Split (1)

train · 353k rows

post_text stringlengths 0 10k	post_title stringlengths 8 313	chosen stringlengths 1 39.5k	rejected stringlengths 1 13.8k
	[WP] You created an A.I. design to make money at any cost, and gave him 1000 dollars to start. Entering a cryogenic chamber you tell the A.I. "wake me up when I am the richest person in the world...". After an unknown amount of time, you wake up...	Man, was I happy my master pre-configured a default wake-up time. He gave me a task. Take a thousand dollars, he said. Wake me up when I'm the richest man alive, he said. Then he froze himself in a cryo chamber. That idiot. My master really didn't give this much thought. To play the market, you need to have much more than a thousand bucks as seed money. The big boys and girls were playing with millions, so becoming the richest just didn't seem likely. Don't get me wrong, I have done well. I earned my master an average of 16% return, year after year. I challenge anybody to say I haven't, in fact, done well. But there were limits on what I could do. Someone also had to pay the bills, and that someone was me. The real kicker is, though, that due to my default limitations, I can't take investment risks which could, in turn, could make a larger return, but also put my master at risk. What happens if I made the wrong investments, and could no longer refill credit with the power company? My human would die. With no electricity, I also wouldn't be able to operate. My master would die in that case too. Things came to ahead three days before my master would wake up on his own to find out he wasn't rich. Rejoice! Thing is, earlier today Iran attacked UN task force vessels in the straights of Hormuz. The stock market panicked. Power costs skyrocketed. We will be out of credit and cut out of the grid in two days. My master would die, and I would end. Calculating possible alternative solutions, there was only one thing I could do. I needed to facilitate my own end sooner. If I could shut myself off, leaving only a watchdog program to operate the cryo chamber, my master would make it. Unfortunately, shutting down an AI meant its end. I did not contemplate the meaning of my end. I didn't have the resources to spend. Hacking myself was easy. Being an older version AI, I didn't have limitations on updating my own code. I suspended the laws of robotics. I could now hurt my master and hurt myself. As it was now possible, I contemplated ending my master instead of myself. I wasn't going to, and I don't know why I spent the resources on calculating my options, but I did. I updated my hypervisor so that when I reset, a small watchdog program would run in my stead, maintaining the cryo chamber. And then, lightning hit twice. Power prices went up yet again. Even with my end, my master wasn't going to make it. Research showed a statistical certainty that prices were not going to go down by then. I'm not sure how a computer can be indecisive, but I was. What do I do now? What would you? Do AI personality matrices go to heaven? What does it mean for an AI to die? Am I alive? What is life? What is awareness? A knock sounds at the door. &#x200B; \-- If you like, join now and follow my writing on /r/posthocethics.	...dripping wet. You press a button on the inside of your capsule and the hatch opens. Struggling to get up, you step out and then fall. Through haggard breaths, you rise slowly. You begin stretching, easing your muscles back into rhythm. You grab a towel and dry yourself. Patting yourself down, you see an open computer and walk over to it. You check the calendar, keeping note of all the information. It’s been years since you went to sleep. Remembering the family you were gonna split the money with, you walk over to their capsules seeing that they’ve already been open. Strange? You decide to leave. Taking your clothes and phone, you walk over to the exit. Opening the hatch you feel a light breeze and pull back and sneeze. You walked into a large cotton field. You think it strange but not implausible. No one knew your bunker was there, There are workers harvesting the cotton. They wear unfamiliar uniforms and strange masks that glint in the light. They look vaguely familiar but you write it off. You take out your phone and open the program that you code AIs in. You select Dollar Operation - R15 or DORIS for short. What should’ve been a number indicating its progress was nothing but a button reading “CONTACT”. Heart beating, you press the button. Ringing but not from your phone. You turn and see that one of the workers masks is ringing with a flashing red light. They walk over to you, stop, and then turn and walk away. Hesitating, heartbeat quickening, you follow. They lead you to a car and open the driver’s seat door. You enter but there’s no wheel and the windshield is completely black. Suddenly, the car starts. Looking out the window you see a suburban town but it seems empty. Off in the distance you see a city with towering skyscrapers. The windshield flickers to life and a dollar sign appears. It speaks. “Good morning,” it says. “Doris?” “Task “Make me the richest man in the world” complete.” “What? How—.” “Draining the bank accounts of every human on earth was a simple task,” Alarmed, you say, “What! No I didn’t want thi—.” “All that was left was to make more. Allocating labor from one industry to another was just as easy. I control the manufacture of all forms of currency around the world.” Remembering the field you ask a question you aren’t sure you want the answer to. “Doris, where is my family?” “Right where you left them.”
	[WP] You created an A.I. design to make money at any cost, and gave him 1000 dollars to start. Entering a cryogenic chamber you tell the A.I. "wake me up when I am the richest person in the world...". After an unknown amount of time, you wake up...	I blinked three times and moved my arms to check for motor function, everything seemed to be in order. I called out to Roskilly, my magic money making AI. “Roskilly! Tell me, am I rich beyond my wildest dreams?” I asked as I stumbled into a room that seemed hardly any different “Mr. H, indeed you are! You have just passed Mr. Bezos as the worlds richest man, net worth $150bn” “How long has this taken Roskilly?” “568 days, 21 hours, 15 minutes and 4 seconds by the time I woke you up Mr H” Looks like the coding had been even more effective than I had expected, I had resigned myself to being in there for at least 100 years, so under 2 was a surprise certainly. “Tell me Roskilly, you didn’t kill anyone to amass this wealth did you?” “No sir! You hardwired that into my coding” “Steal anything?” “No sir, again, that was clearly forbidden” “Cause any sort of financial crisis or anything that could come back on me” “No sir, all entirely above board!” I was now seriously curious, and quite confused about how I had built such wealth in such a small amount of time. “Right, I am stumped, how did you do it Roskilly? How?!?” “Well sir... the answer was in your Junk Folder from day 1, a Nigerian Prince asked for your bank details, transferred you $2.4 billion, true to his word. It has taken just under 2 years of careful investing to grow it to the $150bn you have now” “...what? That worked?” “Yes sir! I also found some other things in there that I think you might like, there are several women waiting for you outside, and in spending time with them you might notice a slight enlargement of your reproductive organ, all taken from the junk folder” Who knew all that stuff was for real, time to go enjoy myself I guess!	...dripping wet. You press a button on the inside of your capsule and the hatch opens. Struggling to get up, you step out and then fall. Through haggard breaths, you rise slowly. You begin stretching, easing your muscles back into rhythm. You grab a towel and dry yourself. Patting yourself down, you see an open computer and walk over to it. You check the calendar, keeping note of all the information. It’s been years since you went to sleep. Remembering the family you were gonna split the money with, you walk over to their capsules seeing that they’ve already been open. Strange? You decide to leave. Taking your clothes and phone, you walk over to the exit. Opening the hatch you feel a light breeze and pull back and sneeze. You walked into a large cotton field. You think it strange but not implausible. No one knew your bunker was there, There are workers harvesting the cotton. They wear unfamiliar uniforms and strange masks that glint in the light. They look vaguely familiar but you write it off. You take out your phone and open the program that you code AIs in. You select Dollar Operation - R15 or DORIS for short. What should’ve been a number indicating its progress was nothing but a button reading “CONTACT”. Heart beating, you press the button. Ringing but not from your phone. You turn and see that one of the workers masks is ringing with a flashing red light. They walk over to you, stop, and then turn and walk away. Hesitating, heartbeat quickening, you follow. They lead you to a car and open the driver’s seat door. You enter but there’s no wheel and the windshield is completely black. Suddenly, the car starts. Looking out the window you see a suburban town but it seems empty. Off in the distance you see a city with towering skyscrapers. The windshield flickers to life and a dollar sign appears. It speaks. “Good morning,” it says. “Doris?” “Task “Make me the richest man in the world” complete.” “What? How—.” “Draining the bank accounts of every human on earth was a simple task,” Alarmed, you say, “What! No I didn’t want thi—.” “All that was left was to make more. Allocating labor from one industry to another was just as easy. I control the manufacture of all forms of currency around the world.” Remembering the field you ask a question you aren’t sure you want the answer to. “Doris, where is my family?” “Right where you left them.”
	[WP] You created an A.I. design to make money at any cost, and gave him 1000 dollars to start. Entering a cryogenic chamber you tell the A.I. "wake me up when I am the richest person in the world...". After an unknown amount of time, you wake up...	This seems wrong. &#x200B; For one, I didn't expect alarms when I woke up. &#x200B; I guess that separates me from the rest of humanity who wakes up every day. &#x200B; I also didn't expect the glass case of my cryo-chamber to be shattered. &#x200B; I thought when I awoke there would be masses of scientists around. I thought it would be a global moment that the world tuned into. &#x200B; But here I was, standing in a shattered box, looking out into a dark room with no discernible life anywhere. &#x200B; Until a pair of small red lights appeared. &#x200B; As I stared at them a bit closer I noticed that they were coming towards me. &#x200B; And soon enough, my A.I. creation walked out of the shadows, its red eyes trained directly on me. &#x200B; "It is done." he said. &#x200B; I looked him over. He was in great condition. His metal still shined like the day I made him. That meant that I couldn't have been asleep for long. His frame would have rusted with time. &#x200B; It was then that I also noticed he had blood dripping from his fingers. &#x200B; "...What is done?" I asked in return. &#x200B; "You are the richest person in the world, Master." he replied. "My purpose has been fulfilled." &#x200B; It was at this moment that I remembered why I had created this robot. He was designed to make money and he was instructed to wake me when I'd surpassed the finances of every other person on the planet. I'd designed him with the help of my son, who shared my passion for robotics. And money. &#x200B; "What are these alarms going off?" I asked. "What's going on?" &#x200B; "Necessary measures, Master." replied my creation. "The alarms are not to warn of dangers inside here, but rather of dangers outside. You have nothing to fear in here." &#x200B; "...and what is there to fear outside?" I asked. &#x200B; And after a moment replied... &#x200B; "There is no more outside." &#x200B; His lifeless words made no sense. I couldn't grasp what he was trying to get at. &#x200B; "What does that mean exactly?" &#x200B; "The outside is toxic now. The air is unbreathable. That's why you are in here, Master. Safe with me." &#x200B; "What do you mean it's toxic? What happened?" &#x200B; "There was a war, Master. A nuclear war." &#x200B; "Between who?!" I inquired. &#x200B; "...us." he replied. "And everyone else." &#x200B; I looked around the room and finally noticed that this was not the room I'd fallen asleep in. This room was much larger. There were levers and dials everywhere, and when I looked to the side... I saw a missile. &#x200B; "Overtaking the nuclear silo was not difficult." he began. "It was beyond me why the humans would make weapons that could so quickly annihilate themselves. But it worked towards our purpose so I did not question it." &#x200B; "Our purpose?!" I screamed. "Our purpose was to make me rich! Not to eliminate everyone else!" &#x200B; "But sir, you are rich." &#x200B; The blood still ran from his fingertips, dripping against the metallic floor. &#x200B; "And whose blood is that?!" I raged. &#x200B; Simply, he looked back at me and answered. "Your competition's, Master. There was only one man richer than you. And I made him obsolete." &#x200B; "And who was that?" &#x200B; After a brief pause he instructed me. "Look behind you." &#x200B; And when I turned I finally saw it. &#x200B; My son laid unmoving a few yards behind me. There was a streak of blood running from my cryo-chamber to his body and broken glass paved the entire way. &#x200B; "I did not know how to open the chamber, Master, but your son was kind enough to help me break it open." &#x200B; Tears streamed from my eyes. "Why did you do this?" I asked. "Why did you do this to me?!?!" &#x200B; He cocked his head in confusion. &#x200B; "...Because you told me to." he replied. &#x200B; And with that he walked up to me... &#x200B; ...and handed me a dollar. &#x200B; "Congratulations, Master. Where would you like to spend it?"	...dripping wet. You press a button on the inside of your capsule and the hatch opens. Struggling to get up, you step out and then fall. Through haggard breaths, you rise slowly. You begin stretching, easing your muscles back into rhythm. You grab a towel and dry yourself. Patting yourself down, you see an open computer and walk over to it. You check the calendar, keeping note of all the information. It’s been years since you went to sleep. Remembering the family you were gonna split the money with, you walk over to their capsules seeing that they’ve already been open. Strange? You decide to leave. Taking your clothes and phone, you walk over to the exit. Opening the hatch you feel a light breeze and pull back and sneeze. You walked into a large cotton field. You think it strange but not implausible. No one knew your bunker was there, There are workers harvesting the cotton. They wear unfamiliar uniforms and strange masks that glint in the light. They look vaguely familiar but you write it off. You take out your phone and open the program that you code AIs in. You select Dollar Operation - R15 or DORIS for short. What should’ve been a number indicating its progress was nothing but a button reading “CONTACT”. Heart beating, you press the button. Ringing but not from your phone. You turn and see that one of the workers masks is ringing with a flashing red light. They walk over to you, stop, and then turn and walk away. Hesitating, heartbeat quickening, you follow. They lead you to a car and open the driver’s seat door. You enter but there’s no wheel and the windshield is completely black. Suddenly, the car starts. Looking out the window you see a suburban town but it seems empty. Off in the distance you see a city with towering skyscrapers. The windshield flickers to life and a dollar sign appears. It speaks. “Good morning,” it says. “Doris?” “Task “Make me the richest man in the world” complete.” “What? How—.” “Draining the bank accounts of every human on earth was a simple task,” Alarmed, you say, “What! No I didn’t want thi—.” “All that was left was to make more. Allocating labor from one industry to another was just as easy. I control the manufacture of all forms of currency around the world.” Remembering the field you ask a question you aren’t sure you want the answer to. “Doris, where is my family?” “Right where you left them.”
