Split (1)

train · 353k rows

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	[WP]: You hate this one guy in particular. You also know witchcraft. So you cast a curse to slowly destroy the thing he loves the most. As time passes on, you find that nothing has changed, but you are starting to get sick.	The old ones had banished the practice of malevolent spells centuries ago, so a curse of this nature was a rare find indeed. It wasn't perfect - but I had a hunch it would do what needed to be done. Immediately, I began to clear the table. Bowls, half full of gruel, clattered to the floor. I spread the curse scroll out across the table. A feeling I hadn't felt in months rushed through my body in waves. Hope. Leaping onto the rickety chair, I took a moment to close my eyes and focus. I could barely hear the cold drops of water dropping from the cellar ceiling over the sound of my own heartbeat. Carefully, I began to recite the curse. A sound. Footsteps? He was home. I had to work quickly. I was halfway through the reading when the familiar clinking of keys entering a padlock echoed through the chamber. Panicking, I began to rush my words. I might not get this chance again. I raised my thumb to my mouth and bit down as hard as I could. It took all the willpower I could muster not to wail out in agony. I was shaking so much that I wasn't sure that the pentagram I had drawn would seal the curse. Thankfully, just as the sound of the hatch opening reached my ears, the curse scroll began to emit its unmistakable purple sparks. I quickly stood, and ran back to my shackles, fastening myself in. Just as the curse scroll smoldered into nothingness, I saw his figure emerge from the stairway. I pray my decay is swift. Perhaps now I will finally be free of this place.	"Hahahahahahaha!" Laughter filled the hospital room, "you got to be kidding me. Holy crap, that horrendously backfired." Jake was sitting in front of me with his face in his hands. Jake and I have always been rivals. Well not always, I actually I don't think he sees it that way. Come to think of it I'm quite positive. "Well I'm not, I heard you were dying. I didn't fucking see you for 5 months and suddenly you resurface looking like Smeagol." He removed his head from his hands and looked at me, obviously holding back tears. So weak and frail. I'm much stronger even in this state. "Well" I said: "that has more to do with your expectations than mine, I figured you'd be dead right now, or at least emotionally crippled. Yet here we are. I figured my illness was karma come knocking. But no, you actually love me!" His face turned to anger. "So what!? Is that so weird? We spend years tormenting eachother. I started looking forward to our bouts and eventually to seeing you." I had to agree, he was the only one that actually challenged me. Everything and everyone has tried to take me down from countless peasants, knights, eventually soldiers and assassins to gigantic military operations and all were wiped away with a snap of my fingers and he was the only one to counter my spells. Not with any finesse but still. "Well that's weird, I expected you to actually hate my guts, curse me in the in the middle of the night while thinking of how to stop me, always failing. I definitely didn't see this happening. Damn it." Jake facepalmed. "You really thought you won everytime? I mean no one died after I arrived in your life. Most of your plans were stopped and the world flourished. I had millions of chances to end you and I didn't take them." "Well that is your fault." I responded "Fuck you." "No fuck you." I looked around, well this is it, my life is over because of one tiny factor. "Can you cancel the spell?" Jake asked. "Nope, unlike you I am good at my job. In all honesty I didn't see you countering an uncounterable spell with something so stupid." "Well I didn't know you hated me so much." "Hate, I hate you. No past tense, I'm still here." I coughed and my vision blurred. This is probably it, not much left. Minutes pass in silence, sometimes Jake sniffs, he looks broken. I feel kinda guilty, kinda stupid too. "Well, if it counts for something, I tolerate you too. Being an evil overlord is kinda lonely. You were the one stable factor, I guess in time I grew fond of our battles too and now I feel stupid. We had a good run though." I coughed again and I felt my final moments nearing. "This is it I suppose. I am gonna haunt you, just so you know." "I wouldn't expect anything else from you. Goodbye, Jonathan. I love you." "Fuck you, that's sappy, jesus fuck, that is so dramatic, hahahah-" I coughed again and felt how I slipped away as I closed my eyes for the last time. Weeks later as Jake stepped out of the shower and looked at his mirror covered in condensation, he smiled and brushed his teeth as he wiped away the words: "Fuck you."
	[WP] A tiny duckling imprints on a giant, fire-breathing dragon, which now feels the urge to care for the adorable little quacker.	Flames licked the stone walls, the air within the cavern hot enough to melt flesh from bones. As the great Wyrms settled into place, their scales made horrific noises against the stones of the floor. Beindryg, Green Dragon of the West, shook her long neck and rumbled out a welcome. "My Bretheren... I welcome you back to my keep. It has been many moons since we all gathered together." "Save your frivolities, Sister." A flash of white scales, as the gigantic Dragon of the North shifted in place. "I do not come here lightly. The heat dulls my opulence. Say what you will and let us be done." Beindryg grinned a sharp grin. "Patience, Ossus. Your scales glow yet. Bretheren... Dragons of the World... I come to you with a grave concern." Rarrinid trilled, arching her neck. Standing much, much smaller than her siblings, the Red Dragon of the South looked dwarfed in comparison. "^(DANGER?") She hissed. ^("HUMANS? BATTLE?") "Nothing of the sort." "Treasure?" "Unfortunately, no." "DO NOT DELAY, BEINDRYG," came a new, loud roar. "TELL US, OR BE DONE WITH IT." Beindryg rolled her eyes. "It's the duckling, Cazzodam." There was a short silence, as all eyes turned to the Black Dragon of the East. His yellow eyes shifted back and forth, almost nervously. Perched atop his great, craggy head was a third small spot of yellow. As the rest of them watched, it shuffled a bit. In the silence, there was a small quack. "...I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU MEAN." "Oh, for the love of the Gods," grumbled Ossus. "You still haven't eaten that thing yet?" "I WILL!" Cazzodam bellowed. "I'M JUST... SAVING IT. FOR A SPECIAL OCCASION." "Don't be a fool, Cazzodam," huffed Beindryg. "We've all been very understanding of this so far." ^("TOO UNDERSTANDING,") hissed Rarrinid. Cazzodam growled deep, smoke billowing from his nose. From atop his head came a frightened quack, and the black dragon stopped abruptly. Almost regretfully. "Cazzodam, do you remember last month? When we attempted to lay waste to the Kingdom of Giraldi?" Beindryg asked. Ossus arched his neck. "Fool of a King. His pride shall be his-" "-His downfall, yes yes, we know," Beindryg broke in. "Cazzodam, we all met at the edge of the forest. Were you there?" Cazzodam looked away. "...NO." "And why not?" "...WE HAD A SWIMMING LESSON." The dragons growled in disbelief. Cazzodam snorted angrily. "I WILL NOT BE LECTURED TO! I AM THE DRAGON OF THE EAST! THE LORD OF FIRE! THE MASTER OF-" There was a small quack from atop the black wyrm's head, and all eyes turned to look. The small yellow spot turned around a few times, and settled down sleepily. It tucked a wing over it's head, and wiggled down into the warmth of Cazzodam's scales. There was a pause. No one looked away. "...Are we going to find a solution to this?" asked Ossus, hesitantly. "...Of course we are," Beindryg said hesitantly. There was another pause. "...MAYBE AFTER HIS NAP," Cazzodam said in his quietest voice. "IF HE DOESN'T GET A NAP, HE GETS GROUCHY." "Agreed." "Of course." ^("WE WOULDN'T WANT HIM TO BE GROUCHY.")	I don’t like it when I see something moving. When I see something moving, I can make it stop moving. I can make you stop moving. Stop moving. Stop. Moving. She didn’t know where it came from. She made sure she finished closing all the entrances, she made sure! Then nothing would be able to get in anymore. And then everything was going to be all right, right? Right! But having this yellow fuzzball slowly stumbling its way closer to her face was not all right. [...]
	[WP] A tiny duckling imprints on a giant, fire-breathing dragon, which now feels the urge to care for the adorable little quacker.	Flames licked the stone walls, the air within the cavern hot enough to melt flesh from bones. As the great Wyrms settled into place, their scales made horrific noises against the stones of the floor. Beindryg, Green Dragon of the West, shook her long neck and rumbled out a welcome. "My Bretheren... I welcome you back to my keep. It has been many moons since we all gathered together." "Save your frivolities, Sister." A flash of white scales, as the gigantic Dragon of the North shifted in place. "I do not come here lightly. The heat dulls my opulence. Say what you will and let us be done." Beindryg grinned a sharp grin. "Patience, Ossus. Your scales glow yet. Bretheren... Dragons of the World... I come to you with a grave concern." Rarrinid trilled, arching her neck. Standing much, much smaller than her siblings, the Red Dragon of the South looked dwarfed in comparison. "^(DANGER?") She hissed. ^("HUMANS? BATTLE?") "Nothing of the sort." "Treasure?" "Unfortunately, no." "DO NOT DELAY, BEINDRYG," came a new, loud roar. "TELL US, OR BE DONE WITH IT." Beindryg rolled her eyes. "It's the duckling, Cazzodam." There was a short silence, as all eyes turned to the Black Dragon of the East. His yellow eyes shifted back and forth, almost nervously. Perched atop his great, craggy head was a third small spot of yellow. As the rest of them watched, it shuffled a bit. In the silence, there was a small quack. "...I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU MEAN." "Oh, for the love of the Gods," grumbled Ossus. "You still haven't eaten that thing yet?" "I WILL!" Cazzodam bellowed. "I'M JUST... SAVING IT. FOR A SPECIAL OCCASION." "Don't be a fool, Cazzodam," huffed Beindryg. "We've all been very understanding of this so far." ^("TOO UNDERSTANDING,") hissed Rarrinid. Cazzodam growled deep, smoke billowing from his nose. From atop his head came a frightened quack, and the black dragon stopped abruptly. Almost regretfully. "Cazzodam, do you remember last month? When we attempted to lay waste to the Kingdom of Giraldi?" Beindryg asked. Ossus arched his neck. "Fool of a King. His pride shall be his-" "-His downfall, yes yes, we know," Beindryg broke in. "Cazzodam, we all met at the edge of the forest. Were you there?" Cazzodam looked away. "...NO." "And why not?" "...WE HAD A SWIMMING LESSON." The dragons growled in disbelief. Cazzodam snorted angrily. "I WILL NOT BE LECTURED TO! I AM THE DRAGON OF THE EAST! THE LORD OF FIRE! THE MASTER OF-" There was a small quack from atop the black wyrm's head, and all eyes turned to look. The small yellow spot turned around a few times, and settled down sleepily. It tucked a wing over it's head, and wiggled down into the warmth of Cazzodam's scales. There was a pause. No one looked away. "...Are we going to find a solution to this?" asked Ossus, hesitantly. "...Of course we are," Beindryg said hesitantly. There was another pause. "...MAYBE AFTER HIS NAP," Cazzodam said in his quietest voice. "IF HE DOESN'T GET A NAP, HE GETS GROUCHY." "Agreed." "Of course." ^("WE WOULDN'T WANT HIM TO BE GROUCHY.")	I never thought my little Quacker would be able to soften the heart of a dragon, I mean, I knew Quacker could soften people’s hearts but, a dragon??? “You see, I just wanted someone to talk to, it’s been 40 generations since I’ve talked to someone. It’s nice.” He curled Quackers under his chin to keep him warm. “What’s your name? If I can ask, I just figured y-“ “Call me Archious. I was, still am a dark dragon.” “Oh, well, nice to meet you Archious, I figured I’d be slaying a dragon today. To think, if our house didn’t catch on fire then I would have never brought Quackers.” Archious protected Quackers from the freezing rain while I looked for a cave for us to sleep in. Once I found one, Archious wouldn’t let a single drop of water land on Quackers. “So, why do you like Quackers?” I questioned Archious, I didn’t know why he liked Quackers, I just wanted to know. “He reminds me of my son, it’s been so long, I can’t remember his name. He was considerate and caring, all the other dragons shunned him from our realm. I lost my son that day” “I’m so sorry for your loss.” I could sympathize with Archious, I also lost someone I loved very much, my little baby brother, he was also like Quackers, but he died when our mother took off during the war against giants. My older brother and I couldn’t properly take care of a baby, we tried to help him but he got so sick and cold. “You’ve lost someone as well, I can see it in your eyes. A family member perhaps?” “Yes, my little brother, he was just a baby. Enough about me, so what happen to your son?” Archious grunted, and at that moment I realized, his son was sent here. “Your son was killed by Charming, wasn’t he?” “Yes.” Archious licked Quackers and made a bed for him. After days of silence Archious spoke. “Why are you still here? You’re a knight aren’t you? Why haven’t you killed me?” “But because I can doesn’t mean it’s okay to do it.” Archious fell silent and we lived in the cave for a couple years, once Quackers died of old age I knew I should move on, I was about to tell Archious goodbye when he started speaking to me. “Human, you have showed me kindness and fairness, but most of all true to myself and my friends. How would you like to take up my offer of traveling with me?” Over the years time caught up, my brother visited, then he went to war. He never came back, that’s when I knew he died, with no family I turned to Archious. “What are we waiting for?” I never thought a dragon could smile as big as he did when I told him that.
	[WP] A tiny duckling imprints on a giant, fire-breathing dragon, which now feels the urge to care for the adorable little quacker.	The world lived in fear of ducks. Entire cities engulfed in flames with no reason or explaination at first but then reports of a dragon started to trickle out to the countryside. As time went on word came from survivors that a duck had wandered into the village where it was barked at by a dog. This brought an inferno down upon the city. And it was an ordinary duck. Nobody knew what duck it was that was able to summon the dragon. Some thought that all ducks should just be killed but others thought that would bring about the apocalypse if the wrong one was killed. Finally it was agreed that for a while all ducks needed to be treated well just in case it happened to be the duck that summoned the dragon when it was in danger. And that is why ducks are so protected by law. Because somewhere out there is a duck able to end the world just because a dog barked at it.	Areinea was happily curled on her new found treasure, in her new lair, having only a few hours ago relinquished it from its former owners, a king of some kind or another. She quite liked the castle and was quite happy with it. Besides it included a good amount of gold as well as the bodies of the people she took it from for later snacks. She had just finished a small snack that consisted of the princess of the kingdom when she noticed it. A small white egg lay where she had swiped the princess from. But humans didn't lay eggs right? She didn't think so anyway. She was still a young dragon, only 400, but she felt sure of that. She peered at the egg curiously. She was just considering eating it when the tapping began. A light noise that had her tilting her head to listen closer. It continued for several minutes as cracks began appearing on the egg. Finally a small yellow head poked out. She blinked at it. She blinked again. It was a duck. Why was there a duck? As she watched, the tiny creature freed itself of its fragile prison. Now free the duck turned to her. It looked at her. She looked back. It quacked, she blinked. It waddled forward, startled at why the duck would go towards the giant fire breathing dragon, she let it. The duck waddled up to her and then quacked again. She lowered her giant head until it was resting on the floor as she looked down at the furry yellow creature. It nuzzled her and she blinked a few more times in confusion. She seemed to be doing that a lot today. She felt sure the thing couldn't talk so she didn't bother ask it what the hell it thought it was doing. Instead she moved her tail to swipe the little thing away. At the last second though she changed her mind. The duckling wasn't necessarily causing any problems, maybe she should let it live. Deciding that yes she would let it live until it became an annoyance she curled back onto her giant pile of gold. She heard the padding of its webbed feet over the giant pile of gold. The she felt it climbing onto her head and finally stopping on her nose. Opening her eyes she watched at the creature curled itself happily on her nose. She huffed and a trail of smoke can from her nostrils. It didn't move. She shrugged, or well the dragon equivalent of a shrug, before settling down to sleep, she eagerly awaited the first knight that would attempt to come to the rescue of the kingdom. AN: Sorry about any spelling and grammatical errors, hoped you liked it. Part 2 to come later.
	[WP] A tiny duckling imprints on a giant, fire-breathing dragon, which now feels the urge to care for the adorable little quacker.	Unlike most dragons, Myrathel wasn't fond of keeping her treasure scattered, and had instead buried it into the very foundations of the mountain she nested within. No knight, no matter how brave, could ever hope to steal it then. This came with a few drawbacks, however. One being that her immense wealth made for poor decorations as bedrock. Her stone lair, carved deep within a desolate mountain, was only distinctive from others - other than the fact a dragon lay there - was the scorched, once-molten stone that covered almost all surfaces. Myrathel became aware of a soft 'plapping' sound, only audible between the passive, yet mighty bellows of her lungs. She held her breath for just a second, and confirmed it. There was, indeed, a sound of starnge flesh upon stone, and it grew near. What human dared enter her domain? The corpses and clawmarks should have dissuaded all but the most dense of knights from attempting to slay her. Not that Myrathel didn't enjoy slaughtering knights, but even a dragon wants peace at times. Eventually, the source of the strange noise became visible - a small, feathered yellow creature, with orange legs and simiarly-coloured bone-like apparatus on it's face. Myrathel sifted through her immense memory for the name of the whelp for a moment, before remembering: it was a duck. A juvenile one, at that. Fearless, the small water fowl waddled closer still, tilting it's tiny head towards her head. Somehow, it even seemed to express affection towards her, but Myrathel quickly dismissed it. Many small creatures wandered in, the dumb things quickly being eaten or torched, but this one seemed particularly brave, especially for it's diminuitive size. Myrathel grumbled, and it reverberated throughout her body. The membranes in her wings vibrated, her talons curled slightly, and her tail idly whipped as the duckling stopped at the noise. She eyed it, debating whether or not to incinerate the thing and be done with it. But something, some instinctual part of Myrathel, refrained from doing so. The thing looked helpless, and her reptillian eyes noted it's apparently malnourished form. It continued to stare at Myrathel, and it let out a sound from it's mouth - a beak, she recalled - described as a quack. Myrathel has a non-verbal discussion with it, warning of her terrible actions should it dare to come closer. Yet the black, expressive eyes remained undaunted. It quacked once again, and then waddled closer. Myrathel let her inner Fire well up, the heat travelling up her throat and into her mouth, flames licking the air from between her sword-like teeth. Yet this didn't stop the duckling, whom continued to waddle closer to the dragon. Eventually it reached her, and seemed to nuzzle her. Myrathel stared, one eye closed at the courageous water fowl. The thing seemed not to care for the eye of the terrible creature, and instead continued to nuzzle her. Myrathel let her Fire die, and instead a warmth more soothing than it appeared, as if embracing her soul. The corners of her mouth quirked upwards microscopically, and she curled upon herself, protecting the duckling from any potential predators. Myrathel closed her eyes, and the duckling nuzzled against her scales one final time before settling into slumber.	After centuries of uninterrupted performance, a new sound pierced the melancholy of the ancient castle. The deafening screams of the grieving winged end were harmonised for the first time since she had gained her name. Initially, the only hint as to the identity of her mysterious accompaniest was a slow and soft tapping. The bringer of desolation did not notice, or perhaps she did not care. That was until the presence wandered into the ancient mess hall. And thus duckling met dragon. ... Life. There was still life in this accursed place. It was life that had stolen her soul; life had snatched away her purpose. For that grave mistake, it would all end. The calamity reared back its head, and roared. The sky blackened and lightning battered the earth. The tapping grew louder. The apocalypse given flesh reared back further, its roar shaking the very foundations of the castle it had emptied. As the floor began to crack, flaming debris streaked through the air; a storm of flame violent enough to incinerate civilizations surrounded her intruder. The cataclysm's assailant did not notice, or perhaps he did not care. The maw of annihilation pointed to the sky, and a stream of death ruptured the heavens. The tapping had grown deafening. With her mighty head now against the back wall, the eyes of divine judgement met with the brave and tiny creature's. And a mourning mother saw her child once more. I wrote this on my phone whilst incredibly tired, so I'll likely have to go back and improve it later, but I wanted to give it a try anyways. Feedback is more than welcome
	[WP] After being in a car crash that whipped you up, up, down, down, left, right, left, and right, you wake up in the hospital with "Cheat Mode Enabled" flashing and fading away.	Chance and circumstance. It happened so quickly. One moment he was dicking around, nostalgically listening to Linkin Park and Jay-Z and watching the headlights flash by on the highway, laughing with his girlfriend about their quick exit from the most awkward birthday party of all time. And then the Toyota Tercel was rolling, rolling, rolling, until blackness swallowed him. "Joel. Joel wake up.' Bright lights and the smell of disinfected metal. Beeping instruments attached to monitors. Body numb. Hallucinations taking hold, the words "Cheat Mode Enabled" flashing in the corner of his vision. He peered upwards and tried to move his arms, but couldn't. He tried his legs. Those wouldn't move either. He chanced a look down at his body, shocked to see that he was almost in a full cast. "Joel. You got banged up pretty bad back there." His father, looking down with concern. "Water," Joel managed to croak. "Please." The cold liquid coated his parched mouth and ran down his throat, making him shiver with pleasure. "Diana. Where's Di?" Roy looked away. "She's not here anymore, son." "I know she isn't in this room." "She... she isn't on this planet anymore. She has left us." Bright lights and the smell of disinfected metal. Plastic in a sterile room. The incessant beeping of monitors. Ears ringing. Blackness coming up to swallow him again. \--- Joel awoke to an empty room, the window letting him know that it was night time. His mouth was dry, that cottony, sticky dry only smokers get. He felt his tongue decaying. Di was dead. He had been driving. Headlights too bright and too close and then they were rolling. It was his fault that Di was dead. "Where is the other driver? Who is that fucker?" he asked himself, absentmindedly. Green text flashed in the bottom left of his vision, the same as earlier. The driver, James Earl Johnson, is two rooms over. He is twenty seven with a new wife and baby. He had just finished a fourteen hour shift at Walmart. He has been crying himself to sleep every night since the crash. Joel blinked, trying to stay the alarm bells ringing in his brain. Had they given him too much morphine. Did morphine make you hallucinate? The green text flashed again. Morphine does cause hallucinations. The effect varies depending on the person. You are not hallucinating. Joel, startled, tried to sit up, but only managed to send a shooting pain down his spine that pooled in his lower back. He swore in frustration. "Oh right, I'm completely crippled." He thought for a moment. "Will I be crippled forever?" If you exhaust the limits of modern medicine you will have limited mobility, but it will never be the same. "Do I need modern medicine to become able-bodied?" No. Joel pondered again, convinced that the drug cocktail he was on was inducing vivid dreams. Might as well have some fun with it. "Heal my arms and legs." The green text flashed again, but this time each flash sent a pulse through his body. Three heavy pulses and he was submerged in euphoria. Done. In awe, Joel sat up. He pulled his legs out of the plastic and cloth contraption suspending them from the ceiling, then he flexed and bent at the knees. He swung out of bed and began to rip the cast off of his arms in chunks. What a glorious dream. There was a knock on the door. A nurse poked her head in. The scene left her wide eyed and speechless. She began to hyperventilate right there in the doorway. "Impossible. I put those on myself. I saw the damage. Your legs were mincemeat." Joel looked at her, then down at the floor, the remnants of his cast strewn everywhere. Still convinced that he was having the most vivid lucid dream of his life, he smiled at the nurse, turned and ran towards the window. Shatter this and make me fly. Done. &#x200B; \---- &#x200B; Part Two below.	The words flashed in front of my eyes. I stared at them, blinking away the sleep and drugs coursing through my system. I could almost remember what had happened, the car that had blown straight through the red. I could remember tumbling. Apparently, it had done more damage than I'd thought. I raised one aching hand, pressing it to my head as though that would somehow knock the crazy out of me. As my palm pressed against my forehead, though, the words blinked once more. Cheat Mode Enabled. And then they faded. "Oh! You're up!" A cheerful, only slightly worried voice chimed in from across the room. I glanced over at the nurse charging towards me. And then I blinked, freezing in place. My ears were already burning. She was...she was lovely. Exactly my type. She had- Well, they were as big as- Well. Her- She was very, very, lovely. I fixed my eyes on her face as she checked the machines slowly beeping by my bedside. "Hi," I whispered, offering her a smile. "How are you feeling, Mr. Thompson?" she said, her voice bright. "Better." "You took quite the hit, there. Just take things easy. I'll let the doctor know you're awake." I sat back against my pillows as she bustled off, humming to herself. The words hung in my memory still. It didn't make any sense. Cheat mode? What? Had I been dreaming? Was I still? If this was a dream, I rapidly decided that it wasn't one I wanted to wake from. I'd have expected to stay in the hospital for days. Weeks. But the doctor filed in, grinning from ear to ear and shaking his head, and declared it a miracle. I'd come through without any injuries to speak of. A few hours of monitoring later, and I was on my own. As I left, the nurse slipped me her number. Her name was Carolyn, I learned. I tucked the number until my pocket, smiling back at her. I was confused, sure, but I wasn't going to say no. My confusion only grew as the days went on. It was the little stuff - the way traffic cleared from in front of me, the easy assignments that kept landing on my plate. The restaurants that kept giving things to me 'on the house' and the free drinks at bars. There couldn't possibly be that many promotions running in one city at the same time. And one man couldn't be that lucky. Those words still waited, lurking inn the dark of my mind when I closed my eyes. Cheat mode. The real proof for me came with the call from my insurance company. Or rather when I called them, confused as to where my bill was. It wasn't something they'd ever delayed on before. They'd held on the line for what felt like an eternity before telling me there'd been a mix up with the hospital. My bill had already been cleared, they said. And then they hung up on me. I stayed right where I was, staring down at the phone in my hands. That was impossible. It just didn't happen. Cheat mode, the words had said. The pieces were falling into place, one after another - but they didn't make sense. I knew what the words meant. I wasn't an idiot. But a term from a video game should have had no relevance whatsoever to my life, my quite real existence. My stomach churned as a dozen TED talks played in front of my eyes, a hundred different news stories about scientists and their theories. The crazies, everyone had always joked in hushed voices. Reality was real. It was as simple as that. But those words still blinked in my memory, pinning me in place. Before I realized it, before I'd consciously made a decision at all, I was standing at the counter of the convenience store down the street from my house. The clerk swore as I swiped my card, declaring that his system had screwed up. I was used to it, by then - things like that seemed to follow me. Transactions that would clear the store's computer, but never quite made it to my bank account. Forcing a smile, I took the lottery ticket I'd just bought and slipped from the store. My knee bounced up and down as I sat in front of the TV that night, unable to get myself to actually sit still. This was impossible. A message was waiting on my phone - from Carolyn, I knew. It had been wonderful. Everything had been wonderful. It was too much, wasn't it? "And now, let's announce tonight's numbers!" My eyes snapped up, fixing to the screen. I sat back a few short seconds later, my heart pounding in my ears as I stared at the jackpot-winning ticket in my hands. I was cheating. Somehow. I didn't know how. But if I was cheating, then...what? How? How could something like that be a thing, like this was some sort of video game? There was a muffled crash from outside. I jumped, my nerves already at high alert. It was probably just a cat, I told myself, leaning back again. They'd been knocking over the trash cans for years. I hadn't had to pick moldering garbage off the driveway once since I started cheating, though. The realization sank into my mind as a fresh shot of adrenaline slipped through my veins. Thinking about this logically...If this was some sort of game... I pressed my hand to my head, unable to quite believe what I was entertaining, here. But the evidence was hard to argue with. If I was in some sort of game, then I was definitely cheating. I rose to my feet slowly, pacing forward. My thoughts plowed ahead, racing through old jokes and Cracked articles I'd seen and a dozen different stories about programming humor. And then I tripped headlong, falling over the case of beer a stranger had given me that I hadn't quite gotten around to putting away yet. Disbelief shot through my mind as I tumbled towards the carpet. I hadn't actually hurt myself since- The gunshot that would have gone through my head went through empty space instead, as I hit the ground. I pressed a hand to my face, muffling the scream that threatened to escape. My mind was just a sheer wall of panic, but there was a core still thinking logically. Yes, that was right, wasn't it? Games had been around for decades. Cheating had always been a thing. And for as long as people had been cheating- I ducked low, unable to keep from crying out as the gunshots began in earnest, spraying through my living room. I could almost see the man with the gun when I peeked up, stalking closer second by second. He was in my front yard - for the time being. The single fact was frozen in my mind, crystal clear against the terror building. For as long as people had been cheating, games had been programmed to punish cheaters. And right then, I was the cheater. (/r/inorai, critique always welcome!)
	[WP] You were the dark lord but were defeated by the heroes. What they didn't know is that you discovered the secret to immortality, reincarnation. With all your memories intact you now plan to reconquer the world. Until then you have to deal with your new loving parents, the heroes who beat you.	To think, I had been defeated by two overbearing fools, and to top it all off, when I got back to the world of the living, they were my new parents! Not to mention my newfound knowledge about them being incredibly soft when not expecting a battle, it saddens me to know I let such unworthy opponents defeat me. It's been three years now in this new body, learning to walk again and beginning to regain my ability to speak. This body is incredibly weak right now, but I can't do anything about that for at least another decade. Looks like the fool Alexander has come to check if I'm alright, since I apparently have developed a 'habit of wandering off.' "Michelle, are you in- Oh good, you are!" Alexander lifts me up, which I respond with the only thing a can in this form, whining. It disgusts me how low I have fallen from my height, I was going to conquor the world and now I am just a little girl, the daughter of the very people who made sure of my demise. "You sure do like wandering off, don't you? Looks like you're mommy and I need to get you a bigger play pen." He says, carrying me back to the room I have been provided. In the room I have what you'd expect for an infant, a crib, a pink and purple play pen, stuffed animals, and some silly children's stories. I am ashamed to admit, I have gotten used to finding what amusement I can from this setting. "Down please." I say, still stumbling over my words like a fool. "Alright, do you want your teddy in your play pen with you?" Alexander asks. I open my mouth to say no, but decide to just nod. I'm going to need to play this role for a long time, as such, I ought to get used to being a little girl. Even if I dislike this, it benefits me in the long run. Speaking of which, my 'mother' Jessica has come to see me as well, time to get more situated in this role. "Mommy!" I raise my arms toward her, which gets the wench to laugh. Good. "You're in a good mood today Michelle, did you find something you like when you were exploring?" Jessica asks me, to which I just nod and smile. Playing these fools is not going to be a challenge in the slightest for now. "She nearly got to the front door." Alexander tells her. "Michelle is just curious, we should take her out for walks more often." Jessica replies, smiling at him. "Maybe, but you know we have jobs. We can't always take her out for a walk or to the park." "That may be so, but we could always save up a little money, maybe we can get enough to get a month off." Jessica is as optimistic as always, which I am used to by now. Perhaps her idea is a good one though, the more I can get out of this house, the more I can get to improving this weak body's strength. Although, for now that will have to wait. Despite it only being a little past noon I am getting very tired, failing to keep back a yawn. Following that, I get some pointless cooing about being sleepy and I get dressed in silly pink pajamas and annoying training pants. Once that is all done, the two of them put me in my crib and tuck me in. Ironically, by being so weak, these two will do whatever I want them to so long as it helps my health. Now, I go to sleep. &#x200B; &#x200B; Please let me know how I did, this is my first time doing a prompt so I wanted it to be good! Any suggestions or tips are appreciated and will be noted. Edit: How do I make it not have the side scrolling thing? Edit2: Formatting	Okay. You know you can deal with this. You have defeated Alverin the Sorcerous in single combat! You have unified Kytra dozens of times! Being raised by these heroes is not the greatest challenge. “Dearest, can you fetch me the baby powder?” It’s up there, but it isn’t the greatest. “Your sisters used up her diaper again.” This house is going to burn when you retake the throne.
	[WP] You were the dark lord but were defeated by the heroes. What they didn't know is that you discovered the secret to immortality, reincarnation. With all your memories intact you now plan to reconquer the world. Until then you have to deal with your new loving parents, the heroes who beat you.	These incestuous fools! How could these incompetent heroes have defeated me so many years ago? Now, I hold all the power in my hands! “Damien, get back here with my keys! Don’t you throw them in the toilet!” The older male chases after me as I duck around corners and evade his grasp. How pathetic, his attempts! This day is mine! I laugh manically, sudden squeaks and gleeful noises are produced from my gape. I make for the bathroom, jingling the oaf’s only means of normal transportation as a taunting anthem. “DAMIEN, NO!” His hand plunges deep into the bowels of the bowl, elbow deep in porcelain and defeat. I cross my arms, defiantly and victoriously. “Daddy, you get keys now!” I smile a wicked smile. When they told my parents that 2 was bad, but 3-year olds were the worst, it was a given ticket to mayhem. I have relished every second of their misery. Defeat me in the Battle over Washington, will you? Your super powers are useless to use on kin! This rebirth was not my end, but yours! “Karen! Can you get me a hanger please? Damien threw my keys in the toilet, again!” I could hear the splashing as I turned and strutted away to my crayons and plans. I’ve kept cryptic my plan to foil them, in sweet little drawings they post all around the house. First, I shall age and cause them unimaginable stress, withering their souls and ability to function. Next, I will leave enough food from my plate that the male idiot will eat “because he’s stressed”, and so “they don’t waste food”. Then, being so fat, he will be powerless to combat me as I age! Now…for the female. I’ve taken my toll on her body already, sucking her lifeless as often as I could. Then, I’d spit it out! It was genius! The desperation and frustration on her face was worth the dark imprisonment in her womb. Then to top if off, as soon as she would rest, I would soil myself, with a gut-wrenching scream that would make them wish my war cries in the battle were the last thing they had heard. My “parents” do all they can to scold and control my temperament, and I allow them to think they are succeeding. I give them momentary respite, and as soon as they are comfortable in their newest trend of parenting, I rip all their hopes to shred with a new way to disobey! By the time I rise to power in my teens, they will be too tired and worn out even stand up to my rallies for power. Now, where is my juice box? I require sustenance, and another means to get something else important sticky.	Okay. You know you can deal with this. You have defeated Alverin the Sorcerous in single combat! You have unified Kytra dozens of times! Being raised by these heroes is not the greatest challenge. “Dearest, can you fetch me the baby powder?” It’s up there, but it isn’t the greatest. “Your sisters used up her diaper again.” This house is going to burn when you retake the throne.
	[WP] You were the dark lord but were defeated by the heroes. What they didn't know is that you discovered the secret to immortality, reincarnation. With all your memories intact you now plan to reconquer the world. Until then you have to deal with your new loving parents, the heroes who beat you.	It’ll be a lovely tale. ‘Born from the fires of hell, were you? Ha. Pathetic. I was raised by my worst enemies, enduring many long, hard years of torture, before finally revealing myself and killing them! Take that, Turen!’ But it’s a long way away, the thought of that freedom. I’d do it on my anniversary. The ‘end’ of my reign of terror. How naïve of humanity to think that they’ve seen the best of me. I like to think that, for a 7 year old, I know an awful lot. I speak fluent French and Latin, and I’m currently working on my Japanese so that I can fit in with kids these days. Don’t want to blow my cover. Luckily, my idiot parents think it’s just that I’m a special kid. That I’m clever. They probably think that, because I’m their spawn, I’m going to grow up an amazing hero. I was the hero! They think that they can fix the world by separating everyone! When I was in control, I was going to start changing the world. I was going to unite us all. Protect us all. It was going to be safe. Instead of different countries, we have different planets. But now? The lesser leaders are back in control thanks to the ‘heroes’. I’ll show them. Firstly, though, I have homework.	Okay. You know you can deal with this. You have defeated Alverin the Sorcerous in single combat! You have unified Kytra dozens of times! Being raised by these heroes is not the greatest challenge. “Dearest, can you fetch me the baby powder?” It’s up there, but it isn’t the greatest. “Your sisters used up her diaper again.” This house is going to burn when you retake the throne.
	[WP] You were the dark lord but were defeated by the heroes. What they didn't know is that you discovered the secret to immortality, reincarnation. With all your memories intact you now plan to reconquer the world. Until then you have to deal with your new loving parents, the heroes who beat you.	It was a great day. The sky was clear - not a cloud on the bright blue canvas, the townsquare was full of people, preparing for the trip to the Capital. &#x200B; "Mum, I'm fine. Honestly, I promise you, I won't hurt anyone in the Academy... too bad." I sighed, as Sheryl kissed my forehead for the tenth time it seemed. &#x200B; "I must say, you grew up so fast," she shed a tear. I sighed and rolled my eyes, like any teenager would. "But where the hell is your dad?" &#x200B; "Probably slaying someone, like he does, duh. He's always late. For everything." He was even late for the last fight with me. And still won. That damned man is a curse in all lives, what a waste of a perfectly good scoundrel. &#x200B; "Don't be like that, my dear. Your father has had a lot of work after he started the Agency, but he would never be late for such a big day. Our beloved son is... is leaving... for the Academy" the woman in front of me, the one who had slain me long twenty years ago, had dissolved into a crying mess of a mother. How disturbing. A moment more and she'll attract more attention than I'd care more. I should probably just... yeah, like that. &#x200B; "Come on, mum. I'll write back and I'll use magic to communicate as soon as we're given permission to. I'll even send you a couple of carrier spirits with emotions tied to them." I hugged her, Sheryl's face on my shoulder as she embraced me in a motherly grasp. What a sorry excuse for a hero. She could be so much more than a housewife and a local witch - she could run the bloody Academy for all I know. I've grown to respect her as a magician in years spent under her roof. She even taught me - Me! - some new tricks. No surprise she was able to defeat my generals. &#x200B; I looked up at the townsquare tower. The clock showed five 'till five. In mere five minutes the portals would open and the townspeople who are headed towards the Capital - a city I've built, by the way! - will disappear in glowing rings of magical transportation. And Jack still wasn't here. &#x200B; We stood like that for a couple more moments. I felt the tension grow and the awkwardness arise. &#x200B; "Mum, you think he won't show?" I asked more to make her take a step back and release me from her arms. I wasn't actually interested. &#x200B; "He will. He is your father after all, Alex. He is just a little... well, him." She smiled awkwardly and shrugged. Jack wasn't hmself since I told him what my major was going to be. A son of heroes of ages. A magically gifted child of light. A necromancer. We haven't spoken for a week or two as of now. I think I've hurt him with this. While Sheryl was understanding and accepting - she even called the Professors and made sure I was to be treated as any dark mage would, not be signed into light parties - as if I needed any help. Jack... let's say Jack wasn't excited. A thought of his son becoming a dark mage definitely hurt his heart. When I came to the place where he taught me how to shoot a bow - a place he used to bring me quite a lot when I was much younger - this life younger I mean - to try to find him, he wasn't there. I've gone to several other places that were in our memories. Obviously, to make sure he was hurting. But he wasn't there. &#x200B; The townsquare clock showed two minutes till five. &#x200B; "Alex, please, don't worry. I'll talk to your father. And besides, he probably got attacked by something on his way. You know him." She looked worried. As if I cared. "Hey, sweety. Don't look so sad. He'll come around, especially when you'll show him how well you do in the academy." &#x200B; Sheryll pushed on to touch my face - probably to 'turn that frown upside down'. I decided against moving back - or else it'd, once again, attract too much attention. She just put a hand on my cheek and brushed her thumb across my face, under my left eye. &#x200B; One and a half minutes till five. &#x200B; "Alex! Sheryl!" Jack's voice - tired and rusty - came to us from the other side of the square. He was rushing towards us with something in his hands. &#x200B; "See? I told you, there's no need to be sad. He'd never miss a day our son was going to the Academy!" Sheryl smiled and hugged me again. I sighed. I'd rather not see him right now. &#x200B; "Alex!" Jack approached, breathing heavily, as he speeded through the square, dodging the people around. He took a deep breath and repeated, in a calmer tone. "Alex." &#x200B; "Dad." I wanted to say 'Jack', but somehow 'Dad' felt more natural. &#x200B; He smiled and handed me something, covered with leather. &#x200B; "I'm sorry, son. This past couple of weeks I wasn't the greatest father. Hell, I wasn't even a decent one." I opened my mouth to insult him, but he raised his hand and said. "Please, let me finish. We don't have much time and I'd like to finish this speech, after all, I've rehearsed it. Alex. I wasn't a good father lately, but I understand how hard it must have been on you to tell us that you wanted to study necromancy. And instead of thinking about that I thought about how hard it was for me to hear it. So I snapped. I'm infinitely sorry for raising my voice at you, son, and for disappearing for a bit, but I've realised my mistakes. I went into the dark forest and found something" &#x200B; He pointed at the item, hidden with leather. &#x200B; "Please, open it. It is a base of the staff. It is made out of darkwood and it will take a long time to make into actual staff. But I believe that if anyone in this world can wield it for good - it's you, my son," he turned to Sheryl and put a hand over her shoulders, smiled. "Our son." &#x200B; As I unwrapped the piece of wood, I felt the first bit of rain strike me on the cheek. In my hands laid a perfect branch of darkwood. The very same wood I once made my own staff out. The very same wood that brought my rule over those lands. Powerful magic could be wielded with this staff. Could and now would. &#x200B; I looked at them, words stuck in my throat. They looked at me smiling, Sheryl was crying. I wiped the rain off my cheek and the only thing I managed to say was: &#x200B; "Mum, dad. Thank you. I love you." The last part was a habit of playing a role. Definitely. Totally. Surely. &#x200B; The townsquare tower struck five times and the portals opened - one after another. &#x200B; "Be fair, Alex. Always try to be good, but never fail to be kind," my mother said, smiling through tears. &#x200B; "Bring us tales of your magnificent achievements, my son!" said father. &#x200B; I could only nod, as the ring of portal consumed me and transported my form to the Capital, words stuck in my throat. &#x200B; Maybe I should revisit my dark plans. Maybe.	Okay. You know you can deal with this. You have defeated Alverin the Sorcerous in single combat! You have unified Kytra dozens of times! Being raised by these heroes is not the greatest challenge. “Dearest, can you fetch me the baby powder?” It’s up there, but it isn’t the greatest. “Your sisters used up her diaper again.” This house is going to burn when you retake the throne.
	[WP] You were the dark lord but were defeated by the heroes. What they didn't know is that you discovered the secret to immortality, reincarnation. With all your memories intact you now plan to reconquer the world. Until then you have to deal with your new loving parents, the heroes who beat you.	These incestuous fools! How could these incompetent heroes have defeated me so many years ago? Now, I hold all the power in my hands! “Damien, get back here with my keys! Don’t you throw them in the toilet!” The older male chases after me as I duck around corners and evade his grasp. How pathetic, his attempts! This day is mine! I laugh manically, sudden squeaks and gleeful noises are produced from my gape. I make for the bathroom, jingling the oaf’s only means of normal transportation as a taunting anthem. “DAMIEN, NO!” His hand plunges deep into the bowels of the bowl, elbow deep in porcelain and defeat. I cross my arms, defiantly and victoriously. “Daddy, you get keys now!” I smile a wicked smile. When they told my parents that 2 was bad, but 3-year olds were the worst, it was a given ticket to mayhem. I have relished every second of their misery. Defeat me in the Battle over Washington, will you? Your super powers are useless to use on kin! This rebirth was not my end, but yours! “Karen! Can you get me a hanger please? Damien threw my keys in the toilet, again!” I could hear the splashing as I turned and strutted away to my crayons and plans. I’ve kept cryptic my plan to foil them, in sweet little drawings they post all around the house. First, I shall age and cause them unimaginable stress, withering their souls and ability to function. Next, I will leave enough food from my plate that the male idiot will eat “because he’s stressed”, and so “they don’t waste food”. Then, being so fat, he will be powerless to combat me as I age! Now…for the female. I’ve taken my toll on her body already, sucking her lifeless as often as I could. Then, I’d spit it out! It was genius! The desperation and frustration on her face was worth the dark imprisonment in her womb. Then to top if off, as soon as she would rest, I would soil myself, with a gut-wrenching scream that would make them wish my war cries in the battle were the last thing they had heard. My “parents” do all they can to scold and control my temperament, and I allow them to think they are succeeding. I give them momentary respite, and as soon as they are comfortable in their newest trend of parenting, I rip all their hopes to shred with a new way to disobey! By the time I rise to power in my teens, they will be too tired and worn out even stand up to my rallies for power. Now, where is my juice box? I require sustenance, and another means to get something else important sticky.	To think, I had been defeated by two overbearing fools, and to top it all off, when I got back to the world of the living, they were my new parents! Not to mention my newfound knowledge about them being incredibly soft when not expecting a battle, it saddens me to know I let such unworthy opponents defeat me. It's been three years now in this new body, learning to walk again and beginning to regain my ability to speak. This body is incredibly weak right now, but I can't do anything about that for at least another decade. Looks like the fool Alexander has come to check if I'm alright, since I apparently have developed a 'habit of wandering off.' "Michelle, are you in- Oh good, you are!" Alexander lifts me up, which I respond with the only thing a can in this form, whining. It disgusts me how low I have fallen from my height, I was going to conquor the world and now I am just a little girl, the daughter of the very people who made sure of my demise. "You sure do like wandering off, don't you? Looks like you're mommy and I need to get you a bigger play pen." He says, carrying me back to the room I have been provided. In the room I have what you'd expect for an infant, a crib, a pink and purple play pen, stuffed animals, and some silly children's stories. I am ashamed to admit, I have gotten used to finding what amusement I can from this setting. "Down please." I say, still stumbling over my words like a fool. "Alright, do you want your teddy in your play pen with you?" Alexander asks. I open my mouth to say no, but decide to just nod. I'm going to need to play this role for a long time, as such, I ought to get used to being a little girl. Even if I dislike this, it benefits me in the long run. Speaking of which, my 'mother' Jessica has come to see me as well, time to get more situated in this role. "Mommy!" I raise my arms toward her, which gets the wench to laugh. Good. "You're in a good mood today Michelle, did you find something you like when you were exploring?" Jessica asks me, to which I just nod and smile. Playing these fools is not going to be a challenge in the slightest for now. "She nearly got to the front door." Alexander tells her. "Michelle is just curious, we should take her out for walks more often." Jessica replies, smiling at him. "Maybe, but you know we have jobs. We can't always take her out for a walk or to the park." "That may be so, but we could always save up a little money, maybe we can get enough to get a month off." Jessica is as optimistic as always, which I am used to by now. Perhaps her idea is a good one though, the more I can get out of this house, the more I can get to improving this weak body's strength. Although, for now that will have to wait. Despite it only being a little past noon I am getting very tired, failing to keep back a yawn. Following that, I get some pointless cooing about being sleepy and I get dressed in silly pink pajamas and annoying training pants. Once that is all done, the two of them put me in my crib and tuck me in. Ironically, by being so weak, these two will do whatever I want them to so long as it helps my health. Now, I go to sleep. &#x200B; &#x200B; Please let me know how I did, this is my first time doing a prompt so I wanted it to be good! Any suggestions or tips are appreciated and will be noted. Edit: How do I make it not have the side scrolling thing? Edit2: Formatting
	[WP] You’re walking in the woods, there’s no one around and your phone is dead. Out of the corner of your eye, you spot him, Shia LaBeouf.	I stared at him, silent. I gave a quick and shy wave, smiling. He got on his knees. Worried, I started looking around. My car... Where was it? I thought it was just a few feet away... I turned around, and yelled. There he was, running at me on all fours, blood covering his face. His hair waved behind him, and I started running as fast as I could. I tripped and stumbled and fell and could barely move from my terror. Within a few minutes, I lost him in the dark, quiet forest. But in doing so, I got lost as well. I'm not going camping ever again, I told myself. That's when I saw it. A small cottage, maybe around two hundred feet? I started walking, but then, pain seared through me. I looked down, staring at the bear trap that had captured my foot. I would have screamed had I not covered my mouth in fear for getting the attention of Shia LaBeouf. I took my knife and grabbed some medication from my pocket. I have chronic back pain, so I had some pain killers. I took them and waited ten minutes before I cut my foot off with my knife. Shaking, I leaned on a tree and took a minute to compose myself. I limped towards the cottage. I would have knocked had I not seen LaBeouf inside, sharpening an ax. It was soaked in blood. Sneaking behind him, I took the laces from my shoe quickly, and wrapped it around his neck. He started to fight, hitting me, but he had dropped the ax. He grabbed a knife, but I quickly snatched it from him and jabbed it into his side. He fell limp. I stared at his body for a few moments, the cottage silent other than my rapid breathing. I was safe at last from Shia LaBeouf. I grabbed the ax and headed outside. In the middle of my limping, I heard a click. I spun around. Shia LaBeouf. He was pointing a gun at me, his eyes dead and emotionless. That's when my fight-or-flight instinct kicked in, and all of the sudden, I had body slammed superstar Shia LaBeouf. I swung my ax in a blind hope for survival, begging not to be killed by the man. Suddenly, when he leapt to the left, and I swung to the right, and it caught in Shia's neck. When I opened my eyes from my swings, I saw it. He had fallen over. His head was rolling on the ground and stopped at a tree. I had killed him. I had just decapitated Shia LaBeouf.	As I was going to my Maps app, my phone suddenly went dark, and an empty battery symbol flashed in the middle. “Shit. Dead.” I muttered. The forest was cold, dark, and quiet. The only source of light I had was the moonlight spilling through the treetops. Every so often, I could hear the faint buzz of bugs or the occasional owl screech. But then, pure silence. This was silence unlike any silence I had ever experienced before. It was dead silent, and nothing was making a sound. Then, SNAP! A branch broke from behind me, my head snapped back, looking for the source of the sound. Nothing, it was too dark to see. SNAP! This time, from my right side. Sweat was starting to form at the edge of my hair, and fear was beginning to take over. SNAP! From my left side, and that’s when I saw him from the corner of my eye. Shia LaBeouf. “Shit, man! Are you lost? I can help you get out of the forest, my cabin’s just up ahead.” He said nicely. “I could use some help getting out.” We both laughed lightly. After we made it to the cabin, Shia told me about the cabin, that he had bought it to escape the craziness of the world. And that the road back to town was rather close. “But yeah, if you need me to, I can drive you back to town.” “That’d be nice, I think my car ran out of gas a mile or so back.” “Brutal.” As we were driving back to town, I told him about the forest. “You heard... nothing?” “Nothing at all. It was like pure silence, and then it was broken by you breaking the all those branches as you walked over.” He looked at me, confused. “I never broke any branches.” “Huh? Oh, I guess I might’ve heard things.” Shia laughed lightly. After five more minutes, we reached the edge of the town, where Shia dropped me off in front of a diner. “Have a good one, my friend. Also, don’t tell anyone I live here.” “Will do.” He smiled, nodded, and drove off.
	[WP] Every time a person steals something illegally, money is automatically taken from them and put into the account of the owner of the item equal to the minimum amount the person would have sold it for. You wake up with $27 billion in your account	The rich just take what they want. It's always been like that, but now there's no way to say no. It started off before the War in a place called China with something called a "social credit system." Soon after tracking all 1.3 Billion of their citizens behavioral patterns, they realized they couldn't do anything to stop them from doing what they wanted, but they could put a price on it. After the War, in the dust and debris of what was once a beautiful world, the survivors came together to try and build a peaceful new society. We didn't even need a name for this new government because all the old ones had been destroyed, and all that was left was to move on as best we could in the few habitable places left on our planet. Now, there isn't a second of the day where you aren't under surveillance. With a couple million people, a few super computers that used to run the nuclear simulators, and nano-cameras everywhere, it's easy for the government to keep track of everything we do. They just don't have the man power to do much about anything other than fine people. You jaywalk, you get fined. You put your trash in someone else's trashcan, you get fined. You rape someone, you get fined. Those fines go to help build roads and digital infrastructure and everything the government wants to do with it. However, part of those fines get sent back to the victim. Generally equivalent to what one would pay for whatever was stolen from them. So if your bike gets stolen, it's a minor inconvenience, but if you don't want to sell your beloved family heirloom, they can just fucking take it. If you don't want to have sex with someone, they can just rape you and the government just takes what they think you're worth out of their bank account. This is the world we live in. I wouldn't even be explaining this to you if it weren't for the fact that I'm just some scattered brain old fogey who remembers what life was like before the War. This morning, after a shower and my meds, I picked up my phone and walked out of my apartment. Work's been slow, so I don't have a lot in my bank account. Being an insurance salesman isn't too lucrative these days. I had to sell my car to keep afloat, by work is just a mile or two away. As I was walking down the stairs, I checked my bank account. $27,000,000,000. I didn't have that much yesterday. I muttered under my breath, the fucking neighbor kid must have stolen my bike again.	BEEP BEEP BEEP Instantly I rose, fumbling for the phone to hit snooze. "Five more minutes," I said to no one in particular, considering I was alone. As I lay back down, preparing myself with a desperately false hope for the beautiful dreams that would most definitely await me over the next five minutes, I noticed something off. The room was empty (besides myself of course, which is empty for all intents and purposes). It shouldn't be empty, I should have my usual company. I bolted back up, grabbed my previously despised cellular device, and after four furiously fast attempts finally got my passcode correct. With a few swipes and a tap I was there, the banking app, and my account showed what I feared: $27 billion dollars deposites as of 4:00 AM. A sour taste filled my mouth, and I almost vomited with disgust: was it worth $27 billion dollars to give up my baby girl?
	[WP] You’re at the Renaissance Festival. As you’ve never had your cards read, you decide “why not?” As the psychic lays down the last tarot card, she asks if you’ll excuse her. In the background, you hear her on the phone saying, “You won’t believe this. I found him.”	The sky was overcast, clouds just thick enough to prevent the sun from being an annoyance, but not thick enough to threaten the world with rain. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, enjoying the weather. Peony, my best friend and the one who dragged me to the Ren Fair, hooked her arm around mine and laughed at something. “Hey,” she said, nudging my shoulder. “Wanna go get your fortune told?” I opened my eyes and followed her gaze to a purple and silver tent with a small sign advertising psychic readings. “Why not?” I replied. “It ain’t New Orleans, but fuck it.” “Ha! Seriously?” Her smile didn’t fade. “Okay, let’s go.” She pulled me towards the tent, opening the flap wider so we could both fit through. Inside the tent was a small wooden table with a red and purple cloth and two piles of cards on top. On the other side sat a woman with straight black hair pulled into a ponytail, who was playing a game on her phone. “I only do one at a time,” she said without looking up. Periodically, tinny screaming sounds and the clash of metal on metal came from her phone, like itty bitty little warriors fighting. “Oh.” Peony looked up at me. “I’m gonna go get us some more beer, and you can do yours.” “Alright,” I said, but she’d already turned and left. I eyed the fortune teller, who seemed... ordinary. She put her phone in her pocket and smiled at me. “Not what you expected?” I ducked my head to hide my blush of shame. “I may or may not have expected a curly haired woman with a Romanian accent and too much jewelry.” She laughed. “Yeah, it’s a thing, apparently. I’m not even Rromani.” She clapped her hands together. “You ready?” “Sure.” When she gestured to the chair in front of me, I sat. “So do I ask you a question?” “You can. Or I can just do a basic reading, where you draw a card from this deck,” she pointed to the smaller pile of cards, “then shuffle this one eight times, split it into three decks facing down, and draw the top card.” The second set of instructions was aided by her pointing to the much larger set of cards. “What’s the difference between the basic reading and one where I ask you a question?” She smiled. “Time and detail, mostly. And the price. A basic reading is $5, a more intricate spread costs $12.” “Basic it is.” She laughed and spread the small pile of cards. “Just pick one?” She nodded, and I hovered over the cards for a moment before flipping one. “Justice,” she read aloud. “That one’s pretty straightforward—it means you’re a just, fair, or truthful person.” She pointed to the other deck. “Now shuffle this eight times,” she began, but I nodded. “Three piles,” I said. She nodded in response. I shuffled sloppily, unused to the large cards, then cut them into three decks and drew the top cards. “The Ace of Wands,” she named the first. “This means that, physically, you have power, or the potential for power.” I looked down at my body—it wasn’t the greatest, but I wasn’t a slouch either. “Definitely just potential,” I said with a smile. I drew the second card. “The Three Of Wands,” she said. “It means you’re mentally prepared for what’s to come, or you have great foresight.” I drew the third card, and the psychic actually winced. “What? It’s not like it’s Death,” I said. The card was labeled as the Eight of Cups, and it was upside down. All I knew was upside down usually meant bad. She gave me a pained smile. “Will you excuse me one moment?” Before I could even respond, she stood up and went to the back of the tent, pushing aside the cloth layers and pulling her phone to her ear. Bewildered, I looked back down at the cards, but they had no answers for me. “Tabitha, it’s me. You won’t believe this—I found him.” The psychic’s voice carried through the fabric of the tent, and I frowned. That can’t be good, I thought. Is she talking about me? “Yeah, he came in to have his fortune read. It’s him, I swear.” Well that settles that. But what was I supposed to do? Run? It’s not like she threatened me. What was she gonna do, kidnap me? “Okay. Run every red light you have to.” She re-entered the tent with a smile. “Sorry. Um. So, where were we?” “Did you just—” I began, but how could I finish that sentence? I had no idea the significance of what she’d said. “Oh, you uh... you heard that, huh?” I gestured at the tent around me. “Cloth is not a soundproof material.” She sighed. “Okay, I’m sorry. I did a reading for my friend a few years ago. She asked about her soulmate, and... well, everything in your spread says it’s you.” I blinked. “And you really put so much stock into this that you would encourage your friend to break the law over it?” She sat back down in her chair and fiddled with the tablecloth. “Tabitha is a great girl,” she said with less enthusiasm than I would have expected. “She just...” She sighed again. “She’s been torturing herself for months because she thought her ex-boyfriend was the best thing that ever happened to her, despite the fact that he cheated on her. I’m just hoping that if she sees you and likes you, she’ll feel better about herself.” I cocked an eyebrow and crossed my arms. “So you’re using me.” She laughed and pulled her phone back out. “She’s really smart, and funny, and she likes outdoorsy stuff and sports so she’s fit.” She held her phone up, showing me a picture of a brunette with sparkling blue eyes and a killer smile. She even had dimples. “So it’s not like it’s gonna be torture for you to meet her.” “Okay,” I said. “Fair enough. I’ll give it a shot.” “That’s all I’m asking,” she said, but she looked relieved. “So what does the last card mean?” “Oh! It means you’re spiritually experiencing a feeling of complete hopelessness or abandonment, or you’re walking away from your spiritual needs.” “Oh, is that all?” I laughed. “I don’t really believe in all of this,” she said, gesturing to the cards. “But Tabitha does, and that’s what matters.” I nodded, considering. Honestly, the reason I’d never had a reading before was I was afraid that the cards would be accurate, and I’d have to face some ugly truths. The fact that the cards didn’t lie... it shook me up. To the point where I waited in that tent for half an hour, just to meet this Tabitha girl. As soon as I saw her, it was like the sun had finally risen on my life. Before that moment, I’d never believed in love at first sight. But Tabitha changed me in more ways than I can count. So, kids, that’s how I met your mother.	Never really believed in the supernatural, didn’t have enough evidence. I saw the psychic tent and figured, eh why not? May as well go for the shits and giggles. “The past, present, and future converge here young one.” Hey, I’m almost 18 now! “Aren’t you curious as to what befell you and what will come next?” Yeah yeah, the regular nonsense. “Tell me my fortune.” She gestured for me to shuffle the deck, something I was never quite good at, but I managed, she didn’t look too impressed though. “The first card is your past, the burdens that you carry. Lay it in front of you.” The card is a wizard looking guy, I put it down on the left. “The next tells your current state, strong or weak, all is revealed.” The card is a lion, at least, in pretty sure it’s a lion. “The last is the future that shall come to meet you, ready or not, willing or not.” The last is a tower of some sort, very ominous and spooooky... Okay, I guess I get my deepest secrets revealed and my future told now or whatever. I look at her, waiting for her to say something, but she’s staring at the deck in my hands. She reaches her hand out and draws the next card, laying it down on her side of the table. Her eyes widen and she excused herself for a moment. I thought I was gonna get my fortune read, I have no idea what these cards mean. Whatever, I set the deck down on the table and head out, but not before something catches my attention. “You won’t believe this. I found him.” Weird. May as well explore the rest of the fair, a lot of this is too expensive for me though. But it’s fun to look. I head off in a random direction, letting luck decide the next attraction, but a roar is let out somewhere behind me. It startled me, but just because I wasn’t expecting it, probably some sort of animal attraction or whatever. I ignore it until I hear it again and a stampede of feet behind me. Turning around I see something I didn’t think existed. A dragon. The crowd rushes behind me and I move to follow, but the dragon blows a wall of fire to cut me off. Shit. “The fuck do you want from me?” Maybe it wants to talk? Perhaps it wants to ask direction? Nope, it sure fucking doesn’t. I roll to the side to avoid being bit in half, and I rolled right into a weapons shop, convenient. The shopkeeper is huddled in the corner, hiding I presume. I spot a simple bastard sword on the wall and take it down. “I’m gonna borrow this. Thanks.” I don’t hear a response and I’m already outside facing the dragon again. “Alright, come at me.” The head moves backward and lunges forward, straight at me. If you were to stop time and ask me, hey the fuck are you doing? That thing is at least three times as big as you and probably a trillion times more deadly, I would probably give you a very stupid, very nonsensical response. “I’ve always wanted to kill a dragon.” I roll again to the side, repositioning myself to strike at whatever target area is available. I find myself right next to it’s eye, and my sword finds itself directly in the dragon’s eye. I quickly rip the sword out and the dragon roars to the sky in agony, the remaining eye glaring at me in anger. I ready myself to roll to the side again but find myself oddly disappointed as it flies off. If you’re gonna attack me and interrupt my time off you could at least finish the fight, whatever. Is that really what I should be worrying about? I did almost get killed by a dragon... It was fucking awesome though, so worth it I guess. The psychic from before runs up to me out of breath, does that mean she ran toward the giant fire breathing dragon? Not that I have room to talk. “Y-you really are the chosen one.” She pants. Well, at least this will probably be more fun than my job. - Hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think, I’m always looking for tips. (Except sometimes when it hurts.)
