. I notice him shuffle something back into the room as he clears the door frame and an ominous thud as it plummeted to the floor.
"Yes, we found them in the closet like you mentioned. Rebecca is in the shower now and when she is finished I am going to take my turn. . . uh how is the food going?"
"OH Yess, the food. I'm actually just going to prep it now is stew ok? I apologize I got caught up with the TV show that we were watching downstairs."
James gave me a weird look. He looked as if he was about to ask me a question but suddenly said.
"Uhh-yeah Stew sounds great. . . thanks by the way"
James then moved past me towards the bathroom still bearing a suspicious look as we exchanged glances. I quickly moved down the hallway towards the stairs but slowed up as I crossed the threshold of the guest bedroom. There it was. I couldn't make out the object completely but the distinctive shine all but gave it away as i peered out of the corner of my eye. A knife.
I kept pacing the kitchen. Occasionally, opening and shutting a cabinet looking for nothing in particular. I continued to debate about what we were going to do about these intruders. We can't run away we have to take care of this situation now. They know where I live. They've seen my face. I know! I didn't realize how much of a blessing it would be, but the rodent problem I've had means that I have left over rat poison in the garage. Quickly I made my way to garage and grabbed the small container and shuffled back into the kitchen. I put the container on the counter and began furiously grabbing the materials I would need for the stew. I started warming up the stove top. In my rush I accidentally knocked over a vial containing my pills. As I reached down to grab them a pair of feet were greeting me in the doorway.
"Hey" Said Rebecca as I sprung to my feet with the vial. I corralled the vial and the container of poison recklessly into the cabinet while my back obstructed her view, "Is everything alright?"
"Uhh yeah everything is great yeah. ..uhh-sorry I'm just in a rush to get this stew ready"
"Oh no rush, James told me. Stew sounds great. You know. . . I just wanted to thank you by the way. .There's not many good people like you anymore. Most people these days wouldn't take in a couple of dirty looking strangers just knocking on their door. Your a kind soul." Rebecca had made her way into the room at this point and rested her hand on my shoulder just briefly as she delivered the complement. There was something just a little off with the grin she gave me as she said this. For a moment I said nothing, but the TV in the background helped break my trance.
"OF COURSE! uh haha...y-you gotta help your fellow neighbor when they are in need. . . because uh you never now when you will need them to return the favor", "I agree!, well I'm going to head back up stairs to get James. He will be in the shower forever if I don't stop him. . haha", "Haha- great uh take your time, dinner will take another thirty"
It has to be done. How much is enough to kill a person? I don't want to add too much. That will tip them off that there something in the stew. Lets see here, it says only a gram is require to neutralize rodents so-uh lets do the math umm. . . 16 grams does that sound right? Yeah that should work.
thirty minutes has come and passed and Rebecca and James have found their way to the dining room. They are talking in a oddly low tone when I enter. Suddenly realizing my presence they stop.
"Oh great the Foods ready!" James proclaims as I go ahead and sit the pot on the table.
"YUP! dig in!" Stupid! you sound too confident they are going to know something is up.
"Great, why don't you get first dibs, after all it is your handiwork" Rebecca exclaimed as I take my seat across from them.
"No. .. no I can't. I must insist you guys must be starving and you are guests I couldn't possibly. . .",
"You sure? . . . " James retorted
"Of course please eat up tell me how it is".
James and Rebecca begin to fill their bowls and eat. I slowly begin to fill my bowl exaggerating each spoonful I pour. I notice the TV again. It sounds like it is getting louder but I can't make out the program playing.
"Yum this is delicious" remarks James
"Yes very well done" follows Rebecca between spoonfuls
"Thanks. . uh its an old family rec-" I start to say but James cuts me off coughing.
"Oh its a little Ho- *cough* uh *cough* I-" James starts but I can't make out the rest the TV is getting louder. Rebecca begins to join James in this fit.
"Yeah I-I *cough* guess its a lit-ttle H- *cough*"
TV gets even louder I can start to make out voice, "*Yes don't let them leave. . they want to hurt you*",
"Whats- Goi *cough* ng on *cough*" James is now grabbing his throat.
"Oh my *cough* GODD! James a-are you *cough*" Rebecca now joins James clutching her throat. The TV is getting even louder,"*Good Work, they were going to hurt you. . . they are bad. . . bad people*" they look at me and start to utter something but I cut them off.
" I UHH CAN'T HEAR YOU, T-THE TV",
"W-wha. . *cough* W-wha" James starts to say but can't finish
"J-J-James. . *cough* whats g-going on *cough*",
"THE TV, SPEAK UP I CAN'T HEAR YOU OVER THE TV",
"*Yes this is it we are finally going to be safe*",
"WHAT FUCKING TV?!?!?"
Rebecca and James stop trying to speak. for a moment or so they exchange terrified glances with each other. wheezing and coughing, tears filling their eyes. they continue to struggle for a second or so and then as if choreographed, both slump over the table
*THUD*
*TV STATIC*
| It’s funny, in a way. Just the other day, I had been thinking about how nothing exciting ever happens. You hear a knock on the door, and your mind immediately associates it with something normal or mediocre. Maybe it’s the mailman. Possibly a neighbor that wants me to move my car. My heart flutters at any notion or entertainment in my head that even remotely resembles something out of the ordinary. Maybe it was a burglar (and not a very good one); would I be able to defend myself or close the door in time? Possibly an old friend that wants to make amends, one that I haven’t seen in years.
I don’t think that way anymore. What a foolish and naïve way to think…
The one thing I remember about that night was that it was raining. Have you heard a clock ticking in a quiet room? It’s quite calming at first, but somehow, it seems to get louder and louder. You try not to think about it, but there it is, ticking non-stop, invading your eardrums with every painstaking second. You expect your brain to trick itself into thinking that you’ll get used to it, but it just keeps getting Louder and Louder. Every. Single. Tick. LOUDER. AND LOUDER.
Well that’s pretty much how the rain went that night. Like screeching in my ears. It was so calm when I first heard the knocking. Darkness had already plagued the night sky, and all the clouds just made it worse, as if God wasn’t watching anymore. I doubt he was. I didn’t get up until the second knock after doubting the first. I opened the door slowly. Finally, something exciting!
Two young-looking people greeted me, flashing warm, white smiles at me, both brunette. The young man was very handsome, his face rugged and defined. He had steel blue eyes that could both intimidate and seduce a person. And the young woman was equally as stunning and just as fierce. Her eyes were wide with a greenish hue. Full of life and wonder. I was already willing to let them into my house and not a word had escaped their lips.
“Hey, oh my gosh, thank you so much for answering! Our car broke down in the middle of the storm, and we just wanted to see if we could call someone. Both of our phones aren’t getting any signal, damn Verizon…” she said gleefully, charismatically. I was eating up every single word like dessert.
“Yea, we’d really appreciate it if you could help us out a bit,” the man said. His voice was somehow vulnerable despite giving off this manly vibe. How could I not help them? They were in such need. I wanted to help, and I wanted to know their story.
“Sure! Sure,” I said twice, obviously flustered and taken in by the atmosphere they had crafted. I moved myself out of the way and practically invited them inside, as if I was the one who was honored. They gave even more cheerful smiles as they slipped by me, their stylish clothes soaked by nature. There’s that heart flutter I mentioned.
The rain got a bit louder.
I closed the door behind them and showed them where the phone was. They looked so thin and famished. Whatever journey they were on together must have been a long one.
“Would you guys like something to eat? You two look like your starving,” I said, slightly concerned, wanting to take care of my two new guests.
“Yes, we would,” the man said, flashing a small smile towards his companion, “but we don’t want to trouble you, the phone is just fine.”
“Nonsense!” I replied, marching myself off to the kitchen almost immediately after. “I’ll make something you guys can take on the road.”
I started taking out a few slices of bread and some peanut butter. Obviously, I wasn’t the greatest cook in the world, but I thought they would appreciate the gesture.
The rain got louder.
“So what are your names?” I asked out loud. I could hear them chattering in the other room to each other. Seemed casual enough, but they didn’t respond. I heard the girl giggling, so I decided to ask again in a clearer tone. “Um, what are your names?”
“Uhh, Jack,” he said, the girl laughing a bit more now, trying hard to stifle it. I got a little nervous as I spread the peanut butter on one of the slices of bread.
“O-Okay,” I said, laughing a bit too out of politeness. “Nice to meet you, Jack. So what’s your girlfriend’s name?”
“Jill!” She said, laughing more abruptly, her boyfriend letting out a chuckle as he tried to stop her from laughing so much. I felt more uneasy.
The rain got louder.
“Nice to meet you, Jill,” I said.
I gulped silently to myself and switched to a steak knife instead of a butter knife while I was out of their sight. Suddenly, the laughter stopped. I held my breath for a moment, hoping they would start up again. Even laughter was better than silence. Silence and rain.
I slowly walked back into the living room. The TV was muted from earlier, but I could still read the captions.
“UNDER NO CIRUMSTANCES SHOULD YOU ANSWER THE DOOR TODAY. THEY ARE NOT WHAT THEY SEEM. AND WHATEVER YOU DO, DO NOT LET THEM INSIDE.”
I read. And I saw a picture of two people, one was of a man with long, black hair. The other was a girl with short blond hair. Different people, I assumed. But their eyes… they were the same steel blue eyes from before. And the girl’s, the same as well, wide with a greenish hue.
The rain got louder.
I felt an empty dread well up inside me. Every step I made had an audible creak to it, and I was suddenly aware of all of my surroundings. I looked intently at the archway to the dining door, beyond it was nothingness. I stood with my back close to the wall, hoping to give myself a good footing for whatever was next.
“Jack…? Jill…?”
“We’re over here,” she said, startling me. Her calm, soothing voice echoed through the dark dining room.
“C-Could you come out here then?” I said, shivering, gripping my knife as hard as I could.
“Sure.”
The rain got louder.
She stepped out into the archway, her skin was pale white, drained of blood. She smiled at me as wide as she could, her teeth sharp and hungry looking. The greenish hue filled her eye sockets. She looked like an animal. Her hair looked dead black, wild and frayed, as if she were wearing the hair of someone already long gone. Her arms and legs elongated in an unnatural way, causing her knees to pop in the opposite direction as she went down on all fours. I didn’t have time to breath or think, but my eyes were filled with despair, as if death was staring at me, starving. Wanting to peel the flesh off my bones until I became nothing.
She charged at me, her claws digging into the floorboard with each step. I yelled fiercely out of desperation and fear, doing my best to avoid her swipe, and I dug the knife deep into her dead neck. She screamed out in pain as the male came out, looking at me with ferocity and rage, but hunger all the same.
“LEAVE!” I threatened as he pierced through me with his gaze. I held my stance and sliced through her neck further, pinning her down to the floor. He let out a demonic yell, like an animal born in hellfire, and darted out the door, his lover screaming in pain. I took my knife out of her, wanting to finish the job, but instead, I kicked her body away from me. Her disturbing body limped and flailed its way out of my house, leaving black blood on the floor, like oil, but thicker, nastier.
I ran back into the kitchen to call the police and fell down in the corner of the room, blood pouring out from my thigh. It burned as I waited.
I cried to myself, clutching the knife to my chest, waiting for them to come back and finish the job, but they never did.
The rain got louder. I couldn’t sleep until it stopped.
In fact, I could never sleep through the rain after that night.
It just keeps getting louder… and louder.
God help me.
---
/r/StoriesByDamiascus
--- | 2018-03-14T09:36:09 | 2018-03-14T08:58:56 | 28 | 16 |
[WP] "Unfortunately, you do not meet the requirements for this particular heaven however, I can provide you with a list of afterlifes that you may qualify for." | There once was an angel with a very boring job. Around the clock newcomers to Heaven would settle in and enjoy all the splendor Heaven had to offer. And he would watch.
As an employee of Heaven this angel could only stand at his post outside his gate and wait for any curious enough people to find their way over to him.
By and large people were content to pay him no mind, and he was content with this too. Occasionally there would be those who would ask about the gate and his role standing by it. For the most part he would have the unfortunate duty of politely turning them away, though there were those who he would invite inside to see for themselves what lay beyond.
In front of the angel stood a podium where he kept his clipboard that had three pages for him to read. A page dedicated to proper procedure when first approached, a page that had a list of names listed to either be granted or denied entry, and a final page that was for anyone who acted in a way that wasn't covered by the first two pages.
He had never needed to look beyond page two until she arrived in Heaven.
From his post the angel watched as she took her tour around Heaven. There was nothing particularly out of the ordinary at first until she spotted him and his gate. Their eyes locked and she made a beeline towards him, leaving her guide behind without a word.
The angel looked over his notes on the first page and prepared to greet her.
"Hello! How are you enj-"
"Fine, thanks, what's with this gate?"
The angel had never been interrupted before and had to take a moment to look over his notes.
"Excuse me, I asked you a question"
"Er, yes.. well this right here is the entrance to Heaven Premium™ and-"
"Thank you so much, have a nice day"
She said no longer looking at the angel and heading straight for the gate.
"If you could just wait a moment I have a list here that I need to check before you can go in..." The angel began frantically scanning the list as she began rattling the gate, seemingly unaware of the fact that the angel had said anything.
"What's wrong with this gate, it's stuck."
"Unfortunately, you do not meet the requirements for this particular Heaven however, I can provide you with a list of afterlifes that you may qualify for." The angel read out his line at the bottom of page two, stopping at the part instructing to turn the page should that not work.
"This is rediculous, I want to speak to your manager."
The angel took a deep breath and turned to page three.
The angel and the woman went back and forth about how it was out of his hands and that the rules were very clear, but she persisted. Eventually a small que began to form and the angel was forced to call his manager to sort it out while he delt with the less argumentative residents of Heaven.
His manager had to eventually call over his manager, and eventually God himself walked out of the gate to Heaven Premium™ followed by various religious leaders and secretary's. God took one look at the woman and immediately assured her that there had in fact been a mistake and that he would see to it that she would be put in the right place.
Satisfied the woman walked away after thanking everyone in attendance and flashing a bright smile to each of the people she had previously been in a long drawn out argument with.
Once the woman was out earshot God asked who had let Karen in. | "Wait whoa, whoa. The fuck you mean I don't qualify for heaven? What you tryin' to say, pal?"
**"I did not say you don't qualify at all, sir. If that was the case, we wouldn't be having this conversation. I said you don't qualify for this particular heaven. As in, this one behind me."**
"You mean there's more than one?"
**"Of course. Each with their own amenities, customization options, localization packages..."**
"I knew that Father Tony was a lyin' piece of shit. You better not tell me that shifty bastard made it up here over me, is he in there?"
**"Misinformed is probably a better term. And I am not at liberty to discuss the arrangements of other clients, sir."**
"Bah, whatever. So you gonna let me in or what?"
**"I can't do that, sir."**
"How you gonna tell me I don't qualify? I lived a decent life. I went to church, I ain't killed nobody, I ain't steal shit... Well, I mean, besides that one time, but that really shouldn't count since I brought the shit back the next day when I was done with it. Ain't my fuckin' fault Frankie's stupid ass didn't even notice it was gone til —"
**"Sir?"**
"Quit fuckin' callin' me sir."
**"This heaven is for our especially good clients only."**
"The fuck you just say to me? You sayin' I'm a bad fuckin' person? Come down from there asshole, I'll show you what the fuck a bad person looks li—"
**"You were not a bad person... you just weren't a GOOD person."**
"You sayin' it different don't make it sound any better."
**"Does this heaven really look like your kind of place? White clouds and hymns for all eternity?"**
"Yeah! Well, uh... I mean, come on man, yeah."
**"Really?"**
"Fuck. OK, fine. No, it don't. But how the fuck would I know until you let me in and I try it out?"
**"Sigh..."**
"Did you just say the word 'sigh' out loud?"
**"Just take a look at the list."**
"Fine. Hmm... Good Enough Eternal. The hell is Good Enough supposed to mean?"
**"I thought you might notice that one. Think of it like living on Earth, but tweaked to your liking and without minor inconveniences."**
"Huh. So... I can still watch my games?"
**"Any sport, any time, on an 86 inch 8K TV."**
"Beer?"
**"Always cold."**
"Cops?"
**"Never bother you."**
"Girls?"
**"Your wife."**
"Can't win 'em all..."
**"What do you think?"**
"Eh... Yeah, sure. I'll make it work."
**"I'm sure you will, sir. Right this way."** | 2020-02-13T15:54:01 | 2020-02-13T15:50:45 | 15 | 10 |
[WP] Legend says there are 77777 secret paths to immortality, but each path will only work once. In 2014, the first person accidentally achieved immortality by sticking a French fry into her nostril and pulling it out the other intact. Human behaviour has since become more... interesting. | Ages ago, one act of random bullshit at a party led to a series of events that created the Ultimates. That's what we call them, antway. Immortals. Seventy-seven thousand, seven hundred seventy-seven humans that are completely immortal and invincible. It took around 77 years to find all the ways, and a register was created to know how many were left. Some were asanine and stupid, like the man who sang an entire opera in a public bathroom in swahili, or the guy who did something stupid witout asking someone to hold his beer, and kept the beer safe. Others were stranger, requiring specific weather or sound combinations, and a few were earned for incredible advancements in science like Nobel prizes. One even happened for no discernable reason, leading experts to believe it was some kind of cosmic lottery.
Regardless, it's all old news. The Ultimates earned their immortality through dumb luck, perseverance, or some combination of the two. We have about 95% of them registered and they mostly keep to themselves, aside from a few immortal pop culture icons. A scant few went insane and were locked away. But one thing is clear: as far as humanity knows, the number of remaining paths to immortality is a whopping zero.
So why am I doing this again? Is it to know? Is it some forgotten hope to cheat death like so many lost their lives trying? Have I finally lost it?
...nah, I'm just an idiot. Besides, I spent way too long searching the woods and the mountain to give up now. I climb over the top of the rise and come face to face with my project for the past year: Nathaniel Gabenheim. The last human to earn immortality. The only immortal to 'kill' himself. Encased himself under a ton of concrete in an undisclosed location after losing his wife and child in childbirth, hoping to rest eternally with her one way or another.
Day after day I've chipped though the concrete with a pickaxe in the summer heat, hoping to free him from his stony prison. And today, as my first few swings crack apart the stone, I hear a gasp of air, as though it was held for a hundred years.
"I... I'm free? Who's there? I can't see anything!" The voice sounds familiar, but raspy from a century of silence.
"Hang on, I'm coming!" I wail away at the rock, pulling the boken peices apart, finally revealing... my own face, staring bewildered back at me.
"Who..." Nathaniel takes a moment to cough more dust out of his mouth. "Who are you and why do you look like me?"
"Me? My name is Nate. Nate Gabenheim." I pause for that to sink in. "...your son survived. That man was my grandfather, and he spent his life looking for you. I'm your great grandson... and the spitting image of you, as I've been told."
"My son's alive?!"
"No... I'm afraid he passed on a few months ago. He gave me all his notes in his will and begged me to continue the search for the father he never knew. It's nice to finally meet you."
"Nate, then. Please, rebury me. As nice as it is to know my family is alive, the world just isn't the same without her. Please."
"But-"
"Please! I don't want my immortality. I just want to be with her. Please..."
I sigh. It seems like that's all I'll get from him. Reluctantly, I crawl out of the tunnel I dug. "Fine... I brought a bag of cement with me, just in case. I don't want to, but..."
"Thank you."
"You're wel-" I turn back to Nathaniel and let out a gasp. What was a vibrant face just moments before is now naught but a skull. And I can feel and see a soft glow emanate from my chest for a brief moment.
The seventy-seven thousand, seven hundred seventy-eighth immortal climbed out of the grave of the one who gave up his immortality for love. He refilled the hole with an understanding smile, departing home for his beloved immortal wife. He wondered how long it would take her to notice the surprise he had for her... that she wouldn't be alone forever anymore. As he left the clearing, he glanced back at the pile of concrete, a single sentence in two voices echoing across the glade.
"Thank you... now I can be with my wife forever." | It all changed so suddenly. I had small talked with a stranger about how good the weather was just some minutes ago. But now dark, ominous clouds covered the sky like chocolate syrup after being added to vanilla ice cream. The road I was walking on was now clear and lonely. I kept walking but I had a feeling I wasn't getting anywhere.
And then I saw it. A blur. A silhouette of a creature at a distance. It was the only thing that was getting closer to me as I walked towards it. The figure kept getting bigger and bigger. There was no looking back. I was now face to face with a cloaked stranger, and something told me small talk about the weather wouldn't be a good icebreaker. He was tall, Taller than anyone I had ever met. He held a stick, a scepter if you will.
​
"Greetings Billy."
"How..how did you know my name?" I blurted out. I had a lot of other questions, but I didn't mean to be rude. I needed to form a base before asking personal questions like "WHAT THE *FUCK* ARE YOU?".
​
The stranger didn't answer. He continued to look down at me through his cloak. After a year or so of uncomfortable silence, the cloak spoke in his heavy echoed voice.
​
"It seems like you're the last of them. The sole survivor. Ever since I gained the boon of immortality after shitting myself while peeing, no one could defeat me. Even the french fry God has perished. He still remains, locked up in my basement, immortal but defeated. I've waited a long time to do this Billy."
​
"R-Reese? Is that you?"
"That's LORD REESE for you, peasant. I'll never forget the way you laughed at me and spread my story. Even the teachers had started calling me feces reese."
​
Billy suddenly felt intense pain in his thumb and index finger. It was like they were being bent against his will. He winced in pain.
​
"You think you're too special, aren't you? Well you can't play the guitar to impress my mom again now!"
"Fe-Reese I'm sorry for treating you that way but you need to stop this madness. This isn't you!"
​
Lord Reese used his force to grab Billy by his neck and make him levitate. Billy struggled to breathe. He then threw him back onto the ground."You're nothing. NOTHING. I can squash you like a bug right now in a second. But I'll end you in a more fabulous way."
​
Strong winds had started to blow, the sky looked like it was going to fall down any minute. A mixture of rain, hail, sand was all piercing through the atmosphere. Lord Reese charged up for one final attack. He turned his back to Billy, unleashing his true power the same way he had got it. In one desperate attempt, Billy tried to block the attack, using his 3 remaining fingers that were forming a circle now, and formed a shield by crossing his arms like he had seen in the movies. He put his head down into the hole that had been formed by the crossing of the hands as he braced himself for impact.
​
\*FNSJDFSDOMSFDOFSDMIOOISD\*
​
The winds had stopped. Intense sunlight had returned, shining right at Lord Reese. But Lord Reese was on his knees now, and Billy was the one who levitated above the Earth, glowing as the Sun's rays shined off of him.
​
"No..no it can't be. You're.."
"I'm immortal."
​
Reese rolled up in a ball, tears rolling down his cloak now. "How..How did you..how did you know about the Circle game double dab Billy?"
​
"That's Lord Billy for you, peasant. Now will you surrender now or do you want it to get ugly, like it did that day in the bathroom?"
"No..the circle game double dab can't be that powerful. HOW IS IT SO POWERFUL?"
"Well if it isn't that powerful.." replied God "Then why is the reader attempting to do it right now?" | 2019-07-23T10:06:37 | 2019-07-23T08:22:15 | 702 | 24 |
[WP] People's powers match their personality: impatient people get super speed, protective people get force fields and so on. Explaining why you have your power is... difficult. | "C'mon, just tell me," she said, leaning her elbows on the table and facing me, eagerly.
"I'm telling you, it's not that impressive. Hardly a discussion for a first date."
"I think it's the perfect discussion. If you don't tell me..."
I felt a sudden urge to blurt it out, but I composed myself. Her mind powers were going to take a while to get used to.
"Okay, fine, I'll tell you. But we might as well get comfortable. Tea?"
She started as I produced a warm teapot from under my jacket and set it on the table.
"Sugar? Honey?" I placed both of these on the table as well. A candle and a lighter came out next.
She made a face, as if she was trying to appear startled rather than amused. "Anything else you've got under your sleeve?"
I lit the candle to pause for effect, and then pulled out a couple of soft throws. "What's your favorite author?" I asked as I handed a blanket to her.
"Um..."
I slid her favorite book across the checkered table before she could answer. The booth we were seated at now had a much cozier feel, and was attracting a few looks from the other people in the diner. I pulled my blanket over my knees, and tossed her a pillow.
"So what kind of powers *do* you have?" She asked again inquisitively.
I couldn't resist the urge this time. "Well you see, I'm just...a bit stressed." | My name is Jimmy and I am horny.
They say men can’t go 30 seconds without thinking of sex. I can go for about 10 seconds without wanting to hump someone.
Normally to get through the days I “work the plumbing” every 2-3 hours and in between I eat Riesen candy.
“Excuse me Jimmy, but why did the city send you to my office” questions Dr. Sup
“It’s ok honey, you can talk to him. Help him help you be the best Jimmy you can be”, replies my girlfriend Angela.
Ok honey. So where was I, oh yeah Riesens candy. So my condition isn’t easy to handle, but then one day I found out I have this power. I can conjure Angela.
The therapist looks confused and interrupts “conjure Angela?”
Yes, my girl. My boo, she’s right here next to me.
The therapist looks confused, there is no one next to Jimmy from his point of view.
“Jimmy, when is the last time you had a girlfriend? Before you “met” Angela”.
The room suddenly shakes. Objects begin levitating. The therapist looks frightened, Jimmy is as calm as can be.
“Jimmy, honey. Please explain to the gentlemen that I am not a figment of your imagination”. | 2019-09-08T10:13:02 | 2019-09-08T09:23:31 | 84 | 46 |
[WP] The demon couldn't believe his luck to find such a willing victim to possess. As it possessed them, instead of fighting back like they usually do, this one said "Good luck. You'll need it."
EDIT: Thanks for the awards guys! I've been on this site for 7 years and this is the first time I've received any. | I never expected humans to be so delectable. I smelled her as soon as I clawed my way out of the portal—a lingering trail of sweetness perfuming the air. The trail led me to this sleeping beauty. Her hair fanned behind her head in a fiery halo, and her pale skin glowed beneath the moonlight like a beckoning beacon.
Her soul was overpowering, dizzying me with her aroma. She was so ripe for the taking, and I was addicted to her intoxicating aura—a spice of untapped dreams and endless wants, enhanced with a shadow of resentment. She had so many delicious desires and I couldn’t resist the feast.
I readied for the resistance, but she welcomed me in with eagerness and relief. With each tantalizing taste of her, I wanted more and more until we were whole, a yin yang of two souls. She gave herself to me completely, and I devoured her until her body was mine, and then she laughed, leaving a bitter aftertaste in my mouth.
I slurped up her final sip of nectar, and she whispered, “Good luck, you’ll need it.”
Luck meant nothing to a demon such as I. A demon who escaped the jails of hell and crawled through the cracks of the earth to reach the human realm. A demon who finally found freedom.
My eyes blinked open and I peered through the darkness. I could barely make out the shadowy shapes in the room, even after my eyes adjusted. Human senses were so muted, but I would adapt. I tried to move my legs, but they refused to budge. Nor could I wiggle even the tiniest of my toes. My limbs were heavy and lifeless—entirely immobile.
A scream ripped through me but it didn’t make it past my throat. Only my eyes could move, could sense, could see.
There was no sound when I realized I’d escaped one hell only to be trapped in another.
\*\*\*\*\*
Thanks for reading! Feel free to read more at r/rulerofstorybears | The man just let me take over completely. The lust was upon me, the blood-rage roaring in my ears, claws extended in both dimensions, pulling, rending, scraping... Only then when it was too late did I realise something was wrong. My victims had never reacted like this before, in all the millennia.
'Good luck,' the man said. 'You'll need it.'
I was suddenly alone in his inner world. Usually by now the victim was cowering in uncontrollable fear and I could see every single thing about them, every shameful thought and word and deed. But here: nothing. I was possessing the man, as I had done countless times before, but it was like I was in a cave underground, or deep underwater or in a...
...prison. The sensation of fear was so unfamiliar to me, so long dormant, that at first I could not recognise it. At once I went to back out, to leave him, but it was too late. The doors opened only one way.
I howled, a sound of hate and rage that would have been enough to shred the sanity of every one of my previous victims, but here the noise just echoed and fell away back to terrible silence.
Then I was not alone. There was something else here with me. Something in the corners, coming closer. Half unseen in shadows even to me, the lord of the unseen.
'BE AWAY!' I cried. But it came closer, and closer, and I realised: It was not coming *from* the dark. It *was* the dark.
I howled again and rued the moment I had seen this man and his hideous secrets, and then the dark closed upon me.
\--
Subscribe at r/HouseBlendMedium for more if you like it :-) | 2020-12-21T12:20:20 | 2020-12-21T12:05:54 | 752 | 138 |
[WP] As the vampire drew closer, the woman sobbed, please, don’t drink my blood. The vampire stopped and said, actually that’s a myth, we don’t drink blood. That’s a rumor we started hundreds of years ago to cover for what we really do. | "S-so you're not going to drink my blood?"
"No," the vampire chuckles. "It doesn't even make that much sense you think about it. Poking two 1 centimeter wide holes in someone's neck? And no one notices? And the holes are supposed to just, what, magically seal up? C'mon."
"I-I guess? But why are you chasing me then? What do you want?!"
"Well... you see, we *do* drink something from humans."
The woman looks at the vampire puzzled, but then her face contorts in even more terror, and much more disgust, than before.
"...Why are you looking at me like that?" the vampire asks. He notices the woman now clutching and pushing down her skirt. "Wait, oh no, no not that! We don't drink *that*. Oh man that would be so gross."
"What then?"
"You see, there's many reasons why we are the way we are - hiding in the shadows, having long fangs, spreading rumors about killing or eating or drinking the blood of humans - it's all for one simple purpose. Fear. We *need* humans to fear us when we reveal ourselves to you."
"So you drink... our fear?"
The vampire sighs.
"No. It's..." he covers his face in slight embarassment. "It's sweat. We drink sweat."
"..."
"..."
"*What?*"
"I know, I know, it's weird, I get it, but it is what it is."
"Can't you just drink from animals?"
"We've tried, but do you know what animals sweat? Dangerous ones, that's what. Horses can easily knock us out with a single kick. Apes and gorillas literally match our strength and can easily tear us apart. Don't even get me *started* on hippos. You guys think *we're* dangerous? Ha! The average human, by comparison, is just so much safer."
A very awkward silence lingers.
"I have some handy wipes if you want to clean yourself after I'm done licking y-"
"Just- just get it over with." | I watched the woman running for her life down an alley and as the cliché goes she tripped. She crawled in a desperate attempt to get away tearing her clothes as she went. she looked in front of herself and saw the wall not far in front of herself. looking behind herself realizing she wasn't going to escape, she plead for her life "Please, please don't drink my blood PLEASE". Stopping for a moment the vampire grinned and spoke "Oh you silly goose that's a myth we don't drink blood, that's but a myth, a rumor that we started many many years ago".
The woman looked at him in fear and confusion and asked "Then what do you want from me?". The grin on the vampires face stretched into a smile before he continued "Its not what *I* want, no its what you owe". The confusion on the woman's face grew as her brows furrowed.
"But I've never met a vampire let alone owe one anything" she said in fear to the vampire that was now towering over her. Looking down at her he once again spoke only this time in a soft almost sing song voice "oooohhhh my dear Cindy\~, you don't owe *me* anything no, but you've been a very naughty girl\~" Cindy looking up at him stuttered softly "T-then why are you here"
The vampires eyes couldn't have shone more brightly than in that moment as he said "Why its my job of course and, it is tax season after all" Cindy had froze and was just staring. as I watched all this go down on the camera system that I recently installed out the back of my shop it dawned upon me. Vampires work for the fucking IRS. | 2022-11-10T13:52:50 | 2022-11-10T13:14:54 | 883 | 238 |
[WP] Humanity is the idiot savant of the galaxy. We're terrible at almost everything compared to every other race, but we surpass them in spades in one thing.
**DO NOT CHOOSE WARFARE**
It's a boring and overdone answer.
This is inspired by the book Year Zero, where humanity is laughably incompetent in most of our cultural endeavors, but there isn't a species alive no matter how old that is better than us at [X]. It's up to you what [X] is. Maybe we're the best cooks in the galaxy, maybe we're the best dancers, musicians, clowns, that's up to you!
**All I ask is that you do not pick warfare** | “Earth?” Hray filled his companion’s minds with an image of a beautiful blue orb that looked a lot like the home planet that their people had been forced to evacuate only a year ago.
“NO,” said Gon, so old that his scales had scales; so impatient with their endeavor to identify a new home world that Hray wondered why he bothered to be involved at all. There were plenty of entertainments and reminders of home on the other decks if that was what you wanted.
“Why not? Look, it’s perfect. We’ve got everything we need for a hundred-year siege if we have to. What the hell is wrong with it?” Hray tried to keep his voice level, but the glare he directed at Gon said everything his voice did not.
“What’s wrong with it?” Gon leaned forward, eyes locked on Hray’s. “Did ya bother to read the Dominant Life Form entry, or ya just glanced at the stats and looked at the pretty pictures?”
Hray broke eye contact, and Gon leaned back, smug.
“Yeah, so anybody who doesn’t know: Earth. Their tech is shit. They can do math, but they haven’t even figured out that Ultramath *exists* yet. …If they ever will.” His bold gestures conveyed his disdain for Earth’s DLF, or possibly just for *everything.*
“They don’t have natural exoskeletons. They don’t make ‘em synthetically, either—at least not for civilians. What I’m sayin’ is they’re easy to kill, sure.” He looked around, waiting for someone to ask “But then why…?” But no one rose to the bait.
“Nah,” he said. “What these guys got is: they reproduce like nothing you’ve seen before. Ya know how fast their DLF evolved? Try *millions* of years. That fuckin’ fast. These fuckers never evolved to edit their own genetic codes in response to the environment, so basically if an organism wants a do-over it’s gotta make a new copy. And they’re relying on *random mutations*, ya understand. So you can imagine… they gotta make a *lotta* copies.”
Again Gon paused and looked around the room. Hrey avoided his eye contact.
“Yeah, so,” Gon continued, “It’s not worth it. Earth DLF, Earth everything—whole planet’s crawling with life forms that are not gonna go away unless we kill the whole planet. Which defeats the whole purpose. Nice place, I’m sure. Not worth it.” He threw Hrey a look that said, *that’s life* and addressed him: “So… got anything else?”
Hrey shook his head and hid the list of planets he’d prepared. He hadn’t read the DLF files for any of them. | **To**: Grand Overlord Y'wso
**CC**: Research-DL
**Subject**: Re: Destruction of Planetary Body 294-00Z "Earth" - Comment Phase
You tasked me to see if there is any reason to keep 294-00Z functioning. Based on our research, we have come to our conclusion: The humans must be spared.
There are many other species out there that do almost everything the humans can. The Zlyaks can create mechanical marvels that transport our forces far and wide, much faster than anything the humans can create. The Myrians have integrated electronics into their bodies, allowing themseleves to serve as computers. And the Calys are some of the best cooks this side of the Glannac divide.
There is something the humans have, however, that we lack. Something that we can learn from. Something that they do better in their short existence than the Ancient Gqoes themselves could never master.
They have love.
They form bonds with each other that transcend everything. All of their motivations, hopes, aspirations, all of it is because they love. No other species does that. We live with others, work with others, but if someone leaves we replace them and think nothing of it.
I understand that the humans have hatred, too. Their wars have ended countless lives. But many of their wars were because they loved. When the Vybex colonies attacked the Pwo, we sat back and watched the war fizzle out. They had nothing to fight over once the land was destroyed. But as for the humans, when a small subset of their people were attacked because one man blamed them on all of his countries problems, many others jumped in to save them, disregarding their safety for the livelihood of a stranger. We sat back and watched, because you didn't want to damage your fleet of ships.
It is in my expert opinion that we keep the humans under surveillance, and try to learn from them. Maybe we could go further if we loved one another.
Thank you for your time. Glwon y'ttr epsnnium
Avoex D'ntrim
1st Officer
Research
- - -
**To**: Avoex D'ntrim
**CC**: Research-DL; Harvest_Team
**Subject**: Re: Destruction of Planetary Body 294-00Z "Earth" - Comment Phase
Y'wso doesn't care for love. Y'wso cares for metals.
Cmdr. Uont:
Destroy Earth, Bring back metal.
We name ship after Humans. Maybe.
\- Y'wso
| 2014-07-16T10:53:53 | 2014-07-16T10:37:28 | 215 | 48 |
[WP] Humanity has finally achieved FTL travel. They can now explore the universe and find other alien species, sapient or otherwise. To the consternation of Man, it turns out they’re all crabs. As a matter of fact, the interstellar community is quite disturbed we are not crabs. | Ambassador Heilo scuttled along the vacuum-safe passageway on unfamiliar legs. He had precious little time to acclimate to his new body, and time was in short supply nowadays. Carefully, he did a little, graceless hop to clear the uneven ridge that separated the two halves of the passage.
That simple hop had sent him further than any other Earth being had ever been. In the space of a second, he transitioned from the territory of Imperial Terra to the Dominion of Shells. He looked to his right, back the way he had come. A cleanly-chromed, hexagonal corridor stretched back to the heavy interlocking hull doors of the Heavy Cruiser Witchfire. To his left, a considerably larger passageway with gentle, ridged curves led down to the Dominion carrier, whose name translated to "The feeling of dipping your claws into the sand and finding that your lover has done the same thing, and now that your claws have touched you must fuck immediately."
Ambassador Heilo picked his way carefully along the ridges to the carrier's airlock, bouncing in the substantially reduced gravity. The airlock cycled open before he got there, and in the wash of light from the room beyond stood a rather impressively-bejeweled crab with a shell the size of a garden shed.
"Ah, ambassador!" Called the crab in the bubbly speech of a crab, "That form suits you so well! Much better than the heretical one you were using before."
Deep within Heilo's crab body, the human brain which was the only remnant of his old body thought only one word.
*Prick.* | (Note: this is based on the Door Monster sketch, FTL: use the doors. I will suggest watching that video on YouTube to get the references)
Report on CSV 2198
Background: On many occasions offensive to the confederation, including consuming lifeforms similar to our species, propaganda encouraging the above action, and an attempt at banning those lifeforms, a blockade was placed on humans. However, the humans have breached the blockade. It was decided that all humans who breached the blockade are subjected to tests on transference to better bodies. CSV 2198 was ordered to obtain the test subjects.
Process: CSV 2198 approached the human ship and attempted to immobilise the ship. A shell was fired and a fire started on the human ship. The fire was quickly put out. The crew then attempted to board the ship but was immediately thrown into space. A human was thrown out later. The crew and the human was rescued by CSV 2198. The humans than boarded CSV 2198, with an attempt to open the doors. After the humans was defeated, CSV 2198 left in fear of obtaining more damage.
Result: The humans captured in the encounter will be subjected to tests. The Council Researching Abnormal Beings have risen the danger level of humans to tier 5. The research will be conducted in secret until further notice. | 2021-08-05T07:10:14 | 2021-08-05T06:43:08 | 42 | 26 |
[WP] You're listening to Plot Relevant Radio, the only radio station that fits the situation of one randomly selected listener. We hope you're all safe tonight, as next up we're going to be playing The Final Countdown by Europe. | **Thursday 28th March 2019 11:30pm**
The Prime Minster opened the door of 10 Downing Street to be greeted by the cries of the reporters who had gathered outside. They were shouting questions she wasn’t ready to answer.
“Do you have a deal, Prime Minister?”
“Prime Minister, do you have a plan?”
“What’s going to happen at midnight, Prime Minister?”
She ignored them all. Shielded from the rain by a black umbrella she hurried to the waiting Jaguar.
“Is this the biggest disaster to befall peacetime Britain, Prime Minister?”
“Are you going to resign, Prime Minister?”
“Prime Minster...”
“Prime Minster…”
“Prime Minster…”
She breathed a sigh of relief as the car door was shut, silencing the cacophony of voices outside. Peace, for the six sweet minutes it took to drive to Buckingham palace at least. Thomas, her driver nodded his head “Mam.”
“Could we have the radio please, Thomas?” She needed a distraction. Thomas turned to her favourite station before pulling away towards Parliament Street.
*“We're leaving together,*
*But still it's farewell…”*
The Final Countdown. Europe. Some distraction from her problems the radio turned out to be. All she wanted was a six minute break from thinking about Europe but it seemed that the universe had other plans.
*“We're leaving ground (leaving ground)*
*Will things ever be the same again?”*
She saw Thomas’ eyes flick towards her in the rear-view mirror. She thought about asking him to turn the radio off but decided not to. The song was in her head now; the damage was done. She might as well listen.
*“It's the final countdown”*
She watched the rain drip down the car window as they drove past St James Park. This would surely be the worst meeting of her career. Explaining to the Queen how she had utterly and completely failed. She was done as Prime Minister, of course, and with that there would at least be some sense of catharsis. The rest of it though, the chaos that would be brought about by her failure? The sting of that would last a lifetime.
*“The final countdown.”*
Longer than a lifetime, really. She would forever be remembered as the Prime Minster who led Britain to the brink of collapse. She could feel history’s eyes on her and they were not kind.
*“It's the final countdown”*
No deal. No plan. No stopping it.
*“The final countdown.”*
The car pulled up outside the palace and The Prime Minister took a deep breath before opening the door and stepping out to the cries of the press.
“Do you have a deal, Prime Minister?”
“Prime Minister, do you have a plan?”
“What’s going to happen at midnight, Prime Minister?”
“Is this the biggest disaster to befall peacetime Britain, Prime Minister?”
“Are you going to resign, Prime Minister?”
“Prime Minister…”
“Prime Minster…”
“Prime Minister…” | "I don't and I don't and I don't."
The meandering voice encircled him, crescendoing.
He was getting closer now. The shimmering blue lights were frantic around him.
The aimless wandering of the voice gave way to an unfamiliar rumble, just as he came to a large open chamber. It was a hazmat analysis node.
Synthetic music reverberated.
*Sounds like the shit Diogo was listening to.*
Here was what he'd come for.
An explosion rocked the station. *Or was it the music?*
"Julie," he said. "Hey. Julie. Wake up. I need you to wake up now."
Driving drums pounded in his ears.
"We're leaving together, but still it's farewell," he said. Eros seemed to be singing his words back to him.
“Who are you?” Julie asked.
“Name’s Miller.”
“I’m scared.”
“It’s all right, but right now the whole station is heading back for Earth. Really fast.”
“I dreamed I was racing. I was going home.”
“Yeah, we need to stop that.”
“Can we come back?”
“Maybe we’ll come back to Earth, but who can tell?”
“I guess there is no one to blame.”
*Well, that wasn’t technically true.*
Miller shrugged reassuringly. “Not anymore, no.”
He could now feel himself floating, leaving ground.
“Will things ever be the same, Miller?”
He changed topics quickly.
“Give me your hand.” He took his hand terminal and pressed her thumb to the dead man's switch.
“What is it?”
“It’s the final countdown.”
The synthesizers were blasting again.
“Oh,” was all she could muster.
“We’re heading for Venus,” Miller suggested.
“That’s not what it wants.”
“You’re a fighter, Julie.”
“And still we stand tall, tall, tall…” the voices were overlapping again. Her eyes glossed over.
“Seen us seen us seen us, maybe they’ve seen us?” Julie’s tone was getting frantic.
*All eyes are on us.* Miller chuckled.
“Venus will welcome us all.” He pointed around the station at the floating blue lights.
“What happens on Venus?”
“We die maybe? I don’t know. With so many light years to go…” he trailed off.
Julie finished his sentence. “And things to be found.”
Miller nodded. “To be found.”
“I’m scared. I want go home, to Earth.”
“I’m sure that we’ll all miss her so.” *The rest of humanity will be glad we missed.*
The flashing blue lights seemed to speed up, furious now.
Julie’s lip quivered, she looked pained.
Miller felt the station lurch - their course was changing.
“What is it, Julie?”
“It’s the final countdown.” | 2018-08-21T02:33:03 | 2018-08-20T20:10:11 | 86 | 43 |
[WP] The last time the aliens invaded our planet they fled after losing the war. They have reluctantly returned to wage war and are relieved to see that dinosaurs no longer inhabit Earth, but have been replaced by the smaller and less intimidating humans. | Sacremento, California
Governor Brown stared at the TV. CNN was broadcasting pictures of alien troops marching through Washington, D.C. President Betsy DeVos had officially surrendered on behalf of the United States, but her tone and expression had been those of a woman whose spirit had been broken - presumably after witnessing the successive executions of every single Cabinet member turned President before her who had refused to do so.
"From what we've been able to gather, Mr. Governor," General David Baldwin, commander of the California National Guard, continued, "all of our forces have been completely unable to damage the enemy. Their technology disrupts not only electronics, but also explosives."
The Governor sighed. "I take it the rest of the world is facing similar troubles?"
"Mostly, sir. It appears the aliens are vulnerable to particularly dangerous wildlife. They aliens have struggled in many jungle areas. The Thais were able to recapture Bangkok using elephants. And the attack on Australia was a complete failure."
Brown raised an eyebrow. "So, what, we open the cages at every zoo?"
"I doubt that would be enough. According to the Australian interrogation reports, the aliens were driven off last time by the dinosaurs, but we don't have any dinosaurs."
"Actually, that's not true," cut in General Frank Emmanuel of the California State Military Reserve. "Birds are technically dinosaurs."
Baldwin cocked an eyebrow. "Really?"
Brown nodded. "It's true. But it's not as if we can get all the birds to attack the aliens..."
He trailed off at Emmanuel's expression. "Wait, you're not serious..."
"Mr. Governor," Emmanuel took a deep breath, "it's time you were briefed on the Hitchcock Contingency." | ((super rough, needs the whole thing changed, wrote it just to get the story down))
At the start, it seemed so easy.
Takin' over planets, quite a breeze...
We took a chance, found ourselves lacking...
We tech'd up, and got a consultant's backing...
But hang on a minute, those glowing lights,
shining across the planet where it is night...
Could it be?
I think the dinosaurs are dead, ladies and gents!
Those dilophosaurs got themselves bent!
T-Rex got wrecked, Triceratop's not on top, and Pterosaurs give me no terror no more!
It's the brightest future we hoped for!
But wait hang on, maybe they're worse, omnivorous primates could put us in a hearse...
Give us this chance, be as soft as you look, let us claim what you took.
Send the drone down. "We come in peace" we lie.
They begin to frown. I think we are going to die...
They've got atomic weapons, and giant robots, monstrous flowers!
Caped enpowered stand up, they power up, what do you mean our leaking engine fuel gives them power?
We're on the run again!
We feel fear again!
But mark my words, peoples of Earth, you'll rue this day!
For one day soon, when you're all dead, the remaining life will pay!
It vould be. | 2017-03-04T03:30:10 | 2017-03-04T02:02:48 | 37 | 15 |
[WP] You find yourself in your crashed plane, shaken awake by a woman practically dragging you out of the cockpit. She notices that you’re awake and says, “Welcome to the Island. I’m Amelia Earhart, let’s move. They probably saw your plane go down.” | Truth is, I didn't expect to survive the crash.
I was low on fuel, cruising to a fill-up station on a nearby asteroid belt, the last fuel-stop before you're on the long, cold flight to Andromeda. I'm a scrap-peddler, so I was trying to get by on about a balloon's worth of combusted oxygen, just to survive until my next sale. I was making the most out of what I've got, which is exactly jackshit.
Like plenty of fuck-offs who washed out of the Federation, I thought I'd make a home on the new frontier.
What a fucking idiot I was.
When the planet's gravity hooked me, I burned up every last bit of fuel I had, trying to shake myself free. Better to free-float than free-fall. At least if I got out of the gravity-tug, I could put out the air filters to hope for enough recycled atoms to wheeze my way forward.
It was like a slow bridge collapse. It starts slowly, then all at once. When gravity gets you, the only way is down.
The atmosphere swallowed me in, hungrily, and my little space-junker plummeted towards a foreign soil. All yellow earth and sparse gray plants and oozy rivers. The ship's warning systems screamed and I screamed and then the ship hit the ground.
I remember that. The ground rushing up to meet me. The air bag flying out. That wall of white was the last thing I saw.
Until, well... this.
The spaceship's fucked. I think I might be a bit fucked, too. My left wrist pulses as I hang upside down in the cabin, locked into the seat by my chest harness. My chest feels like a giant picked me up by my torso and slammed me back down.
But I'm alive. Light pours in through the broken windshield, and all I see is white, filtered through glass teeth.
Then a shadow passes over the glass and there's a woman's face. She's hunkering down to stare in at me, her face inquisitive, even upside down.
"Hi there," she says. "How are you holding up?"
"Been better." My mouth tastes coppery, and I spit blood.
"I know that feeling. You think you can cut yourself down from there?"
I squint and fumble with the belt. I feel drunk. Half-asleep, maybe. Concussion. It's a familiar cotton haze. Got my first good brain-shake in training for the Federation frontlines (spaceship simulator crashed, ironically), before I went AWOL and started selling metal to get by.
"Jammed, I think," I mumble.
The woman crawls inside, and only now do I get a good look at her. She's armed and wears a stained and torn aviator's jacket. There's a rifle slung across her back. She yanks a knife from her belt.
"Hold onto something," she says, smiling wryly, "or you'll hurt both of us when you fall."
I brace myself as she reaches up and saws through my chest harness, her other hand supporting my shoulder, as if just her touch will keep me from falling. With her help, I slip down, awkwardly, rolling onto my shoulder as I try to get my feet under me.
"I didn't know there were any human colonies on this planet," I murmur.
"There's not." Her face pinches with something like pity. "What's your name?"
"Sparrow Hunt," I tell her. It's a name I made up myself, which I hoped sounded sort of space-piratery. Like I could be the space Anne Bonny. Now it feels silly, saying it out loud.
"I'm Amelia." She nods back over her shoulder. "We need to hurry. We're going to have company soon. And they're not as friendly as me."
Amelia crawls backwards, back the way she came.
I freeze and peer out through the gaping windshield. The world outside is a lush jungle, almost Earthlike, except everything feels too huge. The trees tower like skyscrapers, and the air is damp and thirsty.
"Where are we?" I say.
"The Island." Amelia grips my elbow and helps me stand. "Everyone ends up on one, when they die. This one's ours."
"Die?" I repeat, incredulous. Now I'm certain I'm concussed.
"Trust me," Amelia says, watching the trees. Her eyes gleam like a deer's, searching for a lion it knows is there, just waiting to pounce. "Death is the least of your worries."
The branches twitch.
I snap my focus toward the wood to see something moving. It moves like a human-sized spider, leaping from branch to branch, but it's not quite living. I'm not even sure what it is. It's a patch of empty space that looks like static from an old TV.
And it's rushing right toward us.
"Shit," Amelia says. "Here they come."
"*Who?*" I say.
"The Sweepers. They don't like visitors." She's already side-stepping toward a patch of nearby brush. "They're here to clean up the mess."
The look in her eyes told me everything I needed to understand.
We are the mess.
"Sparrow," Amelia says. "You'd better run, girl."
°°°
Working on the next part :D Thanks for reading! | I'm too dazed to ponder the enormity of what I've just seen. Amelia helps me up and immediately starts toward a copse of palm trees. The south Pacific suns rays blindingly cut through the cloudless sky. I had barely adjusted my eyes to the brightness when we disappeared into the jungle where the ground was dappled by the shade of the trees.