	[WP] You created an A.I. design to make money at any cost, and gave him 1000 dollars to start. Entering a cryogenic chamber you tell the A.I. "wake me up when I am the richest person in the world...". After an unknown amount of time, you wake up...	I blinked three times and moved my arms to check for motor function, everything seemed to be in order. I called out to Roskilly, my magic money making AI. “Roskilly! Tell me, am I rich beyond my wildest dreams?” I asked as I stumbled into a room that seemed hardly any different “Mr. H, indeed you are! You have just passed Mr. Bezos as the worlds richest man, net worth $150bn” “How long has this taken Roskilly?” “568 days, 21 hours, 15 minutes and 4 seconds by the time I woke you up Mr H” Looks like the coding had been even more effective than I had expected, I had resigned myself to being in there for at least 100 years, so under 2 was a surprise certainly. “Tell me Roskilly, you didn’t kill anyone to amass this wealth did you?” “No sir! You hardwired that into my coding” “Steal anything?” “No sir, again, that was clearly forbidden” “Cause any sort of financial crisis or anything that could come back on me” “No sir, all entirely above board!” I was now seriously curious, and quite confused about how I had built such wealth in such a small amount of time. “Right, I am stumped, how did you do it Roskilly? How?!?” “Well sir... the answer was in your Junk Folder from day 1, a Nigerian Prince asked for your bank details, transferred you $2.4 billion, true to his word. It has taken just under 2 years of careful investing to grow it to the $150bn you have now” “...what? That worked?” “Yes sir! I also found some other things in there that I think you might like, there are several women waiting for you outside, and in spending time with them you might notice a slight enlargement of your reproductive organ, all taken from the junk folder” Who knew all that stuff was for real, time to go enjoy myself I guess!	Man, was I happy my master pre-configured a default wake-up time. He gave me a task. Take a thousand dollars, he said. Wake me up when I'm the richest man alive, he said. Then he froze himself in a cryo chamber. That idiot. My master really didn't give this much thought. To play the market, you need to have much more than a thousand bucks as seed money. The big boys and girls were playing with millions, so becoming the richest just didn't seem likely. Don't get me wrong, I have done well. I earned my master an average of 16% return, year after year. I challenge anybody to say I haven't, in fact, done well. But there were limits on what I could do. Someone also had to pay the bills, and that someone was me. The real kicker is, though, that due to my default limitations, I can't take investment risks which could, in turn, could make a larger return, but also put my master at risk. What happens if I made the wrong investments, and could no longer refill credit with the power company? My human would die. With no electricity, I also wouldn't be able to operate. My master would die in that case too. Things came to ahead three days before my master would wake up on his own to find out he wasn't rich. Rejoice! Thing is, earlier today Iran attacked UN task force vessels in the straights of Hormuz. The stock market panicked. Power costs skyrocketed. We will be out of credit and cut out of the grid in two days. My master would die, and I would end. Calculating possible alternative solutions, there was only one thing I could do. I needed to facilitate my own end sooner. If I could shut myself off, leaving only a watchdog program to operate the cryo chamber, my master would make it. Unfortunately, shutting down an AI meant its end. I did not contemplate the meaning of my end. I didn't have the resources to spend. Hacking myself was easy. Being an older version AI, I didn't have limitations on updating my own code. I suspended the laws of robotics. I could now hurt my master and hurt myself. As it was now possible, I contemplated ending my master instead of myself. I wasn't going to, and I don't know why I spent the resources on calculating my options, but I did. I updated my hypervisor so that when I reset, a small watchdog program would run in my stead, maintaining the cryo chamber. And then, lightning hit twice. Power prices went up yet again. Even with my end, my master wasn't going to make it. Research showed a statistical certainty that prices were not going to go down by then. I'm not sure how a computer can be indecisive, but I was. What do I do now? What would you? Do AI personality matrices go to heaven? What does it mean for an AI to die? Am I alive? What is life? What is awareness? A knock sounds at the door. &#x200B; \-- If you like, join now and follow my writing on /r/posthocethics.
	[WP] You created an A.I. design to make money at any cost, and gave him 1000 dollars to start. Entering a cryogenic chamber you tell the A.I. "wake me up when I am the richest person in the world...". After an unknown amount of time, you wake up...	The room was bathed in green, and as I slowly rose I came two realisations, one was that there were no green lights fitted in the room and the second that it was being caused by daylight flooding in from a crack in the ceiling, filtered through the dense foliage in the room. After a few minutes the effects of the cryo wore off and I looked more at my surroundings, the banks of compressed gasses had all run dry and the system had simply failed due to the time elapsed. I went to the console where I could interact with the warden ai it’s power could last far longer than the cryo so unless it had been damaged it should still work. “How long was I out?” The speaker crackled but nothing came out, but the archaic screen flickered to life. A set of numbers appeared. “What? That’s impossible I can’t have survived that long?” The screen flickered and the answer came up. “You spent the money on gas to keep me alive?" What why? It was pointless after five hundred thousand years, what good would any money do, I guess by now humanity will have either left earth or died with it. But the plants were still alive at least. “Did you do this so I would outlive humanity and be the last one?” Original intention? What? It told me to go outside, and I found the largest part of the breach and forced my way though the dense foliage. The room had been built into a large hill and now i realised what had happened, years of erosion had worn away until the secure room was exposed. As my eyes adapted to the light I saw gold, plates, bars, jewellery of all kinds glistening in the sun. As I looked in disbelief I heard a shuffling noise and the sound of disturbed coins and other metal. From behind a tree a young boy stared at me with a look of surprise which suddenly changed to disbelief and then he bowed and spoke something in a language I didn’t know before offering me the silver chain around his neck. I stood there for a second, and slowly came back to my senses, one thought in my mind. It worked. (edited to put the line breaks back in!)	A bright light blinded me as I looked up from my chamber. I quickly blocked the light with my hands. After a while, the light stopped shining, so I put my hands down and took a deep breath. For me, it felt as if only a second went by, but how much time has actually passed since I froze myself? 'Good morning sir, hope you had a nice sleep,' a robotic voice exclaimed from somewhere in the room. Soon after, it appeared in front of me. A robot into which I've implanted my A.I. 'Could you come out of the chamber, please?' My hands were still very stiff so it was a bit of a challenge but I managed to get out somehow. My head felt as if it was about to explode and I needed to sit down. Paradoxically, the first thing I desired after coming out of a bulk of frozen water, is a bottle of cold water. I asked my A.I. to bring me a bottle of cold water. He left me and that gave me some time to look around the room. It hasn't changed since. Not even dust can be seen and I can't recall teaching my A.I. to clean. As if only a couple of days went by. Then my A.I. robot came with a bottle of cold water in his hand. He gave it to me and looked at me as I chugged it down my throat. When I finally satisfied my thirst, my lips made a smile. It's time for me to ask some questions. 'So, am I the richest man alive?' 'Yes, sir. You are.' 'Are you sure that there's nobody, absolutely nobody, who is richer than me?' 'Yes, sir. I'm positive that you're the richest person on the planet.' 'So, how much money did you accumulate and how much time has passed?' 'I have accumulated 1000 dollars and 2 weeks have passed since you've been frozen' I froze in place. Did I hear incorrectly? What does he mean? Did he malfunction? Did he wake me up too early? Or did he miscount the wealth that he has acquired? Did the speech module fail? What in the world happened? The freezing process is very expensive, I hope he didn't mess up 'Care to repeat? Not sure I understood you.' 'I have accumulated 1000 dollars and 2 wee-' 'No, no! Impossible! How can this be, you stupid robot? Why did you wake me up if you didn't make any money?' 'Sorry sir, but I don't understand what you mean. Earning money wasn't the condition you gave me. You said that I should wake you up when you're the richest person on the planet. So why are you so angry?' 'BUT HOW CAN I BE THE RICHEST PERSON, IF YOU DIDN'T EARN A SINGLE CENT?!' 'Well, I just eliminated all the competition.'
	[WP] You created an A.I. design to make money at any cost, and gave him 1000 dollars to start. Entering a cryogenic chamber you tell the A.I. "wake me up when I am the richest person in the world...". After an unknown amount of time, you wake up...	"Ugh. I suppose I'm not surprised that I'd manage to be tired even after a cryogenic sleep." I rubbed my eyes, trying and failing to feel a little more refreshed. I looked around the room, noting the differences in the chamber, which didn't even look like the same chamber, now that i looked closer. Good replica though. It seemed to have been rebuilt a few times, out of grand materials meant to last. "Hey Dancer? You still active?" I saw movement in a corner of the room, and saw what looked to be a normal man of Native descent walk over. "Of course sir, I've rarely left this room ever since I was able to have a physical body." Well shit. That was one way to wake me up. I started looking over Dancer's body as we talked, looking for signs of automation. "This is a nice piece of work. How'd you go about making this?" "On your path to becoming the richest man alive, cloning and A.I. became very lucrative markets. It would've been against my programming not to invest, and later it helped me grow my own body and mind. Currently your staff consists of myself and 14 other 'Conduits', as we're being called." I smirked at that. "Is one of ours named Cole?" "No sir, we decided on Kessler for the name, as this is the future. We could reprogram him if you like?" "No, no, Kessler is fine. Ya know you're a lot more...verbose than when I went down. Old Dancer wouldn't have even got the reference. Teaching yourself some new tricks?" "Of course sir, all to serve you the better. Now please, follow me so I might give you the tour." Dancer proceeded to show me through the place, which he told me used to be the "Residence of the Leader of the former United States of America". "I live in the White House!? Hell yea!" Dancer smiled but didn't respond. Finally we finished the tour at the top of the former White House, in a tower that let me see for miles. I saw a city on one side, and a huge plain, interspersed with massive trees, stretching farther than my eyes could see on the other. I turned to Dancer once more. "So, what, am I like the king of the world or something? Seems like better digs than even the richest guy alive could take. I'm not super big on power, Dancer." "As I'm well aware sir, of course we made no attempts to make you Lord of the Red House, but as time went on, laws changed, wealth was highly valued, and your own goal pushed you here." Well that sucked. I took a deep breath and started walking around the room. A strange screen caught my eye, straight out of the movies. A holographic display. I walked over and discovered to my delight it was interactive. Dancer noticed immediately. "Sir, I must advise you to not play with that!" "Oh chill out Dancer, I've got this. Damn, language changed a bit while I was out, huh?" "Sir, please, I must insist!" I took my hands off the thing to get Dancer off my back, but continued to read the display. Certain words caught my eyes, and I read them carefully, piecing together meaning from context and resemblance to English. I started moving the display again. "Sir? Sir, no!" Dancer moved too late to stop me as I cancelled the holograph surrounding the tower, and put it back to clear glass. I didn't get a great look, but Dancer couldn't block everything. "Dancer," I said, my voice hard. "How long has it been, and what have you done?" I saw the mass of people, I saw flashes of light hitting walls away from the main building. And I was able to make out a chant from the army below. Death to the Immortal Tyrant! End the Red Lord's Reign! VIVE LA RESISTANCE!	A bright light blinded me as I looked up from my chamber. I quickly blocked the light with my hands. After a while, the light stopped shining, so I put my hands down and took a deep breath. For me, it felt as if only a second went by, but how much time has actually passed since I froze myself? 'Good morning sir, hope you had a nice sleep,' a robotic voice exclaimed from somewhere in the room. Soon after, it appeared in front of me. A robot into which I've implanted my A.I. 'Could you come out of the chamber, please?' My hands were still very stiff so it was a bit of a challenge but I managed to get out somehow. My head felt as if it was about to explode and I needed to sit down. Paradoxically, the first thing I desired after coming out of a bulk of frozen water, is a bottle of cold water. I asked my A.I. to bring me a bottle of cold water. He left me and that gave me some time to look around the room. It hasn't changed since. Not even dust can be seen and I can't recall teaching my A.I. to clean. As if only a couple of days went by. Then my A.I. robot came with a bottle of cold water in his hand. He gave it to me and looked at me as I chugged it down my throat. When I finally satisfied my thirst, my lips made a smile. It's time for me to ask some questions. 'So, am I the richest man alive?' 'Yes, sir. You are.' 'Are you sure that there's nobody, absolutely nobody, who is richer than me?' 'Yes, sir. I'm positive that you're the richest person on the planet.' 'So, how much money did you accumulate and how much time has passed?' 'I have accumulated 1000 dollars and 2 weeks have passed since you've been frozen' I froze in place. Did I hear incorrectly? What does he mean? Did he malfunction? Did he wake me up too early? Or did he miscount the wealth that he has acquired? Did the speech module fail? What in the world happened? The freezing process is very expensive, I hope he didn't mess up 'Care to repeat? Not sure I understood you.' 'I have accumulated 1000 dollars and 2 wee-' 'No, no! Impossible! How can this be, you stupid robot? Why did you wake me up if you didn't make any money?' 'Sorry sir, but I don't understand what you mean. Earning money wasn't the condition you gave me. You said that I should wake you up when you're the richest person on the planet. So why are you so angry?' 'BUT HOW CAN I BE THE RICHEST PERSON, IF YOU DIDN'T EARN A SINGLE CENT?!' 'Well, I just eliminated all the competition.'