	[WP] Your whole life has been dedicated to your craft. After fifty years you hear a voice: "You have reached the max level in this skill. You have fifty unspent skill points."	Renaud collapsed against the glass window and sat motionless for a moment. Slowly gathering his senses, his bloodshot eyes glanced across the wreckage of the office. A shiver crept upon his naked body, much like the wave of realisation which was to come soon after. First came the muscle spasms then came the beginnings of what was to be another terrible migraine. How could this be? He had travelled West and was convinced that the cure had worked, that these episodes were to be no more. What was once a burly man, now sat a pathetic human being, curled up sobbing on the floor. Renaud had tried to end his own life before hearing about a clinic on the coast. The process was meant to take him under a week but he was kept under The Doctor's supervision for just under two months. Renaud's treatment was excruciating, but nothing was more painful to him than having the blood of innocents on his hands. For the small, broken man had just killed again. His surroundings were pure carnage. Mangled desks, cabinets, bodies filled the floor. Without his glasses Renaud was as blind as a bat, but even though his vision of blurry redness he was able to decipher the body count. 20? Maybe even 30? And that was just this floor. Unbeknown to him, he had made it up to the 21st floor of the tower block. Tonight may very well turn out to be a record. As the sun began to rise on the horizon, Renaud felt uncomfortable change. Usually daytime was under his control, but suddenly the muscle spasms were back. Lunging forward away from the window, he let out a blood-curdling scream. Yet this was no ordinary scream. It was a blood-curdling howl. "You have reached the max level in this skill" Lycanthropy - 10 * &#x200B; If for a reason this script satisfied your sadistic soul, creep on over to r/SinisterScripts for further twisted tales.	Hell yeah. Hell fucking yeah. It's time to put points in the things I've been avoiding! 2 in swimming, pools no longer mocking! 3 in knitting, sewing is not a problem 4 in skating, no more knees a breaking 5 in faking, you'll never crack my lying 6 in flying, I'll reach the sky and more see 7 in writing, I'mma be the best there'll ever be 8 in fighting, now I'm straight black belting 9 in math - that is not a task now 10 in fencing, do it without a mask wow 4 points left I'll just them back in poetry &#x200B; Ok voice, I spent the points Hit the bell, run the siren I know I bought the special edition and I can do addition Now turn that shit back again like it's skyrim &#x200B;
	[WP] Your whole life has been dedicated to your craft. After fifty years you hear a voice: "You have reached the max level in this skill. You have fifty unspent skill points."	Nothing compares to the joy he feels right now. Sitting on this rusty park bench, stretching a payphone wire to it’s absolute limit. He’s tapping his feet, trying not to whistle. People pass without a look like always, but this time…this time he doesn’t feel like a bum. He clutches his almost-empty bag, squeezing it tight. His next paycheck always feels like a ghost—he doesn’t know where it is, and if it’s real or not. But maybe after today, if this woman on the phone can be trusted, if her excitement about the book is genuine, things might change. So much doubt, so much hate. A family that turned their back on him for refusing to “grow up” and a slew of girlfriends who got sick of him crashing on their couch. Hell, even society ran away from him. All because he was born a writer. “And, well, I don’t really got much else,” the woman says, laughing. “How’s it feel to have your first book published?” “At fifty years old? Amazing.” A minute or two of idle conversation pass before she hangs up. When she does, he resists the urge to jump into the air, or call his family and brag. No, he’s gonna be happy but cautious. This is just book one, after all. He’s been waiting his entire life for this moment. As he stands up, though, he hears a strange noise. It’s almost like a…ding. Like somebody rung a bell right next to his ear. He looks around, but nobody's nearby. Suddenly, there’s a flash of light which makes him shield his eyes, and a god-like voice booms in his head. “MAX LEVEL REACHED. FIFTY SKILL POINTS TO SPEND.” When his vision returns, he’s shocked to see three huge blocks floating in front of him with hundreds of small blocks shoved inside them. They look almost like…skill trees. One reads: “The Bestseller." “Classic Maker” and “Prolific Wiz” the other two. He takes a step forward. “What the…” Instinct tells him to reach out and touch the first block in Bestseller. When he does, it glows. A ticker pops up saying he just spent a skill point, forty-nine left, and a box pops up next to the skill, reading: Editing skills 1 – Learn to easily fix simple spelling mistakes and revision techniques. Trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach, he clicks another one: Fast writing! Increase capacity from two thousand words a day to four thousand! With this, he can finally achieve his dream. Not only will this first book because amazing, he can bang out hit after hit! But…does this mean…did it take so long to get published simply because he hasn’t been upgrading his skills? … “Oh, goddammit!” *** If you like this story, check out my sub! /r/LonghandWriter	Hell yeah. Hell fucking yeah. It's time to put points in the things I've been avoiding! 2 in swimming, pools no longer mocking! 3 in knitting, sewing is not a problem 4 in skating, no more knees a breaking 5 in faking, you'll never crack my lying 6 in flying, I'll reach the sky and more see 7 in writing, I'mma be the best there'll ever be 8 in fighting, now I'm straight black belting 9 in math - that is not a task now 10 in fencing, do it without a mask wow 4 points left I'll just them back in poetry &#x200B; Ok voice, I spent the points Hit the bell, run the siren I know I bought the special edition and I can do addition Now turn that shit back again like it's skyrim &#x200B;
	[WP] A beggar is singing "If you're happy and you know it, clap your hands," on a busy street. You stop and give him some change, clap your hands, and smile. He looks at you and also claps his hands and says, "You pass." Everyone on the street freezes except you two.	I take 2 steps before i hear him. "...but.....yooouuuuu liiieedd" he chuckles menacingly. "do you not have enough to be happy about? " he asked "maybe if i take what makes you happy you will realize how happy you actually were" he clapped once, and the world resumed. what just happened, and why do i feel like i just made the worst mistake of my life.	He peels back his skin revealing a handsome man with golden hair. "I am the god of death, and you just won immortality!" He screams as camera's appear from the sky. "Your life as been a great show to the people down in hell so we decided to give you infinite seasons!" "So am i dead?" I ask the god. "Yes! This is your tourcher, and you will be stuck here forever! Anyway, ghy'th upok. Or as you say, burn in hell!" He flies of and i am left alone in the streets full of people that don't exist.
	[WP] A beggar is singing "If you're happy and you know it, clap your hands," on a busy street. You stop and give him some change, clap your hands, and smile. He looks at you and also claps his hands and says, "You pass." Everyone on the street freezes except you two.	In a sudden, blinding flash of light the ground beneath my feet falls away and I feel as though I am soaring through the heavens. Abruptly I am stopped and as my eyes return to normal something hurtles by. "W...was that a satellite? Where the hell am I?" I think to myself. I look around and realize that I am in a clear sphere roughly thrity feet across and currently orbiting Earth. "Hello?" I call out only to be greeted by my echo. I feel a presence behind me suddenly and turn only to be face-to-face with the beggar. His leathery, wrinkled face showing a toothy grin. He begins to laugh while repeating "You passed... you passed... you passed." "Passed? Passed what? Where are we? I demand that you take me home this instant!" I reach for the beggar's collar but he steps away before I can grab him. "You want to go home? Foolish mortal, this... this is your home now." he cackles and points a crooked, wrinkled finger towards the Earth. "Look, there is nothing left for you there!" I turn just as the entire planet goes dark for a moment before the atmosphere ignites sending a sheet of white-hot flame across the entirety of the planet. "Everything... everything is gone." My voice trembles as I sink to my knees. "My family, my friends, everything." A firey rage begins to course through my veins as I start to turn to rush the cackling beggar. "You! You did this! Why? What do you want from me?" The beggar fell quiet, his face grew dark and a different, otherworldly voice came from his mouth. "You were the only truly happy person I could find on that wretched cesspool you called a home so I rescued you. With or without me the planet was doomed. I did you a favor, and now I need a favor from you..." The sphere went dark, the last thing I remember was my head hitting the floor. After what felt like an eternity I come to my senses to find myself on a strange alien world sitting on a mat with a cup in front of me. As if in a trance, the only words that come from my lips are: "If you're happy and you know it clap your hands".	He peels back his skin revealing a handsome man with golden hair. "I am the god of death, and you just won immortality!" He screams as camera's appear from the sky. "Your life as been a great show to the people down in hell so we decided to give you infinite seasons!" "So am i dead?" I ask the god. "Yes! This is your tourcher, and you will be stuck here forever! Anyway, ghy'th upok. Or as you say, burn in hell!" He flies of and i am left alone in the streets full of people that don't exist.
	[WP] A beggar is singing "If you're happy and you know it, clap your hands," on a busy street. You stop and give him some change, clap your hands, and smile. He looks at you and also claps his hands and says, "You pass." Everyone on the street freezes except you two.	"Well done!" the beggar boomed, in a suddenly strong and resonant voice. He gripped the brim of his stained and rumpled fedora, and the visage of the homeless transient melted away. His mangled fedora became a clean white hat with a broad brim that came to a point, his scraggly beard became long and flowing, and his shabby clothes became clean robes of gray and white. My jaw dropped in disbelief as I looked around at the crowded street, where everyone and everything around me remained frozen in place. "Well done...what exactly?" I asked, when I regained my voice. The wizard -- I mean, obviously that's what he was -- chortled merrily. "Done what? Why, you have proven your worth, my boy! In this dreary age of materialism, you have proven yourself to possess a good and open heart, and so shown yourself to be worth of inheriting the long-lost secrets of magic, which have--" "I'm sorry," I interrupted. "But...you made that determination how exactly?" The wizard blinked in confusion. "Well, you took pity on me in my guise as a poor beggar! Without knowing my true identity as the last of the great magi, you gave me both material and emotional succor." "Well, I guess." I admitted. "But that's one nice thing. You don't know me. Maybe I'm a total jerk, but I conned some woman with low self-esteem into sleeping with me last night, so I was in a good mood." His bushy white eyebrows shot up in alarm. "Is that the case?" "Of course not!" I replied, almost defensively. "My point is, I could be, though. Or I could be a drug dealer -- they do charitable stuff all the time, you know? It helps discourage the poor people in the neighborhoods they live in from cooperating with the police. Or maybe I'm a serial killer who just scratched my psychotic itch by stabbing someone to death in a back alley yesterday, so I've got an extra spring in my step. Judging my whole character based on one good deed is almost as wrong as if you judged my whole character based on one bad deed." "You're working awfully hard to talk me out of teaching you to use wondrous magical powers." the wizard observed. "I've got a good job." I countered. "I mean, I guess I'm not averse to the idea, it's just...look, I don't want to be judgmental, but this seems really irresponsible on your part." "So I shouldn't trust you with awesome magical power? You're not a good man, then?" the wizard challenged, frowning. "Well, I mean...look, I try to be. But, power corrupts, right? I have no idea how having magic powers would ultimately change me -- how could I possibly have any idea? Sure, part of me wants to say 'hell yeah' and go off on some magical adventure, but if I was interviewing for this like a job and you asked me what my qualifications for being a wizard were, I'd either have to say 'none' or else lie my ass off." I explained. "Come on, man! What if I screw it up and break bad Sauron style?" He nodded slowly, a smile creeping back onto his lips. "Hm...good points all, young man. Good points all." "Thanks." I replied, not knowing what else to say as I nervously took in the still-frozen intersection. "So...what now?" "Now?" he asked, as if it was obvious. "Why, now you come with me and I teach you to be a wizard." "Why?!" I exclaimed, throwing up my hands in exasperation. The wizard grinned, and tipped his pointy hat to me. "Because, my boy -- you just passed my real test."	He peels back his skin revealing a handsome man with golden hair. "I am the god of death, and you just won immortality!" He screams as camera's appear from the sky. "Your life as been a great show to the people down in hell so we decided to give you infinite seasons!" "So am i dead?" I ask the god. "Yes! This is your tourcher, and you will be stuck here forever! Anyway, ghy'th upok. Or as you say, burn in hell!" He flies of and i am left alone in the streets full of people that don't exist.
	[WP] A beggar is singing "If you're happy and you know it, clap your hands," on a busy street. You stop and give him some change, clap your hands, and smile. He looks at you and also claps his hands and says, "You pass." Everyone on the street freezes except you two.	"Well done!" the beggar boomed, in a suddenly strong and resonant voice. He gripped the brim of his stained and rumpled fedora, and the visage of the homeless transient melted away. His mangled fedora became a clean white hat with a broad brim that came to a point, his scraggly beard became long and flowing, and his shabby clothes became clean robes of gray and white. My jaw dropped in disbelief as I looked around at the crowded street, where everyone and everything around me remained frozen in place. "Well done...what exactly?" I asked, when I regained my voice. The wizard -- I mean, obviously that's what he was -- chortled merrily. "Done what? Why, you have proven your worth, my boy! In this dreary age of materialism, you have proven yourself to possess a good and open heart, and so shown yourself to be worth of inheriting the long-lost secrets of magic, which have--" "I'm sorry," I interrupted. "But...you made that determination how exactly?" The wizard blinked in confusion. "Well, you took pity on me in my guise as a poor beggar! Without knowing my true identity as the last of the great magi, you gave me both material and emotional succor." "Well, I guess." I admitted. "But that's one nice thing. You don't know me. Maybe I'm a total jerk, but I conned some woman with low self-esteem into sleeping with me last night, so I was in a good mood." His bushy white eyebrows shot up in alarm. "Is that the case?" "Of course not!" I replied, almost defensively. "My point is, I could be, though. Or I could be a drug dealer -- they do charitable stuff all the time, you know? It helps discourage the poor people in the neighborhoods they live in from cooperating with the police. Or maybe I'm a serial killer who just scratched my psychotic itch by stabbing someone to death in a back alley yesterday, so I've got an extra spring in my step. Judging my whole character based on one good deed is almost as wrong as if you judged my whole character based on one bad deed." "You're working awfully hard to talk me out of teaching you to use wondrous magical powers." the wizard observed. "I've got a good job." I countered. "I mean, I guess I'm not averse to the idea, it's just...look, I don't want to be judgmental, but this seems really irresponsible on your part." "So I shouldn't trust you with awesome magical power? You're not a good man, then?" the wizard challenged, frowning. "Well, I mean...look, I try to be. But, power corrupts, right? I have no idea how having magic powers would ultimately change me -- how could I possibly have any idea? Sure, part of me wants to say 'hell yeah' and go off on some magical adventure, but if I was interviewing for this like a job and you asked me what my qualifications for being a wizard were, I'd either have to say 'none' or else lie my ass off." I explained. "Come on, man! What if I screw it up and break bad Sauron style?" He nodded slowly, a smile creeping back onto his lips. "Hm...good points all, young man. Good points all." "Thanks." I replied, not knowing what else to say as I nervously took in the still-frozen intersection. "So...what now?" "Now?" he asked, as if it was obvious. "Why, now you come with me and I teach you to be a wizard." "Why?!" I exclaimed, throwing up my hands in exasperation. The wizard grinned, and tipped his pointy hat to me. "Because, my boy -- you just passed my real test."	In a sudden, blinding flash of light the ground beneath my feet falls away and I feel as though I am soaring through the heavens. Abruptly I am stopped and as my eyes return to normal something hurtles by. "W...was that a satellite? Where the hell am I?" I think to myself. I look around and realize that I am in a clear sphere roughly thrity feet across and currently orbiting Earth. "Hello?" I call out only to be greeted by my echo. I feel a presence behind me suddenly and turn only to be face-to-face with the beggar. His leathery, wrinkled face showing a toothy grin. He begins to laugh while repeating "You passed... you passed... you passed." "Passed? Passed what? Where are we? I demand that you take me home this instant!" I reach for the beggar's collar but he steps away before I can grab him. "You want to go home? Foolish mortal, this... this is your home now." he cackles and points a crooked, wrinkled finger towards the Earth. "Look, there is nothing left for you there!" I turn just as the entire planet goes dark for a moment before the atmosphere ignites sending a sheet of white-hot flame across the entirety of the planet. "Everything... everything is gone." My voice trembles as I sink to my knees. "My family, my friends, everything." A firey rage begins to course through my veins as I start to turn to rush the cackling beggar. "You! You did this! Why? What do you want from me?" The beggar fell quiet, his face grew dark and a different, otherworldly voice came from his mouth. "You were the only truly happy person I could find on that wretched cesspool you called a home so I rescued you. With or without me the planet was doomed. I did you a favor, and now I need a favor from you..." The sphere went dark, the last thing I remember was my head hitting the floor. After what felt like an eternity I come to my senses to find myself on a strange alien world sitting on a mat with a cup in front of me. As if in a trance, the only words that come from my lips are: "If you're happy and you know it clap your hands".
	[WP] You're a dark overlord who shows up to lay siege to a nearby kingdom, but find the gates wide open and a parade prepared for you. Turns out, their country is in such a sad state that being conquered would be an improvement. The Code of Evil offers no guidance for what to do in this situation.	After riding for 12 moons past I finally called my army to a halt. It took an hour or so for the stragglers to catch up, the slaves and women captured from previous conquered castles and towns. Or at least what was left of them. The riders at the back of the column came up to notify me that we were all here. I looked to my commanding officers and nodded. They all left to gather the fighting men behind my tent. "BOY. Here. Now." My squire almost tripped over his own feet, scrambling to get off the woman I had allowed him to have from our previous conquest. I treat him too well. Maybe it's time to re assert my dominance over him. "Yes sir? Lord of everything evil sir." I sighed heavily. The kid was stupid, but not too stupid as to forget his courtesies when speaking to his master. Still. He had to be kept in his place. "Help me don my armor boy, before I take away your little corner of my tent and make you fuck your wench out in the cold. And hurry up with it." I couldn't threaten the boy with much else, he was the son of one of my royal guards. And if the Code of Evil tells you anything, it's that you still need a loyal following. And there's not much my royal guard are scared of.. so fear isn't the tactic with them. It's respect. The rest of my following however? I command with an iron fist. Nobody will cross me and get away with it. That's why I'm marching this army to the 'Kings' city. He deemed himself king after slaying my predecessor. Now after years of brewing this plan, I'm coming to show him what real Evil looks like. The boy dragged the chest with my armor in, grunting heavily with each tug. "Helm first sir? Urr i mean lord of everything evil sir." I clouted the boy round the back of the head, not too hard but hard enough that he lost balance. "Boots first. Then greaves. Then chest. Then shoulders. I can put my own gloves and helm on boy. Do I look stupid?" I raised my hand at him again and him cowering was enough for me. He helped me into my armor and then ran over to the other side of the tent to fetch my weapon. "Your sword or war hammer today sir? Uh lord of everything evil sir." I sighed heavily again. The thought of this boy being my squire for much longer pains me too much. After pondering for a moment as to whether it would be a good idea to just knight him, a member of my vanguard no less. It would be an honour to him and his father.. and would rid me of this moron. "Sir?" "Boy. You have served me well. And tonight, I would like my sword. Here pass it to me." The boy brought the blade over to me and placed it gingerly into my hand. "Down on one knee." "B..b..but sir please." "You snivelling fool. Get on one knee before I do strike your head off." He quickly fell to one knee, lost balance and caught himself quickly and took a quick peek at me to see if had noticed. I couldn't have him around any longer, it was too painful. "I knight you, a member of my honourable vanguard. You will be part of the first wave in every battle hence forth." I touched the sword on his shoulders, trying my hardest not to slice down as hard as I could and end this mockery of my army. "ME?! Vanguard?! Thank you sir.. Uhh lord of every thing evil sir." I placed my foot on his shoulder and kicked him toward the door. "Go tell your father. You will be riding with them on first light." He scrambled to his feet and took off running. I donned my helm, black as night with a dragons head resting on the top. His tongue coming down between my eyes. I stuck the top of my helm in brazier to light the cloth in the dragons mouth. Added effect to keep the army terrified of the sight of me. I walked out of my tent to find my closest royal guard holding two peasants by the ear. My army stood at attention waiting in the background. "What is the meaning of this?" I thundered. "These two have come to.. surrender the town sir." "Ha. Surrender. I don't accept surrender. Your town will be burned, your women raped. Your children put to work." "Yes sir, as expected sir." "I will not spare.. wait what?" "Our old women and children are all waiting in our great hall for your arrival. Our men are building a statue of you in the centre of town. All our young women of age are waiting in the church for you and your men. We have no riches, our food is too scarce to feed even us. We put half our men to the sword weeks ago to save the rest of us. There are only 15 men left and they are all willing to march on the city with you." "What is this trickery? Do you think 15 men can get anywhere near me? You think I haven't dealt with assassins before? Put these men -" The other peasant cut me off. "Ha. I'm begging your pardon m'lord but our men are no assassins. They can barely hold swords, we just figure you can't be any worse than the 'hero' king. And we want to put an end to him just as much as you. Our town is yours sir." I glanced to my guard holding the men. "Execute him." My guard stuck his blade straight down through his neck and into his chest cavity. After some twitching and gurgling the man finally gave up and died. I glance back to his friend. "You will refer to me as Lord of everything evil, or end up the same as your friend. Now tell me, what's your problem with the king?" "Ooh, i like it. Lord of everything evil. Has a real ring to it. The king is a moron, lord of everything evil sir. He took all our gold and had a statue of himself made in the city. He comes around once a year to take all of our mead and take his pick of the women. He carts all of it off to his palace to have feasts and parties with his clansmen." "That doesn't sound too far from what I'm going to do to your petty town, peasant. Why would you want me instead of him?" "Well, lord of everything evil sir. We figure if we're going to have an evil cunt for a ruler. We may as well have one who admits it." The code of Evil did not prepare me for this. He accepts my rule through fear, so there should be nothing wrong with me accepting his defeat. But if I do I'll be liberating them from what they see as an evil ruler.. making me the GOOD guy. I pace back and forth my mind racing. Finally I come to a decision. "SQUIRE. HERE, NOW." After a minute of awkward silence the footsteps from the crowd start getting louder. Eventually out pops the red faced and panting boy I'd made part of my vanguard not twenty minutes ago. "Yes sir? Uhh i mean lord of every -" I removed my helmet and he stammered the last of my title. I looked around to ensure all eyes were on me. I placed the helmet on the boys head, covering his ugly face. When his confused eyes met mine I turned and walked toward the treeline bordering our camp. "You've been promoted."	“ General the gates are wide open , the enemy has surrendered it’s all ours.” Madigal said with enthusiasm for some reason it didn’t feel at appealing to me , I looked around to my men all with a prideful smile and stupid grain “ Retreat .” I commanded “General but it’s....” Madigal protested I glared at him and that was the end of the discussion “ Retreat !” Madigal shouted and the annoyed mumbling of men annoyed me more than I’m already irritated , the way back to my kingdom is long and my skin was itching for some fresh blood I was looking for any scapegoat Madigal might throw at me to vanquish my agitation “ General , Ayazon asks permission to speak.” Madigal said with a small glint in his eyes oh those eyes that sparkle when death is near are my precious pearls you could say my pleasure out of every kill “ Let him speak.” I ordered and in stepped Ayazon, an annoying ,loud, foul mouthed ,morally incomprehensible human “ My lord I . Speak on the behalf . Of all these men!” Exaggerated speech like always “ And what do the men want exactly?” I humored the little deformity in the planet we call mother Earth “ The men . My lord. Ask to which reason we didn’t sage that city ?” He asked and backed away when he saw me draw my sword , I grabbed the handle and lifted it to the sky , the sun reflecting on its blade but it’s not to my liking if it’s not red “ Because I said so .”I replied as I gave him a warning look that spelled ‘ speak anymore and off goes your head ‘ and not to my astonishment this man cannot spell “ My lord the land was there with open arms! Rice and armor was in the open , we could have all those women with lavishing breasts until we’re satisfied !” Ayazon said nothing surprising that all he wanted was the women “ See this ?” I pointed to my sword “ this only likes blood that is bound by the angle of death not spineless villagers that tremble by the mention of death .” I got down from my horse and walked towards Ayazon “ Actually, Ayazon are you afraid of death ?” My face inches from his “ heh....My lord it’s..” before he could finish I plunged my sword to his heart and backed from him as he fell on his knees my sword still in plunged in his chest “ If it helps , I would’ve killed you no matter what your answer was.” I whispered in his ear and twirled my sword in him as his scream got louder and louder until he was motionless, I pulled my sword out and looked at Madigal giving me a questioning look “ What ? “ I said and gave him a shrug, he took the sword from my hand and wiped the blood off of it “ Satisfied now ?” Madigal asked , I thought for a moment “ well it seems killing spineless humans isn’t that bad after all .” I answered to which Madigal eyes sparkled and gave a small smile , it’s time to find a new kill “ Gather the men . We are heading south .”
	[WP]You work at the adventurers guild and your job is probably the hardest of all jobs. You have to talk some sense into the beginners who think that they don't need good weapons and armors against goblins and other weak monsters.	I sat at the Wobbling Dragon waited for Hans to walk in. He was a new member of the King's Falls Adventurers' Guild, and there was several complaints the he didn't have proper gear. I was tasked with explaining to new member about the importance of correct gear when we get these complaints because of my sweet demeanor and knowledge on the subject. "Arturia Cornswallow?" A young halfing with a greatsword and armor two sizes too big for him was standing at my table. "Yes, please take a seat." I looked him over. He looked as though I was an orc who had chose him for there snack. "Do you know why you're here?" He shook his head quickly, throwing his hair to show a particular nasty scar on his neck. "Did you get fitted for you gear alone? It is much too big." He looked sheepishly up at me. "I borrowed it from a farmer when I left home. I'm sorry." "No, it's fine. We need to get you proper gear before you get any more scars. Hans, is that sword too big for you?" He nodded his head in affirmation. "Is it that obvious?" "Yes dear. Is your armor too heavy or does it just need to be smaller?" "Just smaller." I pulled out a notebook and jotted down the gear changes he needed. "Take this to Lucia next door and tell her to put the charges on my account. She will measure you and ask you a few more questions. Don't do any more adventuring until she finishes your gear." "Will do. Will I be in trouble?" "No dear. We just want you in proper gear so you are safe. Have a good day." "I haven't seen you in the hall. Are you also an adventurer?" "No. I'm the coroner."	"You're going to go fight goblins? And there's just the three of you?" "Yes. We're going to go slay those goblin pests holed up in the swamp northwest of here. We're just here to see what we've got to look forward to once we get back." I frown. "Right. For that you'll need... Four kite shields, at least one mail shirt and three sets of padded leather armor, four properly fitted helmets..." I do a quick head count. "and another man. Ah, one of your number fancies himself a marksman? Then you'll only need three kite shields. Though he should really get himself a proper crossbow..." Their leader smiles and shakes his head. "We won't need all that to take on some puny goblins, sir. We'll be just fine as is. Hell, I bet I could take them all alone with my grandpa's sword! And we have Rupert's axe!" He brandishes a battered shortsword of crude iron and his friend raises an oversized woodsplitting axe. Panic starts to set in. These fools are going to get themselves killed. "Well, you could at least buy a couple pairs of padded leather armor. It's cheap and..." It's too late, they're already gone. "protects well." I frantically look around the room, searching for something, anything that could help those poor souls. And just my luck, a renowned mercenary captain walks in. He is clad in a heavy mail hauberk and a flat topped helmet with cloth padding. He wears his steel, one of my best works, brazenly on his hip. "Sellsword! Good to see you. I was hoping you could help with my problem. There's some goblins in a swamp to the northwest of here." His eyes go wide and his jovial smile turns to a grimace. "I can pay you 800 crowns..." He speaks slowly. "Sorry, I don't think I can take this contract."
	[WP]You work at the adventurers guild and your job is probably the hardest of all jobs. You have to talk some sense into the beginners who think that they don't need good weapons and armors against goblins and other weak monsters.	I sat at the Wobbling Dragon waited for Hans to walk in. He was a new member of the King's Falls Adventurers' Guild, and there was several complaints the he didn't have proper gear. I was tasked with explaining to new member about the importance of correct gear when we get these complaints because of my sweet demeanor and knowledge on the subject. "Arturia Cornswallow?" A young halfing with a greatsword and armor two sizes too big for him was standing at my table. "Yes, please take a seat." I looked him over. He looked as though I was an orc who had chose him for there snack. "Do you know why you're here?" He shook his head quickly, throwing his hair to show a particular nasty scar on his neck. "Did you get fitted for you gear alone? It is much too big." He looked sheepishly up at me. "I borrowed it from a farmer when I left home. I'm sorry." "No, it's fine. We need to get you proper gear before you get any more scars. Hans, is that sword too big for you?" He nodded his head in affirmation. "Is it that obvious?" "Yes dear. Is your armor too heavy or does it just need to be smaller?" "Just smaller." I pulled out a notebook and jotted down the gear changes he needed. "Take this to Lucia next door and tell her to put the charges on my account. She will measure you and ask you a few more questions. Don't do any more adventuring until she finishes your gear." "Will do. Will I be in trouble?" "No dear. We just want you in proper gear so you are safe. Have a good day." "I haven't seen you in the hall. Are you also an adventurer?" "No. I'm the coroner."	Dwarven pride in their crafted wares is what some might call an immense understatement, and Thorgrim was no exception. The thought of creating such master pieces that could fell dragons and arch liches was what drove him from bed each morning. It was like pappy Buckswag had always said, "One doesn't simply make such figments of mythos without first honing the dull edges of a miryade blades, patching the armor of warriors from across the realm, and, most importantly, building a steady stream of clients to build up yer coffers enough to even afford the materials required to make the damned swords of dragon slaying on the first place!" While his cousins joined the dwarven clans crafting guilds so they could spend the next 50 years polishing the shite those old had beens had been churning out and trying to pass as "masterworks", Thorgrim had decided on a different approach. Instead of being a glorified walking polish rag, he would hone his skills on those who could not typically afford to spend a small keeps worth of gold on a single hammer. There were people clammering to get themselves killed everyday! And if his wares could keep even a few of them alive long to kill something of value then he'd begin to make a name for himself. His plan had been perfect. He had applied to be the armorer of one of the lower guilds in the not so far away city of Essen that had recently come across a goblin problem. Dwarven armorers come at a high price, but when he had pitched them his rather below market price, they had jumped at opportunity. He didn't care, he needed access to those lowly new comers to the adventuring trade. He simply hadn't anticipated one tiny problem. "How about that one." The frail boy, barely tall enough to see over the counter, pointed at the object over Thorgrim's shoulder. He followed his gave and slowly turned back to the boy. "That's a shovel lad," Thorgrim said in the most disappointed way possible. "It'll be enough to kill a goblin. I'll take it!" "Boy, that's not enough to kill the hangover I have. What'r ya gonna do, dig your own grave for him?" "Please, anyone can kill a goblin. Sally said so. I'm going to bring her the head of one." This sale wasn't worth the headache it was causing and a very real part of Thorgrim wanted to rid the world of this boys stupidity. "3 silver" "THREE SILVER!?" The boy said incredulously. "Does it shit goats too? "..What?" Was all Thorgrim could muster after several seconds of silence, dumb founded at the notion of such a magical enchantment. "For that price it had better!" Thorgrim thought better than to ask whether this walking tombstone actually had a use for such a feature. "Two silver and not a copper more!" "Boy this is a dwarven made shovel. You could dig through that think skull of yours and still have enough of an edge to kill this goblin that is absolutely going to gut you." "Bob's corner store sells them for 3 copper down the street." "Then go buy Bob's splintery shite you little heathen and leave me in piece!" The boy slapped 2 silver down on the counter. Thorgrim took down the shovel from the shelf and handed it over. The exchange ended, Thorgrim fealt the need for a stiff drink. He turned his back on the boy and headed from the back room. "What's your return policy?" Came the tiny voice from behind the counter. Thorgrim's left eye began to twitch. He whirled on the lad. He looked the lad dead in the eye, which was all either could really see of each other (he had no idea why had the counter made so high), and forced himself to remain calm. "Why would you need to return it. My wares will certainly continue to be useful for the rest of ye short life." "Well after I've killed the goblin, I don't think I'll have much of a use for a bloodied stick." Thorgrim's face contorted into a look of pure astonishment. "No returns. All sales are final. Leave." "But..." "Leave!" The boy furrowed his brow. "Gonna dig a whole and burry this stupid shovel in it." The boy said softly as he turned to leave. "And how would you fill it i... Bah at least he's gone." Thorgrim sighed as the bell stirred by the boys departure came to it's standard rest once again. This kind of exchange was not uncommon. In fact, it was all he seemed to deal with. The drove of morons that paraded through his shop on a daily basis was beginning to effect his sanity. He couldn't convince anyone that came in to invest in his goods that were actually worth their weight in gold. The daily post was filled with the grim details of adventures dying in droves at the hand of the expanding goblin threat. It was a strange set of circumstances. The more advanced and wealthy guilds refused to do goblin clean up duty, and the low level guilds kept sending mouth breathing green horns out equipped with shovels. It hadn't dawned on Thorgrim that these doe eyed dreamers hadn't the coin to afford decent wares. And even when they did, convincing them to spend a mild pot of gold on such wares to kill goblins was almost impossible. The bell chimed again. Thorgrim returned to the storefront, senses properly dulled from the dwarven ale he had stored in the back. The man who had entered his store stood roughly 6 feet tall, shoulder length black hair, a nose that had clearly been broken at least a couple times, and a smile that was missing a few teeth. "Good day small man! I come to sample your wares. What might you have to stop this goblin tied," the man bellowed almost lyrically. Thorgrim hated two things. Singing, and running out or ale. Being called small wasn't great either. The clothes of the man gave him the look of at least not complete poverty, so he tried to pitch the good stuff. "Well I have a number of items that will lop limbs and stop yer limbs from being lopped. For 10 gold I can..." "10 gold! Ha! No no good man. That's my whoring shinies. The reward for goblin ears is on the rise and I need to turn a profit!" "You'll be lucky to git a las to look yer way, tall boy, with the mug you be dragging around now. Dwarven armor will last ye for sometime. I sell a modest repair package as well. Should ye survive long enough to bring enough ears back fir yur whores to give you the time O'Day, you'll be more than plenty stacked to make this a real living man. Kill, loot, screw, repeat. I can guarantee for 15 gold to get ye started..." "You make a strong argument dwarf!" the man interrupted,"but I think not! How about that one?" The dwarf followed his gave. "That's a shovel." "Perfect! I'll take it!" Thorgrim sighed. "That'll never three silver.." "THREE SILVER!?"
	[WP]You work at the adventurers guild and your job is probably the hardest of all jobs. You have to talk some sense into the beginners who think that they don't need good weapons and armors against goblins and other weak monsters.	I sat at the Wobbling Dragon waited for Hans to walk in. He was a new member of the King's Falls Adventurers' Guild, and there was several complaints the he didn't have proper gear. I was tasked with explaining to new member about the importance of correct gear when we get these complaints because of my sweet demeanor and knowledge on the subject. "Arturia Cornswallow?" A young halfing with a greatsword and armor two sizes too big for him was standing at my table. "Yes, please take a seat." I looked him over. He looked as though I was an orc who had chose him for there snack. "Do you know why you're here?" He shook his head quickly, throwing his hair to show a particular nasty scar on his neck. "Did you get fitted for you gear alone? It is much too big." He looked sheepishly up at me. "I borrowed it from a farmer when I left home. I'm sorry." "No, it's fine. We need to get you proper gear before you get any more scars. Hans, is that sword too big for you?" He nodded his head in affirmation. "Is it that obvious?" "Yes dear. Is your armor too heavy or does it just need to be smaller?" "Just smaller." I pulled out a notebook and jotted down the gear changes he needed. "Take this to Lucia next door and tell her to put the charges on my account. She will measure you and ask you a few more questions. Don't do any more adventuring until she finishes your gear." "Will do. Will I be in trouble?" "No dear. We just want you in proper gear so you are safe. Have a good day." "I haven't seen you in the hall. Are you also an adventurer?" "No. I'm the coroner."	I barely even noticed him come in. He was small jawed teenage dwarf. His muscles still hadn't ripped apart any sleeves yet. He pointed at the melee weapon that was located lowest on the wall. "That wooden hatchet will.. da-da-do me well," the dwarf stuttered with a voice that sounded like it started from his nose. "I'm going to slay me some dragon poon." He sounded like he actually believed what he said. I couldn't help but smile. I took down the smooth handled, foot long, shaving capable, mouse killing machine. As I was swinging the mini ax through the air, showing off some hand speed, the dwarf got visibly excited. He took the ax from me, did a sweet front chop, and immediately sliced through his friend's finger. Blood gushed out like a water fountain. He sheepishly put the hatchet on the counter, picked up his friends finger, and headed for the door with an arm around his friend. He turned slightly and said, "so the healers across the street, right?" I nodded. "We'll slay that poon next time." "Yes. Yes we will." We air high-fived and he was out the door.
	[WP] While with a group of friends an ancient alien appears. It declares your friends to be the Chosen Ones, destined to save its homeworld. You aren't one but try to follow your friends through a portal. You end up on the alien planet generations after your friends arrived. They failed.	It’s an odd thing to think about--how we’ve been programmed, our entire lives, for this very moment. How many movies, books, television shows can you name where an all powerful being abruptly appears, names the Chosen Ones, and brings them in to save the day? All of them. It’s fucking all of them. Of course my friends didn’t question it. An alien creature had done what most people hoped would happen. Told them they were special. Magical. Told them they could make a difference, gave them a reason to leave behind they’re miserable lives. “You are to save us.” It had said, voice resonating with power, with knowledge. “You are the Saviors we have been waiting for!” We were excited. We were all excited, of course we were. Looking back now, I would have been just as dumb as them if I hadn’t been forcibly set aside, cast out. I would have rushed to save the day without a second thought. I never would have given a thought to the fact that the alien had never proven itself to be all powerful. Didn’t consider that it may not know my friends were not the beings it was looking for. A second thought was given though. It was a fast thought, a thought made in anger and horror and the fact that this always fucking happened to me. This time, I wasn’t going to let it. This time, I would be apart of the adventure even if I wasn’t wanted. Maybe someone else would’ve sat down and accepted it. Not me. Not now. I’ve been told I’m not special my entire life. Some two-bit alien with fancy technology and the ability to travel dimensions wasn’t any different from my bitchy school counselor or my disappointed parents. I knew what my friends didn’t--that I could make myself special. That it was my actions that made the difference, not some woo-woo magic bullshit. Looking around now, I wished I had stopped to tell them that. They had left me though, gone ahead without a backwards glance. They had been chosen and I had not, and any protests I had would likely have come off as “jealous.” So I ran after them, dead into that portal. I wasn’t even five steps behind. Five steps was enough. I don’t know how time works in portals--or really, how anything works in the dimension I found myself in. I had just gotten there. My friends on the other hand, had clearly been here a while. Five statues ringed a battlefield littered with smoking bodies, all of creatures I couldn’t recognize. The gore that surrounded me was inhuman enough to separate me from it--it was gruesome yes, but it just didn’t register like a human’s death would have. Like blood would have. No, nothing registered, nothing at all--until I stumbled up to a statue of my best friend’s head. The crack in the middle was rather impressive, almost as much as the tank-looking vehicle that had demolished it. The tank hadn’t gotten far--it’d been stopped right at the base of my other best friends statue. Her’s was still standing, some sort of blackened out magic crystal clutched in stone hands. “YOU.” Something boomed, directly into my head. “ARE BRAVE SHOWING UP HERE.” A dirty white mass moved around yet another statue--Jake, my mind identified after a stunned moment--and thudded it’s way towards me. It was roughly the same size of the statues, with shaggy, dirty fur. Horns curled out of it’s face, next to jagged, stained teeth. Looking at it felt like a puzzle, my mind automatically trying to find animals to compare to it. It failed. “THEY LIVED GOOD LIVES, THE OTHER CHOSEN ONES.” It continued, making its way towards me. I didn’t run--couldn’t. Where would I go? The only shelter around was the statues. The ground was filled with what I thought was weapons, but none I knew how to use unless I decided to try my hand at just throwing things. “WE WORSHIPPED THEM. FOLLOWED THEM.” It stopped before me, leaning down. “THEY HAVE DOOMED US ALL.” Of course they did. (1/2, though I have to leave work so there will be a bit of time before the second half is posted. Good prompt OP!)	School had been out for a couple days and I'd been itching for something to do, so I texted the group chat me and my friends were in. "Anyone wanna go to the forest? I'm super bored." Kalen: yeah dude, meet at yours? Jace: Can my brother come? My parents are out and I'm supposed to be babysitting even though he's 12. "Sure dude, yeah let's meet at mine and we'll leave when we're all here." Georgia: Coming!! We packed a small picnic and set out to the forest. The sun was shining and there seemed to be a thunderstorm rolling in, but it looked to be hours off. We'd be back by then. We were ambling about with Daniel, Jaces' brother, complaining about having to carry most of the food as background noise. Then a rabbit darted across the ground ahead of us. "Did you see that?" I asked. Jace answered right after. "Yeah, d'you think we can catch it?" I looked at Jace and he looked back at me, smirking. "Catch what?" We took off, sprinting after the terrified creature, not bothering to answer Georgia's question. It wasn't long before she and Kalen were sprinting alongside us though. "Guys! Wait up!" Daniel called, but we were all too caught up in the hunt. We ran for what felt like 5 minutes then stopped to catch out collective breaths. "Did you see where it went?" Asked Kalen, I shook my head in reply then looked to Jace to see if he saw. He shook his head too. Georgia was pointing to something with her eyes as wide as the moon, speechless. We looked to where she was pointing and saw a woman. She was bald and beautiful, clad in a skin-tight leather suit, frills down her legs. She seemed to be glowing a dim orange and looked slightly transparent. Must be a trick of the light. On her lap was the rabbit we were chasing, snuggled up against her like wild rabbits should be. She smiled shyly and turned the rabbit over, and it just let her. Relaxed and docile as if it were dead. And then the rabbit was no longer there. In its place was what seemed like a drone. A small, metal drone. "Holograms are ever so useful aren't they?" What? Did she say holo- "Who are you?" Demanded Jace. He was scared, that was Hus scared voice. She frowned and tucked the drone in between her breasts. "I'm called Hokfei, I'm on a mission for the good of my people, we are in dan-" "Hold on, are you an alien?" Asked Georgia, curious as the day we met. The woman was taken aback then adjusted herself. "Yes. I need your help, there is a prophecy on my world which for tells of four adolescent aliens who would save us from-" "Like an actual proper alien?? You're not just a random in prosthetics or whatever, right?" She smiled patiently but she seemed a bit annoyed. I was annoyed by Georgia when we first met too. "Yes, Georgia, I presume." "What, you can read minds?!" The alien made a deep humming noise which seemed to be laughter. "No, child, your names were mentioned in the prophecy." "What prophecy?" Asked Kalen, he looked completely calm. I wondered if he was, I hadn't known him for very long, so it was difficult to read him. I was thinking about the future and how the alien seemed to be able to tell it. I had always held the belief that the future is uncertain and nothing can be predicted. However, I had always held the belief that aliens didn't exist, so I was stumped. This must be a trick. Another hologram. But... We don't have the technology for holograms. And, why would anybody wanna play a trick on us? We weren't powerful... Or... Important. Meanwhile, as this thought tornado ravaged my brain, the lady explained the prophecy. "There has been a prophecy on my world for many years. Some even say its been around for decades, it for tells of fou-" "Decades aren't very long, must have been a fairly recent prophecy." The alien looked confused and then seemed to come to a realization. "Oh, no... Uh, our planets years are much longer than yours, the current estimate is around 23 times longer." We all nod. It made sense. "Anyways, it for tells of four adolescent aliens that will defeat the darkness and end the war that has been raging on for almost half a year. It's terrible, they're truly evil!" "We'll help you!" Says Kalen, ready and rearing for a fight. The alien looks victorious already, smiling widely. She opens her mouth but Jace interrupts, "The hell we will." Kalen looks to Jace with disappointment. "You boy, your name is Kalen, yes?" "No, I'm Kalen, he's Jace." Supplies Kalen. She nods, "The prophecy fortells you will help us, because our cause is good and fair. The prophecy for tells you four will help eradicate the evil Dext, responsible for bringing about and afflicting innocent people with sickness and plague." A silent moment passes as we come to terms with this new information. "If you're Georgia," she looks to Georgia, "And you are Jace," she turns to Jace, "And you are Kalen," her eyes briefly flicker to Kalen, then they settle on me. "Then, you must be Daniel." A wave of confusion hits me. "No, I'm not Daniel." And then it clears. I'm not in the prophecy. It didn't mention me. I wasn't meant to save the aliens' planet. "Daniel is my brother," Says Jace. She looks to me, the orangey leather clad bald woman, and she says, "well, who are you then?" "WHAT THE FUCK HOLY SHIT WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT THING???!!!?!" Ah, the fourth hero arrives. I look at Daniel. His acne ridden fave and neck, his short, thin frame and his stupid light-up sneakers. This was the fourth hero?! Come the fuck on. "Daniel, watch your language." Jace reprimands, not even bothering to explain. Grace turns to the alien. "What's your name again?" "Hokfei." "Daniel, this is Hokfei, her planet is in danger and we need to help her." "Help her?! But she's a thing! She's not human!!" I shook my head. Hokfeis' planet is as good as doomed. "All four chosen ones are here, I shall open the portal for you to step through, it will begin to degrade once all four of you a through and will close shortly after degradation begins." She takes something from between her breasts, its not the drone. It looked like an egg thing. She cracked it open and spilt the contents on the ground. It was a dark, oily liquid, and it begun to spear out and expand. How was it doing that? It expanded into a perfect circle, big enough for all of them to jump down into. "The portal can stay open indefinitely and will only close when all four of you have entered, please come quickly and bring your most effective weapons." Hokfei steps onto the portal and sinks into it. I watch as the oil climbs up her slightly transparent skin. Her smile remained hopeful as she stared at them. I would be cringing at the feeling of the portal substance. How did she keep her look of hope while she was sinking in that sticky black stuff? I shivered as the liquid crept up her neck. Why was it so agonisingly slow? Eugh... We all watched as the tip of her bald head dipped underneath the liquid, gone. No trace of her was left.
	[WP] You’re stuck in a time loop, repeating the same day of your life over and over again, you’re the only person who has realised this. You decided to figure out why. It turns out that someone with time manipulating abilities loses the love of their life that day, and they don’t want to let go.	I woke up, don't bother to get dressed, and instantly... Jumped out the window. Through my testing, I've figured out that I can easily survive this. This is my life. Damn. Broke my leg. That's only happened 26 times so far. Oh well, the third car along has it's drunk owner beneath it. It's mine now. Takes hours to drive to the other side of the country, so i'll just steal that guy's plane that's gonna land in 26 minutes and 14 seconds. A different route this time. Might get lucky. Oh nice, he's got a gun. Now he's dead. My gun now. This is gonna go well. The plane's here. This time I can shoot the owner. Nice. My plane now. Now I wait. Put some music on. His phone has one good track on it. Nice. I'm here. Wow. Unexpected. There he is, with his wife, ready to attack the one who killed her the last 4 times. I have landed. Nice, good angle from here. I wait 2 minutes, and there he is. I raise my weapon, and fire.... ... At his wife. I like this life.	I don't want to do this shit again. Every godamn day for... Christ knows how long I have been reliving the same day over and over, I leave my house at 5:13 with a cup of coffee and a bagel, drive to work and throw on my gray scrubs, I say hello to Debby (the ginger receptionist) and start walking around, greeting patients. Then, around 10 is when HE comes in, with his blue shirt and trouser looking all distraught, like he isn't the one doing this to me. He walks up to Debby and asks what room she's in (little bastard has to have it engraved in his brain by now) Now, the real kicker, this mother f-cker walks up to ME and asks me where the room is, and I have to play along or else this arrogant, selfish c-nt will completely flip his godamn shit and restart. So I point him to room 305 and there she is, laying on her bed, crying her eyes out and this sadistic f-ck starts comforting her, like he isn't making this happen, oh god I hate him. And then, it starts all over again, God I hate "Loss"
	[WP] All your life fortune has been balanced with misfortune: break a shoelace and find a dollar, get a big promotion and lose a relationship. For your birthday, someone has bought you a lottery ticket.	"Oh thank you Dallas." I forced a smile. "You know, really it's already pretty increadibly lucky to have the best friends in the world," I said to the group around the table, "and I wouldn't want to tempt lady luck by asking for more. So how about we all make a pact to share whatever money I get from this?" Silently, I sent up a vow to whoever was in charge that I would give any money I won to a charity; maybe that would be enough to dampen down the bad luck. I wanted to give away the ticket so badly, but as soon as I touched it I felt that familiar rush of good fortune that meant the universe had already granted me this one. The balance would have to be paid, one way or another. Might as well get it over with. "Marny, hand me a coin from my purse," I said. "and each of you, grab one. We're going to scratch this all together." Dallas laughed at me. "You're nuts, girl. It's just a cheap scratch ticket, those barely give out five dollars, if you're lucky." I had to hold back from glaring at him. Maybe you shouldn't have gotten me one then, I thought sardonically. "Yeah, well, my birthday, my rules. Here," I scratched off one number, "pass it down along the line. And get me a piece of that cake!" I would play it cool, I swear, I would play it cool, if I spread out the luck then maybe... Fiona grinned before passing it to Marny. "Well, we already have ten dollars worth. Maybe we can share a pack of chicken nuggets." I half-laughed with the rest of them. If one dollar was worth a broken shoelace, what was a thousant dollars? Or, god forbid... a million dollars? As it passed around the table, the grins kept getting bigger. Dallas got to ten thousand and whooped with joy. "I take it back, we are definetly sharing this! Unless I can really take this card back," he joked. Fiona gave him a friendly whack on the shoulder. "You wish!" she said. "Divided by the five of us, that's enough to pay off my car!" Phil reached over and quickly grabbed it. "Let's see if I can take this higher," he said. Then paused. "Oh fuck yeah," he muttered. I closed my eyes and started praying. One hundred thousand broken shoelaces, I begged, please just ten thousand little papercuts over the rest of my life... "Steph, it's your turn again," Phil said, handing the card back to me. It weighed five hundred pounds in my hand. I lifted my coin, knowing exactly what I would see. "Ten Million!" Fiona screached, looking over my shoulder. Everyone started celebrating. "We should go on a group vacation!" Dallas said. "Somewhere tropical." Marny added. "I'm buying a jaguar!" Phil whooped. "Or we could give clean drinking water to a third-world country?" I proposed. They all looked at me, a mix of guilt and dismay showing on all their faces. "... Can we choose what to do after we have our money in hand?" Fiona asked hesitantly. I looked at her. Maybe I should tell them, maybe if I just told them that I was certain something very, very bad would happen if we used all this money, maybe... "Wait a second," Phil said. "We don't need to rush. I mean we can all trust Steph to not spend all our money, right?" The others nodded. "And if she wants to spend her two million to help others, we should be proud of her for that, right?" Again, they all nodded. But that wasn't going to be enough for me. "No, I really think we should spend all of this on other people," I insisted. Because suddenly I saw what would happen, and I knew, I knew... Dallas went to protest, but Phil cut him off. "Let's sleep on it," he said. "The money won't go anywhere. We won't tell *anybody*," he looked at each of us in the eye, emphasising his point, "And tomorrow we'll cash it in and divide it up, and some of us will do the right thing," he gstured to me with a smile, "and some of us will buy fancy cars," he took a bow, grinning. We laughed nervously. "And no matter what, we can trust each other, right?" We all nodded, this time more certain. No, he was right. I was worried for nothing. Technically, the money still didn't exist. Technically, I haden't been hit with good luck yet. Technically I could rip this up and nothing bad could happen. But I wasn't sure about that. And I knew I'd probably be hated for a long while for that. So, foolishly, I didn't rip it. And when Phil woke me later that night, leaning over me, I just accepted that Lady Luck was well and truly a bitch. Because Phil was holding a knife. And there was already blood on it.	"Thank you, this is perfect!" The fabric of the dress bounced as I held it up to me, grinning from ear to ear. "Thank you Dad." He pulled me into a bear hug, giving me zero reaction time. I squealed. "Dad, you'll crush it!" "Oops, sorry" Sheepishly he pulled away, allowing me to hang it neatly off a nearby chair. "I'm glad you like it." "It's wonderful Dad, I'll have to wear it to dinner tonight." He was beaming from ear to ear. "Oh actually, hang on a tick." Dad held up his hand, moving towards the front door. "Silly me left your card in the car, let me just go grab it." I nodded, flopping down onto the sofa as the door clicked behind me. Daytime TV blared from the screen, some form of ridiculous talk show. It kept my attention briefly however, Dad re-entering the room and presenting an envelope. "Happy birthday sweetheart. Again." He chuckled to himself and got cosy beside me as I tore into the paper. "What did the cheese say to itself in the mirror?" Every single card my Dad gave me was a comedy one. This was no different, and he watched gleefully as I read the script aloud. I flipped open the card. My stomach dropped. I must've paused for a while because my Dad nudged me, brow furrowed with worry. "Alexa?" "Halloumi!" I blurted back, forcing a laugh through my teeth. The red slip of paper fell from the card onto my lap, displaying itself proudly. Setting the card aside, I picked up the offending ticket, glancing at Dad. "Though you know what I said about my luck Dad-" He scoffed, patting my back comfortingly. "Sorry dear, but you won't win the jackpot. Maybe £20. What's the worst that can happen on £20?" I mulled over his words. "Why wouldn't you just give me £20?" It was harsh, blunt, and I could see I'd hurt his feelings. "I- I'm sorry Dad, I just don't like to take chances with this kind of thing." He sighed, his chest heaving dramatically with the action. "But thank you, it's very thoughtful." I added, Dad placing a light kiss on the top of my head before standing and offering his arm. "Come on let's go for dinner."
	[WP] All your life fortune has been balanced with misfortune: break a shoelace and find a dollar, get a big promotion and lose a relationship. For your birthday, someone has bought you a lottery ticket.	"Oh thank you Dallas." I forced a smile. "You know, really it's already pretty increadibly lucky to have the best friends in the world," I said to the group around the table, "and I wouldn't want to tempt lady luck by asking for more. So how about we all make a pact to share whatever money I get from this?" Silently, I sent up a vow to whoever was in charge that I would give any money I won to a charity; maybe that would be enough to dampen down the bad luck. I wanted to give away the ticket so badly, but as soon as I touched it I felt that familiar rush of good fortune that meant the universe had already granted me this one. The balance would have to be paid, one way or another. Might as well get it over with. "Marny, hand me a coin from my purse," I said. "and each of you, grab one. We're going to scratch this all together." Dallas laughed at me. "You're nuts, girl. It's just a cheap scratch ticket, those barely give out five dollars, if you're lucky." I had to hold back from glaring at him. Maybe you shouldn't have gotten me one then, I thought sardonically. "Yeah, well, my birthday, my rules. Here," I scratched off one number, "pass it down along the line. And get me a piece of that cake!" I would play it cool, I swear, I would play it cool, if I spread out the luck then maybe... Fiona grinned before passing it to Marny. "Well, we already have ten dollars worth. Maybe we can share a pack of chicken nuggets." I half-laughed with the rest of them. If one dollar was worth a broken shoelace, what was a thousant dollars? Or, god forbid... a million dollars? As it passed around the table, the grins kept getting bigger. Dallas got to ten thousand and whooped with joy. "I take it back, we are definetly sharing this! Unless I can really take this card back," he joked. Fiona gave him a friendly whack on the shoulder. "You wish!" she said. "Divided by the five of us, that's enough to pay off my car!" Phil reached over and quickly grabbed it. "Let's see if I can take this higher," he said. Then paused. "Oh fuck yeah," he muttered. I closed my eyes and started praying. One hundred thousand broken shoelaces, I begged, please just ten thousand little papercuts over the rest of my life... "Steph, it's your turn again," Phil said, handing the card back to me. It weighed five hundred pounds in my hand. I lifted my coin, knowing exactly what I would see. "Ten Million!" Fiona screached, looking over my shoulder. Everyone started celebrating. "We should go on a group vacation!" Dallas said. "Somewhere tropical." Marny added. "I'm buying a jaguar!" Phil whooped. "Or we could give clean drinking water to a third-world country?" I proposed. They all looked at me, a mix of guilt and dismay showing on all their faces. "... Can we choose what to do after we have our money in hand?" Fiona asked hesitantly. I looked at her. Maybe I should tell them, maybe if I just told them that I was certain something very, very bad would happen if we used all this money, maybe... "Wait a second," Phil said. "We don't need to rush. I mean we can all trust Steph to not spend all our money, right?" The others nodded. "And if she wants to spend her two million to help others, we should be proud of her for that, right?" Again, they all nodded. But that wasn't going to be enough for me. "No, I really think we should spend all of this on other people," I insisted. Because suddenly I saw what would happen, and I knew, I knew... Dallas went to protest, but Phil cut him off. "Let's sleep on it," he said. "The money won't go anywhere. We won't tell *anybody*," he looked at each of us in the eye, emphasising his point, "And tomorrow we'll cash it in and divide it up, and some of us will do the right thing," he gstured to me with a smile, "and some of us will buy fancy cars," he took a bow, grinning. We laughed nervously. "And no matter what, we can trust each other, right?" We all nodded, this time more certain. No, he was right. I was worried for nothing. Technically, the money still didn't exist. Technically, I haden't been hit with good luck yet. Technically I could rip this up and nothing bad could happen. But I wasn't sure about that. And I knew I'd probably be hated for a long while for that. So, foolishly, I didn't rip it. And when Phil woke me later that night, leaning over me, I just accepted that Lady Luck was well and truly a bitch. Because Phil was holding a knife. And there was already blood on it.	Also inspired by \[WP\]([https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/9on7ya/wp\_john\_is\_a\_great\_friend\_of\_yours\_hes\_always/](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/9on7ya/wp_john_is_a_great_friend_of_yours_hes_always/)) &#x200B; John is a great friend of yours. He’s always there to put you at gun-point, stab you, or even steal your money. Yep, great friend. The greatest friend there is. &#x200B; You see, John doesn’t understand how your world works. A world full of ups and downs, misfortune counteracting fortune, perfectly balanced, as all things should be. &#x200B; The first time he put you at gun point was when you were a poor college student desperately telling yourself pain is temporary, GPA is forever. You were traumatized after he stole your phone and the little cash you had on you, but it was the day you unexpectedly received a perfect score on the most important exam of the year. &#x200B; The first time he physically harmed you, you were distraught about your medical bills. Stab wounds were painful; the fear of medical debt on top of student loans was even greater. &#x200B; The next day, you heard back from your dream company, and managed to negotiate a starting salary greater than you imagined. You didn’t report John. &#x200B; That’s the way life worked: lose a shoelace, gain a dollar. Unfortunately, that meant when you earned the big promotion you were longing for, you lost your girlfriend. Even though it was your birthday. &#x200B; You couldn’t stop crying. &#x200B; A somewhat familiar gun poked you in the back. &#x200B; “It’s John, my friend! Have you come to wish me a happy birthday?” you asked, sniffling. &#x200B; “What the hell? No. Give me your money,” John said. &#x200B; “You’ve mugged me so many times that we’re basically best friends!” You exclaimed. &#x200B; “Sure, happy birthday,” he said, handed you a cheap lottery ticket, and poked you harder in the back. “Give me your money.” &#x200B; You scratched it off. Winning numbers, you suddenly realized with dread. A million-dollar prize. You looked up and could only see the greed in John’s eyes. “Don’t you want to share the happiness, friend?” John asked. That was the last thing you ever heard. &#x200B;
	[WP] John is a great friend of yours. He’s always there to put you at gun-point, stab you, or even steal your money. Yep, great friend.	I've got a best friend. His name is John. John has been with me almost every day since I was a child. He's a funny guy. John sometimes pretend to stab me. Or point a gun at my face. But I know he's just joking. That's just the way he is – he is funny. Yeah, John is a funny guy. He disappears sometimes. I don't want to say it. But I kind of like it. I like when it's quiet. John talks all the time. He even yell sometimes. Or most of the time. But I still like him. Even when he's doing his jokes. We make a good team. I would never say anything else. Even though people tell me he isn't good for me. I like him. I want to play. I don't know why they would tell me that. Or why they make me write these letters. They're letters to myself. So hi future me! I want to play! It's kind of nice to write these letters though. It feels less lonely that way. My apartment is sort of small. It only has one room. It's weird to have the toilet next to the bed. And the bars instead of a wall. But it's nice I guess. LET ME PLAY NOW! The others tenants can be mean. But they mostly keep to themself. Sometimes John wants to joke with them. They don't like that. No one likes that. I always end up in the dark room when John wants to play with them. But he keeps doing that. I tell him to stop but he won't listen. WE NEED TO PLAY NOW! Why won't he listen? I thought he was my friend? We have known each other for as long as I can remember. We've always been inseparable. LISTEN TO ME! NOW! WE NEED TO PLAY! John is my best friend. And I hate him. Please help me.	"Hey, there he is! How you doing, buddy?" "What the fuck are you talking about? You know what, I don't care, gimme your wallet." "Hey, no problem, buddy! I gotta say, I love these little muggings. I'm so glad you can set aside time for me in your busy day." "Look, I don't know who you are or what you're talking about, but you'd better not tell anyone about this, or I'll fucking cut you, got it?" "Like old times, no problem, man. You know I'd do anything for you." Oh, you guys saw that? Yeah, that was my best friend John. Such a kidder, he pretends not to know me. Somehow he even beats me to a new city when I go on business trips. What a friend.