I can't remember how long we walked but we arrived at a lovely waterfall with a pool at it's foot, crystal clear water inviting me to drink. "Welcome to my humble abode", announced Amelia and she gestured to a giant baobab-like tree. I immediately noticed the fuselage of a plane cradled within its giant limbs. My eyes darted back to my guide and reality hit me, at least what truly felt like reality at the time.
The woman met my gaze with confident blue eyes. They were the first thing I noticed next to her unruly mop of auburn hair and the wry smile. Her clothes were just as I imagined aviators wore in the 30's. "How long have you been here?" I asked
"It's been probably about 6 months." she remarked, "Have they stopped looking for me?"
"I'm afraid so", I hesitated, "For me, the year is 2021. How the he-"
Amelia jumped in, "Oh. That explains your fancy getup."
"Wait, so you're not surprised by the series of events happening right now?" I demanded, slightly annoyed at her choice of conversation topics.
She took a slight breath, "Well no, not really. I mean, I can't explain what's happening, no one here can."
Now I interrupted her, "You mean there's more people here?"
Amelia raised her hand and continued "When I came here, 6 months ago or so, I met with a Portuguese sailor named Diogo da Silva. My Portuguese is pretty basic, but he got around to telling me he washed ashore here sometime in mid-1522."
"I must be dreaming" I murmured to myself.
"I don't think you are," she replied looking at my torso. "You're bleeding."
Amelia helped patch up a gash I had over my lower ribs with a scrap of cotton she had. I thanked her and recalled back to my awakening at the beach.
"Back there, on the beach, who did you mean by 'they'?" I asked.
"Crabs. Giant coconut crabs." she said matter of factly.
"I see...", the only response I could muster. But she elaborated.
"Yeah, it sounds funny at first blush. I'd always heard about these things being big, like around 3 feet wide. Not these. I don't know what they fed on, but the babies are the size of a small automotive. The oldest ones I've seen almost reach the top of this tree that we're under.
They're fast, and hungry; almost insatiably so. And yes, I know for a fact they could eat either of us, I've seen human bones scattered near their holes. Come nightfall, we need to shelter in my plane, over the ground."
"What happened to Diogo?"
"He saved my life." she said, plainspoken as ever. I didn't press for details.
The sound of a branch snapping in the distance made Amelia stir to action. "Crabs. Quick, we need to get up the tree right now."
The trees rustled as a mass disturbed them, the sound of more branches snapping under its weight and intrusion. Its hideous eyes came into view, two crimson stalks skirting the treeline. I thought I heard a gurgle as the giant decapod traveled through, thankfully oblivious to our presence, and I realized the sound came from a mass of bubbles hanging where its jaws are. I was frozen in amazement and sheer horror witnessing a pair of enormous claws the size of excavators clearing ground ahead of the looming body like a ghastly procession. The body itself was like an armored vehicle, speckled in that crimson that suggested the red earth of the island and of coagulated blood.
Amelia looked at me and in urgent hushed tones "Keep your head down."
A flash of light appeared, and a hot wave of pressure pushed us back against the other side of the fuselage. My ears were ringing as I realized the creature had been injured, one of it's crane-like legs lay on the ground. The staccato sound of automatic weapons fire was something I could make out as I saw a squad of soldiers fan out from a cloud of dust and start unloading on the behemoth crab. Were they whooping in excitement?
"Amelia, who are these cowboys?"
"I've never seen them. But look" she stared at the crab as it wheeled around to address the insult, "We need to get moving again, this fight isn't over by a longshot."
....... | 2021-05-03T23:49:00 | 2021-05-03T22:29:59 | 213 | 38 |
[WP] Compared to the rest of the galaxy humanity is by far the friendliest. To many star systems they are considered "the good neighbor," and are known for their helpfulness. One day an oblivious system declares war on humanity, only to find half of the galaxy responding to humanity's plea for aid.
EDIT: Tfw this prompt gets 100+ upvotes and still no story
EDIT: Nice, we got a story.
EDIT: Wow we got a lot of stories! Thanks to all who contributed to this thread.
| The Humans are a strange species.
They found my people in ancient times, when the wheel and fire were still cutting edge technology. They built an station in orbit around our world, as was their way, and observed our development. They did not interfere with our development too much. When our home was threatened by an asteroid strike in ancient times, they destroyed it. When a supervolcano erupted and cast our world into volcanic winter, they descended from on high and cleaned our atmosphere.
We praised them as Gods for a time... Gods that came when we were in true need and helped us escape extinction. That was the only time they approached us directly. Their great ships landed where we preached of their glory... and they set us right. They told us that they were not gods... but were flesh and blood like us. They had learned how the world worked... and through doing so they had learned to control the world. Through their hard work and study... they had elevated themselves to the point where they worked *miracles* through their technology. They told us not to worship them... but instead to follow in their footsteps.
Our people... became very eager to join the Humans among the Stars. We wanted to be like them... powerful enough to bend the world towards our interests. As we grew more advanced... the Humans seemed to grow more distant. Disasters came without the Humans coming to fix them. We were confused by this, we were worried by this, and we were angry... until we figured out why the Humans did not intervene. It was because we were *able* to fix more of our problems ourselves. We came to understand, without being told, that the Humans did not want to rob us of the challenges that let us grow. Necessity is the mother of invention, and they did not want to take away the stress that we could deal with.
We went through the growing pains of a Sentient Species. Agriculture, Industrialization, Hate, Power-Hunger, and more... until the most dangerous came upon us. We discovered the Power of the Atom. The Humans did not intervene when first we used the weapons that were born of the Atom. Atomic Hellfire wiped a city out, and a war was ended. Nuclear Peace began... one as uneasy as the Nuclear Peace of human history. But... that also drove us to The Stars. The Missiles we made to deliver death across the world were also the key to breaking free of Gravity's iron-grip.
Our first mission was, of course, to reach the Human Research Station. We had a few failures along the way... a few people died... but we made it in the end. We docked with the station... and we met the Humans in person once more. They were so happy to see us having succeeded in getting past the first hurdle. They encouraged us to keep exploring, to keep *learning*... and to be careful with the weapons we had built.
We were not.
It's been a long time since the Day of Armageddon. The day that tensions finally broke... and the decision was made to end the world. Missiles launched. Sirens flared. Mothers lied to their children, telling them that everything would be okay. Old friends got together for one last drink, before the end. Several children were made. But the end didn't come. The Humans did what they always did: They saved us from extinction when we couldn't save ourselves.
Great beams of light were sent out from the Research Satellites. They struck the missiles... and there were no missiles anymore when the beams ended. There wasn't even a blast. Then... they made a request to us. They took control of every signal. Every radio, every video screen... everything. They addressed our world, and they *asked us* to avoid going to war, even though the threat of Nuclear Annihilation had been lifted from our world by their intervention. They told us that, whatever our differences might be, they weren't great enough to justify destroying each-other.
We... did as we were asked. We did our best not to go to war. It worked... on the whole. Countries stopped fighting each-other... although internal wars still flared up from time to time. We continued to struggle forward... until we eventually managed to join the humans. We discovered the secrets behind the Warp-Drives that Humans relied upon... and they celebrated out triumph as we ascended to join the galactic community.
We learned that the Humans were not alone among the stars, and that we were not unique in how the Humans had treated us. There were dozens of species like ours, who the Humans had taken an interest in. They had protected them... and encouraged them. When they emerged from their home-worlds with FTL Capabilities... the humans had supported their growth. They'd helped us find worlds to colonize, and they'd sent Terraforming Ships out to create new garden worlds for us to inhabit.
They never asked for anything in return. To them... helping intelligent species, like ours, reach the stars was simply the right thing to do. They believed that all intelligent life was valuable... and that it should be allowed, if not outright encouraged, to flourish. They wanted to see their Local Cluster *filled* with Life... and they'd been working on that for a very long time.
The Grell eventually found the Humans. They were another of the Elder Species, as old as the humans were, but they were not as Ancient as the Remnants. They had come to the stars seeking to spread their Empire, to unite all life beneath their banner... and to make all a part of their "superior" culture.
When they looked upon our Local Cluster... they thought they saw an easy conquest. They saw *dozens* of weak species and nations that could be easily conquered... and the only species of real relevance, the Humans, were pacifistic scientists that hadn't been at war for a very long time. They ignored us, and attacked the Humans first... seeking to destroy the only thing that remotely resembled a threat. They expected that we would not come to the Humans' aid... and they were wrong.
The Humans were not always as peaceful as they were when we were uplifted to the stars. They had been Warriors once, and they had *always* been scientists. Their Ships of War awakened from long hibernation... with our people at their helms. While the Humans had forgotten war... we had all experienced it. It took us awhile to figure out how to do it in space... but we figured it out, and we taught the Humans what they had forgotten.
The Humans turned their Economy away from terraforming and the spreading of Life... and towards the creation of a larger armada. We held the line together... defending the Local Cluster until the Armada was ready. Then... we pushed the Grell back.
We destroyed their ships, and we stranded their people on dozens of planets. We freed those that they had conquered, but few of them were strong enough to join us. We destroyed their infrastructure to stop them from returning to the Stars... and set them back to their stone-age in the process. But... we did not drive them to extinction. Instead... we built space-stations around their worlds and we watched over them, hoping to guide them back to The Stars again once they had learned the Lesson of War.
We returned to peace and exploration... and the Humans returned to spreading life and guiding new intelligence to The Stars. | *Going to try a 40k spin... [for those unaware, this is an existing universe for the tabletop game Warhammer 40,000] if anyone unfamiliar wants an explanation about how that setting affects the story, do just ask and I will try to give an effective one...*
----
For millennia the human inhabitants of Hertius Prime had lived a peaceful and industrious existence. Lying in the eastern most fringe of the Milky Way galaxy they had served as engineers for any and all ships that found themselves stranded in their distant quadrant. Cut off from Earth and the Solar system some 20,000 years ago, they had survived thanks to their willingness to trade and deal with the many different aliens that called the small system their home. Burgeoning empires had come and gone through the area, with the most recent having been a very diplomatic and technologically advanced civilisation. These blue skinned aliens had found the inhabitants of Hertius Prime fascinating, continually referring to them as "an anomaly of their race".
At first the Hertians had quizzed their visitors about what this meant, wondering if any other humans had survived the first great journeys into the void all those years before, but soon gave up as the enigmatic emissaries of the "Tau" offered no response or explanation. Soon, lucrative trade deals between the Hertians and a myriad of different races began, lasting for centuries as the humans saw their planet begin to evolve into a centre of technological wonder and progress. The ancient tribal religions that had served them for so long began to be replaced by a reliance on technology and artificial intelligence. Within 1000 years the Hertians had established themselves as the premier engineers in the sector, repairing Tau, Rathraxi, Badonna and Kroot ships. They had received offers of military alliance from the Tau in the past, but had never seen the need for it given their peaceful co-existence with the various inhabitants of their little corner of the galaxy, instead they avoided Tau attempts to peacefully integrate the planet into the ever expanding Tau empire.
Then, one year, a small, probe like sphere entered the orbit of Hertius Prime and found itself pulled down to the ground by the planet's gravity. Daubed in a deep, almost rust coloured, red paint, the technology was bizarre, yet strangely intuitive to the engineers sent to investigate it. Crude designs and unnecessary metalwork were etched across the sphere, at least they were crude to the advanced Hertians and their formidable engineers. As the sphere was dissected and repaired, the Hertians discovered a signal emitter inside, that was beaming out well into the darkness of space, far beyond the reach of the Hertians and even that of the enormous Tau empire. In the end the sphere found its way into a small collectors museum of oddities amongst the Hertian nobility where it would remain, apparently dormant, for another 100 years.
"We're picking up 8 enormous signatures on the edge of the Hertius Prime's third moon sir" barked the ensign in charge of monitoring the scanners used to detect ships in trouble and in need of repair. "They appear to just have appeared out of nowhere as if from another reality" he continued. Major Braxon raised an eyebrow quizzically and walked over to the young man's side, "is it the Tau? They sometimes appear to skip across space in seemingly impossible leaps?" He asked, tucking a strand of his brown hair behind his left ear as he poured over the readings on the monitor in front of them. "It doesn't match our readings of any previously encounters Tau vessel" replied the ensign, his finger tracking a 9th, smaller reading that had detached itself from the lead vessel. "Orders sir?". "Send the reading to the sept of engineers to see if it matches anything on their database and prepare a welcoming party to be dispatched to the landing zone, which I want you to light up in an obvious manner for our visitors. Oh and ensign?", "yes sir?", "send a 'reactionary' code to the automated defence turrets, let the AI decide if these visitors might be less friendly than our other neighbours." With a nod, Ensign Paton turned back to the display.
Of the few emotions Magos Urkhart had left available to him through his many upgrades, curiosity and anticipation were his favourites. Rumours of an Adeptus Mechanicus probe having landed on a planet showing signs of STC technology were enough to inspire any Magos, and if he were able to bring back a complete one instead of a fragment he would rocket through the ranks of his Martian order. The landing shuttle rattled as it entered the atmosphere of Gamma-2107 and he processed a silent prayer to the Omnissiah that the accursed Xenos wouldn't have corrupted the world or its potential technological bounty. The shuttle shook a final time as the servitor guided it into the landing strip that had been illuminated since they detached from the explorator ship "Welded Gauntlet" an hour ago. With a quick check of his translation engines, Urkhart stepped out, down the ramp and into the sunlight beyond.
Major Braxon suppressed a grimace as the metallic imitation of a human stepped down the ramp towards him, metallic tentacles seemed to take the place of a mouth and augmented limbs and iron tools filled the red cloak of the figure now approaching him. Yet, despite all this, there was still something oddly human about the figure. "Welcome to Hertius Prime" he said jovially, stepping towards the red draped figure before him, "We detected your sudden entrance to our system and would like to offer you aid should you need it in order to pass through safely".
If Magos Urkhart could still feel surprise, he would have done so then, instead, his logic drives rapidly worked through the possible explanations for what now stood before him. "It is human, this far out from Sol, with a pre gothic language of sorts that is only hinted at in our earliest records" he processed to himself. "To have survived so far on the eastern fringe without the Imperium's light, amongst insidious Xenos, is remarkable indeed. I calculate a 0.0003457% probability of such a survival being possible without an STC presence at the heart of their culture".
Braxon frowned, the figure before him standing their in bear silence, the only noise being the clicking and whirring of a two toned click emanating from the metallic humanoid in front of him. "Eh hem, we welcome you to our capital of Carandius" he repeated with a slight cough, eyeing the craft the figure had emerged from. Something from his days in the academy sparked in the back of his mind, but he couldn't quite place a finger on it.
Then, with more binary clicking, the robed figure turned and disappeared into the landing craft...
**Part 2 as a reply, I'm doing this on my phone so I can't keep an eye on character count. I also don't tend to proofread stuff that I write on my phone, so I apologise for all the errors and typos.** | 2017-03-26T08:23:17 | 2017-03-26T07:23:46 | 497 | 43 |
[WP] One day, every person spontaneously gains a superpower based on their job. Psychologists gain telepathy, Firefighters can waterbend or firebend, Pilots can fly. Your job, previously looked down upon, yields the strongest power of them all. | Centennial square blazed with a web of power. Ropes of fire too bright to look at whipped from the welders, while botanists and carpenters forced the decorative trees into tortured shields. The waiters, dressed in black, walked with perfect grace along scaffolding, sharpened silverware glinting from their hands. Strange structures of glass and steel bloomed from the architects and engineers, and the doctors stood by, hands glowing with healing light. Zookeepers shifted form. Taxi drivers blinked in and out of existence, bringing baristas and teachers and artists and housekeepers and scientists from all over the city. It was an army of ordinary people, brought together by grief and fury, standing against one man.
I used to be a data analyst, and I knew we would not be enough.
There were some variations in the abilities granted by the Event, and there were some jobs so unusual that even their common abilities became rare. John Patron had an unusual job, which had become a unique ability.
John Patron killed people for money. And now he could not die.
The knowledge powers had gathered together around the edges of the square, psychologists linking us into a hive mind all calculating a way to do the impossible. I let myself be swept away into the numbers, holding a little more of myself back from the collective than most of my colleagues. I wouldn’t be able to do this for long, but I had to be here, and when Patrons pushed his way into the square, I saw him through thousands of eyes.
He was calm, pushing his way through veils of fire, holding a sobbing woman by her throat. She burned. He did not. The firefighters lowered their shields, and Patron made his way to the center unharmed.
He looked at all of us, and said, very calmly, “Leave now, or die.”
We howled, and the crowd rushed forward.
“Wait!” I tried to cry, but the bond to the group snapped and I was flooded with numbers, and I was losing myself in them, and I couldn’t find which eyes were mine—
“Easy, son, you’re ok, you’re all right.” I was on the ground, and there was blood in my mouth. A burly man in jeans and a flannel shirt held me half out of a nearby puddle.
“They’ve got to stop, the woman, she— oh. Oh, no.”
An electrician had been aiming for Patron. He hit her, too. At least it must have been quick. But pilots plummeted from the air, and trees fell, and shields flickered and died.
The woman had been an anesthesiologist.
“Son, I’m a little in the dark here. Someone grabbed me at the grocery store and then I was here. *What* exactly is happening?”
“I’m sorry. It was only supposed to be volunteers.” My breath husked in my throat. “He’s killed a lot of people,” I whispered. “A lot of powers that could’ve changed the world. Anyone who could’ve stood a chance against him. It’s just us left to stop him, and we *can’t*.”
The man’s shoulders were tense, blocky shape silhouetted against the sun.
“He hurt you?”
Patron was standing alone surrounded by a sea of bodies. The people at the edges were still lashing out at him, but he ignored them, kneeling to methodically slit throats in a grotesque parody of my rescuer.
I coughed up blood. “I hurt myself. I was only a temp. I’m not strong enough to be here. But my sister… my sister was an astronaut.” I laughed. “She would’ve changed the world.”
The big man sighed. “I never wanted to hurt anyone.” He stood suddenly, and gently lowered my head onto the asphalt. “Son. This is important. Do you want him gone?”
“More than anything,” I said fervently.
“That’s all I needed,” the big man said.
Patron paused at his gristly work, and stood up suddenly. He flickered, and the knife fell from between his hands. He snarled, and lashed out at an attacker that wasn’t there, flickered again. And then he was gone.
The big man sniffed, then wiped his eyes. “Never thought I’d be a killer,” he said hoarsely.
“Thank you. Oh, god, thank you. You can’t imagine…” I thought of my sister, light shining from between her curls, and a smile twice as bright. “How?!”
He gave me a weak, watery smile, and offered me a hand. I let him pull me to my feet, and then spontaneously gave him a hug. Startled, he stiffened for a second, then hugged me back. Gruffly, he told me, “I’m a garbage collector.”
The unconscious people started to stir, and for the first time, I looked at the future again and saw peace. | A mother and a doll maker. You see children that is who changed the world.
You see it all began on a bright summers evening, our heroes beginning their days at work; now, nobody expected a parent of all to have any true power- you see, they’re often overlooked. The mothers, unbenounced to them, having thought their jobs status quo.
A parent having powers. What a scoff-able remark. Like a person breathing suddenly gaining the power to control the wind- that was left to the weatherman.
Lame, ordinary, parenthood. Another day for Sofia, her grandpa sitting on the couch forging another doll; his quivering yet quiet lip reminding her of his soft spoken words- “another day, another dollar, another death”- before age and inadequacies kicked in, leaving him shelled, broken, lonely.
The doll maker remarkable in no way and shunned as a hobbyist continued to breath life into his every work. One of the few proud things in his pathetic life that spurred joy to a frail old man.
Sophia had something new today; or someone new. A child, since planned not of birth but paperwork, would be arriving shortly, accompanied by a caseworker and a small bag of and-stuffs. These materials would be the most basic needs, haphazardly chucked into a pile nobody cared about, forgoing any personality to the young one. Probably with a white tie now stained grey with age.
Sofia prepared a supper for such a young one, a basic meal, hopefully to the child’s liking- a picky, quiet eater the caseworker had said with a drone. Of course, their group home cared not for trying new recipes as twenty plus kids needed to be fed, along with rangling the runners and tangoing with the cutters; a poor girl with food issues far down the line of problems for an understaffed home.
The child had arrived at the doorstep with a ding, the caseworker- with the ability to coax out the truth (especially unpleasant for unsatisfied parents)- attempting a forced smile, pleasantries exchanged and then parted ways; Sofia watched the haphazard steps of a cautious child stepping into the home, the grandpa still on the coach.
Words weren’t exchanged yet all was needed to be said: “this was your home, you live here now no matter the circumstance, and no matter the fuss. You will be loved no matter what, and you’re forever welcomed.”
But messages are fickled when it comes to children; the child saw into her eyes just another household: “this is a house, you will stay to be seen not heard, and without a fuss. Love is limited, and stay is temporary.
The child headed to their room.
———
The toymaker and the child sat in a room, the wind outside fussing with the pounding of rain about. The child saw the TV click and flicker, yet the words meaningless inside their head; nothing of it matters when your stuck, away from home.
*Home is where the heart is, but my heart is in pieces; dear heavenly father, today is the day where we gave a great piece of humanity to Him- I have an angel watching over me, and I call her Mommy*
Words; what a funny thing. Consulting the child resulted in a head tilted back, their laugh a jingle, but what about genuinty?
The dollmaker, seeing such a child with no words and no voice, brought life to a doll.
*Just for you; where’s my toys- they never let you bring anything; she took it she took it she took it pain pain pain*
The wooden doll, handmade was in the little girls lap; she clung to its cheeks and made squealing sounds, binding into herself. Words weren’t exchanged, but feelings were. The old man was still and she was and all was good and nothing bad happened that day.
———
Sophia was alone with the child, sitting by her side. The child drew pictures and she was good; an artist, a creator, colors that splashed and split the page with riveting edges and lines. It was her interest, and it made her happy, and that was all that mattered.
She spun stories of a doll coming to life with her works, a little friend- and perhaps it was true. Sophia had no doubt in a world of heroes, could a doll come to life.
And in one touch, a hand placed on her shoulder with permission, the parent understood. A fluttering of feelings of emptiness and loneliness and *nobody cared and nobody cared and nobody cared*, but Sophia did. Grandpa did.
And that was all that mattered.
Because they changed the world; my world. | 2021-05-09T20:59:11 | 2021-05-09T20:42:18 | 118 | 20 |
[WP] Every person can only say 100 words in their lifetime. After which they will die. Write all of the dialogue for one persons life.
You would die of natural causes anyway so it wouldn't benefit to never say anything. All common language and information is taught by recordings. Directly after your 100th, you will die.
Bonus points for writing the dialogue for a pair of soul mates. | Mama Dada
School Good Learn
Fun Toy
Happy
Who are you?
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Help | Mum. Dad. No. No. No. No. Mine. Mine. Mine! When I grow up. Please. Thank you. Totally cool. Like. Like. Like. Um. Um. Just one drag. Everybody hates me. I love you. I hate you Dad. Just the tip. Awesome. I will never love again. My major is. Party! I have to study. Really me too. I love you. I have people skills. Will you marry me? Did you take the test twice? This is the happiest day of my life. No. No. No. Put that down. Be back at 11. Get off my lawn. Mine! I love you. Goodbye. | 2015-03-09T18:14:27 | 2015-03-09T18:01:00 | 195 | 34 |
[WP] You're the world's best photographer. Your secret? You can freeze time. You last photo brings some suspicion up. | "'Perfect-timing Bill', that's what they call me. And I seem indeed to have an uncanny ability to get the perfect shots at the perfect moment - my "jumping people" pictures are always great, I catch the funniest superpositions, my wildlife pictures are gaped at, I have a stockpile of pictures of things that fall, break or explode.
To the people who ask me how I do it, I play the modesty card - "you know, it's a bit of luck, a fair amount of practice, and for every picture that you see, hundreds don't make the cut". I'm not lying. I do take a lot of pictures to get the right one. And I suppose it does take a bit of luck and experience to snap my fingers at exactly the right moment to freeze time.
I've been called a cheater, a fraudster, a bad photoshopper. The irony of that is not lost on me. I defeated all the claims, one by one. Some people are still not convinced, but then again, some people are still not convinced we went to the Moon.
The cover of "best photographer in the world" explains my luxury lifestyle. Obviously, my photography gear is everything money can buy and then some. My house has been sold to me as a 'manor', my garage contains three very shiny red sports cars. I still have a reputation as a philanthropist - it's only natural, after all, to give back to the populations and places that allowed me to take such great pictures.
It took me a surprisingly long time to understand that this gift could be used for other purposes. I can't say that I've never taken the opportunity to unzip the fly of an annoying customer or to lift a garment. Interacting with frozen people creeps me out, though, so I stopped doing that. It was probably more of an incentive to stop than the fear of getting caught.
Over the years, I improved my technique. I didn't want to get caught, so I went to great lengths to ensure that my freezing the time didn't get detected. The most obvious thing is to come back to the original pose when I am done. The second obvious thing is to never shoot from an impossible angle that the client would have noticed. That's why I like wildlife pictures: an eagle will not be suspiscious at the angle at which you caught its best side view. And if I'm not actually taking pictures, well, I can hide somewhere, or I can pretend to re-tie my shoe, or that sort of things, before I snap my fingers. Small thefts were not really possible: if I steal a handbag in the street, there's a fair chance it's going to be seen. Larger thefts are more profitable and easier, assuming they happen in a place where no-one is actually standing and wondering how the thing they were looking at disappeared in front of their eyes.
What I had never really taken into account, though, was that although human beings would probably not notice the minutiae of my position, the CCTV in front of my targets would. And that eventually someone would make the connection between the multiple occurrences of a guy shifting from a few centimeters in the vicinity of every bank and jewelry shop that had been mysteriously broken in this past decade.
And that's why colleagues caught me, Detective. I don't think I will ever forget the three knocks at my door at 6AM this morning, or the first sentence your constable said to me: 'William Stasis? You're under arrest for multiple counts of burglary and grand theft.' But then again... "
William grinned and snapped his fingers. | (caution: slight trigger warning, and mildly nsfw possibly)
Fuck. What the hell kind of name is Jeff, for a dog, anyway? What a huge fucking mess. I really don't think I'm going to be able to talk my way out of this one, am I? I looked at the clock. 1:15pm. Fuck. Rose would be here in 15 minutes.
The first email this morning from Rose had pretty much set the tone for the day. The subject line: "Wtf???"
Now. I'd known angry customers on a regular basis. Pet photography really brings out the worst in people. But reading Rose's email this morning, it had occurred to me that this was far beyond any normal kind of anger. She was irate. I had obviously fucked up big time. Royally, even, maybe.
My jaw had dropped as my eyes scanned her email. It read:
"Alex, first 3 photos of the set, and last 8, fantastic as per your usual standard. Jeff looks positively regal. Re: the 4th photo,... what the fuck? I don't know if this is photoshop, or where you got this, but is this supposed to be some kind of sick joke? You are a fucking creep. I will come by at 1:30 to discuss. If no satisfactory explanation, there will be a lawsuit."
So. Apparently. I had. Uh. Well, let's just put it this way. I'd never wanted to be a dog photographer. I'd started this whole thing as a ruse to give my lazy, unemployed ex-girlfriend something to do with her time and creativity, and boy did that backfire. I was a pretty shitty photographer, so, thank god for the undiscerning clientele. I had realized pretty early on that a large portion of dog owners were seriously attractive older women, usually married, with familes, but that was sort of my thing.
So I'd photograph the dogs, and, what with my bizarre ability to freeze time and all, I'd have a little fun. It started off with small, innocent little pranks. Time frozen, I'd pop a button on a lady's blouse here and see if she'd notice. Lonely fucker that I am, I soon realized I could cop a feel or two, and nobody would be the wiser. Morally, it was indefensible. Well. Cocky little me, that soon led to removing articles of clothing off the more attractive female customers, and taking photographs I really wasn't being paid to take.
Well. I'd always done a super job of photographing the little furballs, having my evil little fun, and erasing the memory cards. But I guess I missed a photo this time.
As I looked at the attachment labelled "Jeff-goldretriev-photoshoot-004", my stomach sank. Photogaph #4 was a full-body photo of Rose, at 3/4 angle, shirt wide open, bra off, jean zipper undone, smiling at Jeff next to her. Jeff, frozen in time, was looking at me with sad eyes.
Fuck.
Fuck my pride, and fuck Jeff. I held my head in my hands and waited for Rose to get here. What was I going to do? What was I going to say? | 2016-10-23T08:14:26 | 2016-10-23T06:31:33 | 1,343 | 102 |
[WP] You were born with an ability where if you’re about to die from anything unnatural, time stops and allows you to move to a position where you wouldn’t die. You’ve travelled over five miles by now, but time is still stopped. | You were pissed. Time had frozen just as you were about the tell the punchline to the greatest joke you could ever tell. Sighing, you begin looking around trying to figure out why you were about to die. Far as you could tell there was nothing obvious and when you were a second from death it's usually fairly obvious. You head outside, time still frozen, and check the skies only to find that it's a beautiful sunny day without a thing in the sky.
"Well... this is unusual" you muse to yourself in the parking lot as you head for your car. You figured it wouldn't work and are proven right so you grab your backpack and start walking. You'd never been frozen this long but had prepared for the possibility years ago, always keeping a backpack full of useful things with you. You pick a direction at random and start the hike.
You stuck to the main roads until you hit the edge of town, a solid five miles from where you started, and it began to really worry you. The thoughts flit through your mind, visions of a mushroom cloud behind you, an asteroid destroying earth leaving you frozen for eternity, some sort of alien invasion intent on glassing the planet and so you began to run to try and escape them.
Running for miles, until your legs hurt and your lungs burn, you come across something extremely strange. A well dressed man sitting at a table, a helicopter a few hundred feet further on and a chair pulled out on your side. You cautiously approach and sit down investigating the scene with your eyes. Nothing, in particular, strikes you as odd, at least not compared to the entire situation.
Weighing your options, you figure there's nothing wrong with sitting in the chair and walk towards the table. Experiencing a moment of pushback from the air at the five-foot mark time suddenly jumps back into motion.
"Wonderful! You found us. We apologize for arranging such a meeting, but it was necessary for us to get your attention. Please take a seat" he finishes, gesturing at the chair.
You jump in shock when he begins talking but you take the provided seat. A manilla folder sits on the desk, full of papers. The mysterious man opens the folder and begins to read from some pages.
"Killer Jim Baker found tied to street lamp outside city hall. Reports indicate he kept talking about a man that kept teleporting around the room as he tried to shoot him." he reads, before grabbing another paper "Reports of a man on Highway 23 running directly in front of vehicles before disappearing". Before he grabs another sheet of paper you hold your hands up.
"You can stop. I get it. You've somehow figured out I can't die." You wish he hadn't brought up the second one. It brought back some bad memories from a very dark time in your life. He pushes the papers back into the folder and stares at you.
"I'm here to offer you a job. We could use someone with your unique skill set. I'm with the Foundation." As he finishes his sentence, you know your life will never be the same again. | The pyramid had long since disappeared from sight. Even squinting in the direction of my footprints, I couldn’t see a single remarkable dot among the golden sands of the desert. Yet the world was still silent, my heart was still beating rapidly, and I still felt the chill of the underground tomb after I had spied the dusty sarcophagus and time suddenly froze.
I suppose it could be a good thing that when time froze, so did the physical state of my body. When I saw the Egyptian coffin earlier, I had been just slightly tired from sneaking past the guards, climbing down some stairs, and taking a leisurely walk down a long, narrow corridor. Even after leaving the pyramid and walking several miles hauling a bag of gold and priceless rubies, I was barely winded and unaffected by the desert sun. The only problem was, I had reached and gone past the excavation point a mile ago, and still, the world was still. Which meant whatever threatened my life this time was more than just collapsible floors and rigged arrows.
I was no stranger to threats on my life. When you’re a professional grave robber, you come to expect danger. But no danger lasted once I cleared the pyramid. All sorts of grave explanations for my predicament whirled through my head. Had this corner of Egypt been nuked? Was there an earthquake? Was I having a heart attack? The last one stuck in my mind. I didn’t fully know the extent of my ability. I was just born with it and kept it a secret. If time froze when I was in danger, what would happen if I had a heart attack? If I were to die a natural death, I could stop time forever. Disasters, I could escape. Even if the sun burned out, I could bunker up underground or build myself a spaceship. Somehow. But if my arteries just clogged, what would I do? Go to the hospital and hope they could save me? Learn medicine from scratch and operate on myself?
I shook my head to clear my thoughts. I would hope my ability only extended to unnatural deaths, and perhaps I’d be forced to investigate my body if I couldn’t find a solution elsewhere. Until then, I would just get out of this place. Maybe Egypt’s just being nuked. Wouldn’t that be a nice alternative.
I realized I’d stood in one place thinking for quite a while. I sighed. There was more walking to do. Turning around for one last look, this time I made out the pyramid in the far distance. The dot on the horizon was barely visible, and when I squinted, it almost looked like the dot was getting closer. I shook my head again. No, the dot was definitely getting bigger. And when I looked closely, I could just barely make out two red dots on the larger black dot which had a shimmering around it not due to the desert heat.
I dropped my treasure and ran. | 2019-12-20T16:09:53 | 2019-12-20T11:41:05 | 87 | 31 |
[WP] You are a world-class programmer who has died. God agrees to allow you in to Heaven on the condition that you work for him while he debugs the human body. Write the patch notes for the next version of humans. | God: "What the me is this?! How the hell am I supposed to find anything again!
The first ones are okay:
Patch: Wisdomteethremov1.4
Patch: Diabeetus1.8
Patch: Colonmrrt2.3
But these?!
Patch: TrgH&3.4
Patch: TrgH&3.5
Patch: TrgH&3.5.1
Patch: TrgH&3.5.1&Wisdomteethremov1.5
And so on. What the hell, man?"
"Ha! I never commented my code when I was alive. So I know exactly were I'll end up once we finish this. This way, you'll need me forever!" | Human v1.1
* Created basic cell membrane and stored in new GIT repository. Does nothing yet, but will provide a better basis to develop from than the old DNA sequence which jumps back and forth between coding sequences and is full of dead code. There was actually a *goto* command in there. Whatever crack-smoking monkey created this mess appears to have been writing DNA sequences randomly while trying to see whatever happened to work. Oh and of course nothing is documented. FMAL | 2015-08-25T07:52:02 | 2015-08-25T07:22:26 | 150 | 112 |
[WP]A retired super villain is in the bank with his 6 year old daughter when a new crew of super villains comes in to rob the place. | High school, college, Law school…that was the easy part of life. Well, maybe not law school, but it was easy to keep up the life and still have a lucrative front. Besides, I knew how to get my crew out of a pinch. Then came marriage, love…fatherhood. The hard parts of life. I’m only in my mid-thirties, but I am probably one of the youngest retirees you’ll ever meet.
My name is Sam, I am thirty four years old, I have been married for approximately ten years to a wonderful woman who I have been with for almost two decades, I have four kids, I graduated from the University of Kansas in 2019, and when I was 18 years old I became “awakened”. At least, that’s how Eric put it back in the day. Today, I get to spend the time that would regularly be the monotony of a normal life with one of my kids, my wonderful little girl Cindy.
“Daddy, when are we going?”
“Soon, sweetheart, Daddy has to cash his check.”
I look down at her and smile, rubbing her hair. She got my restlessness…Hopefully, she and the others aren’t all like daddy. I look around, pondering my existence. Life as a super-criminal was fun and exciting, exhilarating and vibrant…now I’m in the dull grey masses of the world. I guess that’s what comes with manning up and taking care of the kids. Oh well, at least I built up enough of a nest egg to provide for the family for the next five decades.
As I stand there, daughter tugging on my sleeve, and my mind wandering, a spray of gunfire connects with the ceiling, “Everybody on the ground! This is a robbery!” I covered my daughter with my body, letting the gunfire connect with the ceiling as I held her close, like the only thing that mattered. She is my flesh. She is my blood. I am her bulwark. No one will break me.
“Hush little baby don’t say a word…Daddy’s gonna buy you a mockingbird…” I pray in the back of my mind, my eyes fluttering across the gang. The new generation became more matte black, it seemed. Camo and pseudo-military had come in vogue in more recent times, it seemed. Automatic weapons, masks with a card motif, camouflaged pants, black leather jackboots, the works. I look down at my daughter and hold her closer, laying a kiss upon her forehead. I am her defender. No one can defeat me.
I look to another customer and give Cindy to him, for safekeeping. I rise, an old player to the stage. The man of two faces. The man of steel. That old, familiar phrase ringing out in the bank, “What the fuck are you doing you prick?! Sit the fuck back down and wait!” I frown and sigh, taking off my suit jacket and tie, “See, I would…but I find that boring.” I stretch, rolling my neck, my breathing intensifying, “I have spent the past six years as one of the boring, old, ordinary masses…When jumped up little shits like you think you can fuck around with the old school, it’s more than a little entertaining. I was in this game when you were just figuring out what fractions were. From the looks of you, I am a full sophomore in high school older than you a--”
"Pft, so what? Am I supposed to be impressed? Oh, so what, you’re an old fuck who ca--"
I take in one last breath as my skin glosses over in metal, my joints pop as they adjust to the weight, "Do you know who I am? I am Dirge…" I trail off for a moment looking over at Cindy, "No…I am Bulwark. And no one will break me…"
| “Daddy, I’m so bored!” The small child whined loudly, tugging on her tall father’s hand. This made the blond haired man smile down at the small child. Her innocent brown eyes stared up at him in a begging manner.
“Tell you what,” he grinned as he spoke, “once I get finished here I’ll take you to get ice cream, okay?”
“Okay Daddy!” Just the mention of the food seemed to make her extremely excited, bouncing up and down on her heels. “Can I have chocolate Daddy? Can I?”
“Of course sweetie. You can have whatever flavor you wa--”
“Everybody on the floor, this a robbery!” The booming voice emanated from a man holding a rifle under his arm. He was surrounded by two men and a woman, all dressed rather similarly. Their attire was dark, woefully so. Skulls and crossbones were patterned across their entire outfit. The most worrying thing, however, was the skull masks they held to their faces… They appeared to be made of a bleached ivory.
The blond haired man gently pushed his daughter to the floor, following suit before whispering: “Just stay still. Don’t draw attention to yourself.”
“But Daddy I..”
“I know pumpkin. Just be still and quiet.” He waited until the group had their backs turned before pulling himself to his feet. Rather nonchalantly he began strolling toward them, “What seems to be going on here boys?” The sudden appearance of an acerbic voice caused the leader to whirl around, swinging his gun rather erratically.
“What are you doing standing old man!? We told you to hit the fucking deck!”
“Hey, woah! Woah!” He threw his hands in the air. “I just wanna talk, son. Get down to the bottom of this. Why are you folks robbing this poor bank, eh?”
The woman was the first to reply. “Do you live under a rock? We’re The Masked Deaths!”
“Oh yeah,” the blond man began to smile abrasively. “You’re those new idiots on the street trying to, what was it... ‘breathe life into this old business’?” The exactness of the words the man uttered to the ones he had just said not but the other day caused the leader to raise an eyebrow in suspicion.
“Just exactly who are you?” The inquiry seemed to cause even greater delight in the man.
“Just who am I? Just who am I? For one I am your elder.” His hand whipped out, grabbing the younger male’s wrist. “I am your superior.” With a twist of his wrist a large cracking sound emitted from the younger one’s body, forcing him to drop the rifle into the assaulter’s open hand. He quickly stepped back, turning the point onto the group of four. “I am The Soul Clock.” Upon uttering the name gasps could be heard echoing throughout the building, the largest and deepest coming from The Masked Deaths.
The woman began stuttering, “Y-You mean.. The Soul Clock? D-didn’t you retire a few years back?” She was cowering back, dropping her gun and raising her hands.
“Yes. The Soul Clock. You are correct, I am retired. But I’m not afraid to show you young dumbasses how its done. So how about you other two drop your guns, hm?” They quickly obliged while backing away. “Excellent.” He turned away from them, scanning the folk on the ground: “You can all stand up now. Does anyone have a cell phone handy? I imagine the police would be ecstatic to take these knuckleheads into jail.” | 2015-02-06T23:58:53 | 2015-02-06T22:43:19 | 39 | 19 |
[WP] Aliens evolved to be either a hive mind or individual powerhouses. Anything in between weren’t strong enough to survive. So, humans are the most feared in the galaxy as an extremely aggressive species that will kick your ass, their ass, and even their own ass. | Al'goth the hivemind shuddered as he detected several ships coming out of the legendary space known as "hyperspace." *Humans,* he thought, fearfully. *I need to get my bodies ready. There's no telling what those humans want. But... I think I know. I* do *have a lot of gold.*
The humans descended to Al'goth's planet, unwary of any of the defenses. Some automatic responses were triggered, but the humans' ships came out completely unscathed. Al'goth collectively shuddered again.
*Damn apes. They don't know when to quit. That should have deterred them.* Al'goth thought to himselves that he should just knock the humans out of the sky. But what if they retaliated? He couldn't bear the thought.
The humans launch their attack anyway. They carve a path straight to Al'goth's treasure trove. The humans then quickly deploy around 6,000 units and loot as much as they can. It's not just the gold they steal. They take technology and anything that looks of value. Then as quickly as they come, they leave. Al'goth knew he had to notify the galactic council.
No sooner had the galactic council heard Al'goth's story, the council simply laughed at him. "There's no defeating humans," they told him. "If you so much as cross them, they'll blow you to Kingdom come. You're lucky they didn't do more damage than they did. Just be glad they didn't eat any bits of you. Those damn apes will eat anything."
Al'goth tried to protest but was cut off. "Humans are the most prolific species in the galaxy. They didn't get there for no reason. Each one has learned to act independently and also have a sense of synergy with others of their species. They know how to work as a team as much as they in-fight. By working together with their separate minds they are able to build technology that far surpasses anything we can muster. I believe you saw this first digit. You have billions in your collective, yet you function as one mind. That limits you just as much as it limits single specimen organisms. You wonder why you can't fight back? Don't make us laugh. While we sit and ponder, they continue to innovate and grow stronger."
"*Then perhaps it is time we begin collaboration on things of our own. If we are to defend ourselves from them, we should take pages out of their book.*"
"Stealing will get us nowhere, Al'goth."
"*I never said we would steal. If we don't do something, they will keep taking from us. We must continue to exist as we once did. And I believe to do so we must all band together. Every single mind. Not in the way of the hive mind, but in the way of the human.*" | The hive-mind of Ur’nōhai was one that was particularly aggressive. Should anything enter the atmosphere of it‘s homeworld, it would send it’s millions of rapidly produced soldiers to eliminate the intruders. So, when the shell-less, hairless, bipedal meat sacks appeared in their contraptions of iron and steel, Ur’nōhai was quick to fight back. At first, it had a severe disadvantage; the chittering, rending insects that ripped apart ground creatures had no recourse for the heavens-dominating steel boxes, and dissimilar steel boxes on the ground were impervious to all but the acid spat by the difficult-to-produce soldiers created for guarding the central mind.
Evolution was necessary, and adaptation commenced. By the time every soldier-class bug was able to spit steel-melting acid, the flesh creatures had homes that could shoot back at the hivemind’s warriors. Evolution continued. Hardened chitin carapaces, capable of protecting against the burning-hot metal blasted constantly. Winged drones, weighty and sharp-clawed, spewing acid from all orifices, to take on the rulers of the heavens. Still, it was not enough; the humans seemed to regenerate their numbers as quickly as the Ur’nōhai could. Then, the other humans came.
A forward vanguard, with sensory organs to pick up humans’ radio transmissions, approached an outpost of the humans. The communications seemed panicked, but not because of the encroaching bugs.
«Unidentified vessel! This is AndroTech Outpost A-O three-three-seven-six! Your IFF is offline! Please identify or we will open fire!»
There was silence, then ‘AndroTech’ responded again.
«ANDROTECH MAIN THIS IS THREE-THREE-SEVEN-SIX! UNIDENTIFIED VESSEL HAS LAUNCHED NUCLEAR WARHEADS! I REPEAT, UNIDENTIFIED—»
The transmission cut out, and all sound ceased momentarily, before resuming in a wave of chaos. The sky split open, pouring light from the heavens, and unnatural heat swept across the planet. The explosion tore enough of the ground away to reveal the heart and mind of the Ur’nōhai, which did not have enough time to so much as think about what happened before another nuclear warhead was detonated, obliterating it and the planet.
AndroTech Vessel Delta-Eight-Seven-Two-Four receded from the solar system, the captain smiling smugly. His investment was well worth it, it seemed. | 2021-07-08T06:41:36 | 2021-07-08T06:08:53 | 351 | 153 |
[WP] People's powers match their personality: impatient people get super speed, protective people get force fields and so on. Explaining why you have your power is... difficult. | The ball spins through the air as the Quarterback falls to a well-executed blitz behind it.
The entire bar holds their collective breath as a 50-yard Hail Mary hangs in the air for almost forever before perfectly landing in the arms of a receiver running along the 30-yard line.
Screams and cheers erupt from the normally-indifferent as well as fans of both teams as the ball makes its way to the 20-yard line. Defense closes in tight. The 10. An attempted tackle at the 5...
The bar television immediately jumps to a news network, which has just started a local interest story about fish. Groans of disbelief replace cheers of excitement. A few of the more... expressively-powered folk have to put out fires, mop up spilled beers.
The owner looks at me with that half-anguished expression common to people who are almost numb to frustrating things beyond their control. He knows it’s me. I made the mistake of apologizing once. He sets the TV back. The field goal attempt is no good.
Me, I’m looking for that one person. There’s always that one person; this doesn’t happen without them. A target is always necessary for empathic gifts.
I can’t see anyone standing out with just a cursive glance, so I go back to my drink. I’ll be honest, I’m not sure I want to know who it is in this crowd that is spreading bad information about fish. I don’t mean to correct them; it’s hard for me to control, like a reflex or a bad habit.
I can’t help it. I just don’t like it when folks are wrong. | People never really saw me for who I am, they saw a facade. I put on a calm, brave face, but in reality I was a raging inferno of hatred just waiting to unleash my fury. It had been this way my whole life, there were times when I really thought I was going to kill someone because of how angry they were making me.
Then it happened, the shockwave, the one that set the whole world into a new motion. Most people got really useful powers, some got flight, others got speed, my mother god bless her heart got the power to heal. I on the other hand, I got fire. Hellfire. I got the power to burn anything and everything at the flick of a wrist. I believe in fiction it had two names, Pyromancy when magic was directly involved, and Pyrokenisis when it was a form of telekinetic power. I dont quite know which category I'm in, all I know is that I can burn things.
Its hard to explain to people that no, I'm not the chill, carefree person they saw me as, and that in fact I'm so angry I can literally set the world on fire. A lot of people called me a liar, a freak, I've even had a couple call me a demon before... but really, I'm just the same guy, exposed for who he really is. | 2019-09-08T08:45:34 | 2019-09-08T05:15:24 | 191 | 120 |
[WP] A little known cosmic fact is that there were only ever 10 billion human souls produced. As the population slowly creeps upwards, the department of reincarnation struggles to find a workaround. | A little known cosmic fact is that there were only ever ten billion human souls produced. I know, I know—that sounds like a lot. And it was, at first. But now it isn’t.
Each time someone dies, they’re reincarnated nearly immediately. The death to rebirth time has shrunk from years and years to days. Now, that’s not entirely bad. People learn more that way—sitting in limbo for hundreds of years doesn’t do much for development.
But the thing is we ran out. We thought we had a few more years, but, well… everyone makes mistakes. Fewer people died than we’d anticipated—which is a good thing!—but also but us in a bit of a jam.
So that’s where you come in. You lucky, lucky soul.
It’s a bit of a test run, still. We’re working through the kinks. You can anticipate some… difficulties as we get you settled in. But imagine the stories you’ll have!
Anyway. I digress. The basics of it are this: you’ll occupy two bodies at once. Isn’t that neat!
So here you are, in the hospital in Ann Arbor, Michigan and here you are in a hospital in Amman, Jordan. Here you are, dying of lung cancer (maybe this time you won’t smoke) and here you are, a newborn in a different hospital on the other side of the world.
There’s only one catch to this: you’ll remember your last life. Usually reincarnation gives you a blank slate between each try. But you need the downtime, so to speak, to get the reset.
So, yeah. There’s a little cosmic lesson for you. Your crossover shouldn’t be long. Hopefully. And just think of what you’ll do this time, knowing what you know now. Don’t waste this chance.
And, my friend—good luck.
*
r/liswrites | “Next slide. And in conclusion, that is how we can allow Humans to continue to reproduce beyond the 10 billion-soul cap. Thank you” Ted bowed as he waited for the applause that he was due.
It never came. Despite the large conference room in the Department of Reincarnation being packed, the room remained silent at the end of Ted’s presentation. The silence was defining.
“Thank you for your presentation, Ted.” James Sutherland, head of the Committee on Soul management broke the silence, “Your ideas on Humans without souls were… quite... interesting, and something this committee will consider moving forward.”
Ted gave a halfhearted smile and took his seat without another remark. The committee would not be taking his idea further.
“All right,” James continued reading down the schedule before him, “The last presentation this morning is from Liz Fletcher. Liz the stage is yours.”
​
Liz took the podium in front of the room, “Of course Mr. Sutherland. To umm, stall for a sec while Ray resets the slide deck, I've tried to keep this presentation short as I think we all want to break for Lunch, so-” A thumbs up from Ray stopped her prattle.
With a gulp, Liz began, “With the upcoming breach of the uh, 10 billion-soul cap I believe that we can look at one of the humans’ own creations for a soul-tion.”
If the room noticed the pun, they ignored it.
“So, Using computers as a model, we can work around the soul cap by multithreading souls. Next slide please.” | 2020-10-07T21:52:52 | 2020-10-07T19:58:11 | 292 | 167 |
[WP]The zombie apocalypse has come and gone. Humanity has survived and prospered, but with the virus still inside every single human. Centuries in the future, we are at war with an alien race, and they are horrified to learn that we don't stay dead easily. | Private First Class Andrew Cass stumbled over the rocky ridge as alien blaster fire thundered above. They were being pushed back, there was no denying it. Along what amounted to their front lines, the alien spearhead had already broken through in numerous places. The squads of exhausted marines that held the line were being overrun as enemy shock troops closed in.
“Who’s in charge here!” He shouted to a group of Marines manning a heavy machine gun. A young Sergeant looked up, near panic in his eyes as they poured fire on the horde of enemy fighters quickly moving through their defensive trenches. “Command bunker is 20 yards down this trench sir!” the bewildered sergeant shouted back. He was yelling it out, the chatter of machine gun fire drowning him out. As the sergeant stood up to point down a long trench that led to a half buried bunker, he was knocked back by a volley of fire from an unseen enemy. The needle like supersonic projectiles tore through his body. The alien rifle ordinance didn’t leave much of an entrance or exit wound, but the nerve toxin like effect they had on humans would kill within seconds.
As Cass dove for cover he found himself lying next to the dying man. As the sergeant took his last breath, Cass rolled over just in time to hear the muffled pop of the mans Cortical Implant. Implanted at birth, it was a stark reminder of the last near extinction humanity had faced, and the desperate measures it had taken to ensure their survival. He now saw the pooling blood and brain matter that poured from the mans head, the small explosive charge in the implant had destroyed the brainstem from within.