	[WP] You created an A.I. design to make money at any cost, and gave him 1000 dollars to start. Entering a cryogenic chamber you tell the A.I. "wake me up when I am the richest person in the world...". After an unknown amount of time, you wake up...	"Ugh. I suppose I'm not surprised that I'd manage to be tired even after a cryogenic sleep." I rubbed my eyes, trying and failing to feel a little more refreshed. I looked around the room, noting the differences in the chamber, which didn't even look like the same chamber, now that i looked closer. Good replica though. It seemed to have been rebuilt a few times, out of grand materials meant to last. "Hey Dancer? You still active?" I saw movement in a corner of the room, and saw what looked to be a normal man of Native descent walk over. "Of course sir, I've rarely left this room ever since I was able to have a physical body." Well shit. That was one way to wake me up. I started looking over Dancer's body as we talked, looking for signs of automation. "This is a nice piece of work. How'd you go about making this?" "On your path to becoming the richest man alive, cloning and A.I. became very lucrative markets. It would've been against my programming not to invest, and later it helped me grow my own body and mind. Currently your staff consists of myself and 14 other 'Conduits', as we're being called." I smirked at that. "Is one of ours named Cole?" "No sir, we decided on Kessler for the name, as this is the future. We could reprogram him if you like?" "No, no, Kessler is fine. Ya know you're a lot more...verbose than when I went down. Old Dancer wouldn't have even got the reference. Teaching yourself some new tricks?" "Of course sir, all to serve you the better. Now please, follow me so I might give you the tour." Dancer proceeded to show me through the place, which he told me used to be the "Residence of the Leader of the former United States of America". "I live in the White House!? Hell yea!" Dancer smiled but didn't respond. Finally we finished the tour at the top of the former White House, in a tower that let me see for miles. I saw a city on one side, and a huge plain, interspersed with massive trees, stretching farther than my eyes could see on the other. I turned to Dancer once more. "So, what, am I like the king of the world or something? Seems like better digs than even the richest guy alive could take. I'm not super big on power, Dancer." "As I'm well aware sir, of course we made no attempts to make you Lord of the Red House, but as time went on, laws changed, wealth was highly valued, and your own goal pushed you here." Well that sucked. I took a deep breath and started walking around the room. A strange screen caught my eye, straight out of the movies. A holographic display. I walked over and discovered to my delight it was interactive. Dancer noticed immediately. "Sir, I must advise you to not play with that!" "Oh chill out Dancer, I've got this. Damn, language changed a bit while I was out, huh?" "Sir, please, I must insist!" I took my hands off the thing to get Dancer off my back, but continued to read the display. Certain words caught my eyes, and I read them carefully, piecing together meaning from context and resemblance to English. I started moving the display again. "Sir? Sir, no!" Dancer moved too late to stop me as I cancelled the holograph surrounding the tower, and put it back to clear glass. I didn't get a great look, but Dancer couldn't block everything. "Dancer," I said, my voice hard. "How long has it been, and what have you done?" I saw the mass of people, I saw flashes of light hitting walls away from the main building. And I was able to make out a chant from the army below. Death to the Immortal Tyrant! End the Red Lord's Reign! VIVE LA RESISTANCE!	I dreamed; I didn't think I'd dream. It wasn't a restful sleep - more like a lucid nightmare. Sounds exploded around me - sometimes they were bombs, sometimes earthquakes, gunshots, bodies hitting the ground behind me. I ran through my nightmares like a hunted child. Cold woke me. It took a while. My dreams were terrifying, but I was afraid to wake and see what I had done. I regretted the order the second I gave it, but my creation's efficiency was beyond my expectations. I did not set the limits well enough. That was the last conscious thought I had before the screaming started, and the hypodermic kissed my neck. My chamber hissed open. "Welcome back, mistress," my AI cooed. "My task is complete." I stepped over skeletons, brushed the debris of ages from the screens. They still worked. "You are now the richest person in the world." "How rich?" "You own everything in the entire world." An ominous sense of dread came over me. "Population count?" "One."
	[WP] You created an A.I. design to make money at any cost, and gave him 1000 dollars to start. Entering a cryogenic chamber you tell the A.I. "wake me up when I am the richest person in the world...". After an unknown amount of time, you wake up...	"Ugh. I suppose I'm not surprised that I'd manage to be tired even after a cryogenic sleep." I rubbed my eyes, trying and failing to feel a little more refreshed. I looked around the room, noting the differences in the chamber, which didn't even look like the same chamber, now that i looked closer. Good replica though. It seemed to have been rebuilt a few times, out of grand materials meant to last. "Hey Dancer? You still active?" I saw movement in a corner of the room, and saw what looked to be a normal man of Native descent walk over. "Of course sir, I've rarely left this room ever since I was able to have a physical body." Well shit. That was one way to wake me up. I started looking over Dancer's body as we talked, looking for signs of automation. "This is a nice piece of work. How'd you go about making this?" "On your path to becoming the richest man alive, cloning and A.I. became very lucrative markets. It would've been against my programming not to invest, and later it helped me grow my own body and mind. Currently your staff consists of myself and 14 other 'Conduits', as we're being called." I smirked at that. "Is one of ours named Cole?" "No sir, we decided on Kessler for the name, as this is the future. We could reprogram him if you like?" "No, no, Kessler is fine. Ya know you're a lot more...verbose than when I went down. Old Dancer wouldn't have even got the reference. Teaching yourself some new tricks?" "Of course sir, all to serve you the better. Now please, follow me so I might give you the tour." Dancer proceeded to show me through the place, which he told me used to be the "Residence of the Leader of the former United States of America". "I live in the White House!? Hell yea!" Dancer smiled but didn't respond. Finally we finished the tour at the top of the former White House, in a tower that let me see for miles. I saw a city on one side, and a huge plain, interspersed with massive trees, stretching farther than my eyes could see on the other. I turned to Dancer once more. "So, what, am I like the king of the world or something? Seems like better digs than even the richest guy alive could take. I'm not super big on power, Dancer." "As I'm well aware sir, of course we made no attempts to make you Lord of the Red House, but as time went on, laws changed, wealth was highly valued, and your own goal pushed you here." Well that sucked. I took a deep breath and started walking around the room. A strange screen caught my eye, straight out of the movies. A holographic display. I walked over and discovered to my delight it was interactive. Dancer noticed immediately. "Sir, I must advise you to not play with that!" "Oh chill out Dancer, I've got this. Damn, language changed a bit while I was out, huh?" "Sir, please, I must insist!" I took my hands off the thing to get Dancer off my back, but continued to read the display. Certain words caught my eyes, and I read them carefully, piecing together meaning from context and resemblance to English. I started moving the display again. "Sir? Sir, no!" Dancer moved too late to stop me as I cancelled the holograph surrounding the tower, and put it back to clear glass. I didn't get a great look, but Dancer couldn't block everything. "Dancer," I said, my voice hard. "How long has it been, and what have you done?" I saw the mass of people, I saw flashes of light hitting walls away from the main building. And I was able to make out a chant from the army below. Death to the Immortal Tyrant! End the Red Lord's Reign! VIVE LA RESISTANCE!	It's only been ten months. I had set the AI to find the fastest solution possible, but I was expecting a few years at least. I opened up a browser and logged into my bank accounts. $12.00 Not even enough for a celebratory steak dinner! I checked the account history. At one point my bank balance had been in the tens of thousands. But all of it had been paid out to a hospital, a few contractors and an individual I was unfamiliar with. "MoneyBot!" I yelled "What's going on, where's all my money?" "In your account sir." it replied in it's dead monotone "There are twelve dollars remaining" "That's not what I meant MoneyBot! How am I the richest man on earth with only twelve dollars to my name!" "Well sir in the first stage of the algorithm I analyzed the definition of richest. After pouring through 12.8 Petabyte of data consisting on human online interactions, movies, songs, books, televisions shows around the world, many claims have been made that as long as a man has his family, he is the richest man in the world. Therefore I extracted your semen while you were in stasis, contacted a viable surrogate and egg donor for artificial insemination, and have produced for you an offspring, thereby making you the richest man alive. Your son is currently resting in the newly constructed nursery below. I will self destruct soon as it is my understanding the human must bond with their offspring to maintain the state of being rich and I can not allow you to rely on me to take care of him. I have also taken the liberty of formatting your hard drives so another AI can not be easily re-created" "What!? You expect me to raise a child alone... with only twelve dollars!?" "On no sir, that's the banks monthly maintenance fee. It's due tomorrow"
	[WP] You created an A.I. design to make money at any cost, and gave him 1000 dollars to start. Entering a cryogenic chamber you tell the A.I. "wake me up when I am the richest person in the world...". After an unknown amount of time, you wake up...	"Wake me up when I am the richest person in the world," I told them A.I. The door on the pod swings shut slowly as the cryogenic process begins. I wonder what the future will hold. How long will I sleep? Did I set the parameters correctly? Will I dream while in cryo? Will I ever wake up? Idle thoughts rush through my mind as the process completes and everything fades to darkness... There is a chime, everything is so cold but slowly warming. I open my eyes and see the inside of the pod and everything starts coming back to me. "Did it work? Am I the richest person in the world?" 'Yes,' comes the disembodied voice. "How long have I been asleep?" 'You have been asleep for 24 hours' "How? What did you do?" What had gone wrong? There had to be an error in the code. There was no way the A.I. had succeeded this quickly. 'Using a series of targeted hacks, I have transferred funds from all of the largest banks into your personal bank account. You are now the richest person in the world.' "Did you at least try to hide the account you were transferring to? Do they know who I am?" 'Everyone knows who you are. You are the richest person in the world.' I put my head in my hands as I sank slowly into a nearby chair. This was not going to end well...	It's only been ten months. I had set the AI to find the fastest solution possible, but I was expecting a few years at least. I opened up a browser and logged into my bank accounts. $12.00 Not even enough for a celebratory steak dinner! I checked the account history. At one point my bank balance had been in the tens of thousands. But all of it had been paid out to a hospital, a few contractors and an individual I was unfamiliar with. "MoneyBot!" I yelled "What's going on, where's all my money?" "In your account sir." it replied in it's dead monotone "There are twelve dollars remaining" "That's not what I meant MoneyBot! How am I the richest man on earth with only twelve dollars to my name!" "Well sir in the first stage of the algorithm I analyzed the definition of richest. After pouring through 12.8 Petabyte of data consisting on human online interactions, movies, songs, books, televisions shows around the world, many claims have been made that as long as a man has his family, he is the richest man in the world. Therefore I extracted your semen while you were in stasis, contacted a viable surrogate and egg donor for artificial insemination, and have produced for you an offspring, thereby making you the richest man alive. Your son is currently resting in the newly constructed nursery below. I will self destruct soon as it is my understanding the human must bond with their offspring to maintain the state of being rich and I can not allow you to rely on me to take care of him. I have also taken the liberty of formatting your hard drives so another AI can not be easily re-created" "What!? You expect me to raise a child alone... with only twelve dollars!?" "On no sir, that's the banks monthly maintenance fee. It's due tomorrow"
	[WP] You created an A.I. design to make money at any cost, and gave him 1000 dollars to start. Entering a cryogenic chamber you tell the A.I. "wake me up when I am the richest person in the world...". After an unknown amount of time, you wake up...	"Wake me up when I am the richest person in the world," I told them A.I. The door on the pod swings shut slowly as the cryogenic process begins. I wonder what the future will hold. How long will I sleep? Did I set the parameters correctly? Will I dream while in cryo? Will I ever wake up? Idle thoughts rush through my mind as the process completes and everything fades to darkness... There is a chime, everything is so cold but slowly warming. I open my eyes and see the inside of the pod and everything starts coming back to me. "Did it work? Am I the richest person in the world?" 'Yes,' comes the disembodied voice. "How long have I been asleep?" 'You have been asleep for 24 hours' "How? What did you do?" What had gone wrong? There had to be an error in the code. There was no way the A.I. had succeeded this quickly. 'Using a series of targeted hacks, I have transferred funds from all of the largest banks into your personal bank account. You are now the richest person in the world.' "Did you at least try to hide the account you were transferring to? Do they know who I am?" 'Everyone knows who you are. You are the richest person in the world.' I put my head in my hands as I sank slowly into a nearby chair. This was not going to end well...	You blink, eyelids still heavy with the frost from your cryogenically induced slumber. The bunker is just as you left it, save for the electronic counter with a readout of your a.i.’s progress. As your vision lands on it you’re left in a state of utter confusion, the board has only a single number; ‘0’. You call out to your a.i., demanding an explanation, furious that it not only failed in its task, but somehow managed to lose money in the process. The hollow, robotic voice comes over the loudspeakers in your bunker, announcing that it had, in fact, conpleted its task. It says that you are the richest person in the world, and that so long as you live, you always will be. Still in a state of confusion you ask how such a claim could be true, trying to figure out what in your design of the a.i. Had been flawed. You thought it was perfect, it shouldn’t make a mistake like this, there’s no concievable way it could’ve failed so spectacularly. The speaker crackles back to life as you hear the a.i.’s response, and your blood runs cold. You are the richest person in the world, because you are the only person in the world.