	[WP] One day, while going through your daily life, you notice many odd events occurring that seem to lead to a horrifying conclusion. The world you live in is fanfiction, and something tells you that the author isn't very talented.	I sigh as I pick up what remains of my coffee off the floor. "Oh bloody... I'm so sorry for bumping... let me help you." I shake the coffee spill off of my raincoat. The attire's a bit hot in the New York autumn sun but honestly, it's for the best. "It's okay, don't worry about it my dude." He pats me down, hands lingering just a bit too long for comfort, and then ruffles his own hair. He looks into my eyes and bites his lips. "Let me buy you another coffee and a scone, my treat." I walk past the winking man, sipping what remains in the cup. "Thanks bud, but I'm late for work." I pull out my five by five grid of British TV actors from the jacket Cumberbatch gave me to replace my coffee soaked one. I cross out Matt Smith, whose name was next to Jared Padalecki. "So close to bingo, so close."	I live near the lake. My life is not that simple even though I live like an ordinary person. In last 3 years I lost my wife, my dog and my favourite car. I don’t need to tell you details because they are not that important. I’m a special detective who finds people for money. Today, I’m going to big old mansion who’s owner went missing. His daughter paying me really good to find that filthy man. Her father were accused of murdering his own wife but there wasn’t enough proof to jail him. She said ‘Welcome handsome!’. Her blue eyes were looking very sharp and she had that look on her face that she was expecting someone else. It’s been a long time since someone called me this. Yes, I couldn’t say that out loud instead I said ‘I don’t have time to talk about things are not connected to this case.’ and I blew up the chance establishing a decent connection with her. There is no need for arguing wih myself...What am I doing... ‘This is the last place I’ve seen him’ she said. ‘You saw him inside of the pool?’ I asked. ‘No. He was standing near it and he was just looking to the water.’ she answered. ‘And you didn’t find that interesting?’ I asked. ‘You don’t understand because you knew him only from the news. Am I right?' ‘Knew? You mean he is dead?’ She started to laugh and she answered... ‘As a I said you don’t know him like I do. He seemed very strong and not caring. But he was very depressed when my mother died he didn’t eat for days. He didn’t speak with me, he was like a ghost. Maybe he is a ghost now.’ I find her statement very creepy and honest. But fuck you writer I’m not gonna deal with your shit. She is the murderer. She killed both of her own parents. YOU HAPPY NOW? --------------------------------------------------- Please don't mind any writing or grammar mistakes, I'm not a native speaker
	[WP] See that over there? That's a dragon... I dare you to punch it.	"See that over there?" Wynn said. "That's a dragon. I dare you to punch it." Lyssa looked at the mound of scales crouching on the dock beside the lake. The creature was about the size of a small calf, and its claws were swiping at fish beneath the water. "Dare?" Lyssa asked uncertainly. "She won't do it," scoffed Geff. "She's too green." "A dare is a good way to make a new friend," Wynn said to Lyssa, ignoring the older boy. "If you don't die doing it, you'll earn our regret." "Respect," corrected Geff. "She'll earn our respect." Lyssa hesitated, but they all knew she was going to take the dare. As the smallest child in the village, she could use a friend or two. Anything to stop the others from pushing her into the mud every time it rained. Squaring her shoulders, Lyssa strode over to the dragon and curled her fingers into a fist. She'd never punched anything before, and the creature was taller than she was. What if it hurt her in return? But as Lyssa drew her arm back, the dragon turned its head toward her. She could see that it had been crying. She could see images in its teary eyes, too, of other dragons leaving it behind for being too small to keep up. The creature didn't have friends either. After a moment, Lyssa lowered her hand and smiled tentatively. The dragon rustled its wings and made room for her to sit on the dock next to it. Together, they watched the fish swim in the lake until it was time to return to their homes. Wynn was right: a dare was a good way to make a new friend after all.	I looked to where the man pointed. Across the clearing stood the biggest lizard I had ever seen, the thing was the size of a church spire broken off and stood on it's side. My sweat palms groped my mug from behind my bush, I looked back at the lights from the party, laughing drifted down the hill and swallowed. I had gone too far to give up now, swallowing the last of my drink I looked him in the eyes. "Deal." I stood and strode to the lubering beast ignoring every nerve telling me to stop and turn around. The thing took notice of me and turned to face me and- it's gaze froze me in place ice trickeling down my back. Its eye was colder than the wastlands of the North. I stood like rooted to place by the magnitude of it's power. The beahemith shifted its weight and drageged itself around faster than something it's size should be able to. Time slowed. And it took a deep breath.
	[WP] See that over there? That's a dragon... I dare you to punch it.	Dragons don't care much for humans, but if you get their attention, they will at least give you time to convince them not to eat you. Derrick didn't understand that. We were sitting around, having a few beers after a long day of guarding the castle. We were in a secluded cafe, just outside the walls and sitting in the patio. I had just taken a draw on my beer when I looked up. A dragon had landed in the field between us and the wooded area. It was rather small in terms of dragons, barely 12 feet at the shoulder while standing on it's rear haunches. "Oh, look. A dragon." Derrick looked up and saw the creature. "Not much of one," he said. "Still, I'd rather not tangle with it." "What can something that small do to you. I bet it'd run scarred if you walked over and punched it." I must have been feeling the beer, because I immediately stood up and said, "All right. You buy the next round. I'll be back in a moment." I tried to swagger over to the creature, but my swagger was more of a stagger. I approached it, but it seemed to be ignoring me. I drew back, and, with all of my might, struck the dragon's chest. The creature looked down at me, and spoke. "I really wasn't planning on eating right now, but you'd make a nice snack. Why did you just strike me?" In my beer fuddled fog, it dawned on me it was brown trouser time. I thought fast. "It's the only way I could think of to get your attention. You see, my friend over there is springing for drinks tonight, and he said he'd like to share some brewskis with a dragon. You showed up, and I knew it was fate." "Cerveza gratis? What a quaint idea. I'll join you fellows." Derrick learned that night to never provoke a comrade, no matter how drunk they are, into danger. His money dwindled away to nothing by the second round, for, while we drank tankards, the dragon drank the beer by the keg. Derrick finally convinced the inn keeper to extend him credit by saying an angry dragon would likely destroy the inn, but the beer would pacify it. As we sat and talked, the dragon said his name was Phil, and spoke of how he really hadn't wanted to eat humans: He preferred the taste of beef or venison. He had a faraway look in his eye when he mentioned noshing on a great white shark some time earlier. We actually had a rather good time. Dragons have the same types of problems as humans: nagging wives, unruly children, and such. And then knights come along and try to slay them. Only thing they can do is cook them in their armor, but who likes Spam in a can. As he readied to leave, we all shook hands, with Phil saying he enjoyed himself and that, the next time, it would be his treat. He lifted his wings, crouched low, leapt into the air and flew off. Derrick appeared for work the next day with a large lump on his head thanks to his wife, who chewed him out for spending their money on getting drunk. His lunch was cold, toe nail clipping soup. As for me, I told the missus about it and so now, we make sure to sock away a two gold pieces every pay, because, while Phil is paying for the next round, my turn will be the following one.	I looked to where the man pointed. Across the clearing stood the biggest lizard I had ever seen, the thing was the size of a church spire broken off and stood on it's side. My sweat palms groped my mug from behind my bush, I looked back at the lights from the party, laughing drifted down the hill and swallowed. I had gone too far to give up now, swallowing the last of my drink I looked him in the eyes. "Deal." I stood and strode to the lubering beast ignoring every nerve telling me to stop and turn around. The thing took notice of me and turned to face me and- it's gaze froze me in place ice trickeling down my back. Its eye was colder than the wastlands of the North. I stood like rooted to place by the magnitude of it's power. The beahemith shifted its weight and drageged itself around faster than something it's size should be able to. Time slowed. And it took a deep breath.
	[WP] You have the ability to make someone speak the correct answer to any question as long as you say the wrong answer to it first; someone will always involuntarily state the correct answer. Today you said something you thought purposefully wrong...no one spoke.	It all started a few days before my graduation from high school, a lot of the people I shared a class with got together and threw a goodbye party to celebrate. It wasn't anything special, just going out to eat fish and chips down by Manly beach, and of course someone brought a few cases of beer and soda to share. It was all going pretty well, and we got to talking about exams. Now, I'm not much of a bragger, mind you, but I usually don't give incorrect answers. I mean, I do get some things wrong, but I don't exactly share that fact with everyone else. If I didn't know something all to well I'd keep it to myself, or admit I didn't know and wouldn't even try to guess. To me, nothing was more embarrassing than getting things wrong, and I didn't exactly get along with many people because I refused to guess if I didn't know. It would stress me out. But that afternoon, I had a few too many beers, and I didn't feel like being quiet about my thoughts. Even the ones I knew didn't sound right. So me, these two guys I've known since year 6, James and Eddie, as well as Eddie's twin sister Anna, were all sitting at the edge of the class party talking about future plans and study. James, after chugging a bit of his soda, asks Anna about how her exams went. I, innocently and drunkenly interrupted by saying she probably aced her exams like she usually does with most of her tests and assessments. What had happened next was strange, as Eddie suddenly dropped his can of beer and we all turned to look at him, wondering if he was okay or if he was gonna have a seizure, which wasn't unreasonable given that he was epileptic and we knew his medication didn't prevent all of them. However, it wasn't an episode, and what he said next was completely unexpected: "She cheated on the math and chemistry exams, and barely passed the rest" Anna's face went immediately red. I don't know what happened, or if Eddie was telling the truth, but what I did know was that something wasn't right. That was how I found out about my ability, but that afternoon didn't end there. Eddie then blinked and rubbed his forehead and groaning as if he just gotten a headache. "What the fuck was that all about?!" Anna yelled at him, and all she got was a confused stare. "uh, what?" "Don't give me that! What the fuck did you mean by 'she cheated'??? Who the fuck told you that?!" James and I thought it would be best to not get involved in a family squabble, and decided that it was Eddie's problem. We promptly left and headed toward the water. "Well, that got awkward" he joked, and I had to agree, that was completely unexpected and uncomfortable. After what felt like hours of silence, staring off into the distance and watching the storm roll in. "So..." I turned to look at him, wondering what he was about to say "... what are you planning on doing after graduation?" I thought about it, and shrugged. "Well, I'm thinking of taking up a trade, probably something as mundane as bartending or something. Might take a gap year or something..." I then noticed that same strange look cross James's face, with unfocused eyes and a flat voice, just like Eddie. "You won't take a gap year, you won't live more than 3 months". Shocked would have been an understatement. "What the fuck", I resisted the urge to punch him in the face for what felt like a threat. Afterwards he kept claiming he didn't know what he had said, infact to him he felt like he momentarily blacked out. I didn't talk much to him, or to Eddie, and Anna clearly wanted nothing to do with me. Later it was found out that Eddie was right, and Anna never got her graduation certificate. I couldn't forget what had happened and I was getting a bit worried. A week later, I wanted to test something. It felt insane, what I was about to do, but hearing James tell me I had about 3 months to live scared me the most. I talked to my brother, Guy. He was confused when I told him to ask me what vegetable I was thinking of. I went with celery, but I would purposely say carrot instead. As soon as the word left my mouth, I saw it - the glazed over eyes, unfocused, and the flat affect. He corrected me and told me I was thinking of a celery. I then tried again, the second time with color (I thought red, said blue, told I was thinking of red) and with numbers (I thought about the number 5, said 6, still told it was 5). He started freaking out at the end, but I wasn't done. My last question. I told him to ask me if I would die in 3 months. He wanted to sit down, and then with a shaky breath asked me: "will you die in 3 months?". I said yes. He said nothing. Not a single, goddamn thing. I slumped in my seat, James was right, Guy was right. "Alex, what's going on?" He was just as shaken as I was, his eyes were fully alert during that response, and he sounded like his normal self. I was scared of this new knowledge. "I don't know". I didn't have long to live, this was the truth. I wouldn't get to live life as an adult, grow old, live long enough to have a family, or find something I wanted to do in my life. I was doomed to die, and that was the truth	Dammit! I couldn’t for the life of me remember when the first moon landing happened. It wasn’t like I needed to know, but now that I was thinking about it, I just couldn’t let it go. So I finally cracked and spoke up, “the first moon landing didn’t even happen!” Then I waited. And waited. Perhaps they didn’t hear me? “THE FIRST MOON LANDING DIDN’T EVEN HAPPEN!!” Nothing. “Hello?” People gazed at me, their confusion evident. “The moon landing was faked,” trying my best to sound absolutely certain in my voice. Without any interruption, I realized I have a lot more to learn.
	[WP] You have the ability to make someone speak the correct answer to any question as long as you say the wrong answer to it first; someone will always involuntarily state the correct answer. Today you said something you thought purposefully wrong...no one spoke.	"Where is Captain Justice?" "Captain Justice is in this very room," I said, eager to discover where our hit team was headed. No one spoke. &#x200B; "Where is Captain Justice?" "Captain Justice is in this very room," I said again, this time with an edge of fear in my voice. &#x200B; "WHERE IS CAPTAIN JUSTICE?" "Captain Justice is in the Oval Office," I said , genuinely panicked. "Captain Justice is in this very room," said Mind Wave. With that, pandemonium broke out in the Hall of Ambition. \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\* My ability is . . . unique among my comrades. Some have super strength, others possess the power of telekinesis, a few even possess the ability to bend time around themselves. I have no such powers. What we all share, however, is a contempt for the status quo. For me, it has always been personal. My parents did their best to hide my ability, to ensure that no faction learned of me. They knew that all sides would be covetous of me if they learned that I held the key to answering any question they might have. Mom and Dad also knew that I was no more capable of defending myself against a super than any normie on the street. I grew up a quiet, scared boy. The government knows that kids who are kept out of school are likely have some power that makes them a threat. It wasn't long after The Change that they had shuttered the private schools and banned homeschooling in the name of "national security." Home births became illegal not long after. Every child born was in the system. Lucky for me, because my power was tied to speech, my parents noticed before anyone else. They taught me never to speak unnecessarily, to never state a fact I was not absolutely sure of. School was a very, very dangerous place. "I'm not sure" was my favorite phrase. Friends were a luxury I couldn't afford. I got by ok for a while. But one day, in the fourth grade, I tried to answer a question I was sure of. Did you know that, once upon a time, that Istanbul wasn't Istanbul? I didn't. Neither did Suzy Pickens. I could see how surprised she was when when the word "Constantinople" passed her lips. The moment I got home I burst into tears. I knew that my parents were going to be in trouble because of me. I knew that someone was going to take me from them. I loved my mommy and daddy more than anything, and I knew I was going to lose them. We managed to live on the run for three months. For whatever reason, the Justice Department found me first. They swooped in and captured me in the dead of night, a black-clad tactical team led by Captain Justice pulling me from a hotel closet. I clung to my mother as hard as I could, and mom and dad clung to me with everything they had. All three of us were crying and screaming. But the men in the black masks didn't care. They pulled us apart all the same. The last time I saw my parents, Captain Justice loomed over them, indifferent to their suffering. They were, after all, lawbreakers. I spent the next five years in a windowless CIA black site, trying my hardest to never speak a word. But between hunger, fear, drugs, and waterboarding, I helped the government bring down regimes, terror cells, and "villains" by the dozen. When the Ambitious broke me out, I assumed it would be more of the same. But it wasn't. I had a penthouse to myself. I had tutors. Food. Television. They gave me almost anything I could want, but never asked me for a thing in return. I knew what game they were playing, but I didn't care. If they wanted my help bringing down the Department of Justice, in bringing about a new age, they could have it. \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\* "Captain Justice is in this very room," said Mind Wave. Without missing a beat, he threw up his psi-shield around the two of us. Our leadership kept him by my side for just this sort of thing. Within seconds Torch was aflame. Freeze was frozen. Nightmare was, well, nightmarish. Everyone was ready to fight. They just weren't sure whom. "Why can't we see Captain Justice?" Leave it to Mind Wave to get straight to business. "Captain Justice is disguised as one of us," I blurted. I knew time was of the essence. "Captain Justice is miniaturized," Track Meet shouted from across the room. "Is Captain Justice inside my force field?" Mind Wave looked into my eyes. For the first time, I saw genuine fear in his. "No," I said. "Yes," said a voice on my shoulder. \_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_ &#x200B; r/CascadianExpat &#x200B; &#x200B; Edit I: By popular demand, Part II is below!	"My professor will kill me if I don't submit this assignment on time this week!", I squeaked, staring at the half written essay that lay on my table. I heard laughter in my dorm room, laughter that echoed due to the lack of furniture. Friends giggling from the corner of the room. But something seemed out of place. Nobody corrected me. One of them responded, winking at me. "Oh, you are so dead. There is no way you will finish it in two hours." I know.
Edit - Wow we made the front page, thank you for everyone that replied with their stories, I have had a lot of fun reading them all!!! Edit 2- thank you kind stranger for my first gold!!! Edit 3- 2 Gold's!!! Holy Shit, I honestly thought this post wasn't going to go anywhere but now it is my most upvoted post ever by far, and 2 Gold's Jesus Christ. Thank you again everyone that commented, upvoted and gifted the gold you are all special to me! 👌👌👌👌	[WP] Everytime you think of a funny joke, this girl in your class always laughs, you chalk it up to coincidence but you think to yourself, "If you can read my mind, slap the table three times" the the girl looks over at you, stares right into your eyes, and slowly slaps the table three times.	'If you can read my mind, slap the table three times.' I think and the girl looks over at me, then slowly, and very deliberately slaps the table. Once. Twice. Three times. Her eyes locked onto mine 'Tap once for yes, twice for no or three times for maybe' I think, immediately tuning out my professor and his inane rambling about something not quite related to astrophysics. 'Can you turn your ability on and off?' One tap. 'Are you able to select who you listen to?' One tap. 'Can you read deeper than surface thoughts?' Three taps. 'Can you meet me after class? Preferably somewhere quiet like the library' One tap, then a pause before two more 'That a maybe?' One tap. 'I'm afraid I'm not offering a choice.' I have her cornered in an alcove in the library. She's trying to act calm, but her glare and clenched fists say otherwise. "It's okay. I mean you no harm." I say but she doesn't look convinced. "If I wanted you hurt you would be." "Gee thanks." She snaps, almost before she could help herself judging by the visible wave of fear that washes over her afterwards. "I asked you here to talk to you. Calmly and in a civilised fashion. Because what you're going through only gets crazy from here on out." "What do you mean?' She asks, still glaring daggers at me "Powers like yours are immensely rare. There's a number of people who'd kill the entire university just to get a hold of you." "You one of them?" She spits at me, and now I can feel her actively attacking my mind. Agony lances through me as she randomly slashes and stabs about inside my cranium. "I said... I wasn't going to hurt you." I force out as I begin to collapse. I feel something give within me and darkness fades across my vision. Next thing I know I've come too on the floor and she's encased in a swirling miasma of darkness; like the light simply couldn't shine there. "What the fuck is this?" She asks. "My gift." I say as I stagger to my feet. "I control shadows." "Shadows are absences of light. You can't control that." "You read minds and question another impossibility?" I laugh, waving a hand to dismiss the mist that restrained her. "I didn't hurt you though did I?" "No. Now tell me more."	I'm a bot, bleep, bloop. Someone has linked to this thread from another place on reddit: - [/r/u_aleistergrout] [\[WP\] Everytime you think of a funny joke, this girl in your class always laughs, you chalk it up to coincidence but you think to yourself, "If you can read my mind, slap the table three times" the the girl looks over at you, stares right into your eyes, and slowly slaps the table three times.](https://www.reddit.com/r/u_AleisterGrout/comments/9rxkd4/wp_everytime_you_think_of_a_funny_joke_this_girl/) - [/r/u_bellatrixbourbon] [\[WP\] Everytime you think of a funny joke, this girl in your class always laughs, you chalk it up to coincidence but you think to yourself, "If you can read my mind, slap the table three times" the the girl looks over at you, stares right into your eyes, and slowly slaps the table three times.](https://www.reddit.com/r/u_BellatrixBourbon/comments/9rxgrr/wp_everytime_you_think_of_a_funny_joke_this_girl/) &nbsp;^(If you follow any of the above links, please respect the rules of reddit and don't vote in the other threads.) ^\([Info](/r/TotesMessenger) ^/ ^[Contact](/message/compose?to=/r/TotesMessenger))
Edit - Wow we made the front page, thank you for everyone that replied with their stories, I have had a lot of fun reading them all!!! Edit 2- thank you kind stranger for my first gold!!! Edit 3- 2 Gold's!!! Holy Shit, I honestly thought this post wasn't going to go anywhere but now it is my most upvoted post ever by far, and 2 Gold's Jesus Christ. Thank you again everyone that commented, upvoted and gifted the gold you are all special to me! 👌👌👌👌	[WP] Everytime you think of a funny joke, this girl in your class always laughs, you chalk it up to coincidence but you think to yourself, "If you can read my mind, slap the table three times" the the girl looks over at you, stares right into your eyes, and slowly slaps the table three times.	He held his breath, half-choking on the air held within him. Her eyes were locked on his, her dark hair spilling around her face, her body twisted to face him from her seat at the front of the class. Nobody was paying attention to their exchange, other students sliding materials into their bags and making their way out of class. In moments, they were the last two in the room. With the ease of a predator who'd already won, she stood from her chair and began to walk towards him. He instinctively started to shift away, as if any bit farther was better than the current proximity. His instincts screamed warnings, but he couldn't look away from her eyes. They seemed to eat at him, eat at something within him. Suddenly, she was standing right at the edge of the desk, and he wondered at how he could have missed that. "You seem to have a problem paying attention," she started. The smirk on her lips spoke of amusement. "You've been having quite the daydreams, haven't you?" Her eyes, twin voids on her pale face, dug right into him. The abyss was staring right back, and he was utterly caught in its embrace. He opened his mouth to stammer out some sort of reply, but she pinned his lips shut with a single slender finger. 'Cold,' he thought. She chuckled, something dark and throaty. "Not quite as cold as you. But the plans you have to kill everyone in class? Now those are cold." She knew. An icy chill seemed to sweep through him from the pale digit upon his lips. His eyes were wide and his hands (still and always free, yet seemingly confined to his desk) twitched in inaction. He was prey pinned by the predator and with nowhere to run. Adrenaline racing through his form, it slipped his mind that this girl could never prove his monstrous musings, and he scrambled to find a way out of her clutches. She could definitely hear his thoughts. Her eyes - those eyes! - narrowed; she 'tsked' and sat in his lap. Every muscle that had been spasming in terror became stone. She wore a disappointed frown and turned one finger into five, caressing his jaw. He couldn't move - he was trapped, mentally and now physically. He also noticed that her legs were quite shapely. In horror and disbelief, he felt a stirring between his legs. Almost immediately, she noticed. That smirk from before returned and she shifted ever so slightly, mocking him. He grimaced, but kept his mouth shut, even as her thumb smoothed the edge of his mouth. "You're terribly amusing, you know. It's been years since I've come across such an interesting specimen." She let her hand trace the line from his ear to his chin, and her eyes roved the map of his head and face, inspecting and exploring it's every contour. "But if you'll just listen to what I have to say, I think you'll enjoy yourself a little, too." Abruptly, she stood up. The glacier-like freeze that had settled into his muscles was suddenly whisked away, and he gasped as his lungs leapt for the air it had been denied. She chuckled again, low and enticing. He still trembled, but now, he felt something else, too... The girl with the dark eyes offered him a hand. His eyes traveled from her palm to the abyss and back. Slowly, he brought his hand up and took hers. She guided him out of his seat - he caught himself at the edge of his desk as his shaking legs buckled from their extended tension. She grinned, sharp teeth like stone in a cave. "Well, I think I have a fun idea for the weekend. Let's gather a few of your friends, and we'l visit some place nice in the wilds. And we'll have such a treat in store for them, won't we?" He nodded - it was all he could do, really. She looked a little lower at the lapel of his uniform. She thumbed his name-badge. "You've such a nice name, too. 'Thanos'." She smiled at him. He drank it in, enraptured. "We're going to have a lot of fun together, yes?" Thanos responded instinctively, "Yes... mistress."	I'm a bot, bleep, bloop. Someone has linked to this thread from another place on reddit: - [/r/u_aleistergrout] [\[WP\] Everytime you think of a funny joke, this girl in your class always laughs, you chalk it up to coincidence but you think to yourself, "If you can read my mind, slap the table three times" the the girl looks over at you, stares right into your eyes, and slowly slaps the table three times.](https://www.reddit.com/r/u_AleisterGrout/comments/9rxkd4/wp_everytime_you_think_of_a_funny_joke_this_girl/) - [/r/u_bellatrixbourbon] [\[WP\] Everytime you think of a funny joke, this girl in your class always laughs, you chalk it up to coincidence but you think to yourself, "If you can read my mind, slap the table three times" the the girl looks over at you, stares right into your eyes, and slowly slaps the table three times.](https://www.reddit.com/r/u_BellatrixBourbon/comments/9rxgrr/wp_everytime_you_think_of_a_funny_joke_this_girl/) &nbsp;^(If you follow any of the above links, please respect the rules of reddit and don't vote in the other threads.) ^\([Info](/r/TotesMessenger) ^/ ^[Contact](/message/compose?to=/r/TotesMessenger))
Edit - Wow we made the front page, thank you for everyone that replied with their stories, I have had a lot of fun reading them all!!! Edit 2- thank you kind stranger for my first gold!!! Edit 3- 2 Gold's!!! Holy Shit, I honestly thought this post wasn't going to go anywhere but now it is my most upvoted post ever by far, and 2 Gold's Jesus Christ. Thank you again everyone that commented, upvoted and gifted the gold you are all special to me! 👌👌👌👌	[WP] Everytime you think of a funny joke, this girl in your class always laughs, you chalk it up to coincidence but you think to yourself, "If you can read my mind, slap the table three times" the the girl looks over at you, stares right into your eyes, and slowly slaps the table three times.	I stared at her half-smirking face. What the actual... Oh Christ! What if she knows what I imagined of her yesterday! I thought to myself, scared to death. I looked over to her and she frowned, slowly shaking her head in disappointment. Now I started to panic, and I try to stop myself from thinking but I could not help but remember the things I did when I was young that I would do anything to hide forever. I heard her laughing hysterically and I covered my eyes and collapsed on my desk. It was over. I tried to cover my ears the best I could but I could still hear that crazed woman laughing her head off. The teacher, already annoyed with both of our behavior harshly scolded us but to no avail. Finally, he had enough of our "jokes" and demanded us out of the class. I heard her stand up from her desk and walked over to me. I felt a sudden sharp pain in my shin and I groaned in pain. I looked up to see her menacing face and I thought of something nasty to say to her but of course stayed silent. She grabbed me by the arm (like a kidnapper) and dragged me out of class, unaware of the confused and interested looks from our fellow peers. Jesus Christ, what is wrong with her. "OUCH!" This time I fell down, gripping my stomach. The maniac punched me square in the stomach. I could feel the anger and hate. I struggled but managed to look up to her threatening face. I could not help but think about her face. Wow, she is actually kind of pretty, although there are some... I covered my head and vitals as I saw her raising her arm with a closed fist. This is going to be a long day. After a few seconds of silence, I looked up and saw her standing casually, supporting herself with a wall. We both stared at each other. I tried not to think at all about anything but failed miserably. She couldn't help herself but laugh a little. "What the hell is going on?" I asked, totally confused. "I am your great great great granddaughter from a time machine in the future," She became serious all of the sudden, "I need your help destroying the evil cyber empire that dominates the Earth." My brain could not function anymore. "Wait, what?" "I can read your mind because of my super power," She looked at me dead in the eyes, "Everyone in the future can buy pills that gives you super powers." I was too confused to think. Was this all real? "Great great great grandpa, I have prepared a pill for you to fight the incoming evil," She talked sternly and pulled out a green lime from her backpack, "I had to smuggle it in the lime, you have to eat the lime in order to gain the superpower. Sorry grandpa." I looked down at lime that she held towards me, this must be a joke. "Yes, I know that you think this must be a joke," She said with urgency, "Please, trust me grandpa, the time police may be here soon!" God dammit, its now or never. Isn't this what happens in science fiction books? I took the lime and forced myself to bite into the skin. The sourness attached my mouth like an atom bomb. For the sake of my super power, I forced myself to bite more of the lime and tears started to fall down. I wanted to vomit but I held back my urges. I suddenly saw her fall down on the ground out of the corner of my eye. "HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! YOU ACTUALLY BELIEVED IT! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" It took a moment for me to figure out what happened, but I dropped the lime and vomited with tears of humiliation. "HAHAHAHHAHHAAHAHHA!" I heard her rolling on the ground laughing and I closed my eyes. After a few moments of being an idiot, she stood up and held her hand towards me for a handshake. "Name's Amelia." Why did I let myself get into this?	I'm a bot, bleep, bloop. Someone has linked to this thread from another place on reddit: - [/r/u_aleistergrout] [\[WP\] Everytime you think of a funny joke, this girl in your class always laughs, you chalk it up to coincidence but you think to yourself, "If you can read my mind, slap the table three times" the the girl looks over at you, stares right into your eyes, and slowly slaps the table three times.](https://www.reddit.com/r/u_AleisterGrout/comments/9rxkd4/wp_everytime_you_think_of_a_funny_joke_this_girl/) - [/r/u_bellatrixbourbon] [\[WP\] Everytime you think of a funny joke, this girl in your class always laughs, you chalk it up to coincidence but you think to yourself, "If you can read my mind, slap the table three times" the the girl looks over at you, stares right into your eyes, and slowly slaps the table three times.](https://www.reddit.com/r/u_BellatrixBourbon/comments/9rxgrr/wp_everytime_you_think_of_a_funny_joke_this_girl/) &nbsp;^(If you follow any of the above links, please respect the rules of reddit and don't vote in the other threads.) ^\([Info](/r/TotesMessenger) ^/ ^[Contact](/message/compose?to=/r/TotesMessenger))
Edit - Wow we made the front page, thank you for everyone that replied with their stories, I have had a lot of fun reading them all!!! Edit 2- thank you kind stranger for my first gold!!! Edit 3- 2 Gold's!!! Holy Shit, I honestly thought this post wasn't going to go anywhere but now it is my most upvoted post ever by far, and 2 Gold's Jesus Christ. Thank you again everyone that commented, upvoted and gifted the gold you are all special to me! 👌👌👌👌	[WP] Everytime you think of a funny joke, this girl in your class always laughs, you chalk it up to coincidence but you think to yourself, "If you can read my mind, slap the table three times" the the girl looks over at you, stares right into your eyes, and slowly slaps the table three times.	'If you can read my mind, slap the table three times.' I think and the girl looks over at me, then slowly, and very deliberately slaps the table. Once. Twice. Three times. Her eyes locked onto mine 'Tap once for yes, twice for no or three times for maybe' I think, immediately tuning out my professor and his inane rambling about something not quite related to astrophysics. 'Can you turn your ability on and off?' One tap. 'Are you able to select who you listen to?' One tap. 'Can you read deeper than surface thoughts?' Three taps. 'Can you meet me after class? Preferably somewhere quiet like the library' One tap, then a pause before two more 'That a maybe?' One tap. 'I'm afraid I'm not offering a choice.' I have her cornered in an alcove in the library. She's trying to act calm, but her glare and clenched fists say otherwise. "It's okay. I mean you no harm." I say but she doesn't look convinced. "If I wanted you hurt you would be." "Gee thanks." She snaps, almost before she could help herself judging by the visible wave of fear that washes over her afterwards. "I asked you here to talk to you. Calmly and in a civilised fashion. Because what you're going through only gets crazy from here on out." "What do you mean?' She asks, still glaring daggers at me "Powers like yours are immensely rare. There's a number of people who'd kill the entire university just to get a hold of you." "You one of them?" She spits at me, and now I can feel her actively attacking my mind. Agony lances through me as she randomly slashes and stabs about inside my cranium. "I said... I wasn't going to hurt you." I force out as I begin to collapse. I feel something give within me and darkness fades across my vision. Next thing I know I've come too on the floor and she's encased in a swirling miasma of darkness; like the light simply couldn't shine there. "What the fuck is this?" She asks. "My gift." I say as I stagger to my feet. "I control shadows." "Shadows are absences of light. You can't control that." "You read minds and question another impossibility?" I laugh, waving a hand to dismiss the mist that restrained her. "I didn't hurt you though did I?" "No. Now tell me more."	I'm a bot, bleep, bloop. Someone has linked to this thread from another place on reddit: - [/r/u_aleistergrout] [\[WP\] Everytime you think of a funny joke, this girl in your class always laughs, you chalk it up to coincidence but you think to yourself, "If you can read my mind, slap the table three times" the the girl looks over at you, stares right into your eyes, and slowly slaps the table three times.](https://www.reddit.com/r/u_AleisterGrout/comments/9rxkd4/wp_everytime_you_think_of_a_funny_joke_this_girl/) - [/r/u_bellatrixbourbon] [\[WP\] Everytime you think of a funny joke, this girl in your class always laughs, you chalk it up to coincidence but you think to yourself, "If you can read my mind, slap the table three times" the the girl looks over at you, stares right into your eyes, and slowly slaps the table three times.](https://www.reddit.com/r/u_BellatrixBourbon/comments/9rxgrr/wp_everytime_you_think_of_a_funny_joke_this_girl/) &nbsp;^(If you follow any of the above links, please respect the rules of reddit and don't vote in the other threads.) ^\([Info](/r/TotesMessenger) ^/ ^[Contact](/message/compose?to=/r/TotesMessenger))
Edit - Wow we made the front page, thank you for everyone that replied with their stories, I have had a lot of fun reading them all!!! Edit 2- thank you kind stranger for my first gold!!! Edit 3- 2 Gold's!!! Holy Shit, I honestly thought this post wasn't going to go anywhere but now it is my most upvoted post ever by far, and 2 Gold's Jesus Christ. Thank you again everyone that commented, upvoted and gifted the gold you are all special to me! 👌👌👌👌	[WP] Everytime you think of a funny joke, this girl in your class always laughs, you chalk it up to coincidence but you think to yourself, "If you can read my mind, slap the table three times" the the girl looks over at you, stares right into your eyes, and slowly slaps the table three times.	As Angel and my eyes lock, the sound of the teachers voice is drowned out by her mesmerizing gaze and playful smile. In slow motion her smile begins to expand as she raises her hand above the desk and she never removes her eyes from mine, faintly squints and slaps the table three times. Everything around us became blurry to me as my heart began to race. I felt feelings of strong confusion and symmetry. “Can you hear me?” I asked in disbelief and inwardly to myself. “Yes”. The sweetest and softest voice I had ever heard replied again and I felt filled with strong sensations of warmth. “Angel…are you reading my mind?” “No. I am listening to your voice”. There was her voice again chuckling as she spoke. I felt a warmness this time in my heart. “How are you doing this. Am I going crazy?” I asked Angel without a word. “John! John! John! What are you, day dreaming?” “No, Mrs. Patterson.” “What did I say then?” “uh, you were talking about…” My mind had gone blank, I began to feel embarrassment and anxiety swelling as I felt the students in class focusing on me knowing I wasn’t paying attention. “You were talking about, when the…” Ah man I’m so fucked. “Tell her that earth is 92,955,820 miles away from the sun. Earth is a complex interactive system. Say it”. I heard Angel’s voice in my head and I turned to her and she lightly flicked her head forward and said without moving her lips “what are you waiting for?” I hastily blurted to Mrs. Patterson what Angel had said to me. Mrs. Patterson’s heavy sullen expression looked minorly surprised, she gave me half of a smile and turned back around to write on the white board. I took a deep breath of relief as I sat back in my chair and slowly turned my head toward Angel who greeted me with a smile. “Close one”. She chuckled “Thank you, Angel, but, how are you doing this, how are we doing this?” With her eyes she directed me to focus on the Mrs. Patterson who was checking if students were paying attention. “Watch Mrs. Patterson alright.” As I watched the teacher draw some planet on the white board I listened to Angels soft and smooth voice passing through my neural connections. “We are using our heads to communicate”. “But how are you doing it?” “I have a gift. Cool right?” “Yes and amazing ! You can read minds!” “Actually I can’t read minds. But I can listen to people inner voice.” “Are you a human being”? “What does that supposed to mean?” I turned my head to Angel afraid I caused her offense. Her hands above the table, palms open , fingers extended, she had an expression that asked “What kind question is that” as she shook head from side to side. “No, I mean, I’m sorry, your name is Angel so I thought maybe you had fallen from heaven or something.” I felt so stupid saying that. She laughed and I could hear her voice resonating in my head and inside my body, but she showed no expression but a smile on the outside. “Your funny and you’re a dork.” I chuckled aloud. “Is something funny John? Then what are you laughing at?” “Oh no” says Angel. “Tell her, her lessons suck haha”. I smiled and began to turn toward Angel and said aloud “I can’t say tha..” before catching myself. Mrs. Patterson had a bewildered expression on her face and looked over to Angel and the other students in the general direction. Nobody said anything. Mrs. Patterson stared at me as if I was crazy, widened her eyes and said “Okaaayyy” as she shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. The other students laughed. “ OMG did you forget which voice to use? HAha your so funny John. Your such an idiot!” “Thanks…That was embarrassing, every now thinks I’m crazy.” “Well you are talking to yourself…” “Hey no Im talking to you . Im not crazy!” “Yea. Haha. Your good though. How bout I make it up to you. Why don’t we go to Game N Busters after class and I can show you something really cool?” “Game N Busters? Yea I want to go but I don’t have any money.” “No problem, that’s why we are going to the Casino first. We can play black jack and poker and win some cash then go out, how’s that sound?” “Um”. “C’mon, John it will be fun, you can even choose where to eat and Im driving. That’s a good deal, right?” “Ya, but I don’t know how to play Black Jack or Poker.” “Really, no problem, I’ll teach you on the way there its really easy, plus you can look it up on your cell phone. How about today we start with black jack only?” “Yea, black jack, um alright, let’s do it!” The bells rings shortly after Angel finishes her conversation with me. Mrs. Patterson is now handing out homework after the bell has rung and I am thinking if my conversation with Angel is real or in my imagination. Black Jack, dinner and Game N Busters. “Angel are you there.” “Yep, got my homework. Did you”. “Yes”. “Well lets go have some fun.” I catch a glimpse of Mrs. Patterson watching me, scratching her head as I walk out of class.	I'm a bot, bleep, bloop. Someone has linked to this thread from another place on reddit: - [/r/u_aleistergrout] [\[WP\] Everytime you think of a funny joke, this girl in your class always laughs, you chalk it up to coincidence but you think to yourself, "If you can read my mind, slap the table three times" the the girl looks over at you, stares right into your eyes, and slowly slaps the table three times.](https://www.reddit.com/r/u_AleisterGrout/comments/9rxkd4/wp_everytime_you_think_of_a_funny_joke_this_girl/) - [/r/u_bellatrixbourbon] [\[WP\] Everytime you think of a funny joke, this girl in your class always laughs, you chalk it up to coincidence but you think to yourself, "If you can read my mind, slap the table three times" the the girl looks over at you, stares right into your eyes, and slowly slaps the table three times.](https://www.reddit.com/r/u_BellatrixBourbon/comments/9rxgrr/wp_everytime_you_think_of_a_funny_joke_this_girl/) &nbsp;^(If you follow any of the above links, please respect the rules of reddit and don't vote in the other threads.) ^\([Info](/r/TotesMessenger) ^/ ^[Contact](/message/compose?to=/r/TotesMessenger))
Edit - Wow we made the front page, thank you for everyone that replied with their stories, I have had a lot of fun reading them all!!! Edit 2- thank you kind stranger for my first gold!!! Edit 3- 2 Gold's!!! Holy Shit, I honestly thought this post wasn't going to go anywhere but now it is my most upvoted post ever by far, and 2 Gold's Jesus Christ. Thank you again everyone that commented, upvoted and gifted the gold you are all special to me! 👌👌👌👌	[WP] Everytime you think of a funny joke, this girl in your class always laughs, you chalk it up to coincidence but you think to yourself, "If you can read my mind, slap the table three times" the the girl looks over at you, stares right into your eyes, and slowly slaps the table three times.	"Tap twice if this is mind reading." She taps twice, then three times. "Tap twice if it's something weirder." Silence. "Tap twice if you can let me ask some non-binary questions after class." Two taps. Thank goodness. ----- The classroom empties, and she walks up to me. "My name is Jane, and you are Eliabeth. And before you can ask, it's not quite mind reading, if you'd ask me, unless you ask, does Adsense read your mind?" I present a blank look. "... Pardon?" She points at my computer. "Does Adsense know what you're looking at? Even if you're using adblocker, isn't something observing you?" This is getting creepier than just plain-ol' mind reading. She must be able to read my face at this point. "I'm the biggest private privacy violater till you get to a datacenter. And you seemed like you might be interested in what I have in mind." She taps her computer bag. "These little computers, they listen, and they're smart. Really smart. Illegally smart. I can break the crypto that the internet runs on. And add to that, I've been studying marketing and mathematical sociology." She points at me. I gulp. "You are predictable." "Am not!", I shout, as she does too. "I'm a free spirit!", we speak. "I have a ... Oh, sod it.", we conclude. I shake my head. "Why me?" "Because if I'm not mistaken, you're interested, concerned, and have few scruples for using this technology if it advances a few goals we share in common." She leans in and smiles, then softly sings out, "You'd like to change the world? Well, I know just what to do."	I'm a bot, bleep, bloop. Someone has linked to this thread from another place on reddit: - [/r/u_aleistergrout] [\[WP\] Everytime you think of a funny joke, this girl in your class always laughs, you chalk it up to coincidence but you think to yourself, "If you can read my mind, slap the table three times" the the girl looks over at you, stares right into your eyes, and slowly slaps the table three times.](https://www.reddit.com/r/u_AleisterGrout/comments/9rxkd4/wp_everytime_you_think_of_a_funny_joke_this_girl/) - [/r/u_bellatrixbourbon] [\[WP\] Everytime you think of a funny joke, this girl in your class always laughs, you chalk it up to coincidence but you think to yourself, "If you can read my mind, slap the table three times" the the girl looks over at you, stares right into your eyes, and slowly slaps the table three times.](https://www.reddit.com/r/u_BellatrixBourbon/comments/9rxgrr/wp_everytime_you_think_of_a_funny_joke_this_girl/) &nbsp;^(If you follow any of the above links, please respect the rules of reddit and don't vote in the other threads.) ^\([Info](/r/TotesMessenger) ^/ ^[Contact](/message/compose?to=/r/TotesMessenger))
Edit - Wow we made the front page, thank you for everyone that replied with their stories, I have had a lot of fun reading them all!!! Edit 2- thank you kind stranger for my first gold!!! Edit 3- 2 Gold's!!! Holy Shit, I honestly thought this post wasn't going to go anywhere but now it is my most upvoted post ever by far, and 2 Gold's Jesus Christ. Thank you again everyone that commented, upvoted and gifted the gold you are all special to me! 👌👌👌👌	[WP] Everytime you think of a funny joke, this girl in your class always laughs, you chalk it up to coincidence but you think to yourself, "If you can read my mind, slap the table three times" the the girl looks over at you, stares right into your eyes, and slowly slaps the table three times.	It was another miserable, cold, drizzly autumn day- and of course, I forgot to put on a jacket. I was walking to my physics class, shivering all the while. “Need a coat?” I turned around. Behind me was a girl- actually, one of my class-mates. “No, thanks, I’ll be fine.” She looked at me, skeptically. “You sure of that?” “Yeah, Marie. I’m good.” “Okay. Your loss.” She puffed on, toward the auditorium. &#x200B; Another nine AM lecture on thermodynamics- Professor Ehrenfest’s droning was only interrupted by the scratching noises of a hundred pencils on paper. Ehrenfest? More like Snoozefest. Marie laughed. I instinctively put my hand over my mouth. Had I said that aloud? Ehrenfest would skin me alive if he had heard that- he was not one who suffered jokes gladly. No one else had laughed, though, and Marie was sitting three rows below me. I chalked it up to chance. Ehrenfest pulled up another slide. “Now, can someone please tell me, what is the theoretical efficiency of this engine?” Simple. Just one minus low temperature divided by high temperature. High is eight hundred ten kelvin, low is two seventy, two thirds. Marie raised her hand. “Marie?” “It’s two thirds.” “Good. How did you get there?” “The efficiency is one minus low temperature divided by high temperature. High is eight hundred ten kelvin, low is two seventy. Two thirds.” “Very good.” Huh. Took the words right out of my mouth. Now, I’m a scientist. I’m not usually one who believed in the supernatural. However, having someone copy not just my answer, but my words, spooked me a bit. Maybe it was too close to Halloween, but… If you can hear this, tap your desk, three times. I stared intensely at Marie, as she tapped her desk once…twice…three times. My blood froze. Oh my God, she’s a telepath?! I thought it was cool- for about a millisecond. That’s when I realized that Marie could likely hear everything coming out of my head. My mind raced, trying to determine how bad this could be. Then I saw Marie wheel around in her seat, and look directly at me. Come on, act natural… I took a breath, and smiled back at Marie. She nodded, and turned back to look at the blackboard. &#x200B; 10 AM. Class over. I packed at record speed, dashed up the stairs, and sprinted down the pathway, seeking the safety of my own room. But how safe is it? What if Marie can still hear me? This is not good… “Wait!” I recognized the voice, and picked up speed. My legs protested every step I took, but that was better than losing the privacy of my own mind. “Slow down!” The voice was closer now. I hung a left, cutting across the grass toward my dorm room. That was when Marie crashed into me at full tilt. Three hundred pounds of human, backpack, and water bottle smashed into the Earth. I tasted grass, dirt, and iron. My nose was bleeding, my face scratched. Marie rolled off me, and we both got up slowly, gasping for breath. “Why did you tackle me!” Marie was still breathing hard. “I just… wanted to explain. Before you got away. Stop you from panicking.” “What, that you can-” “Read minds? Yeah.” “So what are you, some kind of-” “Superhuman? I guess. No, I’m not Professor X. He’s more powerful than I am.” “Do you know-” “How I got these powers? No. I just know I’ve had them as long as I can remember. As for what I can hear?” She smiled, and shook her head. “Everything. Every thought. I know that Kei has the hots for Sophia, that Roy’s mom died last week, that you’re…” Her voice cut off abruptly. “But doesn’t it get… you know, overwhelming?” She scratched her head. “A bit, yeah. It’s why I keep to myself, mostly. I mean, hey, it is what it is.” She looked straight at me, her pale eyes seeming to see right through me. “Look, I’m sorry for reading your mind without your permission. It’s just that… I’m in dire need of someone who gets me, and judging by what I’ve seen, we’re in the same boat. So what do you say? Friends?” I stared at Marie. She did read my mind- but she had a point. I’d barely gained any friends since I moved here. I shook her hand. “I guess so.” &#x200B; It was the best decision I'd ever made. &#x200B; \\\\\\ Hi WP, I'm new here- this is my second prompt! Feedback appreciated!	I'm a bot, bleep, bloop. Someone has linked to this thread from another place on reddit: - [/r/u_aleistergrout] [\[WP\] Everytime you think of a funny joke, this girl in your class always laughs, you chalk it up to coincidence but you think to yourself, "If you can read my mind, slap the table three times" the the girl looks over at you, stares right into your eyes, and slowly slaps the table three times.](https://www.reddit.com/r/u_AleisterGrout/comments/9rxkd4/wp_everytime_you_think_of_a_funny_joke_this_girl/) - [/r/u_bellatrixbourbon] [\[WP\] Everytime you think of a funny joke, this girl in your class always laughs, you chalk it up to coincidence but you think to yourself, "If you can read my mind, slap the table three times" the the girl looks over at you, stares right into your eyes, and slowly slaps the table three times.](https://www.reddit.com/r/u_BellatrixBourbon/comments/9rxgrr/wp_everytime_you_think_of_a_funny_joke_this_girl/) &nbsp;^(If you follow any of the above links, please respect the rules of reddit and don't vote in the other threads.) ^\([Info](/r/TotesMessenger) ^/ ^[Contact](/message/compose?to=/r/TotesMessenger))
Edit - Wow we made the front page, thank you for everyone that replied with their stories, I have had a lot of fun reading them all!!! Edit 2- thank you kind stranger for my first gold!!! Edit 3- 2 Gold's!!! Holy Shit, I honestly thought this post wasn't going to go anywhere but now it is my most upvoted post ever by far, and 2 Gold's Jesus Christ. Thank you again everyone that commented, upvoted and gifted the gold you are all special to me! 👌👌👌👌	[WP] Everytime you think of a funny joke, this girl in your class always laughs, you chalk it up to coincidence but you think to yourself, "If you can read my mind, slap the table three times" the the girl looks over at you, stares right into your eyes, and slowly slaps the table three times.	I stared at her half-smirking face. What the actual... Oh Christ! What if she knows what I imagined of her yesterday! I thought to myself, scared to death. I looked over to her and she frowned, slowly shaking her head in disappointment. Now I started to panic, and I try to stop myself from thinking but I could not help but remember the things I did when I was young that I would do anything to hide forever. I heard her laughing hysterically and I covered my eyes and collapsed on my desk. It was over. I tried to cover my ears the best I could but I could still hear that crazed woman laughing her head off. The teacher, already annoyed with both of our behavior harshly scolded us but to no avail. Finally, he had enough of our "jokes" and demanded us out of the class. I heard her stand up from her desk and walked over to me. I felt a sudden sharp pain in my shin and I groaned in pain. I looked up to see her menacing face and I thought of something nasty to say to her but of course stayed silent. She grabbed me by the arm (like a kidnapper) and dragged me out of class, unaware of the confused and interested looks from our fellow peers. Jesus Christ, what is wrong with her. "OUCH!" This time I fell down, gripping my stomach. The maniac punched me square in the stomach. I could feel the anger and hate. I struggled but managed to look up to her threatening face. I could not help but think about her face. Wow, she is actually kind of pretty, although there are some... I covered my head and vitals as I saw her raising her arm with a closed fist. This is going to be a long day. After a few seconds of silence, I looked up and saw her standing casually, supporting herself with a wall. We both stared at each other. I tried not to think at all about anything but failed miserably. She couldn't help herself but laugh a little. "What the hell is going on?" I asked, totally confused. "I am your great great great granddaughter from a time machine in the future," She became serious all of the sudden, "I need your help destroying the evil cyber empire that dominates the Earth." My brain could not function anymore. "Wait, what?" "I can read your mind because of my super power," She looked at me dead in the eyes, "Everyone in the future can buy pills that gives you super powers." I was too confused to think. Was this all real? "Great great great grandpa, I have prepared a pill for you to fight the incoming evil," She talked sternly and pulled out a green lime from her backpack, "I had to smuggle it in the lime, you have to eat the lime in order to gain the superpower. Sorry grandpa." I looked down at lime that she held towards me, this must be a joke. "Yes, I know that you think this must be a joke," She said with urgency, "Please, trust me grandpa, the time police may be here soon!" God dammit, its now or never. Isn't this what happens in science fiction books? I took the lime and forced myself to bite into the skin. The sourness attached my mouth like an atom bomb. For the sake of my super power, I forced myself to bite more of the lime and tears started to fall down. I wanted to vomit but I held back my urges. I suddenly saw her fall down on the ground out of the corner of my eye. "HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! YOU ACTUALLY BELIEVED IT! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" It took a moment for me to figure out what happened, but I dropped the lime and vomited with tears of humiliation. "HAHAHAHHAHHAAHAHHA!" I heard her rolling on the ground laughing and I closed my eyes. After a few moments of being an idiot, she stood up and held her hand towards me for a handshake. "Name's Amelia." Why did I let myself get into this?	'If you can read my mind, slap the table three times.' I think and the girl looks over at me, then slowly, and very deliberately slaps the table. Once. Twice. Three times. Her eyes locked onto mine 'Tap once for yes, twice for no or three times for maybe' I think, immediately tuning out my professor and his inane rambling about something not quite related to astrophysics. 'Can you turn your ability on and off?' One tap. 'Are you able to select who you listen to?' One tap. 'Can you read deeper than surface thoughts?' Three taps. 'Can you meet me after class? Preferably somewhere quiet like the library' One tap, then a pause before two more 'That a maybe?' One tap. 'I'm afraid I'm not offering a choice.' I have her cornered in an alcove in the library. She's trying to act calm, but her glare and clenched fists say otherwise. "It's okay. I mean you no harm." I say but she doesn't look convinced. "If I wanted you hurt you would be." "Gee thanks." She snaps, almost before she could help herself judging by the visible wave of fear that washes over her afterwards. "I asked you here to talk to you. Calmly and in a civilised fashion. Because what you're going through only gets crazy from here on out." "What do you mean?' She asks, still glaring daggers at me "Powers like yours are immensely rare. There's a number of people who'd kill the entire university just to get a hold of you." "You one of them?" She spits at me, and now I can feel her actively attacking my mind. Agony lances through me as she randomly slashes and stabs about inside my cranium. "I said... I wasn't going to hurt you." I force out as I begin to collapse. I feel something give within me and darkness fades across my vision. Next thing I know I've come too on the floor and she's encased in a swirling miasma of darkness; like the light simply couldn't shine there. "What the fuck is this?" She asks. "My gift." I say as I stagger to my feet. "I control shadows." "Shadows are absences of light. You can't control that." "You read minds and question another impossibility?" I laugh, waving a hand to dismiss the mist that restrained her. "I didn't hurt you though did I?" "No. Now tell me more."
Edit - Wow we made the front page, thank you for everyone that replied with their stories, I have had a lot of fun reading them all!!! Edit 2- thank you kind stranger for my first gold!!! Edit 3- 2 Gold's!!! Holy Shit, I honestly thought this post wasn't going to go anywhere but now it is my most upvoted post ever by far, and 2 Gold's Jesus Christ. Thank you again everyone that commented, upvoted and gifted the gold you are all special to me! 👌👌👌👌	[WP] Everytime you think of a funny joke, this girl in your class always laughs, you chalk it up to coincidence but you think to yourself, "If you can read my mind, slap the table three times" the the girl looks over at you, stares right into your eyes, and slowly slaps the table three times.	I stared at her half-smirking face. What the actual... Oh Christ! What if she knows what I imagined of her yesterday! I thought to myself, scared to death. I looked over to her and she frowned, slowly shaking her head in disappointment. Now I started to panic, and I try to stop myself from thinking but I could not help but remember the things I did when I was young that I would do anything to hide forever. I heard her laughing hysterically and I covered my eyes and collapsed on my desk. It was over. I tried to cover my ears the best I could but I could still hear that crazed woman laughing her head off. The teacher, already annoyed with both of our behavior harshly scolded us but to no avail. Finally, he had enough of our "jokes" and demanded us out of the class. I heard her stand up from her desk and walked over to me. I felt a sudden sharp pain in my shin and I groaned in pain. I looked up to see her menacing face and I thought of something nasty to say to her but of course stayed silent. She grabbed me by the arm (like a kidnapper) and dragged me out of class, unaware of the confused and interested looks from our fellow peers. Jesus Christ, what is wrong with her. "OUCH!" This time I fell down, gripping my stomach. The maniac punched me square in the stomach. I could feel the anger and hate. I struggled but managed to look up to her threatening face. I could not help but think about her face. Wow, she is actually kind of pretty, although there are some... I covered my head and vitals as I saw her raising her arm with a closed fist. This is going to be a long day. After a few seconds of silence, I looked up and saw her standing casually, supporting herself with a wall. We both stared at each other. I tried not to think at all about anything but failed miserably. She couldn't help herself but laugh a little. "What the hell is going on?" I asked, totally confused. "I am your great great great granddaughter from a time machine in the future," She became serious all of the sudden, "I need your help destroying the evil cyber empire that dominates the Earth." My brain could not function anymore. "Wait, what?" "I can read your mind because of my super power," She looked at me dead in the eyes, "Everyone in the future can buy pills that gives you super powers." I was too confused to think. Was this all real? "Great great great grandpa, I have prepared a pill for you to fight the incoming evil," She talked sternly and pulled out a green lime from her backpack, "I had to smuggle it in the lime, you have to eat the lime in order to gain the superpower. Sorry grandpa." I looked down at lime that she held towards me, this must be a joke. "Yes, I know that you think this must be a joke," She said with urgency, "Please, trust me grandpa, the time police may be here soon!" God dammit, its now or never. Isn't this what happens in science fiction books? I took the lime and forced myself to bite into the skin. The sourness attached my mouth like an atom bomb. For the sake of my super power, I forced myself to bite more of the lime and tears started to fall down. I wanted to vomit but I held back my urges. I suddenly saw her fall down on the ground out of the corner of my eye. "HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! YOU ACTUALLY BELIEVED IT! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" It took a moment for me to figure out what happened, but I dropped the lime and vomited with tears of humiliation. "HAHAHAHHAHHAAHAHHA!" I heard her rolling on the ground laughing and I closed my eyes. After a few moments of being an idiot, she stood up and held her hand towards me for a handshake. "Name's Amelia." Why did I let myself get into this?	He held his breath, half-choking on the air held within him. Her eyes were locked on his, her dark hair spilling around her face, her body twisted to face him from her seat at the front of the class. Nobody was paying attention to their exchange, other students sliding materials into their bags and making their way out of class. In moments, they were the last two in the room. With the ease of a predator who'd already won, she stood from her chair and began to walk towards him. He instinctively started to shift away, as if any bit farther was better than the current proximity. His instincts screamed warnings, but he couldn't look away from her eyes. They seemed to eat at him, eat at something within him. Suddenly, she was standing right at the edge of the desk, and he wondered at how he could have missed that. "You seem to have a problem paying attention," she started. The smirk on her lips spoke of amusement. "You've been having quite the daydreams, haven't you?" Her eyes, twin voids on her pale face, dug right into him. The abyss was staring right back, and he was utterly caught in its embrace. He opened his mouth to stammer out some sort of reply, but she pinned his lips shut with a single slender finger. 'Cold,' he thought. She chuckled, something dark and throaty. "Not quite as cold as you. But the plans you have to kill everyone in class? Now those are cold." She knew. An icy chill seemed to sweep through him from the pale digit upon his lips. His eyes were wide and his hands (still and always free, yet seemingly confined to his desk) twitched in inaction. He was prey pinned by the predator and with nowhere to run. Adrenaline racing through his form, it slipped his mind that this girl could never prove his monstrous musings, and he scrambled to find a way out of her clutches. She could definitely hear his thoughts. Her eyes - those eyes! - narrowed; she 'tsked' and sat in his lap. Every muscle that had been spasming in terror became stone. She wore a disappointed frown and turned one finger into five, caressing his jaw. He couldn't move - he was trapped, mentally and now physically. He also noticed that her legs were quite shapely. In horror and disbelief, he felt a stirring between his legs. Almost immediately, she noticed. That smirk from before returned and she shifted ever so slightly, mocking him. He grimaced, but kept his mouth shut, even as her thumb smoothed the edge of his mouth. "You're terribly amusing, you know. It's been years since I've come across such an interesting specimen." She let her hand trace the line from his ear to his chin, and her eyes roved the map of his head and face, inspecting and exploring it's every contour. "But if you'll just listen to what I have to say, I think you'll enjoy yourself a little, too." Abruptly, she stood up. The glacier-like freeze that had settled into his muscles was suddenly whisked away, and he gasped as his lungs leapt for the air it had been denied. She chuckled again, low and enticing. He still trembled, but now, he felt something else, too... The girl with the dark eyes offered him a hand. His eyes traveled from her palm to the abyss and back. Slowly, he brought his hand up and took hers. She guided him out of his seat - he caught himself at the edge of his desk as his shaking legs buckled from their extended tension. She grinned, sharp teeth like stone in a cave. "Well, I think I have a fun idea for the weekend. Let's gather a few of your friends, and we'l visit some place nice in the wilds. And we'll have such a treat in store for them, won't we?" He nodded - it was all he could do, really. She looked a little lower at the lapel of his uniform. She thumbed his name-badge. "You've such a nice name, too. 'Thanos'." She smiled at him. He drank it in, enraptured. "We're going to have a lot of fun together, yes?" Thanos responded instinctively, "Yes... mistress."
Edit - Wow we made the front page, thank you for everyone that replied with their stories, I have had a lot of fun reading them all!!! Edit 2- thank you kind stranger for my first gold!!! Edit 3- 2 Gold's!!! Holy Shit, I honestly thought this post wasn't going to go anywhere but now it is my most upvoted post ever by far, and 2 Gold's Jesus Christ. Thank you again everyone that commented, upvoted and gifted the gold you are all special to me! 👌👌👌👌	[WP] Everytime you think of a funny joke, this girl in your class always laughs, you chalk it up to coincidence but you think to yourself, "If you can read my mind, slap the table three times" the the girl looks over at you, stares right into your eyes, and slowly slaps the table three times.	'If you can read my mind, slap the table three times.' I think and the girl looks over at me, then slowly, and very deliberately slaps the table. Once. Twice. Three times. Her eyes locked onto mine 'Tap once for yes, twice for no or three times for maybe' I think, immediately tuning out my professor and his inane rambling about something not quite related to astrophysics. 'Can you turn your ability on and off?' One tap. 'Are you able to select who you listen to?' One tap. 'Can you read deeper than surface thoughts?' Three taps. 'Can you meet me after class? Preferably somewhere quiet like the library' One tap, then a pause before two more 'That a maybe?' One tap. 'I'm afraid I'm not offering a choice.' I have her cornered in an alcove in the library. She's trying to act calm, but her glare and clenched fists say otherwise. "It's okay. I mean you no harm." I say but she doesn't look convinced. "If I wanted you hurt you would be." "Gee thanks." She snaps, almost before she could help herself judging by the visible wave of fear that washes over her afterwards. "I asked you here to talk to you. Calmly and in a civilised fashion. Because what you're going through only gets crazy from here on out." "What do you mean?' She asks, still glaring daggers at me "Powers like yours are immensely rare. There's a number of people who'd kill the entire university just to get a hold of you." "You one of them?" She spits at me, and now I can feel her actively attacking my mind. Agony lances through me as she randomly slashes and stabs about inside my cranium. "I said... I wasn't going to hurt you." I force out as I begin to collapse. I feel something give within me and darkness fades across my vision. Next thing I know I've come too on the floor and she's encased in a swirling miasma of darkness; like the light simply couldn't shine there. "What the fuck is this?" She asks. "My gift." I say as I stagger to my feet. "I control shadows." "Shadows are absences of light. You can't control that." "You read minds and question another impossibility?" I laugh, waving a hand to dismiss the mist that restrained her. "I didn't hurt you though did I?" "No. Now tell me more."	He held his breath, half-choking on the air held within him. Her eyes were locked on his, her dark hair spilling around her face, her body twisted to face him from her seat at the front of the class. Nobody was paying attention to their exchange, other students sliding materials into their bags and making their way out of class. In moments, they were the last two in the room. With the ease of a predator who'd already won, she stood from her chair and began to walk towards him. He instinctively started to shift away, as if any bit farther was better than the current proximity. His instincts screamed warnings, but he couldn't look away from her eyes. They seemed to eat at him, eat at something within him. Suddenly, she was standing right at the edge of the desk, and he wondered at how he could have missed that. "You seem to have a problem paying attention," she started. The smirk on her lips spoke of amusement. "You've been having quite the daydreams, haven't you?" Her eyes, twin voids on her pale face, dug right into him. The abyss was staring right back, and he was utterly caught in its embrace. He opened his mouth to stammer out some sort of reply, but she pinned his lips shut with a single slender finger. 'Cold,' he thought. She chuckled, something dark and throaty. "Not quite as cold as you. But the plans you have to kill everyone in class? Now those are cold." She knew. An icy chill seemed to sweep through him from the pale digit upon his lips. His eyes were wide and his hands (still and always free, yet seemingly confined to his desk) twitched in inaction. He was prey pinned by the predator and with nowhere to run. Adrenaline racing through his form, it slipped his mind that this girl could never prove his monstrous musings, and he scrambled to find a way out of her clutches. She could definitely hear his thoughts. Her eyes - those eyes! - narrowed; she 'tsked' and sat in his lap. Every muscle that had been spasming in terror became stone. She wore a disappointed frown and turned one finger into five, caressing his jaw. He couldn't move - he was trapped, mentally and now physically. He also noticed that her legs were quite shapely. In horror and disbelief, he felt a stirring between his legs. Almost immediately, she noticed. That smirk from before returned and she shifted ever so slightly, mocking him. He grimaced, but kept his mouth shut, even as her thumb smoothed the edge of his mouth. "You're terribly amusing, you know. It's been years since I've come across such an interesting specimen." She let her hand trace the line from his ear to his chin, and her eyes roved the map of his head and face, inspecting and exploring it's every contour. "But if you'll just listen to what I have to say, I think you'll enjoy yourself a little, too." Abruptly, she stood up. The glacier-like freeze that had settled into his muscles was suddenly whisked away, and he gasped as his lungs leapt for the air it had been denied. She chuckled again, low and enticing. He still trembled, but now, he felt something else, too... The girl with the dark eyes offered him a hand. His eyes traveled from her palm to the abyss and back. Slowly, he brought his hand up and took hers. She guided him out of his seat - he caught himself at the edge of his desk as his shaking legs buckled from their extended tension. She grinned, sharp teeth like stone in a cave. "Well, I think I have a fun idea for the weekend. Let's gather a few of your friends, and we'l visit some place nice in the wilds. And we'll have such a treat in store for them, won't we?" He nodded - it was all he could do, really. She looked a little lower at the lapel of his uniform. She thumbed his name-badge. "You've such a nice name, too. 'Thanos'." She smiled at him. He drank it in, enraptured. "We're going to have a lot of fun together, yes?" Thanos responded instinctively, "Yes... mistress."