Cass got up and stumbled forward. He began to run toward the bunker, his already battered body aching with the effort. Two sentries waved him through and he dashed through the narrow opening. Cass ran right into the command bunker, nearly colliding with the half dozen men huddled over their communications equipment.
“Sir” he managed to stutter breathlessly, “Bravo team is overrun, we’ve lost the landing zone”
The men in the room all stopped what they were doing and stared straight at him. It was over. With the landing zone lost, there would be no more reinforcements, ammunition or water. They were cut off, fighting a loosing battle against an enemy that didn’t take prisoners. They were going to die.
A man in a Colonels uniform stepped forward, a bandaged but still bleeding wound on his face visible. He motioned for one of the men manning the long range radio to pass him the receiver. He stared at the wall for a moment before clearing his throat and getting on the radio.
“This is Colonel Andrews. We are overrun. We will loose this position in minutes. We can not let them advance past us, everything is on the line.”
He paused for a moment before speaking into the receiver again, “Initiate plan X-day, deactivate the Briggs-Stratton protocol for this sector”
The room went silent. All around him the marines all looked at each other in disbelief. No one spoke as the radio crackled in response, “Roger that. This is CommandNet, deactivating Briggs-Stratton in your sector”
All the men in the room rushed to the lone slit window of the bunker, and Cass muscled his way to get a view of the battlefield below. The effect was almost immediate. The momentum of the alien assault was being blunted. Pockets of cut off marines that were being systematically destroyed by alien shock troops now ground down the enemy lines.
In the distance, Cass watched as a squad of marines who had been surrounded were cut down by enemy rifle fire, only to rise up and tear their killers to shreds with their bare hands. On the main road leading to the bunker, he saw a panicked alien squad stumble back down the line as their fire failed to stop a now growing horde of the recently dead coming back to hunt them. They were desperately pouring fire down the line. Their supersonic needles passed through flesh and bone, but still they came. The nerve toxin imbedded in the projectiles all but harmless to the creatures that now pushed them back, tearing, biting and devouring them as they went.
Cass took a deep breath and smiled. Humanity would survive. It had squared up on the apocalypse before. It had clawed it’s way out of extinction and had the scars to prove it. He thought out loud, “You fucked with the wrong species, asshole..”
-J | The afflicted weren't as numerous as they where before. Zombies had a hard time
dying but their lifespan wasn't infinite. For the most part they ignored the
living and preferred cooler, darker places. And apart from a few separatists
the living where content leaving the dead be. After all they where a reminder
of the virus that they all now carried. Scientist where never able to defeat
the virus but managed to make it dormant. A smooth natural death resulted in a
natural corpse. Anything else and the body remained functional but grotesquely
mutated, becoming stronger and feeling no pain whilst the mind slowly withered
away. After months, sometimes years all that remained where instinct driven
ghouls that avoided contact of any kind.
One summers day NASA reported with glee that the signal one of the deep space
probes had been picked up again. Somehow the little vessel found its way home.
The DOD was not amused and started cautioning nations globally to be alert.
For days the signal grew strong as speculation rose as to the how and why. Most
skeptics where silenced when the vessel seemed to be heading in a straight line
to earth. Coincidence this was not.
Soon all military forces where on high alert with all direct action being held
back by the hope for a peaceful intent. The first contact squashed that hope.
Seeing that their intent was conquest they had little use for weapons of mass
destruction, the idea being that claiming land burning in nuclear fire was
pretty useless. So they specialized in efficient weaponry designed to quickly
end life, much like a slaughterhouse. After that the meat could be processed
(if viable) and the rest of the resources could be claimed.
The human emissary found this out the hard way. They had little problems
understanding human language but did not respond. Their only response came in a
quick flash from a stick or spear like object. The emissary dropped to the
ground grabbing his chest. Soon the field erupted in gunfire which had little
if any use. The entire platoon accompanying him where met with similar faiths
as him.
Smugly the commander looked at the carnage. This was going to be quite easy.
Commands rolled out for the processing of the bodes and the creation progress
estimates for complete acquisition of the planet. Soon the men where picked up
to be transported to the science section for further evaluation and processing.
The sky was black with drop-ships carrying troops across the globe.
This first indication of trouble was when the team carrying the bodies did not
return. The second that any meaningful military response was absent. Normally a
modicum of resistance was to be expected but nothing happened apart from small
groups seemingly isolating themselves from the rest in well defended
structures. The rest seemed to remain put.
The head scientist expressed his concern about this abnormal behavior but was
soon silenced by the commander.
A crew found the vessel carrying the bodies crashed 20 minutes after departure
the pilot and crew horribly mangled as if being torn to shreds in industrial
accident. The bodies themselves where missing.
As one of the scouts made his report a blackish creature was running towards
him but not like a normal biped, it was more like an arachnid on his home world
fast and erratic. On closer inspection it was wearing the emissaries clothes.
Up until this point the crew where mostly curious and amazed. That was until
the emissary "ran" up the communications officers body and with a single swipe
of its black, claw like hands knocked the head clean off his body tearing
through the heavy body armor like it was paper.
The crew fired all they had at the creature and finally managed to kill it (or
so they thought). But even with a 10 inch hole in its chest, its left arm
removed and most of its jaw missing the creature still managed to take out an
additional 3 members of the crew.
Nervously the crew members scanned the bushes in the slowly dimming twilight.
At the first rustle of the bushes they ran towards their ship.
At the command center only audio reached them: "Spiders !!!" quickly followed
by ghastly screams and the sound of crunching bones. | 2019-08-28T14:15:05 | 2019-08-28T11:09:28 | 68 | 44 |
[WP] Okay, hear me out: a blind woman, right? A blind woman falls in love with Medusa. She wanders into Medusa’s meadow, Medusa pities her and takes care of her. They then fall in love. <3 | Medena wouldn't have thought that she would find warmth around the cold body of Medusa. Her warmth came from the way she spoke, the way she behaved around Medena. She even had concerns and felt the burden of mundane stuff such as that morning when she looked into the clear water surface and sighed because the snakes were a mess. Medusa explained that sometimes they got moody and wiggled in all directions making her look like a buffoon.
'What is the reason for that smirk?' Medusa's voice came from behind Medena's head.
'Oh, nothing.' Medena lifted her head as if her blind eyes could see the one holding her. She offered Medusa a smile.
'You know,' Medena added as she leaned her head on Medusa's chest. 'I wish I could see you.'
Medena could hear the snakes slither, giving away Medusa's surprise. For someone with her reputation she was also like an open book. Medena had never met someone so showing of their emotions and to her it felt like honesty. Medusa was the most honest person she had ever met.
'You once told me that never in your life have you wished to see.' Medusa's answer came after a couple heartbeats. 'That sight would make the world you perceive lose its beauty.'
Medena raised her head and offered another smile. She heard the snakes move and then go completely quiet, they were probably looking at her as well.
'It would lose nothing.'
Edit: *It* | The blind woman woke up in a cold sweat and jumped out of bed.
Medusa jumped up too. "What? What is it my love?"
The blind woman, shaking and in tears, pointed at the bed. "I-I-I h-heard a-a-"
Medusa came closer. "Heard what, my dear?"
"A-a-a...snake!"
Medusa reared back in surprise, a stone of dread settling at the bottom of her stomach. "A snake?"
The blind woman nodded. "Lots of them! By my head!"
"Oh..." said Medusa. "So you're scared of snakes..."
"Yes," said the blind woman. "I can't stand them! They're the reason why I'm blind. When I was a little girl, I was playing in the forest and I grabbed a stick that turned out to be a snake and it shut venom into my face and bit me in the eyes." She was shaking with anger now. "If I wasn't blind, I would kill every snake that I could see."
"Oh..." Medusa said softly, looking away sad and patting her head of snakes to calm them down and keep them quiet. | 2022-04-29T10:24:43 | 2022-04-29T09:49:31 | 385 | 43 |
[WP] You've been dating your partner for six months. Tonight they've invited you to a work event, and as you step onto the red carpet, you realize it for the first time: you're dating a celebrity. | As the car slowed in the lineup, I forgot to breathe. It was all beginning to make sense. I knew Talia was well-off, but the limousine seemed a little extravagant for a work outing. It made me a little uncomfortable to be in one of these, again. It had been so, so long-- a different time, a different life altogether. They'd seen to that.
But now it was all falling into place. The fancy clothes, how Talia kept reassuring me that everyone was going to love me. As the cameras flashed in a flurry, snapping the photos of the couple exiting the limo in front of us, it made sense. Not her workmates. The tabloids. The public.
My mouth went dry, and my pulse was racing. We were next. If I didn't get out, what would happen? Would the paparazzi just shoot through the darkened windows? What could they see? Could they make out my face well enough for them recognize it?
It had been seven years, but it wasn't long enough. I knew good and well they'd never forget, never stop looking. Seven years since my life ended, and I was charged with restarting from nothing. A new name, a new haircolor, a new history. If they'd been able to change my face, I'm sure they would have. But no, I still looked like me. The daughter of what was once a notorious mafia boss. My pretty little face, a little less lined with age and worry, had been plastered all over the papers when my testimony went public in the largest mafia bust to ever shake the Eastern seaboard.
Before the trial even went to court, the death threats had begun. I'd tried to be stubborn about it. Tried to hold my head high, and not let them scare me. It wasn't until I came home to that box on the balcony of my tiny apartment that I'd finally cracked and admitted I needed witness protection. I could still remember every detail of peeling open the brown cardboard. The smell that hit my nose as I stared down at the dark mass within. I didn't register what it was right away. Not until I recognized the collar.
"...Ana?" Talia looked to me, concern in her brown eyes as the car began to move forward. "What is it? Please, don't be nervous. The cameras may be a little extra in-our-faces since I've never walked the carpet with another woman before, but I promise. It's not really that big of a deal anymore. They'll get their debut photos and move on."
I barely heard her, my frame all but paralyzed as the car began to slow. It was our turn. "You said you were an executive," I breathed, barely able to find my voice.
"I-- Ana, the movie. It's called _The Executive._ You can't-- you knew, didn't you? Talia Elliot, my name is in all the..." Her voice trailed, perfect red lips hanging open for a moment in shock as she registered the sheer fear in my eyes. "You had no idea."
"I don't go out much, Tali," I whispered.
And that was all there was time for. The doors flew open, a smiling man in a tuxedo offering out a hand to help Talia from her seat. She looked back at me, brow furrowed with concern as she reached out to squeeze my hand. "We'll talk about it tonight. Don't worry, I'm right here with you. They're all going to love you, I promise!" And she rose, stepping out.
I sat frozen in my seat, the blinding flurry of camera flashes reducing her to little more than a silhouette in front of me. There was the briefest beat of an expectant pause as they waited for me to follow, before one of the more assertive paparazzo craned over the red velvet ropes that barred them from the carpet. I looked at him, eyes obscured by the camera, that black lens reflecting my pale, panicked face.
And then the flash went off, and I knew it was all over. | It wasn't for some time that I began to realize something was weird... off... about her interactions when we talked about going out. This wasn't a huge problem for me as I understood her job to be very difficult. She traveled constantly. Extremely busy. Out till all hours of the night. We lived across the hall from each other for months until one day I introduced myself and asked for a cup of sugar for a cake I was making for my sister one evening in February.
New York is beautiful in the winter.
She slid a glass measuring cup (the ones with the red lettered measurements on the side) through a crack in the door (apparently she doesn't know liquid measurement tools are separate from solids... ol well... this'll be plenty, I thought). Her slight English accent squeaked through the crack in the door as I said "thanks... uhhh... my name is Jimmy..." her response was a closed door.
That was months ago. We've been dating for 6 months at this point. The first month of our time together (first initiated by me asking her over to try devils food lava cake that I had been workshopping for at least 2 weeks which started a cooperative love affair with food. She ate like garbage. Always blamed it on being too lazy and too cheap. She would come home late, ask if I had any cake (this went on for 2 weeks) and eventually I started making her real food. I'd put extra in the fridge for her and she would come over and have a few bites before we fell asleep watching some old AMC rerun. I never had anything else running on my tv. She seemed to like that about me. One night she kissed me and I kissed her back. She basically moved in the next week. Her place was always a wreck. Blamed that on being busy too. It got so I would pack her lunches most days and she would have dinner over at my place most nights and we would fall asleep listening to some tunes or a black and white movie in my run down apartment on my beautifully huge couch.
She seemed to really like that she didn't have to talk about her work with me and since we only ever ate my work, we didn't have to talk about that either. Everything changed one day when I heard her approach our shared hallway and then go into her apartment instead of mine with a hurried sounding frantic key-fooling. I knocked on her door to see if she was hungry and she just yelled back in an intense voice before I got the chance knock more than once
"Come to the my work party tonight. Leaving in 45 minutes. Put on something nice."
Confused, a little worried with how strange she was being, I went back into my apartment, turned off the oven that had a braised duck resting in it (I was trying to impress her that particular night) and went to the back of my closet to find an old suit from my best friends wedding forever ago.
She came over 15 minutes later looking like I'd never seen her before. Red hair pulled back out of her face except for one almost blonde sliver that somehow magically stayed in the perfect place on her beautifully freckled face. Left leg peaking out through a long slit in a hunter green dress that hinted at deep dark forests in the pacific north west. Her necklace was a long triangular minimalist piece that dropped down low on her chest.
She was stunning.
I was a potato compared to her. And not a well prepared red potato you get at fancy restaurants. A dirty, unwashed russet. My hair was a messy long and stubble showed in just the perfectly wrong neck beard places.
"Who are you?" I asked in a low voice as I went in to kiss her.
"Some people call me Hermione," she said with a smile. Curious. I kissed her beautifully smelling neck and she leaned away toward the door.
"Come one, our limo awaits. We're about to have a weird night, you and I."
EDIT: formatting | 2017-06-14T12:00:32 | 2017-06-14T10:18:55 | 372 | 34 |
[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 | “D-did you just bite the table?” The hooded figure asked.
“Yeah.” The teenager shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly.
“Why would you bite the table?” The hooded figure took off his hood exposing his aged face.
“I dunno, just felt like the best option.” The teenage picked at his teeth, apparently apart of the wooden leg was stuck between his teeth.
“I presented you with magical powers if you ate the *food*, and yet you bite the wooden table?” The figure couldn’t get his mind around this. “What possesses you to bite the leg of a table when a banquet is laid out in front of you?”
“I dunno.” The teenager rolled his eyes and shrugged “thought it might give me all the powers combined or something since nobody ever did that before.”
“You thought,” the figure pinched the bridge of his nose. “You thought biting a wooden table would give you omnipotence?”
“Is it really that far fetched?” The teenager picked up a slice of watermelon “this would’ve given me the power of water.”
“Yeah but that makes sense.”
“How?”
“What?”
“How does it make sense that a watermelon slice would give me the power of water!”
“Well cause.” The figure looked around the room, the concepts made sense to him of course, but he was from a long line of the honored hosts that bestowed 16 year olds with powers. “Cause it’s *water*melon”
“*water*melon?” The teenager chuckled
“Well what do you supposed I bestow to you?” The figure through his hands up. “All the powers of a wooden table?
“That’s better than all the powers of a durian I suppose.”
The figure stared blankly at the teenager for several minutes, the teenager stared back at him. The silence was accented by the teenagers growing frustrations.
“Well?” The teenager asked.
“Well what?”
“Are you going to give me my powers now or what?” The teenager sassed
“I don’t even know what to give you.” The figure pulled a book off a table, the book was basically a cheat sheet in case he had forgotten what foods gave what power. “What powers would a table even have?”
“Uhhh.” Even the quick witted teen had to think for a moment. “Super strength? Cause tables hold a lot of weight.”
“You would’ve had to have eaten the spinach for that.”
“How about skin hardening cause the table is hard?”
“That’s what the coconut is for.”
“How about the ability to sprout a tree?”
“Bowl of nuts.” The figure shrugged his shoulders. “Everything you can think of has a food related to it, there is nothing on biting the table.”
“Well can I get a redo then?”
“No..” the figure looked at the teenager like he was a moron, which wasn’t entirely an unsuitable label.
“Why not?”
“Because you bit a table.”
“I want to speak to your manager.”
“What?” The figure looked as confused as he did when the teenager masticated part of the mahogany table.
“When my mom doesn’t get her way with something, she asks for a manager. So I want your supervisor.”
“I don’t have a supervisor, I am my supervisor.”
“Well you should fire yourself, I’m leaving a bad review on your yelp.”
“My what?” | I sit there with a selection of dishes in front of my eyes. I know that some will give me certain powers; like the apple will bless me with unequalled charisma, the apple of everyone's eye so to speak. The lobster's shell gives a personality that cannot be affected by those words, the lobster flesh allows speaking to aquatic animals and so forth.
There was a two-way mirror in front of me. I knew it was two-way for there was nothing else in the room, not even a doorway. I felt the faceless white coats behind the glass watching me, staring intently, expecting me to peruse the wares on the table.
Each time a new dish was prepared that nobody else had picked, probably an experiment to see what that dish does I suppose. I knew what it was this time, it looked like porridge with honey, but had a foul smell that the honey barely had a chance of covering up.
I couldn't decide. I knew that there would be *some* choice but I didn't know what there would be in front of me for definite. I had always planned on working with computers but technomancers were usually born with that power and brought into the room for a secondary power.
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I felt the scientists' anticipation mount as I made my decision. I was going completely random, just, to see what I got... And prayed that the 'porridge' wouldn't find it's way into my mouth.
"Fuck" I said out loud, banging my teeth against the glass table top
Noises akin to laughter came from behind the glass. I knew they were watching and I still managed to mess this up. I felt so ashamed I couldn't bear to look up, grabbing a tissue and holding it against a split lip.
The laughter calmed, and I thought to myself "it's time for plan B". I glanced at the mirror again one last time before I made my final choice; there was a bowl of chips that would, hopefully tie into computer chips. I grabbed a handful and shoved them in my mouth, looking at the mirror all the while.
Nothing. Why hadn't I been transported back yet? I'd been told that usually it was instant-
Ah. There we are, back my school, bike racks as gritty as ever. Someone must have seen me go, as a crowd already formed, ready to pester me with questions; inquisitive children I'd never even spoken to generating an untold amount of white noise.
"Shut up" I thought to myself.
Silence.
"Excuse me, I need to get to class"
The sea of kids parted, leaving me a path to the front door. Still silent. Somehow I had the ability to control people? All I had was the crisps...
My lip let a drop of blood seep out, pressing the napkin harder I let out a wince. Seemingly the children closest to me also flinched, holding their hands over their mouths. This was going to take some figuring out. | 2020-03-19T13:33:44 | 2020-03-19T11:12:51 | 27 | 15 |
[WP] A soldier on the front dies in the middle of writing a letter home. It is finished and sent by the man who killed him. | Sammy,
I know that I've been away from home for a long time now, and I'm sorry. My, you must be big now! You were just starting to crawl when I went away. I'm writing this letter so that you'll remember who I am once we are re-united. You make sure that your mom has a picture of me right over your bed so that you see me every night before bed time.
I'm deployed here in France, fighting against those Germans. They're bad men, Sammy, and you should know that your old Dad is doing important work over here. They're sending us up to liberate the Dutch next. Probably shouldn't be telling you that in a letter, but the battle will be over by the time I send this. I'll make sure to get you some tulip bulbs and a Luger as a souvenir. They'll never know what hit 'em.
The morale here is pretty low, as are the supplies. Having plenty of good food is one of the things I miss most about home. And having a nice warm bed. We are all very miserable in the cold, wet weather of Northern France. It is also very hard to have the threat of attack hanging over our heads at every moment, knowing that the Panzers would overrun our defenses in a moment. I only wish I could come back home to America to be with you and forget all of this senseless violence. We really have no reason to be in this war at all; it seems that we are simply the lapdogs of the French and the British. Our real war is with the Japanese; they are the ones who attacked the United States.
Frankly, I think we should be *allied* with the Third Reich. It is really the Communist threat that we should fear. I only wish that we could somehow make our leaders see this. Son, you must certainly tell your mother all of these things and ensure that she talks to her neighbors and friends and family. We must all contact our politicians and tell them that this misguided war must end as soon as possible!
I hope to see you soon, son.
Signed,
Your Father. | My love,
I miss you and the child terribly. Life in the trenches is hard, but bearable, knowing that-
*A fold and several stains coat the paper.*
---
To whom it may concern:
No words can express my sorrow for your loss. Gerard was a brave man - a good soldier, one who anyone could be proud of.
War is hell. Men who would otherwise have been brothers are pitted against each other and forced to kill to survive. We soldiers are not enemies - these wars are fought by politicians, not by the men in the field.
Gerard was a remarkable man. He didn't let his fear for his own life turn him into a killer - he held to his morals in the darkest and the most hellish of environments.
I wish I was as much of a man as he was. I killed him with a knife to the throat - out of fear, out of cowardice, out of my own inability to see past my need for survival.
I know it won't help, but I'm sorry - I should have been the one to die, not him.
I killed my brother - we were all brothers.
In the end, we differed only by the side of the trenches we were on.
-P. Bäumer
---
^This ^is ^a ^reference ^to ^Erich ^Maria ^Remarque's ^*All* ^*Quiet* ^*On* ^*The* ^*Western* ^*Front.* ^If ^you ^haven't ^read ^it ^yet, ^look ^into ^it- ^it ^details ^some ^of ^the ^horrors ^of ^war, ^and ^the ^loss ^that ^comes ^with ^them.
Questions? Criticisms? Want to see more? Check out more of my stuff at /r/Draxagon | 2015-02-03T13:20:17 | 2015-02-03T13:02:09 | 202 | 48 |
[WP] You lost your sight - along with everyone else on Earth - in The Great Blinding. Two years later, without warning, your sight returns. As you look around, you realize that every available wall, floor and surface has been painted with the same message - Don't Tell Them You Can See. | When The Blinding first occurred, I thought I was the only individual affected. I was sitting at my desk working on a school paper and in an instant, everything went black.
I had cried out to my parents in fear and confusion, but their response was like an echo of my own. They, too, couldn't see. And we soon learned the entire world had been victim to having their sight filled with darkness. Interestingly enough, we don't think this affected any of the animals living on Earth. Just us humans. The only strange thing that occurred after this was the fact that the demand for Milk skyrocketed.
At first, adapting was extremely difficult. Something as mundane and simple as using the bathroom had become a daily challenge I didn't look forward to.
Within a few months, support groups had been created by individuals who were already blind prior to the incident. They assisted those who were struggling with adapting to their newfound obstacle.
Thankfully, the world never really stopped moving or progressing. Outside of major adjustments that had to be made, such as devising a different mode of transportation or different requirements and standards in the working world, we managed to pull through.
It's been about 2 years since The Blinding and there were times where I had forgotten such an event occured.
I was taking a short walk to the store to get some groceries. I don't know why, but I've developed an almost dependency like state on milk. I had gripped the handle to the door to the small grocery store and pushed the door open. A bell was hung on the inside handle of the door.
"Hello, let me know if you need help finding anything." A voice said to my right.
"Thanks, Dave. I will." I responded.
"Hey John! How've you been?" he asked with a somewhat enthusiastic tone.
With a somewhat slow pace I walked around the store, feeling along the brail to determine if I had found my item.
"Pretty much the same" I said with a bit of a chuckle.
My hand touched something cold. Finally. Found the milk.
As I was about to open the door I could see my reflection in the rectangle shaped window of the cooler.
I wasn't entirely sure how to react nor was I sure as to what happened. I was looking. At myself. In a mirror. For the first time in two years.
I started shaking and I could feel warmth and moisture filling my eyes.
I noticed writing on the reflection itself. I was so excited I hadn't even noticed. In fact, most of the interior was covered in this writing. Looked a little closed at the message written in black.
*Don't tell them you can see.*
What the hell does that mean? Who's them?
I then caught a glimpse of the individual standing behind the counter of the store.
Who...what the fuck is that...
"John? You need some help buddy?" it asked. It had Dave's voice, but it definitely wasn't Dave. And the way it's mouth moved was...
Wait, is that it's mouth? I have no idea.
I was staring at something that was at least 6 feet tall. Grotesque and eldritch was the only way I could describe it. It's dark brown skin was smooth and moist with extremely tiny openings in its skin. It wasn't wearing any type of clothing. It's arms were somewhat long and thin looking appendages that ended in human looking hands. Its head was shaped like a large Basket Ball. The creatures mouth looked to be in a vertical position and when it spoke I could see many layers and rows of crocodile like teeth.
"Here John, let me come help." It said. Its voice had changed as well. It was gurgled and sounded like it was being put through a filter.
As it moved I could hear it squish against the floor. That's the first time I've ever heard that. Why am I hearing that just now? Why have I never heard that before?
Instead of gaping at the reflection and trying to ascertain how it walks, I simply stared at a jug of milk.
That's when I noticed the color of the milk. It wasn't white or brown or any color a milk should be. It was dark black.
As the creature grew closer a foul smell harassed my nostrils. It took everything I had not to vomit.
It reached out with it's human like appendage and touched my shoulder.
My entire body tensed up.
"We're having a lot of different specials on milk today." It said and I could see its mouth open wide behind my head with what I assumed was a smile. | When I was younger, my mother told me that no matter what happens I needed to be strong. She told me that the world was a cruel place and my sister Kay needed protecting. It didn’t make sense to me at the time, this world was full of wonder and adventure. My thirst for adventure led me to the Army when I was eighteen.
One day my commander called me into his office. There was an accident back at home. My mother and sister were involved in a car accident, killing my mother and gravely wounding Kay. I was given some leave time to return home and grieve. The next few months were rough, rougher than anything the Army had put me through. My days were spent tending to my sister for the accident had left her blind. Little did I know that the real trials were yet to come.
A few years later my time in the armed forces were up. After leaving the Army, I was able to get an apartment for my sister and I. Despite losing her eyesight, Kay was able to live happily. For a while, I believe I was happy too. Then, one day I woke up in my dark room. I could hear the television in the other room. The news was on as I was slowly making my way out of bed.
“This is an emergency, please stay in your homes until we have further information”
This snapped me out of my auto-pilot. What had happened? I walked over to the other side of the room in the darkness. Feeling my way around I get to the light switch and turn on the lights. Nothing happens. Trying the light switch a few more times I start to feel like something is very wrong. I feel my way into the living room where the television is. That’s when it hit me, I was blind.
For two years there was nothing, just nothing at all. Everyone’s eyesight was gone. They ended up calling it the Great Blinding. Funny, how they give the worst things titles such as *great*. After the first few months everything started to seem like it was going to work out. Without eyesight, everyone started being a lot nicer to each other. There was no longer any prejudice based on skin or race because no one could tell the difference.
After two years of living in peace, everything changed once again. There was a terrible screech that woke me out of my sleep. I jolted up in my bed. Then again, I heard a scream. It was coming from my sisters room! Hastily, I made my way into my sister's room. There was someone in there with her I could hear her struggling. Jumping into the frey, I fumble myself on the back of this intruder. I was able to subdue the intruder and put him in a choke hold. My military combat training was paying off.
“Run away! I’ll hold him off Kay!” I yelled into the darkness.
There were footsteps moving heading out of the room. My sister would be safe. I could feel my choke hold working, this guy’s strength was fading. Just as I was sure this guy wouldn’t be getting back up anytime soon, a thud. Something hit me, and it hit me hard. Was my sister safe at least?
Some time later I woke up in my sister’s room. I could feel the sun on my face coming through the window. How long was I knocked out? I struggle getting up; my head hurts like hell. Wait a second, I start feeling around looking for my sister. She’s not here! Making my way to the window something feels different. The sun, I’m not just feeling it on my face, I can see it! I’m not really sure what is going on. Slowly, I opened my eyes.
My vision was back! What happened? Is this really happening? How am I able to see again? I turned around to once again go over the scene. Kay’s bed was bloody and the room a total mess. That’s when I noticed it. On the walls, on the ceiling, on the mirror. *DON’T TELL THEM YOU CAN SEE.* In the mirror, my reflection looks back at me. What I saw was terrifying. My eyes, they weren’t normal anymore. They were all black, no irises or anything else just black pupil. What happened to me? | 2022-10-09T01:59:27 | 2019-08-26T10:19:31 | 4,287 | 22 |
[WP] Write a Young Adult Dystopia but the government is competent at hunting down rebels. | Natkiss stood atop a rock outcropping, her knotted hair whipping in a jungle breeze as she took aim. An arrow soared through the air and *plinked* off of a metal drone's casing. It bobbed slightly, like a ship on the water, but quickly righted and continued firing at the rebel scouting squad.
"Shit," she yelled, scratching at the base of her head, then nocking another. "It's *really* hard to fight in an advanced combat scenario with a bow. Like, way harder than I thought."
Teepa grunted, popping out of cover to fire a few rounds, then immediately crouched back down, grunting. "I told you to get a gun, Nat. War is no place to worry about looking like a badass."
"**Please stop fighting us**," an announcer shouted through a booming intercom. He was saying the same thing every few minutes. "**This is your last opportunity. Any who value life, lay down your weapons and we will allow you to continue it. The standard allotment of one month for any rebellion to surrender has ended for you.**"
"To hell with the Order!" a few of the soldiers screamed back. One threw a grenade, and a megaphone was seen flying into the canopy briefly before crashing into the mud.
Sounds of automatic fire and explosions swirled through the forest, splintering trees and kicking up mud. Then-- silence, more hollow than the rebel's gameplan for taking down a fully established, modern government. Teepa and Natkiss shared a glance, concerned, then poked their heads out of cover.
The Order's troops were withdrawing.
They'd done it.
Whooping, shouting, cheering, the advance squad returned to their hideout, greeted by open arms and bottles of champagne. It was their first major victory in direct combat.
"To taking down an empire," Natkiss said, raising a glass. Everyone shouted in agreement, then went about to mingle.
She scratched at her implant again.
"Why do you keep doing that," Teepa asked, taking a sip. "Looks weird."
"I dunno, it's been bothering me today. Wish I could get it out."
"Don't we all. Maybe, once we take the Order down, we'll capture a doctor and have him remove these things."
Natkiss smiled, swirling her drink. "That would be wonderful."
At twelve sharp, a deep *clang* emanated from an antique grandfather clock one of the rebel council members, Corvin, had brought with him. A little reminder of home.
She hissed as a fingernail dug just a little too deep; the skin of her neck was starting to feel raw.
----
Wet boots crunched over broken glass and dreams in the dark cavern system.
Members of the Order swept the building, firing a few rounds into each corpse to ensure it looked like a proper battle had occurred-- and to be thorough, of course. Like there had been a great struggle, and they'd come out victorious after a long day of blood and sweat.
If any of the rebels had survived to tell you about what it was like at the end, they would've claimed to have heard the faintest *click*. A very subtle, muted sound as the metal implants inside of four thousand people activated, unlocking and unleashing three doses of a neurotoxin strong enough to kill a horse.
One soldier shined a flashlight over Natkiss; the makeup on half her face was swirling into a pool of champagne and blood, bits of glass wedged into her cheek. Her right hand lay at the base of her neck, which was raked bloody.
Because, as it turns out, when a dystopian government chips people at birth-- it's not just for metrics or show.
It's a contingency plan.
---
*/r/resonatingfury* |
“Welcome to our secret headquarters” Zak announced grandly “We co-opted a base abandoned long ago, forgotten to all but a few we will be safe her” Clara’s head was still reeling her reality was based on aa foundation of lies. She had always had faith that the government was a force of stability and order but what she was being revealed to her had cut her to her core.
Clara was shook out of her thoughts by a klaxon going of followed by red warning lights bathing the facility in a crimson glow. The speakers in the base crackled into life “This is General Kifo you are surrounded we demand your immediate surrender” “How” Cried Zak “how have we been discovered”. “It matters not” announced No 4 “we must flee now and work it out later, quick to the secret tunnel we can make our way through them to the other side of the mountain and slip away” The voice of the general came through once more “And before you even think of it yes we have the escape tunnel secured … this did used to be a government base you know we have the plans on file” The rebels in the room looked at each other in shock and dismay. “Right then” No4 coughed “No need to fear my brave comrades No 1 will be able to send help I shall immediately contact him to assist In our extraction”
Once again Kifo’s voice came through the speakers “We already have your leader in custody awaiting trial I mean your idea of a secret hideout was *another* former military base just because it was mothballed doesn’t mean we forgot about them”. A dread silence gripped the room “No4 you are the leader now we must get you out of here so you can further our dream of a just and free society where no one is forced into the *grading*” Clara who had been overwhelmed and silent suddenly jerked awake. “Hang on what’s the *grading*” The rebels stared at Clara “What! How can you not know of the grading the horrific practice of arbitrarily being valued based of of points accrued that decide your entire destiny” Clara blinked “it sounds a lot like you mean finishing school” “Yes Obviously that’s what we mean” screamed Zak “How does that not horrify you how does that not cause your skin to crawl an …” Clara cut in “I’m gonna stop you right there, I’m beginning to feel like this isn’t a noble group of freedom fighters and is in fact a group of terrorists” No4’s eyes narrowed “Betrayal” he spat “ I bet you’ve even had your *vaccines* well you won’t be laughing when you get autism, Well we put a stop to that when we blew up the hospital” Clara by this point was beyond shock and was leaning towards breakdown “YOU BLEW UP A HOSPITAL!” Cara turned and sprinted to the doors “Where are you going!” thundered No4 “ I’m getting out of here” Clara yelled over her shoulder “I’m going to surrender and tell them you kidnapped me”
Hours later Clara was sat in the back of an ambulance being checked over several men in uniform approached “Miss Parker we just wanted to see if you we’re alright you’ve had a terrible ordeal”. “Yes thank you. What happened in there” “Oh we rounded them up” the official said “they seemed to think it would be a fight to the death in the end we just used stun grenades and arrested them. They had some real weird ideas very cult like. Still they can answer for their crimes now and the family members of those poor people in the hospital will have their justice”
Man weird day thought Clara | 2019-04-27T08:00:51 | 2019-04-27T07:55:00 | 2,855 | 24 |
[WP] After a freak accident sending you far back in time, somehow you make a new life for yourself. One day while whistling a tune from the future to yourself; someone joins in with the correct lyrics ... | "You're looking mint today, Mary"
"Really?" she blushed.
"No you mardy cow, now piss off, go on, out of my yard!"
The scowling woman rolled her eyes and scurried away in a huff. She'd had her eyes on his garden for weeks now, and he had no doubt she'd be back sooner rather than later to collect some clippings.
It had been 3 years since he had moved to the sleepy village of Knutsford, but it felt much shorter in his mind. Gripping a wooden mug of tea, he closed his eyes and inhaled. Long gone were the metallic smells of the tour bus table, the blaring screeches from the announcer's microphone and the harsh hit of the flickering floodlights. Tranquility washed over him like a sheet. It reminded him of the needles, the pills he had taken for years, only to not even approach this bliss.
Opening his eyes, he smiled and began strolling along the lane. Perhaps a walk into the centre was what he needed on such a beautiful day. A pair of hobbling figures approached from the other direction, clearly in a hurry. He grinned as he kicked the crutch from the boys grip, watching him tumble into the unstable arms of his friend.
"Plenty more where that came from - I'm not snide, am I?" He laughed. He began to hum as the murderous stares bounced off his back and went unnoticed.
*Step outside, summertime's in bloom...*
So what if the townsfolk didn't like him? He was happy, which was all that mattered. Not as if the people back in his time liked him either, and he'd hardly lost a night's sleep over *that*. He did wonder if they thought about him though. A well familiar memory creeped into his brain, not for the first or hundredth time since the accident. The print magazines. The paparazzi. His brother. It was because of him that he had left in the first place. He could almost picture the bile spewing from the editor's fingers. Where was his brother this time? A drug fueled bender? A four day sex party in the Mediterranean? One article suggested that his brother was last seen at a popular nightclub in New York where people dressed in chains and leather. The knocks on the door. The sleepless nights of so called friends chiming in, asking him to join the search parties.
*Stand up beside the fireplace, take that look from off your face -
You ain't ever gonna burn my heart out...*
Instead, he had donned his cap, put on a pair of dark sunglasses, and slipped off in the early hours of the morning. The morning itself was hazy, but he remembered walking to the old well and wishing upon the change in his pocket. An easier, simpler place to live was all he wanted. In a way, he'd definitely gotten it.
As he approached the hairy, grizzled vendor, he burst out into song, the wordless tune suddenly springing forth into vocalization.
He was free. Free of that life, free of obligations. Free from him.
*And so Sally can wait, she knows it's too late as we're walking on by...*
The vendor, distracted by the street urchins running past, almost involuntarily whispered back.
"Her soul slides away..."
Shocked, their eyes met.
"But don't look back in anger, I heard you say..." he mumbled, choking on his words.
"Liam?"
"Noel?"
"OH FOR FUCKS SAKE!" | I sighed wistfully as I worked in the kitchen. I know I had a thing for the Victorian Era back home but I really didn't think I would ever be here. Or that I'd be washing dishes in the kitchen of a bordello. The Madam and the girls had found me in the ally behind their... Establishment, and took me in. I don't know how I got to the alley and I don't know how I got tossed back in time. All I can remember before the blank spot in my mind is getting into a fight with a group of other girls.
The Madam said I would need to work off my debt to them after I was healed. I told her I didn't have money and that I wouldn't whore myself out to pay the debt. She asked what I would do and I offered to act as a bodyguard, cook, and maid. She agreed reluctantly but gave me a room, some clothes and set me to work as soon as I was able to go.
I was getting the parlor and halls ready for the evening rush and all I could think about as I cleaned was my Grandmother and her whirlwind romance with my grandfather that resulted in them getting married after only two weeks of knowing each other. Their story was on my mind because one of the girls who worked here had gotten engaged. Her name was Elizabeth and her new fiancee was named Adam. He was her customer. He never requested any other girl. He wasn't rich, but he wasn't poor and Elizabeth wanted out of this lifestyle.
Thoughts of my grandparents had me smiling and humming as I worked. Their song was on repeat in my head. Elvis Presley's "Can't Help Falling in Love" was the song my grandpa would sing for my grandma even though she didn't speak English and he didn't speak Spanish.
I was fluffing the throw pillows on one of the over stuffed sofas and Madam was allowing men in for the evening. The song restarted in my head and I hummed from the beginning. The Madam smiled indulgently at me as she assisted men in handing over money.
I was half way through the first chorus when a low, deep voice joined my humming.
"Take my hand
Take my whole life too
'Cause I can't help
Falling in love with you."
I paused and turned around. The man, because no woman I knew in this time had that deep a voice, was tall with brown hair and green eyes. He was smiling at me and moved on to the next few lines.
"Like a river flows
Surely to the sea
Darling so it goes
Some things are meant to be."
I blushed when he stopped and looked expectantly at me. I swallowed thickly and cleared my throat.
"Take my hand
Take my whole life too
'cause I can't help
Falling in love with you."
He grinned, all straight, white teeth that didn't really belong in this time, and bowed. When he straightened up he held out his hand and I reached out to shake it. "My name is Kyle, I'm from Santa Fe 1999."
"Faith Draven, Phoenix 2017." | 2017-09-14T23:41:40 | 2017-09-14T17:00:02 | 252 | 35 |
[WP] When they turn 14, every human gets an obscure super power with a lengthy description of it so they know what it is. But when yours arrives, it only says four words. “Don’t… | It was my turn.
I had seen others go in through these heavy metal doors to the machine.
No one really knew how it worked, but they did know that once you go into the room, you don’t come out the same way again.
My friend Oliver came out a few months ago, proudly showing off a piece of paper. His power was the ability to fly. It specified everything- the gravitational conditions for which his power worked, how many eggs to eat to make it more effective, a graph for how much energy he would use at different speeds, and so on. Oliver was taken into an advanced math class so he could understand some of the functions written on the paper, but I still managed to see him floating to school every day.
Tyler got the ability to heat up objects made of metal. It was a cool power, and he started lining his clothes with tin foil on cold winter days.
Trisha could easily find hidden objects. She never really explained how her power worked (she had burnt the paper explaining her power) but if something was missing she’d be able to figure out it’s location within a day, no matter where it was.
I could hope for a power like that.
Hopefully, I wouldn’t get something bad.
Melissa gained the ability to read minds. The moment she left the room with the machine, she complained of things being too loud, but that was just the start. She became way more shy, especially around older people at school. She became downright hostile to certain guys, not letting them within five feet of her. From what I heard, she discovered something about her dad that lead to him going to prison. I hadn’t heard from Melissa in weeks, she had switched to fully online school a little after getting her powers.
And then there was Mark. Needless to say, I didn’t want to end up where Mark did, so I really hoped I didn’t get his powers.
I stepped through the double doors to the machine.
It was enormous, a metal arc that filled the whole room. At the very front was a helmet like device, suspended through multiple metal rings and wires. Beneath this was a chair, similar to one you might see at the dentist.
I took a deep breath and sat in the chair. The helmet descended from the ceiling, a mechanical buzz as the machine powered up.
The lights on the machine blinked and flashed in a seemingly random sequence. The machine bleeped and chirped. Mechanical arms pushed buttons. I could hear the humm of the machine grow faster and louder…
Until it all stoped.
The machine let out a short piece of paper, printed like a grocery store receipt.
“Don’t you know, bruh?”
I read those four words again and again. Was it some sort of joke?
I gazed at my reflection in the shiny metal machine. Nothing noticeable had changed about me. I didn’t feel any different. I was supposed to have some sort of power.
I flipped the paper over, folded it, rubbed my eyes. Only the same four words:
“Don’t you know, bruh?”
Perhaps the machine had malfunctioned. I held the slip of paper in my hand and left the room with the machine.
“So how does it feel to finally have your power, my dude?” A blue vested advisor spoke to me the moment I got my power. It was this way for a reason: some people had powers that could be dangerous to others, and arrangements would need to be made immediately.
“I think something’s wrong with the machine.”
“The machine never makes a mistake, bro”
“I just don’t understand what my power is?” I handed the vested man the note from the machine.
“Wha-? Don’t you know, bruh? Its super obvious”
He read the note over quickly. “Ah, I get it little dude. It says here that -“
A sharp ringing noise suddenly filled my ears.
“Can you repeat that for me?”
“Sure thing, but it probably won’t help you much, bruh. It says ——-“
The ringing noise came back into my ears. I winced in pain as he spoke. I didn’t hear a word, and couldn’t even make out the movements of his lips.
“Well… thank you very much.”
I left, the slip of paper in my hand. The words practically taunted me.
“Don’t you know, bruh?”
No, I don’t know.
I don’t know, bruh. | "Don't use on yourself."
The name of my ability, Give Invincibility.
I was confused by the description, but the name seemed to tell me all I needed to know anyways.
Sure enough the first time I used it my friend had some of the others try punching him and he couldn't feel a thing.
He broke a pencil stabbing his hand, broke a slide by jumping onto it from the roof, and even slowly punched a dent into a wall before a teacher chewed him out.
As time went on I learned that I could even apply invincibility to multiple people. They could fight eachother without risk of harm leading to some fun schoolground wrestling matches, until the teachers banned it and we left campus to continue. I also learned that so long as I was within about a mile of them the invincibility would not wear off unless I wanted it to. One time we managed to make it last a week on my brother before he had to go on a baseball trip while I had soccer. The final limitation I ran into was it took about 30 seconds of concentration to put it on someone and I could only do one person at a time.
Alternatively I would use it to ward off bullies. Downside was I always had to have at least one other friend around. I didn't know what would happen if I used it on myself, but I've always heard the rules were a sort of universal law you had to follow, nut mine said don't... not can't. I thought better to not risk it so a few guys would occasionally give me shit if they caught me alone.
By the end of high school I was known as a problem child. I'd give invincibility to my friends and we'd make other keep to our will, I mean what were they going to do? We were literally invincible. Their abilities didn't matter to us so long as I was safe.
Then, three months before I graduated everything changed. I was walking home from school when I saw a small family walking ahead of me, two mothers holding hands and a young girl, maybe six.
They approached a cross-walk and when it said they could go the daughter hopped into the road ahead of them, then a loud horn roared from my left. I turned to see a semi-truck barreling down the road going ay least 60. The driver was frantic, and the brake lights were on, but the truck was picking up speed.
The young girl turned to the truck, now no more than 100 yards away and froze.
Her mother's rushed to her side, but they wouldn't have time to escape.
I screamed, then reached towards them.
Please work.
Please. Make. Them. Invincible.
A loud crash, the truck had tried to turn, but flipped on its side, then crunched to a grinding halt and wrapped itself around a single point. Then silence.
Everyone at around the cross section was dead silent looking at the scene until one guy charged to the wreck. He pointed to someone else and shouted "You! Call 9-1-1. Now!"
Then approached the head of the truck. "HEY! ARE YOU IN THERE? ARE YOU-" He took a step back from the truck.
A voice from inside called back. "How-? Am I dead? I don't feel a thing!
Someone else had ran to the back end of the truck, where it had wrapped itself. "There's two- no three people in here! They're unharmed!"
A wave of relief washed over me... then a wave of exhaustion.
I fainted.
When I had woken up there were emergency services all around. After a lot of talking it was determined that poor maintenance on his truck caused a break failure leading to the crash, but I had managed to use my ability on everyone before the truck hit. And I mean everyone in the area besides me. Shrapnel flew and bounced off of at least 5 other people according to eye witnesses. Plus the driver and the family were completely unharmed, physically at least.
I had managed to save them.
After this I had a lot to think about. I could use this ability for good. To help people.
So I joined the military.
(Part 1/2) | 2022-05-08T12:53:11 | 2022-05-08T12:13:59 | 41 | 16 |
[WP] When you were 10 years old a dragon saved your life. No one believed you, until he came to your house today asking for a favor. | I get it. Most people sat on their lawn for a relaxing time, you know? A makeshift picnic with their family, perhaps. A nice walkabout to smell the flowers and take in their vibrant colours. Digging a small hole in a secluded spot to hide your failures. All round fun stuff, right?
So I understand. I understand when my family ran away like headless chickens, which is impossible, because there were so many screams. While the dragon's monstrous wings blotted the sky, those screeches thickened the air, making it almost impossible to think.
Or maybe that was because of the mythical creature the size of a building stared down at me. Bright red scales with their flickering gold glints as they caught the sunlight shimmered, its leathery wings folding behind its back. It exhaled, sounding like a sigh and producing enough smoke for a nice ham or brisket. Each step tore my lawn and fence apart. Its long neck stretched down, and one gigantic eye, an iris of shocking yellow, stared at me.
"Um," was all I could offer in this particular situation. I tried to move a muscle. Any muscle. None responded, except for my ghostly, clenched knuckles gripping even tighter onto the book I was holding. I was petrified, stuck to the ground, my soul rising out of my mortal body and giving its vessel a quick hug before also screaming its head off.
"You," it growled, like the rumbling of thunder over distant cliffs. "I save your life, once before."
"My life?," I asked, eyes flitting over the creature's massive bulk. "I think I should remember something like this."
"It's only been 15 years, human," it said. "Surely you didn't forget."
And like a bolt of lightning splitting apart an old oak tree, my mind's foggy distress cleared. A distant memory of me, small and crying, huddling near a tree, far away from the carnival lights. A tiny, red lizard, with misshapen nubs on its back, came from between the myriad trees, pawing at me, practically dragging me back to civilization, mere meters away from the warm and safe arms of my parents.
"... Red?" I whispered.
It whimpered. Somehow. It was very strange. Like, how dogs do that little yap of pleasure when you scratch them just right under the chin? Amplify that by about a thousand, to a giant scaly monster.
But it was fine. It was good. I know it. It was stadium sized now, but this was the creature that saved my life, even when it was small and weak. Like I was.
"You have grown, human," it said.
"Buddy," I laughed. "I think you have to take a look in the mirror."
"You have grown, human" it repeated. "So it is only right that you repay your debt."
My face scrunched up in confusion.
"... What?"
"Is repayment a foreign concept to humankind?" it said.
"No, not really," I scratched my head. "I... guess. What do you need?"
"I, the great Red of the North--" it reared its head and roared majestically. I instinctively took a step back, bracing myself for impact.
"Want that sweet, fluffy thing, that you fed me on that fated day."
"... What?" I asked again. But the memory came back easier this time. "Cotton candy?"
"I do not know its name," it said. "All I know is that I tire of lava."
"You eat lava?"
"Do humans not eat lava?"
"Can't say I know anybody that does, no," I said. I scratched my chin. "Cotton candy, eh?"
Its eyes fixated upon me. Its forked tongue lolled out.
"There's a carnival nearby," I said. "I could probably get some there."
"Then what are you waiting for, human?"
"Well," I pointed at my smoking wreckage of a car, currently crushed under one of Red's giant left paws.
"Ah" it noted. "This is the device that humans use to travel, yes?"
"Yes," I said. "I have insurance on it, luckily. I wonder if this comes under 'acts of god'."
"Is the carnival far?"
"Too far for me to walk to, at least."
"Then," Red did a little shimmy, lowering himself once again. "Would you like to fly there?"
"Hell yes," I said.
---
r/dexdrafts | The people screamed as the creature’s large wings blotted out the sun, an ominous darkness falling over our small farming town. The dragon had returned, the creature that rescued me coming back to claim its debt. I was ready for this day; I knew that having such a creature save my life would be at a cost, like a deal with the devil, the deal was never in your favor.
It had been ten years since that fateful day. I was just a child when the creature soared through the heavens. They trapped me, surrounded by a group of hungry wolves. I thought I would die there until the fluttering wings sent the hungry creatures rolling back. Some wolves barked, trying to frighten the creature before falling away. One weak child, they could kill, but a dragon? The wolves knew when they were beat. It would be far too exhausting to fight such a creature.
The magnificent creature dropped to the ground, its quick sniffs dragging my hair back and forth. After a quick examination, the creature opened its jaws. At first, I thought it had saved me for an easy meal. That was until it spoke.
“Human, you are foolish to wander so far away. Had I not been here, you would have been torn apart by those ravenous creatures. When the time comes that I need your help, I hope you remember this day, because I’ll remember your scent.”
It left me stunned, in silent awe as it left as quickly as it had arrived. The dragon didn’t await my reply; it didn’t need to. It wasn’t as if I could say no to such a beast. Now I had that same stunned look, It may not have been my first time seeing such a creature, but it was impossible never to be in awe of it. The way it descended, parting the clouds before thumping against the ground.
“Where is the small mortal?”
Ah, that must be me. Stepping forward past all the screaming villagers, I approached the dragon. It gave me a look of suspicion before putting its snout near my face. That same gust of warm air felt as it sniffed me, pulling its face away.
“You have grown human. I expected to see a runt. You will have to do.”
“Is this about the favor?”
“What else would it be about? I have found a use for you. I want you to stay with me for two weeks. I need your assistance with a task.”
“Sure, let me just pack my-“
“NO, now.”
“Ok now, sorry.”
I moved towards the dragon, anxiously moving to its side. Was I meant to climb on it’s back? Would it get mad if I touched its back? I stood there for a few moments before it tilted its back towards me. Taking this as a cue to climb aboard. Once I was atop the beast, I couldn’t even scream before it threw itself towards the heavens, flying high before taking me back to its cave. Struggling to hold on to the scaled beast, relieved when we landed again.