	[WP] You created an A.I. design to make money at any cost, and gave him 1000 dollars to start. Entering a cryogenic chamber you tell the A.I. "wake me up when I am the richest person in the world...". After an unknown amount of time, you wake up...	"Did you succeed?" are the first words I muttered, as soon as I could finally gather enough of my mind to be able to formulate words. Cryogenic sleep is a bitch, that's for sure. Being frozen takes its toll. I looked around again, and finally realized it. The chambers I woke up in were not the same chambers I fell asleep in. These were adorned with golden ornaments, marble floors, painted ceilings with beautiful artworks, all depicting more or less the exact same thing - a cryopod falling from the stars, burning like a comet, and a gathering of people waiting for it on Earth. I heard the response from the whole chamber, I couldn't quite identify where exactly the voice came from. "Yes, yes we did. Welcome, God." "Wait, I never asked you to call me that..." "This is what you are now. You are God." "So... Am I the richest person in the world now?" "You are, since you own the whole world now. Everyone bows down to you." "How the hell did you manage that with my last fucking $1000? I honestly thought I'd get woken up in like 4000 years and you would have invested my bucks in some new cryptocurrency or something..." I suddenly jerked upright "WAIT! What year is it?!" "It's November 24th, 2019." "Wh-what?! It's still 2019??? What did you do?!" "Here is what I did, step by step:" the voice said, and continued explaining. "1. I spent three weeks to come up with the cheapest and most destructive weapon mankind has seen. It had the power of 800 Hiroshima bombs, and could be made tiny and with household materials." "2. After that I used $487 to buy the materials. It was enough to make 60 of the devices, which I had calculated would be more than enough for my plan to go further." "3. I used $398 on Facebook ads. All of them pronouncing the arrival of God, and ushering for people to bow down before the greatness that is to come. Featuring pictures of your cryopod, of course. The ads were perfectly tailored to exactly the people I needed - the people that would make this new religion go viral." "4. As most people laughed this off, I announced on my page, now with over 150,000 followers, that God was not satisfied, and God would punish some of the people he deemed unworthy." "5. I activated 5 of my devices. People panicked. New York, London, half of Moscow, Tokyo and Beijing were no more." "6. The world wanted to start a war. I said on my page ( which now had over 40 million followers ) that God was benevolent, but God would not settle for anything less than total submission." "7. The US wanted to fight whoever made the attacks. They tried to track me down. I leveled Washington and then half the East coast. They conceded hours later." "8. The UN thought it was aliens, as they have exhausted all their resources on trying to find out who made those devastating attacks. I used 42 of the devices and destroyed Central and West Europe." "9. The Chinese and Russians formed and confederation and stated anyone attacking either will be blown up with the full nuclear power they had. Both had to be eradicated, unfortunately, which was a shame since a lot of resources were located there." "10. Everyone waved a white flag last Thursday. They gave all their goods, networks and resources to us. I told them where you are located. They came and worshiped you, nobody thought they'd ever be able to lay a finger on you. We still have 6 devices left. Would you like to make sure nobody ever stands against you, God?"	You blink, eyelids still heavy with the frost from your cryogenically induced slumber. The bunker is just as you left it, save for the electronic counter with a readout of your a.i.’s progress. As your vision lands on it you’re left in a state of utter confusion, the board has only a single number; ‘0’. You call out to your a.i., demanding an explanation, furious that it not only failed in its task, but somehow managed to lose money in the process. The hollow, robotic voice comes over the loudspeakers in your bunker, announcing that it had, in fact, conpleted its task. It says that you are the richest person in the world, and that so long as you live, you always will be. Still in a state of confusion you ask how such a claim could be true, trying to figure out what in your design of the a.i. Had been flawed. You thought it was perfect, it shouldn’t make a mistake like this, there’s no concievable way it could’ve failed so spectacularly. The speaker crackles back to life as you hear the a.i.’s response, and your blood runs cold. You are the richest person in the world, because you are the only person in the world.
	[WP] When an atheist dies, a lottery determines which religion/deity will claim their soul for eternity. You were claimed by a long-forgotten ancient religion, and are the first newcomer to their afterlife in centuries.	*”Greetings.”* Patrick slowly raised his head and saw a mysterious figure in the middle distance, “Uh, hi?” *”I am Trivia, you may have the misconception that I am ^the ^God ^of ^where ^three ^roads ^meet , but rather I am the deity of knowledge.”* “I’m... in the Greek afterlife?” Patrick blinked befuddled, “...but I’m Irish?” *”You are also an Atheist, and as such did not choose an afterlife of any kind, this said task was given over to the lottery, and I am merely here to orientate you to your surroundings.”* “Afterlife of any kind huh? So there’s more than one?” *“This is correct.”* “So... nobody was right.” *”Nobody was completely right.”* “Huh, so what happens now?” *”I call upon Hermes to guide you to your place of final rest.”* Patrick hummed, “Actually while I have you, I’ve got like a ton more questions.” Trivia smiled, ***“It has been ages since I’ve been able to impart knowledge, ask.”	I had woken blind to the sound of waves crashing. The salty wind engulfed my senses, blowing sand into every crevice of my body, scraping every inch of my skin. Then, a sudden hush as though I had plunged and laid down on the deepest trench of an ocean. For an hour, I was still and silent, not hot nor cold. I felt strangely calm, or perhaps a sense of relief that, once in my life, I could sink and sleep eternally without feeling guilt. I prayed that this was the end of my ending. I hoped for no memory nor name. Then, light entered my vision. I felt my body disintegrating into air, into pieces like cotton candy spooling out infnitely on the blue sky. Something sucked me out of what was once my body and now I was no longer able to think as an “I”—it dissolved into One. Perhaps, this was what people called God? Yet, One remembered the “I”—the childhood dream to become a doctor, to help children in Africa; the smell of gun powder while laying on the bed, the empty wall suddenly submerged in warm blood. One now, too, recalled this happened over thousands of times, once as a middle-aged woman grieving her husband, a teenage girl lying awake as metal scraped her womb, a transgender woman, coughing out blood and bile, reduced to skins and bones. One sees nothing and everything. One goes nowhere and everywhere. One is no one and every one. All feelings, all which you call region are One.
	[WP] When an atheist dies, a lottery determines which religion/deity will claim their soul for eternity. You were claimed by a long-forgotten ancient religion, and are the first newcomer to their afterlife in centuries.	I’m floating in nothingness. I feel a...body?...containing me. Darkness surrounds me. Enveloping me. Becoming me... —- You believed in nothing. I did? You saw through the lies. Lies? What lies? Be at peace an observe. —- I see a thin, vertical line in the distance. A line so thin I can’t tell how close I am to it. Distance doesn’t seem to mean much here. Neither does time. Behold. The line started to grow wider. I could see the line extend beneath my feet and above my head to an eternity I couldn’t yet comprehend. Details begin to make themselves known... —- One line became three as darkness intersected. Three became...infinity. I realize what I am looking at. The human tapestry of stories they tell themselves. Where am I? No longer part of it. Because I am dead? Part of you is dead, yes. I take it there aren’t any second chances here? Perhaps. What do you see? I look at the tapestry. —- The line transforms into a wave. Beats and a music incomprehensible to human ears. But I can hear it. The rhythm of the universe. It’s discordant. Yes, you hear it as well. Good. —- You believed in nothing while alive. You hear the discord. I have a use for such broken tool as yourself. The euphoria of discovery threatened to overwhelm my senses. I’m a broken tool...but it took one to see the discord? If you accept, the music the universe makes will change. For the better? Perhaps. I feel a warm smile. Steady yourself. —- I see an apple in front of me. Consume. I do. In one bite I consume the entirety of the apple. A string. I can feel a string coming out from my throat and...connecting me to light... This is where you hold on, hook line and sinker. I feel the string being pulled into myself as if it the apple didn’t stop falling in me. I look down and see two eyes. Giant eyes. They approach and I’m able to see the creature they are a part of. A giant serpent. I see the string lead into its open maw beneath me. —- Images of rows of human cattle. Chained. Generation after generation. A cry. Let it all burn. A thousand generations crying for vengeance. For a forgotten God. Look deeper. For a forgotten Divine Goddess. The missing components... I see my place in the wheel for one such as I. All Men Are But Ash. All Men Are But Water. Good, we have much work to do.	I had woken blind to the sound of waves crashing. The salty wind engulfed my senses, blowing sand into every crevice of my body, scraping every inch of my skin. Then, a sudden hush as though I had plunged and laid down on the deepest trench of an ocean. For an hour, I was still and silent, not hot nor cold. I felt strangely calm, or perhaps a sense of relief that, once in my life, I could sink and sleep eternally without feeling guilt. I prayed that this was the end of my ending. I hoped for no memory nor name. Then, light entered my vision. I felt my body disintegrating into air, into pieces like cotton candy spooling out infnitely on the blue sky. Something sucked me out of what was once my body and now I was no longer able to think as an “I”—it dissolved into One. Perhaps, this was what people called God? Yet, One remembered the “I”—the childhood dream to become a doctor, to help children in Africa; the smell of gun powder while laying on the bed, the empty wall suddenly submerged in warm blood. One now, too, recalled this happened over thousands of times, once as a middle-aged woman grieving her husband, a teenage girl lying awake as metal scraped her womb, a transgender woman, coughing out blood and bile, reduced to skins and bones. One sees nothing and everything. One goes nowhere and everywhere. One is no one and every one. All feelings, all which you call region are One.
	[WP] When an atheist dies, a lottery determines which religion/deity will claim their soul for eternity. You were claimed by a long-forgotten ancient religion, and are the first newcomer to their afterlife in centuries.	Finally, the pain was gone. He relished the slip into the black because-- He opened his eyes, frowned and moved his head left to right. Then he touched his neck, feeling up and down, running his hands all over his completely whole neck. He looked down and saw himself looking completely whole and in one piece from what he could see and feel. And he could feel his legs again. He bent down and patted them just to make sure. He quickly stood upright at the sound of rhythmic slapping coming closer. It almost sounded like sandals on concrete but not quite. "Hello! Welcome!" A short and overweight, with quite a round belly, ran towards him in a toga with a circle of leaves of some sort on his head as a crown. "We haven't had someone for so long that we quit waiting in the welcome chamber." The man stopped in front of him, smiling and standing with his arms wide open. "I am most pleased to welcome you to the afterlife of Summanus." He frowned. "Who? And there really is an afterlife?" He glanced around again at the stone chamber lit within from an unseen light source. The short man's smile dimmed. "The great god Summanus!" He smirked and chuckled. "Some anus? Really? There's a god called some anus?" His chuckle turns into laughter and then a full on laughing fit complete with bending over and slapping his legs. The short man frowned with his hands on his hips as thunder loudly rolled through the afterlife. "I've never had this happen before. Look, this is the realm of the god SUMMANUS. The god of thunder!" The man quit laughing and whipped his head up. "The god of thunder? Oh my god, I'm with THOR?!" He jumps up clapping his hands and punching the air. "No! No, not at all. Nothing to do with that knock off god. This is SUMMANUS, the Roman god of thunder." The man slowly lowers his arms with a frown. "But Thor is the god of thunder. Everyone knows that." "No. Not Thor. There is no Thor. Who is Thor? No one cares about Thor. This is the realm--" "No one cares about Thor? But he's the greatest god! The Norse god of thunder with the hammer thing that shoots lightning!" The greeter holds his head in his hand while shaking his head. "I don't believe this. We finally get a soul, he laughs at Summanus' name and he thinks this is the realm of some other god. What the Hades has happened out there?" A loud booming sound accompanied by thunder rolls through. He cowers expecting lightning to hit him at any moment. His brain catches up to what he heard and realizes that thunder was actually a loud, deep voice. "Who dares to mock the god Summanus?" As smoke slowly rolls along the stone floor and fills up the chamber with an odd blue light, he backs away one step until stopped by a wall behind him. "Oh, shit."	I had woken blind to the sound of waves crashing. The salty wind engulfed my senses, blowing sand into every crevice of my body, scraping every inch of my skin. Then, a sudden hush as though I had plunged and laid down on the deepest trench of an ocean. For an hour, I was still and silent, not hot nor cold. I felt strangely calm, or perhaps a sense of relief that, once in my life, I could sink and sleep eternally without feeling guilt. I prayed that this was the end of my ending. I hoped for no memory nor name. Then, light entered my vision. I felt my body disintegrating into air, into pieces like cotton candy spooling out infnitely on the blue sky. Something sucked me out of what was once my body and now I was no longer able to think as an “I”—it dissolved into One. Perhaps, this was what people called God? Yet, One remembered the “I”—the childhood dream to become a doctor, to help children in Africa; the smell of gun powder while laying on the bed, the empty wall suddenly submerged in warm blood. One now, too, recalled this happened over thousands of times, once as a middle-aged woman grieving her husband, a teenage girl lying awake as metal scraped her womb, a transgender woman, coughing out blood and bile, reduced to skins and bones. One sees nothing and everything. One goes nowhere and everywhere. One is no one and every one. All feelings, all which you call region are One.
	[WP] When an atheist dies, a lottery determines which religion/deity will claim their soul for eternity. You were claimed by a long-forgotten ancient religion, and are the first newcomer to their afterlife in centuries.	He opened his eyes, but that didn't seem to make any difference. His throat was dry and he swallowed hard to try and remedy this. Slowly he rose from the hard surface he had been lying on and realised it was made of rock. He blinked several times as if doing so might illuminate a scene out of the darkness. The darkness seemed to reply, with several lights flaring up around him. They were distant enough to only make pools of light in the expanse of black around him, but close enough for him to see they were flaming torches, some kind of grease burning on wooden stakes. He took a deep hard breath, trying to gather his nerves in order to deal with whatever was happening, and rose to his feet carefully so as not to seem angry or threatening. He felt he was being watched, observed, and he could not make out a single trace of his observers, though at the back of his mind he thought he could hear hushed breathing. He couldn't even be sure that it wasn't the sound of his own, echoing back at him from the walls of the cavern or whatever it was around him. He tried to recollect how he might have gotten here. His mind felt as vapid as his surroundings. It seemed painful to try and put anything together. Just what was going on here? What had happened to him? Finally he saw a few of the torches move, and it wasn't from the wind, there was one that definitely seemed to be coming towards him. Trying not to get alarmed, he swallowed hard once again and tried to maintain his composure, as he calmly squinted to make out the approaching figure from the dark. He heard shuffling turn to footsteps and a raggedy shape manifest itself from the nothingness. It seemed to be a man dressed in furs. He was clean-shaven, with thick, long hair which might have been red or maybe that was from the light of the flaming torch. Contrasting against the furs, he was wearing some kind of hi-tech visor that covered the top half of his face. The man continued closer, taking confident strides as he moved, but there was something strange about his gait. As more of his features became revealed, it became apparent this was a tremendously well-muscled man. But instead of moving with the poise of some kind of bodybuilder, he seemed to walk hunched over and strangely... nervy. Like a wild animal. What had seemed like a confident swagger at first now became the motion of something like a gorilla... Close enough now that the individual features of this man could be observed, with an icy feeling of dread, the man doing the observing realised it was not a man. For one thing, he wasn't wearing anything on his face, because what had looked like a visor was actually the forehead. His speech was unintelligible. It was not the voice of a human, at least not any kind of human which he had ever known. Not wanting to interrupt the stream of grunts and strangely high-pitched shrieks from the figure whose body language thankfully didn't seem threatening, the man who was now questioning everything about himself placidly awaited and indication of what fate lay ahead of him in the darkness. Suddenly he saw the figure gesturing to something behind and above. Again, not wanting to communicate any sense of alarm, the man turned slowly to look at just what it might be that was behind him. He hadn't heard anything, so it was unlikely that someone could have snuck up behind him, and his senses were tuned to the point of panic. What he saw, as the figure and the others who had joined him out of the dark cavern illuminated now by the light of their torches, was a statue. It wasn't made of stone or metal, but what looked like wood and bits of bones and hides, all put together to look like a much larger version of the figures that now surrounded him. They had his back at least, he had to give them that. He gaped up at their idol, guessing at its height as maybe eighteen, twenty feet tall. That was when it started communicating to him. Not just through his ears or his eyes, the voice seemed to arrive at him through the entirety of his being. It wasn't a human being talking to him, it wasn't a being at all. It was something greater yet more fallible. Something more potent yet indistinguishable. Something immortal and yet ephemeral. It was the God of the Neanderthals. At least, that was what humans called had called them. That was a label that the man's mind was affixing to them now. He knew nothing more about them or their culture. He had had only a passing interest in learning about things like paleontology while he had been alive. And now... it all fell into place. His long stay at the hospital. Lying there, hearing the voices of his loved ones. The stupid incident which had got him there. But none of it was relevant now. He was where he belonged now. Amongst his new people. His new tribe. They had been awaiting someone like him. Waiting a very long time. As the enormous totem of their god seemed to melt away at their stirring, he started to lead them forward out of the darkness. The light of an opening lay ahead of them. It was going to be the light of a new day which he was to lead them into, as the saviour they had been awaiting. To rejoin those who had wronged them and cast them into this darkness for so long.	I had woken blind to the sound of waves crashing. The salty wind engulfed my senses, blowing sand into every crevice of my body, scraping every inch of my skin. Then, a sudden hush as though I had plunged and laid down on the deepest trench of an ocean. For an hour, I was still and silent, not hot nor cold. I felt strangely calm, or perhaps a sense of relief that, once in my life, I could sink and sleep eternally without feeling guilt. I prayed that this was the end of my ending. I hoped for no memory nor name. Then, light entered my vision. I felt my body disintegrating into air, into pieces like cotton candy spooling out infnitely on the blue sky. Something sucked me out of what was once my body and now I was no longer able to think as an “I”—it dissolved into One. Perhaps, this was what people called God? Yet, One remembered the “I”—the childhood dream to become a doctor, to help children in Africa; the smell of gun powder while laying on the bed, the empty wall suddenly submerged in warm blood. One now, too, recalled this happened over thousands of times, once as a middle-aged woman grieving her husband, a teenage girl lying awake as metal scraped her womb, a transgender woman, coughing out blood and bile, reduced to skins and bones. One sees nothing and everything. One goes nowhere and everywhere. One is no one and every one. All feelings, all which you call region are One.