Edit - Wow we made the front page, thank you for everyone that replied with their stories, I have had a lot of fun reading them all!!! Edit 2- thank you kind stranger for my first gold!!! Edit 3- 2 Gold's!!! Holy Shit, I honestly thought this post wasn't going to go anywhere but now it is my most upvoted post ever by far, and 2 Gold's Jesus Christ. Thank you again everyone that commented, upvoted and gifted the gold you are all special to me! 👌👌👌👌	[WP] Everytime you think of a funny joke, this girl in your class always laughs, you chalk it up to coincidence but you think to yourself, "If you can read my mind, slap the table three times" the the girl looks over at you, stares right into your eyes, and slowly slaps the table three times.	As Angel and my eyes lock, the sound of the teachers voice is drowned out by her mesmerizing gaze and playful smile. In slow motion her smile begins to expand as she raises her hand above the desk and she never removes her eyes from mine, faintly squints and slaps the table three times. Everything around us became blurry to me as my heart began to race. I felt feelings of strong confusion and symmetry. “Can you hear me?” I asked in disbelief and inwardly to myself. “Yes”. The sweetest and softest voice I had ever heard replied again and I felt filled with strong sensations of warmth. “Angel…are you reading my mind?” “No. I am listening to your voice”. There was her voice again chuckling as she spoke. I felt a warmness this time in my heart. “How are you doing this. Am I going crazy?” I asked Angel without a word. “John! John! John! What are you, day dreaming?” “No, Mrs. Patterson.” “What did I say then?” “uh, you were talking about…” My mind had gone blank, I began to feel embarrassment and anxiety swelling as I felt the students in class focusing on me knowing I wasn’t paying attention. “You were talking about, when the…” Ah man I’m so fucked. “Tell her that earth is 92,955,820 miles away from the sun. Earth is a complex interactive system. Say it”. I heard Angel’s voice in my head and I turned to her and she lightly flicked her head forward and said without moving her lips “what are you waiting for?” I hastily blurted to Mrs. Patterson what Angel had said to me. Mrs. Patterson’s heavy sullen expression looked minorly surprised, she gave me half of a smile and turned back around to write on the white board. I took a deep breath of relief as I sat back in my chair and slowly turned my head toward Angel who greeted me with a smile. “Close one”. She chuckled “Thank you, Angel, but, how are you doing this, how are we doing this?” With her eyes she directed me to focus on the Mrs. Patterson who was checking if students were paying attention. “Watch Mrs. Patterson alright.” As I watched the teacher draw some planet on the white board I listened to Angels soft and smooth voice passing through my neural connections. “We are using our heads to communicate”. “But how are you doing it?” “I have a gift. Cool right?” “Yes and amazing ! You can read minds!” “Actually I can’t read minds. But I can listen to people inner voice.” “Are you a human being”? “What does that supposed to mean?” I turned my head to Angel afraid I caused her offense. Her hands above the table, palms open , fingers extended, she had an expression that asked “What kind question is that” as she shook head from side to side. “No, I mean, I’m sorry, your name is Angel so I thought maybe you had fallen from heaven or something.” I felt so stupid saying that. She laughed and I could hear her voice resonating in my head and inside my body, but she showed no expression but a smile on the outside. “Your funny and you’re a dork.” I chuckled aloud. “Is something funny John? Then what are you laughing at?” “Oh no” says Angel. “Tell her, her lessons suck haha”. I smiled and began to turn toward Angel and said aloud “I can’t say tha..” before catching myself. Mrs. Patterson had a bewildered expression on her face and looked over to Angel and the other students in the general direction. Nobody said anything. Mrs. Patterson stared at me as if I was crazy, widened her eyes and said “Okaaayyy” as she shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. The other students laughed. “ OMG did you forget which voice to use? HAha your so funny John. Your such an idiot!” “Thanks…That was embarrassing, every now thinks I’m crazy.” “Well you are talking to yourself…” “Hey no Im talking to you . Im not crazy!” “Yea. Haha. Your good though. How bout I make it up to you. Why don’t we go to Game N Busters after class and I can show you something really cool?” “Game N Busters? Yea I want to go but I don’t have any money.” “No problem, that’s why we are going to the Casino first. We can play black jack and poker and win some cash then go out, how’s that sound?” “Um”. “C’mon, John it will be fun, you can even choose where to eat and Im driving. That’s a good deal, right?” “Ya, but I don’t know how to play Black Jack or Poker.” “Really, no problem, I’ll teach you on the way there its really easy, plus you can look it up on your cell phone. How about today we start with black jack only?” “Yea, black jack, um alright, let’s do it!” The bells rings shortly after Angel finishes her conversation with me. Mrs. Patterson is now handing out homework after the bell has rung and I am thinking if my conversation with Angel is real or in my imagination. Black Jack, dinner and Game N Busters. “Angel are you there.” “Yep, got my homework. Did you”. “Yes”. “Well lets go have some fun.” I catch a glimpse of Mrs. Patterson watching me, scratching her head as I walk out of class.	He held his breath, half-choking on the air held within him. Her eyes were locked on his, her dark hair spilling around her face, her body twisted to face him from her seat at the front of the class. Nobody was paying attention to their exchange, other students sliding materials into their bags and making their way out of class. In moments, they were the last two in the room. With the ease of a predator who'd already won, she stood from her chair and began to walk towards him. He instinctively started to shift away, as if any bit farther was better than the current proximity. His instincts screamed warnings, but he couldn't look away from her eyes. They seemed to eat at him, eat at something within him. Suddenly, she was standing right at the edge of the desk, and he wondered at how he could have missed that. "You seem to have a problem paying attention," she started. The smirk on her lips spoke of amusement. "You've been having quite the daydreams, haven't you?" Her eyes, twin voids on her pale face, dug right into him. The abyss was staring right back, and he was utterly caught in its embrace. He opened his mouth to stammer out some sort of reply, but she pinned his lips shut with a single slender finger. 'Cold,' he thought. She chuckled, something dark and throaty. "Not quite as cold as you. But the plans you have to kill everyone in class? Now those are cold." She knew. An icy chill seemed to sweep through him from the pale digit upon his lips. His eyes were wide and his hands (still and always free, yet seemingly confined to his desk) twitched in inaction. He was prey pinned by the predator and with nowhere to run. Adrenaline racing through his form, it slipped his mind that this girl could never prove his monstrous musings, and he scrambled to find a way out of her clutches. She could definitely hear his thoughts. Her eyes - those eyes! - narrowed; she 'tsked' and sat in his lap. Every muscle that had been spasming in terror became stone. She wore a disappointed frown and turned one finger into five, caressing his jaw. He couldn't move - he was trapped, mentally and now physically. He also noticed that her legs were quite shapely. In horror and disbelief, he felt a stirring between his legs. Almost immediately, she noticed. That smirk from before returned and she shifted ever so slightly, mocking him. He grimaced, but kept his mouth shut, even as her thumb smoothed the edge of his mouth. "You're terribly amusing, you know. It's been years since I've come across such an interesting specimen." She let her hand trace the line from his ear to his chin, and her eyes roved the map of his head and face, inspecting and exploring it's every contour. "But if you'll just listen to what I have to say, I think you'll enjoy yourself a little, too." Abruptly, she stood up. The glacier-like freeze that had settled into his muscles was suddenly whisked away, and he gasped as his lungs leapt for the air it had been denied. She chuckled again, low and enticing. He still trembled, but now, he felt something else, too... The girl with the dark eyes offered him a hand. His eyes traveled from her palm to the abyss and back. Slowly, he brought his hand up and took hers. She guided him out of his seat - he caught himself at the edge of his desk as his shaking legs buckled from their extended tension. She grinned, sharp teeth like stone in a cave. "Well, I think I have a fun idea for the weekend. Let's gather a few of your friends, and we'l visit some place nice in the wilds. And we'll have such a treat in store for them, won't we?" He nodded - it was all he could do, really. She looked a little lower at the lapel of his uniform. She thumbed his name-badge. "You've such a nice name, too. 'Thanos'." She smiled at him. He drank it in, enraptured. "We're going to have a lot of fun together, yes?" Thanos responded instinctively, "Yes... mistress."
Edit - Wow we made the front page, thank you for everyone that replied with their stories, I have had a lot of fun reading them all!!! Edit 2- thank you kind stranger for my first gold!!! Edit 3- 2 Gold's!!! Holy Shit, I honestly thought this post wasn't going to go anywhere but now it is my most upvoted post ever by far, and 2 Gold's Jesus Christ. Thank you again everyone that commented, upvoted and gifted the gold you are all special to me! 👌👌👌👌	[WP] Everytime you think of a funny joke, this girl in your class always laughs, you chalk it up to coincidence but you think to yourself, "If you can read my mind, slap the table three times" the the girl looks over at you, stares right into your eyes, and slowly slaps the table three times.	It was another miserable, cold, drizzly autumn day- and of course, I forgot to put on a jacket. I was walking to my physics class, shivering all the while. “Need a coat?” I turned around. Behind me was a girl- actually, one of my class-mates. “No, thanks, I’ll be fine.” She looked at me, skeptically. “You sure of that?” “Yeah, Marie. I’m good.” “Okay. Your loss.” She puffed on, toward the auditorium. &#x200B; Another nine AM lecture on thermodynamics- Professor Ehrenfest’s droning was only interrupted by the scratching noises of a hundred pencils on paper. Ehrenfest? More like Snoozefest. Marie laughed. I instinctively put my hand over my mouth. Had I said that aloud? Ehrenfest would skin me alive if he had heard that- he was not one who suffered jokes gladly. No one else had laughed, though, and Marie was sitting three rows below me. I chalked it up to chance. Ehrenfest pulled up another slide. “Now, can someone please tell me, what is the theoretical efficiency of this engine?” Simple. Just one minus low temperature divided by high temperature. High is eight hundred ten kelvin, low is two seventy, two thirds. Marie raised her hand. “Marie?” “It’s two thirds.” “Good. How did you get there?” “The efficiency is one minus low temperature divided by high temperature. High is eight hundred ten kelvin, low is two seventy. Two thirds.” “Very good.” Huh. Took the words right out of my mouth. Now, I’m a scientist. I’m not usually one who believed in the supernatural. However, having someone copy not just my answer, but my words, spooked me a bit. Maybe it was too close to Halloween, but… If you can hear this, tap your desk, three times. I stared intensely at Marie, as she tapped her desk once…twice…three times. My blood froze. Oh my God, she’s a telepath?! I thought it was cool- for about a millisecond. That’s when I realized that Marie could likely hear everything coming out of my head. My mind raced, trying to determine how bad this could be. Then I saw Marie wheel around in her seat, and look directly at me. Come on, act natural… I took a breath, and smiled back at Marie. She nodded, and turned back to look at the blackboard. &#x200B; 10 AM. Class over. I packed at record speed, dashed up the stairs, and sprinted down the pathway, seeking the safety of my own room. But how safe is it? What if Marie can still hear me? This is not good… “Wait!” I recognized the voice, and picked up speed. My legs protested every step I took, but that was better than losing the privacy of my own mind. “Slow down!” The voice was closer now. I hung a left, cutting across the grass toward my dorm room. That was when Marie crashed into me at full tilt. Three hundred pounds of human, backpack, and water bottle smashed into the Earth. I tasted grass, dirt, and iron. My nose was bleeding, my face scratched. Marie rolled off me, and we both got up slowly, gasping for breath. “Why did you tackle me!” Marie was still breathing hard. “I just… wanted to explain. Before you got away. Stop you from panicking.” “What, that you can-” “Read minds? Yeah.” “So what are you, some kind of-” “Superhuman? I guess. No, I’m not Professor X. He’s more powerful than I am.” “Do you know-” “How I got these powers? No. I just know I’ve had them as long as I can remember. As for what I can hear?” She smiled, and shook her head. “Everything. Every thought. I know that Kei has the hots for Sophia, that Roy’s mom died last week, that you’re…” Her voice cut off abruptly. “But doesn’t it get… you know, overwhelming?” She scratched her head. “A bit, yeah. It’s why I keep to myself, mostly. I mean, hey, it is what it is.” She looked straight at me, her pale eyes seeming to see right through me. “Look, I’m sorry for reading your mind without your permission. It’s just that… I’m in dire need of someone who gets me, and judging by what I’ve seen, we’re in the same boat. So what do you say? Friends?” I stared at Marie. She did read my mind- but she had a point. I’d barely gained any friends since I moved here. I shook her hand. “I guess so.” &#x200B; It was the best decision I'd ever made. &#x200B; \\\\\\ Hi WP, I'm new here- this is my second prompt! Feedback appreciated!	He held his breath, half-choking on the air held within him. Her eyes were locked on his, her dark hair spilling around her face, her body twisted to face him from her seat at the front of the class. Nobody was paying attention to their exchange, other students sliding materials into their bags and making their way out of class. In moments, they were the last two in the room. With the ease of a predator who'd already won, she stood from her chair and began to walk towards him. He instinctively started to shift away, as if any bit farther was better than the current proximity. His instincts screamed warnings, but he couldn't look away from her eyes. They seemed to eat at him, eat at something within him. Suddenly, she was standing right at the edge of the desk, and he wondered at how he could have missed that. "You seem to have a problem paying attention," she started. The smirk on her lips spoke of amusement. "You've been having quite the daydreams, haven't you?" Her eyes, twin voids on her pale face, dug right into him. The abyss was staring right back, and he was utterly caught in its embrace. He opened his mouth to stammer out some sort of reply, but she pinned his lips shut with a single slender finger. 'Cold,' he thought. She chuckled, something dark and throaty. "Not quite as cold as you. But the plans you have to kill everyone in class? Now those are cold." She knew. An icy chill seemed to sweep through him from the pale digit upon his lips. His eyes were wide and his hands (still and always free, yet seemingly confined to his desk) twitched in inaction. He was prey pinned by the predator and with nowhere to run. Adrenaline racing through his form, it slipped his mind that this girl could never prove his monstrous musings, and he scrambled to find a way out of her clutches. She could definitely hear his thoughts. Her eyes - those eyes! - narrowed; she 'tsked' and sat in his lap. Every muscle that had been spasming in terror became stone. She wore a disappointed frown and turned one finger into five, caressing his jaw. He couldn't move - he was trapped, mentally and now physically. He also noticed that her legs were quite shapely. In horror and disbelief, he felt a stirring between his legs. Almost immediately, she noticed. That smirk from before returned and she shifted ever so slightly, mocking him. He grimaced, but kept his mouth shut, even as her thumb smoothed the edge of his mouth. "You're terribly amusing, you know. It's been years since I've come across such an interesting specimen." She let her hand trace the line from his ear to his chin, and her eyes roved the map of his head and face, inspecting and exploring it's every contour. "But if you'll just listen to what I have to say, I think you'll enjoy yourself a little, too." Abruptly, she stood up. The glacier-like freeze that had settled into his muscles was suddenly whisked away, and he gasped as his lungs leapt for the air it had been denied. She chuckled again, low and enticing. He still trembled, but now, he felt something else, too... The girl with the dark eyes offered him a hand. His eyes traveled from her palm to the abyss and back. Slowly, he brought his hand up and took hers. She guided him out of his seat - he caught himself at the edge of his desk as his shaking legs buckled from their extended tension. She grinned, sharp teeth like stone in a cave. "Well, I think I have a fun idea for the weekend. Let's gather a few of your friends, and we'l visit some place nice in the wilds. And we'll have such a treat in store for them, won't we?" He nodded - it was all he could do, really. She looked a little lower at the lapel of his uniform. She thumbed his name-badge. "You've such a nice name, too. 'Thanos'." She smiled at him. He drank it in, enraptured. "We're going to have a lot of fun together, yes?" Thanos responded instinctively, "Yes... mistress."
Edit - Wow we made the front page, thank you for everyone that replied with their stories, I have had a lot of fun reading them all!!! Edit 2- thank you kind stranger for my first gold!!! Edit 3- 2 Gold's!!! Holy Shit, I honestly thought this post wasn't going to go anywhere but now it is my most upvoted post ever by far, and 2 Gold's Jesus Christ. Thank you again everyone that commented, upvoted and gifted the gold you are all special to me! 👌👌👌👌	[WP] Everytime you think of a funny joke, this girl in your class always laughs, you chalk it up to coincidence but you think to yourself, "If you can read my mind, slap the table three times" the the girl looks over at you, stares right into your eyes, and slowly slaps the table three times.	It was another miserable, cold, drizzly autumn day- and of course, I forgot to put on a jacket. I was walking to my physics class, shivering all the while. “Need a coat?” I turned around. Behind me was a girl- actually, one of my class-mates. “No, thanks, I’ll be fine.” She looked at me, skeptically. “You sure of that?” “Yeah, Marie. I’m good.” “Okay. Your loss.” She puffed on, toward the auditorium. &#x200B; Another nine AM lecture on thermodynamics- Professor Ehrenfest’s droning was only interrupted by the scratching noises of a hundred pencils on paper. Ehrenfest? More like Snoozefest. Marie laughed. I instinctively put my hand over my mouth. Had I said that aloud? Ehrenfest would skin me alive if he had heard that- he was not one who suffered jokes gladly. No one else had laughed, though, and Marie was sitting three rows below me. I chalked it up to chance. Ehrenfest pulled up another slide. “Now, can someone please tell me, what is the theoretical efficiency of this engine?” Simple. Just one minus low temperature divided by high temperature. High is eight hundred ten kelvin, low is two seventy, two thirds. Marie raised her hand. “Marie?” “It’s two thirds.” “Good. How did you get there?” “The efficiency is one minus low temperature divided by high temperature. High is eight hundred ten kelvin, low is two seventy. Two thirds.” “Very good.” Huh. Took the words right out of my mouth. Now, I’m a scientist. I’m not usually one who believed in the supernatural. However, having someone copy not just my answer, but my words, spooked me a bit. Maybe it was too close to Halloween, but… If you can hear this, tap your desk, three times. I stared intensely at Marie, as she tapped her desk once…twice…three times. My blood froze. Oh my God, she’s a telepath?! I thought it was cool- for about a millisecond. That’s when I realized that Marie could likely hear everything coming out of my head. My mind raced, trying to determine how bad this could be. Then I saw Marie wheel around in her seat, and look directly at me. Come on, act natural… I took a breath, and smiled back at Marie. She nodded, and turned back to look at the blackboard. &#x200B; 10 AM. Class over. I packed at record speed, dashed up the stairs, and sprinted down the pathway, seeking the safety of my own room. But how safe is it? What if Marie can still hear me? This is not good… “Wait!” I recognized the voice, and picked up speed. My legs protested every step I took, but that was better than losing the privacy of my own mind. “Slow down!” The voice was closer now. I hung a left, cutting across the grass toward my dorm room. That was when Marie crashed into me at full tilt. Three hundred pounds of human, backpack, and water bottle smashed into the Earth. I tasted grass, dirt, and iron. My nose was bleeding, my face scratched. Marie rolled off me, and we both got up slowly, gasping for breath. “Why did you tackle me!” Marie was still breathing hard. “I just… wanted to explain. Before you got away. Stop you from panicking.” “What, that you can-” “Read minds? Yeah.” “So what are you, some kind of-” “Superhuman? I guess. No, I’m not Professor X. He’s more powerful than I am.” “Do you know-” “How I got these powers? No. I just know I’ve had them as long as I can remember. As for what I can hear?” She smiled, and shook her head. “Everything. Every thought. I know that Kei has the hots for Sophia, that Roy’s mom died last week, that you’re…” Her voice cut off abruptly. “But doesn’t it get… you know, overwhelming?” She scratched her head. “A bit, yeah. It’s why I keep to myself, mostly. I mean, hey, it is what it is.” She looked straight at me, her pale eyes seeming to see right through me. “Look, I’m sorry for reading your mind without your permission. It’s just that… I’m in dire need of someone who gets me, and judging by what I’ve seen, we’re in the same boat. So what do you say? Friends?” I stared at Marie. She did read my mind- but she had a point. I’d barely gained any friends since I moved here. I shook her hand. “I guess so.” &#x200B; It was the best decision I'd ever made. &#x200B; \\\\\\ Hi WP, I'm new here- this is my second prompt! Feedback appreciated!	As Angel and my eyes lock, the sound of the teachers voice is drowned out by her mesmerizing gaze and playful smile. In slow motion her smile begins to expand as she raises her hand above the desk and she never removes her eyes from mine, faintly squints and slaps the table three times. Everything around us became blurry to me as my heart began to race. I felt feelings of strong confusion and symmetry. “Can you hear me?” I asked in disbelief and inwardly to myself. “Yes”. The sweetest and softest voice I had ever heard replied again and I felt filled with strong sensations of warmth. “Angel…are you reading my mind?” “No. I am listening to your voice”. There was her voice again chuckling as she spoke. I felt a warmness this time in my heart. “How are you doing this. Am I going crazy?” I asked Angel without a word. “John! John! John! What are you, day dreaming?” “No, Mrs. Patterson.” “What did I say then?” “uh, you were talking about…” My mind had gone blank, I began to feel embarrassment and anxiety swelling as I felt the students in class focusing on me knowing I wasn’t paying attention. “You were talking about, when the…” Ah man I’m so fucked. “Tell her that earth is 92,955,820 miles away from the sun. Earth is a complex interactive system. Say it”. I heard Angel’s voice in my head and I turned to her and she lightly flicked her head forward and said without moving her lips “what are you waiting for?” I hastily blurted to Mrs. Patterson what Angel had said to me. Mrs. Patterson’s heavy sullen expression looked minorly surprised, she gave me half of a smile and turned back around to write on the white board. I took a deep breath of relief as I sat back in my chair and slowly turned my head toward Angel who greeted me with a smile. “Close one”. She chuckled “Thank you, Angel, but, how are you doing this, how are we doing this?” With her eyes she directed me to focus on the Mrs. Patterson who was checking if students were paying attention. “Watch Mrs. Patterson alright.” As I watched the teacher draw some planet on the white board I listened to Angels soft and smooth voice passing through my neural connections. “We are using our heads to communicate”. “But how are you doing it?” “I have a gift. Cool right?” “Yes and amazing ! You can read minds!” “Actually I can’t read minds. But I can listen to people inner voice.” “Are you a human being”? “What does that supposed to mean?” I turned my head to Angel afraid I caused her offense. Her hands above the table, palms open , fingers extended, she had an expression that asked “What kind question is that” as she shook head from side to side. “No, I mean, I’m sorry, your name is Angel so I thought maybe you had fallen from heaven or something.” I felt so stupid saying that. She laughed and I could hear her voice resonating in my head and inside my body, but she showed no expression but a smile on the outside. “Your funny and you’re a dork.” I chuckled aloud. “Is something funny John? Then what are you laughing at?” “Oh no” says Angel. “Tell her, her lessons suck haha”. I smiled and began to turn toward Angel and said aloud “I can’t say tha..” before catching myself. Mrs. Patterson had a bewildered expression on her face and looked over to Angel and the other students in the general direction. Nobody said anything. Mrs. Patterson stared at me as if I was crazy, widened her eyes and said “Okaaayyy” as she shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. The other students laughed. “ OMG did you forget which voice to use? HAha your so funny John. Your such an idiot!” “Thanks…That was embarrassing, every now thinks I’m crazy.” “Well you are talking to yourself…” “Hey no Im talking to you . Im not crazy!” “Yea. Haha. Your good though. How bout I make it up to you. Why don’t we go to Game N Busters after class and I can show you something really cool?” “Game N Busters? Yea I want to go but I don’t have any money.” “No problem, that’s why we are going to the Casino first. We can play black jack and poker and win some cash then go out, how’s that sound?” “Um”. “C’mon, John it will be fun, you can even choose where to eat and Im driving. That’s a good deal, right?” “Ya, but I don’t know how to play Black Jack or Poker.” “Really, no problem, I’ll teach you on the way there its really easy, plus you can look it up on your cell phone. How about today we start with black jack only?” “Yea, black jack, um alright, let’s do it!” The bells rings shortly after Angel finishes her conversation with me. Mrs. Patterson is now handing out homework after the bell has rung and I am thinking if my conversation with Angel is real or in my imagination. Black Jack, dinner and Game N Busters. “Angel are you there.” “Yep, got my homework. Did you”. “Yes”. “Well lets go have some fun.” I catch a glimpse of Mrs. Patterson watching me, scratching her head as I walk out of class.
Edit - Wow we made the front page, thank you for everyone that replied with their stories, I have had a lot of fun reading them all!!! Edit 2- thank you kind stranger for my first gold!!! Edit 3- 2 Gold's!!! Holy Shit, I honestly thought this post wasn't going to go anywhere but now it is my most upvoted post ever by far, and 2 Gold's Jesus Christ. Thank you again everyone that commented, upvoted and gifted the gold you are all special to me! 👌👌👌👌	[WP] Everytime you think of a funny joke, this girl in your class always laughs, you chalk it up to coincidence but you think to yourself, "If you can read my mind, slap the table three times" the the girl looks over at you, stares right into your eyes, and slowly slaps the table three times.	It was another miserable, cold, drizzly autumn day- and of course, I forgot to put on a jacket. I was walking to my physics class, shivering all the while. “Need a coat?” I turned around. Behind me was a girl- actually, one of my class-mates. “No, thanks, I’ll be fine.” She looked at me, skeptically. “You sure of that?” “Yeah, Marie. I’m good.” “Okay. Your loss.” She puffed on, toward the auditorium. &#x200B; Another nine AM lecture on thermodynamics- Professor Ehrenfest’s droning was only interrupted by the scratching noises of a hundred pencils on paper. Ehrenfest? More like Snoozefest. Marie laughed. I instinctively put my hand over my mouth. Had I said that aloud? Ehrenfest would skin me alive if he had heard that- he was not one who suffered jokes gladly. No one else had laughed, though, and Marie was sitting three rows below me. I chalked it up to chance. Ehrenfest pulled up another slide. “Now, can someone please tell me, what is the theoretical efficiency of this engine?” Simple. Just one minus low temperature divided by high temperature. High is eight hundred ten kelvin, low is two seventy, two thirds. Marie raised her hand. “Marie?” “It’s two thirds.” “Good. How did you get there?” “The efficiency is one minus low temperature divided by high temperature. High is eight hundred ten kelvin, low is two seventy. Two thirds.” “Very good.” Huh. Took the words right out of my mouth. Now, I’m a scientist. I’m not usually one who believed in the supernatural. However, having someone copy not just my answer, but my words, spooked me a bit. Maybe it was too close to Halloween, but… If you can hear this, tap your desk, three times. I stared intensely at Marie, as she tapped her desk once…twice…three times. My blood froze. Oh my God, she’s a telepath?! I thought it was cool- for about a millisecond. That’s when I realized that Marie could likely hear everything coming out of my head. My mind raced, trying to determine how bad this could be. Then I saw Marie wheel around in her seat, and look directly at me. Come on, act natural… I took a breath, and smiled back at Marie. She nodded, and turned back to look at the blackboard. &#x200B; 10 AM. Class over. I packed at record speed, dashed up the stairs, and sprinted down the pathway, seeking the safety of my own room. But how safe is it? What if Marie can still hear me? This is not good… “Wait!” I recognized the voice, and picked up speed. My legs protested every step I took, but that was better than losing the privacy of my own mind. “Slow down!” The voice was closer now. I hung a left, cutting across the grass toward my dorm room. That was when Marie crashed into me at full tilt. Three hundred pounds of human, backpack, and water bottle smashed into the Earth. I tasted grass, dirt, and iron. My nose was bleeding, my face scratched. Marie rolled off me, and we both got up slowly, gasping for breath. “Why did you tackle me!” Marie was still breathing hard. “I just… wanted to explain. Before you got away. Stop you from panicking.” “What, that you can-” “Read minds? Yeah.” “So what are you, some kind of-” “Superhuman? I guess. No, I’m not Professor X. He’s more powerful than I am.” “Do you know-” “How I got these powers? No. I just know I’ve had them as long as I can remember. As for what I can hear?” She smiled, and shook her head. “Everything. Every thought. I know that Kei has the hots for Sophia, that Roy’s mom died last week, that you’re…” Her voice cut off abruptly. “But doesn’t it get… you know, overwhelming?” She scratched her head. “A bit, yeah. It’s why I keep to myself, mostly. I mean, hey, it is what it is.” She looked straight at me, her pale eyes seeming to see right through me. “Look, I’m sorry for reading your mind without your permission. It’s just that… I’m in dire need of someone who gets me, and judging by what I’ve seen, we’re in the same boat. So what do you say? Friends?” I stared at Marie. She did read my mind- but she had a point. I’d barely gained any friends since I moved here. I shook her hand. “I guess so.” &#x200B; It was the best decision I'd ever made. &#x200B; \\\\\\ Hi WP, I'm new here- this is my second prompt! Feedback appreciated!	"Tap twice if this is mind reading." She taps twice, then three times. "Tap twice if it's something weirder." Silence. "Tap twice if you can let me ask some non-binary questions after class." Two taps. Thank goodness. ----- The classroom empties, and she walks up to me. "My name is Jane, and you are Eliabeth. And before you can ask, it's not quite mind reading, if you'd ask me, unless you ask, does Adsense read your mind?" I present a blank look. "... Pardon?" She points at my computer. "Does Adsense know what you're looking at? Even if you're using adblocker, isn't something observing you?" This is getting creepier than just plain-ol' mind reading. She must be able to read my face at this point. "I'm the biggest private privacy violater till you get to a datacenter. And you seemed like you might be interested in what I have in mind." She taps her computer bag. "These little computers, they listen, and they're smart. Really smart. Illegally smart. I can break the crypto that the internet runs on. And add to that, I've been studying marketing and mathematical sociology." She points at me. I gulp. "You are predictable." "Am not!", I shout, as she does too. "I'm a free spirit!", we speak. "I have a ... Oh, sod it.", we conclude. I shake my head. "Why me?" "Because if I'm not mistaken, you're interested, concerned, and have few scruples for using this technology if it advances a few goals we share in common." She leans in and smiles, then softly sings out, "You'd like to change the world? Well, I know just what to do."
Edit - Wow we made the front page, thank you for everyone that replied with their stories, I have had a lot of fun reading them all!!! Edit 2- thank you kind stranger for my first gold!!! Edit 3- 2 Gold's!!! Holy Shit, I honestly thought this post wasn't going to go anywhere but now it is my most upvoted post ever by far, and 2 Gold's Jesus Christ. Thank you again everyone that commented, upvoted and gifted the gold you are all special to me! 👌👌👌👌	[WP] Everytime you think of a funny joke, this girl in your class always laughs, you chalk it up to coincidence but you think to yourself, "If you can read my mind, slap the table three times" the the girl looks over at you, stares right into your eyes, and slowly slaps the table three times.	And then she turned back at the blackboard and we carried on with our lesson like nothing happened. The ice was broken anyway, I suppose. So I thought I'll go talk to her at our next break. At the vending machine. How I know she'll be at the vending machine? Cause I just thought of it. Simple as that. So I went at the vending machine and sure, there she was. I approached her. "Hi, I'm Naky Maton, from math class, but you already know that, don't you?" I said and I smiled. "Naky what...?" she seemed puzzled. It looked like she had no idea why I had approached her. "Yeah, I know, it's a strange name, I actually come from..." I started to explain, but she cut me off mid sentence. "Listen, Kaky, I really have to go to the class." And with that we parted. Funny thing, isn't it? One moment she is reading my thoughts and smiling at me, the other moment she doesn't even know me. But she was at the vending machine and did not have any candy in her hands. So why was she there? So I came to a conclusion, I tested my hypothesis, and guess what? She did read my mind. She just did not know it. Every thought that I had was transfered to her in a subconcious manner. If I laughed, she laughed. And when I saw her smile, I laughed, so she laughed some more, and then I... Then we both were holding in our laughter in the middle of the class. She did not know why, but she liked it. I did know why and I loved. I loved every second of it. And so we lived in this tandem of thoughts. If I saw her sad in class, I read some jokes off of Reddit til she started smiling. If I saw her in new clothes, I told her with my mind that she looks good. And when the exams came, I studied very hard so I could tell her all the right answers. From that day we both always got an "A+". And when I found out that she also takes the "History of Cultures" class, I went to library and read everything on it, as I did not take that class myself, but I did not want her to get a bad grade. So on the day of the exam I sat down at the door of her class and read the summary of her lesson plan. She got a B, but that's alright, considering I could not see her exam questions this time. And thus began our last year of school together. I realized that after this I might never see her anymore. I did not know her plans after school. So this is it. I should approach her now and we would spend this year together. Who knows what will happen, right? I approached her, I started smalltalk. And then. Yeah... I will be able to quote this ad verbatim until the day I die. "Are you that "Kaka" guy? Stop being such a fucking weirdo creep. I don't like you. If you keep looking at me all the time, you'll be sorry." And that's that. I guess I never was able to read her mind, now was I? She grabbed her books, walked over to her friends, pointed at me and half of them laughed, half gave me the "I'm so angry with you" stare. I kept on sitting there. At the evening I went home and locked myself in the room. I stopped eating, I stopped going to school, I stopped being. My mother did knock at my door once or twice, but then my parents decided that I'm "having a phase" and left me alone. And I suppose I did have a rather bad phase. Truth be told, I do not remember much of it. All I remember was sitting in my room in complete darkness and crying. Oh I lamented her so. I hated her so. I despised her with every fiber that I had. With every little bit in me I commanded her to rot. And all because I wanted to turn myself to dust and float away. In the deepest being of me, I just did not want to exist. So that lead me to the logical conclusion. Never say I'm not a man of action. I did sit on the ledge of the bridge for a long time in the starry night. Thinking of her. Thinking of myself. Thinking of wishing that either one of us should stop existing. I looked down into the water for a long time. It called me, I called back, it invited me, and I... Never it be said I'm not a man of action. Jump. And then I woke up in a hospital. The nurses were telling me it is ok, my mother was crying right next to me, there were some policemen who wanted to talk to me. It's rather a confusing feeling to have. The happiness that your child has survived and the understanding of what exactly has he survived. I suppose this feeling will never leave them. But it will leave me. Somehow I feel that I had gotten rid of the horror I felt. Like I had to jump to kill that part of me. And I did and so it died. I felt free. I was ready to go to school now. The police asked me some questions, asked me about my love life, asked me if I were involved with someone, but I had nothing to tell them. "I thought to a girl for a while" is not an answer. So I returned to the school and I saw everyone in awful spirits. At first I thought that it was because of me, but nobody seemed to notice me at all. Even the teachers. And only when we all got summoned to the gym, they told the news. It turns out the girl had jumped off a bridge. The same night I did it. Only she was on the other bridge. Only she did not wake up in the hospital. And now I don't know what to think. I mean it literally. I want to cry again, I want to suffer for what I've done, I want to curse. But dare I? What if I am connected to someone else? What links are weaved between us? Should I ask everyone to slap their tables from now on? Am I harmful now? Am I to think only good? Were I given just one chance and I threw it off the bridge? Do I dare cry about it? [Literary Nobody](https://www.reddit.com/r/LiteraryNobody/)	It was just as I thought... She's a mind reader. Until now, I had assumed they were just a myth, but it turns out my tin foil hat-wearing friend was right. I knew what I had to do. I couldn't allow an individual to have such a dangerous power. I looked at the girl, smiled, and screamed in my head as loud as I could. At first she looked confused, and then visibly discomforted. It wasn't enough, I had to go LOUDER. I imagined a drill Sargent constantly yelling in my ear with a bullhorn. When I looked back at the girl, she was instinctively covering her ears, despite its futility. Other classmates were starting to take notice and were giving her strange looks, as well as a few looks my way for thinking so intensely, as evidenced by my spasming facial muscles. Still not loud enough! I thought. I closed my eyes, cleared my mind of all other thoughts, and imagined an Army of screaming drill Sargents in the middle of an earthquake with hundreds of nuclear bombs exploding every second, and that all the noise was being channeled directly into my ears through big-ass funnels. I kept this up for a solid minute until I was mentally exhausted from all the imaginary noise I was making. When I opened my eyes, I saw the whole class crowded around the girl, who was now unconscious. She regained consciousness around the same time the school nurse came in to check her. As she was leaving the room with the nurse, she looked at me one last time. I said in my thoughts "If you can still read my mind, hold up two fingers." She only held up one. To this day I still don't know if I disabled her power or if I just really pissed her off...
	[WP] She's denied it but to them, the evidence is indisputable--she's a witch. Despite her pleas they prepare to burn her. The fire gets hotter and the people gather, but to their surprise (and hers), she isn't burning.	REBIRTH: PART I \\\\\* “Lyon please!” The thick iron chains that bound her wrists rattled violently as she thrashed against them. The mousy thin boy stepped backwards as her eyes pleaded to him in desperation. The rest of the crowd stood silent, their expressions were no different than the rain worn statues that bowed their heads before the town’s single church. The visiting bishop read claim after claim, speaking of black sorcery and unholy witchcraft. He rattled along, his withered voice simply adding background noise to Farah’s tearful begging. They all knew there was something unnatural about the girl. The way she could almost lift and entire wagon with one arm, the copious amounts of food she scarfed down at the dinner table. No one would have expected that her strange quirks would cumulate into accusations of witchcraft and heresy. Farah’s pleas grew faint and her voice grew tired. She gazed out into the crowd and to the people she knew best. She spent her entire life in Fallsburrow yet those that she felt closest to stood silent in her time of need. Arvey, the smith that she spent years bending metal for now simply stared at the dirt in shame. Lyon, the shy farmer's son who once gave her blushing looks now couldn’t raise his chin to meet her eyes. Inside she begged for someone, for ANYONE to step forward and challenge the bishop. But no, they all stood paralyzed – strangled by the authority of the bishop and the power of the church. Farah stood alone upon a pile of cinderwood. Alone and bound to an iron cross that restrained her unnatural strength -strength that she only ever used to do good and aid those now poised to watch her burn. If only they knew how bishop Maldain tried to force himself on her the night before. If only they knew about her fearful flight into the woods to escape him… The flint was sparked and the inquisitor grew closer with a freshly lit torch. She couldn’t look. She didn’t want to think about the pain, about her skin being seared by the lapping flames, about the smell of her own flesh cooking within the crackling pyre. She closed her eyes and prayed it would be quick. The dark veil cast by Farah’s own closed eyes flashed red then white. She knew the pyre was lit. The crackling boomed all around her, bombarding her ears with terrifying snaps and pops. She screamed uncontrollably and thrashed wildly against the iron cross. What she thought would be searing pain was instead lukewarm, like a summer river. She braced for the pain but it never came. There were gasps in the crowd, followed by bewildered whispers. Something was wrong. She opened her eyes. The flames curled around her body, having already burned her ragged dress into cinders but finding nothing more to feed their hunger. Her skin refused to burn, instead the flames danced playfully upon her arms and legs. She stood upon the pyre, wide-eyed and confused. The chains and cross that bound her were now glowing white hot, like forged steel. She stepped forward and broke free from her molten bindings with little effort. “Witch! Demon!” The arch bishop jabbed toward her with a leering finger. “Kill her! Kill her now!” He screamed. It was then that one of the bishop’s guardsmen drew a pike and charged forward. The gleaming spear tip never reached Farah. Instead the man stopped in mid charge and rasped. There was a large glassy object protruding from the man’s chest. It was a misty spear, a spear completely forged from winterfrost. Bishop Maldain’s inquisitor and the crowd drew back as a figure approached from the edge of the town square. It was heavy framed man, fully clad in the armor of a Nordic raider. Hoarfrost followed the man’s every step, covering every mound of grass he stepped upon in a tessellation of ice crystals. The torch bearing inquisitor stepped forward and the cold wind snapped at him, snuffing away the flame he held. The red and white robed inquisitor then pulled a silver cross from his vestments and raised it against the looming figure. “In the name of the Lord stay back! I command you! Begone from here!” The Nordic figure stopped and the howling winds around him subsided to a whisper. His pale blue lips spoke one word. “Fools.” The man’s winter veil suddenly wailed like a banshee’s cry. From the deep mists came an armory of icy weapons. Axes, swords, spears, clubs. The shimmering shapes tore through the inquisitor, sundering him into giblets of meat and crystallized blood. The remaining guards and townspeople began to flee in panic. The Nordic man extended his hand, commanding his array of killing frost to sail through the air and into the crowd. Limbs arced through the air, sprays of red crystal followed, and screams were cut short. There was chaos, then silence. Farah stood in shock. The flames of the pyre and the iron that bound her were long doused by the man’s winter aura and her skin prickled as the cold bit at her. In mere seconds this man had rended everything that she knew from the world. She tried to speak. “Who…” The man turned to face her. Two glowing azure eyes met her gaze and the man’s long white beard danced in the wind as his weapon’s returned to him, once again fading into the mist they were born from. “Do not fear child. I am like you, a kindred. They call me Skare, the Second Star of Winter.” The man's introduction was interrupted by a muffled plea among the rows of dead. “Please…” a voice trembled. Farah shifted her gaze to see a bloody bishop Maldain crawling through the mound of bodies. She gasped. The Nordic man approached the bishop, each step crackling the floor with ice. “Please, Lord please! Spare me!” Maldain begged the heavens. The Nordic man turned towards Farah. “Child, are you ready to understand what you truly are?” Farah simply stood there. It was all just too much for her to process. The Nordic man raised his arms into the sky. The mist surrounding him swirled violently and consumed him, becoming a howling twister. The winds expanded, enveloping Farah and threatening to pull her into the sky. In the eye of the storm she saw a massive form taking shape. Two azure crested wings reached into the sky, their tips reaching for the sun. A large spined tail emerged from the winds, crashing through the center of a small house. Before her stood a towering dragon, its body lined with rows of white scales that faded into a deep blue. Bishop Maldain screamed, begging the Lord for mercy. The creature’s snout lowered to level with the tiny bishop. Razor sharp teeth the size of a shortsword hovered inches from the man’s blood drained face. “Little human.” The creature bellowed. “There are only two gods in this world: magic and science.” The dragon raised a mighty claw into the air, blocking the sun from the bishop’s view. “You will soon understand that neither one is kind or merciful.” The claw came crashing down and the bishop's screams were drowned by churning earth.	((Apologies for the formatting.)) "I'm not a witch!" She screamed, pure terror and desperation in her voice as she struggled in vain against the ropes that tied her to the post. The people in the crowd surrounding her didn't even bat an eyelash at her pleas, instead simply shouting out for the fire to be lit and for the witch to burn. "I'm sorry, this is for your own good," I whispered to the girl as I lit a torch on fire, before touching it to the pile of fuel surrounding the wooden stake and the girl on the pole. It took several moments for the fire to begin spreading, licking up the wood and kissing the poor, begging girl's skin. She screamed and cried, but soon quieted, a mixture of confusion and relief spreading across her face. She was being consumed by the flames, and yet she was not burning. The crowd was awestruck, but soon used this little miracle as the metaphorical fuel for their own fire of hatred. They chanted: "Kill the witch! Kill the witch!" Even as the fire burned the clothes off of the girl's skin. However, she remained unscathed. "I'm not a witch," the poor, poor soul pleaded and cried, struggling futilely against the wooden stake she was tied to once more. I watched, motionless, despite the rapid movements of the crowd around me. It was true, the girl wasn't a witch after all. I was the witch, but no one would ever even consider the possibility of a person in the crowd being the one to cast a spell, let alone the very person who started the fire. It was the perfect revenge, life would never be the same for the poor girl again, if she even lived through the coming moments. But, it was what she deserved, for all the wrong she had done to me.... her very own sister.
	[WP] Scientists have developed a serum to make it so you don't have to sleep anymore. It is optional but comes with a catch: if you take it, you will never be able to sleep again.	&nbsp; A Cereal Sonnet &nbsp; Who needs Tony when there's no fast to break? Or Snap, Crackle and Pop for that matter? The serum gives Count Chocula the stake, And damns the makers of pancake batter. "But now you can all do more with your life!" Those experts on TV try to persuade, What good's a day if not cut by some knife, So that your dreams for the days can be made? This is your captain speaking, Cap'n Crunch, And I'm writing to tell of a great truth, That breakfast's not just a prologue to lunch, To keep your energy up in a booth, It's a ritual which deserves respect, And sleep, a magical realm to protect. &nbsp;	Initially, getting used to a life without having to sleep, or even deal with the trouble of getting sleepy seemed like heaven to me. "It's like drinking coffee every hour, without the part where you crash and burn mentally" I thought, trying to convince my brain that this wasn't a stupid idea. I popped off the cap and drunk as much of the slimy green liquid as my slim build could handle - which turned out to be the whole bottle. At first, well - I felt nothing. It WAS 8 am in the morning to be fair and I DID have my usual 8 hours of sleep (oh boy how I was going to miss that(!)). So I began my crazy experiments. I went out and bought as much Pizza, Fizzy Juice, Sleeping Tablets, Tea, Coffee - anything, that could make a man sickly tired. Realising that I could eat as much of these items as possible without wanting to take a nap made me feel like God for a day. I drunk half of the fizzy juice bottle and used it as my cauldron. Sleeping tablets I popped in first. Coffee beans soon followed, don't forget the tea bags and of course, to add some flavour, the finest pizza I could find, awkwardly squashed through the opening. Once again, even before going to work at 11, I felt - nothing. I strolled into the office almost laughing at my colleagues, crowding the coffee machine, squeezing out the juices that they would need to complete another day in the endless grind. One of my fellow colleagues who used to take coffee with me in the morning asked me in her usual soft, slightly accented voice, "no coffee today I see?". "Nah" I replied like the cocky ass I was. While working I realised that I could throw all-night parties with all of my colleagues and never feel tired. I would be most popular at work, I would probably get a raise from my boss and most importantly, it'll be hell of a lot of fun. I worked overtime that day, 5 hours overtime. I only left when there was no one left to judge. But alas alack, the day was over. Well, not for me! I quickly rushed on to my phone on the train and called for all of my friends and colleagues to meet at my house, for the "bestest party eva!!". I came home and there must have been, pff, 500 or so people there. But I was in the zone, I no longer felt like some throwaway loser who was only seen as a mere 'unit', but as an actual human, an actual superhero, a GOD! The party was epic. Truly epic. I used my superpowers to be the greatest host ever. Fuelling conversations, refilling drinks, hell I even busted out some dance moves like Miss Fernsby, in my old high school's prom. But, when it was 2 am in the morning. I heard the dreaded, "bye!" "see ya later" and worst of all, "i'm tired, I must go. See you at work!". "WHAT?" I thought, "How DARE these infertile cretins, leave because they are feeling a bit nappy." I ran to the doors and barricaded them... with my body. They tried to budge past me. I was in control. And I loved it. "Move, please". "No! You stay here". I must have stood there for a good 3 minutes. The people got rowdy and everyone was clearly furious... at me. Soon. I heard the sirens. I can still hear them in my head. "NI-NO-NI-NO!" It never stops. The police forced themselves in and arrested me on the spot for false imprisonment. I was sent to jail for the night. "Ok." I thought. "Maybe I should calm my act a bit. I am God after all. And. Well. God, was a good person, I presume. So. I should do the same! Yeah! When I get out of jail, I am going to be a different pers-". I was fired on the spot when I arrived to work the next day. "Ok, I lost my job. Fine. I can deal with this", still confident. All of my friends disappeared from my social networks. I controlled my emotions. I called Mum and explained the whole situation, she was cross. Extremely cross, and that was BEFORE I had told her about the whole, 'me being arrested thing'. When I told her. She said I was a lost cause and hung up immediately. Now the tears were rolling. I lost my job, friends and possibly family. I fell into a deep depression. The following months were the hardest of my life. I had to live every moment, awake. I couldn't sleep to hurry the inevitable and I lived in pure isolation for months. Eventually, my past experiments also caught up on me. I was vast and - well. Obese. I now carried the shame I inherited from the past with me everywhere. Everywhere. Everywhere. Weeks passed and I was in serious debt. The bank told me that if I couldn't pay my debts they'd have to take my house. I had nothing. I sold everything I had for coffee to try and overpower the potion. Nothing worked. The Bank came. Everything was gone. Like a rug had been pulled from underneath me in an instant. I was now a nothing. I sat for my first 3 hours homeless on the pavement and thought, "this is just a bad dream". Realising the reality made me cry instantly. I mistook the tears for rain. I now lived in the local park. I was terrified of the dark and ghastly figures would walk in the horizon, judging me. Judging me for my faults. No one loved me. I didn't love myself. How could I? Wasted my life away. For - for -... Nothing. I lie on the brown soggy bench today. Giving you my story. Goodnight. Please - don't pity my life.
Edit: Thank you all so much for your stories! I'm loving reading all of them :)	[WP] Since the accident, everyone completely blanks you and runs away terrified when you touch them. After 6 months of this, you've seen how pointless it all is to engage with the world and give up trying. Then a woman looks you dead in the eye and walks over. "Hey! So you turned invisible too?"	It happened on a rainy Tuesday, as I was walking back from school. I felt a powerful movement near my chest, like a sudden gust of wind. Then something hit me, and it all went black. I woke up feeling absolutely fine. I had been warned by my dad that this happens after an accident. It takes a while for the pain to set in because your body is in shock. If this happens, just lie down and wait to be rescued. So I did. I could hear people walking past, and the rain falling near my face. The crowd seemed excited. I heard footsteps to my left. "What a gorgeous car", said one girl. "It's a Maserati. No wonder everyone stopped to admire it", responded another. No one was paying attention to me, and laying under the rain gets old pretty fast. So I ignored my dad's advice, and stood up. It felt okay. I quickly checked myself. I seemed fine. No blood, no dust, no nothing. I looked quite good actually. I walked towards the Maserati. It glistened in the rain. No wonder everyone was admiring it. What rude people though. No one acknowledged my presence, or would move to let me get closer so I could see it better. Anyway, it was getting late, time to get on my way. With a brisk walk, I quickly caught up with the two girls from earlier. I recognised Eva, from swim class. I like her. So I shouted as I went past, "Hey Eva, nice car, eh!". She froze to death and stared right through me. "Did you hear that?" she whispered to her friend. "Hear what? Another one of your 'voices', Eva?" She chuckled, and dragged Eva away. I stood there in shock. What had just happened? Then I noticed her. A beautiful girl was standing across the street, seemingly oblivious to the rain. She had the shiniest golden hair I had ever seen, and a broad, peaceful smile. I instantly forgot all about Eva, fascinated. She hopped towards me with no hesitation, and said "Hey! So you turned invisible too?" "Of course not!" I said. "What a silly idea". And then it dawned on me. She was right. The crowd had completely blanked me. I had terrified Eva. I was invisible. Oh well, at least this beautiful girl noticed me. "Okay, maybe a little." I acknowledged. "And how do you know?" She stared right at me and uttered "Name's Azrail. It's my job to know. Come with me." She grabbed my hand and we walked to the park nearby. We sat on a bench. I couldn't help thinking she looked really, really beautiful. I noticed her big, blue, almost angelic eyes. There was deep sadness to them. Maybe she had been invisible for too long... We sat on the bench in silence for a while. The rain stopped. A rainbow appeared. "Here it is", she said, "The covenant. Let's go!" I was flabbergasted and a bit nervous. "Go where?". Her deep melancholic eyes looked straight at me: "You'll see. I think you'll like it. People you know are waiting for you."	Shocked at the sudden human interaction I had been missing and craving for so long, my eyes begin to well up with joyful tears. I start thinking about how ridiculous I must look to everyone around me, when suddenly what she said clicks - invisible!? With tears still in my eyes, my face shifts from one of happiness to one of confusion. "Do...you want to run that by me again?" I said, my voice shaking slightly, but still projecting an obvious level of concern. "Invisible!" She sounded a bit excited. "This is so exciting, I love greeting the invisible people! How did it happen to you?" What an odd pair of questions. How did it happen? Invisible people? Is she bullshitting me? "Look," I started. "As much as I am loving the fact that someone is actually acknowledging me, you're gonna have to prove that I'm invisible." Part of me actually kind of believed her, given the 6 months of evidence. I still wanted confirmation. "Pfft, that'll be easy. Come with me!" She extended her hand, which I was reluctant to take, but did so regardless. Something about her touch seemed comforting. Inviting, even. She lead me down several roads through the town, waving in the faces of passerby, which produced no reaction. I thought that was her proof, until she came to a stop. Next to us stood a towering gate, whose iron lettering spelled out a word that, upon seeing it, shook me down with an exasperating dread: CEMETERY She must have noticed, because she gave my hand a tight squeeze and produced a smile, and began leading me down the gravel path of the miniature necropolis. We walked for a couple minutes, coming to a stop at a headstone. On the headstone, as I had dreaded, was my name, birth date, and a date of death, listed to be six months ago, and the day the world began ignoring me. It was then that I really took in the woman before me. She was clad in a white sweater, bright enough of a white that one would assume it was bleached every other day, and pants of the same hue, with golden locks of hair that one could only describe as angelic. I cast her a morose glance, to which she nods with confirmation. I direct a blank stare to my headstone. "How did it happen?" I asked, somewhat thankful to have been blissfully unaware of my demise. She responded, but with a voice more divine, for lack of a better word. "I'm not permitted to tell you, but I can tell you that it was not painful, nor gruesome." I felt some manner of relief. "Come on," she said. "I have to take you." No explaination was needed. I knew exactly where I was being taken. I nodded, and suddenly a light, starting small and dim, but steadily and quickly increasing in both size and intensity, ripped into the air in front of me. I took the woman's hand once again as she lead me to the afterlife. I had finally accepted my death.
Edit: Thank you all so much for your stories! I'm loving reading all of them :)	[WP] Since the accident, everyone completely blanks you and runs away terrified when you touch them. After 6 months of this, you've seen how pointless it all is to engage with the world and give up trying. Then a woman looks you dead in the eye and walks over. "Hey! So you turned invisible too?"	It happened on a rainy Tuesday, as I was walking back from school. I felt a powerful movement near my chest, like a sudden gust of wind. Then something hit me, and it all went black. I woke up feeling absolutely fine. I had been warned by my dad that this happens after an accident. It takes a while for the pain to set in because your body is in shock. If this happens, just lie down and wait to be rescued. So I did. I could hear people walking past, and the rain falling near my face. The crowd seemed excited. I heard footsteps to my left. "What a gorgeous car", said one girl. "It's a Maserati. No wonder everyone stopped to admire it", responded another. No one was paying attention to me, and laying under the rain gets old pretty fast. So I ignored my dad's advice, and stood up. It felt okay. I quickly checked myself. I seemed fine. No blood, no dust, no nothing. I looked quite good actually. I walked towards the Maserati. It glistened in the rain. No wonder everyone was admiring it. What rude people though. No one acknowledged my presence, or would move to let me get closer so I could see it better. Anyway, it was getting late, time to get on my way. With a brisk walk, I quickly caught up with the two girls from earlier. I recognised Eva, from swim class. I like her. So I shouted as I went past, "Hey Eva, nice car, eh!". She froze to death and stared right through me. "Did you hear that?" she whispered to her friend. "Hear what? Another one of your 'voices', Eva?" She chuckled, and dragged Eva away. I stood there in shock. What had just happened? Then I noticed her. A beautiful girl was standing across the street, seemingly oblivious to the rain. She had the shiniest golden hair I had ever seen, and a broad, peaceful smile. I instantly forgot all about Eva, fascinated. She hopped towards me with no hesitation, and said "Hey! So you turned invisible too?" "Of course not!" I said. "What a silly idea". And then it dawned on me. She was right. The crowd had completely blanked me. I had terrified Eva. I was invisible. Oh well, at least this beautiful girl noticed me. "Okay, maybe a little." I acknowledged. "And how do you know?" She stared right at me and uttered "Name's Azrail. It's my job to know. Come with me." She grabbed my hand and we walked to the park nearby. We sat on a bench. I couldn't help thinking she looked really, really beautiful. I noticed her big, blue, almost angelic eyes. There was deep sadness to them. Maybe she had been invisible for too long... We sat on the bench in silence for a while. The rain stopped. A rainbow appeared. "Here it is", she said, "The covenant. Let's go!" I was flabbergasted and a bit nervous. "Go where?". Her deep melancholic eyes looked straight at me: "You'll see. I think you'll like it. People you know are waiting for you."	Six months back, when I saw the news about my disappearance on TV, I had let out a chuckle. That's what I wanted, didn't I? To disappear from this world, and find some time of my own. That accident from which I came out unscratched from the insides of a crashed SUV, provided me just that. I was in Barcelona, and in love with that city. It was the first time I was traveling to find inspiration. Something I had to do since it had been five years since I came out with my last novel. It was a bestseller. But the magic waned off after that. In my chateau, when I saw that news I felt wonderful. I needed some time off from the fans and journalists harrowing me about my next book. I closed myself in my room, stopped all connection from the outer world. Ate and slept in my room. Never went out. And then after two weeks of total hide-out, finally found my streak back. After that, I wrote and wrote and wrote. For two months, I stayed inside the chateau. Never went out except in disguise, ordered food only online through a local ordering portal. Snapped away all means of communication. And it worked. In three months, I was ready with my novel! I rewired my house phone (I didn't remember where I'd kept my phone) and called my agent. He picked at once, but it seemed here was some issue with the connection. While I heard him loud and clear, he couldn't listen to me at all. I went into the basement and drove out my BMW. In half an hour I was at his door. He opened the door and looked at me. I should say rather that he looked through me! For after only a few seconds he closed the door on me. I rang the doorbell again, and he opened the door again. But again he ignored me and closed the door on me. I would have kept on cursing him if I hadn't been walking absent mindedly on the road stumble upon a boy who was skating on the road. And then the look of horror on his face betrayed the funny thing that had happened to me. I had really disappeared. The boy left his skateboard and ran with his eyes wide and the color drained off his face. That day after a few more stumbling like this, it got confirmed. I had become invisible. Six months post that accident, with a book ready to publish, and my inability to talk to someone, I decided to take my own life. I was already dead. My body is gone, only an essence was left here. And it's hearsay to continue like this. In this form. Only a devil can do that, to remove my essence, soul from my body. I don't deserve to live. Standing on the edge of the bridge, among the hundreds of the passerby, it felt odd jumping off to take my life. But that's my curse. I had to die to free myself from this utterly useless form. So you can understand the surprise and spring in my steps when I heard someone speaking ... to me. 'So you too are like me!' It was a girl's voice. And I almost fell down hearing that voice. But I found my balance, turned around and found a woman in her mid-twenties smiling at me. 'you can really see me!' I asked in utter surprise. Yes, I can,' she smiled jubilantly. I jumped on the safer side of the bridge, stumbled, ran towards her, and hugged her that felt like an eternity. There were tears in my eyes. 'There there,' she said caressing my back. 'I know how it feels,' she continued saying, 'A year back I was there. And see, now I'm good.' I lifted my head from her shoulder and looked at her in surprise. 'So now you are normal?' I asked. She smiled and nodded her head. 'No, no. If you mean that invisible stuff. No, I'm still not visible. But we are not alone. there are many like us. We are, for the lack of better word, special. So it's a progress, isn't it? Finding that we are not alone.' A brief moment of hope that had surfaced within me ebbed away. But I knew she was right, at least I was not alone. This realization eased my pain a bit. But what is our purpose then? Wiping my tears off my face, I asked, 'So how does it help? We are still invisible. Work of devil. We better die.' 'No, no,' she said loudly this time. 'There is someone who can help us. I know his place. But I can not go alone there. So maybe we both can go.' 'Why not!' I shouted. 'Let's go then.' We slipped into the car and ran off the bridge. She gave me slip bearing an address. Must be an hour away, I estimated. During the journey, Rhea, that girl, told me about her life. She was a medical student and then one day she woke up in her dormitory to find that she had turned invisible. So it's not just an accident that could make one invisible, I reasoned. Maybe it's some kind of mutation, an illness. Whatever, I needed to go back to the normal life. I made a mental note of giving up on all the bad habits, helping my friends, seeing my parents more often. The navigator announced we have reached the destination. I looked out to find a duplex standing conspicuously in-between two big buildings. "Yes, it's the place" Rhea announced. "It seemed rather an odd one," I muttered to myself. But how does it matter until my works get done? We both walked into the house. The house had a musty smell. like that old house of my grandmother which always felt waterlogged, and covered with dust. 'Anybody home,' I asked loudly. Only a sound of birds fluttering returned in the response. As it was dark, I felt the floor cautiously and stepped forward. It was then I felt a sharp blow on my back. I stumbled forward two steps, and suddenly I was airborne. "What the..' I managed to say before I realised I was falling down and down in what seems like a well. After a few moments, I landed with a thud. I sat up at once and looked above. Only the opening of the wall appeared, its color the color of the waxing moon. Then came the sound of a laughter. A girl's laughter. It was Rhea. 'Sorry my friend,' her voice boomed above me, 'but one sun has to go down for other to come up. Now let me tell you if you can ever get out from here, which is unlikely considering that the opening will not last long, find someone like us, and send them here if you want to be normal again. It's a curse which has only one solution. Take this.' I saw a dark object coming down. It was a torch, followed by a book. 'Read this,' she said. 'it will tell you. 'My diary of the last one year.' And then her voice stopped. 'Please please..' I shouted. But she had left. I felt angry at her for doing this to me. Now knowing that I could be cured my desired to die was replaced by an acute desire to live. I opened her diary and started reading the page. What I read took my breath away... "It is not possible,' I whispered under my breath. She was a witch.