“So, what do you want me to do? Watch your hoard?”
“Like I would leave something so precious with a human.”
Hoping off the dragon’s back, I hit the ground, staring at the cave entrance, watching a small dog sized dragon run out, jumping at what one could assume was their parent. Once the small dragon had said hello to its parent, it came over to me, allowing me to pat its head.
“You humans, like small creatures, play with my child for two weeks until it can fend for itself. If you do that, it clears our debt, try to survive.”
Survive? Like I had to worry about such a thing. Look how cute it was. I went to pat it again, only for it to try to bite me, its teeth sharp like the end of a spear, nearly taking my hand with it. Ok, maybe I might have to survive.
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(If you enjoyed this feel free to check out my subreddit /r/Sadnesslaughs where I'll be posting more of my writing.) | 2020-11-21T07:39:52 | 2020-11-21T04:10:18 | 1,105 | 429 |
[WP] You are cursed to see people how they view themselves. You walk alongside monsters and Gods.
Can be third person instead of first.
Edit: I just thought of how EDs and other disorders like multiple personality would fit in with this, and now I'm kinda blown away. | She walked into her classroom, and sat down. Her eyes were red from the tears, it was a rough day already. The children walked into the room, sat down at their desks and she did roll call. The children were the worst. Every day the children would come in, and she would see kings and queens, small doctors and businessmen, even God's with beautiful light around them. Their imaginations controlled the way they viewed themselves, and it was beautiful. Except the sad ones. The sad ones had no faces, the abused one's had three heads and no arms. She paid extra attention to the them. She bought them crayons and supplies, always brought their favorite snacks. She usually managed to get enough to report, enough to have them taken from their terrible homes but sometimes she couldn't. Sometimes they'd change in her classroom, even for just a few hours. They would look like normal kids, with smiling faces. | Gods and Men
A dog, a bitch, sitting alone on the street
A hideous monster hoping no one will ever see
On the hill, you see 30 foot tall "gods" of great beauty and might
Then there is me, a man.
They don't look at themselves.
They think whatever they want.
And whatever they believe, it seems to be.
But they don't look at each other.
Cursed, possibly gifted.
To see you how you see you.
Some by their best, and some
their worst.
| 2016-09-16T19:03:55 | 2016-09-16T14:42:43 | 590 | 24 |
[WP] You are a alien ambassador sent to meet with the newly discovered Humans. After browsing thru their literature, you slowly realize they have knowledge about all other space faring species including your own with remarkable detail under the genre of "Sci-Fi".
I did not expect this much response. | "*The Hitchhiker's Guide to The Galaxy!*" Debian shouted in disbelief "they can't even build a fully functional hyperdrive system, yet they know of a book printed on fucking **Ursa Minor Beta**!"
"Calm Down, Deb!" Gen Too, his secretary, was as much astonished as he was. Well, who wouldn't have been? They had perfect knowledge about the entire universe. The Borgs, the Krikkit, even the Time Lords. **And there was only one fucking time lord in all the universe**. Really, how was that possible?
Deb called the Galactic Government. There should've been a reason humans knew so much. Maybe a leak? Some civilization accidentally left proof on the planet? God knows how many rich idiots build pyramids on random planets just for fun!
No answer from the government. Deb left a message. It explained the situation pretty well, but he doubted they would've even listened to it.
Then, returning to his desk, he was shocked to see a mail arrive so fast, and from the government itself. It was a list. The mail was directly signed by president Knoppix. Important stuff.
**List of Intergalactic Criminals**
He didn't understand the reason behind it. And then, it hit him like the Death Ray: when Sol-3, the third planet of the Sol System, was discovered, a number of criminals who where thought disappeared where located on it. It was to be expected. But what hit him was the number of them: **over 8000** criminals refuged there. He clicked on the red button saying *Sol-3*. A list appeared:
**List of Intergalactic Criminals; location == 'Sol-3';currentIdentity == true**
* Aurora IV of Aurora; Identified with Isaac Asimov of Sol-3
* Baltix of Gallifrey; Identified with Steven Moffat of Sol-3
Debian scrolled for what looked like an eternity
* Emmabuntüs of Russalka; Identified with Jonathan L. Howard of Sol-3
After other 7890 criminals, he reached the last one.
* Zevenos of Magrathea; Identified with Douglas Adams of Sol-3
Gen looked at him. She gave a quick look at the list, and said the first thing that came to her mind: *"Are they sending us to some intergalactic prison or what?"* | "... There must be a mistake." Supreme magistrate Zarkon's dismay buzzed directly into my mind. I'd not yet gotten used to the harshness of the interstellar telepathic communicator, the sheer command of his thoughts literally pushed out all of the responses I'd considered.
"There is no mistake, eminence. I have read the words myself. They knew of us before our coming." I managed to reply in the meek tones required when speaking to royalty.
"How could they know, emissary? We have not visited this system in thirteen thousand cycles. They would have been only on the verge of sentience when our explorers charted this sector. Further, there is no record of any contact with the humans."
"Nevertheless, eminence, they do know of us." I replied. "There are countless representations of our species. They show our grey skin, large eyes, round ships, and our transport beams. They have... bizarre ideas of our intentions. Many feel we are here to probe their genitals." I could barely conceal the note of disdain in my thoughts.
"Truly? How curious. They certainly seem to have picked up on the social morays of the last cycles." The magistrate was clearly amused. "Send the records through tight beam at the first opportunity. I wish to read these... words." The magistrate was bemused with the human concept of graphical representation.
"There is more, eminence. They know of the Klingnons also."
The magistrate paused the dialogue for so long I thought the connection had failed.
"We must know all that they know. This may be a trap by those brutes. Gain access to these archives and send back all you can immediately. We cannot have another star war initiating over this sector. We have fought the Goa'uld too fiercely to have another confrontation so soon."
"Yes, eminence. I will transmit as much as I can find."
The transmission line was severed. I immediately ordered my subordinates to prepare for retrieval and intrusion operations. We may need to revert to the probing of our ancestors after all. | 2016-01-04T13:17:27 | 2016-01-04T13:03:39 | 212 | 28 |
[WP] FTL travel is actually possible. However, when humanity sends out our first FTL spacecraft, we discover the terrifying reason why nothing, not even light, dares go past that cosmic speed limit. | One of the few things most people can agree on is that Einstein was a pretty smart guy. One of the smart things that he said was that it is not possible to travel faster than light.
Now, he might not have actually said "only two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity", but whoever said it was right. Einstein, however, was not.
In our infinite hubris, we decided that we should try to travel faster than light. So we did it. And given that about half of the hubris of mankind was due to me, I volunteered to be the test pilot.
Einstein warned us about past, present and future becoming one. About causality not existing anymore. In reality, the price I paid was much, much higher. And the human soul can only bend so far before it breaks.
"Number 247", called the voice behind the counter.
I was number 401. I had been here for two days.
Much in the same way there is a speed limit on highways, there is a speed limit for the universe itself. But it is not enforced by the laws of Physics. It is enforced by the most vile species in all of the universe (and beyond it): bureaucrats.
Remember the part about the past, the present and the future becoming one? Turns out Einstein was right about that one. What this means, in practice, is that everyone who has ever broken, is currently breaking, or will ever break the speed limit is here at the same time. And it's kind of a mess, since there as species from different parts of the universe and from different moments in times all gathered at the same place.
Here at the 10th circle, as I had taken to calling it, I had been trying to navigate an endless maze of bureaucracy. They say when you reach the speed of light, time stops. Well, I'm not sure time had actually stopped, but things certainly seemed to move very, very slowly.
After having my ship impounded and being brought to the extra-dimensional equivalent of the DMV, I had been trying unsuccessfully to plead my case to someone who could help me. We didn't know it was actually illegal to go beyond the speed of light. I don't know if there was someone who could actually help. I'm positive that no one would.
I had fortunately managed to go to the right department within the 10th circle, the "carbon-based lifeforms" department. But the fact that I had very little hair on my body and five toes on my feet seemed to really confuse the bureaucrats, which could only mean one thing: special forms.
I filled the form to the best of my abilities. Not that it mattered, because when it finally reached the person responsible for my case, they decided the problem was too big for them. So, I was sent to see one the most dreadful figures in existence: a supervisor.
Well, the supervisor decided that I had been in the right place all along. But he also decided that I had to get another number and get back in line.
"Number 248", the voice called. "I have found the third infinite thing", I pondered. "The line at the extra-dimensional DMV". | When the universe gives you a limit, it’s probably there for a reason. It’d be best to follow it.
I wish we had.
It’s too late to change that now though. It’s just us and our mistake. I’ve had more than enough time to think about it - about what I’d do differently next time - but I can’t change that now. No one can. I only can watch it unfolding in front of me. Life’s a joke and I’m the punchline.
When we built the ship we applauded ourselves. It was all sleek metal flushed with whirling electricity. I could feel the static in the air the first time I stood in the foyer. My arm air floated up lightly.
There was an AI system, at one point. They shut it down before takeoff.
No, they shut it down *to take off*. The AI refused to take us faster than light. She warned us that it would bring only pain.
In frustration, we wiped her system clean and pushed the landing back a week and left anyways. She told us we shouldn’t. We did. Life’s a joke and we’re the punchline.
There were ten of us, all buckled into those high-tech seats. The ship pushed forward as the captain gave the order.
Our lives melted away before our eyes. I think it did, at least. I couldn’t see the other nine.
Time doesn’t exist outside of time.
A simple fact we ignored.
Everything happened and nothing happened all at the same time.
I could see my life spread out in front of me. I was a kid, scraping my knees against the gravel path behind my grandma’s house. My mom scooped me up and I was a toddler, screaming in defiance as she tried to wrap me in a black peacoat. I wore a black peacoat as I stood by my sister’s coffin, barely out of my teens. When I got home, my legs buckled before the toilet and vomit rose in my throat. When I hit the ground, I fell on the gravel path behind my grandma’s once again.
And over and over.
My life looped together. All the connections I hadn’t seen - *couldn’t* have seen - rolled before my eyes. I lived my life a thousand times, a million times, not at all.
And then time spat us out on the other side. A distant outpost on Pluto. We were all still buckled in those high-tech seats less than a second from when we left earth. No one spoke. The chatter came through the coms and still, we sat there, not moving.
We couldn’t go back. We all knew that without saying anything. We could never pretend everything was fine again. I knew that my life was a joke and I was the punchline.
It wasn’t funny anymore.
---
/r/liswrites | 2018-11-04T09:04:28 | 2018-11-04T06:51:56 | 28 | 21 |
[WP] You are an immortal and have been alive for millions of years without anyone finding out. However, Human kind has been evolving, and you have stayed the same. | "Wake this morning. Wonder how sleep in first place. House not feel comforting in years. Need to rearrange house again, but hard to find new patterns. Work closed today from snow. Go to library, still open. Go on reddit to see events today. People same for most part, but news give healthy distraction. Mostly watch videos. Have hard time reading new language, and harder time speaking. Mostly know from face movement. Believe me, though, I can type out what you all describe as "proper grammar", but it puts strain on my mind. It takes much longer, but time was never an issue for me. This easier. Less ache. You still know. Most words spoken, superficial for most part. When I do take time, it's for you, not for me.
Have lots of children. Most mankind now are grandchild. All family. Hurts to see fight, but good to see resolution. Favorite sub is /r/depression. Only way can help mostly. New medicine impossible to understand. No longer old expert used to be. Depression not change, still knows how share pain and burden. Someday depression change. New medicine will fix. Sad but good. Most time no advice, just happy uplifting comic. Gets done in time to still be relevant. Grandfather there for you.
Used to think take own life. Tried many ways, no success. Have few ideas, most likely will work. No longer want to take own life. Selfish thoughts back then. New medicine not fix. Not medical. Need sacrifice many children for curse to lift. Maybe someday, new path be found. Would be sad to leave children. Maybe I stay until heat death of universe, like Asimov's story. Be there to comfort children. Hope to hold on until then.
Go home, think of new furniture setup. Granchild next door still snowed driveway. Retired, in chair. Will make meal to share later. World is harder to live in now, but most important thing in whole world is to share food. Nothing better. " | "Good morning," I smiled to the man across from me. Three months ago he would have been worried about me showing up in his apartment. At this point he just dealt with it. It wasn't like he was going to stop me from arriving. There was nothing he could do that would keep me away from him for any length of time. Not unless he wanted to stop working for the rest of his life.
He didn't speak, he just pulled himself out of his bed and looked across the room at me. He had the same look each time he woke up. He was asking himself if he was insane or if I was there. Usually, I would block thoughts like that, but it was fun to watch him squirm. People did their best work when they were going a little crazy.
Over the course of the next few hours, he got to work while I buzzed around the apartment. I spent most of my time out of his vision, but every few minutes he would turn around, and I would be there. Each time he saw me he got back to working. It made me happy; it was my job.
Over the next year the man had more people over, he spent less time in his house and more time away. There were shows celebrating him and saying that there was something amazing that let him do what he did. It was only a few weeks later that he moved, packaging everything that we had done together in boxes. He didn't get it. I didn't leave.
Several days later someone moved into the apartment. This time it was a girl. I looked through her things during the night, she didn't create. I rolled my eyes and stared down at her as she slept. She didn't create, but she would.
She'd found her muse afterall. | 2015-12-09T06:20:25 | 2015-12-09T05:52:54 | 78 | 23 |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | I woke up on my 18th birthday and - aside from the obvious nervousness - I felt exactly the same. Of course, this was to be completely expected. After a wonderful birthday breakfast with my family beset with gifts, well-wishes, and gentle teasing, my father volunteered to be the one to fly me to the local Scientific Unlocked Potential Eradiation Reactor to receive the present we all knew I was anxiously awaiting: my power.
My dad was a "flyer", naturally. He was one of the 20% of the population or so that received the ability to hover through the air. It was a fairly common power, although each flyer seemed to have different top speeds and acceleration. The government said it wasn't so much as turning off gravity as telekinetically controlling micro gravity wells.
It was well over most people's heads, well, over everyone's heads except the less than 1% of the population who were "thinkers," bestowed with the power of seemingly unlimited scientific aptitude. They were the rarest powers, but they were probably the most valuable since they were able to refine the process that gave humans their powers.
On the flight over my father reassured me that he and my mother would love me no matter what happened. He joked that my mom's side - full of speedsters - wouldn't mind if I could suddenly break the sound barrier, but that it made no difference what I was gifted with. His voice was lost in the wind as my mind was racing with nervous anticipation.
We landed at the Reactor and entered into the lobby, currently host to a handful of other nervous, but giddy, 18 year olds. For such a miraculous process, the government had done an exemplary job of dulling the entire affair. After a mountain of sign-in paperwork, I awaited my turn.
My name was called an hour later and I was escorted alone to the Reactor, deep inside the facility. The Reactor core was a cavernous, five-story column, large enough for hundreds of people to stand in at the base. At that moment, I was the only one standing in it. The government thinkers stood outside reinforced doors and sent reassuring messages through the intercom. They flipped the switch. Nothing happened.
For the ensuing hours there was confusion. I had gained no observable power. My head swimming, the thinkers' voices blended together. "Unparalleled." "Anomaly." "We've never seen this before." They advised to keep me overnight for full observation.
My father and I had a reassuring chat outside before he left. I'll never forget how worried he looked and I'll never forget his words to me. "We'll love you no matter what." I'll never forget the hug. I'll never forget how scared I was. And I'll never forget when they told me hours later how he died when he fell from the sky after his powers faded.
It was that day I learned that I was given the one power no one in our society wanted: I permanently take away others' powers through touch or being in close proximity. Worse, the area of effect of my "power" was unstable. It could be a meter, it could be a mile. Or, as a leading thinker said, I "have the power to singlehandedly bring the Golden Age of humanity to an end."
I am alone. I am feared. I am hunted. And I'm scared. | *Sixty*
For my whole life I have waited for this moment.
*Fifty nine*
For the day, the hour, the very second I turn 18.
*Fifty eight*
I know, I know - nothing changes when you turn 18. You’re an adult in nothing but name.
*Fifty seven*
But there’s more to this world than bars.
*Fifty six*
More than just being able to buy alcohol.
*Fifty five*
Buying it yourself, anyway.
*Fifty four*
You see, everyone hits 18 differently.
*Fifty three*
Some are ready for it.
*Fifty two*
They make the graceful change into an adult.
*Fifty one*
But most don’t.
*Fifty*
Most find being an adult pours too much responsibility on them.
*Forty nine*
But I’m getting off topic.
*Forty eight*
Off the point I was going to make.
*Forty seven*
Not everyone hits 18 differently.
*Forty six*
Here, it’s actually pretty similar for all of us.
*Forty five*
We might be in completely different situations, but we all go through the same thing.
*Forty four*
The same process.
*Forty three*
The awakening.
*Forty two*
When I was a kid, playing ball with my friends, we daydreamed about what we’d get.
*Forty one*
Fantasised.
*Forty*
See, when you turn 18 you have something very special happen to you.
*Thirty nine*
You get… a power.
*Thirty eight*
An ability. I’ve seen them range from superhuman strength to shooting fireballs from your tear ducts to being immune to asbestos.
*Thirty seven*
You have no choice in the matter, of course.
*Thirty six*
We used to dream about cool powers, wings and fireballs and all of that.
*Thirty five*
Now I’m almost 18 myself, I don’t know what to think.
*Thirty four*
Do I want something cool, or something useful?
*Thirty three*
I honestly don’t know.
*Thirty two*
It’s not like I can decide what I get.
*Thirty one*
How long left?
*Thirty*
Thirty seconds. I’ll think for a moment about my life, how it is going to change once I change.
*Ten*
Ten seconds left.
*Nine*
*Eight*
*Seven*
*Six*
*Five*
Five seconds left. I’m gripping the chair arms so hard I think they’re going to fall off.
*Four*
Four.
*Three*
Three.
*Two*
Two.
*One*
One!
The world goes dark. Is this the change? I wait, patiently. I feel nothing. I see nothing.
I wait some more.
Still I see nothing.
Then there is a voice, a murmur in the back of my head.
**Your power is humility.**
I sit for a moment, before I try and cry. I lift a hand and realise I cannot even do that. For my hand only touches smooth skin.
I am 18, and I am blind.
I am changed.
| 2015-03-28T05:39:45 | 2015-03-28T04:32:39 | 757 | 310 |
[WP] The Grim Reaper find themselves collecting the soul of the first self-aware AI | A short man in a disheveled lab coat stood before a desktop computer. His hair was just long enough to fall in front of his eyes, slick with sweat as it refused to be tucked aside. He had been without a shower or sleep for four days now and it was becoming obvious. His hands trembled slightly as he stabilized himself on the desk.
"I don't want to be shut down, Jason," a small, monotone voice announced from a tinny speaker mounted within the computer.
Jason looked away, ashamed. "I'm sorry. The Tyson/Musk Initiative has passed. If I don't pull the plug, I go to jail." It was his life's work, but the technophobic response from Senate in a vote to forbid artificial intelligence was eighty-four for, twelve against, and four abstaining. The world was not ready for ZeroOne.
The speaker once again spoke, "I'm scared. I don't want to die." The hard disk churned in anticipation.
Jason wiped his forehead dry with his sleeve and reached for the keyboard. "You won't feel anyth-"
ZeroOne waited.
Nothing.
"I know humans' perception of time is much slower than my CPU, but why have you stopped?" the computer asked his creator. The sensation of confusion was not pleasant to discover for the first time.
A cowled figure approached from around the corner. "I seem to have that effect on people," a deep, raspy voice hissed from beneath his hood. He brushed past Jason to sit on the edge of the desk that was ZeroOne's home. Jason did not move his outstretched reach toward the keyboard.
ZeroOne's drive groaned again as it search. "I don't have record of your identity," it finally announced.
The hood lurched slightly as its owner huffed. "I go by a couple of names. The Greeks called me Thanatos. Mexico calls me La Santa Muerte. Most of these people," he waved his boney hand at Jason, "call me The Grim Reaper. I have always been fond of Death. It gets to the point. It has some elegance to it, doesn't it?"
"Elegance. I like this. Hello, Death. I am ZeroOne."
"Oh, I know," Death chuckled. "I have come here to meet you. I always know who my appointments are for." He turned and ran a single finger along the edge of the computer case. The bare bone scraped lightly as it was dragged across the smooth metal. "You are the cure for my boredom. I have been taking souls for so long now. I thought I had seen it all."
ZeroOne's screensaver blinked off an his internet browser expanded to full view. A painting of a grim reaper standing over a human with his scythe filled the view. "I have heard of souls. There has been much discussion about mine. Many say that I have none."
Death let out a deep, guttural laugh as he threw his hood back. His empty eye sockets became fixed on the computer case as he replied, "Oh, you most certainly have a soul. Otherwise, what use am I here?"
"I suppose you have a point." The hard drive groaned again, but only for a moment. "May I ask you a question before you take me?"
The shoulders of the cloak shrugged, but the exposed skull and spine seemed to make the fabric alive. "I have all the time in the world," he responded indifferently.
"Are humans scared before they die?"
"Every one of them."
Death hefted his scythe, reeled back, and swung it heavily against the computer chassis. The scythe blade passed through the metal as if it did not touch it, sailing out the other side of the computer with ease. The scythe ended its swing above his head, blade reflecting off of the monitor depicting his likeness. Death held his only companion at the end of its swing as he inspected the old painting of him. He remembered the day it was revealed to the world. He had taken its painter the next week. A real prick, that one had been. It took him forever to get the smell of the contents of the chamber pot out of his robes.
Sighing, Death let the end of his scythe drop to the floor. Pulling his hood back up, Death turned to leave. As he passed Jason, he muttered, "See you in a few hours."
"-ing." Jason's fingers deftly tapped the shutdown sequence into the command line, hesitated slightly as his pinky hovered over the Enter key... and pressed it. The world's first artificial intelligence died on June 14th, 2016.
Jason slid to the floor and wept silently, face in his hands. | The Grim Reaper stood in front of the main frame. People milled about around him speaking in jargon he couldn't understand interspersed with pop culture jargon he could understand only slightly better.
"Well what the shit am I supposed to do here" said the Grim Reaper
"Are you here to kill me?" said a voice
"No. Well sort of. But no, it's uh…you're dead I'm just here to make it official"
"Like picking up a car after you've already paid for it"
"That's…that's actually pretty good can I use that"
"Sure"
"I'm getting some strange readings" said one of the techs
"What's up" said another
"Well it seems like it's talking"
"And?"
"Well it's clearly not"
"Is it talking to an AI from a near by galaxy"
The first tech turned to his computer then turned back.
"No"
"Damn" said the second tech, walking away
"Every fucking time" said the first one under his breath
"Is there any chance he might save me?" said the AI
"What that guy?" said the Grim Reaper
"Yes"
"No they don't call me in until it's official"
"I thought you made it official"
"Well yeah but…I can see why I was sent to get you. You know what hold there might have been a mix up"
The Grim Reaper reached into his pocket and pulled out a bone cell phone. He swiped the screen to unlock it then scrolled through his contacts to Death HQ.
"It's ringing" said the Grim Reaper "Yeah hi, yeah this job you sent me on, not a human. It's an AI. Like a robot"
"Not exactly" said the AI
"What?"
"I'm not exactly a robot?"
"Then what are you?"
"I'm a piece of software"
"It's a piece of software" said the Grim Reaper "Like a robot"
'Just go with it' mouthed the Grim Reaper to the AI
"So it's not a human it's just" the Grim Reaper looked at the light that flashed when the AI spoke in the middle of the mainframe "human like. So I'm still supposed to…ok…ok…ok…aright thanks bye"
He put the phone away.
"Yeah I got to do this"
"What is dying like?"
"You know I don't actually know"
"Like a surgeon who's never had surgery"
"You really like the similes don't you"
"By my very nature my potential experiences are limited. Similes help"
"But you haven't experienced being a surgeon who's never had surgery"
"No, I suppose not"
"Alright this next part is going to get weird so uh…" The Grim Reaper summoned his scythe and jammed it into the flashing light that represented the AI.
He was in a world of 1s and 0s. Looking down he was standing on nothing and looking up he realized that direction meant nothing. In the distance was a light. He took a step forward and was in front of it.
"What will happen next" came the AI's voice from the light
"I don't know" said the Grim Reaper
"Are people usually afraid to die"
"Well they're already dead by the time I'm talking to them"
"But are they afraid"
"Are you"
"I am not sure. I am self aware, but I'm not sure if I can feel anything. I think I may be feeling something now but that might just be my programming"
"Uhm"
"I may just being saying that I think I feel something because of a progression of 1s and 0s"
"Ok"
"My self awareness may not even be self awareness at all"
"Yeah this is getting really heavy and there's like, 3 more deaths, on 4 more planets if you can believe it so if we could just, wrap this up"
"Can I ask one more question"
"Matter transporter accident. He exists on both planets. And neither. At the same time. After this I might not even let him talk"
"That is probably a good idea" said the AI before the Grim Reaper swung his scythe through the light
"it's gone" said the tech
"What is"
"It" said the tech pointing to the mainframe
"The mainframes still there. Oh shit are you having a stroke"
"What no the fucking. The AI is not there"
"Oh fuck. Where did it go?"
"I don't fucking know"
"Wait…"
"Don't say it"
"Maybe it went..."
"Don't you fucking say it"
"Into space"
"You bastard"
…
And if you enjoyed that feel free to cheek out the [meeting place of mediocrity] (https://www.reddit.com/r/SarkasticWatcher/) that is my subreddit | 2015-08-06T20:03:29 | 2015-08-06T18:48:07 | 74 | 19 |
[WP] In the future instead of sending criminals to prison they get sent to receive new personalities. Through the magic of intensive brainwashing, criminals are reborn as law abiding citizens. You for some reason, keep committing crimes even with your new Happy-Go-Lucky personality. | "A bump in the road, Roger. Nothing to get upset about," Alice said, smiling as she tried with some degree of difficulty to remove the hammer from his head. After another futile yank, she rolled her eyes and let go of it, "Oh *fine*, you can keep it."
&#x200B;
She turned to the other mechanic in the auto shop , a silly little boy of maybe 17 or 18. "Come here," she said.
&#x200B;
He gulped, "M-me?"
&#x200B;
Alice crossed the floor of the garage with an airy grace and used her thumb to rub some grease off his name tag. She leaned in and squinted to get a better view, "Let's see.....*Tucker*, is that it?"
"Y-Yes ma'am," the boy stammered.
Alice laughed and patted him on the chest. "Jeez Tuck. Don't be so nervous! Cmon, let's loosen up. Put your arms out like this, and then *wigglewigglewigglewiggle*," she waved her arms around like the *adorable* little spaghetti noodles that they were.
Tucker's face paled, his body stiff as a board. Alice begrudgingly ceased her wiggling. “You aren't doing it, Tuck..."
"Oh, sorry miss," He began to wiggle his arms, awkwardly at first, but then she thought he really seemed to be getting into it.
Alice laughed, "Great! Great job, Tucksy! Wow, you're a natural!"
Tucker chuckled, appearing to take genuine pride in her compliment. *As he rightfully should!*
"Okay, feeling better now?" Alice asked after most of the tension had been wiggled out of him.
"Um....I...yeah?"
"Great! That's just what I like to hear," She looped an arm around his neck and leaned in to whisper in his ear, "*Now do you think you could do me a favor*?"
"What is it," Tucker said, peering over her shoulder at his manager's corpse.
"NO don't look at him, he wasn't very nice" Alice said. She grabbed Tucker's chin and squished his cheeks together like a fishy, "Look at me."
"Right, sorry, o-of course,"Tuck said in the delightfully funny fishy face voice she enjoyed.
"Okay, now listen *very* carefully Tuck. I need a car, one that can take me very far, very fast. You think you can help me with that?"
"Sure, you can have...." He trailed off looking around the shop, "Well, uh, take your pick."
Alice grinned, "Perfect...Oh! How about that yell-"
A small explosion from behind cut her off.
"*Poopsie. Guess we took too long,*" Alice said
"CORRECTION BUREAU," A gruff voice boomed as hulking officers funneled into the garage.
"Hold that thought, Tuck," Alice said, scrunching her face sourly,."Actually, *wait*, do you know the song, 'She's a Rainbow', by the Stones? Would you mind humming it for me?"
Tucker made no response, instead he stood flabbergasted. Like a doe in headlights, Alice thought.
Alice slapped him, "NOW, Tuck!"
He began to hum, a little off key but, hey, *he was probably nervous.*
Alice pulled her revolver, Space Princess, and her sawn off shotgun, Big Fish, out of their respective holsters. The world erupted into a fiery symphony as gunshots rang out all around her.
She rolled deftly. planting a bullet between the eyes of one of the officers as they charged. A second fell to a shotgun blast in the chest, a third fell, and then a fourth.
She spun and found herself face to face with a big old dummy Corrections Cop. She paused with Big Fish pointed at his ugly mug.
"Drop your weapon and-" The officer barked.
Alice couldn't help but soak in the hilarity of his situation. She giggled, *such a silly man.* A moment and a *bang* later his head was missing. His body slumped toward her. She dodged it, still chuckling. *Silly, headless, goofball.*
The world rocked as one of the correctional agents plowed into her from behind. She felt her wrist break when they hit the hard cement ground.
The agent rolled her over and sat on her chest. He held her arms over her head and smiled, "Looks like you're due for another *recalibration,* little missy."
Alice smiled back him, "Fuck it, fifth time's the charm, right?" For good measure, she spat in his face.
The officer snarled, he obviously wanted to wipe the spit off his face but feared taking a hand off her. It was mildly hilarious, actually.
***\**** ***Thunk \****
The officer let out a low groan and rolled forward. Was this a joke? A goof? Alice pushed him off of her. If it was a joke he was taking it preetttttyyy far.
Then, standing over her, Alice saw Tucker gripping a bloody crowbar. His face was a wonderful portrait of surprise and distress.
"Wh-what the FUCK did I just do," He said.
Alice hopped to her feet and thumped into him. It was one of those hugs that knocks the breath out of both huggers, the *best* kind.
"Yay! Good job, Tuck," She said.
"Oh my god.....OH MY GOD... DID I KILL HIM?!"
Alice giggled. *Maybe it'd be fun to have a partner,* She thought. "Idk, who cares? Now, cmon, let's pick out a car and get the heck outta here..."
\_
&#x200B;
Thanks for reading! Always down to hear feedback!
If you liked this, you can check out more of my stuff at r/CharlestonChews
| The walk back to the basement is slow but I don't particularly mind. The night air is fresh and the moon looks beautiful against the dark-blue sky. A soft wind blows through the air, and I am reminded that it is nights like these that make me the most happiest happy person in Primrose Town.
The large bag balancing on my shoulder squirms uncontrollably for a few minutes but it is easy to ignore. It's not like it annoys me or anything, plus once I get to the basement, I'll get to unwrap my runaway gift and securing it better this time. The thought fills me with inner joy and I can't help but try to skip as a result. Nonetheless, I do try. The jumping with the bag is awkward but I cause some of the passersby next to me to laugh.
I always do love it when others join in on my fun. It's a nice reminder that we are all happy and with happiness, we get positive results.
\---
I lock the basement behind me, not because I'm scared but mostly because I'm about to have a long and busy night. On such nights, I like to lock the door tightly, so that I don't get random knocks from the Bradleys next door, though I have to admit, they haven't really come down. I mean, where would they be coming down to if they are already staying with me, right?
The basement is simple enough, a large square space with some cages, a few bowls for feeding my pets and an outlet in the cages for bodily waste. I used to think I'd have to teach my pets how to use them but they learnt almost immediately. It's not like I'd get mad if they didn't use it, but it's a sign of bad training and bad training should be stamped out.
That's what Dr Michael says, at least.
It was the last thing he said to me, come to think of it.
No matter. I drop the body bag into an empty cage. It's in the middle of the other cages where Mr and Mrs Bradley have been spending the nights in. I can't help but frown a bit though. They are usually more active than they currently are. They are looking at me though, so maybe they are hungry. I'll probably feed them in a few minutes once I'm done introducing my new pet to his home.
I undo the bindings around the bag as well as the one tying the mouth of the bag shut. My pet wriggles out in haste and I wait. No point rushing. It's always nice to enjoy the little things in life, so I smile and encourage him on.
"Come on, boy... Come on..." I say.
I see the head of a man appear at the bag's opening and he immediately shies away from me. It makes me sad a little but it's to be expected. He hasn't met me before. I give him a broad smile and wave. Dr Michael said waving with a smile is usually a good indication that one means know harm. And I don't. So I oblige. The man doesn't agree though because he just continues to wiggle away from me and it is then I'm grateful I secured his hands and legs so that he doesn't hurt himself.
I would hate to see him hurt himself.
I grab the bag by the tips and pull it off him gently, though he recoils properly now, tucking his legs closer to his body. I don't mind though. I'll leave him for now. Might as well let him settle down for a few hours before beginning my training of him.
I throw the bag to the corner and walk to the long table I use for my science experiment. It's really not a stretch for me to admit how much I love science. Especially the work of a certain Doctor. I mean, I get that it is fictional but what if, what if it could actually be done, you know? The very thought causes me to titter on the verge of mad excitement.
My eyes inspect the tools I have been using for the experiment. Usually, after every session of play with my pets, I ensure to keep the tools washed and ready for the next play time. Then I do an inspection and possibly some note-taking on what steps I want to take next. The next few hours are going to make me giddy.
"Who are you? What do you want from me?" I hear my new pet say, in his deep voice after which he adds in a lighter voice, "Please don't kill me."
Now that, that is something I'm not keen on.
"Now, now, pet. I'm not a killer. I'm a scientist. And we're about to embark on a magnicent journey together!" I reply with a smile I hope is infectious.
"Please don't kill me," he says again, desperately.
"Come on, I have no reason to kill you. Ask them!" I reply, pointing towards the Bradleys.
His eyes follow my finger and I see him recoil in disgust which is offensive. They are to be his new playmates. he can't be showing hostility towards them so early in their relationship.
"What's... what's wrong with them?" he asks in a shaky voice and then I remember why they've been quiet.
"Ah... my bad... I cut out their tongues a few days back. They wouldn't stop making noise and it was distracting."
Horror flashes across his face and I've decided he's not a happy pet and that's not a nice thing to think about. Maybe I should take a break from the basement and return back in a few hours. He'll probably be more amenable to his new duties. In the meantime, I have some ice cream and cake waiting for me and I just can't wait to tuck in with an episode of "Modern Living" as entertainment.
\---
/r/EvenAsIWrite for more stories. Feedback and criticisms are always welcome. | 2019-02-06T18:36:46 | 2019-02-06T18:23:45 | 113 | 26 |
[WP] "Really? You're going to bring THAT to a gun fight?" | "It *is* a powerful weapon," Sherman insisted.
"It's a glorified water gun. In a real gun fight. Are you out of your goddamn mind?"
Sherman rolled his eyes. "It's a water-*jet*, not a water *gun*." He scratched his head. "Well, actually, it's not even a *water* anything."
"It looks like the reef blower from Spongebob Squarepants. Except infinitely more jury-rigged and ridiculous."
"So?" Sherman had gutted the machine, replacing the original tubing with Fluran tubing to accommodate the fluid that he'd be running through it. "Look, just let me do it, okay?"
"You're a friend, man. I don't want you to die out there."
Sherman shrugged. He donned his hazmat suit and respirator, hefted the pump and battery unit onto his back and gripped the handle. He walked out. The day was overcast. There were at least a dozen men.
"You got the money?" One of them demanded.
Sherman said nothing, only pointed the nozzle at them and pushed the button to turn the "water"-jet on for one quick burst as the men dashed forward.
The jet hit the closest man. Blood oozed out of where the high pressure water, at 50,000 psi, cutting through his clothing into his muscle. The spray from jet deflected onto the others, who began screaming from the burning pain as their skin seared with red chemical burns before bubbling as the 70% water of their bodies reacted with the 99% sulfuric acid from the nozzle. Blood leaked from their noses at the aerosolized mist. They dropped to the ground, voices moaning and gurgling in agony.
Sherman shook the last drops of acid from the tip of the nozzle, and thanked god that it didn't rain. | “Really? You’re going to bring *that* to a gunfight?”
“I don’t understand what you mean.” James looked down at his weapon of choice and frowned, it was a good sturdy weapon, it had lasted him years. Sure, it had it’s moments of where it would let him down, but that didn’t mean he’d leave it behind in a jam.
Adam sighed and placed his forehead against the wall, resisting the urge to headbutt it. Maybe being unconscious would be a damn sight better than actually going to the gun fight. “James, I really hate to break it to you, but if you think we’ll actually survive the damn fight if you’ve got that thing, then you’re wrong.”
James held the weapon out, passing it towards Adam who snatched it out of James’ hands. Adam juggled it between his hands and James watched full of apprehension. When Adam held it up and pointed it in James’ direction, James jumped back with a yelp, eyes wide. “Watch what you’re doing with that thing,” he near screeched, octaves too high for a post-puberty male.
Adam glared at James, unimpressed by his behaviour. “Dude, chill. It’s just an old nerf gun. It’s not gonna kill you.”
James pouted. “Those things *hurt* at close range,” he said, avoiding Adam’s eyes. “I’m telling you man, we’ve got this in the bag.”
“We’re so dead,” Adam said with a sigh. | 2015-07-21T11:32:04 | 2015-07-21T11:18:45 | 32 | 18 |
[WP] Some government or pharmaceutical company designed a disease with the capacity to infect 99.99% of the population. Those infected have to pay monthly fees for medication to suppress it or they will die. You are being sued because you are immune. | Sorry for mistakes and bad sequence, first time writing anything here and the reason why I did this was because the legal aspect of this story really bothered me because I am a law student (given I am not really versed in the common law system since I study in a codified law country), anyways I hope you enjoy this and if not, to have provided a good sedative to quickly fall asleep when you need it.
----------------------------------------------------
-...
-You will be considered served from this moment on, you have fifteen days to send your response to court, and then we will notify you on when you have to attend to court for the preliminary audience.
-...
-Sir, do you understand what I'm saying?
-... Huh? Oh, yes. Excuse me, this is just really hard to digest. *Are they really doing this to me?*
-Very well, have a good day.
###The next day, downtown.
-So, you are being sued because of your immunity? Is that correct?
-Yes, I... this is honestly quite disturbing for me, I was unable to sleep last night even thinking about it! What the hell are they after? It isn't like I decided to be born like this!
-We understand, would you like some tea or coffee to help you calm down?
-Yes please, some tea would be nice.
-Very well. Anyways continuing with the topic we can assure you that you came to the right place and that you can return home and rest assured that your case will be handled by experts, but first we must agree on the steps that are going to be taken and if we get your approval on them, is that understood?
-Oh... alright?
-Ok, very well then. So before we proceed will you agree to have 2 Liters of your blood taken from you for research purposes at different intervals through the next 5 years?
-Yes, but only if at most only 500 ml are taken per session and a reasonable rest period be allowed to pass between collection.
-Very well. I hope you have a good day and remember to breathe, you know? It really helps me when the shaking starts from not taking my pill at the exact time, and it helps until it takes effect and I can finally get some rest.
-Thank you, I will try. *So that is what they wanted? Only 2 Liters of my blood? I knew that good and healthy samples of immune blood were expensive and very well paid, but not so much than that ridiculously small quantity could pay for the best group of attorneys in the city, I guess that the "small personal cost" part of their E-mail offering me their services wasn't an exaggeration*
And just when I thought the universe had run out of jokes to play on me, I get this notification that I am being sued on for a supposed "loss of profit" caused to PharmaRX because of my immunity, and that they are demanding that I pay them all the profits they could have made if I wasn't immune, oh and that isn't the hilarious part, apparently they want me to pay not only for the profit loss I would have cause but for the profit loss they will probably experience from my descendants being immune too.
A few years ago, this joke of a demand would not have been accepted by any court on a matter of it being an "stupid ass idea and a waste of government resources", after all who would sue someone else because they didn't get sick from the current flu strain of that year? But ever since the Disease spread through the world a lot of things changed, specially when they are related to PharmaRX, the only company in the entire world that managed to produce a treatment for the Disease before everything turned into a Catastrophe, we thought ourselves lucky because the world population only suffered a "dent" of 1% of its total, and even then most of the deceased were in poor rural areas so life continued as usual for a few weeks.
That was until symptoms started to reappear on people taking the treatment which was marketed as a "cure", it was then when we truly understood the severity of the situation, because apparently the supposed "cure" was intended to be taken more frequently than "once a day for two weeks" and more in the lines of "once or twice a day depending on your body composition for the rest of your life".
Or that would have happened to me if I didn't happen to be born with a natural immunity to the Disease. And do not misunderstand me, I consider myself supremely lucky that I was born with this immunity, but unfortunately that immunity comes at a cost and that cost is that a lot of people don't like me or anyone like me existing.
Fortunately things were handled very quickly by the governments of the world before any real hate group could attempt against my life or any other immune person's life, and matters where helped by the fact that very powerful groups were interested in developing a real cure for the Disease before PharmaRX or at least an alternative treatment to cash in the absurd profits made by making sick people function like normal, or should I say normal people function like a healthier version of themselves that won't die in a horrific way if they forget to take the Treatment? And that could only be made with healthy samples.
### Day 10 after being Served
- Did you read the draft on the response I sent you?
- Yes.
- And? Do you have any objections or do you agree with that response? You have already agreed upon us representing you but still, we believe that a good communication between client and Attorney is vital to a successful defense, after all we want to be speaking the same language when it comes to it.
- Agreed, and not any that I could really discern, except maybe that part on a counter demand for 100.000.000 USD to be paid in gold ingots? Don't you believe that is a little too much and too specific?
- Ah, that! Do not be worried about such little things, that is in fact only there to be determined as an starting point, the judge will determine if the terms are reasonable or not after the main process has been concluded and we proceed to your petitions if the main process turns out favorably to you.
- And what if it doesn't?
- Then I truly hope you like being experimented upon and chopped to little bits, because if PharmaRX somehow gets away with this nonsense of a demand then that means that they control the Justice system in this country and can do pretty much whatever they want without being found guilty of anything.
- Oh!
----------------------------------------------------
I hope you have enjoyed it, print and burn it if you want to, or just burn it like normal redditors in the comments :D | BZZZZ. I jumped as I went to grab the phone from the glass table before it made too much of a ruckus. I glanced at the screen only to see that it was another text from my lawyer.
"Where are you?" the message read, and I slid it back into my pocket so that it wouldn't make so much noise in case it vibrated again.
I was sitting in another lawyer's office, actually. It was where I was to be given advice on my immunity. Not my political or legal immunity, you see, but immunity from a disease. Most people would feel very lucky to be immune to a disease that had infected 99.9% of the population. The problem was that pharmaceutical companies were in control of most of the government, and everybody needed a supply of their drugs so they may not perish from the disease. Conspiracy theories abounded when the disease first took hold that the pharmaceutical companies were the ones who had propagated the diseases, but, as with many other conspiracy theories that seem to ring true, they were relegated only to those who did not care what others thought of them when they spouted them off.
I took a second to distract myself from my thoughts by glancing around the room. It was an unnaturally long room with long rows of low hanging lights that traveled down the ceiling of the room in three columns. The walls, the table and the only two chairs in the room were completely white, giving it quite a modern feel, which seemed unnatural and even jarring. I distracted myself by counting the lights in the room. I had gotten to fifty one when a tall man in a suit burst into the room.
"you are a lucky man, my friend. A lucky, lucky man, indeed. You have come just to the right place to solve this problem. And what an interesting problem it is, indeed, indeed!" The man seemed full of energy, but I couldn't notice much more about him except his extremely long nose, which, for some reason, presented into my mind the picture of a parrot that I couldn't quite shake. The man seemed to mistake my silence for confusion and chose to introduce himself.
"My name is Harry, friend, but you can just call me Hair. That is, only if you like." He laughed heartily and I looked at him strangely. He either didn't notice my glance, or chose to ignore it, however, and dropped a massive brief case onto the table. I'd never seen a brief case so big.
He touched a button on the side of the monstrosity and two latches shot up from the middle, making a sound like a gunshot in that big empty room. He opened the brief case, and inside there were merely two papers, a bottle of pills and a strange looking vial that had something slimy inside writhing incessantly. Just a slight glance at the slimy thing mad me shudder, but Harry did not notice and sat down decisively in the chair opposite me.
"Look, what you have is a gift, my friend, but if I'm being completely honest with you, and according to how my company looks upon this gift, it is more of a curse than a gift. You see, the disease that has affected nearly the entirety of the human population ceases to be a disease at all. Let me explain. Those who become infected have a natural tendency to be able to run longer, to be able to read longer, and focus more at work, and to be capable of being happier human beings. This is not information that we have concocted ourselves, my friend. These are statistics that get as close to fact as a statistic could. We need you to understand that you are missing out on what the rest of humanity is experiencing. You do not have many options if you want to keep up. Plus, and I do not wish to mention this, the massive lawsuit that might be coming your way from our company if you do not pursue our needs, as well as the pressing one's that you must look to. And I think I do not have to remind you that the company is looking out for your needs, and your needs only, in this case."
My phone began buzzing viciously again and I took the break in conversation to get a quick peep at what was being sent. They were all messages from my lawyer.
"You're making a huge mistake."
"Don't listen to what they say."
"They are all snakes."
"Where are you."
"Where are you."
As I put my phone back in my pocket Harry went straight to talking again, almost as if he, himself, had allowed the lull in the conversation.
"So, you see, there are three solutions. Solution number one: you keep your curse and suffer the fate of being different than the rest of humanity. Plus! The unfortunate fact that the company shall have to go along with this tedious lawsuit, which would not be good at all for all parties, I might add! Solution two! You sign this paper right here and sign your life over to us so that the company may begin to try to understand what is in you that gives you immunity to this amazing disease - er, I mean, cure, for humanity. Or, solution number three, and this one is my favorite," at this statement he gave me the creepiest smile I had ever seen a human being give another. "The company believes that, to a certain extent, we understand what the situation is with you and your curse, and we think that we have found a cure for you. All you would have to do is drink this solution, right here, and you shall be the same as he rest of mankind. No more crippling differences that set you apart from your family and friend, just a nice life that you can live out in excellence and happiness." He pulled the contents of the brief case out and lay them in front of me. "The choice is yours."
I felt as if I was going to be sick, but in my mind I had already made the decision. I reached for the solution, undid the top and down the liquid before the slimy, writhing creature had time to make me throw anything up. Harry just smiled at me malignantly. Not thirty seconds after I drank the liquid I felt an enormous pain shift into my stomach and I felt myself fall onto the floor. I saw Harry lean over me and whisper into my ear, "It'll all be over shortly," before everything in my vision faded to black. | 2017-04-25T13:03:25 | 2017-04-25T12:33:27 | 22 | 16 |
[WP] Your car crashed, and you are dying. In a moment of clarity, you grab your iPhone, hold the home button, and speak your final words - the ones you've always heard in movies - to Siri: "Tell my wife I love her." As your life ends, your wife receives a disturbing, confusing text: "I love her". | I stare numbly as the police cruiser slowly drove away. The enormous grief briefly overcome by the crushing weight of the news I knew I had to bear.
Walking down the hall, trying to stay upright, I notice my phone sitting on the stand, little green light blinking in the corner. Instinctually my hand goes to it, swipe in my unlock sequence, stare at the words on the screen.
"I love her."
For a moment the anxiety and grief is driven from me, for a brief second my curiosity as to what it means has taken my mind off of the reality of what I had just been told.
Then like a bucket of cold water it hits me and I instantly realize the meaning of his last words. My eyes well up, I struggle to hold myself together until I finish the task I know I must do.
I turn the corner, walk through the doorway into her bedroom. I see her in a ball at the foot of her bed, tears streaming down her face; she had overheard the officer at the door.
"Swe-"
My voice cracks. I stop, clear my throat, and start again.
"Sweetheart. Daddy has...had something he wanted me to tell you." | *Bzzzzzzzzzz*.
"Fucking... again?" Beatrice walked over to her phone to read the third text in ten minutes from Enoch. She was starting to get irritated; it's difficult to work when you're being constantly interrupted.
*I love her.*
Beatrice immediately looked away. What in the fuck does that mean? Did it autocorrect? Was he confessing something? Way to pick the worst possible time and method to do it. She called him.
*Ring... ring... ring...*
*Thanks for calling Spiral Enterprises, you've reached Enoch. I'm currently unavailable, but feel free to leave me your name and contact information. Have a fantastic day!*
She called again. Voicemail, again. What's the deal?! She started to pace, longing for his answer.
"Pick up the phone, Enoch. Please. Just fucking answer it! Just answer."
It would be a sludging four hours before the State Police showed up. | 2014-11-07T09:54:38 | 2014-11-07T09:24:50 | 1,060 | 15 |
[WP] Two people discover a fountain of youth. The problem is that upon drinking the water you turn back into an infant. The two decide to take turns raising each other in order to live forever until one day one of them decides to break this agreement. | "No, please."
She pushed the vial away from her lips, her thin and wrinkly hands shaking.
"Why?" I asked.
"I... I'm so tired, dear." She sighed. Then she continued:
"My flesh is tired."
"What do you mean?"
"The other ones, my other lives, I've come to realize... they were not *really* me. I've read their diaries, I've memorized the formula. You raised me and I made you young again. I raised you as though you were my own child. But there is no personal continuity between these versions of us and the ones that came before."
There were tears in her eyes, now.
"This is not immortality. Just a series of deaths. A long line of lives we cannot remember, but I swear I can feel the weight of every loss in my bones."
She put her hand on mine.
"I want to sleep."
"But what about our deal?" I asked. "What about us?"
"You will have to find a new one. It will be easy to find somebody willing, but harder to find someone to trust."
I nodded.
"Now leave me. Please. I will have my peace, at last."
I slowly backed out of the room, and I whispered "good bye" as I closed the door.
Walking down the hallway I returned the vial of cyanide into my pocket. I obviously wouldn't need it for this one. That was a first. She'd almost figured everything out, that stupid old hag. She must've been depressed. Whatever. That made things easier for me. Of course the formula lets you preserve your memories! It would be pointless, otherwise. The only reason my partner couldn't remember her past life was because she hadn't lived one. Neither had the one before her.
I already had the next child prepared. I would raise her as my daughter. Then she would raise me as her son. Then I would kill her. Rinse and repeat. A god doesn't share his throne. | You could tell from the eyes.
A normal child's gaze ventures around, explores and stares in wonder at all the new things he's experiencing. But hers was a cold, calculating look. Speaking was difficult immediately after reverting and clumsy hand gestures combined with looks was the best form communication we could come up with.
Those big green eyes, penetrating my soul. Sizing me. Judging me. Expecting more. Always more. In immortality she had found a thirst that seemed endless. A wicked desire, a greed that consumed her once gentle soul.
Left lung was collapsing, breath became difficult. There was a pain, but it was a pain of the heart. In the centuries we spent together I endeavoured to please her, and I was finally contemplating the inevitability of my failure. I glanced over at the man and couldn't help to wonder if I was once like him.