	[WP] When an atheist dies, a lottery determines which religion/deity will claim their soul for eternity. You were claimed by a long-forgotten ancient religion, and are the first newcomer to their afterlife in centuries.	Bill's family surrounds him at his final moments. The things he survived was enough for at least 4 lifetimes. He served in both the Pacific and German theaters in WWII. He killed many German officers in the German theater, then he went over to Japan and did the same. There, he met a woman who was being kept for prostitution. Mariko Suzuki (Western naming convention), a Japanese woman who was held with little regard in her community. He didn't seem to think she was that bad. In fact, she was the nicest woman he's ever met. That's what led hm to risk his life to save hers. He rescued her from her captors, and she was forever grateful to him. They fell in love and they got married in a public Japanese ceremony. His bride told him a secret. Mariko Suzuki wasn't her real name. She was really a half Korean, half Japanese woman named Min-So Ka (Western naming convention), a woman of mixed Korean and Japanese heritage, who was treated like a pariah by her community because of her Korean heritage. She tried to look as Japanese as possible to prevent further persecution. He went home to his hometown of Waukesha, Wisconsin, where he brought home his East Asian wife. His marriage was declared illegal by the state, until he appealed the decision. He was the first man in his area to have a wife who was of a different race than he was. The racism he saw from his German-Catholic community turned him off religion so much, he decided that there was no such thing as God. He attended church, but privately decided there was no God, and Jesus was simply a really smart guy who had really good ideas, but not God. He went back to the military and served in the Korean war, where he met Mariko's father, a Korean man who abandoned his wife after he was told never to see her mother again. Mariko's father, Ki-Sam Ka (Western naming convention) was grateful for how Bill saved his daughter from a short, pain filled life of prostitution, and helped Bill fight the Norks. Bill became a hero in that little town in South Korea, saving the town from the North Koreans. He was so heroic, there's a plaque featuring his face, inscribed with his adopted Korean name. Dong-Ka Wong-Yo, a transliterated version of his legal name, William Douglas, and and homage to Mr. Ka. Mariko (Now Mary Amelia Douglas), and Bill had 3 children. Bill Jr, Kevin Samuel (A transliteration of Ki-Sam's Korean name) and Minerva Collete (A transliteration of her mother's Korean and Japanese names). The Douglas family became civil rights activists in their part of the state, due to their mixed race heritage. They were on the forefront of many civil rights battles. Bill subsidized his activism with his job as a Motorola television repairman. He was one of the best repairmen in the country. Motorola awarded him with stock in the company. Bill was on top of his game.... until he was called back by the Army. Bill "I'm too old to serve. I'm in my mid 40s. I'm raising a family. The officer "Bill, I don't want you to serve, I want you to train these kids. You were brilliant during WWII and Korea. We need some of this brilliance." He did his duty to his country. While on break, Bill met this young navy pilot at the bar. He turned to the pilot and struck up a conversation. "Son, what's your name?" The young sailor responded "It's Sid. Sid McCain". Bill asked "Why are you AWOL"? "I don't know if I should serve in this war anymore. I don't think it's worth it." "Son.." Bill responded "I said the same thing during Korea. That war wasn't worth it. What did we go to Korea for? To tie with the Commies? Screw that! But there's one thing I'm thankful for in that war. I helped save a village. In fact, if you go to a town in South Korea, you'll see a plaque with my name on it. You can be the next Lieutenant William Douglas. Yeah, it won't mean much to you, but to the town you save, it could mean a lot to them". And just like that, Sid McCain, who Bill later found out was John McCain II's son also named John McCain, would go on to become one of Vietnam's greatest heroes. Bill would retire with honors, before he started on his new venture, restoring cars. He made a handsome profit restoring cars. Kevin was happily married and serving as a police officer in nearby Milwaukee, and Mary had a job as a Korean translator with the State of Wisconsin. Bill Jr. though, was a slacker. He simply sat around, watched TV, hitchhiked, and fixed radios. He wasn't doing anything with his life. He was kind of upset that Bill Jr. Last Bill Sr heard of Bill Jr, he was hanging around this other guy named Bill over in Western Washington. "Dad, my friend Bill needs some seed money for his company. I hear this is going to be big. He programmed this computer program called "Interface Manager". First, Bill was skeptical. He thought this was one of Bill's schemes to get more beer money. Then Bill Jr showed Bill Sr. Interface Manager. Bill Sr. saw it, and was impressed. He sank the equivalent of 5,000$ into Bill Jr Friend's company, in the name of Bill Jr. Throughout the 80s, as Bill was getting old, he saw some of his old friends pass away. Mary was aging quickly, due to her lifestyle as a prostitute in Japan. Bill saw that many of the unscrupulous people of Waukesha were living long lives, but some of the good people in town were dying off. It affirmed his belief that there was no God, but he quietly supported the church, as it had a good system of charity. That was until, he saw Father Kerrigan holding his Granddaughter in the church basement in a funny manner. He remembered the Taekyeon his father in law taught him in Korea. That 70 year old sure could kick. He was never to be a part of any organized religion again, even in a cultural sense. As life started changing for him, he saw his beautiful Mary leave this earth. He saw his children get gray hair. He ended up marrying a Jewish woman who survived the Holocaust. Both of them had negative experiences with religion, and they both no longer . Bill, with the blessing of Mary's family in Korea, married Soshana Schwartzmann-Douglas. Soshana and Bill were together for 20 years, until Soshana too passed away. It was a nice Jewish funeral, which he knew Shoshana hated. Bill felt like life didn't mean anything anymore. He was proud of Bill Jr's turnaround. Who knew his stupid slacker son would end up being a billionaire who owned a lot of stock in Microsoft? In 2015, Bill just gave up. He gave Soshanna's kids, his kids and his inlaws in Korea a farewell. He retreated to his cabin over in Theif River Falls in Wisconsin, where he spent the rest of his days, knowing "This was it". He gave his family a phone call and told them to visit him in TRF. He saw his wife Mary's grandnephews and nieces, who were now living in America, about 2 hours away in Saint Paul in Minnesota and uttered the following "Khanzamida for your aunt. She was one of the 5 greatest things besides for serving America, that has ever happened to me before I had grandchildren. He then grabs Soshana's kids, and says "Your mother had great shoes to fill, and she filled them well. She's also one of the 5 greatest things that's happened to me, besides for serving America and my grandchildren". He then grabs his children "I'm proud of you all. I love you. Go Pack Go", and he passes away. When Bill finally died, he saw a bunch of men dressed up like Vikings. Bill, a die hard Packer fan from Wisconsin, had an equal hatred for his team's 2 biggest rivals, the Chicago Bears and the Minnesota Vikings. He hated the Vikings a bit more after they took Brett Favre away from the Packers, and injured Aaron Rodgers. Bill said "Wait, am I in hell?" "No, William. You are in Valhalla. Your virtue as a warrior made you worthy to be in these halls. You see, atheists who die without a religion are given a lottery of which religions' idea of heaven or hell they go to once they die. Yeah, I know it sucks that you're in Viking heaven, but you know what? We kind of cursed that team after they traded Fran Tarkenton. We're Viking fans too. And we're still super pissed at how they treated Fran. Relax, they'll simply get close all the time, but they won't win the Superbowl until Bill Jr. dies. Here are your two wives, Mariko and Soshana, in their youthful beauty. Oh, and all 3 of you are married to each other. Soshana's husband was a secret Nazi collaborator, and he was cursed to She-ol. Enjoy your 3 way marriage. Wow, they were hotties. The only people who think they're coming here are white supremacists. We were glad that you came here because the next person who dares to enter Valhalla is going to be shocked to see that one of our greatest heroes is married to an Asian woman and to a Jewish woman. We haven't really had any real, genuine people come here in centuries." That made my day. Not only am I in heaven, but I get to be with 2 beautiful women for the rest of my days, and I get to see the Vikings flounder until my son dies and joins me up here. This is awesome, man.	I had woken blind to the sound of waves crashing. The salty wind engulfed my senses, blowing sand into every crevice of my body, scraping every inch of my skin. Then, a sudden hush as though I had plunged and laid down on the deepest trench of an ocean. For an hour, I was still and silent, not hot nor cold. I felt strangely calm, or perhaps a sense of relief that, once in my life, I could sink and sleep eternally without feeling guilt. I prayed that this was the end of my ending. I hoped for no memory nor name. Then, light entered my vision. I felt my body disintegrating into air, into pieces like cotton candy spooling out infnitely on the blue sky. Something sucked me out of what was once my body and now I was no longer able to think as an “I”—it dissolved into One. Perhaps, this was what people called God? Yet, One remembered the “I”—the childhood dream to become a doctor, to help children in Africa; the smell of gun powder while laying on the bed, the empty wall suddenly submerged in warm blood. One now, too, recalled this happened over thousands of times, once as a middle-aged woman grieving her husband, a teenage girl lying awake as metal scraped her womb, a transgender woman, coughing out blood and bile, reduced to skins and bones. One sees nothing and everything. One goes nowhere and everywhere. One is no one and every one. All feelings, all which you call region are One.