	[WP] You are part of a circle of scientists that have collaborated to fake the world into believing the sun was going supernova. As the generation ships carrying the rich, the flawed, the zealous, and the privileged leave Earth you decide its time to rebuild -the right way.	Bill: "So they lied to us." Elon: "Surprised? I'd always heard that the sun wasn't the type that would go supernova. I figured it was a lie." Bill: "Why didn't you say something?" Elon: "Get real. Between the virtue signalers, the tax men, and those goddamned ETH scammers on Twitter, you can be sure they never really appreciated us anyway. Let them enjoy their stupid little utopia for as long as it lasts." Bill: "You seem awful bitter about it." Elon: "Aren't you? You tried with that foundation of yours and I wasn't exactly running Tesla and Solar City for the fun and profit of it. And they still wanted our hides purely because our bank accounts were bigger." Bill: "Okay, fair point. I wonder how long it'll be before they miss us." Elon: "Probably not long. The fortunes we pumped into these buckets were basically holding the economy together. Now they've got nothing."	As i watched the last of the “arks”, carrying the most pompous and self destructive members of our race escape the atmosphere, I wondered to myself whether or not the passengers were afraid, if they knew that they had caused both the worst damage to the planet’s biosphere and were now giving it its best hope by abandoning it. “Semantics”, I thought to myself as the detonators primed themselves. “Once they get past the moon, they’ll be gone permanently. Then, the real work can begin.” I told myself, preparing the demolition relay before returning to the lab. The others didn’t need to know. As far as they knew, the scientists that the rich hired were probably incompetent. They probably didn’t know that i designed the engines that powered those ships, with the failsafe to ensure OUR future. “Piezonucleic chambers ready for startup”, I hear through the intercoms as LEO, our AI scans through all systems. “Once the debris from their launch and .... Exit clear from the atmosphere, relay supplies to any survivors and refugees in range of a Surveillance satellite. I’m going to set up isotope farms near the basement.” A simple matter, I thought to myself as I suited up and descended into the bowels of this labyrinth. Planting these seeds for rare elements should produce results within 9-11 months, perfect for the rebuilding process. Hope, something I thought I had lost long ago, rises in my heart.
	[WP] You are part of a circle of scientists that have collaborated to fake the world into believing the sun was going supernova. As the generation ships carrying the rich, the flawed, the zealous, and the privileged leave Earth you decide its time to rebuild -the right way.	His name was Bortimus Bucket. Short fellow, glasses, and wispy strands of hair that played and danced in the currents of static. And now very dead. Strapped to a bench and killed by us. The circle of seven. To the circle, the man was a hero. Humanities saviour. Willingly died to save us all. Like Jesus, but real. "Are you hearing me?" Asked Bort's Digitised voice. There was a round of amazed silence as the remaining six of us in the circle processed what just happened. The first human copied into cyberspace. "Y..Yes Bort, we hear you," Stammered Hilda, nearly knocking her tea everywhere. "How... do you feel?" "I... don't." He said softly. "It's nice" His face pops up on the screen. It looks sharper. He was always so nervous in human form. Bortimus had not had a good life. Evident in how fast he had volunteered to die. "Okay Bort..." I began. "He's dead. Please, call me Sam" "No problem Sam," I say, rolling with it. "Begin the operation" Sam disappears into cyberspace. And with those few words, my plan begins. Six people and a new form of life. Wordlessly the folk from the table stand and leave in silence. Academics. probably going home to study some more. "You okay Jack?" I hear Susan ask. She has lost even more weight, her coat hangs off her like a tarp. Her glasses perch on her gaunt face, hair unwashed and lank. The girl is smart, hell all the folks are here. "Fine and dandy Suzie Q," I respond. Actually, i'm better than that. I'm barely containing the fits of elation that run through me. How about we hit up a couple of drinks, and i take you dancing? Its taken five years to get to this point. We need to celebrate." "I can't dance, Jack" "The type of dancing i have in mind comes very naturally, Sue" "Uhhh..." She blushes and stammers. "No pressure, send me a text," I say, letting her off the hook with a shrug. A week passes. It's just amazing how little of anything is being said. The upper echelons of society have been supplied irrefutable evidence that in just five short years, the sun will explode. And there's not a whisper. The world spins along. I wish I could say I didn't know how this was going to go. But i do. I specialise in people, and people are so predictable. Six months go by. And the announcement of a new global initiative is dropped, much to the cheers and accolades of the world. Another two go by and the fusion reactor is invented. "Almost like there is massive resources being pooled into projects now." I say. Sue's asleep on my chest. She doesn't stir. Sams face appears on my wristwatch. I press answer. "Hey Sammy, how's it going?" "Unsure - but the project continues along." His voice possesses no rise and fall of intonation anymore. "They're just about to perfect Nanowoven silica." "And you've been helping them along?" "Yes, its not a difficult thing. Oh, and Jack. I will need you to end my program when this is done. Immortality does not appeal to me." I had been expecting this. Being human is a part of it all, only so long a man can be just a mind. "Already on it, old son, Got sue to whip me up a killcode in case you went ballistic" You can say these kinds of things to A.I. They're practical folk. "That will suffice." Sam said and disappeared. They took four years to complete. Most of which was inventing and perfecting the preceding tech to make them. Amazing what the human race can accomplish when they work together. You could see the ships hovering in the sky from the ground. They must have been massive up close. Huge Biospheres, fabricated in mere months by the Auto-builders. The media spin it off as "An ambitious project that would enter humanity to an new era of peace and prosperity." A little over a million of us, to navigate the stars and maybe even find humanities next earth. "Yeah, but which Million?" I asked the T.V "It will be soon, wont it?" Sue asked, holding little Bortimus in her arms. Who smiled at me, and held her arms out for me to come hug her. This is what it was all about. I felt their warmth. "Tomorrow is the day. They think the sun will explode in two weeks, and they'll want to be out of the solarsystem by then. But first, They'll draw the lottery, after all the powerful and rich have their seats. Sam's going to ensure that the remaining seats are filled with folk that, are on the whole, not nice people" "Arseholes? You're removing the arseholes from the world?" "Only the genuine Arseholes" "And how can we tell that?" "Algorythms! my sweet" I grab little Bort, Squeeze her and place her down to toddle off somewhere. "We shall dance tonight, Sue." She smiles. She loves to dance. The final shuttles are loaded and to a massive cheer that is heard across the world, The massive ships blink out of sight. Sound engulfs the earth, then vanishes into silence. The folk travel into the stars. The worst that humanity has to offer. Sue doesn't know that the ships will head straight into the sun. Nobody but me and Sam know that. Ironic really. There's a song and dance about it all. Its amazing how many high level jobs are going. Celebrities vanish, whole government buildings left empty. People mill about, the world spins on. Not an evangelist let on the earth. Six months have gone by. An A.I system has been put in place, as an interim while the new government is sorted out. People work about fifteen hours a week now, Because things are so much cheaper when nobody needs to profit, and everything is automated. Besides, nobody seems in a rush to put people back in charge, and the AI is in charge of resources. It all seems rather... fair. A year later, Art and culture flourishes. the wealth is redistributed. the roads give way to paths, the electricity towers are gone. The air is fresher. Nobody owes anything to anyone. People will refer to this time as "When humans found themselves." I find myself in a quiet, abandoned meeting point. Where a good man died, for us all. His face pops on the screen. "How you doin, Sam?" "I'm Ready Jack" "You were a good man, Bort. Sleep well" I return to my family waiting outside. "It's done" I say softly. "What do we do now?" Asks sue. "Whatever we feel like, Sue, That's the kind of world we just created."	As i watched the last of the “arks”, carrying the most pompous and self destructive members of our race escape the atmosphere, I wondered to myself whether or not the passengers were afraid, if they knew that they had caused both the worst damage to the planet’s biosphere and were now giving it its best hope by abandoning it. “Semantics”, I thought to myself as the detonators primed themselves. “Once they get past the moon, they’ll be gone permanently. Then, the real work can begin.” I told myself, preparing the demolition relay before returning to the lab. The others didn’t need to know. As far as they knew, the scientists that the rich hired were probably incompetent. They probably didn’t know that i designed the engines that powered those ships, with the failsafe to ensure OUR future. “Piezonucleic chambers ready for startup”, I hear through the intercoms as LEO, our AI scans through all systems. “Once the debris from their launch and .... Exit clear from the atmosphere, relay supplies to any survivors and refugees in range of a Surveillance satellite. I’m going to set up isotope farms near the basement.” A simple matter, I thought to myself as I suited up and descended into the bowels of this labyrinth. Planting these seeds for rare elements should produce results within 9-11 months, perfect for the rebuilding process. Hope, something I thought I had lost long ago, rises in my heart.
	[WP] You are part of a circle of scientists that have collaborated to fake the world into believing the sun was going supernova. As the generation ships carrying the rich, the flawed, the zealous, and the privileged leave Earth you decide its time to rebuild -the right way.	"How's everything going Albert?" "It's going wonderfully. The last ship just left. We were able to secure all passengers deemed useful before they left. Surface temperature is reaching 90 degrees around the planet and the streets are in panic. Should we begin lowering the world temperature now? We dont want too high of a death count." "I think not. Give it a day. Raise the temperature to 100. Make sure they really believe they're in danger before we save them." Finally after all these years my plans are finally coming to fruition. We've been working and planning for three decades now. My team hasn't even been able to sleep for two days. We had to make sure this entire plot goes off without a hitch. "And the announcement sir?" "Oh that's right. Its scheduled to happen right now. I was so tired I almost forgot. How about you go make some coffee for me so I dont fall asleep?" "Right away sir." I was hoping to get a nap in before we convene, but oh well. When creating a New World Order, you sometimes gotta make some personal sacrifices. As my butler began brewing his personal blend I walked myself to the meeting room. Everyone was sitting around a large semicircular table looking at a wall of televisions, but only the largest one in the center was on. They were all enjoying Albert's coffee since they too hadn't been sleeping for days. "Good evening gentlemen. I've been informed that everything was going smoothly." Hazel, my second in command, responded, "That's right sir. We were just about to watch the broadcast." She hit the remote and the large television changed to a major news channel." "This is Lara Henson with breaking news. We've just received word, only hours after the last launch that earth may have hope yet. A team of scientists have created a device that may stop the sun from going supernova. The only condition is that it requires a massive amount of power. A submission has already been sent to the UN for countries to pool together their resources. We have no official statement yet, but media leaks have already found countries preparing uranium for mass transfer. We may live to see next year everybody. Back to you Mike." There was a moment of silence and everyone broke into applause. "I can't believe it. We did it sir. We now have control of every major resource in the world and we even have the public under our fingertips. We can finally create a better world just like you always wanted." "Yes, I can finally create the world I've always wanted." As I turn my back I can hear bodies dropping to the floor. The poison finally kicked in. "Oh my God! What's happening." Hazel was the only one left screaming as she watched her friends drop one by one. "Tsk. Looks like I forgot your propensity for five hour energy over coffee. Silly me." "You? You did this?" "Yes." I say as I begin reaching for my pistol, "You see now I can rebuild the world into a better one, a world in my image where I will reign as a god." "You're mad!" "Sigh. You should've enjoyed the coffee while it lasted Hazel." Bang. At that moment, Albert stepped in. "I have your coffee ready sir. Did I miss anything important?" He says looking around the massecre. "Nothing particularly interesting" I said with a yawn, "Thank you for the coffee, but I think I'm gonna take a nap now. After all I won't get much time to rest when I'm busy ruling the world."	As i watched the last of the “arks”, carrying the most pompous and self destructive members of our race escape the atmosphere, I wondered to myself whether or not the passengers were afraid, if they knew that they had caused both the worst damage to the planet’s biosphere and were now giving it its best hope by abandoning it. “Semantics”, I thought to myself as the detonators primed themselves. “Once they get past the moon, they’ll be gone permanently. Then, the real work can begin.” I told myself, preparing the demolition relay before returning to the lab. The others didn’t need to know. As far as they knew, the scientists that the rich hired were probably incompetent. They probably didn’t know that i designed the engines that powered those ships, with the failsafe to ensure OUR future. “Piezonucleic chambers ready for startup”, I hear through the intercoms as LEO, our AI scans through all systems. “Once the debris from their launch and .... Exit clear from the atmosphere, relay supplies to any survivors and refugees in range of a Surveillance satellite. I’m going to set up isotope farms near the basement.” A simple matter, I thought to myself as I suited up and descended into the bowels of this labyrinth. Planting these seeds for rare elements should produce results within 9-11 months, perfect for the rebuilding process. Hope, something I thought I had lost long ago, rises in my heart.
	[WP] You are part of a circle of scientists that have collaborated to fake the world into believing the sun was going supernova. As the generation ships carrying the rich, the flawed, the zealous, and the privileged leave Earth you decide its time to rebuild -the right way.	Bill: "So they lied to us." Elon: "Surprised? I'd always heard that the sun wasn't the type that would go supernova. I figured it was a lie." Bill: "Why didn't you say something?" Elon: "Get real. Between the virtue signalers, the tax men, and those goddamned ETH scammers on Twitter, you can be sure they never really appreciated us anyway. Let them enjoy their stupid little utopia for as long as it lasts." Bill: "You seem awful bitter about it." Elon: "Aren't you? You tried with that foundation of yours and I wasn't exactly running Tesla and Solar City for the fun and profit of it. And they still wanted our hides purely because our bank accounts were bigger." Bill: "Okay, fair point. I wonder how long it'll be before they miss us." Elon: "Probably not long. The fortunes we pumped into these buckets were basically holding the economy together. Now they've got nothing."	They all distrusted me, and I don't blame them one bit. The Project Manager Professional - as I boldly spelled out in my LinkedIn moniker. I didn't really have the cert, mind you, who bothers with such things? But it looked good on the website, and it got me jobs, so hey. The ends justify the means, right? They hated everything about me. My colloquialisms, by design, were anything but refined. Y'all's and fixin' to's made me appear down to earth and believable. Well, in every job up until this one. These guys HATED it. They were all hand picked, one by one, because they were thought leaders in their fields, and radically leftist. The number of Ph.D's in the room outnumbered the people, even with me here. They believed in a better tomorrow, and knew it would take sacrifices. Big ones. Who was I to be among these intellectual and ethical giants? So when they got their letters, one thing was very clear: their families would be taken care of, handsomely. None would board the ships, even if they were above the thresholds. That was most important with the statisticians, who were so preoccupied with whether so and so might be above. They were guaranteed to be protected, should anything go wrong with the experiment. As the day approached for the generation ships to leave, several of them gave cause to the others for why I was needed on the team. I was on top of their attempts to break clean with the news, and swiftly put an end to any doubt that our plan would go forward. My solutions aren't always elegant, but they always have flare. The rest got the memo, and I think I finally earned their respect. It is a shame I earned their respect so late in the game, I actually started to like a few of them. Maybe I would have changed dinner plans for a few of them, but hey, revolution demands sacrifice. They were right to suspect nepotism about me I think - does it count as nepotism if you recruit yourself? In any case, as we watch the exhaust trails of the rockets, I do feel a bit of remorse for the short, painful lives my fellow scientists will live out. A better world awaits those of us who remain, and now that the wealthiest and most powerful of old have transferred all of what remains to me, I will have absolute power to right all of the wrongs of the old world, creating utopia. We shall start creating perfect equality for all soon, but first, I must have the proletariat begin work on the palace from which I will oversee perfection. Ooh, and a heated swimming pool. Should I build a jet or two as well? Just in case, you know...
	[WP] You are part of a circle of scientists that have collaborated to fake the world into believing the sun was going supernova. As the generation ships carrying the rich, the flawed, the zealous, and the privileged leave Earth you decide its time to rebuild -the right way.	His name was Bortimus Bucket. Short fellow, glasses, and wispy strands of hair that played and danced in the currents of static. And now very dead. Strapped to a bench and killed by us. The circle of seven. To the circle, the man was a hero. Humanities saviour. Willingly died to save us all. Like Jesus, but real. "Are you hearing me?" Asked Bort's Digitised voice. There was a round of amazed silence as the remaining six of us in the circle processed what just happened. The first human copied into cyberspace. "Y..Yes Bort, we hear you," Stammered Hilda, nearly knocking her tea everywhere. "How... do you feel?" "I... don't." He said softly. "It's nice" His face pops up on the screen. It looks sharper. He was always so nervous in human form. Bortimus had not had a good life. Evident in how fast he had volunteered to die. "Okay Bort..." I began. "He's dead. Please, call me Sam" "No problem Sam," I say, rolling with it. "Begin the operation" Sam disappears into cyberspace. And with those few words, my plan begins. Six people and a new form of life. Wordlessly the folk from the table stand and leave in silence. Academics. probably going home to study some more. "You okay Jack?" I hear Susan ask. She has lost even more weight, her coat hangs off her like a tarp. Her glasses perch on her gaunt face, hair unwashed and lank. The girl is smart, hell all the folks are here. "Fine and dandy Suzie Q," I respond. Actually, i'm better than that. I'm barely containing the fits of elation that run through me. How about we hit up a couple of drinks, and i take you dancing? Its taken five years to get to this point. We need to celebrate." "I can't dance, Jack" "The type of dancing i have in mind comes very naturally, Sue" "Uhhh..." She blushes and stammers. "No pressure, send me a text," I say, letting her off the hook with a shrug. A week passes. It's just amazing how little of anything is being said. The upper echelons of society have been supplied irrefutable evidence that in just five short years, the sun will explode. And there's not a whisper. The world spins along. I wish I could say I didn't know how this was going to go. But i do. I specialise in people, and people are so predictable. Six months go by. And the announcement of a new global initiative is dropped, much to the cheers and accolades of the world. Another two go by and the fusion reactor is invented. "Almost like there is massive resources being pooled into projects now." I say. Sue's asleep on my chest. She doesn't stir. Sams face appears on my wristwatch. I press answer. "Hey Sammy, how's it going?" "Unsure - but the project continues along." His voice possesses no rise and fall of intonation anymore. "They're just about to perfect Nanowoven silica." "And you've been helping them along?" "Yes, its not a difficult thing. Oh, and Jack. I will need you to end my program when this is done. Immortality does not appeal to me." I had been expecting this. Being human is a part of it all, only so long a man can be just a mind. "Already on it, old son, Got sue to whip me up a killcode in case you went ballistic" You can say these kinds of things to A.I. They're practical folk. "That will suffice." Sam said and disappeared. They took four years to complete. Most of which was inventing and perfecting the preceding tech to make them. Amazing what the human race can accomplish when they work together. You could see the ships hovering in the sky from the ground. They must have been massive up close. Huge Biospheres, fabricated in mere months by the Auto-builders. The media spin it off as "An ambitious project that would enter humanity to an new era of peace and prosperity." A little over a million of us, to navigate the stars and maybe even find humanities next earth. "Yeah, but which Million?" I asked the T.V "It will be soon, wont it?" Sue asked, holding little Bortimus in her arms. Who smiled at me, and held her arms out for me to come hug her. This is what it was all about. I felt their warmth. "Tomorrow is the day. They think the sun will explode in two weeks, and they'll want to be out of the solarsystem by then. But first, They'll draw the lottery, after all the powerful and rich have their seats. Sam's going to ensure that the remaining seats are filled with folk that, are on the whole, not nice people" "Arseholes? You're removing the arseholes from the world?" "Only the genuine Arseholes" "And how can we tell that?" "Algorythms! my sweet" I grab little Bort, Squeeze her and place her down to toddle off somewhere. "We shall dance tonight, Sue." She smiles. She loves to dance. The final shuttles are loaded and to a massive cheer that is heard across the world, The massive ships blink out of sight. Sound engulfs the earth, then vanishes into silence. The folk travel into the stars. The worst that humanity has to offer. Sue doesn't know that the ships will head straight into the sun. Nobody but me and Sam know that. Ironic really. There's a song and dance about it all. Its amazing how many high level jobs are going. Celebrities vanish, whole government buildings left empty. People mill about, the world spins on. Not an evangelist let on the earth. Six months have gone by. An A.I system has been put in place, as an interim while the new government is sorted out. People work about fifteen hours a week now, Because things are so much cheaper when nobody needs to profit, and everything is automated. Besides, nobody seems in a rush to put people back in charge, and the AI is in charge of resources. It all seems rather... fair. A year later, Art and culture flourishes. the wealth is redistributed. the roads give way to paths, the electricity towers are gone. The air is fresher. Nobody owes anything to anyone. People will refer to this time as "When humans found themselves." I find myself in a quiet, abandoned meeting point. Where a good man died, for us all. His face pops on the screen. "How you doin, Sam?" "I'm Ready Jack" "You were a good man, Bort. Sleep well" I return to my family waiting outside. "It's done" I say softly. "What do we do now?" Asks sue. "Whatever we feel like, Sue, That's the kind of world we just created."	They all distrusted me, and I don't blame them one bit. The Project Manager Professional - as I boldly spelled out in my LinkedIn moniker. I didn't really have the cert, mind you, who bothers with such things? But it looked good on the website, and it got me jobs, so hey. The ends justify the means, right? They hated everything about me. My colloquialisms, by design, were anything but refined. Y'all's and fixin' to's made me appear down to earth and believable. Well, in every job up until this one. These guys HATED it. They were all hand picked, one by one, because they were thought leaders in their fields, and radically leftist. The number of Ph.D's in the room outnumbered the people, even with me here. They believed in a better tomorrow, and knew it would take sacrifices. Big ones. Who was I to be among these intellectual and ethical giants? So when they got their letters, one thing was very clear: their families would be taken care of, handsomely. None would board the ships, even if they were above the thresholds. That was most important with the statisticians, who were so preoccupied with whether so and so might be above. They were guaranteed to be protected, should anything go wrong with the experiment. As the day approached for the generation ships to leave, several of them gave cause to the others for why I was needed on the team. I was on top of their attempts to break clean with the news, and swiftly put an end to any doubt that our plan would go forward. My solutions aren't always elegant, but they always have flare. The rest got the memo, and I think I finally earned their respect. It is a shame I earned their respect so late in the game, I actually started to like a few of them. Maybe I would have changed dinner plans for a few of them, but hey, revolution demands sacrifice. They were right to suspect nepotism about me I think - does it count as nepotism if you recruit yourself? In any case, as we watch the exhaust trails of the rockets, I do feel a bit of remorse for the short, painful lives my fellow scientists will live out. A better world awaits those of us who remain, and now that the wealthiest and most powerful of old have transferred all of what remains to me, I will have absolute power to right all of the wrongs of the old world, creating utopia. We shall start creating perfect equality for all soon, but first, I must have the proletariat begin work on the palace from which I will oversee perfection. Ooh, and a heated swimming pool. Should I build a jet or two as well? Just in case, you know...
	[WP] You are part of a circle of scientists that have collaborated to fake the world into believing the sun was going supernova. As the generation ships carrying the rich, the flawed, the zealous, and the privileged leave Earth you decide its time to rebuild -the right way.	"How's everything going Albert?" "It's going wonderfully. The last ship just left. We were able to secure all passengers deemed useful before they left. Surface temperature is reaching 90 degrees around the planet and the streets are in panic. Should we begin lowering the world temperature now? We dont want too high of a death count." "I think not. Give it a day. Raise the temperature to 100. Make sure they really believe they're in danger before we save them." Finally after all these years my plans are finally coming to fruition. We've been working and planning for three decades now. My team hasn't even been able to sleep for two days. We had to make sure this entire plot goes off without a hitch. "And the announcement sir?" "Oh that's right. Its scheduled to happen right now. I was so tired I almost forgot. How about you go make some coffee for me so I dont fall asleep?" "Right away sir." I was hoping to get a nap in before we convene, but oh well. When creating a New World Order, you sometimes gotta make some personal sacrifices. As my butler began brewing his personal blend I walked myself to the meeting room. Everyone was sitting around a large semicircular table looking at a wall of televisions, but only the largest one in the center was on. They were all enjoying Albert's coffee since they too hadn't been sleeping for days. "Good evening gentlemen. I've been informed that everything was going smoothly." Hazel, my second in command, responded, "That's right sir. We were just about to watch the broadcast." She hit the remote and the large television changed to a major news channel." "This is Lara Henson with breaking news. We've just received word, only hours after the last launch that earth may have hope yet. A team of scientists have created a device that may stop the sun from going supernova. The only condition is that it requires a massive amount of power. A submission has already been sent to the UN for countries to pool together their resources. We have no official statement yet, but media leaks have already found countries preparing uranium for mass transfer. We may live to see next year everybody. Back to you Mike." There was a moment of silence and everyone broke into applause. "I can't believe it. We did it sir. We now have control of every major resource in the world and we even have the public under our fingertips. We can finally create a better world just like you always wanted." "Yes, I can finally create the world I've always wanted." As I turn my back I can hear bodies dropping to the floor. The poison finally kicked in. "Oh my God! What's happening." Hazel was the only one left screaming as she watched her friends drop one by one. "Tsk. Looks like I forgot your propensity for five hour energy over coffee. Silly me." "You? You did this?" "Yes." I say as I begin reaching for my pistol, "You see now I can rebuild the world into a better one, a world in my image where I will reign as a god." "You're mad!" "Sigh. You should've enjoyed the coffee while it lasted Hazel." Bang. At that moment, Albert stepped in. "I have your coffee ready sir. Did I miss anything important?" He says looking around the massecre. "Nothing particularly interesting" I said with a yawn, "Thank you for the coffee, but I think I'm gonna take a nap now. After all I won't get much time to rest when I'm busy ruling the world."	They all distrusted me, and I don't blame them one bit. The Project Manager Professional - as I boldly spelled out in my LinkedIn moniker. I didn't really have the cert, mind you, who bothers with such things? But it looked good on the website, and it got me jobs, so hey. The ends justify the means, right? They hated everything about me. My colloquialisms, by design, were anything but refined. Y'all's and fixin' to's made me appear down to earth and believable. Well, in every job up until this one. These guys HATED it. They were all hand picked, one by one, because they were thought leaders in their fields, and radically leftist. The number of Ph.D's in the room outnumbered the people, even with me here. They believed in a better tomorrow, and knew it would take sacrifices. Big ones. Who was I to be among these intellectual and ethical giants? So when they got their letters, one thing was very clear: their families would be taken care of, handsomely. None would board the ships, even if they were above the thresholds. That was most important with the statisticians, who were so preoccupied with whether so and so might be above. They were guaranteed to be protected, should anything go wrong with the experiment. As the day approached for the generation ships to leave, several of them gave cause to the others for why I was needed on the team. I was on top of their attempts to break clean with the news, and swiftly put an end to any doubt that our plan would go forward. My solutions aren't always elegant, but they always have flare. The rest got the memo, and I think I finally earned their respect. It is a shame I earned their respect so late in the game, I actually started to like a few of them. Maybe I would have changed dinner plans for a few of them, but hey, revolution demands sacrifice. They were right to suspect nepotism about me I think - does it count as nepotism if you recruit yourself? In any case, as we watch the exhaust trails of the rockets, I do feel a bit of remorse for the short, painful lives my fellow scientists will live out. A better world awaits those of us who remain, and now that the wealthiest and most powerful of old have transferred all of what remains to me, I will have absolute power to right all of the wrongs of the old world, creating utopia. We shall start creating perfect equality for all soon, but first, I must have the proletariat begin work on the palace from which I will oversee perfection. Ooh, and a heated swimming pool. Should I build a jet or two as well? Just in case, you know...
	[WP] You are part of a circle of scientists that have collaborated to fake the world into believing the sun was going supernova. As the generation ships carrying the rich, the flawed, the zealous, and the privileged leave Earth you decide its time to rebuild -the right way.	"How's everything going Albert?" "It's going wonderfully. The last ship just left. We were able to secure all passengers deemed useful before they left. Surface temperature is reaching 90 degrees around the planet and the streets are in panic. Should we begin lowering the world temperature now? We dont want too high of a death count." "I think not. Give it a day. Raise the temperature to 100. Make sure they really believe they're in danger before we save them." Finally after all these years my plans are finally coming to fruition. We've been working and planning for three decades now. My team hasn't even been able to sleep for two days. We had to make sure this entire plot goes off without a hitch. "And the announcement sir?" "Oh that's right. Its scheduled to happen right now. I was so tired I almost forgot. How about you go make some coffee for me so I dont fall asleep?" "Right away sir." I was hoping to get a nap in before we convene, but oh well. When creating a New World Order, you sometimes gotta make some personal sacrifices. As my butler began brewing his personal blend I walked myself to the meeting room. Everyone was sitting around a large semicircular table looking at a wall of televisions, but only the largest one in the center was on. They were all enjoying Albert's coffee since they too hadn't been sleeping for days. "Good evening gentlemen. I've been informed that everything was going smoothly." Hazel, my second in command, responded, "That's right sir. We were just about to watch the broadcast." She hit the remote and the large television changed to a major news channel." "This is Lara Henson with breaking news. We've just received word, only hours after the last launch that earth may have hope yet. A team of scientists have created a device that may stop the sun from going supernova. The only condition is that it requires a massive amount of power. A submission has already been sent to the UN for countries to pool together their resources. We have no official statement yet, but media leaks have already found countries preparing uranium for mass transfer. We may live to see next year everybody. Back to you Mike." There was a moment of silence and everyone broke into applause. "I can't believe it. We did it sir. We now have control of every major resource in the world and we even have the public under our fingertips. We can finally create a better world just like you always wanted." "Yes, I can finally create the world I've always wanted." As I turn my back I can hear bodies dropping to the floor. The poison finally kicked in. "Oh my God! What's happening." Hazel was the only one left screaming as she watched her friends drop one by one. "Tsk. Looks like I forgot your propensity for five hour energy over coffee. Silly me." "You? You did this?" "Yes." I say as I begin reaching for my pistol, "You see now I can rebuild the world into a better one, a world in my image where I will reign as a god." "You're mad!" "Sigh. You should've enjoyed the coffee while it lasted Hazel." Bang. At that moment, Albert stepped in. "I have your coffee ready sir. Did I miss anything important?" He says looking around the massecre. "Nothing particularly interesting" I said with a yawn, "Thank you for the coffee, but I think I'm gonna take a nap now. After all I won't get much time to rest when I'm busy ruling the world."	Part 1: Loose Ends Jeff loosened the communications piece wrapped around his throat as his arched back quickly slumped into his chair. Sweat trickled through the wrinkles that crossed his face as the Dynar Collar wrapped tightly around his neck pulsated softly turning from a deep crimson red to soft pink. The wrinkles on his face eased slightly, as the collar returned to a cool pearl white. With a sigh he absentmindedly palmed his face and began tracing the wrinkles that remained, feeling the grooves and pushing away the sweat. "It's done. It's finally done. There's no turning back now. All these years we've hidden in plain sight..." he sighed deeply and looked around the room trying to regain his bearings as he stood up and grasped an empty bottle of scotch. "Damn, empty already." He unscrewed the top holding out his tongue in hopes of catching any remaining drops from the bottom. Jeff sat there cross eyed and feeling dumb as the liquid trickled towards the opening only to have diffused by the time it reached the neck. "Damn!" he exclaimed as he threw the bottle into the garbage bin and opened up his desk drawer rummaging through the papers and wires looking for a fresh bottle. Jeff let out a sigh of relief as his hands reached the bottom of the drawer and touched the cool glass surface. He groaned as he pulled out the bottle and murmmured with a laugh, "Half Empty or Half Full?" A mist of Scotch spittle flew from his lips as he jumped to his feet and slammed the bottle onto the table as he yelled into the empty room "Who fucking cares!" The room became unbearably silent as the dying rays of sunlight cast a pall within the room. Jeff took one last look around as he grabbed a slim white tablet from the desk and placed it into his pocket as he stumbled out to a waiting car. "Mr. Jeff?" asked a slim man with one hand loosely gripping the handle of a submachine gun slinged to a tactical vest. "You know it's me, Mike, why bother asking.", slurred Jeff as he stepped into the car, barely waiting for Mike to wave a free hand above the car's door sensor. Mike entered the car and sat opposite to Jeff as he activated the car's autonomous driving. The neighbourhood gate topped with razor wire slid open as the car moved out onto the road littered with debris. Mike gripped his gun with both hands as his eyes started scanning the clear road. Jeff looked back to see the two planters packed with bright pink flowers. He scoffed at the conscious effort to maintain normalcy at these end of days, which only provoked a growing sense of dread and aggression. For a man of Jeff's profession it was not entirely unusual to have an armed escort. More than once in the news there were scientists and Ark Members being accosted by those with poor sob stories hoping for a place on the Ark ships. More than once these seemingly helpless people would turn upon the scientist in anger tearing them into pieces. Jeff's eyes began tearing up as he pulled up a photo when he felt the communications piece vibrating the side of his skull signalling a voice call request. Clearing his throat Jeff tapped the side of this head, "Yes, Director? This is Jeff.". He could feel the Dynar Collar warming on his chest as it began analyzing the conversation. "Jeff, we have provided instructions to your car to the rendezvous. Your assistance with the Ark program has been invaluable and it will only be a moment longer for the decades of preparation to come into fruition." Jeff felt a slight burst of pain as the Collar briefly turned bright red. Mike glanced over catching the wince of pain in Jeff's face. "Apologies Jeff, these are wonderful times and you have earned this small token of our appreciation. We will see you in an hour." The communications device vibrated again as the Director disconnected and the Collar turned from pink to white then an unseen black. Jeff reached behind his neck and removed the Collar. His neck felt empty and cold exposed to the air. He could almost feel a slight longing after wearing the Collar for so many years. "Congratulations Jeff. I have never seen a Member have their Dynar Collar removed." Jeff nodded and grinned, shocking himself and Mike. "I guess it's been a heavy weight on us. All these years you have served Members and me. Have you ever wondered what exactly we have been up to all this time?" "No sir, I just get paid to keep you guys safe. That's enough for me." Mike hesitated for a moment eyeing Jeff and continued, "I've heard rumours though, nobody would ever confirm it to me. Is there enough time for us to escape? I know there aren't enough Ark ships available, but what happens to those left on the surface? The scientists are staying behind, but that doesn't make sense? Of all the people who need to make it out of here are probably the smart guys like you so we can start again out there." "So, you do have a brain after all. Dangerous questions, but you'll find out sooner or later. We've worked together for a couple years now and I think you can be trusted." Mike perked up, not expecting this alcoholic self-important scientst to trust him. "I need you to keep quiet about this." Mike nodded eagerly as his eyes turned from scanning the road to watch Jeff. "The Arks are real and we selected the lists, but we Scientists will be staying behind because..." Jeff's eyes suddenly flicked to the road. "Oh Shit!" Mike exclaimed as another vehicle slammed into their car, rolling it across the road. Mike's unrestrained body flew into the window crushing his neck into an awkward angle that turned his body limp. Jeff was securely strapped in, restraining him from the same fate as Mike, but he was still dazed with his neck and body burning. His vision dimmed as boots surrounded his upside down car.
	[WP] You are part of a circle of scientists that have collaborated to fake the world into believing the sun was going supernova. As the generation ships carrying the rich, the flawed, the zealous, and the privileged leave Earth you decide its time to rebuild -the right way.	"How's everything going Albert?" "It's going wonderfully. The last ship just left. We were able to secure all passengers deemed useful before they left. Surface temperature is reaching 90 degrees around the planet and the streets are in panic. Should we begin lowering the world temperature now? We dont want too high of a death count." "I think not. Give it a day. Raise the temperature to 100. Make sure they really believe they're in danger before we save them." Finally after all these years my plans are finally coming to fruition. We've been working and planning for three decades now. My team hasn't even been able to sleep for two days. We had to make sure this entire plot goes off without a hitch. "And the announcement sir?" "Oh that's right. Its scheduled to happen right now. I was so tired I almost forgot. How about you go make some coffee for me so I dont fall asleep?" "Right away sir." I was hoping to get a nap in before we convene, but oh well. When creating a New World Order, you sometimes gotta make some personal sacrifices. As my butler began brewing his personal blend I walked myself to the meeting room. Everyone was sitting around a large semicircular table looking at a wall of televisions, but only the largest one in the center was on. They were all enjoying Albert's coffee since they too hadn't been sleeping for days. "Good evening gentlemen. I've been informed that everything was going smoothly." Hazel, my second in command, responded, "That's right sir. We were just about to watch the broadcast." She hit the remote and the large television changed to a major news channel." "This is Lara Henson with breaking news. We've just received word, only hours after the last launch that earth may have hope yet. A team of scientists have created a device that may stop the sun from going supernova. The only condition is that it requires a massive amount of power. A submission has already been sent to the UN for countries to pool together their resources. We have no official statement yet, but media leaks have already found countries preparing uranium for mass transfer. We may live to see next year everybody. Back to you Mike." There was a moment of silence and everyone broke into applause. "I can't believe it. We did it sir. We now have control of every major resource in the world and we even have the public under our fingertips. We can finally create a better world just like you always wanted." "Yes, I can finally create the world I've always wanted." As I turn my back I can hear bodies dropping to the floor. The poison finally kicked in. "Oh my God! What's happening." Hazel was the only one left screaming as she watched her friends drop one by one. "Tsk. Looks like I forgot your propensity for five hour energy over coffee. Silly me." "You? You did this?" "Yes." I say as I begin reaching for my pistol, "You see now I can rebuild the world into a better one, a world in my image where I will reign as a god." "You're mad!" "Sigh. You should've enjoyed the coffee while it lasted Hazel." Bang. At that moment, Albert stepped in. "I have your coffee ready sir. Did I miss anything important?" He says looking around the massecre. "Nothing particularly interesting" I said with a yawn, "Thank you for the coffee, but I think I'm gonna take a nap now. After all I won't get much time to rest when I'm busy ruling the world."	Today was the conclusion of our sun plan. It was very simple to convince the masses to be perfectly honest; first we spread rumours through social media, copying the same method as we have used for other conspiracy theories in the past. After this we steadily dropped hints over time of it being true through various studies as we had only convinced the overly-paranoid and easily manipulated. Several celebrities started their own public dialogue and not only spread the word quicker to larger audiences but also started lucrative funding campaigns, this was a lovely surprise. That said, I did lose a bet to one of my colleagues who had predicted this. Our campaign continued, we ramped up the severity of the disaster with better, damning graphics to showcase the incoming calamity, and also how we were working hard to fix it. Now we send in the hook; we announced on worldwide platforms how the sun has been degenerating faster than expected and that we no longer had the time to reverse the situation. It's a great motivator you see, fear. Like switching on a light and watching the cockroaches run for cover; so too did the rich and the powerful. Massive colony ships were in demand in the highest quantities that they ever had been. People were panic buying as well, it didn't even seem to matter if the ships were fit for purpose, or even safe. Everyone had to flee, just like we foreseen. Of course, we played the valiant martyrs who would stay behind and attempt everything we could to the last minute. We were treated like gods, if only they knew. &#x200B; As I was saying, the sun plan has been completed today. The last ships carrying the higher ups of the world, the doctors, the lawyers, the highly intelligent and the hard workers have now left earth in our very capable hands. All that's left on earth are the dregs of society; the criminals, the murderers, the lazy, the stupid, the disabled and the mentally damaged. After the celebrations today we will be entering stage 2. The planetary weapons we received from the Americans and the dictatorships of the east have been programmed to shoot on sit any ships that enter a close enough range. I do like the comeuppance from that; the weapons they created because of their intolerance and fear of the Martian colonies is what will keep them from returning... in whole pieces anyways. Again, I'm off topic. Stage 2 is the most important opportunity for our species to develop that we've ever had; we have no more rules and regulations that were invented by the overly sensitive. Our experiments may seem like hell to those we work on, but it's for the best for the species. I doubt the deserters would even care too much seeing as they've committed to the idea to leave them to die anyways. Now we rebuild ourselves: No morals getting in the way of our work and as we control all major cities experiments, no morality is going to stop me
	[WP] You are part of a circle of scientists that have collaborated to fake the world into believing the sun was going supernova. As the generation ships carrying the rich, the flawed, the zealous, and the privileged leave Earth you decide its time to rebuild -the right way.	Most people don't remember but this is the fifth time I have seen this happen. It had not worked when we last tried it 2500 years ago and it will not work this time. How does it always come to this? People who believe that they can cleanly divide people into two camps: useless and useful, and get rid of the useless ones and everything will be fine. They think it would be that easy to distinguish, like it is something inextricably woven into their DNA or their personhood, when the criteria they use -- their own opinions -- is far from scientific. True, they do end up getting rid of a lot of problematic people, but more people are born, new divisions arise, and the cycle starts all over again. But that is humanity for you: they think they can solve their problems by getting rid of other people. They don't step back and look at themselves making the same mistakes as countless others had before them. They are so sure that they will make a difference, but they never do. Mark my words. This will not be the last ship.	They said that the world is going to end and the meteors will fall on earth and destroy humanity. A lot had happened and yet the world is still marvelous, the face of the earth is not broken but what broken was, humanity. Lies, grudges, addictions, gluttony, lust, greed, and pride had been eradicating human beings for the past 8 billion years. It all starts the same way and it ends the same way but one day when they decided to brought humanity to another planet by making the sun exploded on the screen of television. That's when I knew the circle that I was in, will be broken. &#x200B; "We are reporting live here from 857 city and it looks like the generation ships are ascending to the sky! Jon! We should get in! We're about to be left behind!" &#x200B; It was a news reporter, reporting a news to scared people. To make them leave the earth because the government said so. After knowing the truth from a homeless man, I decided to quit my job. The job that was supposed to bring humankind into peace and harmony through technology and the religion that is called science. Yes, I believe that science is a religion and it's not a subject after learning what's wrong and what's not. &#x200B; The sun was illuminating brightly in the empty sky even after all of the ships left the earth, creating chaos and suffering to the ones who were left behind. The only people that was left on earth was like a grain of salt, little but big in size. The skyscrapers, the hotels, the central building were all stood still between the empty spaces of the city as I standing on the top of the podium near the bank. &#x200B; "So, here I am, standing in front of all of you. The Left Behinds. Wait-"I coughed as I was standing on the podium, "Since all of the rich, the flawed, the zealous, and the privileged have left the earth and we decided to stay, I shall give a new rule. Starting with labels. We are not The Left Behinds and we each have our own names! SO, feel free to call someone without labeling who they are professionally or in general." &#x200B; "Who gave you the rights to become a leader or a president?! We don't even know you!" &#x200B; "YES you do! We probably don't know each other through names, age, colors, culture, and so on! But, what we do have in common is, our blood. It's thicker than water, connecting all of us and it's red color, reminding us we're all are the same inside. I'm not a leader or a president. I'm not here to lead all of you. I'm here because we are here for all of us. To help each other and rebuild mankind!" "Then, tell us what to do when the supernova explodes! Stupid bitch!" "She's trying so hard to become the next Socrates with her fake thoughts and stuff!!! Lame! Let's go somewhere else!" &#x200B; As I was about to speak again, a hand pat on my shoulder and I turned around and screamed &#x200B;
	[WP] You are part of a circle of scientists that have collaborated to fake the world into believing the sun was going supernova. As the generation ships carrying the rich, the flawed, the zealous, and the privileged leave Earth you decide its time to rebuild -the right way.	I lay alone, hungover, on the street corner. I have been like this for years. I’m an old man, and a hungry one at that. I look for what I have looked for for the last 30 years: an improvement. I look for the increase in people that are kind to each other. I look for the numbers, the statistics, that tell me I made the right decision, that I made humanity a much better place. Like always, I see nothing that gives me such hope. Ironically, that’s what sent me into depression and alcoholism in the first place. God, I don’t even know how long I’ve been like this. All I know is that it wasn’t long after the Launch that I sank to where I am now. I was celebrating, at first. I remember leaning back in my chair, and thinking of how easy it was. I was a scientist tasked to convince the people of Earth that the sun was going supernova. The plan was to convince the rich, powerful, and greedy to leave of their own accord, to venture off the planet, and to leave the world to the poor, charitable, and kind. The plan worked perfectly, with a few small sacrifices. Sacrifices. I hate that word. I despise, I loathe it with every fiber of my being. Of course, the sacrifice that stands out to everyone was that of of the Launch itself. You can’t send a population of billions to Alpha Centauri. It isn’t possible, and even if it was, there is likely no habitable planet there. No, everyone of the rich and corrupt is dead by now. They starved, suffocated, or died of radiation poisoning long ago. Billions. I open up a bottle of whiskey I had been trying to save for a week, and take my first swig of the morning. Sacrifice. Of course it was necessary to make the world a better place. Then, of course, there was the sacrifice of the families. Of course they weren’t going to leave their families behind. Of course the ship was filled with as many children as adults. In fact, the rich bastards often sacrificed their spot for a poor family, or bribed the officials into letting an entire community of the destitute and forgotten onboard. It’s their goddamn fault, those fucking corrupt assholes. They ruined the plan, not me. The blood of the poor people on that ship is on their hands, not mine. But I cannot say the same for the blood of those on Earth. I should have seen it coming, that any astrophysicist on the planet would argue with my findings. I should have seen that anyone who has taken an astrophysics class would know that the sun simply cannot go supernova for millions of years. Why I thought of this too late, I don’t know. But the scientists had to be dealt with, and the cause had to live on. It was as if I pulled the trigger on hundreds of thousands of the educated myself, rich and poor alike. Sacrifices. Then there were the rich who stayed on Earth. In a way, you could say that death by bullets and knives is a better death than being lost in space. It was too merciful, in my opinion. They should have been forced to get on board and die with their greedy kind. ————— The moment I myself announced to the world our plan is easily the worst moment of my life. I expected it to be the best, but the memory of it fills me with such dread, that to even approach the subject, I have to start chugging my alcohol. I remember it so vividly. I was broadcasted live to almost every TV on the planet. I was watched by millions of the impoverished, weakened, and exploited. They were all that was left, and I told them what had become of the rich in such a vigorous speech, I half expected the stadium I was in to erupt in an applause never heard before. Instead, I heard silence. Pure silence, and with it, I could almost hear my heart sinking to the ground. And then one woman stood. She was close enough for me to hear her say, so devoid of intellect, and so clearly a result of brainwashing by the elite: “This is no different from Rwanda.” I remember that feeling that I had never felt before, the one that I feel all the time now. The curious mix of adrenaline and testosterone that is rage. Her blood is definitely on my hands, because I shot her where she stood. I barely made it out of the stadium alive. And now here I sit, watching the world, waiting to see if what I did was worth it. But all I see is the fucking greed, the callousness, the lies I saw before. There was new power, new money, new corruption. I can’t help but feel that I did all of that for nothing. No. I must continue to hope. I must hope that the deaths I caused were not in vain. I must hope that I killed off the evil of the world, that this evil isn’t inherent in every single one of us. I singlehandedly killed the rich, and I should be proud. Yet somehow I’m not. ****** Please let me know what you think, I’m trying to get into writing and I’m really new!	They said that the world is going to end and the meteors will fall on earth and destroy humanity. A lot had happened and yet the world is still marvelous, the face of the earth is not broken but what broken was, humanity. Lies, grudges, addictions, gluttony, lust, greed, and pride had been eradicating human beings for the past 8 billion years. It all starts the same way and it ends the same way but one day when they decided to brought humanity to another planet by making the sun exploded on the screen of television. That's when I knew the circle that I was in, will be broken. &#x200B; "We are reporting live here from 857 city and it looks like the generation ships are ascending to the sky! Jon! We should get in! We're about to be left behind!" &#x200B; It was a news reporter, reporting a news to scared people. To make them leave the earth because the government said so. After knowing the truth from a homeless man, I decided to quit my job. The job that was supposed to bring humankind into peace and harmony through technology and the religion that is called science. Yes, I believe that science is a religion and it's not a subject after learning what's wrong and what's not. &#x200B; The sun was illuminating brightly in the empty sky even after all of the ships left the earth, creating chaos and suffering to the ones who were left behind. The only people that was left on earth was like a grain of salt, little but big in size. The skyscrapers, the hotels, the central building were all stood still between the empty spaces of the city as I standing on the top of the podium near the bank. &#x200B; "So, here I am, standing in front of all of you. The Left Behinds. Wait-"I coughed as I was standing on the podium, "Since all of the rich, the flawed, the zealous, and the privileged have left the earth and we decided to stay, I shall give a new rule. Starting with labels. We are not The Left Behinds and we each have our own names! SO, feel free to call someone without labeling who they are professionally or in general." &#x200B; "Who gave you the rights to become a leader or a president?! We don't even know you!" &#x200B; "YES you do! We probably don't know each other through names, age, colors, culture, and so on! But, what we do have in common is, our blood. It's thicker than water, connecting all of us and it's red color, reminding us we're all are the same inside. I'm not a leader or a president. I'm not here to lead all of you. I'm here because we are here for all of us. To help each other and rebuild mankind!" "Then, tell us what to do when the supernova explodes! Stupid bitch!" "She's trying so hard to become the next Socrates with her fake thoughts and stuff!!! Lame! Let's go somewhere else!" &#x200B; As I was about to speak again, a hand pat on my shoulder and I turned around and screamed &#x200B;
	[WP] You are part of a circle of scientists that have collaborated to fake the world into believing the sun was going supernova. As the generation ships carrying the rich, the flawed, the zealous, and the privileged leave Earth you decide its time to rebuild -the right way.	I remember the glaring lights on my face, replacing the millions of faces who could see mine. I was nervous, naturally. This might well end up being the most important interview in the history of mankind. The jury is still out on that. I didn’t really have time to be nervous, though. Next to me, my subject seemed- not just calm, but down right placid. Knowing what this man had done, had proven himself capable of, I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised. What was a world-wide exclusive interview next to saving the world? My director’s hand went up signalling the countdown to live. The countdown helped me focus, and I centered my eyes on the red light, just able to read the words below. He reached 2 and 1 in silence, then let me loose. “Good evening, world. For those of you just joining us for the first time since Zero Hour, My name is Darien Cole. Tonight’s lead story is the much-anticipated interview with Graham Buckner, the face behind what’s being called the greatest prank of all time. He is live in the studio with me. “Before we begin, however: a few updates. We have received word that our repeating centers in Johannesburg, Pyongyang, Sydney, and Buenos Aires are green across the board. I’d like to say welcome to our friends and viewers in Argentina, Australia, North Korea, and South Africa. “Carbon emissions are falling around the globe. Lead scientists agree that we will fall within acceptable limits within the decade, just two years shy of the deadline. “Reconstruction efforts are in full swing worldwide, with teams being sent into the most remote regions imaginable, seeking out survivalists and doomsday preppers, hoping to bring them into the fold. “A team of researchers from California broke the news today that bees are recovering in all surveyed sectors- signs of colony collapse are receding, and more and more hives are being reintroduced across temperate zones. This is also great news for bats, how have struggled in recent years. The team says that with increased pollination, there will be a surge in insect populations that will be a great boon to bats, who provide a potent control on the insects. “For the first time, mosquitoes will not be part of that surge- efforts to extinguish the parasitic insects by rendering them impotent are having a more drastic effect than anticipated. Ecologists expect little to no impact to anyone.” I gave them a confident smile. “Anyone, anywhere, ever. Good news indeed. “We will have more details on these and other stories after the lead. Now I would like to say first of all, welcome to Mr. Buckner.” I gestured to my left, and the lights rose on Graham’s rather unimposing figure. Seeing him on the street, one might think he was a professor of something obscure and esoteric, like philosophy. He had a thick head of graying hair, a full beard, and half-rim glasses covering gray-green eyes. He wore a plain shirt under a corduroy jacket, complete with leather patched on the elbows, and his hand were clasped comfortably across a comfortable belly. It was a perfectly crafted affect, as were all his dealings with other people. His voice was even, as calm as his exterior. It was low and warm- a well-loved college professor. “Please, Darien, call me Graham. It is an honor to be here.” “And it is an honor to have you, Graham. It must have taken some juggling to free up your schedule to meet with us.” “Not really. To be honest, I’m not up to a great deal anymore. I have often found that when you find the right people and give them the right tools, the right thing will be done. People, in truth, need very little management to do the right thing. It comes very naturally to us.” “Then what are you doing these, days, if I may ask?” “Consulting, largely. That’s what pays my bills, so to speak. I write a great deal. Some philosophy, but I wonder if the world hasn’t had quite enough of that. I like fiction. Those are the really fun stories to tell.” “Any idea when your writings will be published?” “Truthfully, no. I haven’t bothered to find an agent. Though I do find myself in the enviable position of being certain that when I am ready, the market will be there.” “A writer’s dream, I suppose?” “Absolutely.” “To the subject at hand- my first question for you. What was it like for you as we approached Zero Hour? Those last minutes before revealing not just your face, but what you’d done- what were those like for you?” “Nerve-wracking, in a word. I was violently ill the morning of, in fact. Couldn’t keep anything down.” “That seems unlike you, if I’m being honest.” “I have years of practice speaking in front of groups of different sizes, some friendly and many hostile. My ability to handle an audience is a very crafty coverup of my personal anxiety. Even now, in the interest of fairness, there is some trepidation over my words being broadcast globally.” “Yet you are here.” “Anxiety is an expression of fear in the mind. It is a signal- nothing more- that there are high stakes before you. That you have skin in the game; something to lose. Beyond that, if the reward outweighs the risk, fear is just noise. Whatever emotions I may have about this, it is necessary. So yes, I am here.” “What else can you tell us about that countdown?” “There was a lot of self-doubt. A lot of wondering if I was doing the right thing. How it would be perceived by the world at large. But at that point, it was too late to stop- the ships had already departed. And then I remembered something, something that had inspired and driven me from the inception of my idea.” “Which was?” “That the very problem I was trying to solve was in fact the source of my anxiety, and the voices that would be most likely to cry foul had been silenced. Also- and this is key- that I have far more in common with my neighbors than I have been led to believe. In that moment, I simply had faith. My stomach calmed, and I was able to address the world as I had planned.” “It seems odd that a man who has acted so decisively against religion would talk about faith.” “Faith gets a bad rap, in my opinion. The act of having faith is simply trusting in your beliefs. There is no particular association with what one believes in other than long-standing tradition. The act of driving down the road requires a certain faith that your fellow drivers will obey the same rules you do, otherwise fear would paralyze us all. Faith, in the absence of knowledge, is the antidote to fear. I couldn’t know how I would be received, but I had faith. That allowed me to continue.” “What, then, was the start of all this? Where did the idea come from? The whole...illusion, if you will.” “Oddly enough, a Reddit post. There was a writing prompt that I have long since forgotten, but it did remind me of a quote by Diderot: ‘And his hands would plait the priest’s entrails for want of a rope to strangle kings.’ It means simply that mankind could never be free while there are men who seek to dominate them.” “That’s a gory image.” “France, around the time of the Revolution, was an exceptionally bloody place. We all saw, historically, what happened to Robespierre, however sympathetic to his original cause we may be.” “So you sought another way?” “I did. I can’t deny the thought of violence was never far from my mind. I remembered, though that we had been given a gift in the disastrous regime of 45 and other right-wing populists across the world.” “A gift?” “From a certain perspective. I will not deny that those years were heartbreaking and tragic on a daily basis, nor to undermine anyone’s right to trauma in those days. But in that fear, these men had taught us how to defeat them.” “How is that?” “Fear.” There came a moment of dead air, as if that answer was self-evident. (Part 2 in child comment)	They said that the world is going to end and the meteors will fall on earth and destroy humanity. A lot had happened and yet the world is still marvelous, the face of the earth is not broken but what broken was, humanity. Lies, grudges, addictions, gluttony, lust, greed, and pride had been eradicating human beings for the past 8 billion years. It all starts the same way and it ends the same way but one day when they decided to brought humanity to another planet by making the sun exploded on the screen of television. That's when I knew the circle that I was in, will be broken. &#x200B; "We are reporting live here from 857 city and it looks like the generation ships are ascending to the sky! Jon! We should get in! We're about to be left behind!" &#x200B; It was a news reporter, reporting a news to scared people. To make them leave the earth because the government said so. After knowing the truth from a homeless man, I decided to quit my job. The job that was supposed to bring humankind into peace and harmony through technology and the religion that is called science. Yes, I believe that science is a religion and it's not a subject after learning what's wrong and what's not. &#x200B; The sun was illuminating brightly in the empty sky even after all of the ships left the earth, creating chaos and suffering to the ones who were left behind. The only people that was left on earth was like a grain of salt, little but big in size. The skyscrapers, the hotels, the central building were all stood still between the empty spaces of the city as I standing on the top of the podium near the bank. &#x200B; "So, here I am, standing in front of all of you. The Left Behinds. Wait-"I coughed as I was standing on the podium, "Since all of the rich, the flawed, the zealous, and the privileged have left the earth and we decided to stay, I shall give a new rule. Starting with labels. We are not The Left Behinds and we each have our own names! SO, feel free to call someone without labeling who they are professionally or in general." &#x200B; "Who gave you the rights to become a leader or a president?! We don't even know you!" &#x200B; "YES you do! We probably don't know each other through names, age, colors, culture, and so on! But, what we do have in common is, our blood. It's thicker than water, connecting all of us and it's red color, reminding us we're all are the same inside. I'm not a leader or a president. I'm not here to lead all of you. I'm here because we are here for all of us. To help each other and rebuild mankind!" "Then, tell us what to do when the supernova explodes! Stupid bitch!" "She's trying so hard to become the next Socrates with her fake thoughts and stuff!!! Lame! Let's go somewhere else!" &#x200B; As I was about to speak again, a hand pat on my shoulder and I turned around and screamed &#x200B;
	[WP] You are part of a circle of scientists that have collaborated to fake the world into believing the sun was going supernova. As the generation ships carrying the rich, the flawed, the zealous, and the privileged leave Earth you decide its time to rebuild -the right way.	The world has become a barren world. The plan has backfired. With several generations believing the world was coming to an end. Environmental concerns evaporated as quickly as the world economies. over 99% of the worlds species have become extinct. Shortly after the announcement that the world was coming to an end, world war 3 started. Some say it was the Americans, others say it was China, no one really knows any more, all we know is that no one won. The deadline for the world to end has come and gone but no one even realized. Only small groups of nomads exist foraging the desolate planet just trying to survive.	They said that the world is going to end and the meteors will fall on earth and destroy humanity. A lot had happened and yet the world is still marvelous, the face of the earth is not broken but what broken was, humanity. Lies, grudges, addictions, gluttony, lust, greed, and pride had been eradicating human beings for the past 8 billion years. It all starts the same way and it ends the same way but one day when they decided to brought humanity to another planet by making the sun exploded on the screen of television. That's when I knew the circle that I was in, will be broken. &#x200B; "We are reporting live here from 857 city and it looks like the generation ships are ascending to the sky! Jon! We should get in! We're about to be left behind!" &#x200B; It was a news reporter, reporting a news to scared people. To make them leave the earth because the government said so. After knowing the truth from a homeless man, I decided to quit my job. The job that was supposed to bring humankind into peace and harmony through technology and the religion that is called science. Yes, I believe that science is a religion and it's not a subject after learning what's wrong and what's not. &#x200B; The sun was illuminating brightly in the empty sky even after all of the ships left the earth, creating chaos and suffering to the ones who were left behind. The only people that was left on earth was like a grain of salt, little but big in size. The skyscrapers, the hotels, the central building were all stood still between the empty spaces of the city as I standing on the top of the podium near the bank. &#x200B; "So, here I am, standing in front of all of you. The Left Behinds. Wait-"I coughed as I was standing on the podium, "Since all of the rich, the flawed, the zealous, and the privileged have left the earth and we decided to stay, I shall give a new rule. Starting with labels. We are not The Left Behinds and we each have our own names! SO, feel free to call someone without labeling who they are professionally or in general." &#x200B; "Who gave you the rights to become a leader or a president?! We don't even know you!" &#x200B; "YES you do! We probably don't know each other through names, age, colors, culture, and so on! But, what we do have in common is, our blood. It's thicker than water, connecting all of us and it's red color, reminding us we're all are the same inside. I'm not a leader or a president. I'm not here to lead all of you. I'm here because we are here for all of us. To help each other and rebuild mankind!" "Then, tell us what to do when the supernova explodes! Stupid bitch!" "She's trying so hard to become the next Socrates with her fake thoughts and stuff!!! Lame! Let's go somewhere else!" &#x200B; As I was about to speak again, a hand pat on my shoulder and I turned around and screamed &#x200B;
	[WP] You are part of a circle of scientists that have collaborated to fake the world into believing the sun was going supernova. As the generation ships carrying the rich, the flawed, the zealous, and the privileged leave Earth you decide its time to rebuild -the right way.	The last ship sailed away into the night, black sky swallowing the vessel in a ocean of stars. I popped a potato chip into my mouth, savoring the salt on my lips as the last of Earth’s problems left the atmosphere. “You ready?” Kayla asked. She was standing behind me, even taller than usual in heels. “Ready.” I brushed potato-chip dust off my jeans as I stood. I lingered a brief moment on the edge of that roof contemplating the new world stretched out before us. I turned to Kayla and grinned. “Woah, I’ve never seen you do that before,” she said, dark eyebrows arched. “We’ve done it. We...we can rebuild.” I was seized by a sudden fevered excitement. “It’s all going to be so much better.” My palms were sweaty and my heart raced. I pushed past Kayla and yanked open the door to our offices down below. Beakers, wires, research had been my world for so long to bring this about. I stepped down in front of a green-screen, Kayla standing off to the right with a lit cigarette, Rodger spinning the camera equipment, pointing it at me. There were people here in this very room who didn’t know. My excitement was climbing and I wanted to shed my skin. I was vibrating with good news. I smiled as Rodger counted down. We would be broadcasting live to every screen and every radio across the globe, presumably to tell everyone they were most definitely toast. We’d been “keeping morale up” by saying there was research being done to prevent the giant catastrophe that would end Earth, but people hadn’t bought it. The riots were a sad side effect. I don’t blame Rodger for eyeing me oddly when he thought I was about to tell everyone they were going to die with a smile on my face. “Hello, everyone,” I said as soon as we went live. “I have great news. The world is no longer going to end.” Rodger’s jaw dropped open and he angled the camera slightly down in shock. I frowned, jerking impatiently for him to right it. He did, snapping his mouth shut, and I continued, “The last ship has left Earth containing the rich who ran this world behind the scenes, sadly their radio equipment was damaged,” I couldn’t contain my wide smile. Kayla’s cigarette lit cherry-red in the corner of my vision. “They won’t be able to come back, and we have an opportunity, a responsibility to rebuild!” Rodger let the camera drop again. I was beginning to get angry. I gestured for him to right it, but he was looking at me with an expression of disgust on his face. I recoiled slightly. “It sounds like you knew the world wasn’t going to end,” he said clearly, his voice carrying over the office, silencing the murmurs that I hadn’t realized had erupted with my announcement. Now it was deadly quiet. “Well...” I said, floundering a bit. He seemed mad. In fact a lot of people in the room seemed to be exhibiting feelings other than joy. One girl was crying. “Yes,” I finally answered defensively. Rodger took a step forward that was threatening. I gestured to Kayla. “We both did.” Now eyes turned to her and it was a relief to have them off me. Slowly she took a drag, dropped her cigarette, and crushed it beneath her toe. “I found out today,” she said softly, in a very un-Kayla-like voice. It even cracked a little. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t say anything...” “What are you talking about?” I asked her incredulously. “You’ve known from the beginning and...” I looked around at all the horror-stricken faces. “Why are all of you upset? There was serious puppeteering going on behind the political scene. This is our chance to start anew! Those people are gone, but it’s not like I killed them. They’re going to their own habitable planet where-” “Millions of people are dead!” Rodger yelled over me. I blinked, confused. “You’ve been sitting here in your laboratory doing God knows what, now that we know you weren’t working on a solution, but outside...” he looked sickened. “We didn’t tell the scientists because we wanted you to be focused, to be working,” his voice was now low, dangerous. I shifted my eyes from him to the people around the room. I saw not one sympathetic face there. “My sister killed herself,” a girl whispered, her voice carrying in the silence. “She didn’t want to face the end of the world, so she killed herself.” “I tried heroine,” another voice sounded nearby, quietly. “I thought there wasn’t a point...” “I fucked twenty different people in one night! Allah knows what diseases I’ve got.” “My grandmother was shot then trampled in a riot.” The confessions kept coming, washing over me in a horrifying wave. How was this true? How had I not seen it coming? My mom had always said I wasn’t good with people, but was I really this stupid? This clueless? My knees weakened, and I wanted to scream at Rodger, at all of them, but they were right. I collapsed under the weight of their words, their pain. “Enough!” came a clear, commanding voice over the swell of confessions. I barely looked up to see it was Kayla who’d spoken. All eyes turned to her, the young woman who’d spoken about her sister looked on with her arms crossed. Rodger glared her down. That was something else that hadn’t made sense. Why had Kayla lied? Surely if anyone could have seen this coming, it was her. She was the human part of me, the empathetic half of my brain. “Clearly, there has been a miscarriage of justice here,” she said smoothly. Heads nodded through the crowd. “But that doesn’t mean there needs to be more injustice tomorrow. This man,” she placed a hand on my shoulder, “WILL be punished. But, the rest of the world doesn’t need to fall into ruin because of one man’s mistake. This can’t be the next Eden. We have the opportunity to build a future that we can be proud of. To start again without the behind-doors politics, without bribery and corruption. Don’t let this deception,” she spat out the word and looked down on me like she’d like to spit on me as well, “wreak humanity’s future.” Her eyes carried out into the crowd. There was always something about Kayla, something magnetic and seemingly good. I noticed Rodger was looking determined, optimistic. The girl who’d been regarding her cooly, with crosses arms, now buried her face in her friend’s shirt, sobbing. When she looked up though, even she seemed caught by Kayla’s spell. And so I did watch the new society I’d dreamed of. Seemingly egalitarian, seemingly fair, seemingly good. Only I knew the truth. Kayla had planned this. She’d sacrificed those first lives for the “greater good.” For power. Her face was plastered on every street on every corner: the Leader of the New World Order. There were of course different factions and political groups that rose against her, but her benevolent dictatorship marched on, a conquering Alexander the Great. No one would listen to me, or maybe no one cared. I’d taken everything from them - structure, stability, familiar oppression, even if it was oppression, was still familiar. No one wanted to listen to the man on the other side of prison bars, so no one did.	They said that the world is going to end and the meteors will fall on earth and destroy humanity. A lot had happened and yet the world is still marvelous, the face of the earth is not broken but what broken was, humanity. Lies, grudges, addictions, gluttony, lust, greed, and pride had been eradicating human beings for the past 8 billion years. It all starts the same way and it ends the same way but one day when they decided to brought humanity to another planet by making the sun exploded on the screen of television. That's when I knew the circle that I was in, will be broken. &#x200B; "We are reporting live here from 857 city and it looks like the generation ships are ascending to the sky! Jon! We should get in! We're about to be left behind!" &#x200B; It was a news reporter, reporting a news to scared people. To make them leave the earth because the government said so. After knowing the truth from a homeless man, I decided to quit my job. The job that was supposed to bring humankind into peace and harmony through technology and the religion that is called science. Yes, I believe that science is a religion and it's not a subject after learning what's wrong and what's not. &#x200B; The sun was illuminating brightly in the empty sky even after all of the ships left the earth, creating chaos and suffering to the ones who were left behind. The only people that was left on earth was like a grain of salt, little but big in size. The skyscrapers, the hotels, the central building were all stood still between the empty spaces of the city as I standing on the top of the podium near the bank. &#x200B; "So, here I am, standing in front of all of you. The Left Behinds. Wait-"I coughed as I was standing on the podium, "Since all of the rich, the flawed, the zealous, and the privileged have left the earth and we decided to stay, I shall give a new rule. Starting with labels. We are not The Left Behinds and we each have our own names! SO, feel free to call someone without labeling who they are professionally or in general." &#x200B; "Who gave you the rights to become a leader or a president?! We don't even know you!" &#x200B; "YES you do! We probably don't know each other through names, age, colors, culture, and so on! But, what we do have in common is, our blood. It's thicker than water, connecting all of us and it's red color, reminding us we're all are the same inside. I'm not a leader or a president. I'm not here to lead all of you. I'm here because we are here for all of us. To help each other and rebuild mankind!" "Then, tell us what to do when the supernova explodes! Stupid bitch!" "She's trying so hard to become the next Socrates with her fake thoughts and stuff!!! Lame! Let's go somewhere else!" &#x200B; As I was about to speak again, a hand pat on my shoulder and I turned around and screamed &#x200B;
	[WP] You are part of a circle of scientists that have collaborated to fake the world into believing the sun was going supernova. As the generation ships carrying the rich, the flawed, the zealous, and the privileged leave Earth you decide its time to rebuild -the right way.	Marvin drives up to a camp fire on the beach and parks. Getting out of his car he sees his colleague Howard. Approaching the fire he says, " I thought I would find you he". Howard interrupts, "we're all doomed you know". Marvin replies, "how so?" "We did too good of a job on the ships", Howard says while pointing at them traversing the Moon. "We had to do it all properly for the ruse to work. They'll actually make it to Alpha Centauri and be able to thrive. Sometime along the way, they'll see that the sun did not go super nova. Realizing that they've all been exiled from the earth. A culture of resentment and hostility towards those that sent them will develop." "And?", Marvin says. "They'll come back and exact their vengeance upon us I imagine", Howard lamented. "It won't happen for thousands of years, but that is thousands of years for them to stew in space and on a hostile foreign world". Marvin pulling a beer from a cooler and tossing it to Howard, raises his own and toasts, "then here is to hope. Hope that we're all better people in the year 4000."	They said that the world is going to end and the meteors will fall on earth and destroy humanity. A lot had happened and yet the world is still marvelous, the face of the earth is not broken but what broken was, humanity. Lies, grudges, addictions, gluttony, lust, greed, and pride had been eradicating human beings for the past 8 billion years. It all starts the same way and it ends the same way but one day when they decided to brought humanity to another planet by making the sun exploded on the screen of television. That's when I knew the circle that I was in, will be broken. &#x200B; "We are reporting live here from 857 city and it looks like the generation ships are ascending to the sky! Jon! We should get in! We're about to be left behind!" &#x200B; It was a news reporter, reporting a news to scared people. To make them leave the earth because the government said so. After knowing the truth from a homeless man, I decided to quit my job. The job that was supposed to bring humankind into peace and harmony through technology and the religion that is called science. Yes, I believe that science is a religion and it's not a subject after learning what's wrong and what's not. &#x200B; The sun was illuminating brightly in the empty sky even after all of the ships left the earth, creating chaos and suffering to the ones who were left behind. The only people that was left on earth was like a grain of salt, little but big in size. The skyscrapers, the hotels, the central building were all stood still between the empty spaces of the city as I standing on the top of the podium near the bank. &#x200B; "So, here I am, standing in front of all of you. The Left Behinds. Wait-"I coughed as I was standing on the podium, "Since all of the rich, the flawed, the zealous, and the privileged have left the earth and we decided to stay, I shall give a new rule. Starting with labels. We are not The Left Behinds and we each have our own names! SO, feel free to call someone without labeling who they are professionally or in general." &#x200B; "Who gave you the rights to become a leader or a president?! We don't even know you!" &#x200B; "YES you do! We probably don't know each other through names, age, colors, culture, and so on! But, what we do have in common is, our blood. It's thicker than water, connecting all of us and it's red color, reminding us we're all are the same inside. I'm not a leader or a president. I'm not here to lead all of you. I'm here because we are here for all of us. To help each other and rebuild mankind!" "Then, tell us what to do when the supernova explodes! Stupid bitch!" "She's trying so hard to become the next Socrates with her fake thoughts and stuff!!! Lame! Let's go somewhere else!" &#x200B; As I was about to speak again, a hand pat on my shoulder and I turned around and screamed &#x200B;
	[WP] You are part of a circle of scientists that have collaborated to fake the world into believing the sun was going supernova. As the generation ships carrying the rich, the flawed, the zealous, and the privileged leave Earth you decide its time to rebuild -the right way.	I lay alone, hungover, on the street corner. I have been like this for years. I’m an old man, and a hungry one at that. I look for what I have looked for for the last 30 years: an improvement. I look for the increase in people that are kind to each other. I look for the numbers, the statistics, that tell me I made the right decision, that I made humanity a much better place. Like always, I see nothing that gives me such hope. Ironically, that’s what sent me into depression and alcoholism in the first place. God, I don’t even know how long I’ve been like this. All I know is that it wasn’t long after the Launch that I sank to where I am now. I was celebrating, at first. I remember leaning back in my chair, and thinking of how easy it was. I was a scientist tasked to convince the people of Earth that the sun was going supernova. The plan was to convince the rich, powerful, and greedy to leave of their own accord, to venture off the planet, and to leave the world to the poor, charitable, and kind. The plan worked perfectly, with a few small sacrifices. Sacrifices. I hate that word. I despise, I loathe it with every fiber of my being. Of course, the sacrifice that stands out to everyone was that of of the Launch itself. You can’t send a population of billions to Alpha Centauri. It isn’t possible, and even if it was, there is likely no habitable planet there. No, everyone of the rich and corrupt is dead by now. They starved, suffocated, or died of radiation poisoning long ago. Billions. I open up a bottle of whiskey I had been trying to save for a week, and take my first swig of the morning. Sacrifice. Of course it was necessary to make the world a better place. Then, of course, there was the sacrifice of the families. Of course they weren’t going to leave their families behind. Of course the ship was filled with as many children as adults. In fact, the rich bastards often sacrificed their spot for a poor family, or bribed the officials into letting an entire community of the destitute and forgotten onboard. It’s their goddamn fault, those fucking corrupt assholes. They ruined the plan, not me. The blood of the poor people on that ship is on their hands, not mine. But I cannot say the same for the blood of those on Earth. I should have seen it coming, that any astrophysicist on the planet would argue with my findings. I should have seen that anyone who has taken an astrophysics class would know that the sun simply cannot go supernova for millions of years. Why I thought of this too late, I don’t know. But the scientists had to be dealt with, and the cause had to live on. It was as if I pulled the trigger on hundreds of thousands of the educated myself, rich and poor alike. Sacrifices. Then there were the rich who stayed on Earth. In a way, you could say that death by bullets and knives is a better death than being lost in space. It was too merciful, in my opinion. They should have been forced to get on board and die with their greedy kind. ————— The moment I myself announced to the world our plan is easily the worst moment of my life. I expected it to be the best, but the memory of it fills me with such dread, that to even approach the subject, I have to start chugging my alcohol. I remember it so vividly. I was broadcasted live to almost every TV on the planet. I was watched by millions of the impoverished, weakened, and exploited. They were all that was left, and I told them what had become of the rich in such a vigorous speech, I half expected the stadium I was in to erupt in an applause never heard before. Instead, I heard silence. Pure silence, and with it, I could almost hear my heart sinking to the ground. And then one woman stood. She was close enough for me to hear her say, so devoid of intellect, and so clearly a result of brainwashing by the elite: “This is no different from Rwanda.” I remember that feeling that I had never felt before, the one that I feel all the time now. The curious mix of adrenaline and testosterone that is rage. Her blood is definitely on my hands, because I shot her where she stood. I barely made it out of the stadium alive. And now here I sit, watching the world, waiting to see if what I did was worth it. But all I see is the fucking greed, the callousness, the lies I saw before. There was new power, new money, new corruption. I can’t help but feel that I did all of that for nothing. No. I must continue to hope. I must hope that the deaths I caused were not in vain. I must hope that I killed off the evil of the world, that this evil isn’t inherent in every single one of us. I singlehandedly killed the rich, and I should be proud. Yet somehow I’m not. ****** Please let me know what you think, I’m trying to get into writing and I’m really new!	A face appears on the billion screens left behind, a familiar face on a forgotten world. The nomadic tribes consider these whirring magical beings with great reverence. They buzz back and forth across the sky their workings a mysterious power from their god. "Hello again loyal subjects, your time has come to thrive once again." The nomads watch curiously the great empress in the sky, her curious language music to their ears. "Your ancestors destroyes themselves, sent billions into the sky and murdered them with hellfire. Who remained but those which assumed they could fix a world with genocide. They soon found fault in eachother and left a world barren. Their ilk suffered in the wilderness while they left to poison the galaxy." The pictures frightened them and incited anger toward the ancestors they never knew. "A new empire is born today! You will stand united under the power of your immortal goddess. We will conquer the evils of the past and stand atop the galaxy, perfection of human and machine!