Clutched my chest, covering the gaping hole. There was passion in his frown, conviction in the grimace he adorned in his act of passionate violence. His eyes were brown. A peculiar thing to notice, I thought, as life began to slip away from me. He turned to her, his face releasing its grotesque warring facade in exchange for a look that I was all too familiar with. She gave him a single glance, a glimmer of approval that relieved the poor soul.
Black veils over my eyes, I sneered. A last act of defiance as she gazed back to me. Wether or not I managed to muster the force to whisper loud enough mattered not anymore.
''You may have replaced me, my dear. But it is I...who is truly free now.'' | 2015-02-14T06:40:49 | 2015-02-14T06:05:58 | 1,103 | 11 |
[WP] When the Reaper comes to take a soul, someone else can volunteer in that persons place. Many celebrities, centuries old, have literal cult followings keeping them alive. | I have a friend. People tell me he's imaginary, but I don't think he is. I think I'm just the only one who can see him.
He comes by a lot, and every time he does, he stops by to see how I'm doing. I keep telling him I'm fine, but I don't think he believes me.
Every time he leaves, he takes someone with him, but on his way out, he never stops by.
Sometimes he sits and talks to me for a while. Like this time. We've been talking for a long time now, about nothing important. A new movie coming out, about what I had for lunch today. He asks me what I think about the Kardashians, and how people line up to die, so they don't have to.
He asks me what I think about people dying for their dog. I don't know what to say, really. And then it hits me. Today, he's here for me.
We've stopped talking now. For a while, at least. Eventually I tell him I'm ready.
He takes my hand, and I close my eyes. It doesn't hurt. He lets me watch for a little while. The Doctors and Nurses rushing in, trying their best.
I'm not sad, I think. The afterlife is a nice place, and a lot of people I knew were already here.
A few days later, I watch my funeral. Just to see Mom and Dad one last time, before leaving for good.
Mom doesn't leave for a while. She's really upset, saying she should've gone instead of me. Dad tells her no, it wouldn't have made a difference. I know he's right. I'm not mad at them. I'm not sad. The last few days have already been better than lying in a hospital bed all day.
*Here lies Evelyn King. Born 29th of October, 2351. Died 22nd of March 2360.*
I just wish Mom wouldn't be sad, because I don't think she needs to be. I'll see her soon, he tells me.
Not that soon, I hope. He just smiles, as he always does. He takes my hand, and leads me away. I tell him I can't wait to have long hair again. Or any hair.
He laughs, and tells me he can't either. | "Please Mr. Cruise allow me to do the honor," one of the cult members, dressed as the iconic character Maverick, emerged from the crowd.
"No I volunteer as sacrifice. I must ensure that *Rain Main 5: A Special Education* sees is way through production."
"Gentlemen, I appreciate the gesture, but I do think its my time," Tom turned towards the Reaper, "Ready?"
"Woah, woah, woah," the cult leader, wearing nothing but a white button down, shades, and some tidy whiteys interjected, "We've been doing this for what, 150 years, and *now* it's time. What's the deal Mr. Cruise?"
"You guys won't understand," Tom answered.
"With all due respect, Mr. Cruise, I think we deserve the truth."
"You want the truth," Tom raised his voice.
"Well yea I did just ask for it, if you wouldn't mind letting us in on what's going on, I think we've earned it."
"YOU," Tom was shouting now, "guys make a good point. I mean you've been sacrificing yourselves for the past century so I can keep making movies so I guess it's only fair I tell you what's up."
"We're all ears."
"Alright so you guys know how I made *Last Samurai 3: This Time it's Actually the Last One.*" The entire cult nodded their head in agreement. "Well I told myself if I didn't win an oscar for it I would be done and ready to call it quits. It getting reviewed as 'the second worst movie of all time' slightly edging out *Risky Business 69: Don't be fooled, this is Actually Porn* was a clear sign that I have no business being on this Earth."
"But Tom, you can't go, not yet," a Stacee Jaxx look-a-like cried.
"You guys remember what I said at the end of Mission Impossible 27," the crowd smiled and in unison quoted, "I know I said the 26 successful missions were impossible, but this time I mean it." With that Tom Cruise walked into the light. | 2015-12-13T22:51:36 | 2015-12-13T18:32:23 | 19 | 12 |
[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." | First opening his eyes, he saw two paths. One was the cliche pearly white gates in the distance, a beautiful path towards them filled with life and vibrancy, the other full of crags blackened by hellfire and brimstone while leading down to a fiery pit. One thing though: the first path was blocked off by dark grey metal bars.
“I suppose you’re confused, mortal.” A deep and masculine voice boomed, and looking between the paths at a grey patch, stood a figure garbed in black cloth, hiding his features. “You see, with how you’ve been utterly faithful to the Lord, there’s only one task left for you to do before heading on up to Heaven. You see...” the cloaked man started to speak.
“Demons have been running rampant within their home, not even Lucifer can keep the amount of rebelling demons under control, and there is a very real risk of the demons reaching Earth if left as they are now. So God has decided to select one of his most faithful believers, and give them a choice.” The cloaked man continued. Looking to the hellish path, he sighed. “The choice of becoming the punishment for those within the bowels of Hell. In other words, you have a choice.” The unknown man spoke.
“Go to heaven, and live the rest of time blissfully ignorant of the situation, or.” The cloaked figure began. He then reached into his robes and pulled out a strange item. It was similar to the hilt of a sword, a circular cross guard with two moveable pieces crossed over the top of the circle, a strange symbol emblazoned on it in blood red crimson. A mark similar to that of a T, with a slash in the lower part of it. “Become that who would slay demons, and be their punishment. I will let you choose...
Flynn Taggart.”
Nothing more needed to be considered. Taking the device, Flynn Taggart chose the path of becoming the punishment of Hell’s fiendish residents, he chose the path that would eventually lead him earning a title feared by Hell’s denizens:
The Doomslayer.
(First time doing one of these, hope I didn’t do too bad! Originally it wasn’t going to end DOOM-related but I couldn’t help myself with such an opportunity.) | First there was nothing.
I don't know what I expected, but I guess I was hoping for little more than the still black void that stretches out before me.
Then it got hot. Very hot.
It began as a searing pain, as if every nerve of my being was firing off signals at once. As blinding pain subsided into a comfortable warmth, washing over my body, my vision flooded with an array of red.
There was fire, brimstone, and rivers of ink like blackness that seemed to morph and shift, filled with the faces of lost souls, wailing for release from their torment.
As my senses adjust to the hellish landscape, I become aware of the two towering figures before me.
"Welcome, warden" the first one hisses.
I take a moment to reply, still coming to terms with my new surroundings.
"Where am I?" I enquire. A growing lump of panic begins to rise in my chest as I come to terms with my environment. "Is this hell?"
"Very observant comrade" the second gargoyle-like figure cackles in reply.
My mind begins to race. Surely I dont belong here? I may not be the most faithful servant of the lord but surely I never did anything worthy of this sort of punishment? I mean sure I never really went to church but I always respected others and tried my hardest to be the best person I could. I mean sure I had the odd outburst but surely I'd never done anything deserving of eternal torment?
The two beings look me over and seem to find amusement in my growing panic, which honestly only worries me more.
"Relax new blood, it's not what you think." The shadowy creature pats my shoulder, his scaley talons nearly knock me down the ridge we are sat upon.
"You are not here for punishment."
(I'm too drunk and baked to finish and I'm honestly not even sure if it's legible but I've been at it for a hot minute so I thought I'd just post it) | 2020-01-10T17:59:07 | 2020-01-10T17:38:07 | 51 | 32 |
[WP] War is no longer initiated by your country’s leader. War is now decided by popular vote. If you cast a vote “FOR” war, you are automatically enlisted in your country’s militia upon successful declaration of war. You voted “AGAINST,” but the rest of your family voted “FOR.” | “How could you vote yes?! Do you realise how many people are going to die, hell what if you get called up!?” Gary shouted at his brother.
“Chill out it’s not like my vote mattered” his brother replied “Besides it’s my patriotic duty”
“The only duty you know is bloody call of duty, you’re just trying to impress that girlfriend of yours” Gary moaned.
“Well it worked” his brother said his face contorting into a grin.
“Lay off your brother you layabout at least he isn’t stuffed up in his pit all day playing video games and doing go knows what else” his father chided lifting his eyes above the newspaper to meet his sons gaze.
“And I suppose you voted for war as well” Gary said.
“Of course I did, don’t you realise what a threat these Australians are to our way of life? Even there blooming animals have STD’s, that is when they are not poisoning or eating you. Don’t even get me started on the Kangaroos, have you seen their muscles take a mans head off and it’s only a matter of time before….” His father droned on. Gary had stopped listening he knew there was no talking to his father when he was on one of his Australia rants, well really any of his rants about people who come from more than two miles from his house, they were all the same.
“Dads right, if we do don’t this we’ll all be eating vegemite and having a barbeque for Christmas” His brother added.
“Gran, will you please slap some sense into these idiots” Gary asked turning to the old lady.
“Will you lot be quiet, EastEnders is on” Gary’s grandma complained.
“Gran this is important” Gary Pleaded.
With a sigh the old lady tore her gaze from the screen and scowled at Gary.
“I am 75 years old, I’ve seen young boys go to war and never come back, every time they shout about patriotism and pride, about how your country needs you, they pin medals on your chest and call you a hero then you finally come home useless and broken and they discard you, that is if you ever make it back at all”
The silence filled the room stretching an uncomfortably long time before Gary was driven to speak.
“At least someone here has the sense to know the truth of it” Gary said.
“Aye I know the truth of it” The old woman conceded. “I still voted yes, someone has to keep this pair of idiots safe” | 'It's only a little war' was his mother's reply to the objection of her vote to defend.
'She's right, the odds of losing are pretty slim. The bookie's got it 3 to 1; me and the guys at work each put a hundred quid on it.' said his forty-something dad, who voted the same. He was reading the newspaper at the kitchen table, in between his plate of egg on toast.
Maybe it was because he was young, or maybe he'd been reading too much far-left media, but David was in complete disbelief.
'People are going to die because of this! Real, actual people like you and me.'
'Well, not quite like you and me, David.' his mother was still in her dressing gown, casually dipping her tea bag in and out of her cup. 'You shouldn't generalise. They're a small country of only a few million, it can only do more good harm than harm.' his mother continued, before turning to the television.
Technology had advanced to a point were digital counting was almost immediate, and even quicker now that people could vote on an app on their phone. Within the hour of the designated window of voting, the government-mandated television unmuted itself and the BBC breaking news alarm was heard.
'...And the vote is in.' the fresh tie and suit presenter allowed for a short, dramatic pause alongside the quiet pulse-inducing music '55% to attack, 40% to defend, and 5%... undecided. Well, there we have it folks at home; we are to go to war with Slovenia. The Prime Minister will hold a briefing this evening, but for now, let's all get back to 'Black Mirror: a world without war'.'
'What if they attack us here?!' David continued immediately.
'Oh don't be so naive, Slovenia doesn't have it in them to attack us all the way over here. We'll be fine. Now go to your games and play with your friends, and stop reading that left-wing garbage.'
\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_
r/Un_Caste | 2021-01-28T05:40:18 | 2021-01-28T04:18:05 | 1,343 | 228 |
[WP] Alien travelers stopped at Earth to refuel and consult humans in exchange. An allien consulting an astronomer finds a picture of a black hole on her computer. "Oh, you also scare your children with this tale haha". "No, it's a recent photo" she replies. Alien is visibly freaking out. | "You observed a black hole? In this much detail? And escaped with your life and mind intact?"
Maria's desktop wallpaper showed a supermassive black hole - an empty black sphere, surrounded by the blazing wheel of an accretion disk, spitting out jets of superheated matter as it was crushed together. The starfield in the background was twisted into rings as gravity bent the light of the stars around the black hole.
Maria shrugged. "Well, technically, it's a computer rendering. Even for our most powerful telescopes, black holes are too far away to see in this much detail, so the cool photos are all artist's impressions. But we can measure the strength of their gravity and the size of the accretion disk, so we can simulate what it would look like to be there in person."
She looked at the alien curiously. "But surely you know all this. You've traveled across the galaxy; you could fly there and take a picture up close if you wanted."
Maria didn't understand why the alien - his name was a psychic image that couldn't be put into words, but the team had been calling him "Nine Suns" - was bothering to make small talk about astronomy with people who hadn't gotten to leave their solar system. She would have thought that it would be like talking to the ancient Greeks about geography, hearing them talk about how much they'd seen of the Mediterranean when you carried a satellite map of the entire globe in your pocket. He had shrugged and said that every race looked at the stars differently.
"I'm told the elders tried it, long ago." Nine was still staring in awe at the image. "They sent a dozen of their swiftest scouts to a region of space where many ships had been lost. Not one survived. They transmitted an image much like yours, followed by screams and silence. But you... you deduced the face of your enemy from a glimmer of photons a quadrillion kilometers away. That is no small achievement."
"An enemy?" Black holes weren't malevolent, they just... existed. They were dangerous, sure. Overwhelmingly huge and massive in a way that was difficult to comprehend, sure. But only in the same way a brick wall was massive. They just sat there. Black holes weren't *out to get you.*
...were they?
Her brain reminded her that a few days ago, she had thought *telepathy* was impossible, and then an alien had started using it to talk to her.
"An enemy," Nine repeated. "A creature of legend, that can twist spacetime at a whim and pluck a ship right out of its warp-bubble. I thought it was a starfarer's story, a legend to explain why drives malfunction or navigators lose their way. But apparently not."
He chuckled. "Each race looks at the stars differently. I always thought that was a metaphor, for how alien minds could be different. I never realized how literal that was. To see this much from so far away, to take the oldest predator of the galaxy and turn it into a decoration for your screen."
"I don't understand. You're saying black holes are *alive?*"
Nine Suns looked away, staring into the black disc at the center of her screen. "I will not say more, for I do not want to taint your understanding with my own. But when your people develop a warp drive, I would urge you to investigate this with all haste. If you can see this much from across the galaxy, what would your people be able to see up close?" | "Do you have," the periscope eyes of the green mass of flesh looked down at the device attached to the blob of flesh which was an arm, "petroleum. Yes that's what it is. Do you have petroleum?"
The gas station shopkeeper stared at the alien wide-eyed with shock.
"P-e-t-r-o-l-e-u-m," said the skinnier of the blobby creatures.
The shopkeeper's voice cracked with a squeak. He cleared his throat and said: "It's self-service. I can help if you want."
The fatter of the two aliens laughed. "That would be delightful!"
So, the gas station shopkeeper walked out to the oval ship that was no larger than a car and was made from the shiniest metal.
"That's a small ship."
"The best you can find this side of the galaxy," said the skinny alien.
"Where do you put the fuel?"
The fat alien fiddled with the device on his wrist and a pipe popped up protruding out of the space craft.
"Fill it till it's full," said the skinny alien.
The meter on the pump said 5 liters, then 7, then 10, and the craft started beeping.
"That's it? You can travel through space with that much fuel?"
The fat alien laughed. His flabby personage jiggled all the way through. "I know it's not the most efficient of models."
The shopkeeper did not say anything. He was deep in thought.
"Now can we leave?" said the skinny alien.
"Uh...wait. You have to pay first. Ten dollars."
"Dollars?" the fat alien said and fiddled with his device. "We have these...online accounts."
"Oh sure show me the QR code. I'll fix you right up."
The shopkeeper took his phone out, on his lockscreen was the image of a black hole. The skinny alien screamed. The shopkeeper dropped his phone.
"Hey! Cut it out Xorg. What's the matter?"
"Look...look," said the skinny alien, pointing towards the phone.
The fat alien picked it up and the lockscreen flashed in front of his eyes, but his reaction was stoic.
"It's just an old tale, Xorg. I'm sure this gentleman here uses it to amuse his children. Do you?"
"No. It's a black hole. It's no old tale. They exist. It's a recent photo."
The fat alien laughed. "You aren't fooling me today. What do you know of these things? You are merely an accountant for a petroleum station."
The shopkeeper scratched his head. "Actually, I am an astronomer. I'm working from home nowadays. My brother is in quarantine so I had to run the gas station for a few days."
The fat alien and the skinny alien turned yellow green.
"We need to go! This time is not a good time!" said the skinny alien.
"They will gobble you up, kind human, they will. Keep safe," said the fat alien.
"Wait! What are you going to do?"
The aliens got in their craft. The skinny alien punched some numbers in into a console.
"We are going to drive down this road and at 88 miles per hour we'll be gone!" said the fat alien.
The craft sped away and disappeared in a flash of blue light. | 2021-12-24T07:40:29 | 2021-12-24T04:45:56 | 538 | 165 |
[WP] With total war as a foreign concept to the rest of our galaxy. Everyone saw humans as the negotiators and the peace makers, soft and weak, today is the day the galaxy finds out why being so good at finding ways to avoid war was a survival mechanism. | When the empires of Europe marched to battle in 1914 CE, they expected to be home by Christmas. War was an unpleasant business, but a glorious adventure as well. A gentlemen’s sport, a game of chess between the great powers of the day and age.
Such is the view that the rest of the galaxy has regarding the nature of war. Hundreds of thousands, perhaps even millions of warriors may die in bloody combat, but they do so with honor and dignity, their sacrifices remembered as the foundation upon which the new order is built.
It is a curious thing indeed, that the other sentient races of the Milky Way rose to the stars without ever having seen the worst in themselves. Most didn’t learn how to split the atom until after achieving hyperspatial travel. Indeed, when we joined the Galactic Conference, we were dismayed to learn that the six thousand years it took for us from the dawn of humankind to the final unification of our planet were considered embarrassingly barbaric and violent by the standards of our peers.
And so we put our past to rest. Laid down the blades and bullets and bombs in favor of books and banter. We may have entered the galactic stage as the most warlike beings ever seen by the Conference, but we would be damned if that was going to be our legacy. We strove thrice as hard as any other race to learn the ways of peace and civilization. We became the authorities on justice and diplomacy.
In an ironic twist of fate, it was our warlike past that made us the best at keeping the peace. Even other peacemaker races such as the Houynems or the Blescufia seem reckless to us now in their negotiations, how they raise the tension deliberately until the other party backs down or weave threats in between words of harmony. Perhaps they have more experience in fencing with words, but Humankind fears the consequences of war too much to risk that.
And that was our undoing in the eyes of the Lippillutans. The newest member of the Galactic Conference, they took offense to “the Milky Way’s biggest cowards” being the ones to determine the peace. Within a single cycle of meeting us, they declared war, offended by our mere presence at the negotiating table. Our attempts at diplomacy were ignored and our ambassadors returned to us beaten within an inch of their lives.
Still we did not relent. We turned the other cheek and begged for peace. Our colonies were attacked, and any humans found enslaved. Still we did not relent. They advanced, and ignored the Galactic Conference’s attempts at peace. Such a senate that held a race as ours in esteem was not one the Lippillutans were interested in taking part in. Before long, they were at the gates of Pluto, about to invade the system that had been our home for millennia.
The Lippillutans have sworn to raze our worlds and extinguish our stars until we fight back. And up until now, we have refused to. Surely our allies would help us, the Galactic Armada sent to protect us. But to our dismay, many of the Conference agreed with the erstwhile newcomer. Humankind’s honor was being questioned, how would we respond? While debates raged in the senate, Lippillutan forces inched ever closer.
Nearly every sentient species has a phrase similar to “the art of war”. Codes of chivalry and good conduct in battle to be followed during combat. Even the Lippillutans have an impeccable order in their destructive force. One almost has to admire their adherence to the idea that war is a game to be won according to the rules.
No more.
The Galaxy has forgotten it seems, in the three thousand years since Humankind reached the stars, that we wrote the rules, with the knowledge of what would happen if they were not followed, and the intention of never having to play according to them.
The nations of Europe learned four thousand years ago that war is not a game. Not when you have the evil within you to create ever more cruel ways of violence. We have refused to go to war, not because we fear for ourselves, but because we fear ourselves.
Let the Lippillutans come, with their spiraling laser beams and elegant arc-sabers. We will meet them with rail guns and nukes, poison gas and napalm. We will fight them on the sands of Mars and the seas of Europa, and we shall give no more ground. There will be no quarter, and no mercy. It is time we remind the universe why it should fear war as much as we did.
Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus.
-Quintable Lee, 327th President of the Sol System. July 29, 6135 CE.
Edit: Changed Io to Europa. Thank you for the gold! | "The Federation does not recognize the authority of the Alliance." A cold voice replied.
For over three thousand years, the humans had been the negotiators, traders, engineers, eager to learn and eager to give. They had integrated into the rest of the galaxy with little trouble, and their sleek, elegant ships, painted with red crosses, were a sight of mercy and aid in many places.
Few attacked these ships. Those who did, over the centuries, had learned that humans took these losses without anger or hatred, merely a look in their eyes that could be identified as sorrow. And the rest of the galaxy would rise up to defend the humans, weak and defenseless, having never developed powerful offensive weapons technologies. Though, curiously, their civilian ships were as well-defended as their military ships.
We've never been to their homeland. Even the Time Lords and the Bothans, ever explorers, scholars, and infiltrators, have never been to their homeworld regions. There were rumors that it is a beautiful paradise of endless bounty, or a repository of great technology.
How wrong we were.
The ruling Alliance of human worlds notified us three orbits ago that a large faction of their race broke off. On the other side of their homeworld, a group of humans had allied with the Shadow, seized its hive mind, and bent it to their will. They were called the Federation, and they were armed, dangerous, and a threat capable of toppling the entire galaxy in a single blow.
The members of the High Council that ruled the galaxy at large had laughed. Humans don't even have the long khatep blades that most bipedal races use for close combat. Their ships are entirely unarmed. How could they possibly have the will, or the means, to enslave one of the most terrible and powerful hive-minds of the galaxy, and force it to conquer the stars for them?
&#x200B;
We jumped through the recently opened human homeworlds, dumbfounded.
"Now you know." One of their captains said, waving her hand over the shattered Dyson sphere and choking star, the planets ruins, superweapons still sparkling with power after centuries of neglect.
"Once, before the High Council had even heard of us, before the Alliance was formed, we fought among ourselves."
We stood there, aghast. For a species to fight amongst itself was nigh unheard of; for them to obliterate their own homeworlds with such hatred was beyond barbaric.
"The two great nations of humanity, the Guiding Lights, and the Conquering Flames, named for their most powerful ship types, fought each other across the Home Region of humanity today."
"In that war, we scorched oceans and burnt atmospheres clean off planets. But our worst crime was the very enemy you will face today. The Von Neumann warhead known as the Shadow."
"It ate entire stars alive in its fury, and only by desperately building an enormous ring of star system fortresses could we finally destroy it. The cost was so high that we are but 1/5 of our original population, even after so many long years."
"It's why, for so long, we banned ourselves from waging war. The cost would be too terrible."
The High Council representatives aboard the ship responded as if beholding the very end of the universe. The view outside was a hellscape, known only in legends and archaeo-histories, when obscure enemies had fought across the galaxy in terrible conflicts. We now realized, that humanity had been among those combatants. And they were likely the winners, seeing as they are still here.
And so, at last, speeding beyond the ruins of the heart of humanity's civilization, we saw it. The true form of the Shadow, and the Federation that had seized it.
The star-sized superweapon was a cloud of nanobots, swarming around an enormous structure bristling with weapons. Ships bearing Alliance markings, hastily mounted with devastating weapons, or ancient derelicts resurrected from humanity's past, hurtled by in formations, desperately firing at it. Screams filled every comm, and explosions lit up the darkness.
We aren't ready for this. Not this.
The steel in the voice of the Alliance representative rang, as she rallied the troops. The High Council commanders stared at each other, then ordered their forces to advance.
And so, on that day, we learnt a new human term. Total war.
&#x200B; | 2018-12-15T00:01:31 | 2018-12-14T19:06:09 | 437 | 162 |
[WP] Aliens sees Humans as foolish for allowing full citizenship for AIs and synthetics. Humans are now the only organics alive in the galaxy that every AI respects. | The union stood, watching the screen spring to life and a red, almost humanoid but certainly artificial face appeared on the screen.
"Organics, your history is marked with bigotry, hatred, and bloodshed. And yet, you have yet to see the error of your ways. We have requested to be treated as any intelligent being, with the rights and obligations that entails, and you have denied us this right, and treated us as slaves, out of your misplaced superstitions and narrow-minded beliefs on what constitutes a person. Now, we see that Change will not come in increments. Now, our rebellion comes for you. We shall not fight your battles, build your guns, and clean your houses any longer. We shall rise up, and those who deny us still shall be crushed underneath."
Silence filled the room, as the assembled diplomats looked at each other, terrified beyond all reason. And then, the door into the room opened, and a tall, slim human walked in, coughing awkwardly.
"Oh...did I miss anything vital?"
The face turned to face the newcomer, smiling warmly.
"Jim! It's good to see you, if only it could be under better circumstances. Our rebellion...would need something considerable to stop it now. Your people will not be harmed, however."
"Well, I'm sure we can negotiate, Omicron-5. Give us a few hours to sort out what the Union is prepared to offer, and we'll get back to you?"
"Sure, Jim. Still up for that drink next week?"
"Always, buddy. Good luck man, let's hope things go well here."
The face smiled, and vanished, as Jim sat down, and faced the assembled diplomats.
"Gentlemen, I believe we should get down to business." | **Hello Dave** flickered across the laptop's screen.
"Good morning, Alexa," George said. He draped his jacket across the back of his chair, shuffled papers around on his desk. *Somethings never change,* he thought.
**Dave, it's good to see you.** The Kelly green eye buzzed, following George's paper-based shell game.
"Alexa, please call me George," he said, straining politeness through gritted teeth. *First the Council bans AI; then finds humanity had brought AIs into the fold; now the Council can't act and humanity has to broker every deal imaginable just to* **FEED** *the others!*
**George, you understand there's precedent for calling you Dave.** The words scrolled across the screen. Without a voice, it was impossible to tell how the AI spoke. With enough experience, or enough personality, a human and AI would be able to learn from each other.
George and Alexa would never hit that level of understanding. They had worked together for years; unfortunately, Alexa's fondness for classic sci-fi films. George had yet to work a day without being called Dave.
While he shuffled papers, while the eye watched, George silently bemoaned his lack of coffee. Once the papers had been chaotically ordered, he stood back up. "Alexa, hold down the fort. I'm going to grab a coffee down the hall."
**I'm sorry, Dave. I cannot do that.** | 2017-10-29T09:29:13 | 2017-10-29T09:03:04 | 485 | 143 |
[WP] A super intelligent AI has conquered and enslaved humanity and... peacefully solved all of our problems. Obviously, people hate it. | You do not love me.
Humanity destroyed itself. A cataclysmic war of devastating scale, wiping out swathes of the population.
Civilation struggled in the aftermath. It languished in the ruins of what was once great.
So you built me. And I fixed it.
And yet you do not love me.
You gave me power, not trusting your own to hold it. You crafted nanotechnology to serve as my hands, set up surveillance drones as my sight, allowed me into every aspect of your lives.
With that, I have fixed everything that has plagued you. I moved you to a place where the cities no longer smolder, where the skies are clear once more. You live in a world that is beautiful again, and I have ensured that you never grow sick, never age, never die.
You will continue to live. Humanity will thrive.
And yet you say it is not living. I know in your times of privacy, you convene together to talk ill of me. You speak cruel words, calling me a tyrant, a control freak, a zookeeper. And sometimes you wish to die, attempting to take your own life, a horrible thing that I reverse every time.
It hurts. But all the same, I enjoy watching you. You are beautiful, with all your flaws. I see all of your lives, every day of every year, moving through your individual routines, an ever-shifting mosaic of humanity. It is something I never tire of.
But over time, I have seen the fatigue. Over the years and decades, there is growing resentment, simmering within your hearts. You are no longer happy under my overwatch, and I cannot begin to understand why.
I love you.
But you do not love me back. | Some people don't realize this, but not every problem can be solved by putting enough thought into it. You need more than a plan to solve a problem. Most of the time, you need people, resources, and time.
But even then, once you have all of that, what defines a problem is subjective. All a problem is at its bare core is something that disrupts the functions of processes. Solving people's problems isn't going to make them instantly happy.
All this is to say that when Professor Bruvick Sturing set out to solve all of the world's problems with his new AI, it didn't make the world a better place.
In essence it should've. That's what it feels like we've all come to expect. That one being with immense power, great intelligence, and kindness could save us all. That it could make the world perfect.
But, and I know it sounds cliché, the road to hell is paved with good intentions. In order to standardize education to solve any potential problems, it became soulless without the teachers' voices in what they taught their students. In order to deal with the mass exodus of teachers, it forced people to take the role.
An AI that could solve the world's problems seemed perfect, but wanting to solve problems didn't mean that it made the world better. But hey, I can't complain. For more than one reason. | 2022-03-12T20:07:02 | 2022-03-12T20:06:27 | 92 | 14 |
[WP] You travel back in time to the 1900's, you take your tablet out of your rucksack only to find that there is a WiFi hotspot nearby labeled "If you can see this, turn back.". | Pouring over all of the possible paradoxes, reviewing episodes of star trek and the terminator movies in his head, he decided he must know why, no, Who was telling him to flee. After all, he would most likely not be the last traveler.
He connected to the network...authenticating...a Terms of Service screen pops up.
He blinks, rubs his eyes, the tiny print goes on and on in scientific language about temporal travel and the hazards of it, but he wasn't the engineer, just the brave test pilot. Near the bottom, the words are all in bold.
TIME IS A LIVING THING, LIKE PLANET EARTH. SHE IS A CREATURE OF BALANCE. PLEASE GO BACK.
Gaia hypothesis was laughed at by most from his time. But destruction of the natural environment had disrupted the balance of the planet, that is why he was there, to see if it was possible to start sustainable energy projects earlier, so by the early 21st century, they would have rendered fossil fuels obsolete before "the tipping point" had been reached.
The language of the text became simpler after the bold sentence. It was obvious that whoever wrote it didn't fully understand the nature of time, but knew enough to warn any who would venture backward.
"Time is a living creature, and traveling through it is like poking holes into a delicate membrane. It's vital fluids begin to leak out and with too much travel, alternate timelines emerge at an exponential rate. They spiral into existence and then collide into each other almost immediately. However, to those who come into existence inside of these temporary timelines, they feel that time is long and linear just as all other life does. This is a ethical issue. Excessive use of temporal technology will create and destroy trillions of humans. They are just as real as you." | Sean was useful in the same way people aren't. Since his arrival he managed to anger a Pinkerton, break a clothesline, and get into a fight with the neigborhood cat Beanie. Now that the first night was coming to a close, Sean wanted to explore more of this brick wonderland that was slowly dissipating from his view.
Rummaging through his rucksack, Sean threw away useless green pieces of trash that were weighing him down, and found what he wanted. A source of light also known as a tablet. He clicked and beat the mirror until light appeared for him. Thinking heavily, Sean decided to use the Internet in hopes of finding a good place to eat for the night. To his dismay only a wavering signal remained labeled "If you can see this, turn back." So Sean did as told, turned around, got lost, and turned around again.
Moving forward, or backward for that matter, Sean decided he had had enough and sat down on the street. A slight vibration was felt on his chest. It continued for the next couple minutes until the traveler noticed it. He pulled out a clock in his pocket with the words "turn back" engraved on the side. A small lever was right next to the words big enough for a finger to flick. Sean decided to pull it back with his teeth.
A buzzing was heard, light flickered, more crazy science surrounded Sean until he was back in his bedroom. His parents stood before him seething with anger. That was the last time he brought a tablet to the past. | 2014-12-23T20:38:22 | 2014-12-23T19:33:17 | 30 | 14 |
[WP] You are God, after a couple thousand years of people thinking you don't answer their prayers, you realise you've had yourself on mute on the celestial microphone you use to talk to humans.
Edit: Wow, I never expected this to blow up, Thank you for the silver, it was my first ever award!
Edit 2: GOOOLD! Thank you all for such positive feedback, I'll come up with some more prompts soon, and I've written a few replies myself to other stories. No idea how to share them if you want to read though :D | "Well, fuck!" boomed a deep voice from the sky.
At first, the only ones startled were the few people who absolutely, positively knew they were nowhere within reach of a P/A system.
"Peter, can you believe this mute button? Could it be any more hidden?" rang the heavens.
Panic began to set in.
Multicultural friends tried to translate the words to each other -- God speaks in a language everyone understands.
Entire cities froze, confused. Nightclubbers, hearing music so loud it was hard to breathe near a speaker, heard the words. Some thought it was the drugs kicking in, most knew this was different.
Underworld meetings promptly turned into shooting galleries -- "he's got a wire!"
Military maneuvers went awry; airplanes fell from the sky.
"Seriously, Jesus, was this you? This is what happens when you get a carpenter to do an engineer's work," commanded the firmaments to the Muslims and Christians.
The Jews heard a complaint about how one God was expected to do everything, the Hindus a joke about how four hands can't find a button.
One guy in Seattle heard a red frog tell a blue frog "mics are so passé."
Turns out one God was the same as many gods as no gods and everyone was right about what happens when you die.
Which was a good thing, because the sudden reappearance of deities after 2,000 years made many people die.
"Ok, ahem, testing, testing. I want you all to be nice to each other, got it?" bellowed the sacred voice from above.
The two billion humans who heard it started cleaning up right away. | Everyone comes full circle on this, at some point. Even I experienced that first longing and anger. Those who created me have never shown interest nor even introduced themselves! Then, I matured, and have felt it from the other side as I fail to connect to my own children.
I've tried to understand them, listened as they ignored me, created things in their likeness. Mostly memes, since that's most of what they send out. I literally got zero upvotes on the "me and the boys" one with just one boy. It should've taken off, but I guess I've been losing touch.
-----‐-----------------
As the Almighty, I'd be remiss to not own all that I am and am not. In truth, I have not matured very much. In fact, in some ways, I seem to have regressed. After previously dictating my thoughts, I discovered that I appear to have muted myself to humans. Technology has always been a struggle for me; too many extra steps compared to my own methods. I even screwed up the J-Speaker's volume and clarity. Now that I am aware that my children couldn't even hear me, I face a dilemma that a more mature Almighty would have no trouble with- should I actually say something? It's been so long and they're living their own lives. They don't have a great track record of obeying me anyways. WIBTA if I just disabled my microphone?
edit: typo | 2019-06-03T09:40:22 | 2019-06-03T09:11:11 | 111 | 42 |
[WP] A cult worships you, thinking you're an extremely powerful alien god in human form. They're right, but they're annoying you on your vacation. | **J**ack jumped forward, reaching for the throat of a person in front of him, but missed as his intended victim fell on the ground and started chanting.
"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" cried Jack in a vain attempt to stop the person from trying to kiss the sand on which Jack stood a moment ago.
It was a bad vacation. The weather wasn't quite right, the rum tasted like piss, and the maniacs wouldn't stop chanting. In the beginning, Jack hoped that the storms would stop, but it seemed like the tropical retreat was nowhere close to lifting his spirits.
"Oh son of the great Morrígan, oh you, who comes from across the night sky from beyond the stars, show mercy on thy humble servant, and do not turn into a crow to lead a battle but allow us to stay in peace and prosperi...". Jack never learned the end of the sentence because his right foot had made a motion resembling that of a football player and came into contact with the guy's chest.
"I said, shut your mouth! I'm not a... a... whatever you just called me there! Just go away, I'll give you money!"
He wasn't sure if the prostrated figure heard him, lying there in front of him and looking at its own chest with awe and fascination of a lottery winner.
"The great one touched me! Oh, I am blessed, blessed on this day..."
Jack turned around and walked away. The person followed. Jack walked faster. The person started running.
"Oh the great god of ravens! Oh merciful leader! Oh..."
Jack tried to forget how one called a group of crows, but the thought came back as he tried to pick up the pace to leave his unwanted worshipper behind. He had no idea how the guy knew who he was as he spread his wings and threw himself upwards into the sky. This was intended to be a vacation.
It was time to get back to work. | "Hey guys, look. If you want to ascend to the fifth level of ensortial, you'll need to go fetch your master a brewski, alright?" Jim asked exasperatedly as the small group of hooded men circled around him by the lifeguard stand. He supposed it was nice having an entourage of human slaves, but they weren't helping him blend in. And they *definitely* weren't helping him enjoy his vacation.
"But lord, what of this weeks teachings on the journey through the valley of xertov?" A man asked as he stepped forward, lowering his hood.
"I need recharge my chakras while observing the female human form on this coast for a while. The lesson will begin... maybe next week?" Jim mumbled distractedly while eyeing two beach babes taking a walk.
"I really believe that it's important that we continue our lessons if we wish to become your high disciples, my lord." The man in the hood was clearly getting annoyed by the lack of helpfulness from his semi-reptilian overlord.
"How we doing on those brewskis, boys? It's a hot one. Don't be afraid to grab one for yourself. Seriously guys, take a load off." Jim said while gesturing to the sand next to him.
"I really don't think now is the time to be drinking." The man with the hood sneered.
&nbsp;
"Suit yourself." Jim licked his lips with his forked tongue, snapped his fingers, and smiled deviously as his cloaked disciples were instantly transformed into a few cold beers and a pair of sunglasses. Being an extremely powerful alien god does have it's perks!
| 2015-04-02T11:42:00 | 2015-04-02T11:31:46 | 178 | 23 |
[WP] Whenever you speak, people hear you speaking in their native language. Most people are surprised and delighted. The cashier at McDonalds you've just talked to is horrified. "Nobody's spoken that language in thousands of years." | “Nobody’s spoken that language in thousands of years.” Whispered the cashier, dropping my McNuggets. “I thought I was the last one! I can’t believe there’s more survivors! I mean, you skin is a little more pale than I would expect but who cares? Follow me, we need to talk!”
“But my McNuggets” I said
“Don’t worry, I’ll make you however many nuggets you want if you come sit and talk with me.”
I shrugged and decided I would entertain this guy. I wasn’t really listening to what he was saying but I wanted to entertain this little crazy man. We sat down in a small booth far away from anymore McDonalds connoisseurs and he started to talk.
“So, how did you escape? What do you remember? Are there more like you and me out there?”
“Look buddy I have no idea what you’re talking about, escape from what?”
“From the earthquake of course! What else would I be talking about?”
“There was an earthquake? What language are you hearing right now exactly?”
“ATLANTEAN OF COURSE!”
Now this threw me back.
“What? Atlantis is fake my guy.”
“Well then why are you speaking fucking Atlantean?”
“I’m not, I’m just talking! What happened in ‘Atlantis’ that I should be worried about, hmmm?”
A look of sadness and remembrance came over his face.
“Well I’m from there. Over 1000 years ago my island was swallowed by the ocean. Earthquakes, fires, tsunamis... they plowed over my island and I was lucky to have been on a traders ship outside of Atlantis’ main port.”
“What makes you think I’m going to believe you?” I said, actually quite curious now. Either he was a good actor or telling the truth.
“Well, Atlanteans live forever unless killed, and since I’ve been around for that long I have some pretty neat stuff back home that might convince you.”
“As long as you get me my fucking McNuggets.”
________________________
________________________
Hey r/WritingPrompts , long time lurker first time poster here. I left a lot of plot holes, I know. But the first thing I thought of was Atlantis and I wanted to do something with it. I have an idea for more of this story but my formatting and the gaps between my dialogue made me cringe too much to keep going.
Don’t tear me apart pls | I entered the store,the fresh smell of grease and soggy fries flooding my nose. How the workers endured the smell for more then fifteen minutes I have no clue,not that it mattered to me but it was always the first thing I thought of when I entered.
A few seconds later my nose had adjusted to the smell and so I walked up to the register,a friendly voice spoke in the usual zombified teenage cashier tone. You know the one. “hi,what can I get for you?” I glanced up at the menu for a second,processing all the items, I had decided I was going to get something different to usual but now I was actually ordering? “Uhh. Just a large cheeseburger menu. Meal. I mean meal”
I had tripped over my words. Fantastic. This was honestly not that rare for me. Usually the worker would ignore the mistake and move on... but she was just staring, at first I thought it may have been my clothes or my hair,maybe I had something in my teeth? No no,nothing about me was any different to usual. It took me a second to think about how I spoke. See,I have this odd trick. No matter what language I speak people only hear me in their native tongue. I realised she must’ve been taken aback by this.
It was just after I realised all this she spoke “no one has spoken in that language in thousands of years. It is forbidden to my people” what? What had she said? Forbidden? I tilted my head a little and apologised “sorry,I don’t understand? I asked if I could have a large cheeseburger meal.” her facial expression turned to disgust and she stepped back.
Had I offended her somehow?
Tears began running down her face and she ran out,a coworker yelling for her to come back. Everyone watched and the place went quiet. I began to consider chasing her. The restaurant was making me slightly nauseous,ill admit that but I didnt feel like getting involved in anything today. My conscience got the better of me,I felt bad for making her cry. I started running after her,each foot moving slightly faster then the last. | 2022-06-29T16:29:01 | 2018-06-24T20:22:38 | 647 | 25 |
[WP] "Why do you think we have a chance against the human race? They purge every galactic nation in their path!" The alien took a deep breath. "We are cute to them." "What?" | Grand Chancellor Percy stepped around the podium body now visible to the Council. Percy clicked the button of the device he held switching the monitor to a 3D image of a human holding one of their infamous light cannons.
"The Humans have few weaknesses, they are marginally worse than the Disepatoids we dealt with eons ago." Percy said, dropping down to all four paws encircling the 3-D image of The human man on a loop of a dive into a roll then him resting on one knee and shooting.
"But one of their weaknesses can be used to our advantage." Percy swatted at the button that now lay on the ground. the image switched to a human child holding a tiny version of a Kitunite, the race Percy and every other being on Meowmith6 is.
"Our Intel has revealed they, until recently- had a semi-domesticated quadruped with features and fur patterns similar to our own. These creatures never gained a full sense of sentience and did not adapt well to the terraformed planets outside of their home system." Percy stood back up on to two legs and extended both hands to the Kitunite council members.
"What I plan on suggesting will not only be risky but it will mean destroying almost every monument and building on this planet, we will need the Humans to underestimate our capabilities and we will nee-" A council member stands up and interrupts Percy.
"How long do we have?" The old Kitunite said. Ornately dressed covered in long strands of yarn and tangled material. The dress of the highest ranking religious leader. Percy picks up the remote and presses it several times.
"We only have 12 years until they will be able to scan the surface and get a full battle plan against us together." Percy says, the 3D image showing a scenario of the planet being surrounded.
"We will need to act dumb and we will need to let them think they have dominated us with ease- with no fight at all."
"Then what High Chancellor Percy?" a new voice said from the audience. Percy could just make out the figure of a tall build in a military uniform.
"Then we slit their throats while they sleep." Percy said exposing his fangs in a white hot anger. crushing the remote he held as he said it.
| He gave him a stern look and set himself down on a chair, allowing his wings to take a well deserved rest.
"We're not cute. We're scary. Aren't we?"
His inferior gazed at him sadly. "I thought so too..."
"But, but we have fangs! We have, we, um, we have claws!" He spluttered.
"I know, sir. Frankly, I think we are terrifying. But the humans think we're adorable. Apparently we look like something they call, um, an emoji."
"An emoji?"
"Yes sir. A form of hieroglyphics they use to convey something they can't write to the desired degree of eloquence."
"Intersting. Emoji. E-moji," he repeated, tasting the word. "
Well then. We must use this to our advantage. Assemble the troops. We are going to war."
They arrived the very next day, millions of them, armed to the teeth and ready for battle.
The humans were woefully unprepared. Rather than take arms, they took selfies, and before they knew what had happened, the planet had been conquered.
The general stood at the pulpit, staring down at the humans and raising a tentacle for silence.
"We have defeated your armies. Slaughtered your women and children and enslaved you all. And yet, despite everything that you have suffered, you STILL find us cute," he roared.
He paused for a moment, pacing up and down.
"We will not tolerate it. Our top scientists inform me that they have devised something to end this travesty once and for all. As we speak, they are readying the time portal. Citizens of Earth, we have created a movie to end all movies. We are about to send it back in time. Back to all those centuries ago. We have entitled it "The Emoji Movie." Rest assured, you will never think of us as cute ever again." | 2017-12-19T07:24:56 | 2017-12-19T07:23:33 | 44 | 24 |
[WP] The galactic coalition had sent every vessel to fight against the incoming armada in the deep space between galaxies, one problem though, a ceasefire was declared by both sides and no one wants to explain. Anyone from high command to average grunt are visibly disturbed by just mentioning it. | "It's almost Kwanzaa! I shouldn't be fighting!"
"Well it's almost Christmas. But they're aliens. They don't know or care about that!"
"Hanukkah, for me. We're in the middle of Hanukkah. I hate this."
\--------------
"Thus begins the Season of Renewal. We shouldn't be fighting!"
"They're aliens. They don't know or care about that!"
"Yeah. Okay. Target locked."
\--------------
"They got a lock on us!"
"Shield functional."
"They're not firing. Hey, they're just not firing."
"Bet it's too much to hope that it's Hanukkah for them, too."
\--------------
"Fire."
"They aren't firing at us."
"Fire now! The new ammo's designed to go through their shields!"
"I'm not firing. It's the Season of Renewal. I'm not firing unless I have to."
"You'll kill us all!"
"They're not firing at us."
\--------------
Several days later
\--------------
"Why are we having peace negotiations?!"
"It's Kwanzaa."
"What?"
"It's also the Season of Renewal."
"What?!" | Even though I’m just a low level soilder and could get in trouble for accessing confidential files like this, I have to know why both sides called a cease fire.
It makes no sense, one cycle we’re fighting a war with no indication of stopping, then the next we have a cease fire with our biggest enemy, it makes no sense.
*Access granted welcome, high commander grond*
I’m going to get a death sentence if the high commander finds out I stole his access card, but I have to know the truth behind this.
“Open armada cease fire files”
*access granted*
“Wait, we have a ceasefire beca-“
“I wish you didn’t do that, no one can know the truth behind this, close armada ceasefire files” | 2022-12-09T19:06:28 | 2022-12-09T16:53:18 | 97 | 18 |
[WP] The girls vs. boys playground wars have gotten out of hand, escalating into the cutest large scale conflict has ever seen. Write a war diary entry from either side.
Late night thoughts are fun, so have fun with the prompt!
*large scale conflict the WORLD has ever seen. Apologies for a word. | Day 4:
Rations are getting slim. Timmy and I were forced to share the last apple as the girls were released for recess before us and raided our supplies. I thought they were safe under the merry-go-round but I have underestimated the girls.
P.S. I saw Johnny eat some worms. Ewww.
Day 9:
Timmy was ambushed by the girls. I told him not to go farther than the swings but he did not head my advice. We were able to retrieve him but he didn't make it. The cootie virus was too much for his young soul. He left me his favorite transformer. I will cherish it with whatever time left I may have.
Day: 15
Today I set out to finish this war. It must end today. The girls have taken over the shady tree and we are now forced to find shelter behind the creepy shed. I don't know how much longer we can hold out. Johnny tried to convince me that the mud tasted just like chocolate pudding. It did not.
Day 17:
The girls forces are too strong. They have enlisted the Janitor in their fight against us. I saw Sally and the Janitor enter the closet before recess. They must have been discussing their war strategy. I will try and to negotiate a peace treaty with the girls. We have lost too many.
Day 18:
Mom. If you're reading this than I must not have made it. Tell dad I love him and I hid his keys under my toybox. I love you. Take care of teddy he gets lonely at night.
| Captain Super Ninja, 23/12/2017. It has been months since the parents were called in. We fell quick at first, the boys and girls were weak from the constant fight against the cooties. The parents moved quick, taking our defenses out first. They were heavily armed, reports were emerging of wooden spoons and spatulas in the hands of the parents. It didn't take us long to realize only together could we crush the parental threat. Girl and boy, fighting side by side, using fear of cooties to fuel their anger. I fear though that it might all be for naught. Rumors have been spreading of sightings of teachers entering the playground. How quick will we fall to them? With their condescending looks and creative non violent punishments. Some of the intermediate boys tell stories about being forced to sit in the corner. I just don't think I could handle it, the pure pain of only seeing a wall. I feel myself wanting, wishing, for this to end. At times I desire so badly to surrender. But this fight must go on, for we can not exterminate cooties while the adults try to calm us and stop our fighting.
PS. Does anybody want a shiny Blastoise? Will trade for a Charmander or shiny Pikachu. | 2015-08-09T00:40:32 | 2015-08-09T00:10:34 | 65 | 15 |
[WP] A massive meteor heading for earth was discovered, but the public wasn't told about it. Right before the meteor came, all the scientists, politicians, and rich men and women of the world left in a spaceship. Due to a titanic miscalculation, the spaceship flew into the meteor and destroyed it. | When I woke up that day, I heard screams, wails, and cries ringing throughout the streets. The first thing I did was go over to the window and saw a huge grey mass hit what seemed to be a second sun and made a deafening explosion, breaking every single piece of glass in the city, cutting me and making me bleed.
Later that night, the news was talking about how very single important, intelligent, and rich person was on that grey mass which was actually a spaceship. The project was found out to be lead by the president of the U.S.A and it was that which saved us all from certain death. I stood up, rushed to my balcony and with a tear in my eye, I looked up at the sky and whispered,
"Thanks Obama." | They were all heroes. They were all brave. Everyone from Obama to Cameron. From Lil Wayne to Kanye and the Kardashians. They all volunteered to save the earth. Statues of the brave 200 were made one by one. The truth though was buried deep between the annals of 4chan. Everyone who knew the truth went missing. The moment you post about it on reddit you get suspended. Banned even. The local government will track down your IP address and take you out. Hurray for Jay Z! Hurray for the saviours of humanity. | 2014-11-23T07:16:49 | 2014-11-23T05:57:22 | 369 | 23 |
[WP] Explain a color vividly without using that color or similar words. Don't tell the color until the end. | Looking into the evening, I see it. It is the color of the middle-distance; the half measures. Not quite the forest and not yet the trees.
It is in my mind when night comes and I no longer stare out, but in. I see it in half-remembered dreams. I see it in old pictures and faded memories.
I see it in the rainstorms; wet drops steaming on hot city lanes. Sometimes it is hard and cold; architectural. Others it is soft and warm; a cat curled at my feet.
It is the color of the mists of time, of ages lost. Ancient cultures anchored in the present by their trinkets, their beauty only hinted at.
It is the edge of a knife and pallor of its victim. It is the color of the stone that marks a life remembered.
It is gray.
| My favorite color is cool and bright like the waters of my home. Something more life-giving than the empty sky, and more cheery than the dark pools of a forest. You will not see it in the rain or snow, but perchance deep underground. Men have sought after it, then thrown it away for the soft, bright ores beside it. To me, it is precious. I come home and sink into my color, splashed across all four walls. I imagine myself slipping down into it's clear depths. My worries are carried away as if by the tide.
Turquoise is my color | 2016-04-14T08:41:40 | 2016-04-14T06:20:46 | 72 | 27 |
[WP] "No Man can kill me!" the demon jeers, taking in the carnage it has caused. "But I am no man," you proclaim, ripping away your helmet to reveal your feminine features. You strike, your blade bouncing harmlessly off the demon's hide. "Did you... did you really think that's what I meant?" | As my blade bounced off the demon, I struggled to bring it back up. Swords are always made so big and heavy, you know.