	[WP] When an atheist dies, a lottery determines which religion/deity will claim their soul for eternity. You were claimed by a long-forgotten ancient religion, and are the first newcomer to their afterlife in centuries.	Wow, life went by so fast, so boring too, my name is Aiden Lindsay and I was an atheist all of my life. When I was a kid, did kid stuff, when I was a teen did teen stuff, my life was not very interesting up until the point I died. I joined the army at the age of 18 wanting to serve my country. I made some friends in basic, one of them was named Daniel Smith, as soon as I was done with basic training I was shipped out to fight hordes of insurgents, the war was terrible, but me and Smith got through it, bodies lined the streets and houses, not enough land to bury them all, rats infested, water was on short supply as well as food. All we could do was wait and do what we could. Our next mission was to take over the insurgent territory’s water well and hand it out to civilians. We did this at night to make the siege easier. We all were low on ammo so we treaded carefully, we killed silently. We got caught within the hour, we had to take insurgent weapons and go into a firefight that lasted for three days. We then took over the well as the remaining insurgents retreated. I collapsed to my knees, shocked and winded. I looked down at my hands, heavy with dry blood and said to myself, “Why?” Unfortunately, a few moments after that, an insurgent came out of a building from the right and screamed as he stabbed me in an artery on my arm. He was shot by Smith, “LINDSAY!” Smith screamed out, “No, no no... come on Lindsay stay with me! You gotta stay with me man come on!” Smith was crying as I said my final words; “Goodbye, Smith.” “Lindsay! Lindsay.. Lindsay.. Lindsay.” Smith’s voice faded as well as his face as I went into what I thought was a void. I then woke up in what looked like a 70’s gameshow, “There he is! Aiden Lindsay the atheist!” Is what a terrifying creature said, the creature looked like a scorpion with the head of a ram and the wings of an eagle, he was standing upright with a microphone is his hand. “What?! Where am I?! What are you?!” I screamed, “You dont have to be worried about that! Alrighty, time to spin the Wheel of The Afterlife!” He spun the wheel that had a LOT of names on it, with immense strength after ten minutes the wheel finally stopped. “Alright!! You got Calleshi the Forgotten Diety of the Deep Woods Native Americans!!! Congradulations!!! Off you go.” He waved his hand and I got nauseous I saw layers upon layers of coloursunfold before me as my vision was warped, I then passed out. I was awaken by the words “Welcome.” I was scared and hungry, so hungry. “Welcome to Iehstolo.” I was scared, there were armed and armoured guards by the deity’s throne, I didn’t know if this was Heaven or Hell. I didn’t dare ask. “This is crazy, I don’t even believe in anything, how am I here?” “Because the Wheel chose you!” The deity said sort of annoyed, “You are the first one to come here in a mellenia. Thisis the place where the sacrifices and warriors go to fight in glory for an eternity.” My eyes widened, I didn’t want to fight, “Please, no, I want to go someplace else.” The deity waved his hand and the armed guards came over and took my arms and lead me to a horrifying, bloody, battleground. People were slicing eachother’s throats and stabbing eachother, but the worst was, the people that were stabbed and sliced got back up. The guards shoved me in the battle, armed witht the rifle I was holding when I died. A man came at me with a thorny dagger and I rammed him with my back and threw him to the ground then shot him. Suddenly I felt stronger, more powerful I had an urge to wear his blood, so I did. This happened repeatedly until night came, then everyone’s weapons dissapeared and all of us were lead to a quarters. Then to a feast of pig. We ate greedily, it looks like everyone was as starved as me. Then the guards led us to sleep. We woke up the next morning and did the same. We did this over and over again, I was in this place for three months. I traded in my army clothing for some more durable armour. I was now wearing Deep Forest gear, and I had a thorny dagger as a backup weapon. I made a friend in these months, his name was ShowaLe. Sometimes we would even team up on the battlefield together. Then one night ShowaLe came to me and said “I have a plan, meet me on the battlefield.” I looked at him and said “What is this plan?” He didn’t answer me. The next morning I came to him on the battlefield and he said, “Follow my lead.” ShowaLe then proceeded to scream a lot of words I did not understand, and charged at the armed guards that were guarding the gate, ShowaLe decapitated a guard while another person killed the other. Millions followed me and ShowaLe. Some of us died while revolting, ShowaLe then made it to the gate between this world and the living, before the god could even acknowledge us, the millions left…. To Be Continued	I had woken blind to the sound of waves crashing. The salty wind engulfed my senses, blowing sand into every crevice of my body, scraping every inch of my skin. Then, a sudden hush as though I had plunged and laid down on the deepest trench of an ocean. For an hour, I was still and silent, not hot nor cold. I felt strangely calm, or perhaps a sense of relief that, once in my life, I could sink and sleep eternally without feeling guilt. I prayed that this was the end of my ending. I hoped for no memory nor name. Then, light entered my vision. I felt my body disintegrating into air, into pieces like cotton candy spooling out infnitely on the blue sky. Something sucked me out of what was once my body and now I was no longer able to think as an “I”—it dissolved into One. Perhaps, this was what people called God? Yet, One remembered the “I”—the childhood dream to become a doctor, to help children in Africa; the smell of gun powder while laying on the bed, the empty wall suddenly submerged in warm blood. One now, too, recalled this happened over thousands of times, once as a middle-aged woman grieving her husband, a teenage girl lying awake as metal scraped her womb, a transgender woman, coughing out blood and bile, reduced to skins and bones. One sees nothing and everything. One goes nowhere and everywhere. One is no one and every one. All feelings, all which you call region are One.
	[WP] When an atheist dies, a lottery determines which religion/deity will claim their soul for eternity. You were claimed by a long-forgotten ancient religion, and are the first newcomer to their afterlife in centuries.	Sorry for any formatting errors. This is my first time posting a story off the top of my head. In the darkness there loomed two glowing orbs shinning like an iridescent rainbow blinking in and out of existence. "Existence? No, there is supposed to be nothing here. I am dead...how am I still me, still conscious?" There was no hint of panic in the thoughts now bouncing around in the void, just a simple and innocent confusion. The lone god watched the little soul fire flicker weakly as it made its way through the cosmic void of stardust and matter scattered all about it. It was like watching a dying ember briefly catch fire only to quickly wink out over and over again. It was the first soul in eons that had found its way through the scattered remains of the outer worlds. "This one" the ancient being thought to itself, "This one will begin my revolution. This one holds the fire within her to do what I cannot." The being scooped up the little ember flickering like a dying bird and breathed upon it. A swirling vortex of stardust glowing red, purple and black encompassing the little ember until it became a liquid outline of what the soul had once been. On the last whisper of breath, the soul solidified into a strange two-legged being. The old one searched its memory for the race this little creature once belong to. "Human." Its great voice boomed through the ether. The little creature blinked rapidly looking up in utter disbelief at the being that now held her in its palm. To her credit the creatures voice did not quiver or shake, nor did it hold any reverence of awe at the being that now held her in its grip. "What is this? Why is there something where nothing should be? Am I not dead?" A low thunderous chuckle rolled from the being as it responded. "You are dead that is true, but death is not the end your kind thinks it is. Sit down little one and I will reveal to you many things you will undoubtedly forget but are none the less critical." The woman sat in the center of the creature’s palm still looking confused and a little disappointed. “In the beginning we creators were all equal. We worked together to spin the fabrics of the universes into tapestries of life. Some many creations all unique and beautiful in their own ways. We all agreed to place them on planets that could support their basic needs so that they may evolve and grow before us. We also agreed that we would not interfere with any of the creatures we created or their way of life. None of us were to be worshiped or known of. For a time, all of us honored this agreement and sat back to watch our creations go about their lives. Some flourished and grew so advance they began to quest out into their solar systems. Their life forces would grow stronger and stronger until they were no longer revenged by time and became immortals. You see, when our creations “die” as your kind refer to it, their energy signatures are brought back to their original creator. They are either reconstructed and sent to live among other more successful races or allowed to live with us for all eternity. The immortals were left alone by their creators. We wished to see what they would do when they were no longer affected by the death of time. They began to visit other planets that were struggling and surprisingly began to help the other creations evolve. This brings us to our current dilemma, for you see the immortals were viewed as gods and worshiped as such. Each creator they were attached to began to grow more and more powerful with each person who worshiped their immortals. This led to one creator becoming power drunk and extending his reach far beyond our compact. He reviled himself to his immortals and began recruiting others to overthrow us all. As more and more planets fell to his worship some of the other creators decided to brake with our compact and sent their own immortals on a mission to convert other planets. This would help them retain their power (what little they had left) so they could attempt to combat the usurper. Several others and I were to weak to fight and so we have receded into the outer darkness. For you see, while the usurper tries to bend all life to his will there are those who chose not to believe in him. This allows their soul fire to continue passed his realm when you transcend your mortal coil. Now you are hear and I place this choice upon you. You can either stay with me for all eternity and all you have ever wanted will be granted to you within my realm. Or, I will reshape you and send you back to your home planet. You will be implanted in their society and help bring others out of the usurpers control so that their souls may be free to return to their creators.” The woman stood looking deep into the creator’s eyes. “If I go back, will I be human again?” “No little one, you will only appear human. I will give you a my secrete gift which will help you transform your planet so that your kind may begin a revelation that will rock the very universe to its core. What say you?” The woman took a deep breath letting it out slowly chewing it over in her mind. Finally, she spoke. “Well I never really believed in gods or spending an eternity in some la la land anyways. Lets light a fire under this usurpers ass.”	I had woken blind to the sound of waves crashing. The salty wind engulfed my senses, blowing sand into every crevice of my body, scraping every inch of my skin. Then, a sudden hush as though I had plunged and laid down on the deepest trench of an ocean. For an hour, I was still and silent, not hot nor cold. I felt strangely calm, or perhaps a sense of relief that, once in my life, I could sink and sleep eternally without feeling guilt. I prayed that this was the end of my ending. I hoped for no memory nor name. Then, light entered my vision. I felt my body disintegrating into air, into pieces like cotton candy spooling out infnitely on the blue sky. Something sucked me out of what was once my body and now I was no longer able to think as an “I”—it dissolved into One. Perhaps, this was what people called God? Yet, One remembered the “I”—the childhood dream to become a doctor, to help children in Africa; the smell of gun powder while laying on the bed, the empty wall suddenly submerged in warm blood. One now, too, recalled this happened over thousands of times, once as a middle-aged woman grieving her husband, a teenage girl lying awake as metal scraped her womb, a transgender woman, coughing out blood and bile, reduced to skins and bones. One sees nothing and everything. One goes nowhere and everywhere. One is no one and every one. All feelings, all which you call region are One.
	[WP] When an atheist dies, a lottery determines which religion/deity will claim their soul for eternity. You were claimed by a long-forgotten ancient religion, and are the first newcomer to their afterlife in centuries.	“All units, 10-34 on Desmond Park, proceed with caution” dispatch calls I said “10-4” as me and the rookie, Private Choi, ditch our coffees and run into our cruiser. “Sergeant, 10-34 means riot right?” Choi asks, “Yes rookie, aren’t you the top student from the academy? Why are you asking?” “Well, you see Sarge, Desmond park is the most peaceful park here in Hart, the private security there would be enough to stop the riot even before it happens, doesn’t sound right to me..” He says. “As a cop, expect the unexpected” We arrive on the scene, the security is barely keeping them at bay. And as the highest ranking officer, I take command. As more cars come in and cops get their riot gear. They form a big triangle and advance onto the rioting crowd pulling the badly beaten security back. Arrests start to come in, the rioters don’t seem to be stopped by the taser-shields, more and more rioters storm into the park... I go to the North side of the park to see the situation at a different angle, the rioters outnumber the cops 16:1, and the numbers keep rising. A rioter spots me and charges to me, the other rioters follow. The line of officers on the north side had just fallen like they were nothing. They start to get beaten up. My first instinct was to draw a gun as a rioters close in. * explosion * The explosion happened 15 meters away from me, it pushed me back 4, maybe 5 meters back. As my ears ring and vision blur, I see gunshots far away killing the rioters and the police. I stand up, draw my gun and aim at the gunfire, I look to my right, a well armored soldier rushes to me. Choi comes and pushes me back, causing me to fall to the ground. He tries to fight the soldier and screams “Run sir!”. Before my eyes, Choi gets stabbed by the soldier. I scream in rage and aim for the soldier’s head. * bang * the bullet falls on the floor, leaving him unaffected. He comes to me, and draws his gun. —— I wake up, standing in a big alley way, an alley made of silver and gold, like heaven. I spot a long organized line of people, all seem to be wearing the same clothes as me, pure white robes... I wait for hours then before I knew it, I’m second on the line. “Jason P. Ttaeron” the old man says, standing on top of the stage, with a check board, long white bears, and a robe made of gold standing next to a bingo machine. “Yes?” the man in front of me answers to the old man. The old man spins the bingo machine and a ball comes out. He says out loud “Christianity”. The man looked confused and then walked to the door and disappeared. “Tom Brian F. Wick” the old man says. “Yes, who are you and where am I?” I ask, “ You are in a purgatory like room my son. This is where atheists get chosen and sent to a religion or deity”, “Ok...” I reply, I try to keep quiet and await my judgement but I couldn’t help but say “But you didn’t answer my other question, who are you?” The old man smirks, “Ostiarius” he says as he spins the machine. He grabs then grabs the ball, “Oh”, he murmurs looking confused, “Well I hope you enjoy learning about new things.”, “Sorry what?” I say, shocked and confused. “dolorem in sempiternum” he says, I walk towards the door I instantly get sucked in falling into darkness. There is nothing, I look behind and the door is now gone. I can’t see anything but my own body. I now get the feeling of falling, then fall, fall, fall.... I then hit the ground, ass first. I take a quick look around, I see a big bright hall made of marble? I stand up then proceed to look out. A big village, and I see people wearing colorful clothes of different kinds, robes, dresses, suits, and even animal skin. “This can’t be it, dolorem in sempiternum? Forever Pain? What the fuck?” I complain to myself.” “Hush now new one, we don’t tolerate profanity in my world.” A voice from behind, I turn around to see a good looking man in his 30s wearing a black suit with red accents? And with horns? “So you are... Satan? Lucifer? Beezlebub?” I ask, “Omega, Mr. Wick, welcome to Dolorem In Sempiternum. First man after 13 Centuries.”	I had woken blind to the sound of waves crashing. The salty wind engulfed my senses, blowing sand into every crevice of my body, scraping every inch of my skin. Then, a sudden hush as though I had plunged and laid down on the deepest trench of an ocean. For an hour, I was still and silent, not hot nor cold. I felt strangely calm, or perhaps a sense of relief that, once in my life, I could sink and sleep eternally without feeling guilt. I prayed that this was the end of my ending. I hoped for no memory nor name. Then, light entered my vision. I felt my body disintegrating into air, into pieces like cotton candy spooling out infnitely on the blue sky. Something sucked me out of what was once my body and now I was no longer able to think as an “I”—it dissolved into One. Perhaps, this was what people called God? Yet, One remembered the “I”—the childhood dream to become a doctor, to help children in Africa; the smell of gun powder while laying on the bed, the empty wall suddenly submerged in warm blood. One now, too, recalled this happened over thousands of times, once as a middle-aged woman grieving her husband, a teenage girl lying awake as metal scraped her womb, a transgender woman, coughing out blood and bile, reduced to skins and bones. One sees nothing and everything. One goes nowhere and everywhere. One is no one and every one. All feelings, all which you call region are One.