	[WP] You are part of a circle of scientists that have collaborated to fake the world into believing the sun was going supernova. As the generation ships carrying the rich, the flawed, the zealous, and the privileged leave Earth you decide its time to rebuild -the right way.	I remember the glaring lights on my face, replacing the millions of faces who could see mine. I was nervous, naturally. This might well end up being the most important interview in the history of mankind. The jury is still out on that. I didn’t really have time to be nervous, though. Next to me, my subject seemed- not just calm, but down right placid. Knowing what this man had done, had proven himself capable of, I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised. What was a world-wide exclusive interview next to saving the world? My director’s hand went up signalling the countdown to live. The countdown helped me focus, and I centered my eyes on the red light, just able to read the words below. He reached 2 and 1 in silence, then let me loose. “Good evening, world. For those of you just joining us for the first time since Zero Hour, My name is Darien Cole. Tonight’s lead story is the much-anticipated interview with Graham Buckner, the face behind what’s being called the greatest prank of all time. He is live in the studio with me. “Before we begin, however: a few updates. We have received word that our repeating centers in Johannesburg, Pyongyang, Sydney, and Buenos Aires are green across the board. I’d like to say welcome to our friends and viewers in Argentina, Australia, North Korea, and South Africa. “Carbon emissions are falling around the globe. Lead scientists agree that we will fall within acceptable limits within the decade, just two years shy of the deadline. “Reconstruction efforts are in full swing worldwide, with teams being sent into the most remote regions imaginable, seeking out survivalists and doomsday preppers, hoping to bring them into the fold. “A team of researchers from California broke the news today that bees are recovering in all surveyed sectors- signs of colony collapse are receding, and more and more hives are being reintroduced across temperate zones. This is also great news for bats, how have struggled in recent years. The team says that with increased pollination, there will be a surge in insect populations that will be a great boon to bats, who provide a potent control on the insects. “For the first time, mosquitoes will not be part of that surge- efforts to extinguish the parasitic insects by rendering them impotent are having a more drastic effect than anticipated. Ecologists expect little to no impact to anyone.” I gave them a confident smile. “Anyone, anywhere, ever. Good news indeed. “We will have more details on these and other stories after the lead. Now I would like to say first of all, welcome to Mr. Buckner.” I gestured to my left, and the lights rose on Graham’s rather unimposing figure. Seeing him on the street, one might think he was a professor of something obscure and esoteric, like philosophy. He had a thick head of graying hair, a full beard, and half-rim glasses covering gray-green eyes. He wore a plain shirt under a corduroy jacket, complete with leather patched on the elbows, and his hand were clasped comfortably across a comfortable belly. It was a perfectly crafted affect, as were all his dealings with other people. His voice was even, as calm as his exterior. It was low and warm- a well-loved college professor. “Please, Darien, call me Graham. It is an honor to be here.” “And it is an honor to have you, Graham. It must have taken some juggling to free up your schedule to meet with us.” “Not really. To be honest, I’m not up to a great deal anymore. I have often found that when you find the right people and give them the right tools, the right thing will be done. People, in truth, need very little management to do the right thing. It comes very naturally to us.” “Then what are you doing these, days, if I may ask?” “Consulting, largely. That’s what pays my bills, so to speak. I write a great deal. Some philosophy, but I wonder if the world hasn’t had quite enough of that. I like fiction. Those are the really fun stories to tell.” “Any idea when your writings will be published?” “Truthfully, no. I haven’t bothered to find an agent. Though I do find myself in the enviable position of being certain that when I am ready, the market will be there.” “A writer’s dream, I suppose?” “Absolutely.” “To the subject at hand- my first question for you. What was it like for you as we approached Zero Hour? Those last minutes before revealing not just your face, but what you’d done- what were those like for you?” “Nerve-wracking, in a word. I was violently ill the morning of, in fact. Couldn’t keep anything down.” “That seems unlike you, if I’m being honest.” “I have years of practice speaking in front of groups of different sizes, some friendly and many hostile. My ability to handle an audience is a very crafty coverup of my personal anxiety. Even now, in the interest of fairness, there is some trepidation over my words being broadcast globally.” “Yet you are here.” “Anxiety is an expression of fear in the mind. It is a signal- nothing more- that there are high stakes before you. That you have skin in the game; something to lose. Beyond that, if the reward outweighs the risk, fear is just noise. Whatever emotions I may have about this, it is necessary. So yes, I am here.” “What else can you tell us about that countdown?” “There was a lot of self-doubt. A lot of wondering if I was doing the right thing. How it would be perceived by the world at large. But at that point, it was too late to stop- the ships had already departed. And then I remembered something, something that had inspired and driven me from the inception of my idea.” “Which was?” “That the very problem I was trying to solve was in fact the source of my anxiety, and the voices that would be most likely to cry foul had been silenced. Also- and this is key- that I have far more in common with my neighbors than I have been led to believe. In that moment, I simply had faith. My stomach calmed, and I was able to address the world as I had planned.” “It seems odd that a man who has acted so decisively against religion would talk about faith.” “Faith gets a bad rap, in my opinion. The act of having faith is simply trusting in your beliefs. There is no particular association with what one believes in other than long-standing tradition. The act of driving down the road requires a certain faith that your fellow drivers will obey the same rules you do, otherwise fear would paralyze us all. Faith, in the absence of knowledge, is the antidote to fear. I couldn’t know how I would be received, but I had faith. That allowed me to continue.” “What, then, was the start of all this? Where did the idea come from? The whole...illusion, if you will.” “Oddly enough, a Reddit post. There was a writing prompt that I have long since forgotten, but it did remind me of a quote by Diderot: ‘And his hands would plait the priest’s entrails for want of a rope to strangle kings.’ It means simply that mankind could never be free while there are men who seek to dominate them.” “That’s a gory image.” “France, around the time of the Revolution, was an exceptionally bloody place. We all saw, historically, what happened to Robespierre, however sympathetic to his original cause we may be.” “So you sought another way?” “I did. I can’t deny the thought of violence was never far from my mind. I remembered, though that we had been given a gift in the disastrous regime of 45 and other right-wing populists across the world.” “A gift?” “From a certain perspective. I will not deny that those years were heartbreaking and tragic on a daily basis, nor to undermine anyone’s right to trauma in those days. But in that fear, these men had taught us how to defeat them.” “How is that?” “Fear.” There came a moment of dead air, as if that answer was self-evident. (Part 2 in child comment)	A face appears on the billion screens left behind, a familiar face on a forgotten world. The nomadic tribes consider these whirring magical beings with great reverence. They buzz back and forth across the sky their workings a mysterious power from their god. "Hello again loyal subjects, your time has come to thrive once again." The nomads watch curiously the great empress in the sky, her curious language music to their ears. "Your ancestors destroyes themselves, sent billions into the sky and murdered them with hellfire. Who remained but those which assumed they could fix a world with genocide. They soon found fault in eachother and left a world barren. Their ilk suffered in the wilderness while they left to poison the galaxy." The pictures frightened them and incited anger toward the ancestors they never knew. "A new empire is born today! You will stand united under the power of your immortal goddess. We will conquer the evils of the past and stand atop the galaxy, perfection of human and machine!
	[WP] You are part of a circle of scientists that have collaborated to fake the world into believing the sun was going supernova. As the generation ships carrying the rich, the flawed, the zealous, and the privileged leave Earth you decide its time to rebuild -the right way.	The last ship sailed away into the night, black sky swallowing the vessel in a ocean of stars. I popped a potato chip into my mouth, savoring the salt on my lips as the last of Earth’s problems left the atmosphere. “You ready?” Kayla asked. She was standing behind me, even taller than usual in heels. “Ready.” I brushed potato-chip dust off my jeans as I stood. I lingered a brief moment on the edge of that roof contemplating the new world stretched out before us. I turned to Kayla and grinned. “Woah, I’ve never seen you do that before,” she said, dark eyebrows arched. “We’ve done it. We...we can rebuild.” I was seized by a sudden fevered excitement. “It’s all going to be so much better.” My palms were sweaty and my heart raced. I pushed past Kayla and yanked open the door to our offices down below. Beakers, wires, research had been my world for so long to bring this about. I stepped down in front of a green-screen, Kayla standing off to the right with a lit cigarette, Rodger spinning the camera equipment, pointing it at me. There were people here in this very room who didn’t know. My excitement was climbing and I wanted to shed my skin. I was vibrating with good news. I smiled as Rodger counted down. We would be broadcasting live to every screen and every radio across the globe, presumably to tell everyone they were most definitely toast. We’d been “keeping morale up” by saying there was research being done to prevent the giant catastrophe that would end Earth, but people hadn’t bought it. The riots were a sad side effect. I don’t blame Rodger for eyeing me oddly when he thought I was about to tell everyone they were going to die with a smile on my face. “Hello, everyone,” I said as soon as we went live. “I have great news. The world is no longer going to end.” Rodger’s jaw dropped open and he angled the camera slightly down in shock. I frowned, jerking impatiently for him to right it. He did, snapping his mouth shut, and I continued, “The last ship has left Earth containing the rich who ran this world behind the scenes, sadly their radio equipment was damaged,” I couldn’t contain my wide smile. Kayla’s cigarette lit cherry-red in the corner of my vision. “They won’t be able to come back, and we have an opportunity, a responsibility to rebuild!” Rodger let the camera drop again. I was beginning to get angry. I gestured for him to right it, but he was looking at me with an expression of disgust on his face. I recoiled slightly. “It sounds like you knew the world wasn’t going to end,” he said clearly, his voice carrying over the office, silencing the murmurs that I hadn’t realized had erupted with my announcement. Now it was deadly quiet. “Well...” I said, floundering a bit. He seemed mad. In fact a lot of people in the room seemed to be exhibiting feelings other than joy. One girl was crying. “Yes,” I finally answered defensively. Rodger took a step forward that was threatening. I gestured to Kayla. “We both did.” Now eyes turned to her and it was a relief to have them off me. Slowly she took a drag, dropped her cigarette, and crushed it beneath her toe. “I found out today,” she said softly, in a very un-Kayla-like voice. It even cracked a little. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t say anything...” “What are you talking about?” I asked her incredulously. “You’ve known from the beginning and...” I looked around at all the horror-stricken faces. “Why are all of you upset? There was serious puppeteering going on behind the political scene. This is our chance to start anew! Those people are gone, but it’s not like I killed them. They’re going to their own habitable planet where-” “Millions of people are dead!” Rodger yelled over me. I blinked, confused. “You’ve been sitting here in your laboratory doing God knows what, now that we know you weren’t working on a solution, but outside...” he looked sickened. “We didn’t tell the scientists because we wanted you to be focused, to be working,” his voice was now low, dangerous. I shifted my eyes from him to the people around the room. I saw not one sympathetic face there. “My sister killed herself,” a girl whispered, her voice carrying in the silence. “She didn’t want to face the end of the world, so she killed herself.” “I tried heroine,” another voice sounded nearby, quietly. “I thought there wasn’t a point...” “I fucked twenty different people in one night! Allah knows what diseases I’ve got.” “My grandmother was shot then trampled in a riot.” The confessions kept coming, washing over me in a horrifying wave. How was this true? How had I not seen it coming? My mom had always said I wasn’t good with people, but was I really this stupid? This clueless? My knees weakened, and I wanted to scream at Rodger, at all of them, but they were right. I collapsed under the weight of their words, their pain. “Enough!” came a clear, commanding voice over the swell of confessions. I barely looked up to see it was Kayla who’d spoken. All eyes turned to her, the young woman who’d spoken about her sister looked on with her arms crossed. Rodger glared her down. That was something else that hadn’t made sense. Why had Kayla lied? Surely if anyone could have seen this coming, it was her. She was the human part of me, the empathetic half of my brain. “Clearly, there has been a miscarriage of justice here,” she said smoothly. Heads nodded through the crowd. “But that doesn’t mean there needs to be more injustice tomorrow. This man,” she placed a hand on my shoulder, “WILL be punished. But, the rest of the world doesn’t need to fall into ruin because of one man’s mistake. This can’t be the next Eden. We have the opportunity to build a future that we can be proud of. To start again without the behind-doors politics, without bribery and corruption. Don’t let this deception,” she spat out the word and looked down on me like she’d like to spit on me as well, “wreak humanity’s future.” Her eyes carried out into the crowd. There was always something about Kayla, something magnetic and seemingly good. I noticed Rodger was looking determined, optimistic. The girl who’d been regarding her cooly, with crosses arms, now buried her face in her friend’s shirt, sobbing. When she looked up though, even she seemed caught by Kayla’s spell. And so I did watch the new society I’d dreamed of. Seemingly egalitarian, seemingly fair, seemingly good. Only I knew the truth. Kayla had planned this. She’d sacrificed those first lives for the “greater good.” For power. Her face was plastered on every street on every corner: the Leader of the New World Order. There were of course different factions and political groups that rose against her, but her benevolent dictatorship marched on, a conquering Alexander the Great. No one would listen to me, or maybe no one cared. I’d taken everything from them - structure, stability, familiar oppression, even if it was oppression, was still familiar. No one wanted to listen to the man on the other side of prison bars, so no one did.	A face appears on the billion screens left behind, a familiar face on a forgotten world. The nomadic tribes consider these whirring magical beings with great reverence. They buzz back and forth across the sky their workings a mysterious power from their god. "Hello again loyal subjects, your time has come to thrive once again." The nomads watch curiously the great empress in the sky, her curious language music to their ears. "Your ancestors destroyes themselves, sent billions into the sky and murdered them with hellfire. Who remained but those which assumed they could fix a world with genocide. They soon found fault in eachother and left a world barren. Their ilk suffered in the wilderness while they left to poison the galaxy." The pictures frightened them and incited anger toward the ancestors they never knew. "A new empire is born today! You will stand united under the power of your immortal goddess. We will conquer the evils of the past and stand atop the galaxy, perfection of human and machine!
	[WP] You are part of a circle of scientists that have collaborated to fake the world into believing the sun was going supernova. As the generation ships carrying the rich, the flawed, the zealous, and the privileged leave Earth you decide its time to rebuild -the right way.	I lay alone, hungover, on the street corner. I have been like this for years. I’m an old man, and a hungry one at that. I look for what I have looked for for the last 30 years: an improvement. I look for the increase in people that are kind to each other. I look for the numbers, the statistics, that tell me I made the right decision, that I made humanity a much better place. Like always, I see nothing that gives me such hope. Ironically, that’s what sent me into depression and alcoholism in the first place. God, I don’t even know how long I’ve been like this. All I know is that it wasn’t long after the Launch that I sank to where I am now. I was celebrating, at first. I remember leaning back in my chair, and thinking of how easy it was. I was a scientist tasked to convince the people of Earth that the sun was going supernova. The plan was to convince the rich, powerful, and greedy to leave of their own accord, to venture off the planet, and to leave the world to the poor, charitable, and kind. The plan worked perfectly, with a few small sacrifices. Sacrifices. I hate that word. I despise, I loathe it with every fiber of my being. Of course, the sacrifice that stands out to everyone was that of of the Launch itself. You can’t send a population of billions to Alpha Centauri. It isn’t possible, and even if it was, there is likely no habitable planet there. No, everyone of the rich and corrupt is dead by now. They starved, suffocated, or died of radiation poisoning long ago. Billions. I open up a bottle of whiskey I had been trying to save for a week, and take my first swig of the morning. Sacrifice. Of course it was necessary to make the world a better place. Then, of course, there was the sacrifice of the families. Of course they weren’t going to leave their families behind. Of course the ship was filled with as many children as adults. In fact, the rich bastards often sacrificed their spot for a poor family, or bribed the officials into letting an entire community of the destitute and forgotten onboard. It’s their goddamn fault, those fucking corrupt assholes. They ruined the plan, not me. The blood of the poor people on that ship is on their hands, not mine. But I cannot say the same for the blood of those on Earth. I should have seen it coming, that any astrophysicist on the planet would argue with my findings. I should have seen that anyone who has taken an astrophysics class would know that the sun simply cannot go supernova for millions of years. Why I thought of this too late, I don’t know. But the scientists had to be dealt with, and the cause had to live on. It was as if I pulled the trigger on hundreds of thousands of the educated myself, rich and poor alike. Sacrifices. Then there were the rich who stayed on Earth. In a way, you could say that death by bullets and knives is a better death than being lost in space. It was too merciful, in my opinion. They should have been forced to get on board and die with their greedy kind. ————— The moment I myself announced to the world our plan is easily the worst moment of my life. I expected it to be the best, but the memory of it fills me with such dread, that to even approach the subject, I have to start chugging my alcohol. I remember it so vividly. I was broadcasted live to almost every TV on the planet. I was watched by millions of the impoverished, weakened, and exploited. They were all that was left, and I told them what had become of the rich in such a vigorous speech, I half expected the stadium I was in to erupt in an applause never heard before. Instead, I heard silence. Pure silence, and with it, I could almost hear my heart sinking to the ground. And then one woman stood. She was close enough for me to hear her say, so devoid of intellect, and so clearly a result of brainwashing by the elite: “This is no different from Rwanda.” I remember that feeling that I had never felt before, the one that I feel all the time now. The curious mix of adrenaline and testosterone that is rage. Her blood is definitely on my hands, because I shot her where she stood. I barely made it out of the stadium alive. And now here I sit, watching the world, waiting to see if what I did was worth it. But all I see is the fucking greed, the callousness, the lies I saw before. There was new power, new money, new corruption. I can’t help but feel that I did all of that for nothing. No. I must continue to hope. I must hope that the deaths I caused were not in vain. I must hope that I killed off the evil of the world, that this evil isn’t inherent in every single one of us. I singlehandedly killed the rich, and I should be proud. Yet somehow I’m not. ****** Please let me know what you think, I’m trying to get into writing and I’m really new!	Most people don't remember but this is the fifth time I have seen this happen. It had not worked when we last tried it 2500 years ago and it will not work this time. How does it always come to this? People who believe that they can cleanly divide people into two camps: useless and useful, and get rid of the useless ones and everything will be fine. They think it would be that easy to distinguish, like it is something inextricably woven into their DNA or their personhood, when the criteria they use -- their own opinions -- is far from scientific. True, they do end up getting rid of a lot of problematic people, but more people are born, new divisions arise, and the cycle starts all over again. But that is humanity for you: they think they can solve their problems by getting rid of other people. They don't step back and look at themselves making the same mistakes as countless others had before them. They are so sure that they will make a difference, but they never do. Mark my words. This will not be the last ship.
	[WP] You are part of a circle of scientists that have collaborated to fake the world into believing the sun was going supernova. As the generation ships carrying the rich, the flawed, the zealous, and the privileged leave Earth you decide its time to rebuild -the right way.	I remember the glaring lights on my face, replacing the millions of faces who could see mine. I was nervous, naturally. This might well end up being the most important interview in the history of mankind. The jury is still out on that. I didn’t really have time to be nervous, though. Next to me, my subject seemed- not just calm, but down right placid. Knowing what this man had done, had proven himself capable of, I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised. What was a world-wide exclusive interview next to saving the world? My director’s hand went up signalling the countdown to live. The countdown helped me focus, and I centered my eyes on the red light, just able to read the words below. He reached 2 and 1 in silence, then let me loose. “Good evening, world. For those of you just joining us for the first time since Zero Hour, My name is Darien Cole. Tonight’s lead story is the much-anticipated interview with Graham Buckner, the face behind what’s being called the greatest prank of all time. He is live in the studio with me. “Before we begin, however: a few updates. We have received word that our repeating centers in Johannesburg, Pyongyang, Sydney, and Buenos Aires are green across the board. I’d like to say welcome to our friends and viewers in Argentina, Australia, North Korea, and South Africa. “Carbon emissions are falling around the globe. Lead scientists agree that we will fall within acceptable limits within the decade, just two years shy of the deadline. “Reconstruction efforts are in full swing worldwide, with teams being sent into the most remote regions imaginable, seeking out survivalists and doomsday preppers, hoping to bring them into the fold. “A team of researchers from California broke the news today that bees are recovering in all surveyed sectors- signs of colony collapse are receding, and more and more hives are being reintroduced across temperate zones. This is also great news for bats, how have struggled in recent years. The team says that with increased pollination, there will be a surge in insect populations that will be a great boon to bats, who provide a potent control on the insects. “For the first time, mosquitoes will not be part of that surge- efforts to extinguish the parasitic insects by rendering them impotent are having a more drastic effect than anticipated. Ecologists expect little to no impact to anyone.” I gave them a confident smile. “Anyone, anywhere, ever. Good news indeed. “We will have more details on these and other stories after the lead. Now I would like to say first of all, welcome to Mr. Buckner.” I gestured to my left, and the lights rose on Graham’s rather unimposing figure. Seeing him on the street, one might think he was a professor of something obscure and esoteric, like philosophy. He had a thick head of graying hair, a full beard, and half-rim glasses covering gray-green eyes. He wore a plain shirt under a corduroy jacket, complete with leather patched on the elbows, and his hand were clasped comfortably across a comfortable belly. It was a perfectly crafted affect, as were all his dealings with other people. His voice was even, as calm as his exterior. It was low and warm- a well-loved college professor. “Please, Darien, call me Graham. It is an honor to be here.” “And it is an honor to have you, Graham. It must have taken some juggling to free up your schedule to meet with us.” “Not really. To be honest, I’m not up to a great deal anymore. I have often found that when you find the right people and give them the right tools, the right thing will be done. People, in truth, need very little management to do the right thing. It comes very naturally to us.” “Then what are you doing these, days, if I may ask?” “Consulting, largely. That’s what pays my bills, so to speak. I write a great deal. Some philosophy, but I wonder if the world hasn’t had quite enough of that. I like fiction. Those are the really fun stories to tell.” “Any idea when your writings will be published?” “Truthfully, no. I haven’t bothered to find an agent. Though I do find myself in the enviable position of being certain that when I am ready, the market will be there.” “A writer’s dream, I suppose?” “Absolutely.” “To the subject at hand- my first question for you. What was it like for you as we approached Zero Hour? Those last minutes before revealing not just your face, but what you’d done- what were those like for you?” “Nerve-wracking, in a word. I was violently ill the morning of, in fact. Couldn’t keep anything down.” “That seems unlike you, if I’m being honest.” “I have years of practice speaking in front of groups of different sizes, some friendly and many hostile. My ability to handle an audience is a very crafty coverup of my personal anxiety. Even now, in the interest of fairness, there is some trepidation over my words being broadcast globally.” “Yet you are here.” “Anxiety is an expression of fear in the mind. It is a signal- nothing more- that there are high stakes before you. That you have skin in the game; something to lose. Beyond that, if the reward outweighs the risk, fear is just noise. Whatever emotions I may have about this, it is necessary. So yes, I am here.” “What else can you tell us about that countdown?” “There was a lot of self-doubt. A lot of wondering if I was doing the right thing. How it would be perceived by the world at large. But at that point, it was too late to stop- the ships had already departed. And then I remembered something, something that had inspired and driven me from the inception of my idea.” “Which was?” “That the very problem I was trying to solve was in fact the source of my anxiety, and the voices that would be most likely to cry foul had been silenced. Also- and this is key- that I have far more in common with my neighbors than I have been led to believe. In that moment, I simply had faith. My stomach calmed, and I was able to address the world as I had planned.” “It seems odd that a man who has acted so decisively against religion would talk about faith.” “Faith gets a bad rap, in my opinion. The act of having faith is simply trusting in your beliefs. There is no particular association with what one believes in other than long-standing tradition. The act of driving down the road requires a certain faith that your fellow drivers will obey the same rules you do, otherwise fear would paralyze us all. Faith, in the absence of knowledge, is the antidote to fear. I couldn’t know how I would be received, but I had faith. That allowed me to continue.” “What, then, was the start of all this? Where did the idea come from? The whole...illusion, if you will.” “Oddly enough, a Reddit post. There was a writing prompt that I have long since forgotten, but it did remind me of a quote by Diderot: ‘And his hands would plait the priest’s entrails for want of a rope to strangle kings.’ It means simply that mankind could never be free while there are men who seek to dominate them.” “That’s a gory image.” “France, around the time of the Revolution, was an exceptionally bloody place. We all saw, historically, what happened to Robespierre, however sympathetic to his original cause we may be.” “So you sought another way?” “I did. I can’t deny the thought of violence was never far from my mind. I remembered, though that we had been given a gift in the disastrous regime of 45 and other right-wing populists across the world.” “A gift?” “From a certain perspective. I will not deny that those years were heartbreaking and tragic on a daily basis, nor to undermine anyone’s right to trauma in those days. But in that fear, these men had taught us how to defeat them.” “How is that?” “Fear.” There came a moment of dead air, as if that answer was self-evident. (Part 2 in child comment)	Most people don't remember but this is the fifth time I have seen this happen. It had not worked when we last tried it 2500 years ago and it will not work this time. How does it always come to this? People who believe that they can cleanly divide people into two camps: useless and useful, and get rid of the useless ones and everything will be fine. They think it would be that easy to distinguish, like it is something inextricably woven into their DNA or their personhood, when the criteria they use -- their own opinions -- is far from scientific. True, they do end up getting rid of a lot of problematic people, but more people are born, new divisions arise, and the cycle starts all over again. But that is humanity for you: they think they can solve their problems by getting rid of other people. They don't step back and look at themselves making the same mistakes as countless others had before them. They are so sure that they will make a difference, but they never do. Mark my words. This will not be the last ship.
	[WP] You are part of a circle of scientists that have collaborated to fake the world into believing the sun was going supernova. As the generation ships carrying the rich, the flawed, the zealous, and the privileged leave Earth you decide its time to rebuild -the right way.	The last ship sailed away into the night, black sky swallowing the vessel in a ocean of stars. I popped a potato chip into my mouth, savoring the salt on my lips as the last of Earth’s problems left the atmosphere. “You ready?” Kayla asked. She was standing behind me, even taller than usual in heels. “Ready.” I brushed potato-chip dust off my jeans as I stood. I lingered a brief moment on the edge of that roof contemplating the new world stretched out before us. I turned to Kayla and grinned. “Woah, I’ve never seen you do that before,” she said, dark eyebrows arched. “We’ve done it. We...we can rebuild.” I was seized by a sudden fevered excitement. “It’s all going to be so much better.” My palms were sweaty and my heart raced. I pushed past Kayla and yanked open the door to our offices down below. Beakers, wires, research had been my world for so long to bring this about. I stepped down in front of a green-screen, Kayla standing off to the right with a lit cigarette, Rodger spinning the camera equipment, pointing it at me. There were people here in this very room who didn’t know. My excitement was climbing and I wanted to shed my skin. I was vibrating with good news. I smiled as Rodger counted down. We would be broadcasting live to every screen and every radio across the globe, presumably to tell everyone they were most definitely toast. We’d been “keeping morale up” by saying there was research being done to prevent the giant catastrophe that would end Earth, but people hadn’t bought it. The riots were a sad side effect. I don’t blame Rodger for eyeing me oddly when he thought I was about to tell everyone they were going to die with a smile on my face. “Hello, everyone,” I said as soon as we went live. “I have great news. The world is no longer going to end.” Rodger’s jaw dropped open and he angled the camera slightly down in shock. I frowned, jerking impatiently for him to right it. He did, snapping his mouth shut, and I continued, “The last ship has left Earth containing the rich who ran this world behind the scenes, sadly their radio equipment was damaged,” I couldn’t contain my wide smile. Kayla’s cigarette lit cherry-red in the corner of my vision. “They won’t be able to come back, and we have an opportunity, a responsibility to rebuild!” Rodger let the camera drop again. I was beginning to get angry. I gestured for him to right it, but he was looking at me with an expression of disgust on his face. I recoiled slightly. “It sounds like you knew the world wasn’t going to end,” he said clearly, his voice carrying over the office, silencing the murmurs that I hadn’t realized had erupted with my announcement. Now it was deadly quiet. “Well...” I said, floundering a bit. He seemed mad. In fact a lot of people in the room seemed to be exhibiting feelings other than joy. One girl was crying. “Yes,” I finally answered defensively. Rodger took a step forward that was threatening. I gestured to Kayla. “We both did.” Now eyes turned to her and it was a relief to have them off me. Slowly she took a drag, dropped her cigarette, and crushed it beneath her toe. “I found out today,” she said softly, in a very un-Kayla-like voice. It even cracked a little. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t say anything...” “What are you talking about?” I asked her incredulously. “You’ve known from the beginning and...” I looked around at all the horror-stricken faces. “Why are all of you upset? There was serious puppeteering going on behind the political scene. This is our chance to start anew! Those people are gone, but it’s not like I killed them. They’re going to their own habitable planet where-” “Millions of people are dead!” Rodger yelled over me. I blinked, confused. “You’ve been sitting here in your laboratory doing God knows what, now that we know you weren’t working on a solution, but outside...” he looked sickened. “We didn’t tell the scientists because we wanted you to be focused, to be working,” his voice was now low, dangerous. I shifted my eyes from him to the people around the room. I saw not one sympathetic face there. “My sister killed herself,” a girl whispered, her voice carrying in the silence. “She didn’t want to face the end of the world, so she killed herself.” “I tried heroine,” another voice sounded nearby, quietly. “I thought there wasn’t a point...” “I fucked twenty different people in one night! Allah knows what diseases I’ve got.” “My grandmother was shot then trampled in a riot.” The confessions kept coming, washing over me in a horrifying wave. How was this true? How had I not seen it coming? My mom had always said I wasn’t good with people, but was I really this stupid? This clueless? My knees weakened, and I wanted to scream at Rodger, at all of them, but they were right. I collapsed under the weight of their words, their pain. “Enough!” came a clear, commanding voice over the swell of confessions. I barely looked up to see it was Kayla who’d spoken. All eyes turned to her, the young woman who’d spoken about her sister looked on with her arms crossed. Rodger glared her down. That was something else that hadn’t made sense. Why had Kayla lied? Surely if anyone could have seen this coming, it was her. She was the human part of me, the empathetic half of my brain. “Clearly, there has been a miscarriage of justice here,” she said smoothly. Heads nodded through the crowd. “But that doesn’t mean there needs to be more injustice tomorrow. This man,” she placed a hand on my shoulder, “WILL be punished. But, the rest of the world doesn’t need to fall into ruin because of one man’s mistake. This can’t be the next Eden. We have the opportunity to build a future that we can be proud of. To start again without the behind-doors politics, without bribery and corruption. Don’t let this deception,” she spat out the word and looked down on me like she’d like to spit on me as well, “wreak humanity’s future.” Her eyes carried out into the crowd. There was always something about Kayla, something magnetic and seemingly good. I noticed Rodger was looking determined, optimistic. The girl who’d been regarding her cooly, with crosses arms, now buried her face in her friend’s shirt, sobbing. When she looked up though, even she seemed caught by Kayla’s spell. And so I did watch the new society I’d dreamed of. Seemingly egalitarian, seemingly fair, seemingly good. Only I knew the truth. Kayla had planned this. She’d sacrificed those first lives for the “greater good.” For power. Her face was plastered on every street on every corner: the Leader of the New World Order. There were of course different factions and political groups that rose against her, but her benevolent dictatorship marched on, a conquering Alexander the Great. No one would listen to me, or maybe no one cared. I’d taken everything from them - structure, stability, familiar oppression, even if it was oppression, was still familiar. No one wanted to listen to the man on the other side of prison bars, so no one did.	Most people don't remember but this is the fifth time I have seen this happen. It had not worked when we last tried it 2500 years ago and it will not work this time. How does it always come to this? People who believe that they can cleanly divide people into two camps: useless and useful, and get rid of the useless ones and everything will be fine. They think it would be that easy to distinguish, like it is something inextricably woven into their DNA or their personhood, when the criteria they use -- their own opinions -- is far from scientific. True, they do end up getting rid of a lot of problematic people, but more people are born, new divisions arise, and the cycle starts all over again. But that is humanity for you: they think they can solve their problems by getting rid of other people. They don't step back and look at themselves making the same mistakes as countless others had before them. They are so sure that they will make a difference, but they never do. Mark my words. This will not be the last ship.
	[WP] You are part of a circle of scientists that have collaborated to fake the world into believing the sun was going supernova. As the generation ships carrying the rich, the flawed, the zealous, and the privileged leave Earth you decide its time to rebuild -the right way.	I remember the glaring lights on my face, replacing the millions of faces who could see mine. I was nervous, naturally. This might well end up being the most important interview in the history of mankind. The jury is still out on that. I didn’t really have time to be nervous, though. Next to me, my subject seemed- not just calm, but down right placid. Knowing what this man had done, had proven himself capable of, I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised. What was a world-wide exclusive interview next to saving the world? My director’s hand went up signalling the countdown to live. The countdown helped me focus, and I centered my eyes on the red light, just able to read the words below. He reached 2 and 1 in silence, then let me loose. “Good evening, world. For those of you just joining us for the first time since Zero Hour, My name is Darien Cole. Tonight’s lead story is the much-anticipated interview with Graham Buckner, the face behind what’s being called the greatest prank of all time. He is live in the studio with me. “Before we begin, however: a few updates. We have received word that our repeating centers in Johannesburg, Pyongyang, Sydney, and Buenos Aires are green across the board. I’d like to say welcome to our friends and viewers in Argentina, Australia, North Korea, and South Africa. “Carbon emissions are falling around the globe. Lead scientists agree that we will fall within acceptable limits within the decade, just two years shy of the deadline. “Reconstruction efforts are in full swing worldwide, with teams being sent into the most remote regions imaginable, seeking out survivalists and doomsday preppers, hoping to bring them into the fold. “A team of researchers from California broke the news today that bees are recovering in all surveyed sectors- signs of colony collapse are receding, and more and more hives are being reintroduced across temperate zones. This is also great news for bats, how have struggled in recent years. The team says that with increased pollination, there will be a surge in insect populations that will be a great boon to bats, who provide a potent control on the insects. “For the first time, mosquitoes will not be part of that surge- efforts to extinguish the parasitic insects by rendering them impotent are having a more drastic effect than anticipated. Ecologists expect little to no impact to anyone.” I gave them a confident smile. “Anyone, anywhere, ever. Good news indeed. “We will have more details on these and other stories after the lead. Now I would like to say first of all, welcome to Mr. Buckner.” I gestured to my left, and the lights rose on Graham’s rather unimposing figure. Seeing him on the street, one might think he was a professor of something obscure and esoteric, like philosophy. He had a thick head of graying hair, a full beard, and half-rim glasses covering gray-green eyes. He wore a plain shirt under a corduroy jacket, complete with leather patched on the elbows, and his hand were clasped comfortably across a comfortable belly. It was a perfectly crafted affect, as were all his dealings with other people. His voice was even, as calm as his exterior. It was low and warm- a well-loved college professor. “Please, Darien, call me Graham. It is an honor to be here.” “And it is an honor to have you, Graham. It must have taken some juggling to free up your schedule to meet with us.” “Not really. To be honest, I’m not up to a great deal anymore. I have often found that when you find the right people and give them the right tools, the right thing will be done. People, in truth, need very little management to do the right thing. It comes very naturally to us.” “Then what are you doing these, days, if I may ask?” “Consulting, largely. That’s what pays my bills, so to speak. I write a great deal. Some philosophy, but I wonder if the world hasn’t had quite enough of that. I like fiction. Those are the really fun stories to tell.” “Any idea when your writings will be published?” “Truthfully, no. I haven’t bothered to find an agent. Though I do find myself in the enviable position of being certain that when I am ready, the market will be there.” “A writer’s dream, I suppose?” “Absolutely.” “To the subject at hand- my first question for you. What was it like for you as we approached Zero Hour? Those last minutes before revealing not just your face, but what you’d done- what were those like for you?” “Nerve-wracking, in a word. I was violently ill the morning of, in fact. Couldn’t keep anything down.” “That seems unlike you, if I’m being honest.” “I have years of practice speaking in front of groups of different sizes, some friendly and many hostile. My ability to handle an audience is a very crafty coverup of my personal anxiety. Even now, in the interest of fairness, there is some trepidation over my words being broadcast globally.” “Yet you are here.” “Anxiety is an expression of fear in the mind. It is a signal- nothing more- that there are high stakes before you. That you have skin in the game; something to lose. Beyond that, if the reward outweighs the risk, fear is just noise. Whatever emotions I may have about this, it is necessary. So yes, I am here.” “What else can you tell us about that countdown?” “There was a lot of self-doubt. A lot of wondering if I was doing the right thing. How it would be perceived by the world at large. But at that point, it was too late to stop- the ships had already departed. And then I remembered something, something that had inspired and driven me from the inception of my idea.” “Which was?” “That the very problem I was trying to solve was in fact the source of my anxiety, and the voices that would be most likely to cry foul had been silenced. Also- and this is key- that I have far more in common with my neighbors than I have been led to believe. In that moment, I simply had faith. My stomach calmed, and I was able to address the world as I had planned.” “It seems odd that a man who has acted so decisively against religion would talk about faith.” “Faith gets a bad rap, in my opinion. The act of having faith is simply trusting in your beliefs. There is no particular association with what one believes in other than long-standing tradition. The act of driving down the road requires a certain faith that your fellow drivers will obey the same rules you do, otherwise fear would paralyze us all. Faith, in the absence of knowledge, is the antidote to fear. I couldn’t know how I would be received, but I had faith. That allowed me to continue.” “What, then, was the start of all this? Where did the idea come from? The whole...illusion, if you will.” “Oddly enough, a Reddit post. There was a writing prompt that I have long since forgotten, but it did remind me of a quote by Diderot: ‘And his hands would plait the priest’s entrails for want of a rope to strangle kings.’ It means simply that mankind could never be free while there are men who seek to dominate them.” “That’s a gory image.” “France, around the time of the Revolution, was an exceptionally bloody place. We all saw, historically, what happened to Robespierre, however sympathetic to his original cause we may be.” “So you sought another way?” “I did. I can’t deny the thought of violence was never far from my mind. I remembered, though that we had been given a gift in the disastrous regime of 45 and other right-wing populists across the world.” “A gift?” “From a certain perspective. I will not deny that those years were heartbreaking and tragic on a daily basis, nor to undermine anyone’s right to trauma in those days. But in that fear, these men had taught us how to defeat them.” “How is that?” “Fear.” There came a moment of dead air, as if that answer was self-evident. (Part 2 in child comment)	I lay alone, hungover, on the street corner. I have been like this for years. I’m an old man, and a hungry one at that. I look for what I have looked for for the last 30 years: an improvement. I look for the increase in people that are kind to each other. I look for the numbers, the statistics, that tell me I made the right decision, that I made humanity a much better place. Like always, I see nothing that gives me such hope. Ironically, that’s what sent me into depression and alcoholism in the first place. God, I don’t even know how long I’ve been like this. All I know is that it wasn’t long after the Launch that I sank to where I am now. I was celebrating, at first. I remember leaning back in my chair, and thinking of how easy it was. I was a scientist tasked to convince the people of Earth that the sun was going supernova. The plan was to convince the rich, powerful, and greedy to leave of their own accord, to venture off the planet, and to leave the world to the poor, charitable, and kind. The plan worked perfectly, with a few small sacrifices. Sacrifices. I hate that word. I despise, I loathe it with every fiber of my being. Of course, the sacrifice that stands out to everyone was that of of the Launch itself. You can’t send a population of billions to Alpha Centauri. It isn’t possible, and even if it was, there is likely no habitable planet there. No, everyone of the rich and corrupt is dead by now. They starved, suffocated, or died of radiation poisoning long ago. Billions. I open up a bottle of whiskey I had been trying to save for a week, and take my first swig of the morning. Sacrifice. Of course it was necessary to make the world a better place. Then, of course, there was the sacrifice of the families. Of course they weren’t going to leave their families behind. Of course the ship was filled with as many children as adults. In fact, the rich bastards often sacrificed their spot for a poor family, or bribed the officials into letting an entire community of the destitute and forgotten onboard. It’s their goddamn fault, those fucking corrupt assholes. They ruined the plan, not me. The blood of the poor people on that ship is on their hands, not mine. But I cannot say the same for the blood of those on Earth. I should have seen it coming, that any astrophysicist on the planet would argue with my findings. I should have seen that anyone who has taken an astrophysics class would know that the sun simply cannot go supernova for millions of years. Why I thought of this too late, I don’t know. But the scientists had to be dealt with, and the cause had to live on. It was as if I pulled the trigger on hundreds of thousands of the educated myself, rich and poor alike. Sacrifices. Then there were the rich who stayed on Earth. In a way, you could say that death by bullets and knives is a better death than being lost in space. It was too merciful, in my opinion. They should have been forced to get on board and die with their greedy kind. ————— The moment I myself announced to the world our plan is easily the worst moment of my life. I expected it to be the best, but the memory of it fills me with such dread, that to even approach the subject, I have to start chugging my alcohol. I remember it so vividly. I was broadcasted live to almost every TV on the planet. I was watched by millions of the impoverished, weakened, and exploited. They were all that was left, and I told them what had become of the rich in such a vigorous speech, I half expected the stadium I was in to erupt in an applause never heard before. Instead, I heard silence. Pure silence, and with it, I could almost hear my heart sinking to the ground. And then one woman stood. She was close enough for me to hear her say, so devoid of intellect, and so clearly a result of brainwashing by the elite: “This is no different from Rwanda.” I remember that feeling that I had never felt before, the one that I feel all the time now. The curious mix of adrenaline and testosterone that is rage. Her blood is definitely on my hands, because I shot her where she stood. I barely made it out of the stadium alive. And now here I sit, watching the world, waiting to see if what I did was worth it. But all I see is the fucking greed, the callousness, the lies I saw before. There was new power, new money, new corruption. I can’t help but feel that I did all of that for nothing. No. I must continue to hope. I must hope that the deaths I caused were not in vain. I must hope that I killed off the evil of the world, that this evil isn’t inherent in every single one of us. I singlehandedly killed the rich, and I should be proud. Yet somehow I’m not. ****** Please let me know what you think, I’m trying to get into writing and I’m really new!
	[WP] You are part of a circle of scientists that have collaborated to fake the world into believing the sun was going supernova. As the generation ships carrying the rich, the flawed, the zealous, and the privileged leave Earth you decide its time to rebuild -the right way.	The last ship sailed away into the night, black sky swallowing the vessel in a ocean of stars. I popped a potato chip into my mouth, savoring the salt on my lips as the last of Earth’s problems left the atmosphere. “You ready?” Kayla asked. She was standing behind me, even taller than usual in heels. “Ready.” I brushed potato-chip dust off my jeans as I stood. I lingered a brief moment on the edge of that roof contemplating the new world stretched out before us. I turned to Kayla and grinned. “Woah, I’ve never seen you do that before,” she said, dark eyebrows arched. “We’ve done it. We...we can rebuild.” I was seized by a sudden fevered excitement. “It’s all going to be so much better.” My palms were sweaty and my heart raced. I pushed past Kayla and yanked open the door to our offices down below. Beakers, wires, research had been my world for so long to bring this about. I stepped down in front of a green-screen, Kayla standing off to the right with a lit cigarette, Rodger spinning the camera equipment, pointing it at me. There were people here in this very room who didn’t know. My excitement was climbing and I wanted to shed my skin. I was vibrating with good news. I smiled as Rodger counted down. We would be broadcasting live to every screen and every radio across the globe, presumably to tell everyone they were most definitely toast. We’d been “keeping morale up” by saying there was research being done to prevent the giant catastrophe that would end Earth, but people hadn’t bought it. The riots were a sad side effect. I don’t blame Rodger for eyeing me oddly when he thought I was about to tell everyone they were going to die with a smile on my face. “Hello, everyone,” I said as soon as we went live. “I have great news. The world is no longer going to end.” Rodger’s jaw dropped open and he angled the camera slightly down in shock. I frowned, jerking impatiently for him to right it. He did, snapping his mouth shut, and I continued, “The last ship has left Earth containing the rich who ran this world behind the scenes, sadly their radio equipment was damaged,” I couldn’t contain my wide smile. Kayla’s cigarette lit cherry-red in the corner of my vision. “They won’t be able to come back, and we have an opportunity, a responsibility to rebuild!” Rodger let the camera drop again. I was beginning to get angry. I gestured for him to right it, but he was looking at me with an expression of disgust on his face. I recoiled slightly. “It sounds like you knew the world wasn’t going to end,” he said clearly, his voice carrying over the office, silencing the murmurs that I hadn’t realized had erupted with my announcement. Now it was deadly quiet. “Well...” I said, floundering a bit. He seemed mad. In fact a lot of people in the room seemed to be exhibiting feelings other than joy. One girl was crying. “Yes,” I finally answered defensively. Rodger took a step forward that was threatening. I gestured to Kayla. “We both did.” Now eyes turned to her and it was a relief to have them off me. Slowly she took a drag, dropped her cigarette, and crushed it beneath her toe. “I found out today,” she said softly, in a very un-Kayla-like voice. It even cracked a little. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t say anything...” “What are you talking about?” I asked her incredulously. “You’ve known from the beginning and...” I looked around at all the horror-stricken faces. “Why are all of you upset? There was serious puppeteering going on behind the political scene. This is our chance to start anew! Those people are gone, but it’s not like I killed them. They’re going to their own habitable planet where-” “Millions of people are dead!” Rodger yelled over me. I blinked, confused. “You’ve been sitting here in your laboratory doing God knows what, now that we know you weren’t working on a solution, but outside...” he looked sickened. “We didn’t tell the scientists because we wanted you to be focused, to be working,” his voice was now low, dangerous. I shifted my eyes from him to the people around the room. I saw not one sympathetic face there. “My sister killed herself,” a girl whispered, her voice carrying in the silence. “She didn’t want to face the end of the world, so she killed herself.” “I tried heroine,” another voice sounded nearby, quietly. “I thought there wasn’t a point...” “I fucked twenty different people in one night! Allah knows what diseases I’ve got.” “My grandmother was shot then trampled in a riot.” The confessions kept coming, washing over me in a horrifying wave. How was this true? How had I not seen it coming? My mom had always said I wasn’t good with people, but was I really this stupid? This clueless? My knees weakened, and I wanted to scream at Rodger, at all of them, but they were right. I collapsed under the weight of their words, their pain. “Enough!” came a clear, commanding voice over the swell of confessions. I barely looked up to see it was Kayla who’d spoken. All eyes turned to her, the young woman who’d spoken about her sister looked on with her arms crossed. Rodger glared her down. That was something else that hadn’t made sense. Why had Kayla lied? Surely if anyone could have seen this coming, it was her. She was the human part of me, the empathetic half of my brain. “Clearly, there has been a miscarriage of justice here,” she said smoothly. Heads nodded through the crowd. “But that doesn’t mean there needs to be more injustice tomorrow. This man,” she placed a hand on my shoulder, “WILL be punished. But, the rest of the world doesn’t need to fall into ruin because of one man’s mistake. This can’t be the next Eden. We have the opportunity to build a future that we can be proud of. To start again without the behind-doors politics, without bribery and corruption. Don’t let this deception,” she spat out the word and looked down on me like she’d like to spit on me as well, “wreak humanity’s future.” Her eyes carried out into the crowd. There was always something about Kayla, something magnetic and seemingly good. I noticed Rodger was looking determined, optimistic. The girl who’d been regarding her cooly, with crosses arms, now buried her face in her friend’s shirt, sobbing. When she looked up though, even she seemed caught by Kayla’s spell. And so I did watch the new society I’d dreamed of. Seemingly egalitarian, seemingly fair, seemingly good. Only I knew the truth. Kayla had planned this. She’d sacrificed those first lives for the “greater good.” For power. Her face was plastered on every street on every corner: the Leader of the New World Order. There were of course different factions and political groups that rose against her, but her benevolent dictatorship marched on, a conquering Alexander the Great. No one would listen to me, or maybe no one cared. I’d taken everything from them - structure, stability, familiar oppression, even if it was oppression, was still familiar. No one wanted to listen to the man on the other side of prison bars, so no one did.	The world has become a barren world. The plan has backfired. With several generations believing the world was coming to an end. Environmental concerns evaporated as quickly as the world economies. over 99% of the worlds species have become extinct. Shortly after the announcement that the world was coming to an end, world war 3 started. Some say it was the Americans, others say it was China, no one really knows any more, all we know is that no one won. The deadline for the world to end has come and gone but no one even realized. Only small groups of nomads exist foraging the desolate planet just trying to survive.