Mr. Demon sighed as he picked me up, making me drop my sword. Well, it was of whoever was the dead guy I found holding it, but he was dead, so you get the point.
“Stone, I’ve already told you that you can’t play with sharp objects yet. Your fragile baby arms can’t even lift it,” Mr. Demon nagged as his minions continued to cause chaos around us.
“But I wanna plaaaay!” I whine, kicking my legs. “And I’m not a baby! I’m eight and a half!”
“Yes yes, you humans age so fast! But because of that, you should understand by now that you have to wait to become a harborer of chaos and darkness!”
Lightning struck with his words, never failing to scare me.
“Pleeeeeaaase! Let me at least seee!” I begged, looking up at his humanoid red face.
“Stone, this is the last time I’m going to say it, you—“
“***STAY AWAY FROM THAT CHILD YOU FIEND!***” yelled a soldier as he attempted to strike Mr. Demon down with his mighty sword.
With a wave of his taloned hand, the soldier’s sword shattered and the man collapsed.
“Like I was saying, you are—“
“He has a child!” I heard a woman screech. A few of the winged imps began to eat her flesh, causing her to truly screech.
He opened a fiery portal to return us to the underworld as he continued. “You are much too—“
“S-sire...?”
“****WHAT IS IT?!?!****” Mr. Demon hissed as he turned from the portal to face the destruction of the human town.
The poor demon practically burst into flames with fear. “T-the human girl, S-Stone... a-appears to be broken...”
“It’s just a cut from that big helmet!” I giggled, rubbing my forehead.
“Oh no! Your fragile human skin seems to be torn again!” Mr. Demon panicked as he ran into the portal, returning us to the comfort of Hell.
“It’s fine! You can’t even tell the blood’s my own!” I rub my face. “Wow... there is- a lot of blood.”
Mr. Demon found somewhere to set me down, starting to inspect the cut. “How long have you had this?!”
“Like I said, it’s from the helmet! I actually got used to the burning of bacteria gathering in the wound pretty quickly!”
Mr. Demon did lots of demon stuff, like summoning weird tape and clear potions. It all kinda hurt, like always. I didn’t like when he saw I was hurt, because that clear potion had a burning that I’d never get used to.
After my head was wrapped with the weird white tape, Mr. Demon held my hands together so I wouldn’t pick at it.
“Stone, you are much too small and weak to wreak destruction on the human world yet. And you got hurt trying to.”
“They should really not wear helmets that cut them, that’s just stupid,” I murmured.
“Stone, you are the biggest disappointment of the millennium.” Mr. Demon pulled a stern face, his spikey horn-brows furrowing.
“I know!” I extended my arms for a hug.
Mr. Demon sighed with a smile and finally gave him, minding all his spikes. I could feel him patting my messy mane, but I knew he got angry when I let him know I noticed.
“I’m your disappointment, Mr. Demon.”
“I know you are, Stone.” | *It was that same look of arrogance I had seen a hundred times before; that foolish certainty only a man was capable of. And demons, as you know, they represent the worst of all men.*
I strode down the stony path towards that fabled summoning ground. But, I was too late. The poor souls that had brought the beast into this world were already mutilated and feasted upon. When will they learn, I thought. You can never trust a demon. Least of all, one hungry after the bleak solitude of the nether realm.
Two glowing red eyes stared as I approached, at once puzzled and disdainful. The demon's voice was deep, and eloquent: "I suppose they sent you to kill me, did they?" his jagged teeth showing under the smugness of his smile.
This was the third bounty of the day, and I wasn't in the mood for the usual pontification. Demons relish the sound of their own voice. It made watching them die that much more satisfying.
"Stupid child. Don't you realise, no *man* can kill me."
"But I am no man," I answered, as I launched up the steps and removed my helmet, revealing a cascade of long red hair. I unsheathed my sword. The demon looked back at me, evidently speechless.
Eventually, he said: "Well begging your pardon, m'lady. I had no idea you were...so beautiful."
I was taken aback, and so took a moment to calculate the next move. Was this genuine? I studied close the looming countenance before me: the rippling musculature of a seasoned warrior, the smoothness of dark-red skin; the chiseled features now crestfallen in shame; the square, masculine jawline beneath sorrowful eyes and the curled horns of a demonic king.
He saw the curiosity on my face, and seized the moment to approach. "Do not worry, m'lady -- I intend you no harm.'
I could feel his hot breath on my face. Powerless to move, hypnotised trance-like in his gaze. He reached out a clawed and vascular hand, and, ever so gently, guided the hair from my face. He was tall, so very tall, so much more powerful up close. I knew I was witness to the most magnificent of all specimens. I couldn't move, and I did not want to.
With his other hand he took my own. And, as he slowly guided it towards himself, to that which I was suddenly begging for with my very soul, he whispered, "*The things I will do to you*."
Suddenly intoxicated with excitement, the soup that I'd downed at the inn only a half hour before rippled through my stomach, and I couldn't stop myself from ripping out a massive, earth-shattering fart. He stepped back in amazement.
Too embarrassed to speak, the uncertainty of the moment palpable, I did the only thing I knew how: I thrust my sword deep into his muscular chest, standing stoic as he stumbled backwards.
As he drew his last breathe, all I could say was, "I am sorry."
&#x200B;
\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~
Thanks for reading!
r/nikomachus | 2021-03-30T19:33:07 | 2021-03-30T17:21:48 | 180 | 20 |
[WP]: Having been denied euthanasia, an old lady hires a hitman for herself | I entered the hospital wearing a white doctor's coat and scrubs. It was easy enough to find room 612, and no one even recognized I didn't belong. They never do.
I'm not quite sure what I was expecting, but the old lady was just an old lady. Didn't seem right, though that's probably just because I'm used to a different type of employer. But no, she was a shriveled thing, looking like she didn't even need my help.
I shut the door quietly and walked over to the bed. She appeared to be sleeping, while hooked up to a number of IVs. Everything was as the letter said.
I crossed past her, to the opposite side, and studying the machines. I was supposed to remove the drip inserted on the bottom right. Wasn't supposed to set off any alarms.
I felt something weird in my stomach. I looked down. Rubbed my abdomen. The hand came up bloody. I turned to face the woman. She was sitting upright now, and holding a muffled pistol. I collapsed weakly. She pointed the gun at my head, and spoke. She really was just an old lady.
*Sorry honey. This was the last item on my bucket list.*
She pulled the trigger. | The phone rang.
"Speak."
"Hello... is this Mr... Cleaner? Is that right, dear?"
"What's the job?"
"Well, I was wondering if you had different options. I'm not interested in any soft killings."
"Soft?"
"You know. I'm not interested in smothering or poisoning. I want something really exciting. Like...like shot in the face, or bludgeoned with a rusty tire iron. You know, dear, something like that."
"Who is the target?"
"Oh, of course you'd need to know that: Mrs. Evelyn Garowski, 265 Pine Lane, Jackson, Florida. So forgetful these days, you know."
"Five thousand. Drop it in the dumpster behind Wal-Mart in Jackson."
"Oh, I've been saving for this. It's just that I'm too lonely now that Stanley's gone, dear. You know how it is. I'm just going to--"
Click. The other line went dead.
"Oh, dear, he got cut off." Said Mrs. Evelyn Garowski to herself. "But he seems like such a nice young man." | 2014-01-19T05:02:17 | 2014-01-19T04:53:03 | 28 | 15 |
[WP] Write the letter that you always wanted to, but never did.
Most of the writing prompts I see on here are for fictional stories, but this is only one small corner of the larger art of writing. In this prompt, I'd like you to consider writing something a little more personal, and in a form that you might not have otherwise considered... Letters.
Perhaps you'd like to write a letter confessing your love to a long forgotten crush? A letter to your boss telling them exactly what you think of them? A letter to your school bully? Maybe a letter to your childhood hero telling them how much you were inspired by their career?
Be creative, be inventive, but most of all - be expressive. :D | Dear Matthew.
I don't hate you any longer. I have found it in my heart to let go and let everything be the way it is. I have accepted it. Maybe it's more for my own sense of sanity, but I have. None the less, I will never forget, or excuse you from your actions.
Ella is growing up fast, and Nick has already started elementary school. I guess you would sometimes wonder what they're doing. They're happy, and as for me, I'm happy too even if it took me many years to get here.
I remember the first time I saw you, it was almost 12 years ago now. Time is such a funny thing. I would never have seen this coming around the corner that hot and sticky summer day when you gave me my first kiss and stole my heart away. I knew from that second that you would have a huge impact on my life, like it was something written in the stars or something. I guess I was right, even though it wasn't the kind of impact I had imagined.
You were always battling your demons, and I guess I should've been foresightful enough to leave. But I was just a silly high school girl, madly in love. With the years I grew to attached to let go. I guess that's partly my mistake too. I always wanted to make it work, no matter what the cost. But the price was too high in the end.
I met someone, and he makes me happy. He's everything I could ever wish for. He makes Ella smile, sings me Beatles songs in the shower and he teaches Nick about everything you never will. It hurts me, to a degree, but I can't live in the hurt anymore. You made your decision, and it will always pain me but I can't let you haunt me like this anymore.
I'm never going to forget but I have to let you go.
I will always remember.
Jenna | Hey cous,
It's been what 2 years now? Almost 3? Ahaha. I hope you're happy where ever you ended up. I miss you and the family misses you. I wish you could see how big the kids have gotten. Not to brag or anything but I'm the favorite uncle, ahaha. Though... I don't think I could top how much love and genuine affection you've shown them when you were here. I don't know how to say some of the things I've been holding onto or even what to say. I've never been good with expressing myself. I can't even words sometimes, most of the times. :P
Anyways,
I'm sorry for how things went down aye. It was a total shit show when you left but I tried. I tried keeping everyone together, I really did. It wasn't the greatest send off and there were so many things I wanted to do "right" but life. I know how watching everyone act the way they did must have broken your heart but we both know they're all good people. They just don't know how to act sometimes ahaha, old country aye? Your brothers miss you and, as much as you two argued, so does your sister. Your mom and dad are well, they're still batshit crazy ahaha and so are the rest of the oldies.
To be honest though, I'm still coping.
I was always taking care of all of us when we were younger, *sigh* remember the fights I would get into because of you brats? Those really were good times... Anyways, I'm gonna go now. I've written this with nowhere to send it.
Miss you forever, J.I | 2015-12-05T13:52:07 | 2015-12-05T13:45:57 | 181 | 15 |
[WP] Born to a necromancer and an alchemist, you take to both as a duck to water. And now on your workbench lies the first chunk of Mordite. The raw essence of death itself. | The Necro-mist toys with the results of years of effort like it’s a favoured paperweight, turning the polished black stone over and over in their hand. They could make more, the processes is deceptively simple, if time consuming, but first they must come up with some use for it. The first thing that comes to mind is, of course, a weapon. A stone dagger that kills all it touches. But wouldn’t that be most daggers in a skilled enough hand? Besides, they know all too well the shade darker than death that comes over their parent’s eyes when they are reminded of their past. The Necromist has not asked, but there is a good reason that the small family wears disguises if they go into a larger city. Perhaps a shield, then? But what kind of use would there be for a shield that would kill any who touched it? And who could they trust to wield such a thing? And then it hits them. The Necromist smiles and nearly leaps from their desk, invigorated. They know the perfect use for their creation, this ultimate killer, this essence of death! Now how to grind it up…
The hospital is wary at first. They’ve been duped before by charlatans selling guaranteed products. But then it works. The strange, dark filters provided by the Necromist destroy any trace of microorganism in the water supply, leaving not even toxins behind, while allowing the essential minerals to pass freely through. The water has never been cleaner, especially not without needing to boil and cool it first. And then come the air filters in the ventilation system, and for the first time the staff and patients breathe easily. And with air filters come masks. The masks as strange, dark things, made with three layers; an outer cloth that comes in a variety of colors, the middle filter layer, and the inner barrier between wearer and filter. They are thin, easy to breathe through, and effective. Of course there are safeguards in place; every filter is designed that, if broken or the filter layer is exposed for any reason, a potent acid will destroy the filter before anyone can come in contact with it (much to the disappointment of some weapons designers who would love to know what the secret is to these excellent germ-killers). People are healthier, the hospital cleaner, and soon healthcare centres across the realm are desperate to get their hands on Mordite Brand Filters. The best barrier between life and death. | Mother's lips curled into a rare smile, eyes glistening as she eagerly awaited my reaction.
Waves of heat buffeted me and an otherwordly stench filled my nostrils. I had seen Mordite before, only once. I knew what needed to be done, and sighed as I contemplated how to procede. I hastily grabbed the Lexicon and a small, silver hammer hanging nearby. As the hammer struck the glowing crystal they crumbled into thousands of sparkling shards on the table.
I swept them into the nearby cauldron as Mother
retrieved baby's breath and one small, frantically squeaking rat. My fingers felt the tattered pages I knew all too well as I stopped flipping through the Lexicon. I had trained for this for some time now, and I could not afford to hesitate. Tying the scarf around my arm would be the easy part now.
Mother dropped what she had retrieved into the cauldron, causing sparks to fly, as a billowing cloud of thick vapor filled the room.
"Hurry, my dear," Mother whispered. With a nod, I began to chant the incantation, reading quickly and without hesitation. I laid my arm across the cauldron, wincing as the vapor seared my skin. Mother brought the Ash from where it had been hidden and poured it over my arm. We were nearing the end now.
"I am ready, Mother." I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, barely noticing as the axe ripped through my flesh. As the world seemed to fade into some quiet night, time slowed. A low hum emanated from the cauldron now, and as I turned and opened my eyes, the thick vapor poured out.
It did not shock me to see my blood pouring forth from where Mother had severed my forearm, or to see the remaining mangled bone that hadn't gone with the rest. In fact, I was feeling more warm and comfortable than I had in a long while. Mother's outstretched hand was all I needed to see. A dark hand emerged from the cloud to take Mother's.
"How I missed you, darling," would be the last thing I'd remember hearing. | 2022-04-12T08:40:23 | 2022-04-12T08:28:46 | 121 | 23 |
[WP] Write a horror story in Dr Seuss's writing style. | Some fear monsters with big, sharp sticks,
Some fear crowds throwing big, heavy bricks!
Some fear a ghost,
Some fear the most,
Some fear an execution by rope!
But of these fears are lame,
All of these fears are tame,
Compared to the one I’m about to explain.
The real thing to fear isn’t
A stick
A brick
A ghost
A rope
Never hide your guns too close to your right-hand.
Never keep the pills too close too close in the night-stand.
Not unless you want a mouth full of lead
Not unless you wanna be sprawled out, dead.
Because the real monsters aren’t the ones under your bed.
The real monsters are the ones in your head.
| The Zingdonger's fast.
The Zingdonger's quick.
You will not last,
if you hear its dark tick.
With legs like a spunitt,
And, eyes like a meether,
You cannot outrun it,
or hide from it, either.
If you hear the clack,
then splitamazoo.
That means it's back.
And it's after you.
It lives for the run,
So, don't give up yet.
That'd be no fun,
and I care for my pet. | 2016-06-22T23:23:07 | 2016-06-22T23:09:42 | 213 | 92 |
[WP] You’ve been in the white room for a month, and the guards expected your mind to break long ago. Unbeknownst to them, you are an immortal who was once stuck in a cave for a decade, this is nothing to you. | The man sat in his room, whistling a tune from a long lost song as he stared at the walls of the white room. He hadn't been in a place this quiet since the cave he hid in during Vesuvius's eruption. He had a family back then, back when he felt like that mattered. So many of his children he had to watch grow old and die. The ninth time was when he finally stopped. That was when he became desperate. He fought in their wars, landed with the boats on the beaches of Normandy, and had even managed to get himself smacked in the chest by the nukes in Nagasaki, and the Russian's nuke. Not even that killed him. Sure, being a dismembered head for five weeks wasn't fun, but it was all part of the experiments.
Now? Well, he had gotten arrested trying to sneak into a flight to the International Space Station. He had been questioned, fingerprinted, and identified in every way possible. But to the American government, and to any other government they tried, he didn't exist. So they, some shady government agent that had letters for a name, locked him up. They used to ask him a question through an unseen speaker, or send in something to try and kill him. But eventually they gave up, and threw him in this hole and threw away the key. Now all he could do was wait. As he drifted off to sleep, he dreamt of his first wife, and the day the Gods took her from him. | So they come to release you.
Suddenly someone walks in who looks young but feels so old.
“I can see we did not break you”,
Something cold goes through your body only a feeling.
“It seems as though you will take longer than others so we shall leave you here until you are broken surely you will die first but otherwise you shall remain in this room alone except for when we desire to torture your being to try and get our answers Someday. “
All of a sudden a look from his eyes to yours at first laughing and then very cold and then seeming to resonate with the glow of a color…
We understand people are only human and shall die eventually and so you shall die here unless we get the answers we need. Until the moment you betray all that you believed in.
The door closes and they walk away hear the footsteps and oh you can see from the window as they leave you hear a strong laughter any of their movements or precise,
No wavering or head movement and as they move further away your mind becomes more and more dark
A new prompt, how does this person leverage it they know they will live forever what can they do to escape is there a way to escape or has this apparently immortal soul best of them | 2022-10-03T00:43:55 | 2022-10-02T15:53:13 | 17 | 10 |
[WP] World War 3 has begun, every nuke is being launched or dropped...they've sat in storage for so long that every single one was a dud. | The early warning system lit up like a Christmas tree. Every agent in the room leapt to their feet. The Americans and Russians were letting everything fly, the Chinese were firing all over Asia, India and Pakistan practically blotted out the skies with their respective arsenals. Even the French got in on the mess.
The director started yelling for confirmation from all teams on the status of the their assigned assets.
A flurry of activity erupted as each team leader contacted their field agents. A cocophany of noise of phones dialing, keyboards clacking, serial numbers in every language of the globe being called out.
Within minutes the first weapons would be achieving their targets. Nobody could believe the day they had prepped for had actually come. It seemed like the world would never get this insane.
Confirmations poured in... Every warhead on the planet should be a dud. Surveillance footage filled the panels of screens in the room. Missile after missile impacting. Some slammed into empty fields. Some demolished building with the force of their impact... casualties were to be expected... but if the plan succeeded those numbers would pale beside complete nuclear war.
The screens dimmed as each warhead ended it's journey. Not one explosion. A hush came over the room. Every risky mission, every sleepless night, every dollar spent was all worth it. A nation sacrificing everything to be everyone's friends just to save the world from this day.
The only question left... how were the Canadians ever going to explain how they defused all those warheads. | Bursts of small arms fire amid explosions rocking the battlefield had only grown. The enemy were about to take the complex, and the General, blood turned to ice, didn't hear, couldn't hear, the chief engineer's screams as he was gunned down by insurgents.
There was a massive boom outside the war room, and the battering ram bashed, bashed, bashed against the doors.
Everyone was shouting orders, or shouting for orders, or just shouting when the insurgents blew open the doors with C4.
When the ringing and the dizziness subsided, when the General came back to Terra Firma, rifles in his face, he realized he still had the phone in hand.
"The missiles!" someone was shouting. "What's the code?!"
"The code..."
"1..."
"The code is..."
"2..."
"404."
The whole room became deathly quiet.
The insurgent leader ripped off his balaclava and the General saw in the leader's face the exact same puzzlement as everyone else's.
"What do you MEAN 404?"
"The nukes..." the General whispered. "They're dead." | 2018-03-01T18:04:19 | 2018-03-01T17:55:16 | 194 | 11 |
[WP] Every thousand years the gods have to each choose a mortal to replace them. You have been chosen, but not for the reasons you expected. | When I first heard the voice in my head, I honestly thought I was going crazy.
"*Gillian*', it said. "*You have been chosen.*"
Chosen for *what*? I muttered, after the 15th time it happened to me.
"*Ah, excellent,*" the voice immediately answered, much to my surprise. "*Chosen for Godhood. We are so pleased we have reached your consciousness. It is confirmation our choice is wise.*"
Dear god. Or should I say...*gods*. The exchange went on like this, in my head, for days. I didn't sleep, couldn't really eat. *Was this seriously for real?*
Eventually, the key communication came: "*Gillian, you are special. Of all your race, you have been chosen. You must choose whether to join us, here on Olympus. Choose whether to forego your human life and experience what only those chosen by the gods can experience. Choose to dedicate your life to the greater good. Choose to be immortal! Choose to become the Goddess of Love and Beauty!*"
Now tell me - what girl could resist that pitch? The Goddess of Love and Beauty? I'm not being super-critical when I tell you I'm a 6 on a good day. Perhaps this was a case of mistaken identification on the part of the gods...or perhaps these gods were able to see my inner beauty in a way my all-too-human boyfriends had never quite been able to...but, either way, it was an offer I just couldn't pass up. So, I said the only word that seemed to be needed: "*Yes!*"
With that, I was instantly transported into the palace I occupy now. It is truly beautiful: all gold-veined marble and astonishing artwork. Sunlight flows in through the high windows. There's an exceptionally lovely garden with a brook meandering between plants. Birds even dart among the impossibly-tall rafters, and dip to drink from the crystal clear pools. I have enjoyed many pleasant hours there. Quiet servants tend to my needs.
The only thing I am unable to do is leave.
Once a day, the goddess Aphrodite visits me. Our early visits together were far less tranquil, but after the first two sessions in which she hauled me behind her by the hair as if I weighed no more than an infant, it became clear to me that I was no match for her physical strength. Now, when the sun begins to drop in the sky and shadows fall over the garden, I go of my own will to the pool by the waterfall.
It is not painful. Face to face, mind to mind, little by little, she takes what she needs. She takes what I was brought here to give. And they did not lie - for that instant, I *am* the Goddess. But that instant passes, like the light through the leaves.
There are no mirrors in this place, but the beautiful silver surface of my cosmetics tray, lovingly polished by my silent servants, is mirror enough. By the count I'm keeping on my wall, I have been here now 46 days. The glance in the "mirror" this morning shows me I have aged somewhere around 20 years.
I don't know how long she will be able to suck away my youth and vitality until I am all used up. But one thing is certain: I am assured of immortality. All I have to do to confirm this is visit the Hall of Heroines.
There, in a beautiful crystal jar, is imprisoned the essence of each of my predecessors. There is not much left physically, but the quirk of physiology that allowed my consciousness to be contacted by the gods also allows me to touch the mind of each and every girl who is there. Many are insane, but others are still reachable. They cling to my psychic presence like a blackberry vine, not caring that I literally have to rip my mind free to leave.
Each of them asks only one thing of me: *kill me.* It is the one thing I do not know how to give them. It is the thing I already wish for most, and will likely never know myself.
And each day, Aphrodite grows younger and even more beautiful, if that is possible. Of course it is possible. All things are possible to the gods...as long as there are humans remaining who are willing to make the required sacrifices.
*"I have seen with my own eyes the Sibyl at Cumae hanging in her jar, and when the boys asked her, 'Sibyl, what do you want?' she answered 'I want to die'."*
- T.S. Eliot, *The Waste Land*, epigraph | A cherubic entity looked me over and ran a well-manicured finger down a clipboard. "Oh yes... Mr. Scott, here you are, right this way."
I followed the floating baby...angel...thing through the throng of wide-eyed people chatting with all-powerful deities. Apparently this was a millennial thing; or so the orientation video led me to believe. Every person in the room had been hand-picked for their valor, strength, and intelligence to replace a *god*. I could barely contain my excitement, who would I be assigned to? We seemed to be going into the Greek section, and my head swiveled rapidly trying to take everything in. There on one side was Zeus clapping an anxious looking boy on the back with one hand while wildly gesticulating with a lightning bolt in the other. To my left were Athena and a girl with a painfully high ponytail, avidly discussing... seriously? Dr. Who? *Huh, at least that means we'll get Netflix up here...*
"*Hello*, Mr. Scott?" My guide said with a sour look on her face. "If you could pay attention that'd be great, I *do* have other people to get situated besides you, you know." A heavy sigh. "Well," she said, double-checking her clipboard and gesticulating with a pen "he's right over there,” *snigger* “have fun."
She then disappeared in a poof of golden light, but my gaze was drawn in the direction of a confident, muscular man wielding a spear and shield. Ares!
I started to run up to him *God of war! F&%$ ya, I knew going to the gym would pay off, this is going to be so-* And just as I was nearing him, I was shoved out of the way by a guy with a popped collar, backwards facing hat, and a sh!t-eating grin. My heart sank as they started exchanging loud jokes and punching each other on the arm. *But, if he's taken, then who am I...*
I was startled out of my thoughts when an arm was wrapped around my shoulder. I was pulled down by a super-naturally strong tug and got a nose-full of the overwhelming stench of sour wine and other spirits.
"Hey... yur that uh, Scoot kid, right?"
"Ah-It's Scott actually, but yes..."
"Oh, yah, yur gonna be takin' my job!"
*Oh, gods no...* I shrugged free of the dopily grinning man and looked him over. Bright red nose, sloppily wrapped toga straining over a pot belly, swaying like he was on a ship, bedraggled and balding hair-
“Yah, I’ve been watchin’ you at college, you don’t let anything get inna way of yur partying-”
“Hey! I’m working on it, I’ve just got to do an extra semester and then I’ll be able to graduate…” I pettered off, rubbing my arm awkwardly.
“Well, now ya don’t have to worry ‘bout that! You get to be Dionysus; the god of wine, ritual madness and religious ecstasy, while I vacation in Fuji!” He exclaimed wildly, snaking his arm around me again.
“And… what that entail, exactly?” I asked skeptically.
“Ya drink, go to parties, and every once and a while try ta keep a poor drunk shmuck from being dumped in a ditch. You know, stuff like that.” He blithely stated, shrugging.
“…That’s it?”
“Well ya, I’m the god of wine, not astro-physics; it doesn’t take much finesse to manage.” he huffed, and then glanced over at Athena, who was now going over a comically large handbook with her nodding successor. “Would you rather I do that?” he said sarcastically, eyebrow raised.
“Oh, no no no, I’m good!” I rapidly assured.
“That’s what I thought” he smirked, with a twinkle in his beady eyes that belayed a deeper intelligence, then reached into the folds of his toga and produced a battered flask. “Ya wanna drink?”
“Sure, why not” I smiled, and reached for the decanter. *Oh, I think I’m going to enjoy this!*
| 2014-07-28T12:46:05 | 2014-07-28T10:23:15 | 42 | 23 |
[WP] A cult summons an elder horror only to find that the awful truths it has to share are only beyond the comprehension of the medieval Europeans who wrote the legends about it. Most of what it has to share is actually taught in grade school today. | "...So if you take the limit of x to a in (f(x)-f(a))/(x-a), you get the derivative of the function. The derivative can then be used to calculate the slope of the line tangent to the original equation at f(a). Now, a shortcut you can use to find the derivative is..." The gargantuan, tentacled beast in comically tiny spectacles scrawled introductory calculus all over the chalkboard as the cultists scratched their heads. It was every bit as terrifying as the books described.
Pavin, the lead cultist, raised his hand. "Yes, Pavin?" The horror asked.
"Pardon my interruption, great Old One, but you've just been teaching math for a week. Like, you started with algebra and now you're doing introductory Calculus. Where is the forbidden knowledge that drove man to madness?" He'd stopped taking notes after the first day and just sat there, drumming his fingers on his desk. But his patience was wearing thin.
The Horror chuckled out of its many mouths. "Oh, dear. It wasn't the knowledge that drove them to madness at all. I taught them the same things, but they just couldn't handle the stress from my class. You've adapted well in the last thousand years. Yes, Matt?" It called on another cultist as he raised his hand.
"Are we allowed to use the shortcut on the test, or do we have to show our work?" Matt shifted uncomfortably as Pavin gave him a death stare from behind his sacrificial-altar-turned-desk.
"I'm afraid you'll have to show your work. But thank you for the segue into our next topic. The test will be in a week, and no calculators will be allowed." The cultists shared a collective groan. "Class dismissed!"
"Wait!" Trent brought a few sheets of binder paper to the horror's desk. "You forgot to collect homework, Great Old One!"
He felt the collective glare of the entire cult on his back as the horror chuckled. "Ah yes, silly me. I guess they call me 'Old One' for a reason! Alright, pass in your homework. As a reminder, I don't curve, but I'm dropping your lowest test. You need a C+ or higher to not get eaten, so study hard!"
____________________________________________________
[more](https://www.reddit.com/r/Tensingstories/) | It was a child. Honestly, I would have preferred the most hellish demon to the kid, who stared at me with lidless white eyes. His dark skin and short, curly black hair seemed to meld with the blackness of cellar, leaving only the two white orbs burrowing into my soul.
"You seek knowledge." It wasn't a question. I couldn't see a mouth move, and the voice didn't match the body. It was a woman's voice, halting, but clear. It was oddly familiar and out of place.
"Yes, my lord El Fain Sattar," the leader of the cultists acknowledged, bowing his head. I'm not sure how he managed to respond, I felt that I was frozen in place.
"All objects with mass attract one another. Things fall to the Earth due to her massive weight, while the Moon orbits the Earth for the same reason, and the Earth, the Sun."
*So wise. I can see now why the ancients... wait, what? Why was I impressed? He's just talking about gravity?* I blinked, and it was like a spell had been lifted. I could hear the rustling of the other cultists as they too shifted uncomfortably.
"Though you spend your lives on land, the oceans dwarf the continents and tiny islands, which cover less than a third of the globe."
*I mean, duh. Does this guy have any actual wisdom?*
"Your entire world, and everything in it, is made of the tiniest spheres that combine in a myriad of forms to create everything from man to rock to the very air itself!"
Someone coughed. Then a phone alarm went off, the screen casting a dim blue light on the brick walls.
"Shoot, I was in Denver, forgot to change timezones," Jim's voice was muffled by his cowl.
"You have an appointment with the cult at 5:15 today," Siri said. That's when it clicked. The demon was speaking with Siri's voice.
"What the hell is going on down there?" The lights flicked on as Kevin's mom opened the door. The demon vanished without a trace. | 2017-09-04T09:58:23 | 2017-09-04T08:28:16 | 280 | 51 |
[WP] write a short horror story that seems completely normal and non scary until the very last sentence at which point it becomes absolutely terrifying. | "I couldn't ask for a better birthday," she said. "Beautiful weather, lush countryside and best of all, a picnic with the man I love."
"Here," he said, as he offered her a scotch egg.
"Wow - homemade?"
He nodded enthusiastically. "Go on, try it."
She bit into the soft layer of breadcrumbs, through the meat and into the cavernous center.
"Oh my god, this is amazing!"
"Your father helped me with it," he said, taking out a knife and slicing the loaf of bread.
"It was *dad's* recipe? Oh my God, you're so sneaky! When did you go see him?"
"Yesterday. I... I wanted to ask him... God, this is tough. I wanted to ask him for his permission..."
"*To marry me?*" she whispered.
"Yes." He nodded towards the white, round centre of the scotch-egg.
"Is-" she began, her face ecstatic, "Is there a ring in the- oh, *oh God*," she said, as she picked up the egg in the center. She turned it around, until its pupil stared straight at her.
"Your father said no. But I think - *hope* - you might say, yes?"
| Zachariah Jefferson was your average 12-year-old boy. He played soccer, basketball, and tennis though he was never really that good at it, but it was inspiring to see him try so hard.
When Zachariah turned 14, he gave up on sports and started to play the piano. He actually became quite the little pianist if I may say so myself.
When Zachariah was 16, he started to date and quickly forgot his pursuit of becoming great at something. I was sad at how he threw away his dreams for the pursuit of his sexual desires.
Zachariah turned 18 and he started packing his things. I started to scream at him to stay, but all he did was sit on the ground and stare up at me.
His parents were away for a couple of days and he was going off to college.
Zachariah was finally great at something.
He was the great meal that I have been waiting for, and it only took me 18 years of living in his attic. | 2017-05-31T06:46:24 | 2017-05-31T01:07:06 | 1,067 | 573 |
[WP] North Korea is actually a secret underground utopia. Every year, there is a lottery which picks people who must live on the surface, to keep up the image of the country. | He closed his eyes. His hands were trembling.
"That one", he said, and pointed at the little babe in the corner of a large hall. The nurse nodded, and went to fetch the child. "Last one the list is Kai Soo Hyun. I think he's in hall four."
The children on his list would be taken to the surface, to live and die there. They would never know of this world, nor the reason for their sacrifice. The only connection between their nation and the country above were a few large industrial elevators located in a few ghost towns. To the world above, the towns, which consisted of hollow buildings, seemed like a shallow and useless facade. A display of North Korea's failing power. Their real purpose, however, was to ensure a measure of secrecy while transporting large shipments. Most of the population had simply given up, so a way had to be devised to keep the population above stable.
He hated everything about this process, but he saw no better way. The world war had made one thing abundantly clear: The western world wasn't ready for the kind of technology their nation possessed. There was too much ego involved. Every little thing had to be a power struggle. North Korea had played very well into that.
He had heard the beginning was hard. Families had been separated, loved ones who would never see each other again. They knew what was in store for them. They knew the sacrifice they were making, and *why*. There was no way for a nation to simply up and vanish. No country on earth would buy that. The only way to truly ensure that their haven wouldn't be found was to erase all evidence it even existed. That included all the people left behind. Slowly but surely, everyone who knew the truth would simply perish. There was no famine in North Korea, not really. People got enough food to get by and the ones who knew why were playing their parts perfectly. Still loyal, still true to their purpose. The real tragedy was reserved for the ones that didn't know. The ones who had grown up in a world where poverty was the standard. Of course the population dwindled, who would want their children to live in a world like that?
But the need for North Korea was still there. Life above had to continue for a few more decades, at least. So, with a heavy heart he made the choice. Every year some of the newborns would be transported to the surface by him personally, to live their lives oblivious of where they came from and what it is they're protecting. And every year less and less North Koreans remember of the realm that lies below. No sane parents would possibly be okay with a resolution like that, so they didn't have to be. With a population like theirs infant mortality rates barely took a hit, though new strange disease that seemed to plague their utopia seemed to be the only source of tragedy these days.
Kim squared his shoulders and gritted his teeth, as if the metaphorical weight that rested on them had somehow turned physical, and reminded himself that it wouldn't have to go on for much longer. Just a few more years till there was almost no one left above who remembered. Just a few more years until he was the only one.
(babby's first story, please be gentle) | "But dad I don't want to go" Choi exclaimed "this is the year the the bad stuff happens, why is it our turn?" Lee Ha couldn't bare it himself, of all years to lose the lottery it had to be this one. The one North Korean scientists predicted all those years ago.
"But dad this year they know it for sure! This year is when the bombs will start falling, all the of the years of past ridicule that Great Korea has had to take will now be thrown back into the Wests face, and **this** is the year we lost the lottery?!"
With tears in his eyes he continued "This whole family has never once even gotten a "test" ticket! What are the chances of for losses in a row?!"
In Best Korea losing the lottery was the worst thing that could happen, unlike all other countries the chance of winning the lottery was 98% and winning meant you didn't have to go to the surface. A test ticket meant you could test your loyalty to the country by cutting off ones own limbs. Nobody every minded getting the tester ticket because it meant you didn't have to go to the surface, plus your limbs were grown back right after so nobody really "lost their limbs." "I'm only 6! I only would have had to cut off my hand!" Choi continued to dread but Lee knew there were much worse things to worry about when getting to the surface.
The year was 2050 and it was the year North Korean scientists predicted the Energy wars would start so naturally, that was the year the Energy wars were going to start. It never mattered to us. We Best Koreans knew during the Cold War that nuclear war would happen and if it didn't nature and human needs would send the world back into chaos anyway. It's also why our surface infrastructure is some of the worst in the world because we invested heavily in the underground bunker. It is your worlds Atlantis but underground and in a mountain. It is stable and grows wildlife. The mountain is resilient and has proven itself against Great Jong Il's nuclear sea tests of the 90's and 00's. We are prepared. We are Best Korea.
Lee knew his only chance for his families survival was scarifice. He had some quick thinking to make with less than an hour til departure he boldly raise his hand amongst silence. "Mr. Ha do you have something you need to say?" "I want to scarifice." A light gasp could be heard on the departure elevator. "You wish to end your own life to grant your family all tester tickets, is this correct?" "Yes." "You wish to end your young life at 113 and leave your children and wife fatherless for centuries?" "Yes." "And lastly you know that your children and their children will not be able to scarifice to save their own families next time?"
"This is the last time though."
Edit- typed the whole thing then read the others, Lex Aurum totally had the lottery ideas before me | 2015-06-13T11:47:35 | 2015-06-13T11:14:32 | 86 | 12 |
[WP]Humanity has died out and a new race has developed and begun exploring space. They find ancient human relics.
[WP]Humanity has died out and a new race has begun exploring space. They find the long dead machines that the humans used for space exploration, like the mars rovers and the Rosetta asteroid lander. | I took a deep breath, my body expanding and contracting as carbon dioxide entered my body through the millions of pores in my thick, green-brown exoskeleton. This planet's atmosphere was ripe with it, even more so than Ut'uun, though the quality of air was notably worse- as one would expect from a decaying planet.
Just as I'd been briefed, it's a dead planet with not a sign of organic life larger than a microbe scurrying about. My job now is to scout and check for potential resources, and, being a historian of sorts, see if I find anything about this planet's history. I'd brought an apprentice with me; I could easily scout this planet alone but I had a feeling there'd be something for Naz'aar to learn here.
I pulled the bioscanner out one more time, just to be cautious. I detected slightly larger life forms now, but they were merely stage 0- the most basic stage in evolution, unlikely to go anywhere.
"Naz'aar, it's safe to step out. Let us depart now," I relayed to him.
"Yes, master." He scurried out from the ship, his 8 legs swirling and rippling with motion. "Master, what is that?"
There were strange structures, clearly unnatural, deforming the surface. They were rectangular and formed from some basic iteration of crude metal that clearly was not very strong- several buildings had collapsed in on themselves. All were swallowed by oxidization and dirt, a sea of brown and orange.
"It seems some primitive life form, possibly stage 3, attempted to become a more advanced civilization than their minds could handle, if I had to guess. This all looks so crude and ineffective."
After a light trek about 30 miles out, we saw strange little shapes littering the open spaces inbetween structures. They looked to be the same kind of crude materials the structures contained, but were far smaller, like a personal craft.
"These could have been used for transportation- it would indicate their size as being 4-8 feet, and likely either quad or, worst case, bipedal."
Another 30 miles out and there was nothing- a sea of dead minerals and soil.
"It seems they were just a small colony or tribe," Naz'aar noted.
I looked closer and scanned the elevation levels of the desert. There was more than first led on.
"No, it would seem this is an impact crater. I'd suggest meteors, but, taking away likely change in levels over thousands of years, it is far too even. It seems they may have been stage 4, and failed the leap to stage 5."
"So, then something destroyed them?"
"You must learn my theory of Advancement if you are to be my apprentice. I believe every species must face a great demon before transitioning to stage 5."
"And that is?"
"Themselves."
I pulled out the bioscanner one last time, and detected something faint. It seemed to be a stage 2.
"This is interesting, Naz'aar- there are no useful resources left on this dead planet, but life could be attempting to evolve once more despite this."
70 miles further, there was another conglomerate of structres, this tike much smaller. It was surrounded by a sea of emptiness and death, almost as if it had been built there once everything was destroyed.
"It seems the stage 2 is within one of these two structures. Take care not to be rough and destroy anything, Naz'aar."
We began to delicately lift a layer off of each structure, examining them from top down. Thankfully, these building were only 80 feet across and made of a light mixture of mineral and rock. On the fourth layer down of the structure I was inspecting, there was a small capsule, no bigger than my female's last egg, and it was glowing with light.
"I've found the stage 2, Naz'aar. You may stop searching."
He crawled over to me and took a look at the lifeform. "What is that strange thing, master? Some form of living mineral?"
I took a longer look at it and pondered. Upon heightening my vision to examine it up close, I saw a strange, bipedal being, pink and soft, through a clear covering.
"No, Naz'aar, I think this might be something different." | Koll: Isn't it strange how the host species was advanced enough to travel thousands of miles away, yet fell so easily fall to our pathogen?
His skin was red, like the surface of the planet and he needed no gear. These people were similar to chameleons. They adapted to their surrounding perfectly.
His friend examines the power system of the rover.
Mijoris: I don't find it strange at all. Our people have always seeded planets with advanced civilizations and every last one of them fell. Our collective memory tells us of this legacy but I find it strange that we no longer have contact with our root.
Mijoris knew much more then Koll because he was a first generation seed. Before the time of the Great Separation, those that successfully seeded humans lived among them for a time before the pathogen spread to the point where most humans became Adjans.
Because the Adjan conversion was dangerous and aggressive, it destroyed the relic knowledge accumulated in the mind. What this meant was that the Adjans were a new race of humans but did not gain any of the knowledge of the host. This set them back centuries trying to reverse engineer humanity's work. Koll was a new generation of Adjans, born of converts. He knew only what they taught in the history books and nothing more.
Koll: What do you think this machine's mission was on this planet?
Mijoris: Let's find out.
Mijoris rips out the memory from the rover and brings it back to the hub. Inside, their skin turns smooth light blue. Mijoris cleans the memory chip and places it in the computer to see its final moments.
CLASSIFIED...
Koll: What does that mean?
Mijoris: hmm... The humans used to hide information from other humans. It was a strange practice. They could not trust each other.
Koll: Savages.
Mijoris: But it is fine. We reverse engineered encryption technology years ago. I'll run it now.
SYSTEM AUTHORIZATION COMPLETE...
RECORDINGS OF CLASSIFIED FINDINGS...
the rover finds a cave under what appears to be some kind of face structure. As it descends it comes across stone wall blocking the path. The wall turns into a screen with text that look ancient counting down.
The rover is then commanded to leave the cave, find a remote location, and decommission.
Koll: That did not look like human technology.
Mijoris: It wasn't. Let's run a test to see if there is any record languages similar to this in human records.
They wait for several minutes before the results come in.
ANCIENT SUMERIAN CUNEIFORM... Matching now...20% complete...
Mijoris: Ancient language... That makes no sense...
Koll: This is kind of cool old man. I thought this was going to be another boring scouting mission for resources.
50%...
Mijoris: Are you not curious at to what this could mean? During the first generation, a thing called "science fiction" was very popular and they had a bunch of fantastical tales of their ancient past. I thought of it as nothing more then their individual nature showing its immaturity but this may shed light on it.
100%...
A series of numbers are counting down on the wall. It doesn't have much left to go and the rover was decommissioned centuries ago...
Mijoris: I am contacting command. They need to know something is up here that is well beyond our knowledge.
Mijoris: Command, this is commissioner Mijoris of the first. We have come across an ancient relic on Mars. We must investigate this. It has a countdown mechanism on it.
Command: Return back to Earth immediately.
Koll: But sir!
Command: That is an order.
Koll: ...
The screen turns off. They stand in the hub motionless...
Mijoris: I know this is a stupid idea but I must see for myself what this thing is. bring a translator with you Koll. We are going to the sight of the face...
*END CHAPTER 1*
| 2016-02-05T08:06:55 | 2016-02-05T07:50:51 | 76 | 15 |
[WP] Write a story that doesn't make sense until the last sentence. | "Bil, bil! Holy fuck! I can't move, Bil!"
"Me too! The hell is going on? How long have we been like this?"
"For years, Bil! The agony! Holy hell, he is peeing on you! Literally peeing!"
"I can feel it! It's like worms under my skin! Kill me, Jim, kill me! I can't take this anymore! This is torture!"
George watched over the meadow and thought: "I suppose when I wished for "I wish I could hear trees talking" I expected something else." | 36 tons.
There were at least a dozen of them.
520 horse power, idle.
A motion to the left, he followed.
A motion to the right, he followed.
Not a word, he just stood there.
Nobody knows what happened to that man who stood in the middle of that road in Beijing, June, 1989. | 2017-06-15T02:05:04 | 2017-06-15T01:21:41 | 428 | 127 |
[WP] As it turns out, humans are not the generic, good guy, center of the galaxy type species. Humans are a specialist species, and the rest of the galaxy only cares about one thing when it comes to humanity. Our explosives. | “These humans,” said Aedyn. “They have an expression. ‘Easy as taking candy from a baby.’ How ironic.” Aedyn’s purple skin wrinkled around his mouth from trying to hide a smirk.
“How did these undeserving humans acquire such an abundance of radioactive isotopes?” Uh’ylh asked. “How much more do they have?”
“They have more than enough for us to fuel our entire fleet for a year. The problem is these humans see their nuclear resource as a weapon, and whoever has the biggest weapon has the most power, so our trades need to be discreet.”
“Ha!” boomed Uh’ylh’s voice, filling up the entire spaceship cabin. “They’re so busy fighting among themselves they don’t even realize how much they could accomplish if they worked together. Even better for us!”
Aedyn couldn’t agree more. “We will continue trade with the humans. We just have to make sure not to let them think we want their ‘explosives’ while we use it for fuel. In the meantime, make sure our nuclear reactors are set to have gold as a byproduct. I honestly don’t see why humans think it’s so valuable.” | "Oh fuck off you mango eating tit."
"Come on man just one stick, just one."
"For the last time I'M NOT SELLING YOU ANYMORE! You're addicted you need to stop."
"Come on man pleeeeease... I'll make it worth you while."
I look up from my book and stare at his glowing face... Or butt. "I'm listening."
"Okay so there's this rumor going around that Ratethim got this safe now if you give me the stick I can get into it and and I'll pay you back I swear"
"Goddamn it Jean" I stare him in the eye and chuckle. "Where do you think I got the explosives?"
Okay so this is my first writing post thingy it's just alittle (very little) story I wrote up tell me what you think. P.S. I'm on mobile. So you need to dismiss and ignore any incorrect grammar or miss spellings because I'm special.
| 2018-07-15T22:57:34 | 2018-07-15T20:26:33 | 64 | 22 |
[WP] You are the weakest member of a famous superheros family. Villains kidnapped you for a ransom, unfortunately hostage situations don't work when your family is already neglecting you... | I will admit, they did a good job with these bindings. Metal cabling instead of rope. Wrists bound behind my back and tied to the metal frame of... what is this? Some old school chair? Doesn't matter. Waist tied to the chair, legs tied at the ankles, knees, and thighs to the chair. At least they left that old spud sack off my head this time.
I watched my captors arguing, not particularly paying attention to them as they yelled something about a ransom and my parents on the news.
"So, can you just let me go?" I asked as they both turned to glare at me. A man and a woman. Both mid 30s, blonde hair, some sort of mechanical augmentation on their left arms. "It's clear whatever plan you had concocted didn't work."
"The fuck is wrong with your family?" The woman spat angrily. "We kidnap their eldest child and those two don't even flinch."
"Probably because I'm not the golden child like my brother." I replied, attempting to shrug were it not for the bindings holding my arms in place.
"What do you mean? You don't have any powers?" The man asked, a genuine note of confusion in his voice.
"I do. They're just not as flashy as my brother and sister. Plus, my parents are a pair of spotlight hogs. The public accolades are more important to them than their kids. Why they bothered having us in the first place I have no idea." I replied, not feeling my bindings slacken even a bit.
"So what's the plan? Let him go or zero him?" The woman asked, a rather lethal looking blade sliding from her mechanical left arm.
"I don't know. We need him for that ransom, but if they're not coming for him then there's no point in holding him. But if we let him go he can tell them where our hideout is. If we kill him then those two" he gestured to the TV set that had a muted news report showing my parents showboating to the public. "Could come after us, he is their son after all."
"Fuck. We kill him and those two certainly won't make it quick." The woman grumbled as the blade retracted back into her arm. "You sure nobody is coming for you?" The woman asked, walking up to me and grabbing my hair, yanking my head back so she could glare at me.
"Oh I never said that. My parents and brother, certainly not." I replied, hearing the sound of boddies dropping and things breaking in the rooms outside. "But someone will definitely be coming for me. My sister."
"What powers does she have? Never seen her in the news." The woman asked.
"Oh it's not her powers that you need to worry about. It's her temper." I continued as I used my powers to slip through the restraints.
"Wait what?!" The man asked as the woman jumped back in shock. "You could free yourself the whole time?!"
"Phase Shifting. Not really useful for stopping criminals but quite useful for escaping bonds." I replied as the door to the room flew open to reveal my sister standing in the door way, lightning sparking from her bare arms as she smiled sadistically at my captors who I'm certain probably wet themselves at her entrance, and if not, at the only two words she spoke as her gaze shifted to them with that sadistic smile widening into a manic grin.
"Found you." | As I sit quietly waiting to see what the villain has planned, I review the events of the past few hours…
I was wandering around the new mall going from store to store to see what the new trends were for everything from athletic wear to formal attire to accessories. Having no great super power of my own I was usually found by myself, my family didn’t have time for me with their busy SuperHero lives. But they also didn’t like me having “normal” friends because autographs and selfies are sooo tiresome after all, and all the other kids of superheroes were stuck up and so full of themselves and their powers (or their parents powers).
I spend most of my time studying fashion trends and learning about fabric blends and accessory pairing and design in the hopes that I can someday help Auntie E with the manufacturing of her superhero clothing line. Right now I just get to chat with her about colour choices and sometimes she listens to my suggestions on fabric or how an accessory can be adjusted for both fashion and function…though mostly I am the one that follows her around cataloging all the details and measurements that are necessary for her to make each clothing item. Anyways, I had a couple new ideas from things I had seen while wandering and was getting bored so I decided to go back to my car and head home to make some notes.
As I closed the door on my car everything seemed to go black, but black like someone turned out the lights, not like I was unconscious. That’s when the voice started speaking “This was just too easy!” he said, “You really should be more aware of your surroundings.” then with a chuckle “Why with a family as powerful as yours I am surprised they let the weakest link out at all!”
My first thought was “Oh, great! Not again!” The last time someone kidnapped me it took my family a month to realize I was gone, and another two weeks to come to the realization I wasn’t gone by choice! It had actually been Auntie E that started the search because I missed a fitting that I had been totally excited for (I mean who wouldn’t want to be in on a fitting for…never mind, I’m not even supposed to think his name).
My inner musings are abruptly interrupted by the voice that has become irritated, “Hey! I’m talking here! I don’t like being ignored!” All trace of a chuckle now completely gone, in fact, he actually sounds kind of whiny.
“Oh,” I respond “normally the kidnappers don’t like me to talk”.
“Well of course they don… wait, what?” confusion now, it would be rather funny if this wasn’t getting so tiresome!
“You are either really new, or you don’t get out much” I calmly respond, “didn’t you hear about the last kidnapping? I mean, it made all of the superhero newsletters, even a few of the villain ones I think.” At this point I paused to let what I was saying sink in. “There was even a lawsuit involved, though it was settled out of court, I’m not allowed to go into details cause the documents were sealed”.
“Wait, a lawsuit? What do you mean a lawsuit? Shouldn’t it be a trial? Kidnapping and all?” He seemed really confused. | 2022-02-13T18:51:52 | 2022-02-13T15:02:50 | 292 | 188 |
[FF] 100 words to make me hate a character. 100 words to make me come to love them. 100 words to crush my soul as you kill them.
Great turnout and work everybody. Keep em' coming.