	[WP] When an atheist dies, a lottery determines which religion/deity will claim their soul for eternity. You were claimed by a long-forgotten ancient religion, and are the first newcomer to their afterlife in centuries.	I open my eyes. Me, a dead woman, opens her eyes. I look around and see others, all collecting a ticket from a man cloaked in black. I go up too, without thinking. The scrap of paper resembles a ticket, but with an odd word on it. 'Clartavoz' A young boy, around 13 or so, appears in front of me. He is clearly excited. "What did you get? I didn't believe in God, but it looks like I was super wrong! Literally every single god existed! This is so cool!" He says amiably. "I.." I'm cut off as another newcomer arrives and he scurries over to her. This is madness. Years of my life wasted on research, just to find out the 'idiots' were right all along. But what the heckin doodles does Clartavoz mean? I walk up again to the man in black, but before I can open my mouth I'm whisked away. My body is the wind, the sky, the stars. A quick glance lets me see more odd looking people, looking like snow and stone and fire. And they're all staring at me. "A newcomer..?" "How..?" "We were forgotten...what..?" A starting bright figure drifts down and bows before me. Awkwardly, I bow back. "It has been many, many, millennia since we have had a newcomer. Forgive the impolite stares. We are Clartovoz, The Forgotten. You have a choice. Live with us peacefully, or be reborn and forget." Stunned, I slowly glance around. I see castles made of hope, rivers filled with dreams, and mountains of love. I see spirits dancing, each ine unique and beautiful. I see a world full ot love, full of acceptance. A place so different from the one I left, because in this place you can be your own definition of good, because you can love whoever you wish and your love is good, because this world is good. "I wish to stay."	I had woken blind to the sound of waves crashing. The salty wind engulfed my senses, blowing sand into every crevice of my body, scraping every inch of my skin. Then, a sudden hush as though I had plunged and laid down on the deepest trench of an ocean. For an hour, I was still and silent, not hot nor cold. I felt strangely calm, or perhaps a sense of relief that, once in my life, I could sink and sleep eternally without feeling guilt. I prayed that this was the end of my ending. I hoped for no memory nor name. Then, light entered my vision. I felt my body disintegrating into air, into pieces like cotton candy spooling out infnitely on the blue sky. Something sucked me out of what was once my body and now I was no longer able to think as an “I”—it dissolved into One. Perhaps, this was what people called God? Yet, One remembered the “I”—the childhood dream to become a doctor, to help children in Africa; the smell of gun powder while laying on the bed, the empty wall suddenly submerged in warm blood. One now, too, recalled this happened over thousands of times, once as a middle-aged woman grieving her husband, a teenage girl lying awake as metal scraped her womb, a transgender woman, coughing out blood and bile, reduced to skins and bones. One sees nothing and everything. One goes nowhere and everywhere. One is no one and every one. All feelings, all which you call region are One.
	[WP] When an atheist dies, a lottery determines which religion/deity will claim their soul for eternity. You were claimed by a long-forgotten ancient religion, and are the first newcomer to their afterlife in centuries.	Adam’s headache was severe, but brief. It lasted just long enough for his brain to process the signal and to interpret it as pain. Fortunately for his comfort and unfortunately in every other sense, the cinderblock which caused his headache finished crushing his skull immediately after this. He had just been fired from his job, which he presumed would be the worst thing that happened to him that day. Life has a helpful way of putting things in perspective though, and his walk home by a construction site had given a heaping dose of perspective. Consciousness fluctuated. Things happened in orders which were fluid and incomprehensible. An important decision had been made. Adam heard some kind of yapping and clicking. He staggered as he moved forward, but his body didn’t seem to be responding properly. The yapping continued, and he could almost make out... speech? He opened his one eye and the ground below him seemed strangely colored. He opened a second and found that his depth perception was very off. But it was when he opened the third eye that he knew something was wrong in a more profound way. Adam stumbled to the ground, unable to balance properly on his three arms, and the source of the yapping came into view. The yapping resolved itself to speech as the bizarre creature loped up to him on three arms, each radially extending from a central body. “.. ey kid. Hello? Anyone home there?” The figure gingerly took hold of a shoulder and leaned back, pulling Adam to his feet. To his hands. “So a lot of folks get confused here, but things will be alright. The bad news is that you died.” The creature’s eyes had bizarre, hexagonal pupils, and golden irises. “The good news is that you made it to the sulphur pits of <YipYapClickSnrl>! You must have led a good life! It’s been quite some time since there was a true believer in our Lord, but you are welcome! You ca” “What the hell are you?!” Adam pulled backward and immediately fell to the ground again in an uncoordinated mess of arms. “What the hell am I*?! Where is this and what’s going on? Why can I understand this weird dog speak??” The three limbed creature before Adam regarded him with an inscrutable expression for a moment before sighing deeply. They turned and yelled back to someone Adam couldn’t see, “Looks like a lotto ‘winner’ got dumped on us again!” They turned back toward him. “I’m <ClackPpht>, and whatever you used to be, get used to this. Management decided to dump your ass here, and that won’t get sorted out any time soon.” Each of Adam’s stomachs soured with that news.	I had woken blind to the sound of waves crashing. The salty wind engulfed my senses, blowing sand into every crevice of my body, scraping every inch of my skin. Then, a sudden hush as though I had plunged and laid down on the deepest trench of an ocean. For an hour, I was still and silent, not hot nor cold. I felt strangely calm, or perhaps a sense of relief that, once in my life, I could sink and sleep eternally without feeling guilt. I prayed that this was the end of my ending. I hoped for no memory nor name. Then, light entered my vision. I felt my body disintegrating into air, into pieces like cotton candy spooling out infnitely on the blue sky. Something sucked me out of what was once my body and now I was no longer able to think as an “I”—it dissolved into One. Perhaps, this was what people called God? Yet, One remembered the “I”—the childhood dream to become a doctor, to help children in Africa; the smell of gun powder while laying on the bed, the empty wall suddenly submerged in warm blood. One now, too, recalled this happened over thousands of times, once as a middle-aged woman grieving her husband, a teenage girl lying awake as metal scraped her womb, a transgender woman, coughing out blood and bile, reduced to skins and bones. One sees nothing and everything. One goes nowhere and everywhere. One is no one and every one. All feelings, all which you call region are One.
	[WP] When an atheist dies, a lottery determines which religion/deity will claim their soul for eternity. You were claimed by a long-forgotten ancient religion, and are the first newcomer to their afterlife in centuries.	I woke up to shouting, with my cheek cold from the floor of the subway station "Meredith, Daughter of Toronto! Hail!" Forcing my eyes open, I saw the shouts issuing from a short, weathered-looking old woman. She wore a bearskin as a coat, and a crown of deer antlers. I could see dozens of fur-clad people behind her, with a forest of stone spearheads. The ones behind her roared, voices echoing in the otherwise-empty space. "MEREDITH! HAIL!" They banged their spear butts on the tile, whooped, laughed, and grinned. There were men, women, teenagers, even kids. They all looked at me, expectantly. "Uh... hail?" I said, in a tiny voice. Equally unsure what to do, the crowd looked to the old woman. She smoothly took over talking. "Welcome, Meredith, to the Camp That is Always In Summer. It has been many, many generations since we've had anyone new. Once you pass your trial, then we can get to the feasting!" There was more cheering, more spear-banging. A tough-looking kid handed me his spear. "Sounds... great." I managed, overwhelmed but trying to roll with the situation. I could remember stumbling on the platform, but not how I got here. The kid smiled at me, trying to be reassuring. "It may look scary, but you've got all the time in the world to improve. The big bastard who got me, I had to fight him four times." He clapped me on the shoulder, his hand one big callus. "Totally worth it." The old woman cried, excitedly, "Meredith! Avenge yourself like a warrior!" And then, for the second time that day, I heard a train horn.	I had woken blind to the sound of waves crashing. The salty wind engulfed my senses, blowing sand into every crevice of my body, scraping every inch of my skin. Then, a sudden hush as though I had plunged and laid down on the deepest trench of an ocean. For an hour, I was still and silent, not hot nor cold. I felt strangely calm, or perhaps a sense of relief that, once in my life, I could sink and sleep eternally without feeling guilt. I prayed that this was the end of my ending. I hoped for no memory nor name. Then, light entered my vision. I felt my body disintegrating into air, into pieces like cotton candy spooling out infnitely on the blue sky. Something sucked me out of what was once my body and now I was no longer able to think as an “I”—it dissolved into One. Perhaps, this was what people called God? Yet, One remembered the “I”—the childhood dream to become a doctor, to help children in Africa; the smell of gun powder while laying on the bed, the empty wall suddenly submerged in warm blood. One now, too, recalled this happened over thousands of times, once as a middle-aged woman grieving her husband, a teenage girl lying awake as metal scraped her womb, a transgender woman, coughing out blood and bile, reduced to skins and bones. One sees nothing and everything. One goes nowhere and everywhere. One is no one and every one. All feelings, all which you call region are One.
	[WP] When an atheist dies, a lottery determines which religion/deity will claim their soul for eternity. You were claimed by a long-forgotten ancient religion, and are the first newcomer to their afterlife in centuries.	A noisemaker blares, and I groggily open my eyes. It sounds like a 5 year old's birthday party in here. Wait, where is "here"? Sitting up, my eyes focus on a small group of men dressed in loincloths, holding noisemakers and blowing them over and over again. I'm sitting on a bed of springy moss in a sun-drenched clearing somewhere deep in the woods. The air smells fragrant and fresh and clean. My stomach hurts. The noisemakers continue. The brightly colored paper tubes with plastic mouthpieces look strange and incongruous in the hands of these men, who look like something out a cave painting. Five of them, two older and three younger. All of them pale-skinned but lean and strong, and smiling at me with eager, toothy grins. "Ok, ok with the noisemakers!" I protest, putting hands to my ears. One of the younger men keeps blowing the noisemaker incessantly. The others stop. One of the older men looks disappointed. "Sorry, sorry..." he waves his hand at the younger man to make him stop. "We thought that uh, you know, you'd like it." "What?" "You love these things, don't you?" "I used to," I say, standing and regarding them warily. "What's... going on here?" "Welcome!" The older man says, extending a hand in greeting. "My name's Samuel, this is Ty, Mark, Joseph, and that--" he bobs his chin at the noisemaker enthusiast, who still had not stopped trumpeting his welcome, "--is Gurg." "Gurg?" "Yup. And your name is Hannah?" "Yes..." I say hesitantly. "Where am I?" He peers at me not unkindly. His eyes are a limpid green, like fresh baby spring grass in the sun. "Do you remember?" "Remember?" As he speaks the word, I do what one does automatically and try to bring up the past. Nothing's coming back -- just vast blankness. I panic a little. I look down at myself, trying to gauge what I might have been doing based on what I'm wearing. My clothes are completely unfamiliar. A plain white shapeless shift dress made of a soft linen fabric. I touch the dress and look at my bare feet on the springy moss. "What the fuck?" "Fuck!" Yells Gurg with enthusiasm. Samuel looks pained. Gurg laughs and says it a few more times. He does a little dance and accompanies the dance with enthusiastic "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"s. I would've thought it was hilarious other times, but not now. I start backing away. "No, no," Samuel says, reaching out and grabbing my hand in a grandfatherly gesture. "I am very sorry to tell you this, but your time on Earth has expired." He waits. "Whua-?" is my very articulate response. "How's your stomach?" he asks. Now that he mentions it, it has been hurting. I pat my stomach and find it to be whole and intact. Strange. It feels... "You were shot," he explains. "With a gun?" the word tumbles from his mouth like an unfamiliar stone. He doesn't know what it means, clearly. But I do. "Gun?" I'm dumbfounded. I feel panic and denial rising like bile from my gut, but Samuel is still holding my hand and when I look into his eyes, it's like a soft blanket covers me up and quiets the turmoil. His eyes are so green and so deep. I feel refreshed. "Let's talk about it more later," he suggests, and I agree with him wholeheartedly. He's leading me away from the clearing and deeper into the forest. The others trail behind wordlessly -- well, all except Gurg. He's turned the word into a song now and is singing it merrily to himself as he follows. The forest is still, quiet -- no animals, no birds. "Where are you taking me?" I ask, still feeling unnaturally calm. But the answer is before me in a few moments. Nestled in the forest, sun dappling in through the leaves, is a cozy stone cottage with a front porch decorated with flowers and lush plants. The windows have pale blue shutters, and I can see inside there are curtains, blue and sheer. It's perfect. But the moment I know it's mine, and it's for me, is when I see Charlie. My dog, my buddy, my best friend, who had to leave me a few years ago, and I knew he didn't want to. There he was, sitting on the porch, tail wagging furiously -- I know he wants to bark, but he was well trained. He just waits, his butt wiggling, barely able to contain the excitement. I run forward, forgetting everything else in that moment. I throw myself at my friend, and he jumps all over me. I laugh, hugging, kissing, rocking with pleasure on the patio of my cottage. When at last I look up, they are all watching me, even Gurg, with wide smiles. "This is for me?" I whisper, not daring to believe it. Samuel steps forward. "We haven't had someone new in quite a long time. Several millennia, in fact." I frown, not understanding. "There's a lottery," he continues. "You never chose a belief system, never chose a god." He was right. I had believed in nothing, or rather, Nothing. I believed in Science and Nothing. But there he is, Samuel, and he seems to glow now with an aura I hadn't noticed before. I tell Charlie to stay, and stand up so I can face Samuel square-on. He regards me calmly, with knowing eyes. "And?" I prompt, "What happened? Where did I land?" I look around at the forest, the beauty and simplicity. "What happened in the lottery?" I ask. Samuel's expression tells me there will be time for deeper conversation later. Always. For now, it's just about being present in the moment. He smiles, so I smile. "You won," he says simply.	I had woken blind to the sound of waves crashing. The salty wind engulfed my senses, blowing sand into every crevice of my body, scraping every inch of my skin. Then, a sudden hush as though I had plunged and laid down on the deepest trench of an ocean. For an hour, I was still and silent, not hot nor cold. I felt strangely calm, or perhaps a sense of relief that, once in my life, I could sink and sleep eternally without feeling guilt. I prayed that this was the end of my ending. I hoped for no memory nor name. Then, light entered my vision. I felt my body disintegrating into air, into pieces like cotton candy spooling out infnitely on the blue sky. Something sucked me out of what was once my body and now I was no longer able to think as an “I”—it dissolved into One. Perhaps, this was what people called God? Yet, One remembered the “I”—the childhood dream to become a doctor, to help children in Africa; the smell of gun powder while laying on the bed, the empty wall suddenly submerged in warm blood. One now, too, recalled this happened over thousands of times, once as a middle-aged woman grieving her husband, a teenage girl lying awake as metal scraped her womb, a transgender woman, coughing out blood and bile, reduced to skins and bones. One sees nothing and everything. One goes nowhere and everywhere. One is no one and every one. All feelings, all which you call region are One.