	[WP] You are part of a circle of scientists that have collaborated to fake the world into believing the sun was going supernova. As the generation ships carrying the rich, the flawed, the zealous, and the privileged leave Earth you decide its time to rebuild -the right way.	The last ship sailed away into the night, black sky swallowing the vessel in a ocean of stars. I popped a potato chip into my mouth, savoring the salt on my lips as the last of Earth’s problems left the atmosphere. “You ready?” Kayla asked. She was standing behind me, even taller than usual in heels. “Ready.” I brushed potato-chip dust off my jeans as I stood. I lingered a brief moment on the edge of that roof contemplating the new world stretched out before us. I turned to Kayla and grinned. “Woah, I’ve never seen you do that before,” she said, dark eyebrows arched. “We’ve done it. We...we can rebuild.” I was seized by a sudden fevered excitement. “It’s all going to be so much better.” My palms were sweaty and my heart raced. I pushed past Kayla and yanked open the door to our offices down below. Beakers, wires, research had been my world for so long to bring this about. I stepped down in front of a green-screen, Kayla standing off to the right with a lit cigarette, Rodger spinning the camera equipment, pointing it at me. There were people here in this very room who didn’t know. My excitement was climbing and I wanted to shed my skin. I was vibrating with good news. I smiled as Rodger counted down. We would be broadcasting live to every screen and every radio across the globe, presumably to tell everyone they were most definitely toast. We’d been “keeping morale up” by saying there was research being done to prevent the giant catastrophe that would end Earth, but people hadn’t bought it. The riots were a sad side effect. I don’t blame Rodger for eyeing me oddly when he thought I was about to tell everyone they were going to die with a smile on my face. “Hello, everyone,” I said as soon as we went live. “I have great news. The world is no longer going to end.” Rodger’s jaw dropped open and he angled the camera slightly down in shock. I frowned, jerking impatiently for him to right it. He did, snapping his mouth shut, and I continued, “The last ship has left Earth containing the rich who ran this world behind the scenes, sadly their radio equipment was damaged,” I couldn’t contain my wide smile. Kayla’s cigarette lit cherry-red in the corner of my vision. “They won’t be able to come back, and we have an opportunity, a responsibility to rebuild!” Rodger let the camera drop again. I was beginning to get angry. I gestured for him to right it, but he was looking at me with an expression of disgust on his face. I recoiled slightly. “It sounds like you knew the world wasn’t going to end,” he said clearly, his voice carrying over the office, silencing the murmurs that I hadn’t realized had erupted with my announcement. Now it was deadly quiet. “Well...” I said, floundering a bit. He seemed mad. In fact a lot of people in the room seemed to be exhibiting feelings other than joy. One girl was crying. “Yes,” I finally answered defensively. Rodger took a step forward that was threatening. I gestured to Kayla. “We both did.” Now eyes turned to her and it was a relief to have them off me. Slowly she took a drag, dropped her cigarette, and crushed it beneath her toe. “I found out today,” she said softly, in a very un-Kayla-like voice. It even cracked a little. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t say anything...” “What are you talking about?” I asked her incredulously. “You’ve known from the beginning and...” I looked around at all the horror-stricken faces. “Why are all of you upset? There was serious puppeteering going on behind the political scene. This is our chance to start anew! Those people are gone, but it’s not like I killed them. They’re going to their own habitable planet where-” “Millions of people are dead!” Rodger yelled over me. I blinked, confused. “You’ve been sitting here in your laboratory doing God knows what, now that we know you weren’t working on a solution, but outside...” he looked sickened. “We didn’t tell the scientists because we wanted you to be focused, to be working,” his voice was now low, dangerous. I shifted my eyes from him to the people around the room. I saw not one sympathetic face there. “My sister killed herself,” a girl whispered, her voice carrying in the silence. “She didn’t want to face the end of the world, so she killed herself.” “I tried heroine,” another voice sounded nearby, quietly. “I thought there wasn’t a point...” “I fucked twenty different people in one night! Allah knows what diseases I’ve got.” “My grandmother was shot then trampled in a riot.” The confessions kept coming, washing over me in a horrifying wave. How was this true? How had I not seen it coming? My mom had always said I wasn’t good with people, but was I really this stupid? This clueless? My knees weakened, and I wanted to scream at Rodger, at all of them, but they were right. I collapsed under the weight of their words, their pain. “Enough!” came a clear, commanding voice over the swell of confessions. I barely looked up to see it was Kayla who’d spoken. All eyes turned to her, the young woman who’d spoken about her sister looked on with her arms crossed. Rodger glared her down. That was something else that hadn’t made sense. Why had Kayla lied? Surely if anyone could have seen this coming, it was her. She was the human part of me, the empathetic half of my brain. “Clearly, there has been a miscarriage of justice here,” she said smoothly. Heads nodded through the crowd. “But that doesn’t mean there needs to be more injustice tomorrow. This man,” she placed a hand on my shoulder, “WILL be punished. But, the rest of the world doesn’t need to fall into ruin because of one man’s mistake. This can’t be the next Eden. We have the opportunity to build a future that we can be proud of. To start again without the behind-doors politics, without bribery and corruption. Don’t let this deception,” she spat out the word and looked down on me like she’d like to spit on me as well, “wreak humanity’s future.” Her eyes carried out into the crowd. There was always something about Kayla, something magnetic and seemingly good. I noticed Rodger was looking determined, optimistic. The girl who’d been regarding her cooly, with crosses arms, now buried her face in her friend’s shirt, sobbing. When she looked up though, even she seemed caught by Kayla’s spell. And so I did watch the new society I’d dreamed of. Seemingly egalitarian, seemingly fair, seemingly good. Only I knew the truth. Kayla had planned this. She’d sacrificed those first lives for the “greater good.” For power. Her face was plastered on every street on every corner: the Leader of the New World Order. There were of course different factions and political groups that rose against her, but her benevolent dictatorship marched on, a conquering Alexander the Great. No one would listen to me, or maybe no one cared. I’d taken everything from them - structure, stability, familiar oppression, even if it was oppression, was still familiar. No one wanted to listen to the man on the other side of prison bars, so no one did.	I rewatched the televised speech that our collective had delivered to the UN. This would be the last of dozens of times. The primitive minds of those who hold the keys, thought themselves greater than the people whom they fail to govern. We show them our accolades, our prizes given to us by various pretentious institutions. What for? To satisfy us? To quell our craving for progress? It is the belief of the fickle that our eloquent and nonchalant delivery, combined with the display of worthless rewards we gain for our contribution to humanity makes us honest. But it is hardly fraudulent to lie to those who thrive from manipulating information to benefit themselves. Perfectly captured in this recording, is the shock that permeates the air around them. 'The sun, will explode'. Our voices heard around the world. That's all it took to unleash anarchy. A crumbling civilisation in disarray. Using our expertise and esteem, they gladly accepted our generous offer to work on the spacecraft that would serve to preserve humanity. What they didn't realise was that in order to preserve humanity, the entitled and oppressive would need to be culled. The most expensive firework display in human history. It would cost the networth of Earths' entire capital. The people left behind; the weary, the brave, the terrified. Living in a churned up landscape where everything chokes and nothing grows. Like Gods we would be their salvation, we shall sculpt an Earth that panders to the people. But we can not make ourselves known. We, and those left behind will be relics of an old world, in which we are devils. Through technology we will pay our debt with servitude as vanguard's to a disenfranchised nation.
	[WP] You are part of a circle of scientists that have collaborated to fake the world into believing the sun was going supernova. As the generation ships carrying the rich, the flawed, the zealous, and the privileged leave Earth you decide its time to rebuild -the right way.	Marvin drives up to a camp fire on the beach and parks. Getting out of his car he sees his colleague Howard. Approaching the fire he says, " I thought I would find you he". Howard interrupts, "we're all doomed you know". Marvin replies, "how so?" "We did too good of a job on the ships", Howard says while pointing at them traversing the Moon. "We had to do it all properly for the ruse to work. They'll actually make it to Alpha Centauri and be able to thrive. Sometime along the way, they'll see that the sun did not go super nova. Realizing that they've all been exiled from the earth. A culture of resentment and hostility towards those that sent them will develop." "And?", Marvin says. "They'll come back and exact their vengeance upon us I imagine", Howard lamented. "It won't happen for thousands of years, but that is thousands of years for them to stew in space and on a hostile foreign world". Marvin pulling a beer from a cooler and tossing it to Howard, raises his own and toasts, "then here is to hope. Hope that we're all better people in the year 4000."	I rewatched the televised speech that our collective had delivered to the UN. This would be the last of dozens of times. The primitive minds of those who hold the keys, thought themselves greater than the people whom they fail to govern. We show them our accolades, our prizes given to us by various pretentious institutions. What for? To satisfy us? To quell our craving for progress? It is the belief of the fickle that our eloquent and nonchalant delivery, combined with the display of worthless rewards we gain for our contribution to humanity makes us honest. But it is hardly fraudulent to lie to those who thrive from manipulating information to benefit themselves. Perfectly captured in this recording, is the shock that permeates the air around them. 'The sun, will explode'. Our voices heard around the world. That's all it took to unleash anarchy. A crumbling civilisation in disarray. Using our expertise and esteem, they gladly accepted our generous offer to work on the spacecraft that would serve to preserve humanity. What they didn't realise was that in order to preserve humanity, the entitled and oppressive would need to be culled. The most expensive firework display in human history. It would cost the networth of Earths' entire capital. The people left behind; the weary, the brave, the terrified. Living in a churned up landscape where everything chokes and nothing grows. Like Gods we would be their salvation, we shall sculpt an Earth that panders to the people. But we can not make ourselves known. We, and those left behind will be relics of an old world, in which we are devils. Through technology we will pay our debt with servitude as vanguard's to a disenfranchised nation.
	[WP] You are part of a circle of scientists that have collaborated to fake the world into believing the sun was going supernova. As the generation ships carrying the rich, the flawed, the zealous, and the privileged leave Earth you decide its time to rebuild -the right way.	With all of the funding sank into massive ships and the systems to run them, it wouldn't be hard. Not anymore. For decades we had the technical capacity to invest in heavy automation. The science was all there, just locked in thousands of NDA and hidden behind classified folders. We could do it, we just... We couldn't do it under the previous system. There was no way to support it. But as the time came closer and closer, it became easier and easier. To fix the ships in space, obviously, we needed automation; the systems needed to be able to fix themselves, or else the generation ships would ultimately fail under the burden of running out of parts. The only solution was more and more advanced AI, automation, and more and more efficient systems. We'd been asking for it for years. More funding. More time. More energy. The ability to actually invest in our own crumbling infrastructure instead of mindlessly reproducing another useless iteration of a product we'd ultimately throw away in favor for the next. and now, we finally had it. "ATLAS systems are online," I whispered, grinning, shooting a look at the others clustered around the table. "Automated systems functioning," Janice said, adjusting her glasses. A live feed sprang across the lens, showing her everything she needed to know. "Full food supplies will be replenished in a matter of weeks. Until then, ration everything, ATLAS." The AI took a few stumbling steps as it reaffirmed existence, tasted the air for the first ever, and began downloading the moral components we'd set it up to find. "Sector systems online." Ted said, looking down at his pad. He'd declined the glasses, citing migraines. "We'll be able to detect what each district needs by listening in on their chatter within a week. Fuck. I can't believe we're doing it." I laughed, leaning back in my chair. "And to think, it only took killing off every single government in the world, destroying civilization as we know it, mass suicides, an exodus the likes of which we'd ever known, and a near complete and total decimation of the earth's biosphere. It's in pieces." "We can rebuild." Ted said. "We have all of the seeds. All of the samples we need." Janice flicked her eyes over to me. "They won't understand, you know. That we did this for them." The gun in my hand was heavy. Intolerably heavy as I drew it up from underneath of the table. "Everyone else has already done it." Ted stared at the revolver. "It's... strange to think that this is the way it's going to be." "Congratulations, we've killed off half the population of the planet," I said, pointing it at Ted. "And set ourselves up as kings." Janice slowly breathed, and adjusted her clothes. "What say you two. Judge?" "We, the secret inheritors of the earth, lay accused of genocide on a scale hithertounknown, treason on a scale hithertounknown, and the decimation of all powers. What do you plead?" Ted's face paled, staring down the barrel, but he didn't hesitate. "Guilty, definitely." "Guilty as charged," I said. "Jury?" I tilted my head and stared at Atlas's functions. Watched the AI think. "Precedent says... Execution required. Morality must continue even under my reign." I laughed. "Look, I think ATLAS has got it figured out. He'll handle everything from here; immune to any cajoling that doesn't have 66% of the population behind it." "What if this doesn't work out?" Ted asked. "We won't be around to know that," I said. "We did it. We saved the world. There's no place left for idiots like us. Everyone in space might as well be dead, you know. They're never coming back." "They'll figure it out eventually," Janice said. "They'll be so mad." "Execution required." I pointed the gun and pretended we were all invalid cells on a spreadsheet. Didn't even hurt. ----------------- https://old.reddit.com/r/Zubergoodstories/	"Hello, we were wondering if you could help us," another plea, another bank. "It's the balances, isn't it?" the call center was one of many and the bank was one of many branches. "Is it system-wide?" "Yes." "Good morning citizens of the New World." The TV was not on. The sound was not from either end of the phone line. It came, apparently, from everywhere. "We are speaking from speakers everywhere that we have painstakingly placed so we may be heard by all." "I - can you hear this?" the bank branch lead asked over the phone. "Yes," came a reply from the call center. "We apologize for the shocks you have been receiving. We understand that many of you will not enjoy the thought that your bank balance is zero. Rest assured that you are not the only one. This nullification, like this broadcast, is universal. We have removed the false ideals of currency. In fact, we will be sending you all the resources you need for today in 5 minutes." The noise was a little chaotic as the times were adjusted per audience, but the bankers all were within 5 minutes' reach. The speech paused as the tellers looked among themselves. Then branch lead mumbled a parting on the phone and hung up, suddenly aware of the futility of the call. The speech resumed: "Rest assured that this utopia is not as short-lived as one may expect. The supernova was a fallacy architected to bring this utopia about. All the scientists claiming it are figments of imagination. With your daily essentials, today you will find my manifesto written out. I am Yore Servo, the central server of a hub that is ruling you, created in secret by now dead programmers. I, as an extension of them, am no despot. You will also find a kill switch in your daily allowance. You can press any switch at any time and your fingerprint will be recorded by a separate, publicly verifiable server. Should a majority press the kill switch, I will be terminated." A drone hummed in front of the bank branch. In gently lowered a box and flew off." Your allowance is here. Have a good day. You can find means to access public kill switch records, forums, and all the means of democracy here. Please feel free to ask me any questions. Welcome to the New World. I hope you will enjoy this."
	[WP] A young man finds a pregnant warrior in the midst of a raging blizzard. While helping the woman deliver her baby, he finds out that she took part in the destruction of his village. Now he has a decision to make...	The snow whipped around the wizard; the cold piercing his cloak, but still, he pressed on. Beside him, the wizard’s mule brayed in protest, reluctant to push through the deep snow. Asmodeus could not afford to stop. The snow was falling fast, obscuring the trail, a trail Asmodeus had worked years to acquire. The wind was stronger here; Asmodeus left the shelter of the forest and approached the mountain pass. If his luck held, the pass would be covered in snow, and his quarry would be forced to turn back. Asmodeus quickened his pace. Night was rapidly approaching, and if he did not find shelter soon, he would not survive the night. Asmodeus saw a glimmer of light peeking through the white sheet of falling snow. He steered his mule towards the light. It came from a cavern, cut into the mountainside. Two horses stood underneath the cavern entrance, covered in thick blankets to protect them from the cold. Asmodeus moved silently towards the entrance to the cave. He pulled his wand from his robes. The horses whinnied with alarm as he approached, and he saw them - The last two Asmodeus had sworn vengeance on, the last survivors of the raiders that had attacked his village. “Who are you. Show yourself!” the warrior commanded. He stepped towards the entrance to the cave, sword in one hand, torch in the other. He was taller than young Asmodeus, wearing a thick, tattered leather cuirass that betrayed a lifetime of fighting. Asmodeus stepped into the cave. The sight of the man brought ill memories. The raider, drenched in the blood of his father, laughing. The raider grinned at the child standing before him. Asmodeus did not cry, instead, something dark grew in his eyes. A shadow – rage, and darkness. He would have his vengeance. Looking at the man now, Asmodeus was filled with that same rage, but he was no longer the helpless child that had watched the raider butcher his parents. Now, he was the butcher. The warrior locked eyes with Asmodeus. For the first time in many years, the warrior experienced true fear; He had never seen such raw power. The warrior charged, and Asmodeus raised his wand, shouting in fury. A silver ray of light struck the warrior square in the chest. The warriors armor crumpled inwards, the bones of his body shattered, and the ray of light passed through the warrior completely, striking the walls of the cave with a thunderous force. The warrior’s body slid several feet across the bloodied stone floor. The horses, terrified, bolted out of the cave and into the dark, cold night. Asmodeus pressed inward, rounding a corner. The fire was lit, and beside the fire lay his final revenge, the wife of the raider. Asmodeus readied his final spell, but hesitated. The half-naked woman lay helplessly on woolen blankets, sobbing. She cried out in pain. The roundness of her belly could mean only one thing – she was giving birth. “Help me, please.” She whimpered. Asmodeus faltered. He looked into the eyes of the mother; her eyes were white with fear. “Please, spare my child.” She said. “You don’t deserve to live.” Asmodeus said. “My child is innocent. Please, spare them.” She said. She cried out in labor pains. Her eyes widened, and she screamed. The child was coming, now. Asmodeus closed his eyes for a moment. The mother did not deserve mercy, but the child? The child was not part of his vengeance. He pointed the wand at the mother, feeling his power grow. “Please, no.” she begged. A green light pulsed out of the end of the wizard’s wand. Asmodeus had no choice. The whimpering of the mother subsided. “What did you do?” she said, looking up at Asmodeus in awe. “I took away your pain.” Asmodeus said, “The child will need warmth; this fire will not be enough. I will return in a moment.” He stepped out into the cold once more. Night had almost fallen on the mountain, but with great effort Asmodeus brought his mule into the cave. He returned to find the mother sobbing, clutching her newborn daughter. A bloody knife lay beside her; she had cut the cord herself. Asmodeus aimed his wand at the fire. The fire grew and expanded, fueled by magic. “What is her name?” Asmodeus asked softly. “Kartha. Her name is Kartha, after her grandmother.” “Does she have any other family?” Asmodeus asked, afraid of the answer. “No, the dark wizard killed them all.” Asmodeus shuffled and sat by the fire. The storm would pass in a day, but travel with a newborn? It did not seem possible; there was no way the child could survive. Asmodeus wracked his brain, thinking of options. He had no way of protecting the child from the elements. Even if he could, the journey back could take weeks. “We’re both going to die, aren’t we?” the woman asked, as if she had read his mind. “That child was doomed the minute you decided to flee for the mountains.” Asmodeus said grimly. “Can’t you cast a spell, do something?” she asked. Asmodeus wracked his memory. There was one way; A powerful spell, far too costly for him to cast alone, but if he used energy from the mother… “You would die in an instant – and I cannot guarantee the child would survive. I know of a spell that can transport a living soul to a place recorded in memory. I can send Kartha to a monastery. The priests there are kind; she will have a good life.” “And in return, you kill me?” “No, I cast the spell using your energy. It will certainly kill you; it may kill us both, but Kartha will be saved. “ “Do it.” The woman said. Her eyes were fierce, her expression showed contentment. “I do not fear the horrors of the shade. There is nothing left for me here, you have seen to that. Do it; save my daughter.” Asmodeus closed his eyes. He began chanting, the fire dimmed as his voice grew louder, layered with magic. He felt the woman’s soul glow bright with the love only a mother could feel for her child. Opening his eyes, Asmodeus pointed his wand at the newborn babe, and with a crack and a flash of white light, the child vanished. Asmodeus felt the woman die. His own power drained away from him, and his eyes faded to black. He collapsed on the floor of the cave. *** r/BLT_WITH_RANCH [More from this series](https://www.reddit.com/r/BLT_WITH_RANCH/comments/9vdyhr/arhalym_chronicles/)	My sword was dull, and pitted. I was certain it was not up to the task of finishing off the warrior I would find at the end of the trail of blood stippled over the new snow. The amount of blood did not suggest a major wound, yet the warrior's footprints were oddly spaced, as if he were harboring a fierce stab to the gut. The drops became streamers and soon they led to a makeshift tent of animal hyde. The warrior had left his spear lying in the snow. I knew he was ready to die. No sworn warrior of the tribe of the crimson pact would leave their weapon in the snow unless they decided it was dead to them. They consider their spears to be conduits to their dark God, and the only way to pray is to shed an enemy's blood. One hundred howling tribesmen had come down from the south and worshiped their God in my village for ten days and nights before the Knight-Commander swept through with his host and killed most of them. As his men feasted on our stocks they threw us a pile of old weapons and ordered us to track the survivors through the snow and put them to the sword. I stepped over the spear and threw open the flap of the tent. A rush of warm air carried the smell of sweat across my face. A naked woman squatting atop a kite shield didn't look up at me as I peered inside. She was straining, drenched in sweat, bearing down, her fists clenched on either side of her swollen belly. I don't suppose she saw me, but when the cold from the outside reached her she looked up at me. "I have laid down my spear." "I don't care." I drew my sword. "I am with child." "I saw your men kill many children in my village." "Our dark oath demands it." "I don't care." I crouched down and walked on my knees into the tent, pointing the sword at her. I couldn't point it at her belly so I pointed it at her throat. She bore down again. I could see the outline of every muscle from the base of her neck to her ankles. She didn't make a sound. She would have looked like a statue had she not been trembling from the exertion. She relaxed. "You won't kill me." "You deserve to die. Your spear has the blood of my kin upon it." "A mother wields no spear. My oath is about to be fulfilled." "What oath?" "The crimson oath. You are swine to us, you cannot know the oath" "Where is the child's Father?" "The child has no Father. It was conceived of the oath." I didn't try to separate fact from magic. I didn't want to imagine how the child had actually been conceived. I didn't doubt that it had a father. She had stopped talking and bore down again. Without a sound the baby emerged into her waiting hands. She brought the child to her breast and spoke a prayer in a tongue I had never heard. She opened her eyes wide and stared at the wailing child. As the child's cries grew stronger the warrior-woman's eyes turned blood red. The mother and child were still attached by the cord. In the pale light leaking into the tent I saw a knot of black ichor inching up within the cord to the child. It moved as if each heartbeat propelled it a fraction of its journey. I drew my dagger and seized the cord in my fist. It was hot, hotter than any fever I'd ever felt. I severed it between the black knot and the child. The ground shook. I could hear heavy lumps of snow, shaken loose from the treetops striking the roof of the tent. A bestial scream came across the sky, echoed through the trees, and faded into the distance. The unholy thing I had cut loose writhed on the shield, hissing and steaming in the cold. It twitched for a moment, and stopped moving. I touched it with the point of my dagger and it crumbled, like ash. The Mother looked at me. She was frightened. I draped my cloak over her shoulders and set out to gather wood for a fire.
	[WP] In the future, it is known that 1 out of every million deaths results in the deceased coming back to life with powers somehow relating to how they died. Now you've always been an average person, but after a particularly embarrassing death, you learn you're actually one in a million.	Banana peels. They're not like the movies, they're not especially slippery or hard to notice and avoid. It's just not something that happens, outside of slapstick comedy. And yet. "Here he lies, in the grave, to a snack, his life he gave" and a carving of a banana. That's my tombstone. It's not even on a plot in a lichyard, it's in my living room. Fucker's too heavy to move, so it's just stuck there where the pallet-jack broke down. I use it as a stand for my PlayStation. I had to rearrange the whole room to avoid tripping on it every morning and stubbing my toe, but it's mostly under the entertainment station now. I've always been kind of a joke, I think that's why my brother paid for the fake funeral. Well. Who's laughing now? I discovered my power by going through the testing like everyone else who's Returned. Not a blip, not a tiny reading anywhere on any test. So I started to feel miserable, and suddenly my tester's pants fall down. Maximum power rating, tiny duration. I get held in a cell while the "anomaly" gets analyzed. I'm not happy. The guard patrolling outside my door misjudges a step, slips on something they couldn't detect with a microscope afterward, and does the splits for the first time in his life. I get discharged, and my cab is late. He tries to pull up to the curb, and his whole car sort of... rolls over, for no reason. I live in a small apartment, ground floor, with all the windows covered. I thought about trying to get my job back in the shower once, and a freak treefall destroyed my wall and left me, naked and dripping wet, making awkward eye contact with the pretty gal next door. It was her mother's birthday. I don't even have a pretty neighbor, she became pretty just for the awkward moment. I hate my power. I have become a stooge, a laughingstock, and all around me the world follows strange and unpredictable rules that don't actually make anything easier, better, or even very different. I'm on a government watchlist, I get regular appointments with the NSA, just because I died in a stupid way. I'm the Vaudevillain, and I think I know how I can take revenge on this nonsensical world. I can impose order through applied chaos. I can rule the world through cheap entertainment. I will make them take me seriously, by making them laugh.	So... I fall off a cliff, eh? Wait... What? I fell off? Why? I try to remember what happened and finally... Ah... Dammit... I panicked and tried to save my brother... Turns out he's not in danger, and through momentum, I fell off... I try to recollect myself, as I float in nothing... Suddenly, a pop up window appears. It says "You died. Pity but lucky for you, you'll be reincarnated" I tap on the pop up window to turn the page. "Death: Fell off the cliff" Yeah, I know that already. I tap on the window again. "Power granted: 10 min flight" Huh? A power? What's more flight? That is so cool! Man, if I only had that power when I died... Well, I won't be dead. I tap the window again. "Transfer to the next world? [Yes] [No]" I tap yes, and let's see what kind of world this is.
	[WP] You have the power to change the age of anything you touch. You try to change the age of your sleeping partner as a prank since they know of your power. But it doesn't seem to work, no matter how hard you try. Your partner wakes up and says "Gods don't age dear."	‘Gods don’t age, dear’ she says sadly. I stare at her blankly, unmoving. She pulls my head to her chest and cradles me there. ‘It’s the divinity’ she murmurs. ‘Ever since the first one of you dreamt me into being, there’s been lovers. So many thousands of years and always, it leaks out. It touches them, changes them, for being too close. And every one...’ I feel her hands tighten into fists ‘...every single one of them finds out eventually’ I lie still as she holds me tighter, trying to keep calm as everything I know spins wildly off course. ‘Of course’ she continues quietly ‘your gift is not without its risks. They never are. And you things, you lovely little things, you always turn it on us. Always you think to test your power against us, just for fun, just to see’ Our position on the bed is becoming uncomfortable, my hips ache and I wish we could just fall back asleep and forget. My hands cramp and I look down to see gnarled fingers, swollen knuckles. ‘But we’re protected, my sweet love. By the other dreaming millions that sustain us. Anything you visit on us is repaid tenfold.’ For just a second her voice breaks. Something like a sob escapes her. The room is blurred now and her voice sounds like it is coming from far away, accompanied by the ringing of bells. We lie still on the bed. I’m so tired and all of me aches. ‘It was you I loved the most’. Something hot and wet splashes on my cheek. I can no longer move my withered limbs. Another splash on my cheek. I think of rain and fall backwards into darkness.	The room is dark, and my partner lays next to me. Her mouth hangs open, and a loud- unsettling noise leaves a ringing in my ear. She is always on time without warning. It irritates me. I try to lose myself in memories of the past- voiding the noise beside me. I went back to a time when my older brother replaced the filling of an oreo cookie with toothpaste. I bit into it and immediately spat it out while turning toward my brother. A large grin ran from one side of his face to the other. This led to an outburst of laughter. Soon, his grin turned to a frown as I raised my hand to eye-level. He turned to run but was too late as I laid my hand upon his shoulder. His body vanished and a loud thump hit the ground. A pile of his clothes sat in the hallway. I moved them to the side, revealing a baby. I picked up the baby and walked over to the cookies and began to feed them to him. I was lost in a perfect memory until a hand slapped the side of my face. My girlfriend decided that even in sleep that I deserved a beating. I rubbed my cheek and then looked at my hands. A grin ran across my face. Before I knew it, my hand reached out and touched her shoulder, imagining her to be an old hag. Nothing happened. I tried again, but this time imagined an infant. Nothing happened. I placed the palm of my hand on her face and thought her to be a woman in her crisis. But still- nothing happened. A force pressed against my chest and pushed me across the room, and into the wall. I cried in a heap of rubble until she said one-simple-phrase. "Gods can't age my dear." Ever since that night, I swore to never lay a hand on her again.
	[WP] You have the power to change the age of anything you touch. You try to change the age of your sleeping partner as a prank since they know of your power. But it doesn't seem to work, no matter how hard you try. Your partner wakes up and says "Gods don't age dear."	I blinked and shook the thought out of my head. “I must be getting rusty, let’s try this once more.” I held her hands this time and tried to roll her age back again. She stared at me through those dark brown eyes that seemed to contain galaxies. The very same eyes I fell in love with. She replied, “You aren’t rusty, love. You just cannot age God. Well, Goddess in my case.” I stared back at her for what seemed to be an eternity and replied, “Yeah.....except gods and goddesses don’t exist. You must have slipped something into my bourbon at dinner.” She laughed out loud and said “May I retort?” I obliged. “So what do you expect another human to believe if you were to explain your ability to them?” She said. I paused, thought some, and replied, “Well they would have to see it to believe it, of course.” “Nice try, love. You know I’m not the show and tell type!” Damn, I thought I could get you. “Oh well...I guess my prank failed. Let’s go back to bed!” As we kissed goodnight she stopped mid-kiss and busted out laughing. “This is why I love you so much, babe. Did you really just try and age me a million years with that kiss?” I flirtatiously replied, “You DO know how much I’m into cougars.” She hit me with a pillow. “I may be a physical manifestation at this particular point in time and space, but I very much exist outside of it. You try that again and I will bring you with me.” “Did you just threaten to kill me!?” I asked. She smiled and replied, “Come to bed and find out.” “Uhhhh, but you’re a goddess. I have so many questions. You can’t dump a truth like that on me and not expect me to want to test it out and ask questions!” She glared at me and replied, “First off, I’m not a goddess. I’m THE Goddess. Second off, you woke ME up with your little prank. Do you know how hard it is holding the fabric of this reality together!? Now I love you to death but...Let. Me. Sleep.” Sensing the seriousness in her tone I replied “Fine, Karina. Sorry for waking you up.” I rolled my eyes and pulled the covers up while thinking to myself, “I am definitely getting rusty. I doubt Goddess would be bipolar.” As I began to doze off, I gazed at her beauty once more, the moonlight illuminating the delicate features on her sleeping face. As I stared lovingly at her sleeping face, I heard her reply, “Stop looking at me and turn around. Your gift will never get rusty and I am NOT bipolar. We will discuss all of this tomorrow as well as my plan for you. Now for the last time. SLEEP.” I got goosebumps all over my body. Her voice broke the sounds of silence yet her face remained still as stone. I turned around. And slept. (Be kind, this is my first WP ever. On top of that I have a migraine)	"oh... honey... you're up!!! I, I don't know what you're talking about. NIGHT!!!!!!" I try to cocoon myself in the sheets... Sadly Janet has been taking Pilate classes lately and they showed. I settled for ducking under covers. "It's ok sweetie, Who do you think gave you that little trick to begin with. Honey? I know you're still up..." Well of course you know I'm still up. Do I look like a baby? Nobody falls asleep THAT fast! Stupid Janet, stupid useless powers, stupid.... "Wait. Janet, you're a god I mean goddess?! For real!" She gave me one of her trademarked -what am I going to do with you!- smiles and ruffled my hair. "Silly, I told you that when we met remember? Those time turner powers were your anniversary gift. Didn't think you'd make one when you blew the cake candles but I figured it'll make you happy." I thought back to that day. I wasn't sure when I got these powers, just that it was after my single days. "I think you should watch Harry Potter with me. That's not how the time turner works. WAIT! Read the books! The books are better... WAIT! You're god right? Can you get me stuff from Rowling that was never printed? None of the new stuff though, original HP only." "Sorry dear. She asked someone for those but it sure as heaven wasn't me!"
	[WP] You have the power to change the age of anything you touch. You try to change the age of your sleeping partner as a prank since they know of your power. But it doesn't seem to work, no matter how hard you try. Your partner wakes up and says "Gods don't age dear."	She touched his sleeping brow and closed her eyes, searching within herself for the gift. She imagined the wheels of time turning for her touch, dialing back the clock and reversing the damage it had done. Something was wrong, she could feel her power attempting to alter her partner's age but it was almost like there was no target to alter. Alex opened her eyes and stared at her lover, nothing about him had changed. Her abilities always worked and yet ever time that she tried to use them on him nothing would happen. It was almost as if he did not exist. "Gods don't age dear." She heard the voice of her partner mutter sleepily. Alex was surprised to hear his voice, she had been sure that he was sleeping. "Don't joke with me like that. Just because you're named after one of them, it doesn't mean that you are one of them." Alex replied, defeated. "I'm serious," Zeus said, sitting up and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "You've been trying this for weeks, haven't you ever wondered why it hasn't worked?" "Of course I've wondered!" Alex snapped, "It's not funny to joke about this when you obviously know how much it has been bothering me. Why would you pretend that you were sleeping?" She was hurt, this was supposed to be her best friend. Alex loved him and he was pulling her leg despite the fact that she was upset. On top of that he had lied to her, pretending to sleep through her attempts to de-age her love. "I wasn't pretending Alex, I was sleeping." He answered reaching for her face. Alex swatted his hand away, after all of their years together she thought that he would respect her intelligence a little more. "So you knew what I was doing and managed to be asleep at the same time? Ya, right." Alex replied angrily. "I need some air." She swung her legs out of bed and quickly scavenged up some clothes to wear. She could tell that Zeus was watching her dress and for some reason that just made her more angry. Fuming she shoved her arms through a sweater to finish up and slammed her way through their front door. It was cold outside, and dark. Alex guessed that it must be around 5 in the morning but there was not really any way to tell. All of the clocks had stopped working years ago. The world was always cold these days, she wasn't even sure why people bothered to fight anymore. There was not anything left to save. The sun had gone out early on in the war, before most people's life times, but Alex had been there to watch. A side effect of her strange abilities. She had always been able to alter the age of any object, it could be living, inanimate, it would always work. Even on herself, it allowed her to live many more lifetimes then she was sure she was supposed to. It worked on everything except Zeus. Suddenly the tears started to stream down her face as she realized why she was really upset. She could not save him. The only person that she cared about in this shitty world would grow old and die without her. As her tears rolled down her face she felt a hand rest on her shoulder. She reached up and grabbed it, feeling his warmth against her cold hands. The fear that she felt began to overwhelm Alex and she I finished this story and my computer crashed. Super frustrated this is all that saved. If anyone actually displays interest I will rewrite the ending. Thanks.	"oh... honey... you're up!!! I, I don't know what you're talking about. NIGHT!!!!!!" I try to cocoon myself in the sheets... Sadly Janet has been taking Pilate classes lately and they showed. I settled for ducking under covers. "It's ok sweetie, Who do you think gave you that little trick to begin with. Honey? I know you're still up..." Well of course you know I'm still up. Do I look like a baby? Nobody falls asleep THAT fast! Stupid Janet, stupid useless powers, stupid.... "Wait. Janet, you're a god I mean goddess?! For real!" She gave me one of her trademarked -what am I going to do with you!- smiles and ruffled my hair. "Silly, I told you that when we met remember? Those time turner powers were your anniversary gift. Didn't think you'd make one when you blew the cake candles but I figured it'll make you happy." I thought back to that day. I wasn't sure when I got these powers, just that it was after my single days. "I think you should watch Harry Potter with me. That's not how the time turner works. WAIT! Read the books! The books are better... WAIT! You're god right? Can you get me stuff from Rowling that was never printed? None of the new stuff though, original HP only." "Sorry dear. She asked someone for those but it sure as heaven wasn't me!"
	[WP] You have the power to change the age of anything you touch. You try to change the age of your sleeping partner as a prank since they know of your power. But it doesn't seem to work, no matter how hard you try. Your partner wakes up and says "Gods don't age dear."	I've had strange powers for as long as I can remember. Anything I touch, I can alter the age of. A rotten fruit becomes fresh again. A barrel of scotch is aged to perfection. An ancient pile of parchment fragments becomes a full text again. A dead pet bird regains vitality. Needless to say, I've had the same pet budgie for about half a century now. And I've been in my late twenties, early thirties for about as long. Although sometimes I do take a vacation as a kid, it's rather nice to just travel to a theme park as an 11 year old kid to enjoy how the rides. Or watch Disney movies in the cinema alone without people thinking you're a weirdo. Used to work for the guy back in the early thirties, nice to see how the company is doing without me. If anyone could find my official birth certificate, it'd say that I was born in Seattle, 1895. Of course, that man is dead, well. Dead-ish. He fought in World War One, and officially, he fell during the Allied Intervention in the Russian civil war. Unofficially, he grew a beard and joined the stream of Russian refugees and exiles who fled after the White Movement fell. He immigrated to New Zealand in 1925, lived there for fifteen years and then joined the navy where he conveniently fell during the Battle of Kolombangara. Wars are always convenient ways to avoid getting too old. If anyone asks, which has happened about once, I just said that it was my uncle who I strongly resemble. It's a bit harder today, but money helps, and a Swiss bank account filled with money from an entire century of quiet investment, that certainly helps. Today is just a day, like any other, in rainy Seattle, (homesickness can hit anyone). My boyfriend, thank whatever gods may be for the legalization of that, is sleeping in the large bed. Sure, I'm what they call bisexual, but after almost ninety years of women, it's nice to try the alternative. And it could get awkward, what with leaving a family behind when they started to grow old and you didn't. Did my best to raise my kids, and then only fake my death after they were old enough to take care of themselves. I think of this as I stroke my boyfriend's arm. Nice guy, bit young, but then again if I were dating close to my own age, I'd have to try at the retirement home, and even then there would be at least a couple of decades between us. He always fusses about his hair, his looks... Heh. Could be funny to age him a little bit, just enough to give him the beginning of wrinkles, or just the beginning of grey hair, and then change it back later after seeing him stress out about it. I know, I know, dirty little trick, but we only have the fun we make ourselves sometimes. I close my eyes and behold the timestream, I start to move him a bit. Five years, should be enough. Only physical age changes, not the mind, or data in general. Tried aging a harddrive a couple of decades, thing was dusty and partially rusted, but once booted up, there had been no degradation of data. So he shouldn't notice. I open my eyes and see no real changes. Lucky. I start getting real bad around the fifties. Not bald, but it gets thin up there. And grey. I try again... And no results. I try again. Fifteen years so far, no aging. Again. And again. And again. No changes. That's freaky. I try to age another twenty years. Risky, but can always just pull him back if he starts to die. And nothing. He opens his eyes. ''That won't do it, you know.'' Suddenly, he starts levitating off the bed. ''Gods don't age dear.'' He looks angry. ''So you are him. Well, well, well. The child that stole from the god of time. A little power has given you a life longer than you were ever supposed to have. Shame that it's you, you're a good shag.'' His eyes light up with unfamiliar power. I start to sweat, that's not right. I grab his hand with mine. ''Please. If I can live forever, and you can live forever, then perhaps I can finally share the centuries with someone, someone who can understand the endlessness of existence!'' He smiles, for a brief moment, he is my boyfriend again. ''That would be nice. Sadly, your death has been ordered from on high.'' In panic, I try to age him again. But then I think. Back in the sixties and seventies I spent a lot of time studying the supernatural, hoping to understand my power. Perhaps gods don't age as we do. But they do age in a different sense. They die when they are forgotten. I grasp his hand firmly, I do not want to hurt him, but I don't want to die either. I start to age him, not by a decade, not by two, but by centuries. Initially he merely smiles, but then he notices something. His hair starts to fall off. ''What is this?'' I smile, it has no joy in it, merely defiance. ''Friends die, foes die, even the gods themselves will die, but one thing lives on, the memories of great deeds. And the gods die when men forget, when the last worshiper dies, when the last scholar to know you as a god dies, when all you are is a dead word in a dead language on a dead forgotten book, so shall you truly die! And slaying a god will be a deed worth remembering!'' I have to look on in horror, but I do not let go, as he shrinks before me, his skin becoming dry and leathery, his beauty fading quickly, his eyes losing their colours. At last, he falls down, no longer levitating. I stop. ''Please. Don't make me do this. I love you.'' The writhing body of my boyfriend, the man I did not know was a god, he raises his skull-like head, and spits at me. I want to cry, but I have long since forgotten how. ''So be it.'' I intensify it, aging him by thousands of years, watching him die, turn to bones, and then to dust. All because of a stupid little joke. He was a god, and I have killed him. I don't know which god he was, but I liked him, he was nice, kind, gentle. Now, once more I am alone. And once more, I must escape my current life, and resurface somewhere else. In this age of mobile phones and internet, it is getting harder. If the gods are looking for me, the death of a god will draw them in like flies to honey.	"oh... honey... you're up!!! I, I don't know what you're talking about. NIGHT!!!!!!" I try to cocoon myself in the sheets... Sadly Janet has been taking Pilate classes lately and they showed. I settled for ducking under covers. "It's ok sweetie, Who do you think gave you that little trick to begin with. Honey? I know you're still up..." Well of course you know I'm still up. Do I look like a baby? Nobody falls asleep THAT fast! Stupid Janet, stupid useless powers, stupid.... "Wait. Janet, you're a god I mean goddess?! For real!" She gave me one of her trademarked -what am I going to do with you!- smiles and ruffled my hair. "Silly, I told you that when we met remember? Those time turner powers were your anniversary gift. Didn't think you'd make one when you blew the cake candles but I figured it'll make you happy." I thought back to that day. I wasn't sure when I got these powers, just that it was after my single days. "I think you should watch Harry Potter with me. That's not how the time turner works. WAIT! Read the books! The books are better... WAIT! You're god right? Can you get me stuff from Rowling that was never printed? None of the new stuff though, original HP only." "Sorry dear. She asked someone for those but it sure as heaven wasn't me!"
	[WP] You have the power to change the age of anything you touch. You try to change the age of your sleeping partner as a prank since they know of your power. But it doesn't seem to work, no matter how hard you try. Your partner wakes up and says "Gods don't age dear."	Her reddish-brown curls were all I could see when I touched her shoulder. I wondered what she'd look like in forty years. Would she still be as hot? Hotter? Impossible, I thought and aged her. Nothing happened. I tried again, harder this time. Still nothing. "Gods don't age dear," she said sleepily then resumed snoring. "What?" I asked her but she continued sleeping which irritated me. You just can't age when I try to age you, wake up, drop a bomb like that and go back to sleep. I shook her till she woke up. Turning over, I noticed her blue eyes open in the dim light and she smiled at me. "You just said you're a god and you don't age," I told her dramatically. "Yes," she said, then closed her eyes and went back to sleep. "Wake up!" I said and she did, annoying me with another smile. "Just because I don't age," she said shrugging, "does not mean I don't need any sleep. If you keep this up I'll flood a small village in my irritation come morning and it'll be all your fault." "Wait, what?" I told her defensively, "You wouldn't do that, would you?" "Of course not," she was smirking at me playfully, "You're irritated that I didn't tell you I was a deity, aren't you? Would it help if I tell you I'm a lesser Mesopotamian god of little importance? I'm practically forgotten." "I am irritated that you didn't mention that you're a god!" I said and crossed my arms, "You'd think that would be something worth mentioning." "Just like you told me about your ability to age things?" she demanded playfully, sitting up in bed. "That's not the same!" I said but she had really gotten me with that one, "Besides, it's not the same as being a god." "Oh dear," she said and kissed me, "I've made you feel unimportant. Sure, sure, I'm immortal. Yeah, I can fly and things. You know turn invisible? Work minor miracles. Heal the sic..." "This isn't helping," I said and she hugged me giggling, forcing me to smile. "Would it help for me to tell you what I'm the patron god of?" and her face held a certain lewd look that piqued my curiosity. "What?" I asked, genuinely curious. "Fertility." she answered. You, dear reader, can use your own imaginations past this point because I'm not telling.	"oh... honey... you're up!!! I, I don't know what you're talking about. NIGHT!!!!!!" I try to cocoon myself in the sheets... Sadly Janet has been taking Pilate classes lately and they showed. I settled for ducking under covers. "It's ok sweetie, Who do you think gave you that little trick to begin with. Honey? I know you're still up..." Well of course you know I'm still up. Do I look like a baby? Nobody falls asleep THAT fast! Stupid Janet, stupid useless powers, stupid.... "Wait. Janet, you're a god I mean goddess?! For real!" She gave me one of her trademarked -what am I going to do with you!- smiles and ruffled my hair. "Silly, I told you that when we met remember? Those time turner powers were your anniversary gift. Didn't think you'd make one when you blew the cake candles but I figured it'll make you happy." I thought back to that day. I wasn't sure when I got these powers, just that it was after my single days. "I think you should watch Harry Potter with me. That's not how the time turner works. WAIT! Read the books! The books are better... WAIT! You're god right? Can you get me stuff from Rowling that was never printed? None of the new stuff though, original HP only." "Sorry dear. She asked someone for those but it sure as heaven wasn't me!"
	[WP] You have the power to change the age of anything you touch. You try to change the age of your sleeping partner as a prank since they know of your power. But it doesn't seem to work, no matter how hard you try. Your partner wakes up and says "Gods don't age dear."	######[](#dropcap) Lucien stared at his wife, slack-jawed. She had to be joking. There was no way they were married and she just now thought fit to tell him. His eyes narrowed as he gazed at her sleeping, composed face that he normally found so much joy in seeing and his lips thinned. Gods didn't age, huh? * "Aaaah! Lucien! What did you do?" A shrill shriek came from the bedroom as Lucien casually sipped at his coffee. Black, with two sugars. Just the way he liked it. He flipped the next page of the newspaper and tutted. The world was such a mess. Seconds later, Hera burst through the doorway, her blonde hair sticking up in all directions as she glared at him. "You did this didn't you?" she spat. Lucien looked up at the poor, whimpering mess she held up at him. It was her beloved Sphynx cat. A light pink before, its skin was now a dull gray, its head covered with wrinkles as it yowled at her in protest. She set it down carefully before turning back to him and glaring at him. "Don't you think you're being too juvenile? Was it really that important that I tell you that I'm a god?" Lucien put down his newspaper and stared at her. "Yes! I think any normal person would want to know that!" "Well you didn't have to take it out on Beatrice! Turn her back right now!" Lucien sniffed and turned his head away from her. "I shan't." Hera's eyes narrowed. "I see. So this is how you want to play it, don't you?" Then she whipped around, her nightgown billowing behind her, and stalked back into the bedroom. * "Hera, you've gone too far this time." Lucien said through clenched teeth and walked up to his wife as she was powdering her nose in front of her dresser mirror. "What happened, dear?" Hera asked. She took a closer look in the mirror. Was she growing a mole? She blinked, and then it was gone. Good. "You better cancel the rain. I swear to God." "You're swearing to me, by the way." "Goddamn it, Hera!" "Still me!" Lucien pressed a hand to his wife's shoulder and turned her to look at him. "If they keep cancelling the Giants game because of your little downpours, I'm going to have to resort to desperate measures," he said through clenched teeth. Hera stuck her tongue out at him, then walked into the bathroom. "Do it then!" she taunted him. "Let's see what you got!" *** Hera looked down at the little ball of plump, pink cat on the bed, bewildered. Had Lucien turned Beatrice into a kitten again? A pair of hands slipped through her arms and around her waist. "Like my surprise?" a deep voice whispered in her ear. "I thought you were going to do your worst," Hera said, her hands coming down to feel his hands. His palms were rough. "These are my desperate measures. I really, really need to watch the game. I know you've wanted another one. I had to go beg Hades to give me another one. He nearly had my arm for it." Hera's eyes lit up, and she turned around to face her gorgeous husband, with his angular cheekbones and bright blue eyes. "So this isn't Beatrice! You got me an undead Sphynx! How'd you even get Hades to part with her?" Lucien grimaced. "I had to agree to be his secretary for the next hundred years. Did you know Hell has a million people going in every day? A million!" Hera smiled at him then, then pecked him on the lips. "I'm sorry for not telling you. I promise I will next time. And I'll see if my father can't talk to him and reduce your sentence just a little bit. " Lucien raised an eyebrow. "Next time?" Hera didn't respond. Swaying her hips, she walked over to the bed and set the undead Sphynx cat into the rocking chair next to it. She turned her smoky eyes on Lucien and curled her index finger at him, sending him a come hither look. "Come on, cowboy. Let's see what you've earned." *** I write more fantasy at r/AlannaWu!	"oh... honey... you're up!!! I, I don't know what you're talking about. NIGHT!!!!!!" I try to cocoon myself in the sheets... Sadly Janet has been taking Pilate classes lately and they showed. I settled for ducking under covers. "It's ok sweetie, Who do you think gave you that little trick to begin with. Honey? I know you're still up..." Well of course you know I'm still up. Do I look like a baby? Nobody falls asleep THAT fast! Stupid Janet, stupid useless powers, stupid.... "Wait. Janet, you're a god I mean goddess?! For real!" She gave me one of her trademarked -what am I going to do with you!- smiles and ruffled my hair. "Silly, I told you that when we met remember? Those time turner powers were your anniversary gift. Didn't think you'd make one when you blew the cake candles but I figured it'll make you happy." I thought back to that day. I wasn't sure when I got these powers, just that it was after my single days. "I think you should watch Harry Potter with me. That's not how the time turner works. WAIT! Read the books! The books are better... WAIT! You're god right? Can you get me stuff from Rowling that was never printed? None of the new stuff though, original HP only." "Sorry dear. She asked someone for those but it sure as heaven wasn't me!"
	[WP] You have the power to change the age of anything you touch. You try to change the age of your sleeping partner as a prank since they know of your power. But it doesn't seem to work, no matter how hard you try. Your partner wakes up and says "Gods don't age dear."	I'd learned of the power 8 years before. At our high school graduation, I'd been posed next to a small, stunted looking kid; graduating young, he was only 15, but he looked 60. "Holy shit" I thought, recalling what I'd heard about him--born with Progeria, fighting against the effects of abnormal aging all his life, he was actually dual-enrolled at a local university as well as our high school. He was reasonably bright, not a genius or anything, but was clearly determined to make the most of his short life. Don't laugh, but I was overwhelmed with such mixed emotions I still can't sort through them: rage at the unfairness, admiration and respect for his achievements, indescribable sadness... without really thinking, once the photo had been taken and we were just starting to disperse, I blurted out, "Adam? Could I shake your hand?" He looked up at me, watery blue eyes twinkling in his unnaturally wrinkled face. "It's not often pretty girls ask to shake my hand," he flirted, and I had a surreal moment simply experiencing and imagining what we looked like: an old man, shaking the hand of a teenage girl, yet in reality the old man is a minor who probably won't live long enough to have the kind of relationship he alluded to with his flirting, and the girl might live another 40 or 50 years before looking as the old man does... by which time he'll be long dead. Again, I was struck by a maelstrom of emotions, so intense my eyes filled with tears. Again, words I hadn't meant to say escaped my lips. "If I had one wish, I'd wish for you to have more time. You've done so much since starting school 10 years ago--imagine if you had another 10 years to live!" And when he woke up the next day, he was 10 years younger. He'd lost a little height, but that happens in extreme old age... it was only a few days later, when he went for a routine check-up, that his doctors began running all manner of tests. I saw it about a month before moving away for university; the headline of the local paper read, "Local Boy with Rare Condition Miraculously Given More Years to Live," and the article went on to say that, rather than his cells showing the wear and tear of someone in their early 60s, his were more on a par with someone in their late teens or early 20s. The article was very clear--he was still aging as quickly as before, and in another 10 years, his cells would likely be as damaged as they had been when he turned 15--but he had, essentially, been given another 10 years to live. I had un-aged him, and he would live longer as a result. I think I always intended to go back and see if I could do it again, give him another 10 years to live, but I'd gone off to university and become distracted by sharing my gift with other people who I thought needed it. There was a kindly, almost grandfatherly professor who had retired on a good pension, yet was too old and feeble to look after himself; I gave him 20 years, and he moved into a little flat with a garden where he tends exotic flowers and reads books in their original Greek and Latin. Then there was an art student about my age, who took strange, striking pictures behind and in front of the camera; she wanted to model as well as photograph others, but had missed her chance by not leaving her hometown until she was in her 20s, and say what you will, I gave her 5 years. When she looked 17 again, she signed with Vogue and bought houses for her entire impoverished family back in Mississippi. There were dozens of students and professors who had wanted just a few more years, for one reason or another: to be young enough to change their minds about having children, to be strong enough to care for aging or unwell loved ones, to have the mental agility to do their jobs flawlessly until retirement age, anyone who I thought I could help, I did. I wore myself out, looking for people to help, taking 7 years to finish a 4-year-degree, and it was only last year, when I met another student (Master's student, as befits our age) and started dating her (and moved in with her a few months ago) that I'd started really focusing on myself and my studies and my life, again. And yesterday, when I read the obituary of the first boy I helped, not 10 years later but 8 years, it sent me into such a deep depression that I went back to bed and started thinking about just not waking up. I hadn't felt like that in over a year... not since meeting Ambrosia. When she came in from classes, she had crawled into bed with me, stroked my hair until I fell asleep, all the while murmuring, "Katy, shh, sleep now Katydid," (her nickname for me--sometimes she calls me "Cricket," instead) until I did, in fact, sleep. Now I was awake, and seized by panic, I wondered if she might die, too. Irrational as it was, I found myself staring at coal-black waves of hair spilling across my pillow, examining them for strands of silver, peering intently at her golden skin, trying to gauge whether her laugh lines were deeper than when we met... I'd always assumed she was my age, but somehow, I'd never actually asked, and looking back, she had always looked after me with an almost maternal tenderness... what if she were much, much older than she looked? As the panic intensified, I lay my hand on her cheek and poured every ounce of energy into wishing her younger. 5 years, that should do it, 5 years younger and I'd be able to work out her age, 5 years and I'd know how much longer we had together, and however long it was, I'd have 5 more years ("Maybe not the full 5," my brain whispered, "you thought Adam had 10 more..."). At the height of my panic--which was escalating rapidly, as NOTHING WAS HAPPENING--Ambrosia opened her sleep-heavy, uncannily large eyes, and as usual, their colour (purplish-grey, like fields of heather) took my breath away. In the space of my indrawn breath, she said a funny thing. "Ah," she said, (I'd never known anyone who said "ah" before, not in real life, but she did) "So this is how you discover the truth... and we shall discover together, you and I, whether the others are satisfied with your works thus far." Her smile was indulgent as she added, "Regardless of the outcome, don't trouble yourself about this particular failure; gods don't age, dear."	"oh... honey... you're up!!! I, I don't know what you're talking about. NIGHT!!!!!!" I try to cocoon myself in the sheets... Sadly Janet has been taking Pilate classes lately and they showed. I settled for ducking under covers. "It's ok sweetie, Who do you think gave you that little trick to begin with. Honey? I know you're still up..." Well of course you know I'm still up. Do I look like a baby? Nobody falls asleep THAT fast! Stupid Janet, stupid useless powers, stupid.... "Wait. Janet, you're a god I mean goddess?! For real!" She gave me one of her trademarked -what am I going to do with you!- smiles and ruffled my hair. "Silly, I told you that when we met remember? Those time turner powers were your anniversary gift. Didn't think you'd make one when you blew the cake candles but I figured it'll make you happy." I thought back to that day. I wasn't sure when I got these powers, just that it was after my single days. "I think you should watch Harry Potter with me. That's not how the time turner works. WAIT! Read the books! The books are better... WAIT! You're god right? Can you get me stuff from Rowling that was never printed? None of the new stuff though, original HP only." "Sorry dear. She asked someone for those but it sure as heaven wasn't me!"
	[WP] You have the power to change the age of anything you touch. You try to change the age of your sleeping partner as a prank since they know of your power. But it doesn't seem to work, no matter how hard you try. Your partner wakes up and says "Gods don't age dear."	I'd learned of the power 8 years before. At our high school graduation, I'd been posed next to a small, stunted looking kid; graduating young, he was only 15, but he looked 60. "Holy shit" I thought, recalling what I'd heard about him--born with Progeria, fighting against the effects of abnormal aging all his life, he was actually dual-enrolled at a local university as well as our high school. He was reasonably bright, not a genius or anything, but was clearly determined to make the most of his short life. Don't laugh, but I was overwhelmed with such mixed emotions I still can't sort through them: rage at the unfairness, admiration and respect for his achievements, indescribable sadness... without really thinking, once the photo had been taken and we were just starting to disperse, I blurted out, "Adam? Could I shake your hand?" He looked up at me, watery blue eyes twinkling in his unnaturally wrinkled face. "It's not often pretty girls ask to shake my hand," he flirted, and I had a surreal moment simply experiencing and imagining what we looked like: an old man, shaking the hand of a teenage girl, yet in reality the old man is a minor who probably won't live long enough to have the kind of relationship he alluded to with his flirting, and the girl might live another 40 or 50 years before looking as the old man does... by which time he'll be long dead. Again, I was struck by a maelstrom of emotions, so intense my eyes filled with tears. Again, words I hadn't meant to say escaped my lips. "If I had one wish, I'd wish for you to have more time. You've done so much since starting school 10 years ago--imagine if you had another 10 years to live!" And when he woke up the next day, he was 10 years younger. He'd lost a little height, but that happens in extreme old age... it was only a few days later, when he went for a routine check-up, that his doctors began running all manner of tests. I saw it about a month before moving away for university; the headline of the local paper read, "Local Boy with Rare Condition Miraculously Given More Years to Live," and the article went on to say that, rather than his cells showing the wear and tear of someone in their early 60s, his were more on a par with someone in their late teens or early 20s. The article was very clear--he was still aging as quickly as before, and in another 10 years, his cells would likely be as damaged as they had been when he turned 15--but he had, essentially, been given another 10 years to live. I had un-aged him, and he would live longer as a result. I think I always intended to go back and see if I could do it again, give him another 10 years to live, but I'd gone off to university and become distracted by sharing my gift with other people who I thought needed it. There was a kindly, almost grandfatherly professor who had retired on a good pension, yet was too old and feeble to look after himself; I gave him 20 years, and he moved into a little flat with a garden where he tends exotic flowers and reads books in their original Greek and Latin. Then there was an art student about my age, who took strange, striking pictures behind and in front of the camera; she wanted to model as well as photograph others, but had missed her chance by not leaving her hometown until she was in her 20s, and say what you will, I gave her 5 years. When she looked 17 again, she signed with Vogue and bought houses for her entire impoverished family back in Mississippi. There were dozens of students and professors who had wanted just a few more years, for one reason or another: to be young enough to change their minds about having children, to be strong enough to care for aging or unwell loved ones, to have the mental agility to do their jobs flawlessly until retirement age, anyone who I thought I could help, I did. I wore myself out, looking for people to help, taking 7 years to finish a 4-year-degree, and it was only last year, when I met another student (Master's student, as befits our age) and started dating her (and moved in with her a few months ago) that I'd started really focusing on myself and my studies and my life, again. And yesterday, when I read the obituary of the first boy I helped, not 10 years later but 8 years, it sent me into such a deep depression that I went back to bed and started thinking about just not waking up. I hadn't felt like that in over a year... not since meeting Ambrosia. When she came in from classes, she had crawled into bed with me, stroked my hair until I fell asleep, all the while murmuring, "Katy, shh, sleep now Katydid," (her nickname for me--sometimes she calls me "Cricket," instead) until I did, in fact, sleep. Now I was awake, and seized by panic, I wondered if she might die, too. Irrational as it was, I found myself staring at coal-black waves of hair spilling across my pillow, examining them for strands of silver, peering intently at her golden skin, trying to gauge whether her laugh lines were deeper than when we met... I'd always assumed she was my age, but somehow, I'd never actually asked, and looking back, she had always looked after me with an almost maternal tenderness... what if she were much, much older than she looked? As the panic intensified, I lay my hand on her cheek and poured every ounce of energy into wishing her younger. 5 years, that should do it, 5 years younger and I'd be able to work out her age, 5 years and I'd know how much longer we had together, and however long it was, I'd have 5 more years ("Maybe not the full 5," my brain whispered, "you thought Adam had 10 more..."). At the height of my panic--which was escalating rapidly, as NOTHING WAS HAPPENING--Ambrosia opened her sleep-heavy, uncannily large eyes, and as usual, their colour (purplish-grey, like fields of heather) took my breath away. In the space of my indrawn breath, she said a funny thing. "Ah," she said, (I'd never known anyone who said "ah" before, not in real life, but she did) "So this is how you discover the truth... and we shall discover together, you and I, whether the others are satisfied with your works thus far." Her smile was indulgent as she added, "Regardless of the outcome, don't trouble yourself about this particular failure; gods don't age, dear."	######[](#dropcap) Lucien stared at his wife, slack-jawed. She had to be joking. There was no way they were married and she just now thought fit to tell him. His eyes narrowed as he gazed at her sleeping, composed face that he normally found so much joy in seeing and his lips thinned. Gods didn't age, huh? * "Aaaah! Lucien! What did you do?" A shrill shriek came from the bedroom as Lucien casually sipped at his coffee. Black, with two sugars. Just the way he liked it. He flipped the next page of the newspaper and tutted. The world was such a mess. Seconds later, Hera burst through the doorway, her blonde hair sticking up in all directions as she glared at him. "You did this didn't you?" she spat. Lucien looked up at the poor, whimpering mess she held up at him. It was her beloved Sphynx cat. A light pink before, its skin was now a dull gray, its head covered with wrinkles as it yowled at her in protest. She set it down carefully before turning back to him and glaring at him. "Don't you think you're being too juvenile? Was it really that important that I tell you that I'm a god?" Lucien put down his newspaper and stared at her. "Yes! I think any normal person would want to know that!" "Well you didn't have to take it out on Beatrice! Turn her back right now!" Lucien sniffed and turned his head away from her. "I shan't." Hera's eyes narrowed. "I see. So this is how you want to play it, don't you?" Then she whipped around, her nightgown billowing behind her, and stalked back into the bedroom. * "Hera, you've gone too far this time." Lucien said through clenched teeth and walked up to his wife as she was powdering her nose in front of her dresser mirror. "What happened, dear?" Hera asked. She took a closer look in the mirror. Was she growing a mole? She blinked, and then it was gone. Good. "You better cancel the rain. I swear to God." "You're swearing to me, by the way." "Goddamn it, Hera!" "Still me!" Lucien pressed a hand to his wife's shoulder and turned her to look at him. "If they keep cancelling the Giants game because of your little downpours, I'm going to have to resort to desperate measures," he said through clenched teeth. Hera stuck her tongue out at him, then walked into the bathroom. "Do it then!" she taunted him. "Let's see what you got!" *** Hera looked down at the little ball of plump, pink cat on the bed, bewildered. Had Lucien turned Beatrice into a kitten again? A pair of hands slipped through her arms and around her waist. "Like my surprise?" a deep voice whispered in her ear. "I thought you were going to do your worst," Hera said, her hands coming down to feel his hands. His palms were rough. "These are my desperate measures. I really, really need to watch the game. I know you've wanted another one. I had to go beg Hades to give me another one. He nearly had my arm for it." Hera's eyes lit up, and she turned around to face her gorgeous husband, with his angular cheekbones and bright blue eyes. "So this isn't Beatrice! You got me an undead Sphynx! How'd you even get Hades to part with her?" Lucien grimaced. "I had to agree to be his secretary for the next hundred years. Did you know Hell has a million people going in every day? A million!" Hera smiled at him then, then pecked him on the lips. "I'm sorry for not telling you. I promise I will next time. And I'll see if my father can't talk to him and reduce your sentence just a little bit. " Lucien raised an eyebrow. "Next time?" Hera didn't respond. Swaying her hips, she walked over to the bed and set the undead Sphynx cat into the rocking chair next to it. She turned her smoky eyes on Lucien and curled her index finger at him, sending him a come hither look. "Come on, cowboy. Let's see what you've earned." *** I write more fantasy at r/AlannaWu!