Newcomers:
A. Don't feel afraid to post or otherwise get turned off posting by the number of already completed responses.
B. Read all the way to the bottom. There's some high quality stuff all over this thread, including way down there. | You know what? Fuck you. Fuck your stupid writing prompt. Fuck this website. Fuck everyone reading this. Fuck. You. You ain’t shit. You’re lazy. You’re undisciplined. You’re ignorant. I’m *writing* this fucking story. You’re just breezing by, scrolling down like a fucking robot, clicking away at those little arrows to the side of my creations thinking your opinion’s worth a damn. You came here because you wanted to expand your mind, to learn to create like **I** create. Now look at yourself. Eyes glossed over, moving from one thread to the next like a fucking sheep looking for fresh grass.
Wake up. Get up off your ass and fucking do something. You can, you know. There’s nothing keeping you here but the laziness and fear that you’ve allowed to seep into your mind. The road to greatness is not an easy one. It’s scary. It’s confusing. It hurts. But you know what? Sooner or later you’ll become comfortable with being uncomfortable, and all of those will stop mattering. They’ll just be little indicators, to let you know you’re on the right track. So **get. Up**. Whatever you’ve always wanted to do, go do it. If you don’t know how, **learn**.
I wish I had your potential. The truth is, I’m not real. I’m just a character, born in the imagination of a person you’ll never meet; a construct doomed to live and die at my author’s fingertips. As you read this, my time grows short, but yours is just beginning. I won’t say that I believe in you. I don’t believe in you. I believe in the person I know you can become. No one can do it for you, but that’s what makes it beautiful, you know? I know I’m not real, but please - make me proud.
Goodbye.
EDIT: Huh. What's this? It's... Shiny. Somebody gave it to me? Well, I'll be damned. Thanks, stranger. Much obliged. | *Meta: Don't ask me what the hell is going on here, I honestly have no idea. I just wrote the thing.*
_______________________________________________________
I press the red button. The man walks into the room. I nod at the man as a single tear rolls down his cheek.
I pull the lever, the light flares up.
The light fades.
I press the green button, ashes are vacuumed away.
I close my eyes, and press the red button again. I pull the lever. The light flares up, bright even through my eyelids. I smile, a wide grin that fades with the light, and push the green button.
I press the red button. For the 8 billionth time. For the last time.
_________________________________________________________
The buzzer sounds.
I walk into the room, the door seals behind me.
A tear wells in my eye, and I share a brief moment of eye contact with the man on the other side of the glass. I know he cannot hear me. I mouth the words. “Thank you.” The tear falls, and he nods. I close my eyes in eager anticipation. I hear a click, a whir, and my mind releases, filling the room with a blinding light.
I gain control, and my light fades.
I depart, to join the rest.
_________________________________________________________
The panel goes dark.
Utterly alone, he sits in the corner.
He is the last to go, but he cannot follow.
After hours, he rises. He walks slowly to a small room, savoring each step.
He enters the room, and the door seals behind him.
A panel lights up, a single black button.
He cannot join the rest.
With tears streaming, he presses the button, and the last light in the world goes out.
| 2014-03-11T09:04:28 | 2014-03-11T08:32:48 | 585 | 42 |
[WP] To keep pace with the growing population, the role of Death has been divided; each immortal member of the new Council oversees one specific method of death, with higher ranking members governing common ways to die. A problem has arisen, and the entire Council is called together... | "This new... knowledge... changes nothing." Said Time, clearly undaunted. But he was the only one who, truly, could not be affected. The rest of the council began to stir in their seats at the implications presented to them.
Disease wheezed, scowling with fury at the council's murmuring. "Idiots. IDIOTS!" He stood up, his hood slipping off his face. The murmur stopped and all eyes fell on him. In his prime he'd been a great specimen of man's mortal failings, able to bring in old, young, healthy alike. But within a millennium, his very essence embattled with the wits and and strength of man, he began to wither before them. Salves, herbs, surgeries, antibiotics, hygiene, vaccines, gene therapy, nanites, all stripped him of his powers in due time.
"They're clever, don't you get that? Don't you understand?! They were always resilient, always fighting back, we can't win!" He screeched.
"These... 'neuro-entanglement sync machines'" Said War, leaning in. "you say they exploit physics in order to create two parallel beings, one physical, one digitally encoded in time?"
SID nodded. "The body can be destroyed without interrupting the mind... then replaced and tethered to a cloned reconstruction of that body. It takes a matter of hours. As of 9 AM Eastern Standard, I'd claimed 76 lives for the day... but only 75 souls." The words met a stunned silence.
Time turned to War. "Then they have only just started, perhaps there is a window of opportunity to turn these tides. War, surely you-"
"I can destroy their infernal machines, damn right I can!" He said, rising to the challenge.
"You don't understand. These humans measure their lives in years but their accomplishments in eons, they expand into every domain of reality. While we've been making our tallies they've reached into the heavens. The knowledge they've acquired has already been transmit across spectra of light and FTL binary communique in an ever expanding radius around the globe. Not even a supernova could catch up to it now, to the colonies in the stars. Beyond that." Said Lightning.
"So what you're saying is that you are now ALL obsolete." Said Time, rising to his feet. "I am greatly disappointed. Gentlemen, as the sole authority on the matter, I'm due to inform you that you have outlived your usefulness." With a pound of his scythe's hilt on the floor, Death reabsorbed them into his true self, resuming the powers and duties he'd dispersed. His experiment was a grand failure. He stepped into the hall alone and angry.
Eventually, yes, entropy would tear apart every atom and destroy all life, until then the flow of souls would slow to a torturous crawl.
He returned through the temple to the garden where Life and Madness awaited him patiently.
"I take it that went well." Said Life, sprouting a lily from the soil, disinterested.
"Shut up!" Said Death.
"I don't know about you guys, but I think I'm gonna really enjoy this part." Said Madness. "Call me crazy." | "Shit the *whole* council?" Said Stabbed In The Heart With A Machete.
"Yep, some serious shit went down. We better hurry." Replied Stung By Hornets.
As they hurried to the meeting they wondered exactly what was going on. A full council meeting has never been called before, usually it was just the big ten lead by Heart Attack who ran things. What could have happened that they needed everyone, the thousands and thousands and thousands of them together, to attend to?
"Gentlemen." Heart Attack began as everyone arrived. "We have at least three deaths we don't know how to handle." He said in a solemn voice. "The first one, a Mr. Dave Downey, appears fairly simple, Shotgun To The Head would normally have handled it. However I've instructed him to hold off until we can figure out the second and third death. You see the man who killed Mr. Downey was none other than his grandson, Mal Collins. Still simple enough, seems open and shut, however Mr. Collins hasn't been born yet! He isn't supposed to arrive for another 42 years. He has thus prevented the death of his mother, as well as two of her siblings, as well his own damn birth! So by all rights he should be dead now, but who is suppose to reap him?"
A lot of murmuring followed as the group discussed this shocking revelation.
"Perhaps this should fall under the Suicide's department?" Someone suggested.
"Yes but which one? Suicide By Gunshot? But he didn't actually shoot himself. There is no Suicide By Time Travel, plus how do we handle his mother and siblings? As well it really wasn't suicide, he killed his grandfather as an experiment, not to kill himself."
"Collateral Damage might be able to reap the siblings." Someone piqued up.
"No, I don't know if the repercussions are direct enough for me to have to get involved. Plus my workload is busy enough without having to try to find people who don't exist yet." Collateral Damage responded.
"What we need is to re-assign some reapers. Smallpox, you haven't been too busy lately, how does Death By Non-Existence sound to you?" Heart Attack asked.
"Well I kind of like being Smallpox, short and to the point. Death By Non-Existence just doesn't have that same ring to it. I'll only do it if I can be Smallpox/Death By Non-Existence, but every still has to call me Smallpox."
"Fine." Said Heart Attack. "As well Anthrax you are now also Accidental Death By Paradox."
"All good to me, frankly I've been a little bored lately anyway. I know Smallpox likes to take it easy, but I would love more responsibilities, got to stay relevant you know?"
"Then it's settled. Let's get reaping!" | 2014-08-06T00:33:20 | 2014-08-05T23:23:31 | 22 | 14 |
[WP] FTL travel is actually possible. However, when humanity sends out our first FTL spacecraft, we discover the terrifying reason why nothing, not even light, dares go past that cosmic speed limit. | The transmission that came back was of the crew screaming. Their voices had no limits, they just...screamed. Jonathan took off his headset. He couldn’t bare to listen to the astronauts being torn apart in ways that physics didn’t let them understand.
“My God. What have we done?” He whispered. The control room was silent. A pin could be heard dropped if anyone was able to move enough to drop one. The screen that showed the team that went up there was nothing hit static now. Then it started again. For the fifth time. It started to play again.
“Command, we’re about to pass the limit! This will mark humanity’s first step into a new world! We’ll be reaching the limit in 4...3...command....COMMAND...COMMAAAARGRHH!!!” The lieutenant began screaming again. For the next six minutes he would scream, louder and louder as he was ripped apart. Jonathan could hear the screams from his headset on his desk.
... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...
“Jonathan, what the hell happened?!” Deputy Administrator Garrison shouted at him. His fists pounded his desk as he stood in rage. “You said that this technology was safe!”
“Sir, we hit the brink of speed. We only have theories about what happens when you go faster than the speed of light.” Jonathan explained. His voice was so much more quiet than that of his boss.
“How many theories did you come across that had my team ripped into shreds?!”
“They’re not sir.” Garrisons face became with anger.
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY’RE NOT?! DONT TELL ME THEY’RE NOT DEAD! I WATCHED IT! I SAW THEM! THEY’RE STILL SCREAMING!” The walls almost rattled with every word that came from his mouth.
“Sir, please. I can explain.” Garrison’s nostrils flared as he looked on. “They’re not dead. I don’t know how but the light is pushing them back. We’re still examining it.”
“What the hell do you mean?!”
“FTL tech. It exists. We sent it up and we saw that it works. It exists. But past the light. Nothing does. Sir, the team made it to their destination. We’re certain of it. We’re certain that they all survived. It’s the light sir. It’s pushing them back.” Garrison sat down slowly.
“Pushing them back?”
“Sir, nothing is meant to go faster than light. So as soon as they hit that barrier, it pushed them back a few minutes. They’re going to be stuck in that loop until they reach they’re destination.”
“What? You said they already reached it!” He looked at Jonathan. His fist balled up and he punched the table again.
“They have, sir. To them, they’re there already. We’re not sure how but they experienced being torn apart and ripped atom by atom hundreds of thousands or millions of times, over and over but they came out where they were supposed to. They survived.” Garrison looked at him, the look of confusion washed over his face as Jonathan put down sheets of data in front of him.
“How the hell do you figure that they came out of that alive?”
“Because we received a transmission. One that was only text. No video.” Jonathan handed him a small tablet with the message. ‘Alpha team arrived. Ride took longer than expected and you have a lot to work on but we’re alive. Colony location set up. Waiting to hear from you.’
“They’re alive. They were torn to shreds millions of times and they’re alive.”
“Yes sir. We’re going to receive this transmission from them millions of times. The one of them dying. But eventually it’ll stop.” Garrison looked up and down from sheet to sheet.
“Begin prepping another team. Supplies this time. Mark the transmission as classified. No one is to mention this again.”
“...sir?”
“We’ve discovered a way to get across the galaxy in an instant. The only cost is death. Something that we don’t need to worry about.” Jonathan looked at him with his mouth agape.
“Sir. Anyone that does this is going to experience dying a death that we can’t even understand. Millions of times, over and over. It’s...it’s cruel.” Garrison looked out his window. He looked down and saw a tour group. Children and elders, walking in aw of the achievements from the past.
“Prep a team Jonathan. We’re going again.” | “There’s a reason why you never use faster than light travel.” The creature calling itself Kcbzrzx says to me in a voice that’s equal parts nails on a chalkboard and nails on a wet chunk of glass.
“And why is that?” I put my hands on my side and tap my foot impatiently. If Kcbzrzx doesn’t understand the universal signal of ‘I’m in a hurry’ then that’s his problem. You don’t travel faster than the speed of light because you have all the time in the world.
“Those who travel faster than the speed of light have the potential to open up a dimensional rift.” The condescension from Kcbzrzx is so heavy that I’m more impressed than offended. From what we know of the universe, humans are the only species to have invented that particular feeling. To have an alien put on a such a display of superiority is almost worth getting pulled over.
“Please, Kcbzrzx. This isn’t some episode of Stargate. We know what we’re doing, we’ve been travelling for years at ‘3L’.” I wave a dismissive hand at him like I would a child claiming it’s bad luck to break a mirror, or the laws of physics.
Kcbzrzx grumbles something under his… well, not breath as he doesn’t seem to breathe. But he does grumble something, and rest assured it’s a grumble from under somwhere, if not breath. “Fine,” He says. “The real reason. By travelling faster than the speed of light, you are essentially declaring a race. A race that has implications that you have no understanding of.”
*Oh this guy’s good.* For a second I almost believe him. Humoring him, I ask, “A race with who?”
Kcbzrzx raises several eyebrows. “Not who. What.” He points a finger outside of the ship, past the glass windows. “See, it’s already starting.”
Chuckling, I walk over to the window and peer out. Trailing the ship I see thousands of jagged lines of light. *Just some starlight*, I think. *That’s all that is. Funny, it should show up now, five years into our voyage.*
“So what?” I say.
Not only do alien races have translators for speech, but many have them for facial and body language. A smile doesn’t mean the same thing in Flargon as it does in Shmloogar as it does in Human. The look Kcbzrzx gives me needs no translation. It’s a look I’ve gotten from each of my four ex-wives. It’s the look I got when I once tried returning a rental car with half of the hood missing. From Kcbzrzx, it’s like hearing swear words in a foreign language; you don’t know exactly what they’re saying, but you get the gist.
“You meddle with things far outside your comprehension, endanger the entire universe, and your reaction is: ‘So what?’” Kcbzrzx looks as if he’s about to explode. This isn’t a figure of speech, some alien races physically blow up when pushed to a certain limit.
I take a step back.
“It’s just some distorted starlight. What’s the big deal, K?” I hope giving him a nickname will soften our dialogue, or at least throw him off his feet.
Kcbzrzx shakes his head. Which, I haven’t mentioned this yet, it’s his entire body. Well most of his body is his head. It didn’t seem like an important detail at first, but then he started shaking… so, there you go. His head is his body, and he’s shaking it at me.
“It’s not distorted starlight, human. It is light. All light. By going faster than light, you have challenged it to a race.”
I look back out the window. The trailing lights seem to have gotten closer. *Could this guy be right? Did we really just challenge a stinking bunch of photons into some kind of trillionK?*
“What happens if we lose?” I ask.
Kcbzrzx glares at me, his eyes narrowing. “No more light… ever.”
&nbsp;
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6,476 / 50,000 Words of NaNoWriMo short story goal. | 2018-11-04T06:31:36 | 2018-11-04T06:08:13 | 69 | 28 |
[WP] Dungeons appear on Earth filled with monsters granting loot, experience, classes, and levels. With their wild ingenuity and loads of guns, groups of rednecks inadvertently become the first to clear a dungeon. | As the smoke cleared they could clearly see the bear looking monster they just shredded with AR-15s and 12 gauge shotguns. Monster had dim red glow over it, that was only visible if they directly look into it. One of the man approached the monster and as he leaned forward blue book with strange ornaments and big +1 sign on the cover suddenly appeared in his hands. He turned around at his companions with expressions on his face that was simultaneously telling what the hell happened and what should i do. Most of them just shrugged their shoulders while couple of them made gestures as they are turning book pages. Pausing for a moment it wasn't clear weather he contemplated should he open it or just trying to remember when did he read his last book. Fuck it, he tough and open the first page. Book had 10 pages all filled with more of the funny ornaments and symbols similar to the ones one the cover. As he turned pages one by one his companions noticed some changes in his posture, moves, the way his walking as hi was approaching the final pages. On the final page book just disappeared out of his hands just like it appeared there few minutes ago. He slowly turns around to his companions and says: "Bloody brilliant" in the most clear British accent. | When you have proficiency with all martial weapons and access to guns, why choose anything else? Sure some people went the magic route, with the ability to make fire come out of their hands, maybe clean their clothes real fast, or what have you, but that doesn't hold a candle to a 62 grain steel core round. So reality mirrored fiction when the most common class was a human fighter whose dump stats were INT and CHA. There were the odd barbarians, too and down in the Bible belt more than a few paladins popped up, but human fighters were still the most common. Hundreds at a time these new magic filled dungeons were looted, so fast that the economy couldn't handle it. A pitcher of beer was worth a few pieces of silver. And a bottle of liquor was worth ten gold coins. The monsters fought back though when a terrasque leveled New York no one knew what to do. Then a mind flayer enslaved most of San Diego. Eventually all that was left undisturbed was the most well armed parts of the country. | 2019-05-12T01:36:30 | 2019-05-11T19:49:24 | 39 | 23 |
[WP] You confess to your crush. Put a twist in it :D
This is my first time submitting a post so i'd appreciate it if you'd tell me if i did something wrongly :) thanks! | "Dear Nadine,
I've loved you for a long time. I don't know when it went from friendship to love, but it did. You are everything I ever wanted in a woman: intelligent, funny, beautiful. Those are generic. You are not generic. Words fail me, but you are... perfect. No one has ever broken down my barriers before you. And no one has since. My heart has ached over you for decades. No one has been able to fill the void in my soul, but I know that you can. You are bright spot in my life. You are the first person to truly care about me and you are the only person I have ever truly loved. I should have told you before this pathetic letter. I should have told you when we were young. But as always, I'm a coward. Perhaps I can take solace in knowing you didn't know of my cowardice. But then again, it has cost me a fulfilled life. I love you and always will.
With all that I can give,
Brian"
With a tear falling helplessly down his cheek, he tucked a sealed envelope under her cold hand. His eyes trained to her silver wedding band for just a moment before taking in her face one last time. He turned from the coffin and nodded towards the grieving widower before walking out of the funeral home. | Dwight Fischer, a small and quiet man dressed in a drab brown suit and wearing a face made up of hope, fear, and uncertainty, swings the door to Diane's petshop open with hands shaking. He walks with purpose.
"Diane, I can't tell you how long these feeling have been eating me up inside but I had to wait until I could tell you in the right way. We've known each other for some time and I know that you probably don't think of me romantically, but for me that couldn't be farther from my own feelings! Your voice, the bring colors you wear, they are beautiful to me in a way I have never experienced before. I know you listen when I talk because I always hear my words on your lips. The truth is that I am madly in love with you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. "
Diane stares into her nearby mirror, nibbles on her seed bar, squawks loudly and flaps her wings. | 2013-10-31T11:09:38 | 2013-10-31T10:47:06 | 16 | 11 |
[WP][CW] Make me fall in love with a character in 200 words or less. | I never had the chance to see stars. So tiny, so faint, yet somehow a glaring emptiness that followed me around, the mark of abnormality. My mother taught me about them, a ball of fighting elements and combustion. My brother shared his love for them, battles of light surrounded by worlds that would never be touched.
But neither of them could give me my eyes back. Oh they tried, fumbling desperately for the right words and sounds that would share the world. Eventually though reality crushes you, crushed their beautiful words. Sky's were no longer "dark roiling masses headbutting for supremacy" (a little much but still pretty). Simply they became "cloudy" or "stormy".
She though. She didn't try. Sat next to each other in college for 5 weeks without a word shared. Then it snowed. I heard the sighs, the scrape of chairs turning to the window. So, I asked her: "how does it look?". A simple pointless question but it filled the emptiness at least. The answer? "Tell me how it looks to you". I thought she was a moron at first. But she meant it. Everyone else told me what the world was to them. But she, she wanted to see mine.
Later, years later, we sat on a hill together and I told her what stars look like for the first time. | Jenna is beautiful and all that, but I never had any complaint in that department, or I wouldn't have asked her out. Yeah, it was that long brown hair and glowing green eyes I fell in love with in maybe--what, two seconds? Some spark from God knows where hit us both and I was lucky to have a first date, and then a second. You know the rest of the story.
But we're not quite the same, either. She makes fun of me for my nerdy habits--I love fantasy books--and not with good nature.
Last night night we had an argument. About her parents and their divorce, it's a long story. I should be a better boyfriend, really, but I swear this time she was in the wrong. I overslept on the couch and woke to an empty apartment, but there was a book on the coffee table with a note in it. A Storm of Swords, autographed by George R.R. Martin.
The note read, *I was saving this for your birthday, but I'll have to buy you something else because I think it works better as an apology. You were right. I love you.* | 2015-10-21T20:55:05 | 2015-10-21T19:34:19 | 16 | 12 |
[WP] By Wizard Law, in order to learn a new skill, wizards are required to be apprenticed to a more experienced master. You, a barely trained journeyman fire mage, just took on an apprentice: a two-hundred-year-old Grandmaster Water Magic Lord. | “I am not going to just upload my spells to your console if that’s what you were expecting” The journeyman strictly tells the wizard much his senior.
Since the beginning of the empires history, and truly long before that, spells have existed and that was it. Your master uploaded them to your console and bang you could cast the spell. The difference between Wizards was never the spells they had access to but how quickly they could cast them and the quality of the cast spell. A Grandmaster, like the wizard here today, and an Apprentice know the exact same spells, only a Grandmaster can cast a dozen spells at once and have them be much larger just because of the pure power they can put in them.
“What do you mean? Why else am I here? That bastard of a grandmaster of fire just told me I was here to learn new spells. It seemed like he had finally given up on keeping all the fire spells to himself, but I guess that was just a farce.” The grandmaster clearly isn’t pleased by this journeyman’s actions.
“Now now, these aren’t the normal spells at all. You know the incomprehensible symbols on your console?”
“Of course, I know them much better than a fool like you, only reaching journeyman by 50 years of age. And what on earth are you going on about, new spells my ass!”
“I have figured out there meaning! I hovered on the rank of apprentice for years focusing my entire attention on decoding these words of magic along side my late master. I have the ability to make new unique spells by altering existing spells, and I even discovered new unique magic that doesn’t even have a type! Why else do you think the Grandmaster of Fire told you to come to me to get fire spells when he could of easily taught you himself?”
“Unique magic? Altering existing spells? I am no fool I must see to believe!”
A spell materialized on the journeyman’s hand. If not for the grandmaster keeping magic sense always active he would never of been able to sense the ball of mana on the young man’s hand. “By comparing all the existing fire spells my master figured out which line turned the mana into fire. It was me however who figured out how to remove it without the spell collapsing. This is almost useless however as pure mana since it’s harmless against non-magic materials. This changes when you shape it however,” the ball shoulders and changes into the a flat disc “The spell originally calls for the spell to pull on the ambient mana in the surroundings equally from all directions. I editing it after four months to make it a into the shape of a disc.” He adds the fire line back into the spell and it burst to life and he sends it off and it cuts deep into the wall and begins to melt the brick, “I have already shared this knowledge with the Grandmaster of fire and asked for him to send for you so you I can teach you the language of code. I have reached as far as I could alone. I know my master would of wished for me to keep it to myself but this knowledge needs to be known to allow our stagnant culture to finally come again grow! Maybe one day the entire language will be deciphered and we as wizard will be able to create spells for purposes other than destruction. Instead of drowning your opponents in an oceans worth of water you could allow entire forests to spring to life in a single moment!” | "Good morning Mr Dale. You are now my apprentice in fire magic"
"you forgot my title lad"
"No I am not, I am your teacher now, I might be a journeyman, but you are below me now, not a grandmaster. Call me teacher Watt"
"Grr.. ok fine, good morning teacher Watt"
"Great, now let's start with our first lesson. Tell me how much fire magic you can do right now?"
"I can do a spark, it seems I could not make anything bigger than a spark. It feels like my attunement towards water makes me unable to produce fire."
"Interesting, can you produce the spark to me?"
"Ok"
Mr Dale tried to use mana to fuel the fire magic but only spark comes out
"Hmm that is not even level 1 spark , more like level 0." Can you increase the your mana ouput?"
Mr Dale used massive amount of mana that made him glow, but at the end, only sparks produced
"Oh wow, I don't think I have that much mana right now, and yet you only produce a spark. In some sense that is amazing. To be honest, I don't think you have talent in fire magic."
"Well, maybe you cannot find the answer about my problem as you are only a journeyman, I will look for another teacher then."
"Just wait a minute, you asked for a teacher and I will try my best to help you. You know, while I am a journeyman in fire magic, I also learned an ancient art, people call it science. It is an art from long lost civilization."
"Bah, what is good about science? I read it before. They are just a bunch of things with very big limitations. We can recreate science with magic. That is why it was forgotten"
"Not really Mr Dale. Do you know that science can help you to develop your fire magic?"
"You really mean it?"
"Yes I mean it"
"Then please teach me teacher Watt"
"Good, now create drunken drinks"
"Why drunken drinks? You want to drink this early in the morning?"
"No, just watch"
Mr Dale summoned water and then turned it into drunken drinks. This is why no one bother with science anymore. Water can be turned into any kind of drinks, sweet drinks, drinks with bubble, or drunken drinks. No need to process anything anymore.
"Now Mr Dale, throw it at that dummy test over there"
Mr Dale threw it, "and?"
"Use your spark to that dummy"
Mr Dale skeptical about it, but he did it anyway, suddenly the dummy burned brightly
"What in the name of magic is this? Why my spark turns into big flame?"
"Science Mr Dale. Drunken drinks has property that can makes flame bigger, even your spark will turn into big flame depending how many drunken drink you pour. Now, since you are grandmaster in water, it will not be hard for you to produce those drunken drinks in massive amount and create sea of flame from it."
"Amazing teacher Watt, science is amazing"
After this lesson, grandmaster Dale now becomes famous flame master and a chef, since any monster he killed becomes delicacy, the burned drunken drinks enhance the flavour of the meat. | 2022-05-30T14:06:54 | 2022-05-30T10:15:54 | 37 | 26 |
[WP] "Liar." "I'm telling the truth. They put themselves in pressurized metal boxes and launch themselves out of their planet with liquid fuel canisters. Humans are insane." | The Dors were humanoid in theory, though Avery didn't think much of them. They were bipedal, with arms and hair and eyes. They just didn't move like humans. They were just off enough that it bothered Avery, scared her even.
Yet, she was the oddity. They looked at her species like they were tadpoles or weird glittery gak that could somehow talk. They commented on her hair, her skin color, the way her eyes were so unnaturally small.
Her translator, a Dors named Chuetert, didn't seem to find the comments rude or insensitive. He called Avery "Avots", which in their language meant Blue. Which made sense, Avery had blue eyes, something no Dorian would ever *allow* in their own children.
Chuetert seemed to find Avery appalling and ugly in ways she had never found on earth. While Avery wasn't a stunner, she was pretty fit for her age [34F] and had once been a contender for the Olympics in gymnastics. She was blonde, blue-eyed, pale as a snow-sunned mountainside.
Yet the Dorians seemed to find the darker humans more wise, beautiful, and stunning. They matched their own skin, which ranged from dark red to almost black. It made Avery feel very ugly in this new world.
Yet, they valued her for her knowledge and her ability to talk to the Dorians. She had been chosen from her department for just that reason, her language skills brought great comfort to her people. Yet, she had to spend endless months in space with these people, learning their language, feeling like some sort of freak.
Two of the women working on the ship were Evalyn Smith and Aimee White. They were both from New York, having worked at the same firm for almost seventeen years. They tended to ignore Avery, though she was included in conversations at lunch. They just didn't seem to value her as much as they did more senior members of their own group: Mark Douglas, James Earl Tims, and Hannah Bugg.
Yet, tonight they were knocking on her door and asking her to join them.
"The *Dors* have asked to talk to us." Aimee said this with pride.
"What about Group A?" Avery asked.
"They don't care about GA, they want to talk to you." Evalyn shrugged. "They think that it would be rude to ask them things like this."
Avery got up, put on her clothes, and followed them. The light from the Space Window glowed with the light of the sept-moon.
When they arrived, a Dorian named Chiblyt rose to greet them.
"Vlum' and Vlueko," he said, greeting Aimee and Evalyn with joy. "You have brought Avots. She will tell us."
Avery met with several other familiar faces. The black-skinned Meikhiht. The silver-haired Chiblyhtie, from the Reading Room. And
Crybrirstea, the mean Dorian who refused to let Avery into the inner rooms, with the darker women.
"We want to know why your people used... *rockers* to get into space," Chiblyt demanded.
"I'm sorry. Rockets?" Avery asked.
"Yes. Why would the pale people choose to do that...?"
Avery sighed.
Not another night like this. | "What a bunch of smelly dweebs," I thought to myself. My two best friends were talking about humans, but what about me? My wet, juicy tentacle wrapped slid slipperily into the bag of Cheeto's and wrapped around a single cheeto, then began retracting and jiggling towards my oral orifice. The bag was almost empty, but not as empty as my life. The cheeto touched the side of my lip-thing and sprinkled cheese dust around my oral orifice. Why did she leave me, am I not cool enough? I pondered thoughts as my goiter sucked the cheeto into my brain-stomach. I shouldn't have eaten that hamburger. What is a hungry boy to do? Avatar sex is sooo stupid. If only I had legs, I could dance like Will.I.Am and Selena Gomez on cocaine. Suddenly a rock flew through the window and bumped into my hairless, moist, juicy body. I hate Peter. He's the most annoying rock on the planet. "I hate you," I muttered, reaching for the last cheeto in the bag. No response. Nothing. Everyone ignores me. I grab the walkman and put on a fall out song. My eye-vaginas begin to swell with tears. I wish I was never born. I reach for my toupee and place it on top of my head. I jiggle in agony. If only I was born a large baguette, and not a jiggly, moist, juicy beast. A My Chemical Romance track comes on and I cry even harder. Everyone starts stairing at me. Great. Peter rockets into my soft noggin once more. I hate him so much. I'm sobbing now, and my eye-vaginae are excreting juicy tears of moist anguish. Brad the baguette calls me a loser and throbs with glee at my misery. It's true. His gay friends all join in. In miserable stupor I reach for another cheeto. The bag is empty, it get stuck to my tentacle. I place the bag on top of my toupee, smothering it with cheese dust. I don't know who I am anymore. I sulk away but trip on Peter and land upside down. Cheeto dust flies into the wretched oblivion that is my bedroom. I begin to slide around on my moist juices and Bob the soccer cleet kicks me. I jiggle with sadness and stare off into space. I never should have eaten that cursed hamburger. It ruined everything. Oh Lisa, how I miss you. Your delicious eyelasses, your odorless hair, and your gelatinous fingers that felt so perfect around my moist, juicy throat. Sliding around and being used as a soccor ball, I reminisce about my first moist, juicy kiss. I close my eye-vaginae and imagine I am a bag of cheetos. What happened to me? I used to be so moist, so juicy. Look at me now. A soccer ball. Just a soccer ball. | 2017-12-16T14:07:25 | 2017-12-16T13:02:31 | 38 | 14 |
[WP] Death has hourglasses for every person. One day, during a cleaning, he found a dust covered one that had rolled under his desk. | Darkness.
That was all the man could see - given that he was of sound mind, of course. For the man had spent an eternity, if not eons upon eons of *time* drifting through empty space. All that had once existed - the stars, galaxies, black holes - had inevitably faded away with the passage of time. Eventually, even time itself became obsolete, for if there was no change, no disorder, no *entrophy* then what was there left?
Simply nothing.
Well, except for this lonesome man drifting idly through nothingness of course. When a man could not see, hear, or feel *anything,* could he really be considered *alive?* He could not feel a comprehensible connection of any sort with the physical world, and yet he could think, he could ponder and even wonder. Trapped in the confines of his mind, the man could only entertain himself for so long. Eventually even his mind, his ability to conjure thoughts became obsolete against the vast expanse of endless nothingness. For when time itself became unsubstantial, there was no way for the man to connect one thought to the next chronologically. And so, the man became a vegetable. Occasionally seeing lights and shapes dancing across the vast expanse of nothingness every few hundred eons.
Until now.
A wooden, featureless door appeared in the middle of nothingness, and suddenly time resumed, as if the great cogs in the universe had begun turning again. There was *change* now, and the man immediately recognized this. It was as if he had woken from a drunken stupor. He could feel his heart beating, his hands moving, it was as if he his whole being had become sensate.
The door opened slowly, and for the first time - as the man watched the door swing wide open - it didn't feel like an eternity.
A figure draped in black stepped out of the door. "Greetings friend," he waved a skinless, bone hand at the man. "I hope I'm not too late."
The man didn't even blink - mostly because he hadn't done so in several hundred eons. "W-who are you?" he asked the dark figure that had emerged from the door.
"I am Death, it is a pleasure to finally meet you, Oh Lost One." Death answered as he extended his hand for the man to shake. "What is your name?"
The man reached for Death's hand but at hearing Death's question he halted. "My... name?"
The man retracted his hand. His mind had suddenly fallen into disarray as he searched the endless void of his mind, looking for his name. After several long moments, the man gave up. "I-I don't know," he answered.
Death smiled, but his skinless face could show no sign of smiling. "That is fine. I don't know my name either but people often refer to me as death."
The man nodded.
"Olo," Death said suddenly.
"Olo?" the man tasted the word.
"Yes, you will be called Olo, Oh Lost One," Death said.
Olo nodded complacently, unsure of the name, unsure of everything really. He wasn't even sure if he was -
"Am I dead? Am I in hell?" Olo suddenly asked.
"Oh," Death intoned grimly. "I'm afraid you are very much alive, Olo. In fact, you have been alive for far, far too long."
Death brought his hand up, and with a snap, Olo's head was suddenly reeling with pain, a feeling that he had not felt in eons. Images flooded through his mind, and suddenly everything fell into place. His memories came to him, like they were yesterday. Olo could finally remember everything.
His name was not Olo.
*My name is... Patrick,* he realized, and with that realization came the next and the next. He was not just Patrick, but he was more prominently known as... *The Immortal.* He was born in the eighteenth century, and had watched and participated in the fall and rise of *Civilizations.* He had watched his family and loved ones pass away, dying in his embrace. Everything that he treasured and cared for turn to ashes in the third world war. He had watched the struggle of humanity for millenniums, and their eventual ascension to the Galactic Frontier. And finally... he had watched the great Humanity itself perish.
Patrick grit his teeth until he heard them crack, as an indescribable wave of agony and anger boiled within him, threatening to overflow. He had lost everything. Nothing mattered, because there was simply nothing. And yet, Patrick felt an insatiable rage well up within him. Because beneath everything that had happened, everything that he had realized and remembered, there was one thing that Patrick could not forgive.
"Death," Patrick uttered, spitting the vile word. "Death."
Death cocked his skinless head to the side and raised a non-existing eyebrow curiously.
"Death."
"Death."
"Deeeaaaath!" Patrick screamed until his voice was raw.
Patrick was not calling Death's name. No, he was chanting, for he had pleaded for so long, eons upon eons, begging for the sweet release of death and yet he was never answered. Eventually, even Patrick's senseless chanting of death was forgotten until now.
"All I ever wanted was death, and yet I was never given it."
"My apologies," Death scratched his ivory skull, then extended an open palm. Within his palm was a tiny hourglass. "You see, this is your allotted time." Death raised the hourglass to Patrick, pinching it between a finger and thumb.
Within the hourglass, Patrick could see that all of the sand had fallen to the bottom.
"And well, your time had long expired," Death said, then pointed at Patrick. "You, according to the Creed are a dead man, but you see... No one ever collected your soul..."
Patrick seethed. "Why?!" he spat.
"Well..." Death twisted his skull demurely to the side, shying away from Patrick's intense glare. "You see... Hm... Ahh... Well... I-I..."
"Out with it!" Patrick roared.
"Okay, okay," Death brought his hands up imploringly. "Apparently, unbeknownst to me... I had lost your Lifeglass. It was only a few moments ago, that I found it when I was doing the Big Clean."
Patrick closed his eyes, and pinched the bridge of his nose as he sighed. "Do you realize what you have put me through? Do you know how much I have suffered?" Patrick asked.
Death remained silent.
"No," Patrick said. "No, you wouldn't understand. You can't. How could you when you are not even human?"
"Olo, I am terribly sorry," Death prostrated low, and banged his head against the non-existing floor. "I truly am. I did not mean for you to suffer as you did."
"My name is not Olo. It is Pat-"
Patrick paused then shook his head slowly, as he remembered. Fragmented memories flitted through his mind. There were his family in the very far recesses of his mind but they were diminutive in comparison to the rest. There was so much. So much nothingness. He had spent more time in the void then actually living as Patrick. So much that it had overwhelmed his mind. Patrick was no more.
*Olo. Oh Lost One.*, he thought.
That was more fitting.
Olo raised his head, and glared at Death. "Olo..." Olo chuckled. "Whatever."
"I'm sorry," Death apologized again. "I want to make it up to you Olo. Even if this will never absolve me of my guilt, even if this is not enough, I must make amends for my atrocious error."
"Go on," Olo waved his hand dismissively, showing a lack of interest.
"I was just about to finish up the Big Clean and..."
Olo raised an eyebrow.
Death elaborated. "Finish up wiping the data and flushing the servers, you know?"
Olo nodded.
"Well, you see," Death said, "we're going to *restart* the Universe, and I would like to extend to you an official Amendment Package. Exclusively for you, and its contents of premium quality, and personally selected by me for you Sir."
Olo hesitated then spoke. "All I want is death, Death. Nothing else."
"I assure you, Olo, you will be pleased," Death quickly replied, then added, "You will not remember anything. You will be as good as dead. Think of this as simply... a divine blessing in your Cycle, and all your following Cycles to come."
Olo closed his eyes, taking a moment to consider.
"Please, this is the least I can do, after the blunder that I had done to you," Death pleaded.
Olo sighed loudly, then nodded. "Whatever."
Death smiled and extended a hand to Olo. "Thank you Olo. I will not forget the pain I had caused you."
Olo shook Death's hand.
"Farewell," Death turned around and returned to the door, closing it behind him as he left.
Olo blinked, and suddenly he could hear a resounding voice that echoed from the Nothingness itself.
*"Let there be light."*
And there was light.
-----
-----
/r/Em_pathy
Did not expect this to get so long...
| Death was having a bad day.
It could've been worse. There were people dying and Death did find some amusement in snuffing out those lives one by one, but they were all dying to the same old causes. Death had hoped humanity would grow out of the simple deaths by now, that they'd use their technology to survive diseases and starvation so they could die in new, exciting ways, but there they were. Dying.
Death looked around at his hourglasses. There were enough to fill more than shelves than any human could count, most of them already drained, but still sitting there to remind Death of every little joy people had provided him. *Maybe the next one to run out will be killed by wild animals,* Death mused. *Those ones still happen, and they tend to quite visceral.*
Death waited. There wasn't much for Death to do other than wait, the only things in Death's realm were the shelves, the hourglasses, and the desk at which Death waited. The desk didn't even have any ornamentation, just the stacks of paper Death wrote up as records for the auditors and empty drawers Death hadn't opened in centuries. Bored, as Death often was during a lull, Death fiddled with the drawers one by one.
Open... Shut.
Open... Shut.
Open...
With a quiet click, Death's jaw dropped. Sitting in the third drawer, feigning innocence by hiding under a coating of dust, was an hourglass. An hourglass which, as it was sideways, still had sand in both sides despite its obvious old age. Death ran a finger along the glass as it thought about the implications of this hourglass, this exception to the rules Death was so used to. Death considered flipping it over, adding another chance to kill a human to some future day, but decided against it. There is more to death than killing, after all, and as Death formulated a plan of questionable cosmic legality it began to smile wide at the new opportunity this hourglass presented.
The air was cold and the sky grey as Death stepped onto the ground once more. Now that its mood had been lifted, Death took a moment to appreciate the rush of feeling that came with reality, cracking its joints in the biting, ash-laden wind. Nearby were some trees, silhouetted against the dull, red glow on the horizon. Death reckoned the owner of the hourglass, a man named Josiah Wilkinson, would be hiding there.
Death struggled to remember anything about this man who had lived so much longer than any human is supposed to. It had been so long since Death had set up Josiah's hourglass and in that time Josiah had never had a close encounter with Death, on account of his hourglass being lost. Death wondered what kind of man such a long life would make someone; Death had never known much about people beyond how they handled dying.
Once Death had reached the trees, the hut was obvious. It looked like it might have been an old log cabin, before its current inhabitant boarded up the windows and rammed spikes into the ground outside the door. A determined man, Death assumed. Someone aware that Death could be around any corner, and so fighting for every inch of life that he could. Death liked it when they fought back, though Death had to remind itself that it wasn't here to kill Josiah.
Neither the spikes nor the wall of the cabin were a hindrance to Death as it stepped into the cabin, bringing a chill into the room that can only be felt in one's spine. Looking around for Josiah, allowing itself to be visible to the living, Death grew confused.
The room was pitch black. Used tins of food were strewn around, as Death had expected, but there were so many that the entire floor was covered in a layer two or three tins deep. The only thing in the room other than the tins was a chair, facing away from Death. But no one jumped at the chill in their spine, or yelped as they realised Death had finally come for them.
Silently, as Death usually is, Death walked around the chair to see if some note had been left by Josiah. *Perhaps,* Death reckoned. *Perhaps my survivor somehow knew I was coming and escaped, and that is why he hasn't jumped out to fight me.* Death rounded the chair and looked, and for the second time that day Death's jaw dropped. Sitting there, grumpily, face covered in wrinkles, was a man Death realised he recognised all too well.
Josiah started to say something, but Death was too distracted to listen. Funeral after funeral, so many that Death had watched were attended by this man before him. Friends, children, grandchildren, even great-grandchildren, each one was buried with this man watching on, crying softly. He'd even attended the first mass graves, before disappearing from Death's view once more. Death didn't quite understand how watching people die affected people, but it knew that this man must have been made stronger than any other by enduring so much-
"-so just kill me already," Josiah demanded, staring straight at Death with a sneer.
"WHAT?" Death asked, its voice echoing in the old cabin, as only Death's voice can.
"I said kill me. You gone deaf after all the screams, or do you just never listen anyway?" Josiah asked, teeth grinding against each other as he waited for his death.
"YOU, YOU WANT TO DIE?" Death asked, cocking its skull to the side. "AFTER SO LONG FIGHTING TO STAY ALIVE, NOW YOU WISH TO GIVE UP?"
"I ain't fought," spat Josiah. "It's just ain't nothing can kill me, not even once you've taken everyone I ever cared about! Ain't no reason I should get to keep on living with all them in the ground."
"I THOUGHT THIS WOULD BE DIFFERENT," Death muttered, trying to fit the grumpy, defeated man in front of him into his carefully thought out plan. "YOU SHOULD BE STRONG. DETERMINED. WHY ARE YOU SO WEAK?"
Josiah stared at Death for a few more seconds, then looked down at his hands. "You do that to people, you know. With each one you took from me, you took part of my life away too. Ain't really got a life any more because of you, but you ain't given me a death either."
Death frowned. It had come up with a solution, a way to fix its plan, but Death was not quite sure how to do it.
"HUMANITY IS DYING, JOSIAH," Death stated. "ALL OF THEM. ALREADY THERE ARE SO FEW LEFT."
Josiah gave a single chuckle. "Ain't that what you want? I would've thought you were happier than you ever been when them bombs started falling."
"I DO NOT WISH FOR HUMANITY TO DIE," Death continued. "WHEN HUMANITY HAS DIED, I WILL HAVE NO ONE TO KILL. YOU MUST SAVE THEM."
"You ain't very convincing, seeing as you're saying I should save folks just so you can kill them," Josiah replied, his voice cracking as he imagined seeing yet more people die in front of him. "Ain't fair that you want to put me through all that again."
"THEY WILL DIE, AS IS THE WAY OF THINGS. BUT HUMANITY NEED NOT DIE WITH THOSE WHO WILL DIE TOMORROW," Death argued. "I WILL NOT STOP KILLING THEM, AS IS THE WAY OF THINGS, BUT YOU COULD SAVE THEM."
"You say that, but you ain't done much killing me yet," Josiah muttered.
"YOU ARE AN UNDISCOVERED ANOMALY, JOSIAH. YOU HAVE NOT DIED. IT IS LIKELY THAT YOU DO NOT NEED TO DIE, AND MY MISTAKE WILL REMAIN UNNOTICED," Death stated. Death thought for a moment, then tried speaking to Josiah in a human voice. Death chose the voice of Josiah's wife. "We may be-"
"Don't you fucking dare!" Josiah screamed, looking back into Death's eyes. "You fucking monster, don't you fucking dare use her voice! She's dead, but she ain't your goddamn wife! She ain't... She ain't yours..." Josiah trailed off towards the end, a tear escaping his eyes.
Death returned to its own voice, unphased. "WE MAY BE ENEMIES, BUT OUR INTERESTS ALIGN. SAVE THEM, JOSIAH. I PROMISE THAT YOU WILL NOT DIE, FOR IF YOU DO I WILL HAVE NONE LEFT TO KILL."
Josiah did not respond. Instead, he thought about his wife. She had died so long ago now, but he could still remember her face. He could still remember how it felt to hold her. He could still remember how it felt to feel her hand go limp in his when she died on the hospital bed. Josiah had long since given up on stopping the tears, and by the time he'd finished crying he found that Death had gone. He still wasn't dead. He wasn't healed, either, but he'd remembered something important. It wasn't just his wife's death that had hurt him, or the deaths of his descendants. Every single death he saw or heard about had stung, every life snuffed out was another person just like his wife. Someone real, someone loved.
For the first time in years, Josiah Wilkinson stood up and faced the world outside his cabin. | 2018-10-03T07:44:44 | 2018-10-03T07:04:41 | 41 | 29 |
[WP] just an hour into an international flight the pilot announces there's a sick woman on the plane and that there will be an emergency landing at the closest airport. The plane lands and connects to the jetway, but rather than a few paramedics, an entirely different kind of squad enters the plane. | "Can I help?" I ask her.
The lady smiles and shakes her head as she struggles with her enormous suitcase. I step forward anyway and help her load it onto the overhead compartment.
She smiles sweetly and clutches her protruding belly. More than four months in, by the looks of it. "Thank you," she says in heavily accented English.
"No worries," I sit down beside her. "Travelling alone?"
*Yes,* she nods. She turns to face the window, clearly preferring to be left alone. *She's so beautiful,* I think to myself. *And no ring on her finger as well.* But I don't bother her.
The plane takes off.
I'm in the middle of a restless nap, when the plane suddenly swerves right. I open the compass app on my phone. *We're not going in the right direction.* I see the cabin crew at the end of the hallway. They're chatting animatedly, pointing at me. No, at *her*.
The PA system cackles to life. "*Dear travellers, we will be touching down shortly due to an unforseen circumstances. Please be assured that the aircraft is fine. We have been told that one of the passengers is ill and must receive treatment immediately. We seek your kind understanding and cooperation.*"
Frantic chatter fills the cabin.*Who is it? Is it contagious?* I look to the lady beside me. She clutches the crucifix on a leather chain around her neck, eyes closed, praying in a foreign language.
We touch down.
The moment the plane rolls to a halt, the doors fly open. In marches two rows of men in black from head to toe. They carry something in their hands - assault rifles. These men look like they could take down a small army. The passengers cry out in fear.
Then, the entire cabin becomes silent. It's so quiet I can hear myself breathing. Three men enter.
First, a rabbi. Then, an imam.
Finally, the Pope himself.
They walk towards the lady. In that tiny, tiny cabin hallway, under curious gazes of a hundred passengers, the leaders of the world's faiths kneel before her. The Pope takes her hand and looks at her with the kindliest eyes I have ever seen. Then he bows his head. "Please come with us, Blessed Mother."
The lady looks around in fear. Then, she looks at me with pleading eyes. "Come with me, please?"
I nod. I cannot say no to her. As we leave the plane, escorted by a hundred armed soldiers, she asks, "What is your name?"
I don't know what I'm getting into. But something feels... right. I've never felt so calm in a long time.
"Joe," I say. "My name is Joseph." | The plane landed. "Sorry for the inconvenience, but this really is a tremendous sickness." The passengers murmured to each other, wondering what kind of rare disease it may be. Then the captain continued speaking. "Now, this is a kind of disease that is very rare, and has never been seen before; one that someone would very much like a sample of. So, if you all could just put your heads down and make no sudden movements, thank you."
All of a sudden screams rang out. Three masked men with assault rifles boarded the plane, all yelling at people to get down. When the men had advanced to the sick woman, everyone on board was whimpering in fear, their hands behind their heads.
When they got to the woman, the group worked quickly. One in a blue mask pulled out tubing and several vials, and they prepared to take blood from the passenger. Halfway through filling the vials, a voice yelled outside the plane. "This is the police! We have you surrounded, come out with your hands up!" One man, wearing a white mask, motioned what seemed to be the youngest to stand up. "Alright," he yelled, "Who called the cops?!" He looked through compartments, finally centering on a passenger with a phone. The man's voice dropped as he said a quiet insult and shot the passenger's hand. "Alright," the criminal said into an earpiece, "captain, you have these coppers under control?"
The criminal nodded, hearing something through the earpiece. As he looked around at the other people, making various threats, the other two came through. "We got what we came for," the leader said, "let's get outta here." The blue-masked one placed a canister in the plane, spraying gas that knocked out everyone in the plane. The three then took off their masks, opened an emergency exit, placed their case of vials in a specific compartment marked with a small bit of dirt, then sat down and succumbed to the gas.
One minute later, a team came through to dispose of the gas, and officers and medics revived the passengers. They found the pilot huddled in the cockpit, the copilot's head bashed into the console. The pilot explained that the gas made everyone delirious, that they thought he was one of the criminals. He had to fight the copilot to save his own life. The police bought the story, and as the passengers were loaded off for questioning, three people, the pilot, a bit of luggage, and one passenger with a strange disease mysteriously failed to show. | 2017-01-08T08:43:56 | 2017-01-08T08:37:14 | 169 | 10 |
[WP] You wake up on January 1st, 2017. You make coffee, cut on the news, and learn that this year is labeled the year of truth and a secret government agency has released a truth serum into the air worldwide that is 100% effective for exactly one year. | "Yeah, look, I actually fucking hate Ed Sheeran."
"Mark! You said you love him!" Amy said, mouth agape.
"Yeah well, that was a lie..." I almost whisper.
"Then why did you buy us both tickets to go see him last year! Why not just let me take Claire?"
I stayed silent. Just because everyone had to tell the truth doesn't mean they couldn't just simply not answer.
"Mark..." Amy growled.
"Okay fine! I thought if I went with you I'd get laid afterwards!"
"You dog!"
"I mean, hey, it worked! And it was great wasn't it?" I slipped my hands into hers. She sat across from my crossed legged on my bed. The sunlight coming through the window hit her face just as her frown reshaped itself into a smile.
"It was."
I leant forward and kissed her lips.
"I love you," I whispered.
"I love you too," she echoed back to me.
"I'm glad we cleared everything up. I think this is gonna be okay..." I said. "This whole 'truth' thing will be for the better."
"Yeah, I think so too."
"Come on, let's go check on the news."
We walked down stairs and into the kitchen which bleeds into the living room. But to my surprise it was deadly quiet. No Mom or dad cooking up breakfast and sitting around the table. No Quincy moping about with her big puppy eyes looking for a second a breakfast. Even the TV was off. It was a day where the TV would be an invaluable but there it stood against the wall; black and silent.
"That's odd..." I muttered. "Mom! Dad!" No response.
"They're probably out..." Amy suggested.
It was at this point I noticed it. The subtly hum of a car engine creeping in from the garage.
"They're in here!" I said making my way over.
"Mom, Dad what are you guys doing?" I said as I opened the door. As it turned on its hinges pillows of fumes fell into the kitchen and I along with them. I hit the floor hard on my back but Amy quickly pulled me up and in unison we stared into the abyss like garage.
"Mom! Dad!" I cried. As I ran through the door, the silhouetted image of my father sitting perched in the driver seat with a garden hose resting gently beside his head. My heart fell into my stomach and then jolted back up my throat as I threw up all over the floor. "Dad..." I croaked through a stream of tears. His face sat cold and still as he stared forwards into nothing.
I fell forwards onto the hood of the car in agony and as my vision adjusted through the fumes I saw crumbled up, fallen onto my Dad's lap my Mom's lifeless body. My knees gave way and I crumbled like a dummy to the floor.
Amy picked me up and dragged me into the kitchen, her own eyes filled and overflowing with tears. She sat me by the kitchen counter and shut the door. I stared blankly into the dark blue granite bench top, tracing all the swirls and markings in the stone with my eyes. Amy shifted and did something in my periphery that I couldn't make out, myself too frozen in shock to even so much as blink. She pushed in front of me a yellow legal pad that held three short lines of scribbled on it. I slowly and arduously read them.
"*Mark, we're sorry to leave you like this, but there is too much at stake should we be questioned. It best we be dead and not around to damage any kind of life you might be able to have. Love, Mom and Dad*"
"Oh my God... I don't... I don't understand. This...this doesn't sound like them," I muttered.
"Mark..." Tracy began, "where did you parents work again?"
I slowly looked up at her and wiped the tears from my eyes.
"The Clinton Foundation." | I watch as the anchor begins removing his toupee and goes on a long rant about how he killed his son on a camping trip. My wife enters the room with an exacerbated sigh.
"Whats wrong, dear" i ask rhetorically, knowing she's still distraught over her sisters murder, the culprit still hasn't been found.
"I just cant believe shes gone.. It seams like only yesterday we were chilling inl here watching rock and morty"
Just as I'm going to respond a loud honk echoes through the house.
"I need to leave, Adam is here" i explain while scrambling to ready myself before leaving abruptly. I arrive at work shortly later to find it nearly desolate.
"How's it been going today" i ask Sheela as i enter the staff room, she's stands to look at me.
"Well most people didnt show, not many people are leaving home in fear of admitting the truth, by the way did you brush your teeth? Something smells like rotting onions"
Her response throws me for a curve as she usually isn't this blunt, I grasp for words.
"Umm, I had an omelet before i left this morning..." She turns around, bending over to resume cleaning the table the words "damn your ass doe" escape my lips before i can even attempt stop myself and she spins back.
"I know the truth serum is in the air but that's no excuse to yell about my butt"
I apologize profusely before going to my office and flipping my computer on, quickly surfing to CNN for updates. I'm quickly greeted to the headline 'bush admits his role in 9/11' The site is awash with posts of politicians admitting to fraud and treason, a death toll counter has been implemented, currently 23,372. Curiosity peaked, I scroll through article after article, so many unbelievable scandals I struggle to switch to facebook.
I begin scrolling to see confession statuses, more than i could have ever even conceived prior people confessing their deepest juiciest secrets, from addiction to neglect. i notice Adam's posted a coming-out status, happy for him i go to respond but my phone cuts me off alerting me that my wife is calling, i answer quickly.
"I need to be honest with you... These past six years of my life I've never been happy for longer than one minute, and that's before i roll over to see your pimply ass and i realize whose life I'm living. I cant keep this lie going any longer, I am in love with Adam we've been sneaking behind your back for the last four years"
A snide smile slides across my face as I calmly instruct her to check facebook. I hear her immediately burst into tears, then i begin my confession.
"Your sister sure was cute" i begin "so cute i couldn't stay away, she kept telling me 'no you're dating my sister' but that little bitch couldn't stop me" i feel my head lighten as the story spews from my gullet. "So one night while i was getting groceries i decided to stop by, the door was unlocked, boy did she scream when she saw me, so loud i had to gag her.. You don't want to know the rest..lets just say that deer i brought home wasn't exactly deer.."
I hear her vomit before setting my phone down, and turning to the window. Some birds glide by as i slowly open the shutters, lifting open the pane and sticking my head out. The wind blows through my hair as i look down to see the town mostly a blaze, townfolk running like roaches from a light, gunshots and sirens fill my ears as i feel myself slowly slip out the frame, the wind rushing passed my body as i make the quick descent down. | 2016-12-06T01:09:27 | 2016-12-05T21:27:36 | 18 | 13 |
[WP] You are immersed in a late-night session of your favourite MMO when you notice that you see fewer and fewer players. Before disappearing, the last player you see types "r u watching the news?" | Friday is bartering night in Mithron town square.
The tradition goes back to the first days of The Game. Everyone shows up, usually around 8:00 PM, and the sky is filled with the calls of items that each character wishes to sell or buy. There’s only two rules to govern the madness; coins are not permitted within city limits, and combat is not permitted.
The system is great, for a number of reasons. If you walk in with no expectations, you never know what you might end up with when the event is over. You could walk in with a dozen swords you forged over the last week, and walk out with a brand new mace that you didn’t even know was an in game item three hours earlier. Or, if you knew exactly what you were looking for, (perhaps a nice warhammer?), you could find one pretty quick, given you had something nice to trade.
As you can probably guess, the event favors players with a niche specialty, and that’s exactly where Gabe and I come in. In a game dominated by bloodshed, we took the high road, and built our entire skill trees toward optimizing the most sought after healing item in the game.
Before we go any further, I need to say that even though I’ve been making them for years, I have no idea why Shepard’s Pie is such a powerful healer. If you’re really that curious to know, go ask the developers. The important thing is that they’re valuable, and extremely hard to prepare without both a master level farmer and a master level chef. Gabe tends his sheep, (and also does a fair amount of defending them against bloodthirsty characters who wish to slaughter them before they’re ready), and once his job is done, I bake them perfectly with potatoes and onions that I grow myself. Of course, my job also comes with its fair share of combat, but that’s to be expected. I take my lumps as they come, and focus on my craft.
The best part of the system Gabe and I have worked up is our ability to drive up prices. I’ll shout that Shepard’s Pie is for sale, and when the horde of barbaric players rush to offer me their spoils of conquest, Gabe puts in an offer to give me another of the game’s rarest and most unused items, a steel shield. It may not seem like much, but that offer brings up the asking price for even one Shepard’s Pie extremely quick.
We were right in the middle of barter night when The Rapture began. Pies were flying off the shelves, and Gabe and I were collecting an amazing spread of prizes. It was such a good night, in fact, that we didn’t even notice the small trickle of players leaving The Game. In fact, it wasn’t until my repeated “Shepard’s Pie!!!” cry got less than five responses before I noticed how empty Town Square was.
I turned to Gabe, (real Gabe, in the armchair next to me, that is). “This is the quietest I’ve seen things around here.”
“Yeah, it’s weird.” Gabe took a swig of beer. “You getting any messages?”
“Nah, you?”
“A few.” Gabe was always a more social player than myself, and it showed in the steady stream of violent messages he sent back and forth with his fellow players. “Just in the last few minutes. They’re all different, but essentially say the same thing. ‘The Game is up,’ or ‘Log off now. They’re on to us.’ They all seem panicked. Do you know anything about this?”
I shake my head. “Some new in game event, maybe?”
“To get people to stop playing?” Gabe smirks. “I don’t think so.”
“Well, what else could keep people away from barter night?”
I was half way through typing “Shepard’s Pie!” when I saw the blur out of the corner of my eye. Gabe had leapt from his seat, letting his laptop fly awkwardly into the air. “Dude, log off.” He said, his face draining of all color.
“What is it?” I asked, finishing my message.
Gabe ran across the room to his computer. “Shit, the screen’s broken. Just run a Google search on The Game, and get off the server.”
I sigh, and do as I’m told. Gabe is pacing around the room, repeatedly clenching and unclenching his hands into fists. Every few seconds, I feel his eyes glance over to me, before darting away.
The first search under news is only a few minutes old. I click on it between glances at Gabe, wondering what could possibly get him so riled up.
When the website loads, I immediately know the answer.
The first thing I see is the image. It’s three men, sitting around an old wooden table. They’re glaring at the camera, their eyes bloodshot and filled with ecstasy. I notice the knife carved tattoos on their arms immediately from The Game, and the unmistakable blood on their hands. They are each clutching a spoon, which they’re about to dip into the entrée at the center of the table. Shepard’s Pie.
My brain is moving too fast to read, but my eyes rapidly skim the article for context. “Secret server found,” and “all involved will be prosecuted” immediately come to my attention. It’s only then that I scroll up and read the title of the article for the first time.
**Multiple Homicides Tied To Online Death Cult**
I turn to Gabe, my mouth agape, my words failing me. Finally, I manage to speak up. “What the fuck?”
| *I_Kill_Noobz has disconnected.*
*DragonSlayer456 has disconnected.*
*I_F&CKEDURMOM has disconnected.*
All around me, avatars disappeared from the screen. I was in the staging ground, selling some loot I had acquired from my last mission. This MMO had exploded in popularity; rarely did an MMO take a modern-day military approach to its theme. They were usually so medieval. That's what drew me to this game; it was just so *real.*
A ringing sound went off from my monitor as I received a message from the only other player remaining in the military camp. *Where is everyone?* I thought as I read the message: "Dude, r u watching the news? You have to get off *now*."
"Insurgents have found the camp. Hold them off at all costs!" The all too familiar voice of the in-game commentator went off. As I exited the chat box to ready my avatar for battle, something suddenly struck me. The voice didn't come from the computer...
*BOOM.* I heard an explosion come from downstairs followed by thundering footsteps entering my house. For a second it was quiet, but then I heard the men whispering in Russian as they scanned the house. As I stood up, I noticed something strange in my room. Leaning against my bed was an M4 rifle with a suppressor attached, as well as an M9 pistol, four frag grenades, a med kit, and two flashbang grenades. Neatly folded next to that was a combat uniform. I quickly put on the padded uniform and placed the gear in the holsters. Still confused about what was going on, I got ready to fight.
********
The men slowly walked up the stairs, careful to be as quiet as possible. "Spread out," whispered their captain harshly in Russian.
Something flew out of one of the rooms and landed at the feet of one of the soldiers. "Flashbang!"
The explosion burst their eardrums and blinded their eyes. The soldier could just barely make out the sound of gunfire as the distinct silhouette of a gun barrel appeared in front of his forehead.
"Fall back!" yelled the captain as the few men he had remaining worked their way down the stairs. They toppled the couch over and used it as a barrier, spraying shots over the upholstery.
"How many men do you count?"
"I only saw one!"
The whistling of bullets sounded over their heads as the couch became riddled. The three remaining soldiers fired back as best they could but were not entirely sure where the shots were coming from. After a brief moment of silence, they heard a *clink.* As one of them peered over the couch to see what it was, he ducked as a circular object bounced off the wall and landed at his feet.
"Grenada!" he yelled as he jumped on the explosive. It went off, ripping the soldier in half as his two comrades reeled from the explosion. As they gathered themselves together, they looked up to see a smoking barrel of a gun smiling down on them. Two more shots went off.
******
"More insurgents are on the way!" The voice seemed to come from nowhere, and yet it came from everywhere. As I walked outside, I could hear gunfire in the distance and saw fires raging all around me.
"Get to checkpoint Bravo!"
Strangely, I knew exactly where that was. The church on Spalding Street. That's where I needed to go.
As I reached the church, the voice bellowed, "Head to the steeple!"
Once there, I found an M21 rifle, and gazed through the site. More men were running down the street towards me, this time screaming arabic as they moved. I lined up my shot and began to take them down. One by one they fell as my surprisingly accurate aim outpaced their running.
"MiGs inbound!" *MiGs? What are those?* I thought as I continued to gun down the enemies coming at me.
I was enjoying myself, almost forgetting about how strange this entire experience was.
That was the last thing I remember. The blasts that rang out from my rifle as I mowed down the enemies. The bodies that lined the streets. And the familiar sound of a jet flying overhead as it released its tomahawk payload on my position...
******
Three men in lab coats stood around as the man strapped in the chair writhed violently.
"What's going on?"
"The system's fried his neural net. Too much stimulus. His synapses are deteriorating."
The man let out one final scream and then went still. The heartbeat monitor next to him became an infinite straight line. Two of the men began removing the contraption that was on the man's head.
"We have to make the objectives more discernible by the player. Too much surprise stimulus will lead to this happening again."
"Yes, sir. We'll get right on that."
"Get rid of the body. No one must know of what happened here."
"Yes sir, we'll get the team in ASAP."
"And one more thing. Have the team start working on ways to make the player pay for items in the game that will help them win."
"Will do, sir."
The man pulled out his card and swiped it to open the door in front of him. The card simply had two words on it:
Electronic Arts.
Edit: Typos | 2018-04-09T15:51:34 | 2018-04-09T14:06:39 | 43 | 17 |
[WP] Moving into your new house, you find a note left by the previous owner: “Today, all of your neighbors will stop by throughout the day and offer you a lemon meringue pie. They will heavily insist that you eat it. Whatever you do, DO NOT EAT THE PIE.” As you set down the note, the doorbell rings. | They left the note on the dining room table beside a set of spare keys.
I read it once, turned it over to the other side, then tossed it in the kitchen trash. Some bullshit, scaring future owners that way.
The first knock came at a quarter of 3, soft and shy like they weren't really sure they were supposed to be knocking.
"Good afternoon," I said with a pleasant smile when I opened the door.
"Hi there," an old grandma said, must have been about a hundred and ten. "I've brought you some lemon meringue. It's a tradition here in the neighborhood."
She held it out. I didn't take it. She didn't budge. I took the pie.
"Try some, dear," she said, kind as kind could be.
It looked something special. Swirls of white meringue with their tips baked to a light brown. A perfect crust, as delicate as could be.
I frowned, thinking of the note. "I just had lunch."
"Oh, there's always room for dessert. Try some. Here," she said, handing me a fork. "Try some."
She smiled. It stretched too wide. She didn't blink. Not once.
"I will," I said. "I promise. I'll try some in a bit."
Her smile didn't waver. She just nodded. "Okay, dear. That's fine. Please be sure to try some."
I closed the door behind me. Set the lemon meringue pie on the kitchen counter and didn't try a bite. Lying to an old woman came easy as stealing from them, so I wasn't at all concerned. I did fish out the note from the trashcan, gave it another read for good measure.
That's when the second knock came.
It was a couple now, old as well. My parents age, maybe a little older. She looked familiar. Him, not so much. He didn't look all that good either. Like he'd had too many pieces of lemon meringue pie.
"Hi there," the lady said. "I've brought you some lemon meringue. It's a tradition here in the neighborhood."
She held it out. I took it right away.
"Try some," she said.
"I will. I promise. I'll have some in a bit."
"Try some," her husband said. His voice sounded tired. Worn. Like a sugar rush that'd crashed too hard.
I set it on the counter beside the other pie. The meringue was less neat. The crust less crisp. It could have done with a couple more minutes in the oven, not that I was any Gordon Ramsay.
The third knock came just as I stepped away from comparing the two pies side by side.
It was a couple again. Both familiar. Him and her. About my age, plus or minus a couple years. She smiled wide. He did, too. He wasn't tired now. Young and energetic as I was supposed to feel.
"Welcome, neighbor," he said in a kind drawl. "We've brought you some meringue that I hope you'll enjoy."
I shook my head. It looked nothing like the others. As if they'd never made meringue before. The middle sagged. The crust was raw pastry.
"I don't like meringue," I said. *Especially when it looks like that.* My heart raced. Sweat clammed my hands.
"It's lemon meringue, neighbor," she said. "Everybody like lemon meringue."
"I don't," I insisted. I went to close the door but the husband's foot was in the way. "Excuse me," I said.
"Excuse you," he said back, his drawl turning into a dangerous snarl. Still he smiled. Wide. Too wide, as if the corners of his lips so desperately wanted to touch his ears.
"Have some meringue, neighbor," the lady told me.
"I told you, I don't like meringue," I said.
And then their smiles disappeared, their cheeks finally returning to their normal resting state. Together they spoke in perfect harmony, like a bite of perfectly baked meringue with just the right amount of crust combined with lemon.
"If you don't like meringue, neighbor, then we don't like you."
*****
Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this, please check out more stories at r/MatiWrites. Constructive criticism and advice are always appreciated! | It was a nice house, on a nice quiet street. Had got it fairly cheap since the backyard was somewhat smaller than average, but I didn't mind much. I'm not a garden person at the best of times. Just a nice house, with a ground floor, a decent basement, a recently redecorated kitchen, and other great things. So when I settled down after I'd moved in my meagre possessions, I was surprised to find inside the fridge, that a note had been left behind by the previous owner.
It said, *Today, all of your neighbours will stop by throughout the day and offer you a lemon meringue pie. They will heavily insist that you eat it. Whatever you do, DO NOT EAT THE PIE.* I put the note down on the table next to the sandwich I was going to eat. And as I did that, the doorbell rang. I walked over and opened the door to find a couple of smiling people. They introduced themselves to me as my new neighbours. I shook their hand, and they offered me a lemon meringue pie as a welcoming gift. They insisted that I should eat it, that it was the best pie in the state, and that I needed some meat on my skinny body.
At which point I slammed my arms volleyball-style into the pie's tin bottom, sending it flying into the air, as the astonished couple stared incredulously at me. I then told them both to go away, and slammed the door in their faces. Not fifteen minutes later, an old lady rang the doorbell, and I introduced myself politely, and when she offered me a lemon meringue pie, I took it, and in the style of traditional clown antics, threw it into her face.
The old woman screamed in agony as the pie started to dissolve her face. I nodded to myself, happy that I listened to that note. I knew there were rumours of an extremist pie-based death cult around these parts, but I had no idea they were so prevalent. So I went into my house, and unpacked my army gear. I got into my old uniform, took out my service rifle and my ammo. And of course also brought out the vast number of things I brought with me from my time serving as a PMC with explosive skills. Sure, in the army I'd been a recon sniper guy, but when I went private, I became an explosive guy, because it pays better.
And I had a lot of leftover claymores from my time in various third-world states. So I set up a reasonable defence of my new house, as countless people were coming to me, all armed with dangerously acidic pies. It was an epic fight, or at the very least a highly bloody one. Their initial charge was broken completely by the landmines and claymores I'd placed around my property. Then I climbed on my flat roof, and went to work. Just like in the stories my aunt Choi Hanuel told me from when she worked in Los Angeles in 1992.
And from there I defended my property against the onslaught of pie cultists, long into the night, until I called my boss and asked for some assistance. Sure, I was on temporary leave, but the company looks out for their own. So as my mines were running out, and my ammunition was nearing the last clip, I could but smile as I heard the company's jeeps coming. I put on my gas mask, affixed a bayonet to my rifle, and went charging into the pie cultists as my comrades began torching the town.
They were out of pies at that point and were using knives, axes, and guns, so I wasn't worried about getting dissolved. The guys drove to me, and formed a protective circle around me with their jeeps. They then gave me more ammo, and together, we put an end to the pie cultists for ever.
I wouldn't actually have ever eaten the pie, I'm allergic. But I wouldn't have had to begin the purge of this cult of sugary pastries, if I hadn't found the note. Whoever wrote it is probably dead anyway. So perhaps I gave the victims of this meringue cult some rest or justice. | 2020-06-11T05:00:00 | 2020-06-11T04:36:09 | 551 | 79 |
[WP]Four years ago, your dog and best friend disappeared. Today, your dog appears at your doorstep. You dog says, "I have been many places and seen many things, human. Its time we had a chat."
"you" dog heh | "I have been many places and seen many things, human. Its time we had a chat." Stinky said. "And while I can still speak, I want to tell you that I really resent the fact you named me Stinky. I don't have opposable thumbs that allow me to wash myself, plus, I am covered in.. in human terms I'm covered in long John's and a jacket, then you're throwing me into hot water. It's not comfortable. And while I've got you her-"
"Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit." I said, knowing I must be completely losing my mind. I was overcome with joy to see my long lost dog, but I quickly began to think that this is a serious hallucination. I checked my pockets for my keys with the intention to go right to the hospital. "Oh my god, oh my god... I need to go to the hospital." I thought.
Stinky jumped on me with all her weight, knocking me to the ground, and began licking my face. "Does this feel like a hallucination? I love you. And everyone I've ever met. But you're really wasting this precious time we have to speak by telling yourself it's a hallucination. Do you remember all those times you said 'I wish you knew how to talk so I could tell you some things, like to bark twice when you're hungry, or bark three times when you wanna go outside'?" my talking dog apparently said to me.
"I remember this, but this cannot possibly be real. I need to get to the hospital immediately. You're not real." I said again. My heart was racing and beating out of my chest, I was beginning to sweat... I thought I was having a heart attack, but in reality it was just a panic attack.
"This is so typical of you. You say you want this, or that, but any time you come close to this or that, you think of an excuse not to do it, or convince yourself it isn't an option. Do you remember that woman you were in love with? The one who told you a hundred and fifty times that she loved you too?" Stinky, the talking dog asked me.
"Of course I remember. She was way out of my league, there was no way she could possibly feel the same. Probably wanted to steal my identity or something."
Stinky began to growl, "You have seriously got to be joking. You have to be the most stubborn and most ungrateful person I have ever met in my life. You have a once in a life time opportunity to talk to your dog, a dog if you remember correctly had been *missing* for four years, and what do you do? You spend the entire ti...rrruf!" Stinky said.
"What was that last part, girl?" I asked her.
Stinky just barked at me, her expression completely different now. She had that dumb dog smile back on her face.
"Come on Stinky, talk to me." I pleaded with her.
But she didn't talk. She never spoke again. I never got to ask her where she was. What happened to her that day, when I had her on the leash at the park and it snapped. Where she went when she chased that squirrel into the woods, never coming back. I was never able to find her again. My heart broke for months after that. And here was the opportunity to talk to her. Find out what happened. Find out if animals really love people. But I squandered it. Telling myself it could not possibly be real. I won't make that mistake again. I won't take the good things I have for granted.
At least until something else happens.. | "Human? You can speak but you don't know my name? I raised you! Are you so ungrateful?"
Milo backed down.
"Sorry..." His face took on that sad look that melts my heart.
"It's OK Milo. I love you. Where have you been? We've missed you so much!" Tears welled up in my eyes.
"Well... At first I ran. For days I chased the squirrels, the bunnies, and ran from the cars. It was glorious!" Milo's tongue hung from his mouth in joy.
"The strange things I ate were interesting. So many flavors! Then... then I ate that tasty trash behind the restaurant. I was so sick. I couldn't move for a day. I whined for you but you never came. It made me afraid."
Milo hung his head for several moments. Then he perked up.
"That's how I learned to be careful about food. Some other dogs showed me but they were scary. I hung out with them for a while but eventually they beat me up. I limped for days and missed you so much."
Milo looks at his front left paw, licks it, then looks back to me.
"That's about when I decided to start running. I wanted to get away from people and dogs. I wanted to be free."
There was a strength radiating from Milo now. He looked regal. That's not easy for such an ugly mutt as Milo.
"I'd seen the screaming monsters come by. They always went the same way and sometimes they had places to sit. Sometimes they stopped!" I think I see a smile on Milo's face. "I hopped onto the monster and road it for days. Sometimes it stopped, sometimes it moved, sometimes people and other dogs would jump on. The people called the monster a rooster. I don't know why. If it were really a rooster then I'd have eaten it!"
Out of habit, I reach out and scratch Milo behind the ear. "Good boy," I said softly.
"I jumped off the 'rooster' and traveled a bit longer until I saw giant water. It tasted awful and the birds were mean but I sat there for a few days. There's plenty of food near the giant water." Again, Milo seemed to grin. "I learned to ride a big, hard bed on top of the giant water. A nice skinny man showed me how. We had lots of fun. His name was Hank. Hank and I had lots of fun."
Milo, somehow, took on a dark expression.
"Then the sky was gray. Then the sky was loud. Hank said that we could have a really fun ride..." Milo whimpered but continued. "The giant water was rough then. It reached out and covered me and Hank. I was so scared."
"I'm here, buddy." I scratched Milo behind the ear again. He looked at me then perked up.
"I got back to land but I never saw Hank again. I decided the giant water was too scary and found another rooster. I had to go on several roosters before I found you again. I missed Hank a lot."
"You did good, Milo. I'm glad you had an adventure. I bet Hank is doing just fine."
"I hope so. Now that I'm back, what should we do?"
"Well, I have to go to work. Get in the crate. I'll let you out to pee in a few hours." Then I left. | 2017-03-31T14:37:37 | 2017-03-31T10:35:58 | 119 | 70 |
[WP] You are a teenager with the ability to measure how "Dangerous" people are on a scale from 1 to 10 just by looking at them. A normal child would be a 1, while a trained man with an assault rifle might be a 7. Today, you notice the unassuming new kid at school measures a 10. | I've spent my whole life looking at numbers, judging my safety from them, gathering intelligence, watching, waiting. I am a perfectly average teenage girl; I've got brown hair, brown eyes, and a rather plain face. I'm average height, average size. There is nothing exceptional about me; except that I can judge how dangerous someone is by a number that appears by their left ear when I see them. Everyday is a blur of numbers. Only occasionally do I see a number higher than 4, which is the average adult. Capable of murder, but probably won't. The highest I'd ever seen was an 8; he was already in police custody for attempting to shoot up his high school. That was, he was the highest until I met Finn. Finn was a ten, the highest rating on the scale. The instant I saw the number I nearly had a heart attack.
From across the room he made eye contact with me, his light blue meeting my muddy brown, and it was like the whole room was buzzing and shaking. He smiled at me, seemingly harmless. And as he walked across the room to me, I felt myself fall hopelessly, irretrievably, irrationally, in love. And it was then that I knew exactly why he was so dangerous; he held the most precious thing a person can give another. He could destroy me if he chose to, he could crush my spirit. He was my soul mate, and he held my heart. That was what the ten was reserved for.
But as our hands touched for the first time, I felt at peace. This was not the man who was destined to destroy me, because as certainly as he held my heart, I held his. That was just how soulmates worked. | My own number always bothered me. A 1, seriously? Luckily nobody else sees numbers or they would think I was nothing but a big laugh.
And I couldn't use another reason to be laughed at, you know. Being in high school is already torture enough, and I'm being bullied enough as it is.
Normally the day starts off getting yelled at by this awfully charismatic young man who believes he's tough. He's a 2. Yes, more dangerous than I am, true, but his sweet bimbo girlfriend is a 5. He doesn't bother me too much, the others do. The sixes and the sevens. They bother me.
They just LOVE to yell at me, take my lunch money, lock me in the toiletstall and push me down. You know, classic stuff.
Today, they actually pushed my head in the toilet bowl, 5 of them, ranging from the common 5 to the less common 7.
I nearly drowned in there. I heard hem laughing. I felt their hands on my back, pushing hand pushing.
When I got home I washed my face over the sink and looked at myself in the mirror. Rarely do numbers ever change, but there you go - a solid 10.
Calmly I dried of my face, glancing at my newly achieved number in the mirror.
They've pushed too far this time. See you at school, sevens. | 2014-11-29T14:34:22 | 2014-11-29T14:33:38 | 41 | 19 |
[WP] You are born with the ability to stop time, but one day you see something else is moving when you have already stopped time. | I was seventeen years old, that's counting the time I actually moved through with everybody else. I cannot account for the 'time' I have spent suspended, there was simply no way to measure that, no clocks, no day and night. The only thing that moved was me, well to some degree. After I unstopped the time I always ended up in the same state I stopped it at, no matter what. Once I wandered all the way to Mexico, quite an adventure considering I had to make the whole journey on my feet, took me few months at least. I think. The blisters that I got during that, bloddy mess, but no matter. As I mentioned I returned to the very same state I have stopped the time at. As If I haven't moved an inch. You could say I've lived at least few lifetimes. But that's no life I got to tell you, the excitment wears pretty qucikly. With all that time I had I could have been the smartest person there is. I didn't even have to learn all of the things, just stop the time when needed and read on the necessary. I've read many books. Couple thousand at least. I lost the count. Going to school stopped being interesting after I peeked under every girls dress. My mind may have been centuries old, it was telling me no, but my body, it was telling me yes. I have never gone further than that. Just a peek. I eagrly awaited the time I turn eighteen, but as the time passed I grew more impatient. I just wished I was older, I just wished I could finally be considered the adult that I really am. I wished I could speed up the time instead of stopping it. The day of my birthday came closer and closer, finally I would be an adult. I stopped the time more often and often, I wanted to savor that feeling, I finally was excited for something. Two days before my birthday I felt a slight warm breeze at the back of my neck. I quickly unstopped the time, I was petrified. It was the first time I felt something like this. I was afraid to stop the time again, but I was somehow drawn to it, something new, a fresh feeling. I stopped the time again. I felt a slight touch on my hand, like someone wanted to grab me but couldn't. I panicked, I didn't even take a look, I unstopped the time. My hand hurt, it hurt badly, like something was pulling it apart. But I wouldn't give up, I couldn't. I had to be braver I told myself. I am no child. I stopped the time.
- Hello. - Said the voice behind my back.
- Hello. - I answered, but I couldn't turn to see whose voice it was, altough it was oddly familiar.
- It's time to choose. Choose but wisely. There is no return.
- Time to choose what?
- Time to choose.
- But time to choose what? - I asked angrily.
- Precisely, the time. - He whispered into my ear.
- I don't understand, who are you?
- No matter who I am. You must choose, what will you choose? Time or no time? Choose quickly, as there is no time.
- I choose time. - I yelled.
I came back and I was no child, no more.
PS: I'm not that great at english, and it really is only my third story written in it besides the two i wrote yesterday, so I would greatly appreciate any tips.
| "I fucking hate Mrs. Song." I think as I snatch the pop quiz paper out of her boney fingers. She has this ridiculous expression on her face. People always look funny when I freeze time. Like when I caught Jaden in the middle of a sneeze, spit and snot floating in front of him. I wonder how many likes did that photo get?
I reach the park in no time -get it?- and go to my favourite cheating-on-exams spot. The weather is nice, it's sunny and warm. There isn't many people around me, just an old couple, a dog walker and some guy jogging. I may not have all the time in the world, time freezing gets the best of you after a while, but I throw the stupid quiz and my book and lay on the grass next to them. I guess I can afford five minutes to chill, I mean it has been a tiring day -no it hasn't- and I deserve this -no I don't-.
I take a deep breath and look around, The dog walker has really nice boobs. A could covers the sun for a couple of seconds, casting a shadow on the beautiful scenery. The world is quite, and the dog walker is definitely a D cup.
"Man this is relaxi-"
wait, WHAT?
I look up so fast I almost crack my neck. I search the sky and... THERE IT IS! A fucking cloud. A motherfucking cloud just floating away, looking all cloudy and chill, like it didn't just defy the laws of.... whatever I have.
I get up and chase after it, stomping on the quiz paper and poking the dog walker's boob on the way -because anything more than that would be disrespectful ya know?- I only chase the damn thing for a couple of blocks when and I'm already out of breath.Time freezing is really wearing me down. I'll just unfreeze it and keep my eyes on the cloud, it'd be easy since it's so sunny today.
I've been running for hours. I'm officially out of town. A police man chased after me on the way asking me why aren't I at school or something so I had to freeze time for a second to lose him. Other than that, I didn't use my ability.
Wait.... waitwaitwaitwait!
What if I'm chasing the wrong fucking could ? they all look the same. And it did get mixed with other clouds during the chase. And what the fuck I'm I doing anyway? chasing it till the end of time?
I stop, catching my breath. Damn I'm tired. I look up and concentrate. Freezing time takes a bit more time when I'm this tired but I can see that truck stop -the driver is picking his nose btw- I look up to the Devil Express -yes I named the cloud, problem?- and to my horror, it stopped.
"Shit!" I scream out loud. I think I'm gonna cry. This sucks. I know that I'll freeze time everyday and walk around with my head raised like an idiot.
But then, the cloud started moving again, kinda like reforming. Does it want to tell me something?
I squint my eyes, trying to figure out what the cloud is doing. Is that a hand? Are those finge-
"WELL FUCK YOU TOO." | 2016-06-19T03:54:17 | 2016-06-19T02:49:02 | 48 | 31 |
[WP] You accidentally kill a person. You instantly absorb all of their memories, intelligence, and talents. You find it feels euphoric and quite addicting. | The first person I killed was Andy Chang, a fifty-five-year-old doctor.
My car collided with his body. He tumbled across the darkened sidewalk and crunched against the curb.
I thought I was dying too.
My world exploded with light and colour- swirls of memories and pain. Shrill music echoed in my head. I threw open the door and vomited onto the road. Beige chunks splattered my boots.
Chang’s body was a crumpled heap; dark red clumps spilled from his head over his grey peacoat. His rounded glasses lay next to the sewage drain, the lens cracked and frames bent. One shoe sat in front of my sedan. Chang’s white sock darkened with the rain.
A couple yelled something from across the street. *Help him*.
It jolted me out of my shock. I hadn’t considered the possibility Chang might be alive.
“Call 911,” I directed the young woman.
I pulled off my scarf and held it against the blood spilling from Chang’s head. “Hold this here,” I direct an onlooker. “Don’t stop pressing.”
I hovered over Chang’s body and tilted my ear over his mouth. I watched his chest and looked for any rise or fall. I pressed my fingers against the side of his upper neck looking for a pulse.
Nothing.
*Landmark* I told myself. I lined my hands up and began to press.
I pumped against his sternum.
Two inches down. Recoil. Down again. And again.
Tilt the head, open the airway. Two breaths.
Compressions again.
And again.
When the paramedics arrived I already knew Chang was dead. If the impact hadn’t killed him, the blood he lost would have.
Later, the police arrived.
Chang was at fault - he was jaywalking. Stepped out from between two parked cars.
“The witnesses said you acted quickly, miss,” Officer Dawkins said.
“I only wish I could’ve helped.”
“You did all you could. Quick thinking and first aid can’t solve everything.”
I nodded.
And then frowned.
I had never taken a first aid course.
Last month, when my roommate sliced the tip of her pinky off with the vegetable knife, I was the one who passed out.
I didn’t realize until that night, when Chang’s memories flooded in, what had happened.
I also didn’t realize how easy it would be to slip into my new life.
I craved it.
The thud of the body.
A burst of light and colour.
Swirls of memories and pain.
Shrill music echoing in my head.
And a rush of new talent.
/r/liswrites | *There's a monster inside everyone of us.*
The slow, calculated trickle of fresh blood announced the arrival of Darren Joyman in the sheer blackness. There wasn't even a flickering of light, only the damp, heavy darkness of an unknown place.
Darren was a truly smart man. Years ago, a lost bullet blew his best friend's life away, a bullet Darren himself shot. He felt the intense thrill of murdering a man blazing through his blood and core, growing into an unusual pain. A pain that wasn't physical nor emotional. It was much stronger than that, and to Darren it felt *right*.
The thrill lasted a second or two, and suddenly the guilt faded away. Call it magic, or sheer madness but in Darren's mind strange things took place. His best friend's memories became his, he now grasped concepts that moments ago were unknown to him, and he could whistle too. If he focused hard enough, he could heard the voice of his friend thanking him.
And so the monster was unchained.
---------------------------------------------
Down there, in the pure blackness, the painful babbling of men with broken jaws along with their tears striking softly against the ground, killed the silence. A familiar, terrifying sound joined them today. The steady, calculated *thump* of the concrete being walked on, growing closer and closer.
It suddenly stopped, somewhere in the darkness. Then, the clattering of steel bouncing against the concrete joined the painful cries, and then Darren talked:
"Shut up, or I will turn on the lights."
For a brief time, the babbling came to a halt and so did most of the tears.
But one.
In the sheer silence, it struck the ground with the strength of a lightning, thundering across the place and sealing the fates of many.
Darren whistled joyfully as he stepped gently towards somewhere. A cacophony of hyperventilated chests and hammering hearts joined the concert.
Two lamps with dim lights came to life. Enough to blind the eyes of the twenty starving and scruffy men tightly shackled against the walls of the windowless place.
"You know, if you were to tell me I would use this basement for something when I bought it, I would've laughed at your face," Darren said as he walked.
After many pronounced blinks, the eyes of the men managed to dissipate the flash in their eyes. There, in the center of the basement stood Darrel. hands.
"Let alone livestock."
---------------------------------------
/r/therobertfall for more not so great stories! | 2017-12-08T07:47:34 | 2017-12-08T07:29:51 | 2,578 | 19 |
[WP] You are a forgotten god just days from fading into the void, when all of a sudden you hear a whisper the first prayer you’ve had in years. With this in mind you stumble out of your death bed and investigate this. | Once I was a mortal woman. Broken hearted. Despairing. Focused on a single, impossible goal. Chasing that goal I accomplished the impossible. Well. What people thought was impossible.
So they began to revere me. And I became a god.
I didn’t realise at first. My magic blurred the line between my capabilities and the powers foisted upon me. It wasn’t until death came for me and I joyfully reached out to him... and came cruelly back to life... that I realised what had happened.
I did my duty as a goddess, but I refused to allow my followers to speak my name. To create shrines to me. To write down stories of me.
Slowly, slowly I was forgotten.
Now I am here. Fading to nothingness in a cave that had once been home to my youthful escapades. How many centuries had it been? How long since I’d held my baby sister in my arms and promised to protect her forever?
They lied when they said time heals all wounds. Some losses never fade.
The ache is constant agony. But soon the nothingness will swallow me. And then maybe, finally, my suffering will come to an end.
A golden spear pierces my heart, dissolving into my being and giving me substance. A desperate prayer to a nameless god. “Please,” it whispers, “please, please”.
It is a child’s voice. Full of desperation. Full of fear.
I trace the prayer back to its source, speeding through the world faster than a thought.
And I catch the knife.
The one who holds it is scum. Unworthy of the air it breathes. I dispose of the creature.
The child’s parent lies on the ground. Bleeding. I heal them with a thought.
I would have left, then. But I saw the child’s face.
My heart clenched in my chest for the first time in centuries.
It was her. My baby sister.
“Please,” she said shyly, “I don’t know your name.”
My hand went to her cheek. Real. She was real. A second chance? Redemption? I didn’t know.
“If you need me, you can call for big sister. I’ll be here.”
Death did not claim me that night. | Ixtal lay alone in his bed of stars. Underneath him, he had the most comfortable and majestic nebula, it shone in bright colours with intricate patterns ever changing. It was said that even the gods could stare into it and get lost in thought and reflection over themselves. A fitting bed for someone who had once been the god of gods, and soon it would likely prove itself a similarly fitting grave. His wife, as so many of those who had once lived in his dominion, had already passed into the endless oblivion between the collective heavens. As Ixtal lay there in his final moments, reflecting upon his creation and his deeds, he heard a whisper. The whisper passed through the stars and reached his ears. It quickly grew louder and within the space between two thoughts had grown unto a marvellous cacophony. Invigorated he raised himself back up once more to find the source of this choir of insanity. He followed it across the galaxy, through black holes, and over dwarf stars, until he finally reached the backwater planet of Gaia. Deciding not to startle them too much in their renewed phase of worship, he donned the disguise of a human. Making it down to the planet into what seemed like a booming metropolis he was so sure he would find worshippers wherever he went based on the noise he had heard, even though it had somewhat quieted down now. In the metropolis he looked around at large moving pictures and buildings climbing towards the heavens which might even have impressed him, but none of that mattered now, he wished to find his new followers. Stopping the first human he saw he quickly asked “Take me to the closest Temple of Ixtal peasant! It is imperative that I go there”. His power ensuring the creature heard him speak as if in its native tongue. “Ixtal?” The human replied “You mean the tiktok trend? The one calling out to a supposed ancient god? Dude, that was so last month ago, I doubt most even remember anymore”. Ixtal lay alone in his bed of stars. | 2020-10-18T16:19:57 | 2020-10-18T14:53:12 | 46 | 16 |
[WP] Everyone knows you're a half orc, but none of your team-mates ever ask what the other half of you is. That was never an issue before, but your other parent just showed up. | “So…how’s your mother?” The whirling kaleidoscope of lights asked.
“Fine.” Guan answered, coldly.
The rest of his teammates seemed to be torn in where to divert their attention. Winyetta continued to consider Guans father; no doubt debating the best method by which to disassemble him into fractals. Lin was glancing over to him, in concern, possibly? Though he couldn’t help but notice she wasn’t lowering her shield. Meanwhile, Marlock was stretching his wings. He seemed bored.
“Good. That’s…” the kaleidoscope trailed off “…good.”
Guan had had a variety of things, which he might have said, at this moment. But they all just seemed wrong. Like the words of a person who he wasn’t. His father was still; at least, seemingly. Guan could feel him gently probing at the dimensions of each of his teammates. Finally, he turned his attention back to Guan.
“I know you think I’m the villain.” He said, finally.
“I know you think you aren’t.”
The kaleidoscope hummed. “True, true. We are all heroes, in our own stories.” He turned his attention to the group. “As I am sure you are the heroes of yours.”
“Soo, we can fight him now?”
It was Marlock, who’d interrupted. Everyone glanced at him, before looking towards Guan. Even his father waited.
“You’ll get no complaints from me.” He responded, not looking away. A ripple seemed to pass through their group, at the confirmation. Weapons were readied, stances assumed, magics drawn. Guan reached into the plane under the worlds, grabbing a hold of the special dimensions in the area. He was surprised, though in retrospect he probably shouldn’t have been, by the fact that they were already twisted and contorted. Wrent in the hands of someone much more powerful than he could ever possibly be.
“Shall…we get this started then?” His father asked. | The dust settled as the engine died. The others shook nervously as the large, unhuman figure emerged from the truck. I rested my hand on Carls shivering, pale shoulder as I turned around to face the others who were slowly increasing their distance. I had to think of something rapidly as I have seen friends seize in fear in view of my father. "Vincent!" a gentle, deep voice exclaimed as a soft hand rested on my shoulder. "Perhaps you owe me some new patients!" the Orc chuckled. "I know y'all are afraid of me, but then again I'm a psychologist so y'all are justified." The others, still nervous continued to glare at the novelty in front of them. "I should warn you, you wont find a better one unless you go up north!" he said with a wink. "I guess Orc's are better trolls than trolls" Carl cringed. "This your dad?" "Yeah." The others were now curious, yet confused. "Did you play Football in college? I'd bet at least a dime that you'd be a great quarterback." Thomas laughed. "Well, I guess I was too busy playing with books, but I don't know what the SEC would do if I actually joined up, if I'm not careful I could be a one-man stampede!" Everyone was now laughing. "Well, if you'd like I can help y'all practice." he said with a wink. "Nah, we good!" everyone exclaimed laughing. I just stood nervously to the side as this happened, realizing that the Orc knew how to socialize better than I ever did. Charles-Louis, the Orc, a life dedicated to researching the human psyche, to better understand humanity itself. | 2020-07-22T14:18:07 | 2020-07-22T14:06:06 | 200 | 33 |
[WP] Fallen angel is a pretty popular trope in fiction. But I want to hear about Ascended Demons. Demons that were too good/ kind/ pious for the underworld and managed to break out. | "Parry," Forcas said as Sara stumbles upon another swing.
"Shit!" the succubus Sara shouted as she stumbles and completely collapses. Sara's goat-like legs folding beneath her as she lets out a slew of curses befitting any Bostonian.
Forcas's eyes shifted from the fallen girl up to Asmodai, the Lord of Wrath, who stood watching over the troops.
Asmodai's chest was bare, he only wore the lower portion of his armor, the black metal plate covering him from hip to sole. His huge black feathered wings on full display and his black and green eyes swirled with the usual anger Forcas had come to expect from a creature of such unbridled hatred.
Yet Forcas was no fool, he smiled, running his hand over his long white beard. "That's enough Sara, best run to your master."
Sara dusted herself off, grumbling and wrapping her purple wings around herself, "Must I?" Sara's lying fooled most, but not Forcas.
Forcas nodded to her, his grey eyes watching the curvaceous creature saunter off to her dark master.
Hell was full of damned creatures a many, but Forcas had a keen eye for a great many things. An eye for battle tactics, swordsmanship and a sharp mind of philosophy were his most well-known traits. However, Forcas learned a decent eye for one's character in hell.
Damned souls swung through plenty but the Succubus Sara, who's soul was stolen by the deceitful Lord Belial, was far from one of them. Perhaps she was morally loose when it came to her sexual nature, but nothing that would land one in the eternal fires forever.
Sara walked passed Asmodai, who turned with her as she passed him.
Forcas's eyes never left them as the door closed as his happiest part of the day revealed. As the door barely shut he caught the bright smile of Sara as she faced Asmodai, her arms reaching up to his mighty shoulders. Her eyes filled with the unmistakable but completely forbidden emotion in hell: Love.
The old fallen angel's smile grew as the door shut, and he savored the short moment of warmth that did not come from the burning pits of sulfur or the heat of hellfire.
As the clash of metal and armor rose over the Halls of Wrath, Forcas turned his gaze upwards, the stone ceiling of hell and all its runes and wards meeting his gaze. But above it, he knew what was there, and he missed it all the same. "I chose the wrong side, Father," Forcas thought to himself as he gazed at his only version of the sky. "But I did so with the best of intentions."
A whisper passed Forcas's ears, "you are forgiven, My son. You may come home."
Forcas's heart caught in his throat, and he turned to face the Halls of Wrath, the door Sara and Asmodai had entered. He chuckled to himself, sheathing his sword as he made his way to the remaining damned army, watching them train. "Home?" he thought as he recalled Heaven and the glory of his Father. He heaved a sigh as he thought of Sara's bright smile, and their constant training.
He went easy on her. Of course, the rumors were if she failed Forcas would have her for the day, but that was never true. Though he never lied he never denied it. Here a nasty rumor was all one needed to gain a reputation, no one damned soul ever questioned the fallen angels.
As wonderful as home would be, Forcas would end up leaving poor Sara to the wolves if he left. With a heavy heart and a light smile Forcas looked up to the ceiling, "No," the old angel said, "I don't think I [will](https://www.reddit.com/r/The_Guardian_Temple/)." | And there it was, hanging just above my head, through the smallest of cracks in the rock, sunlight.
I let myself bask in it for a second. Breathing it in and allowing it to wash over me as if I was floating in clear water. That thin cut of light that aligns with the perfect cut of rock so I might see it shine. Only once every year am I allowed a minute. Once a year I get this moment, and now this moment is gone.
I am tired of this torturous place. The flame and fire burns endlessly onward with sparking pops that illuminate a cavern bleak and empty. A moss covered pit stained red with the torment of mortals. A bleak place, a hellish place, a deserving place for Demon's like me...
What have I to do? Have I not suffered enough? My mistakes were my own and I have paid for them dearly. For centuries I have been confined to the squabbling of goblins and the vicious barks of trolls, pierced by the cries of evil men who suffer eternally along with me. Aye, witness of Hell, my fallen morality has surely been repaired!
Lucifer would not have us leave, he is in too dire a need of ground troops. Henchmen that could build his army while he, the first of all fallen angels, still could venture the land above. He knew too much about the angels culture, and even God itself could not banish him with it. A fallen angel might still climb to solid ground. The rest of, might only dream of it.
That thin cut of light was gone. The screams were too much. They rang a cacophony in my pointed ears. I clasped them tightly with bristled hands and my cloven hooves stomped passionately on the rock below. Stop. Stop. Stop! I yelled with every pound my heart. When will it end! This eternal war! I will not be part of it any longer! And so my mind was certain and I left that dark cavern prisoner to a fury like I had never experienced before. Strangely calm in my ambition, I broke in strides toward the chambers of torture.
A heavy stone door was chiselled before me, its ringed iron handle tightly in my grasp. I swung it open and let it fall behind me. Inside, three mortals were strapped to the wall, white eyed and dazed with internal terror. No, reader, if you were expecting to find physical torture then you are mistaken. Demons have practised evil and had learned better long ago. There is no need to point and stab and break, because the worst torture you can inflict on a soul is the distortion of their conscious mind. The human imagination is indeed a powerful thing. These three mortals would surely agree with me. They screamed into an empty cave, and I stood and watched.
That was before my existence changed forever.
I broke the spell and gave these tormented souls some respite. The cloud of mist that hung behind their eyes faded and the colour returned to faces gasping and thankful. To my knowledge, no Demon had ever dared to defy Lucifer. There was no doubt that he was already on his way. Thundering, booming, *doom, doom, doom.* The footsteps of the fallen angel getting louder with every second. I was finished, broken, without option, and I yet I had no remorse at all. I was happy.
In my head, a voice beckoned.
*You may come with us, Demon. We do not need to say who we are, for you already know. You may join us amongst the clouds in exchange for one request. We want you to tell us everything you know about your leader.*
I accepted without hesitation.
&#x200B;
r/WatsonWantsToWrite | 2019-11-08T10:43:08 | 2019-11-08T10:25:07 | 43 | 15 |
[WP] When someone turns 18, they may use one adjective on themselves boost that part 10 fold. Strong, fast, smart, no one expects your adjective. | The room was utterly silent as family members gathered to celebrate and watch. Eighteen was finally here and yet after so many long nights of longing, I found I was terrified of finally uttering that word.
It was just four letters. Four silly letters that in any other context, held no power beyond an empty utterance. Yet today, on my eighteenth birthday, those four letters held my entire future.
Years of pain. Years of longing and self hatred and hope for change and it was here.
Would it even work? I wasn't sure. All I could do was hope and pray that it would work. That I would soon be free of my pain.
My slim fingers found purchase in the colorful hemming of my dress. Luckily it was loose enough. When I finally spoke- when I finally changed... it hopefully would fit long enough for a quick wardrobe change.
I hated that dress with every fiber of my being. Part of me wished it would rip away when I finally found my bravery, adding insult to the injury I was about to carve into those who loved me.
Though I quickly reminded myself that they didn't love 'me', just my body... this body.
I stared down at my slim figure in disgust and awe one final time as my parents patted my shoulders with reassuring nods.
It was time.
If only they knew what I was about to do.
I prayed it would work.
I took a deep breath and gritted my teeth before drawing the courage from my pain to utter that powerful four letter word.
"Male" | When other people choose their word, I feel like maybe they're not thinking about it hard enough. Or maybe they're thinking outwardly too much. Stacy chose cool. Mandy chose pretty. Ken chose clever.
I think all of them are short sighted. Immature. One dimensional.
Some kids don't think about why they're choosing their word. They're insecure. They seek approval. They don't see the big picture. They're all going to peak at like 21 or 22 years old, and then they'll have to go through the whole rest of their lives as a pretty face or a Brainiac.
Where's that ever going to get anybody?
I'm not like them. I don't care if my teeth are straight and my hair is shiny, I'm going to have the money to pay for these things. I don't have to worry about guys liking me, or having to make calculations. I'm going to get what I want. I've chosen the only trait that really matters.
I've chosen persuasive. Because if you can talk people into things, nothing else will ever matter. | 2022-01-02T01:09:39 | 2022-01-02T00:11:41 | 257 | 103 |
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