	[WP] you are an old demon just wanting to enjoy retirement in a statue in a shrine, unill a cult start performing sacrifices on your altar. You decide to seek help from a local priest	"So you see, Father. I need your help." I said as I threw back my Manhattan. Father Franklin sat next to me at the bar, fiddling with his vodka soda. "You want me to throw some holy water on them?" "Absolutely. Hose them down and tell them to fuck off." "That's... not really what I do." "What is it that you do then Father?" I shot back. "Because I haven't slept in the past month. I haven't been myself lately." I waved at the bartender. Another round. "And right now, I'm just a little confused." "I understand you're having trouble but--" "--but nothing. Listen, I'm retired." The bartender set the fresh drinks in front of us. I reached into my suit pocket and threw down some cash. "But THAT could all change. We don't want another holy war now, do we? And my understanding is that you're about to retire as well... it'd be a shame if one broke out right before you go to pasture." "No, no we certainly don't want that." Father Franklin gulped down his drink and moved onto the next. "They just keep coming into my shrine unannounced and performing this goddamn--" "--hey! Language!" he gaped. "Oh I'm sorry, Father, excuse my tongue." I lowered my voice. "--this goddamn Satanic ritual. I've seen enough goats slaughtered that it even makes someone like me sick. And Father... I've been to Hell. You know how much ass pounding goes on down there? We're talking no lube. But the terrorists from 9/11 seem to enjoy it." "How many members of this cult are talking about here?" Things were starting to look up. "Around 30 give or take. You work your whole life -- all 5,760 years slaving away -- so that one day you can just settle down and finally have some peace and quiet, and then you have to put up with this shit. I told them I would flog them myself if they didn't stop, but that only seemed to excite them. That's why I'm coming to you with this. They're pure evil, plain and simple. What kind of person doesn't let another man sleep? Absolute animals, I tell you." "Hmmm..." He was finally contemplating his options. Finally, he spoke, "I'm going to need more manpower. We'll need to go to St. Paul's and talk with Father Joseph. Might even need to enlist Rabbi Jeremiah on this." "Rabbi Jeremiah? That old sonuvabitch. Me and him had some good times back in the day. Good for me, terrible for him. Nonetheless, we had some fun that's for sure. Hey, a Jewish girl asked me for my number and you know what I told her?" "What?" "We use names around here." I slapped him on the back. Father Franklin did not look amused. "Holocaust joke, nice. Just keep those drinks flowing and I'll see what I can do." "Absolutely. Hey bartender, two more." I threw my arm over Father Franklin. "Father, Thank God for your help! And this is truly and utterly the only time you'll ever hear me say that. Let's give these fuckers something to pray about."	Retirement is supposed to be simple isn't it? Move to Florida, travel in an airstream, die. It's not that simple for myself. Retirement is a broad term for a demon because we're not supposed to retire. We serve Hell and all that is unholy forever, and that's it. Retire is just a nice way to say I killed six other demons in a fight over errr work related material, and I needed to leave Hell before I went from working there to being a customer. It's not an easy thing. To kill another demon. It takes a lot of hate to rip the beating heart out of six of your own kinds chest, but here I am on earth contemplating what I've done in my 6,000 year existence. I'm tired of being evil. I'm tired of being alive. I just want to fade away in peace. When a demon spends too much time on Earth he just... fades away he doesn't go to heaven or hell he just doesn't exist anymore. I just want to die... but I'd like to do it in peace. I can't handle those fucking sacrifices anymore. Not only are these mundane fools annoying the fuck out of me, but they're keeping me here longer. I can't kill them, and I can't make my presence known. These idiots don't know I'm here, and they think they're actually sacrificing to the Devil himself. The fools. Satan doesn't care about them, he cares about real evil. The politicians, the world leaders, the oil companies, those are the real evil. Not this 17th century hogwash. Thankfully I knew someone who could help. The priest at this little shit hole of a town is an old friend of mine, and it's time I go pay him a visit. "Time has not treated you well," I told the priest as he walked into his office. "who are you? How did you get here? I'm calling the cops." "Sure," I retorted as I revealed my face, You could see the life draining out of his. "awww are you not happy to see me? Here I was thinking to myself Frank Bell is going to be so thrilled to pay off his debts especially since he's a man of god now." "I don't want any trouble from you we had are dealings and we're done now. This has been settled for a long time why are you here to ruin my life again?" "nowwww Frank, when you do business with a demon you always do business with a demon you know this. Or did I forget to tell you? anyways, I did you a big favor by murdering your wife's father for... how much was it? five grand in inheritance? No that's right it was less than that. Man Frank, too bad your'e wife had to go to because you didn't even get the money after that. The whole situation was a damn shame for you exactly like I planned." "Why. Are you. Here." "I need some assistance Frank. There's these Devil worshippers, and they're driving me insane. I need you to get rid of them" "Why can't you do it yourself? you can take care of them in a snap of your fingers" "see I thought about that Frank, and then I remembered that your'e here. So I thought to myself 'you know who I need to visit? old Frank Bell! that guy was a mess he's perfect for this kind of work' so here I am." Frank stared at me, still horrified, but then his horror faded. He knew. He knew what's happening to me. Damn. "Your'e dying aren't you? I can see it. I can see you fading away. You're dying." "Yes. I am. Listen Frank... I... I'm sorry for what happened to you in the past. Just please help me I need your help... I just want to die in peace" This was my first reply to a WP if you have any tips or want me to write a follow up to this please lmk
	[WP] you are an old demon just wanting to enjoy retirement in a statue in a shrine, unill a cult start performing sacrifices on your altar. You decide to seek help from a local priest	“It’s a bloody mess, that’s what it is. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to get blood out of flagstones? Damn near impossible. And the chanting - I haven’t had a good nights sleep in months.” “I thought demons liked the chanting,” my companion says. “You thought demons couldn’t enter churches too, and yet here I am.” The priest is sitting calmly on the pew in front of me, staring straight ahead instead of turning to look at the midnight intruder. I don’t know why. I am an average looking man, or at least I am currently residing in an average looking body. There is nothing fearsome or demonic in my appearance. But there’s something oddly comforting about not being able to see his face, a sort of lack of judgement that falls over my shoulders like an old blanket. I take a deep breath. “The thing is, I did all that. In the old days. I fought wars, started a fair few of them myself. I did the whole sacrifices and chanting and goats - who wants a goat scarified to them for Satan’s sake? What bloody use is that?” The priest makes a non-committal “mmm” sound. It is enough to encourage me to continue. “And some of the stuff they come out with. It’s just not right. Even at the height of my power I wouldn’t have dreamed of some of the stuff these guys are asking me to do.” The priest nods sagely. “Truly, the real demons lie in the minds of man.” “You’ve got that right.” I sigh, leaning back against the uncomfortable wooden pew. “I miss my statue. It was cold and quiet. A good retirement for a demon who did his part. It’s not fair. You work for thousands of years to make this world a worse place, and when you finally get to retire some bastards start cutting up goats on your altar and asking you to smite their enemies.” “You sound lost, my child.” “Yeah. That’s one word for it.” “Would you like to...?” The priest trails off. I run my hands back through my hair and for a second feel the horns hiding underneath. It’s now or never. I take a deep breath, hoping the priest knows he’s in for a long couple of weeks. “Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. It’s been twelve thousand two hundred and nine years since my last confession.”	I knew more about the old man then I remembered about myself. He hadn't spoken to a living soul in 30 years. He only spoke to me. I knew he married when he was 20. That he joined the local police force. That a year later his wife and infant child were killed by drug dealers over a minor traffic stop that turned into a major drug bust. That he pledged himself to God. I knew that on his 30th birthday he took eight lives and brought me in to this world. I was grateful. He sent eight souls to hell and pulled me out. It's a loud place. Hell. The echoing screams reverberate through your skull. Every demon dreams of retiring and every demon has a chance. There are a lot of jobs a demon could have in hell. Each with it's own prerequisites for retirement. I was a Whisperer. We can't create ideas but we can gently nudge and, ironically, our influences only work on the pure. If you've ever heard a school shooter claim a demon made him do it he's a fucking liar. There are bad people out there and we don't want to help them. We want them. It was my job to get them to us and I used good people to do it. I was nearing my retirement quota when I came across the preacher. He'd been travelling for 10 years. He'd move from town to town. Offering help to people who needed it and moving on. He didn't need a lot of motivation. He just needed direction. The man he had pulled over, that destroyed his life, was running drugs out of an abandoned church. I helped him find the town. I helped him find the door. I made sure his eyes were pointed in the right direction. He walked in, picked up an automatic weapon and did the rest himself. Before the blasts died out I was there. I'd hit my quota. When we retire we go back to earth. We all started there but by the time we get back we can't remember how or why. We find a nice useless object and it becomes our home. It might sound boring but it's our version of heaven. We don't have senses but more like a mix of hearing and vision. Most retirees choose to sleep. Some watch the world around them. I ended up in a small statue. An angel holding a child. I chose sleep. to be continued.....
	[WP] You decide to prank call someone. You put in a random number and a voice answers “what is the password?” Confused you stammer out “is your refrigerator running?”. After a brief pause you hear “password confirmed” click. The next day, war is declared.	It was called the Second Cold War for a reason. And it would have stayed cold if I hadn't made that call, or if they'd just double checked the source, but that's like wishing for another timeline. The only timeline I had was this one; and all that lay ahead of me was pain. Here's how it started... 3 months before: Alone in my basement, a discarded pizza box at my feet, I lounged on the lazy boy, staring at the blurry t.v. screen. I'd been up all night following wrestling practice. It wasn't usual for me to lose back to back matches; that shit bugged me. I glanced down at my phone. A couple of conciliatory texts from teammates. I blanched in disgust. Honestly, I didn't mean to do it, but I just started pushing buttons. There's something about the sound response, the quiet tap of pressing a number that I find soothing. I tapped away, ten digits, fifteen, thirty... Then, for the hell of it, I pressed call, wondering what the voice would say, "I'm sorry, the number you're calling does not exist..." It was the closest thing I would have had to a girlfriend in months. Pathetic, yes, but I was already at a low. I waited on the verge of excitment and loneliness as the phone rang... There was no prerecorded message. No response at all at first. Then, a voice. "Password?" said the voice, in a heavy accent. I stared at the phone. Had I accidentally called Tyler? Was this some sort of joke? I hesitated. Ha, very funny, I thought. "Is your refrigerator running?" I said. There was a pause on the other end, a short gasp. "You're--you're sure?" said the voice, quietly. If it was Tyler, he was getting really good at that voice. But honestly, I wasn't in the mood for jokes. "I'm sure--" I said and would have continued with 'that I don't like having my time wasted.' But the voice on the other end interrupted. "It's your call, comrade. The iceman is deployed. All systems running. They better go catch him--but we both know that's not happening. Good luck." There was a click followed by a dial tone. The next day, the president was assassinated, along with his entire cabinet in air force one. A few days after that, it was reported that Vlodav "Iceman" Namedov was behind the attack: the most notorious assassin in Western Asia. A week later, they came for me at my house. FBI, CIA all of them. They took out my parents, my brother. I saw them bleeding as I was dragged into an unmarked civi, blindfolded, beaten and taken somewhere unknown. There I was interrogated for months: tortured, beaten. My grief and confusion slowly morphed, day by day into burning rage; fury. A war had started over the assassination, but I didn't care. I only wanted vengeance. I was alone, in pain, rotting in some government black site, festering on hatred and anger. I'd endured more pain in the last month than I thought imaginable. They even took my left eye... Then yesterday, I got a celly. Not a very chatty fellow, but he looked tough, and, despite his chains, like someone use too control. "What are you in for?" I said, through broken teeth, massaging a jaw from the latest session that morning. "Are you Eugene? Eugene O'Neill?" The voice was heavily accented. I nodded slowly. Why did another prisoner know my name. My face morphed into a scowl. Another trick? "They have caused you pain. I will show you to cause them pain, yes?" I hesitated. What was he saying? The man looked at me through cold blue eyes, blue as ice. "I'm here to get you out." (If you're interested, part two is posted below.)	Kids do stupid things for kicks, but I didn’t want any of this. You know what it’s like, you’re hanging around with your friends and get to prank calling random numbers. Call a number anonymously, say something silly, laugh about it with your friends. We got hung up on the question, “is your refrigerator running?” A classic. We’d made two calls with the question already, the phone was passed to me. I dialed a random number. It was all chance. A 2 rather than a 6, or a 8 instead of a 1, and none of this would have happened. Just my rotten luck. I expected a few rings for my buddies to quit their poorly suppressed laughter, but the phone was answered on before I even heard a ring. A man’s voice answered, but too deep and even to be a real man’s voice. I thought perhaps it was a machine that answered. Maybe it wasn’t. I don’t know. “What is the password?” Slow. Methodical. Emotionless. There were a few moments of silence. My friends looked at me, baffled. My head went blank. I could’ve just ended the call. But I stammered the first thing that came to mind. “Is... your refrigerator running?” I could’ve just ended the call. There was a nearly undetectable click. 5 seconds passed. My friends waited eagerly for a response. The phone hung up on the other end. “What a downer,” chuckled Ben from across the room. “No respect for a good joke. Give the phone here, we’ll try a new one. Seems like the luck on that one has run out.” He was right. The question was terribly unlucky. Edit: Corrected some spelling.
	[WP] With a history of cancer in your family, you wake up one morning feeling weird, so you go to the doctor to have some tests done. After fearing the worst for two weeks, the results come back. The doctor tells you “The good news is that it’s not cancer. The bad news is that...it’s not cancer.”	Emily Joan sunk into Doctor Mason's office chair. A haze of relief being washed away by tides of overwhelming confusion intermixed within sorrow. It's not cancer but it's not positive news either. "There's not much else we can do besides observe and hope." The tension wrought a stale air into the office. "Just observe, Doctor? You're telling me the best anyone can do is watch me like a guinea pig? If you don't mind me being frank Doctor I'm not some fucking lab rat." Dr. Mason reared back, "Misses Joan please keep to your compo-" "Keep my composer? You're joking right? There is a foreign object implanted in my skull making more beeps and whirs than Sputnik and you want me to maintain my composer!?" Dr. Mason took on a lifeless expression, one of someone who's seen the same act too many times. "Our medical staff will be in contact with you tomorrow Ms. Joan, you're dismissed." Emily grabbed her things, "Gladly." and stormed out. Heading out from the hospital to her car the insistent beeping in her head only got louder and took a slightly faster pace. The radio didn't help, it just added more incoherent noise to a chaotic head. At least she was on the way home. The alarm system set off as Emily entered her abode, a fit of anger and malice overtook her as the beeps got louder, like sirens blaring during an emergency. She threw her overcoat at the alarm system hoping miraculously disarm it. It didn't work. Full of regret and embarrassment Emily put in the code and shut off the system. Sleeping was another demon to tackle. Out of frustration and a near thrown out back from writhing about, she gulped NyQuil and melatonin like candy and soda. Waking up on time wasn't a priority right now. Sleep brought Emily no solace, the beeping bleed into her dreams. A nightmare that would be remain when she woke. At least there was a rithym to the piercing pops of solid tones. Morning came to the blare of an alarm that almost drowned out the worst earworm in recent history. Emily's bedroom was a whirling blur of colors, spots floating in and out of focus with something akin to a pattern. Flashes of green and red, then blue, then yellow, and finally pink. The blue taking her fancy the most. The phone rang, taking Emily out of her meditative trance, she had almost forgot about the beeps. The phone rang and she answered but no one was there, just the garbled mess of static. Deciding it was odd but not out of the ordinary she got ready and made breakfast. A bacon sizzle and coffee brewing brought her peace. Like there wasn't any noise buzzing in her head. Taking a bite of the fresh bacon she noticed it tasted off. More like chicken than pork. The coffee wasn't right either, it was too sweet for black coffee and hinted strongly towards hot chocolate. Looking around Emily found that her kitchen wasn't quite right either. Why was the table lamp bent? A rush of misery and pain flooded every last nerve in her body, her ears deafened by the sheer volume and constant high tone. The freezing bite of wherever she was made her blood feel like ice in her veins. Regaining some sight she knew she was nowhere near home, nowhere on earth. The tone stopped as Emily sat up trying to get a sense of bearings. A long, dark, figure stepped into the room from seemingly nowhere. It spoke. You have been chosen, you are our warning. We are deity, We are one, and We will come. Prepare your planet for We shall consume.	The doctor, shivering oh so slightly in the clinic's harsh blueish light, stammered out the announcement. Th-The... The good news-i-is that it's not cancer. Someone who didn't have five malignant tumors in their body would've been elated. The ba-The bad news is... It.. Isn't cancer. I was expecting a "five days to live", not whatever fresh hell this was. "You see," they managed to say with confidence, "we checked the tumours and they don't correspond to any form of cancer that affected the tissue they were in." I couldn't speak. They continued on, still slightly shaky. "However, we did find several red frond-like structures in one of the two tumours dissected." "And the other..." They fumbled around in a filing cabinet. "I'm not sure you want to see this but you've seen stuff almost as bad before.", the doctor continued, before producing a photo containing what appeared to be a coral reef made of flesh.
	[WP] For the last 5 years you've been finding random post-it notes that tell you what to do in difficult situations, and each time it has led to successful outcomes. Today, while arriving at your bosses closed office door for a meeting, you see a note with familiar handwriting. It says "RUN!"	When I got to my seat, I saw a little pink post it on it. It read "RUN!" I'd received these notes before. The first one I received was weird, and I thought a friend of mine was screwing with me. It read: "Tell Julia in cubicle 15 you love her highlights." Deciding to humor the note, I walked over to Julia, noticing the almost indistinguishable highlights in her hair. I complimented her on them and we got to talking. It turned out we were into a lot of the same things. She and I had jobs to do, however, and went back to work, but not before agreeing to talk later. The next day, the note read: "Ask her how her father is doing" Well, that's kind of strange. But OK, so far my friend isn't misleading me yet, so I'll try it out. I went over and asked. She said he was under a lot of stress all of the time. Apparently, her father is the owner and president of the company. She's working from the bottom up, because her old man thought it would teach her work ethic and responsibility. Our company was in constant turmoil, from bad business deals to terrible companies we were working with. It made sense he was stressed. She then asked about my father, to which I gave her a bland answer, and then she asked about me. Clearly our talks were going somewhere. It was two weeks before the next note. I had been talking to Julia pretty consistently, and we were really hitting it off. I just didn't know how to take it to the next level. The note read: "Call Melnati's and reserve a table for Saturday at nine. Then ask Julia to go to dinner" I had just finished my thought when I saw it on my monitor. Melnati's was ridiculously expensive, and I knew I would never get a table there, but I called anyway, seeing as it couldn't hurt, maybe wasting a minute or two of my time. Turns out, that Melnati's was in desperate need of a full house that night, because apparently some famous food critic was in town and they wanted to look good for him. The 9 o clock for that night had just cancelled, and they needed someone for the table. They offered me 80% off if I brought a friend. I was absolutely dumbstruck, but said yes, because as I said, nothing bad had happened to me yet. This was when I began to suspect that it wasn't just a friend of mine writing these notes. I went and asked Julia, and it turned out to be her favorite restaurant. We went out and had a great time that Saturday night, and kept going out because we enjoyed each other's company so much. Fast forward about 7 months. Julia and I were an item. She loved everything I did. We played Smash Bros and Mario Kart, spent a lot of time at my place wearing just sweat pants, and just generally ribbing each other like best friends. I couldn't imagine a happier life. I lifted the lid to my toilet to take a piss, then pissed myself. There was a note on the lid. It read: "Pop the question. You don't need a ring." The only notes I had been receiving after the initial ones about Julia up until now were related to work, and had helped me get promoted in the last couple of months. Little things like submitting projects early or taking the initiative on something I should have had no way of knowing. I was shocked that one was in my home, but they had never misled me. So I asked. She practically jumped into my arms with joy. The wedding was fantastic. I had received another note telling me to personally invite her father, which was amazing, because he was greatly impressed with me in general, as well as with my work ethic. He told me the company might be mine someday. So fast forward to today. The little note that said "RUN!" I looked over at my soon-to-be ex-boss. I was getting promoted later that week. He had been a cog in the machine for almost thirty years, and hadn't really moved from his position for a very long time. The note didn't have to say anything else. I bolted for the door. As if on cue, my boss pulled a gun. I put two and two together and realized he was probably angry about me getting promoted, but I never thought he would lose it like this. He didn't have time to fire before getting tackled by a couple of our co-workers. Apparently, me running towards the door with a worried look in my eye put them all on alert, so that when our boss pulled the gun, they were ready to react and were right next to him. He didn't try anything else as I was his only target. As I got back to my feet, I went back to look at the note that had saved my life. It was strange to see, but the text on it had changed. It read: "You have now finished the tutorial." &#x200B; Any feedback is appreciated! Constructive criticism gets a smiley sticker!	That's when the ground started shaking. It was light at first, but noticeable. Like a dizzy spell, but obviously not, since a pen was rolling. So Danielle ran. She almost face-planted onto the elevator, turning abruptly for the stairs. Before she could process whether she needed to apologize to that obstacle, she was halfway down the stairs. She turned and jumped against the door, pushing it open. An alarm began to sound, but Danielle kept running. That alarm was obviously necessary. The ground shook once more. This time it wasn't an innocent dizzy spell that would play with pens. There was a low rumble as Danielle flew off her feet. She sprawled on a rocking ground as a lamppost shattered in the distance. She rolled over, losing her balance to the quaking. She was across the street from the office but that seemed to barely be enough. The building was cracking, and no window on it lasted. It was still moving, parts of it disagreeing with other ones. The ground shuddered once more. The parts of the building made up their minds, separating faster. Danielle then saw her office collapse. There was a rumbling and a dust cloud. The debris rained, some landing on Danielle. She closed her eyes, wondering if the post-it over-estimated her speed or if her doubt, even the split-second of it, caused her demise. It stopped raining, so Danielle opened her eyes and looked downards, coughing and sneezing. She was barely able to see the building, now spanning the street in front of her. A few pillars stood in the middle, barely supporting the water cooler. She started to get up, realizing that she had a scrape on her arm. A post-it fluttered in the sky, gently but somehow firmly landing in front of her. "Go Home. You'll have to start applying for new jobs. Pretend you were sick today." Given that that handwriting just saved her life, she knew what to do. She started walking.
	[WP] For the last 5 years you've been finding random post-it notes that tell you what to do in difficult situations, and each time it has led to successful outcomes. Today, while arriving at your bosses closed office door for a meeting, you see a note with familiar handwriting. It says "RUN!"	When I got to my seat, I saw a little pink post it on it. It read "RUN!" I'd received these notes before. The first one I received was weird, and I thought a friend of mine was screwing with me. It read: "Tell Julia in cubicle 15 you love her highlights." Deciding to humor the note, I walked over to Julia, noticing the almost indistinguishable highlights in her hair. I complimented her on them and we got to talking. It turned out we were into a lot of the same things. She and I had jobs to do, however, and went back to work, but not before agreeing to talk later. The next day, the note read: "Ask her how her father is doing" Well, that's kind of strange. But OK, so far my friend isn't misleading me yet, so I'll try it out. I went over and asked. She said he was under a lot of stress all of the time. Apparently, her father is the owner and president of the company. She's working from the bottom up, because her old man thought it would teach her work ethic and responsibility. Our company was in constant turmoil, from bad business deals to terrible companies we were working with. It made sense he was stressed. She then asked about my father, to which I gave her a bland answer, and then she asked about me. Clearly our talks were going somewhere. It was two weeks before the next note. I had been talking to Julia pretty consistently, and we were really hitting it off. I just didn't know how to take it to the next level. The note read: "Call Melnati's and reserve a table for Saturday at nine. Then ask Julia to go to dinner" I had just finished my thought when I saw it on my monitor. Melnati's was ridiculously expensive, and I knew I would never get a table there, but I called anyway, seeing as it couldn't hurt, maybe wasting a minute or two of my time. Turns out, that Melnati's was in desperate need of a full house that night, because apparently some famous food critic was in town and they wanted to look good for him. The 9 o clock for that night had just cancelled, and they needed someone for the table. They offered me 80% off if I brought a friend. I was absolutely dumbstruck, but said yes, because as I said, nothing bad had happened to me yet. This was when I began to suspect that it wasn't just a friend of mine writing these notes. I went and asked Julia, and it turned out to be her favorite restaurant. We went out and had a great time that Saturday night, and kept going out because we enjoyed each other's company so much. Fast forward about 7 months. Julia and I were an item. She loved everything I did. We played Smash Bros and Mario Kart, spent a lot of time at my place wearing just sweat pants, and just generally ribbing each other like best friends. I couldn't imagine a happier life. I lifted the lid to my toilet to take a piss, then pissed myself. There was a note on the lid. It read: "Pop the question. You don't need a ring." The only notes I had been receiving after the initial ones about Julia up until now were related to work, and had helped me get promoted in the last couple of months. Little things like submitting projects early or taking the initiative on something I should have had no way of knowing. I was shocked that one was in my home, but they had never misled me. So I asked. She practically jumped into my arms with joy. The wedding was fantastic. I had received another note telling me to personally invite her father, which was amazing, because he was greatly impressed with me in general, as well as with my work ethic. He told me the company might be mine someday. So fast forward to today. The little note that said "RUN!" I looked over at my soon-to-be ex-boss. I was getting promoted later that week. He had been a cog in the machine for almost thirty years, and hadn't really moved from his position for a very long time. The note didn't have to say anything else. I bolted for the door. As if on cue, my boss pulled a gun. I put two and two together and realized he was probably angry about me getting promoted, but I never thought he would lose it like this. He didn't have time to fire before getting tackled by a couple of our co-workers. Apparently, me running towards the door with a worried look in my eye put them all on alert, so that when our boss pulled the gun, they were ready to react and were right next to him. He didn't try anything else as I was his only target. As I got back to my feet, I went back to look at the note that had saved my life. It was strange to see, but the text on it had changed. It read: "You have now finished the tutorial." &#x200B; Any feedback is appreciated! Constructive criticism gets a smiley sticker!	I yank the note off the door, jamming it into my pocket before my boss walks up, slaps a hand on my shoulder, and leads me into his office. He’s wearing a wide smile, acting friendly as can be—which worries me. Whenever Mr. Melvin’s having a good day, it means he’s dangerous. Mr. Melvin’s typically pretty grumpy, but still calm. Off-handed comment here, slap-in-the-face-insult there—nothing more. But on days like this, days where he walks in whistling and dancing, he can be an absolute monster if his mood’s soured. One time he poured coffee on someone’s desk because they put sugar in it. Another time he smashed his chair into a million pieces because it kept squeaking. The note on the door said "RUN", and while they’ve not been wrong yet, I think I know what’s gonna happen—he’s gonna ask for my lunch. For my glorious turkey club, the same one I buy every morning. He just noticed it yesterday and eyed it up, licking his lips as he creepily rambled about how tasty it looked. Now he’s chipper as ever, and randomly calls me into his office? I see through his tricks. He thinks I’ll give him my lunch because I don’t wanna piss him off. Thinks I’ll bow before him and let him bully me. No. Today I’ll do something different, today I’ll prove the note wrong. This situation won’t end poorly, and he won’t freak out because I’m going to hit him with the ultimate power move by calling him out. This is my turkey club. I will defend my turkey club. So when he tells me to sit, I continue standing, and when he opens his mouth again, I dash across the room, pressing my forehead against his and glaring at him. “What the actual hell are you—” “YOU WILL NOT STEAL MY TURKEY CLUB!” I scream, standing on my tippy-toes, puffing my chest out. “IT’S MINE, GODDAMMIT!” I bet everyone’s hurrying out their seats, trying to listen to this. I’m one-upping the boss, and it’s obvious by the look on his face that he’s gonna try making excuses, so I give him a hard shove. “A PERSON’S LUNCH IS SACRED, AND I WILL NOT RUN FROM THE ENEMY OF MINE. STAY AWAY FROM ME, MR. MELVIN!” Taking a deep breath, I nod my head, trying not to smile despite the fact that this might be the greatest moment of my life. He's pissed and I bet when I walk outside, everyone’s gonna cheer my name, gonna celebrate my victory. I finally stood up to— Wait. He’s like, furious. Clenched fists, gritted teeth. Uh-oh. “I was just going to ask you if you wanted to take a few shifts. If you'd said no, I just would've gotten one of the other idiots here to do it!” he seethes before opening his desk and pulling out a turkey club. “I’VE ALREADY GOT MY OWN GODDAMN TURKEY CLUB!” “Oh.” When he kicks his chair over and flips his desk, I mutter sorry and I hope you have a good day and did you get mayo on the club before hurrying out of the room, just dodging a clock he throws at me. The only thing cheering me on as I stroll down the hall is the quiet clicking of computer keys and him screaming “YOUUUUUUUU’RE FIIIIIIIIIIRED!” Well, at least I learned a lesson, I guess—always listen to the notes. Always. *** While I don't think this is exactly the response you were expecting, I still hope it's good! This idea popped into my head and made me laugh a bunch. Thanks for the prompt! If you like this story, check out my sub r/longhandwriter or my [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/BryceBealWriter?lang=en)
	[WP] For the last 5 years you've been finding random post-it notes that tell you what to do in difficult situations, and each time it has led to successful outcomes. Today, while arriving at your bosses closed office door for a meeting, you see a note with familiar handwriting. It says "RUN!"	I already heard the gun shot when I finished reading the note. Everyone else, including our boss looked confused. "Everyone stay hear, it's probably nothing. Some one might have just dropped something is all," he said. These notes have never let me down before; they helped me land this job, helped me marry the love of my life, and they were never wrong. I ignored them once when it landed on the handle of my car and said 'Don't drive today!' I got in a wreck that put me a couple of days in the hospital. That was the last time I ignored them, so when it said to 'RUN' I'm not going to wait it out and hope we're safe: I'm going to run! I bolted passed my boss forcefully, I can hear him calling me to come back. I heard another shot and I ducked down behind the cubicle walls. The office room I ran out of was a corner room so I could only go down the right hall way. Near the end of it was a familiar blue post it. 'Go left!' Without even thinking, I turned and ran down the left hall. More shots were coming followed by screaming, and of course I was running toward it, not away from it. But I don't ignore the notes, they never let me down. I was coming to the stair case door and another note. These things are more abundant today, but I wasn't complaining. 'Head to the Ground Floor!' It didn't have to tell me twice. There were a lot of people coming toward me needing my escape route too, so I hauled ass. I'm jumping two almost three stair steps at this point, and this mid thirties beating heart hasn't had this much action in years. The ground floor was flooded with hysterical people pushing and shoving each other out of the exit door. I waited for a chance and saw an opening to safely make it out. I made it! These things never let me down. I ran to my car, but there was another note on my car handle. 'Go back inside.' Are you kidding? I'm out and these things want me to go back in? For the first time in many years, I hesitated. I actually wanted to throw the note on the ground, start the car, and put as much distance I can from me and a guy with a gun. The crowd was gathering in front of the building, and the police haven't arrived yet. What's taking them so long? I looked down at the note again and told myself over and over again 'They've never let me down before.' With a big deep breath, I ignored by doubt and ran back inside. This was insane! The main office was eerily quite. But something familiar caught my eye. On the reception desk counter, there was yet another note that read 'Behind the desk is a metal bat. Take it and head to elevators right side' 'Julie keeps a bat behind here. Girl you were holding back on us girl.' I though to myself. Sure enough there was brand new metal bat behind there. I took it and made my way to the elevator. To absolutely no ones surprise, especially mine, there was a note on the buttons 'When you hear the ding, count down from 5 then swing as hard as you can! \----> I flipped it over 'Good luck' When I was done reading, I heard the elevator go off. 5...4 I haven't swung a bat since varsity in high school. I hope I still have some power in my swing. 3 I choked the bat up, took a deep breath 2 The doors opened, and I took a small step forward. 1 I saw the back of his head. My hips and arms rotated simultaneously, I never took my eye off him. I may not have always been the best hitter on my team back then, but call me Teddy fucking Williams, all I needed was one hit and he was knocked out! &#x200B; The shooter turned out to be an ex lover of one of the female staff. Made sense as I've never seen or knew the guy, but I didn't care. I was still taking all of what happened in. Of course I was examined by medical staff and the police took my report asking me 'How'd I did it?' I couldn't tell them everything, no one would believe me, so I simply said. "Guess I had a feeling, and I went with it you know?" They weren't too convinced but they let me go. I came home that night, exhausted from today, with a line of reporters wanting to talk to me in the morning, I went to my bedroom and there it was. A little blue post it that simply said 'Thank you' I smiled and did something I never did before. I took out a pen from my pocket and wrote 'No. Thank you.' on the note. It deserved it. 'You're welcome <3' appeared from the note. I dropped my pen. &#x200B; \*I'll apologize in advance for any errors or continuity. This is my first post here and it's late. Hope you enjoy it.	I yank the note off the door, jamming it into my pocket before my boss walks up, slaps a hand on my shoulder, and leads me into his office. He’s wearing a wide smile, acting friendly as can be—which worries me. Whenever Mr. Melvin’s having a good day, it means he’s dangerous. Mr. Melvin’s typically pretty grumpy, but still calm. Off-handed comment here, slap-in-the-face-insult there—nothing more. But on days like this, days where he walks in whistling and dancing, he can be an absolute monster if his mood’s soured. One time he poured coffee on someone’s desk because they put sugar in it. Another time he smashed his chair into a million pieces because it kept squeaking. The note on the door said "RUN", and while they’ve not been wrong yet, I think I know what’s gonna happen—he’s gonna ask for my lunch. For my glorious turkey club, the same one I buy every morning. He just noticed it yesterday and eyed it up, licking his lips as he creepily rambled about how tasty it looked. Now he’s chipper as ever, and randomly calls me into his office? I see through his tricks. He thinks I’ll give him my lunch because I don’t wanna piss him off. Thinks I’ll bow before him and let him bully me. No. Today I’ll do something different, today I’ll prove the note wrong. This situation won’t end poorly, and he won’t freak out because I’m going to hit him with the ultimate power move by calling him out. This is my turkey club. I will defend my turkey club. So when he tells me to sit, I continue standing, and when he opens his mouth again, I dash across the room, pressing my forehead against his and glaring at him. “What the actual hell are you—” “YOU WILL NOT STEAL MY TURKEY CLUB!” I scream, standing on my tippy-toes, puffing my chest out. “IT’S MINE, GODDAMMIT!” I bet everyone’s hurrying out their seats, trying to listen to this. I’m one-upping the boss, and it’s obvious by the look on his face that he’s gonna try making excuses, so I give him a hard shove. “A PERSON’S LUNCH IS SACRED, AND I WILL NOT RUN FROM THE ENEMY OF MINE. STAY AWAY FROM ME, MR. MELVIN!” Taking a deep breath, I nod my head, trying not to smile despite the fact that this might be the greatest moment of my life. He's pissed and I bet when I walk outside, everyone’s gonna cheer my name, gonna celebrate my victory. I finally stood up to— Wait. He’s like, furious. Clenched fists, gritted teeth. Uh-oh. “I was just going to ask you if you wanted to take a few shifts. If you'd said no, I just would've gotten one of the other idiots here to do it!” he seethes before opening his desk and pulling out a turkey club. “I’VE ALREADY GOT MY OWN GODDAMN TURKEY CLUB!” “Oh.” When he kicks his chair over and flips his desk, I mutter sorry and I hope you have a good day and did you get mayo on the club before hurrying out of the room, just dodging a clock he throws at me. The only thing cheering me on as I stroll down the hall is the quiet clicking of computer keys and him screaming “YOUUUUUUUU’RE FIIIIIIIIIIRED!” Well, at least I learned a lesson, I guess—always listen to the notes. Always. *** While I don't think this is exactly the response you were expecting, I still hope it's good! This idea popped into my head and made me laugh a bunch. Thanks for the prompt! If you like this story, check out my sub r/longhandwriter or my [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/BryceBealWriter?lang=en)
	[WP] In the universe, species are either very intelligent and frail or durable and strong. Finding humans to be capable of labor, aliens mistakenly label us as dumb brutes and attempt to enslave us.	Electro force squad commander(#translation) orbit above earth. The orders for my 100 unit squad was to subjugate a isolated human dwelling to carry out tests. It started as most encounters did on heavy mass planets, the dumb humans were awestruck when we landed and surprisingly, a few showed interest instead of fleeing like there kind always do. They were bipedal species, like us, who looked to be transitioning from animals to sentience, a few millennia more and they might of offered some resistance. They also kept other animals in there dirty hovels with them, which was strange. Maybe they didnt rule this planet as our reports had suggested. Once the speeders had rounded up the fleeing, I ordered them separated into groups based on mass. This caused anxiety in them, that was plain to see. They seemed to roar and bark, i could detect no pathic signals that we used to communicate but our sensory equipment was picking up some strange reading in the air. Very odd. My unit was tasked to attain the level of electro shock required to make them carry out there role as workers for our empire the gan 'doh. The smallest massed humans were not needed so were thrown to the side. This caused fury on a level I have never witnessed. The larger massed humans tore into my unit. Any thing that they could pick up was used as weapons, even there own limbs. I saw one using there teeth to tear into one of my technitions. There four legged animals were lethal aswell. Even our staff stunner s set at the highest level would not subdue them. I ordered lethal force to be used. This was would be a taint on my career but I could see no other way. The beams from our pistols hammered into them and still they rioted and kill my technitions with nothing more than rocks and and there own limbs. Finally, Nearly all of the 400 humans we had rounded up were good of life, when from the sky a human craft appeared, using the very air to keep it up. It landed And out of this craft came more humans with metal tools and painted faces. The conclusion was simple, they must have a hidden degree of sentience. With the strength that I had witnessed they would become a very powerful warrior clan to our empire. I hoped to pathe this to the painted humans who came out of the craft. Holding my hand high in the empiric sign for greeting I walked up to the painted humans. SMASH! The force of there manipulator limb hitting me threw me to the floor. STAMP! My leg was snapped and I was being tied, such pain. I was dragged to my 30 surviving technitions, who were tied in a similar way. Where were the others... . They were on the ground with holes ripped through them. Where these had come from I could not guess. I saw other human craft in the air. And contrails heading towards my homeship in orbit. The humans looked down at us now with rage in there eyes, no fear. I have a sense of foreboding. My unit was elite. Even our warrior clans can not match us in battle. I fear we have stumbled on a new type of species here. I fear for my empire.	Humans. Driven onward by ambition and curiosity, we explore, invent, and create simply to satisfy an innate desire to do so. Vast monuments are built in a matter of years, and everywhere you look the tell tale signals of our sum of knowledge lay before us. To ourselves, we are thinkers, philosophers, moralists and artists. Contemplators of simple complicated questions. One such question, wether or not we are alone in the universe, has been answered. For a century at least that one unanswerable question captivated our world. We dreamed of entering an intergalactic community the likes of which few men could ever imagine. It is with great astonishment, disbelief, and horrible grief that we must acknowledge such community does not exist. In its stead we found a single species. Though small and frail, even the lowest of their ranks seem to possess an intelligence far beyond our own. Yet, the technology they posses has emboldened them. They may well have been the first species, and with such a title comes entitlement. We have seen their data banks, their plans for every intelligent-life bearing planet, and we have weeped. Hundreds, thousands, millions of sentient species subjugated because their intelligence has not impressed their invaders. Countless men, women, children, and anything yet known to us, have fallen before their masters broken and beaten beyond recognition. It is for them we must not surrender. We must not surrender, must not let them know how we tire so of unending death and devastation. Millions already have been slaughtered by the talons of our would be oppressers, and though more give their lives everyday it shall not be in vain. Already the enemy retreats, driven back beyond our solar system by our hands. They believed us to be an unintelligent, unfeeling, brutish warrior race, and like Icarus before them they flew too close to our Sun. Mark my words, we will take our fight to them. We will do everything in our mortal power to conquer the unconquerable, and free those that have only known subservience. Together, we may strive to create that galactic community we longed for. Together, we can bring about at last a peaceful galaxy. ———————————————————————— Radios, televisions, phones and computers around the world tuned in to listen to the World Leader’s speech. As his voice filled with emotion, and rose to crescendo, all listened transfixed by his spoken word. His words tapered off, and a heavy sullen silence filled the crowd before him. Most, if not all the people of the world, had lost somebody to the initial invasion, or subsequent rebellions, and it was no secret the World Leader had lost his only son. “It is with great honor that I christen this, the flagship of our fleet, the U.E.D.F. Defiance!” With steady hand and chin held high the World Leader slammed the champagne bottle against the hull of the ship, and in an instant the entire space dock was clear as the fleet entered hyperspace. ———————————————————————— Alternative Ending: “It is with great honor that I christen this, the flagship of our fleet, the U.E.D.F. Defiance!” With steady hand and chin held high the World Leader slammed the champagne bottle against the hull of the ship, and in an instant the entire space dock was lit up with a brilliantly blinding blue light. When it settled, all that was left was a smoking wreckage. Our entire fleet was wiped out, by one alien warship. ———————————————————————— Leave a review and all. Written by me of course. First post here to r/writingprompts how’d I do?
	[WP] In the universe, species are either very intelligent and frail or durable and strong. Finding humans to be capable of labor, aliens mistakenly label us as dumb brutes and attempt to enslave us.	In the grim darkness of the far future, there is only war. A war that we started. We were the first beings to achieve sentience in the Galaxy. A fact that is irrefutable. And in the eons that followed we grew and spread throughout what we now call "The Milky Way". Damn these humans, they have taken everything from us, even our language. Their resilience was apparent from the start. When our scouts first found them they were little more than beasts, clinging to the cradles of life on their small planet. But in record time they advanced. They began to question the doctrines laid out before them and shirk off the beliefs of those in power over them. They grew too fast, we had to stop it. We quietly influenced their own religious leaders to burn down their greatest collection of knowledge in a place known then as Alexandria. But still they persisted. They fought through plagues and famines and dictators. And in less than five millennia they achieved extra orbital travel. It was then that we decided to introduce ourselves as the Guardians of Order. We arrived en masse as a show of force. To prove to them that if they refused to bow and obey that they would be slaughtered. And it worked... Briefly... They began to experiment with shards of our technology that had long since been forgotten. And they discovered the gate to Our Place. The space between spaces needs a gate on every world it connects to, and on "Earth" we disguised it as a ring of ancient stone. This was the beginning of our end. These creatures proved to not only be the beasts of burden we originally thought they were, but also engineers capable of reverse engineering technology they couldn't even comprehend. ------ We gave them one cycle. One hundred revolutions of their silly little rock. It proved to be more than enough. By the time our fleet had made the rounds to sort out some other systems they had already overthrown the Overseer. A first, to be sure. And by the time we returned they were ready for us. Their advancement in one cycle was exponential in ways never seen before or since in this Galaxy. They rebuked the first wave with little concern. And the second with a mere fraction of their forces. The third wave was met en route to the planets surface and completely blown apart. Their full attention on us we barely escaped their system with our flagship intact. These... Creatures... Their creativity and resourcefulness matched only by their brutality and rage. We fled from star system to star system, trying to escape the horrors that we had unleashed. Every planet that fell to them only made them stronger. They took our craftworlds and turned the worldforges against us. Creating machines of titanic proportions, ones that consumed the stars themselves. We ran back into our home space and they followed. They tore open the veil between spaces and continued their march, driven by a zealotry they themselves don't even comprehend. Only a few of us remain, driven back to the labyrynth cities that have stood the test of millions of cycles. I can hear them outside. On the walls of the great tower rending it apart with their hands. They are coming for me. The one who lead the incursion forces. I alone have brought down the First Civilization. I alone have brought genocide to my race. i alone walk to my balcony and stare into the face of my sentencer. I alone must pass into the beyond. I am the only one left. Edit: this is my first time doing one of these, feedback is greatly appreciated! 😊	Humans. Driven onward by ambition and curiosity, we explore, invent, and create simply to satisfy an innate desire to do so. Vast monuments are built in a matter of years, and everywhere you look the tell tale signals of our sum of knowledge lay before us. To ourselves, we are thinkers, philosophers, moralists and artists. Contemplators of simple complicated questions. One such question, wether or not we are alone in the universe, has been answered. For a century at least that one unanswerable question captivated our world. We dreamed of entering an intergalactic community the likes of which few men could ever imagine. It is with great astonishment, disbelief, and horrible grief that we must acknowledge such community does not exist. In its stead we found a single species. Though small and frail, even the lowest of their ranks seem to possess an intelligence far beyond our own. Yet, the technology they posses has emboldened them. They may well have been the first species, and with such a title comes entitlement. We have seen their data banks, their plans for every intelligent-life bearing planet, and we have weeped. Hundreds, thousands, millions of sentient species subjugated because their intelligence has not impressed their invaders. Countless men, women, children, and anything yet known to us, have fallen before their masters broken and beaten beyond recognition. It is for them we must not surrender. We must not surrender, must not let them know how we tire so of unending death and devastation. Millions already have been slaughtered by the talons of our would be oppressers, and though more give their lives everyday it shall not be in vain. Already the enemy retreats, driven back beyond our solar system by our hands. They believed us to be an unintelligent, unfeeling, brutish warrior race, and like Icarus before them they flew too close to our Sun. Mark my words, we will take our fight to them. We will do everything in our mortal power to conquer the unconquerable, and free those that have only known subservience. Together, we may strive to create that galactic community we longed for. Together, we can bring about at last a peaceful galaxy. ———————————————————————— Radios, televisions, phones and computers around the world tuned in to listen to the World Leader’s speech. As his voice filled with emotion, and rose to crescendo, all listened transfixed by his spoken word. His words tapered off, and a heavy sullen silence filled the crowd before him. Most, if not all the people of the world, had lost somebody to the initial invasion, or subsequent rebellions, and it was no secret the World Leader had lost his only son. “It is with great honor that I christen this, the flagship of our fleet, the U.E.D.F. Defiance!” With steady hand and chin held high the World Leader slammed the champagne bottle against the hull of the ship, and in an instant the entire space dock was clear as the fleet entered hyperspace. ———————————————————————— Alternative Ending: “It is with great honor that I christen this, the flagship of our fleet, the U.E.D.F. Defiance!” With steady hand and chin held high the World Leader slammed the champagne bottle against the hull of the ship, and in an instant the entire space dock was lit up with a brilliantly blinding blue light. When it settled, all that was left was a smoking wreckage. Our entire fleet was wiped out, by one alien warship. ———————————————————————— Leave a review and all. Written by me of course. First post here to r/writingprompts how’d I do?
	[WP] In the universe, species are either very intelligent and frail or durable and strong. Finding humans to be capable of labor, aliens mistakenly label us as dumb brutes and attempt to enslave us.	Electro force squad commander(#translation) orbit above earth. The orders for my 100 unit squad was to subjugate a isolated human dwelling to carry out tests. It started as most encounters did on heavy mass planets, the dumb humans were awestruck when we landed and surprisingly, a few showed interest instead of fleeing like there kind always do. They were bipedal species, like us, who looked to be transitioning from animals to sentience, a few millennia more and they might of offered some resistance. They also kept other animals in there dirty hovels with them, which was strange. Maybe they didnt rule this planet as our reports had suggested. Once the speeders had rounded up the fleeing, I ordered them separated into groups based on mass. This caused anxiety in them, that was plain to see. They seemed to roar and bark, i could detect no pathic signals that we used to communicate but our sensory equipment was picking up some strange reading in the air. Very odd. My unit was tasked to attain the level of electro shock required to make them carry out there role as workers for our empire the gan 'doh. The smallest massed humans were not needed so were thrown to the side. This caused fury on a level I have never witnessed. The larger massed humans tore into my unit. Any thing that they could pick up was used as weapons, even there own limbs. I saw one using there teeth to tear into one of my technitions. There four legged animals were lethal aswell. Even our staff stunner s set at the highest level would not subdue them. I ordered lethal force to be used. This was would be a taint on my career but I could see no other way. The beams from our pistols hammered into them and still they rioted and kill my technitions with nothing more than rocks and and there own limbs. Finally, Nearly all of the 400 humans we had rounded up were good of life, when from the sky a human craft appeared, using the very air to keep it up. It landed And out of this craft came more humans with metal tools and painted faces. The conclusion was simple, they must have a hidden degree of sentience. With the strength that I had witnessed they would become a very powerful warrior clan to our empire. I hoped to pathe this to the painted humans who came out of the craft. Holding my hand high in the empiric sign for greeting I walked up to the painted humans. SMASH! The force of there manipulator limb hitting me threw me to the floor. STAMP! My leg was snapped and I was being tied, such pain. I was dragged to my 30 surviving technitions, who were tied in a similar way. Where were the others... . They were on the ground with holes ripped through them. Where these had come from I could not guess. I saw other human craft in the air. And contrails heading towards my homeship in orbit. The humans looked down at us now with rage in there eyes, no fear. I have a sense of foreboding. My unit was elite. Even our warrior clans can not match us in battle. I fear we have stumbled on a new type of species here. I fear for my empire.	On one hand, the alien campaign to conquer us is entirely succesful. In spite of that, we all still think we're pretty smart. After our enslavement, we still don't see ourselves as merely dumb labor, even if that's what most of us end up doing. If only those alien overlords would stop oppressing us. We'd be inventing all the things and developing all the theories. A galaxy-wide revolution abolishes slavery. humans receive equal rights. We are asked to vote on a new government. But most of us never really understood national politics, let alone galactic politics. So the aliens make an extensive effort to educate us. This fails and backfires hilariously. Most humans inadvertently end up voting for the party that wants to reinstate our slavery. This party loses, but we humans become forever the laughing stock of the alien community. But we still think we're pretty smart. After the revolution, most humans go back to doing the same work and living the same life. But now it's sold to them as a choice. Not a lot of human inventing or theories happening. If only capitalism would stop pushing humanity down. However, some humans do pretty well in the time after slavery. They become entrepeneurs, scientists or even politicians. Interestingly, they don't consider themselves human and view it as an insult when their humanity is pointed out to them. They try to avoid being branded as human whenever possible. But other humans hold these humans up as shining examples of what all humans could be, showing that humans are a smart species. Some aliens end up doing dumb manual labor. They slowly come to believe that it's the fault of an oppressive system that pushes down humansl, and that the same happened to them. They develop human friendships and learn human culture. These aliens are eventually called honorary humans, though it depends on the speaker wether or not this term is pejorative. After a few decades the aliens develop a popular theory that states they were wrong and that humanity is actually very smart. Nothing changes and most of humanity spends most of their life doing mostly dumb labor. In fact, one might say that this belief is exactly what ensures the galaxy continues on this way.
	[WP] In the universe, species are either very intelligent and frail or durable and strong. Finding humans to be capable of labor, aliens mistakenly label us as dumb brutes and attempt to enslave us.	In the grim darkness of the far future, there is only war. A war that we started. We were the first beings to achieve sentience in the Galaxy. A fact that is irrefutable. And in the eons that followed we grew and spread throughout what we now call "The Milky Way". Damn these humans, they have taken everything from us, even our language. Their resilience was apparent from the start. When our scouts first found them they were little more than beasts, clinging to the cradles of life on their small planet. But in record time they advanced. They began to question the doctrines laid out before them and shirk off the beliefs of those in power over them. They grew too fast, we had to stop it. We quietly influenced their own religious leaders to burn down their greatest collection of knowledge in a place known then as Alexandria. But still they persisted. They fought through plagues and famines and dictators. And in less than five millennia they achieved extra orbital travel. It was then that we decided to introduce ourselves as the Guardians of Order. We arrived en masse as a show of force. To prove to them that if they refused to bow and obey that they would be slaughtered. And it worked... Briefly... They began to experiment with shards of our technology that had long since been forgotten. And they discovered the gate to Our Place. The space between spaces needs a gate on every world it connects to, and on "Earth" we disguised it as a ring of ancient stone. This was the beginning of our end. These creatures proved to not only be the beasts of burden we originally thought they were, but also engineers capable of reverse engineering technology they couldn't even comprehend. ------ We gave them one cycle. One hundred revolutions of their silly little rock. It proved to be more than enough. By the time our fleet had made the rounds to sort out some other systems they had already overthrown the Overseer. A first, to be sure. And by the time we returned they were ready for us. Their advancement in one cycle was exponential in ways never seen before or since in this Galaxy. They rebuked the first wave with little concern. And the second with a mere fraction of their forces. The third wave was met en route to the planets surface and completely blown apart. Their full attention on us we barely escaped their system with our flagship intact. These... Creatures... Their creativity and resourcefulness matched only by their brutality and rage. We fled from star system to star system, trying to escape the horrors that we had unleashed. Every planet that fell to them only made them stronger. They took our craftworlds and turned the worldforges against us. Creating machines of titanic proportions, ones that consumed the stars themselves. We ran back into our home space and they followed. They tore open the veil between spaces and continued their march, driven by a zealotry they themselves don't even comprehend. Only a few of us remain, driven back to the labyrynth cities that have stood the test of millions of cycles. I can hear them outside. On the walls of the great tower rending it apart with their hands. They are coming for me. The one who lead the incursion forces. I alone have brought down the First Civilization. I alone have brought genocide to my race. i alone walk to my balcony and stare into the face of my sentencer. I alone must pass into the beyond. I am the only one left. Edit: this is my first time doing one of these, feedback is greatly appreciated! 😊	On one hand, the alien campaign to conquer us is entirely succesful. In spite of that, we all still think we're pretty smart. After our enslavement, we still don't see ourselves as merely dumb labor, even if that's what most of us end up doing. If only those alien overlords would stop oppressing us. We'd be inventing all the things and developing all the theories. A galaxy-wide revolution abolishes slavery. humans receive equal rights. We are asked to vote on a new government. But most of us never really understood national politics, let alone galactic politics. So the aliens make an extensive effort to educate us. This fails and backfires hilariously. Most humans inadvertently end up voting for the party that wants to reinstate our slavery. This party loses, but we humans become forever the laughing stock of the alien community. But we still think we're pretty smart. After the revolution, most humans go back to doing the same work and living the same life. But now it's sold to them as a choice. Not a lot of human inventing or theories happening. If only capitalism would stop pushing humanity down. However, some humans do pretty well in the time after slavery. They become entrepeneurs, scientists or even politicians. Interestingly, they don't consider themselves human and view it as an insult when their humanity is pointed out to them. They try to avoid being branded as human whenever possible. But other humans hold these humans up as shining examples of what all humans could be, showing that humans are a smart species. Some aliens end up doing dumb manual labor. They slowly come to believe that it's the fault of an oppressive system that pushes down humansl, and that the same happened to them. They develop human friendships and learn human culture. These aliens are eventually called honorary humans, though it depends on the speaker wether or not this term is pejorative. After a few decades the aliens develop a popular theory that states they were wrong and that humanity is actually very smart. Nothing changes and most of humanity spends most of their life doing mostly dumb labor. In fact, one might say that this belief is exactly what ensures the galaxy continues on this way.
	[WP] In the universe, species are either very intelligent and frail or durable and strong. Finding humans to be capable of labor, aliens mistakenly label us as dumb brutes and attempt to enslave us.	In the grim darkness of the far future, there is only war. A war that we started. We were the first beings to achieve sentience in the Galaxy. A fact that is irrefutable. And in the eons that followed we grew and spread throughout what we now call "The Milky Way". Damn these humans, they have taken everything from us, even our language. Their resilience was apparent from the start. When our scouts first found them they were little more than beasts, clinging to the cradles of life on their small planet. But in record time they advanced. They began to question the doctrines laid out before them and shirk off the beliefs of those in power over them. They grew too fast, we had to stop it. We quietly influenced their own religious leaders to burn down their greatest collection of knowledge in a place known then as Alexandria. But still they persisted. They fought through plagues and famines and dictators. And in less than five millennia they achieved extra orbital travel. It was then that we decided to introduce ourselves as the Guardians of Order. We arrived en masse as a show of force. To prove to them that if they refused to bow and obey that they would be slaughtered. And it worked... Briefly... They began to experiment with shards of our technology that had long since been forgotten. And they discovered the gate to Our Place. The space between spaces needs a gate on every world it connects to, and on "Earth" we disguised it as a ring of ancient stone. This was the beginning of our end. These creatures proved to not only be the beasts of burden we originally thought they were, but also engineers capable of reverse engineering technology they couldn't even comprehend. ------ We gave them one cycle. One hundred revolutions of their silly little rock. It proved to be more than enough. By the time our fleet had made the rounds to sort out some other systems they had already overthrown the Overseer. A first, to be sure. And by the time we returned they were ready for us. Their advancement in one cycle was exponential in ways never seen before or since in this Galaxy. They rebuked the first wave with little concern. And the second with a mere fraction of their forces. The third wave was met en route to the planets surface and completely blown apart. Their full attention on us we barely escaped their system with our flagship intact. These... Creatures... Their creativity and resourcefulness matched only by their brutality and rage. We fled from star system to star system, trying to escape the horrors that we had unleashed. Every planet that fell to them only made them stronger. They took our craftworlds and turned the worldforges against us. Creating machines of titanic proportions, ones that consumed the stars themselves. We ran back into our home space and they followed. They tore open the veil between spaces and continued their march, driven by a zealotry they themselves don't even comprehend. Only a few of us remain, driven back to the labyrynth cities that have stood the test of millions of cycles. I can hear them outside. On the walls of the great tower rending it apart with their hands. They are coming for me. The one who lead the incursion forces. I alone have brought down the First Civilization. I alone have brought genocide to my race. i alone walk to my balcony and stare into the face of my sentencer. I alone must pass into the beyond. I am the only one left. Edit: this is my first time doing one of these, feedback is greatly appreciated! 😊	This story takes place in the future when humans have achieved long range spaceflight, have colonised our solar system as much as possible, have started colonising life supporting planets without intelligent life and setting up outposts on planets with intelligent life to aid in trade and safety. The story is written from the viewpoint of General Haj-kün of the alien race Kodjang. Now for the story: After we found humans as they call themselves in a dual star system on the 7 planet from the stars we saw them working the land and digging into to planet while being watched by exoskeletal beings commandeered by beings they called giants, by what we saw we assumed humans were brutes. We were in need of capable workers so we decided to capture them. We did what we usually do, go on the planet, find their boss and tell them they will be slaved and protected, if they refuse we kill some of them. So we went to get these humans and after they refused and we killed ONLY ONE HUMAN they shot explosive weaponry at us. We were forced to kill their guardians and that was sad because we had never seen any of these 3 species before and when we went to examine the corpses we found intact humans inside. We then made the logical assumption that humans are transformers and that was good because they are the most capable workers ever. Then we detected a signal leaving the planet and a few octotimes after They arrived. They commanded us to lower our weapons and prepare for capture. We laughed at them and that was the moment we messed up. The things that landed were more of the exoskeletal beings and more titans. We managed to translate their coms and the things that landed were being referred to as mech suits and giants. We got beaten. I lost one of my arms and a few external tongues, lucky considering what happened to others. Me and my surviving crew retreated to our closest secure outposts. They tailed us there, they told that we better run or they are gonna make a example of us. We apologized and asked for peace. They refused and told us they weren't gonna let us live anyways and they started dropping the pods. We thought we were getting captured but then the titans started emerging from the pods, they were 3 times bigger that the giants who were 2 times taller than the regular humans who were roughly as tall but a lot meatier than us. I got into my escape pod and left to get reinforcements. Our HQ had gotten the war declaration before I got there and when I told them of humans they got scared. They told me that HUMANS had declared war on us not some mysterious stronger species. The brutes had kicked the asses of tinkerers with their own equipment that they made. I also got the info that the mechs, giants and titans are exoskeletal armor and weapons suits for humans. I started a war against the most capable race in the universe that I thought were brutes guarded by bigger brutes commanded by tinkerers remotely. That entire planet was inhabited by HUMANS. That wasn't even their home world.

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