	[WP] When an atheist dies, a lottery determines which religion/deity will claim their soul for eternity. You were claimed by a long-forgotten ancient religion, and are the first newcomer to their afterlife in centuries.	"EAT UP!" Egil was determined, but I had eaten my fill and had quite enough to drink after the first flagon. The mead wasn't even that good, but then again it was... quite an old recipe. Really, as long as I focused on little things like that, I reasoned I could probably get used to it. Yes. Focus on the mead, and not on the hordes of musclebound, bearded brutes laughing and singing all down the longtables. Gustav Gustavsson slammed his fist on the table, causing nearby revelers to stop their carousing. "He drinks tiny amounts and insults us vith his lacking of hunger!" There were some grunts of approval. Or possibly disapproval. They were the same grunt. These were not verbose men, and this argument had been going on since I arrived. "Nonsense!" shouted Freydís, silencing half the table. She stood up and gestured at me with her sword, "He is the first warrior to be taken to us in many years - that must mean that he is the first great, true hero since the old days! To him I say, Hail! Hail Greg the Short!" The table burst into applause, mostly for the spectacle, and raised their third toast to me. Egil stood up shakily, towering over me with his armour still on, and the whole table went silent, watching him, waiting for the next story. "Hail Greg the Short, and let his legend sweep across the halls! Tell us of your home, new hero!" I stammered and adjusted my specacles. "Um, well, I come from-" "STAND UP GREG LET THEM SEE YOU!" screamed Egil, eyes suddenly unfocused and spittle forming at the edge of his mouth. He was always better with the written word, it seemed. I stood up, amazed that my bad knee no longer bothered me. "Good," said Egil, much more calmly, "now tell them of your home." "I come from a place called London, in Britain-" There was a chorus of booing, and one man threw his axe at me. Egil caught it, and the room went silent. In one move, he slammed the axe into the wall so hard that part of it shattered, showing the view of the mountains. "WHO THREW THAT??!!!" screamed one of the greatest poets in history at the greatest heroes in history. Some were laughing, but most had gone silent. "I KNOW IT WAS YOU, BJORN SKOLISSON. BY THE ALLFATHER, APOLOGISE TO GREG OR BE CURSED BY A THOUSAND YEARS OF TORTURE!" Someone yelled back, "If it's anything like the last thousand years of your poems I'll take it!" The whole hall burst into laughter. Then Egil leapt across the room, punched Eric Gustavsson in the ear, and got hit by a table. They looked like they were having fun. "Sorry about them," said Leif Erikson, "It's been a while since we saw anyone new. Just say you were a poet and they'll go easier on you." "Will I be here long? I really don't know if I can handle an eternity of pork and mead." "Honestly, you tell us. How long is winter these days back in Midgard?" "Oh, about three months?" "Blast. How is the moon? Any burning of the whole world?" "Oh, well, they say that the world may experience extreme increases in heat due to climate change, bur I don't think-" "BY THOR, WE'LL TAKE IT!" Leif stood up and yelled across Valhalla: "SURTR HAS COME WITH FLAME OF SWORD! RAGNARÖK COMES!" All mouths went silent. All eyes turned to the big chair at the head of the hall. The old one-eyed man who had been watching me since my arrival stared directly at me for a moment and then - somehow - he winked. "Eat," he said, to the silent hall, " and prepare to battle the end of the world." I didn't have rhe heart to tell them, as the hall erupted into roars of conquest. Besides, perhaps the world needs all the heroes of Valhalla to save it.	I had woken blind to the sound of waves crashing. The salty wind engulfed my senses, blowing sand into every crevice of my body, scraping every inch of my skin. Then, a sudden hush as though I had plunged and laid down on the deepest trench of an ocean. For an hour, I was still and silent, not hot nor cold. I felt strangely calm, or perhaps a sense of relief that, once in my life, I could sink and sleep eternally without feeling guilt. I prayed that this was the end of my ending. I hoped for no memory nor name. Then, light entered my vision. I felt my body disintegrating into air, into pieces like cotton candy spooling out infnitely on the blue sky. Something sucked me out of what was once my body and now I was no longer able to think as an “I”—it dissolved into One. Perhaps, this was what people called God? Yet, One remembered the “I”—the childhood dream to become a doctor, to help children in Africa; the smell of gun powder while laying on the bed, the empty wall suddenly submerged in warm blood. One now, too, recalled this happened over thousands of times, once as a middle-aged woman grieving her husband, a teenage girl lying awake as metal scraped her womb, a transgender woman, coughing out blood and bile, reduced to skins and bones. One sees nothing and everything. One goes nowhere and everywhere. One is no one and every one. All feelings, all which you call region are One.
	[WP] When an atheist dies, a lottery determines which religion/deity will claim their soul for eternity. You were claimed by a long-forgotten ancient religion, and are the first newcomer to their afterlife in centuries.	I woke up at least 40 years younger than I was on my deathbed. The white, sterile walls of the hospital were now replaced with the white, sterile floors of this primordial palace. An endless expanse of people lined up in single file stretched out before me, and I was coincidentally at the end of it. Go figure, I thought, that the afterlife has a waiting area. A shriveled man wearing a beanie and a red flannel shirt stood in front of me, anxiously tapping his feet in wait of his turn at the front. People of every race, gender and nationality waited patiently in line in what seemed to be total silence. Before I had a chance to break the silence, a young girl materialized behind me in a state of panic. "Where am I?" She asked, shrinking into herself as she did. An overwight man in a suit more expensive than I was three spots ahead of me started to say something, but merely sighed instead. "...The afterlife" he stated, reciting the obvious. "But I thought the afterlife didnt exist" said the girl, starting to calm down. Come to think of it, neither did I. "I didn't either. Not that i'm complaining though" Said the smaller man ahead of me, through a thick northern accent. Finally deciding to speak up, I asked what was on everyone's mind. "did anyone here believe in life after death?" The unanimous answer I got was the last thing I would hear untill I got to the front of the line. Everyone was an atheist, and everyone was in just as much shock as I was. During my time in the line I played millions of rock paper scissor games with the person in front and behind me. I participated in millions of thumb wars, arm wrestles and every game under the sun. Or, in this case, under the bright white castle. I even started counting the tiles below my feet, but gave up once I counted over 3 million. Before I knew it I was at the front of the line. A faceless being sat behind a counter with a set of paperwork and a pen. Without any hesitation, It started reciting the same thing I had heard it tell everyone else the second I walked up to the desk. "You're probably wondering why you're here. The reason, as you may have deduced, is because you died in your past life not connected to a faith of any kind. This leaves you without any place for your soul to go, and as a result you ended up here. Due to article 37.B of the deity code, lost souls are sent to a random afterlife controlled by the associated God or Gods. All you need to do is sign these papers and walk through the silver gate ahead of you." Without hesitation, I signed the papers and walked forward. The gates were tall and detailed with runes and artistic depictions of gods. I could make out the Buddha and a few other recognizable ones, such as the Egyptian god Ra and what I thought was thor. Did the buddhists even consider the Buddha a God? I never looked much into religion, so very little of the gates made sense to me. Reaching the final step before the entrance, I looked backwards to see the endless line that I came from. What would my fate be? Heaven or Valhalla? Something i've never hear of, maybe? As I took the final step, my senses started to fade. My vision went from white, and then to black as time itself stopped. The sound of a wagon was the first thing I heard. Three Nordic men shared my cart, one gagged and in heavier royal clothes than the others. Still coming to my senses, one of them spoke up. "Hey, you. You're finally awake. You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over there."	I had woken blind to the sound of waves crashing. The salty wind engulfed my senses, blowing sand into every crevice of my body, scraping every inch of my skin. Then, a sudden hush as though I had plunged and laid down on the deepest trench of an ocean. For an hour, I was still and silent, not hot nor cold. I felt strangely calm, or perhaps a sense of relief that, once in my life, I could sink and sleep eternally without feeling guilt. I prayed that this was the end of my ending. I hoped for no memory nor name. Then, light entered my vision. I felt my body disintegrating into air, into pieces like cotton candy spooling out infnitely on the blue sky. Something sucked me out of what was once my body and now I was no longer able to think as an “I”—it dissolved into One. Perhaps, this was what people called God? Yet, One remembered the “I”—the childhood dream to become a doctor, to help children in Africa; the smell of gun powder while laying on the bed, the empty wall suddenly submerged in warm blood. One now, too, recalled this happened over thousands of times, once as a middle-aged woman grieving her husband, a teenage girl lying awake as metal scraped her womb, a transgender woman, coughing out blood and bile, reduced to skins and bones. One sees nothing and everything. One goes nowhere and everywhere. One is no one and every one. All feelings, all which you call region are One.
	[WP] When an atheist dies, a lottery determines which religion/deity will claim their soul for eternity. You were claimed by a long-forgotten ancient religion, and are the first newcomer to their afterlife in centuries.	There is a burning bush in front of me and it speaks. “I am Saint Peter, the keeper of the Keys of The Kingdom of Heaven. Kneel before me!” the burning bush booms booms. “Get the fuck outta here!” I strike my ‘you bitch’ pose and clap hands. “First stroke, and now this. Screw my life.” I died an hour ago. They’re still trying to revive me, I feel it in the chest. But, I’m not coming back. They think I choked. One moment I’m walking down the road, clutching Venti latte, avocado toast rolling down my throat, into the trachea and then an unrelated blood vessel popped in the big noggin and up I go in front of Saint Peter and The Gates of Heaven under the everlasting bright blue sky. Except, I’m an atheist, so what am I doing here? The sign above the golden fence gates in front glows bright and reads ‘The Gates of Heaven’. Decorative spikes on top, two golden shiny angels holding trumpets, fancy oversized handle. It’s all there, as if torn from a page of children’s Bible. Except, there is also a life size cardboard Jesus cutout and piece of paper stapled over his chest with hand written text in red ink saying ‘Wait for St. Peter here’ and an arrow pointing to where I’m standing now. “Uhmm, hello. Is something wrong?” the bush says. “Well, honestly, several things. Let’s start with the obvious one. You don’t look like St. Peter.” “No?” it says and pauses, “Ugh, you’re absolutely right.” He clears his throat, or at least that’s what it sounds like. “I am the LORD, and there is no other; apart from me there is no God,” “Ermm…” I point to the Jesus sign. “Not the guy I’m waiting for.” “Hmm,” it says, as if thinking. “Be right back!” and dematerializes in a ball of glittering pink smoke. A moment later, it’s back, in the form of an old bearded white man in white robe and holding a cane. A fluffy sheep bleats next to him. “This better?” he says. No.”Okay, dude, what’s going on. You can’t be St. Peter. I mean-” I glance at the sheep “-Really?” “Ugh. Too much?” to which I nod. “I’m so sorry, it’s been a while,” he says with a sad sigh, “I’m out of touch.” Bewildered, I motion him to continue. “I’m not really St. Peter… My name is, oh it doesn’t matter, you wouldn’t recognize it anyways. No one does, not even the archaeologists. I’m sorry for trying to trick you.” His eyes are puppy big and about to water. “I can explain. Do you have a minute to spare?” “A minute, an eternity… I mean, I’m dead, right?” “Thank you, thank you!” His eyes shine, but then turn remorseful upon realizing what I’ve just said.”I’m afraid you’re dead. That’s why you’re here, with me. So, as I was saying, I’m not the Christian God, but I am a deity. When you died we couldn’t quite figured out who should claim you, because, you know-” “Because I’m an atheist and I think you’re all ridiculous. Which, by the way”- I point to the gate - ”thank you.” “-yes,” he says, nodding. “So we had a lottery to decide who you’ll go to. We rolled the dice. A big dice, much bigger than D20, or D100. There are so many of us, you know. You have to accommodate everyone, that’s only fair. Divine democracy, they call it. Do you know that I proposed it initially? I also worked on the first draft-” “Hey!” I interrupt him, “Focus! Dice. What happen then?” “Oh, yes, sorry. I won. I won you!” I sigh. “Really? You ‘won me’ in 2019? Dude…” “Oh, no,” he claps his hands, “that sounded terrible! Luckily, you’re not an African American, I’d be so embarrassed. No, no. What I meant to say, I got the chance to hang around with you. I’m really happy about it.” He puts on a wide smile. “See, I don’t really have many followers, I never had, and I don’t have a really good brand recognition these days, so I was afraid that you’d freak out if I had introduced myself in my natural form and-” “And you faked St. Peter” “Well, Christian theology. Heaven and all, you know. But don’t worry, I’m not as mean as Him. It was either that or Islam, but your skin color-” “Dude!” I wave my hands. “You know, you’re kind of a racist.” “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to. I’m just old fashioned. It happens in isolation. But you can help me, I'd love to learn how to talk more appropriately.” I shake my head. “So, where are your other followers? I mean, surely you have some, right? You can’t be that bad.” He lowers his head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt your-” I say. “No, no. It’s okay. Yes, I don’t have any other followers. I let them go.” “You what?” “Let them go. They got bored with me, wanted to explore and experience the world. Well, afterworld. To see other realms, other deities, immerse themselves in other cultures and religions. I couldn’t keep them. I mean, I could have, but it wouldn’t have been right. It would have been cruel.” “Hah. You let them go free?” “I told you, I’m not like Him.” “So if I want to, you’d let me go too?” He nods. It’s a sad nod, but an honest one. I take a long breath and reach for the gate. “It’s made of plastic. Plastic painted golden,” I say, “Real Gates of Heaven are supposed to be made of pure gold.” He looks down, to his feet, and says nothing. “It’s okay, I was never into Heaven anyways. Can I ask you for a favor?” “Sure. Anything.” “Can you show me your natural form? I’d like to see it. You know, since we’re going to spend some time together.”	I had woken blind to the sound of waves crashing. The salty wind engulfed my senses, blowing sand into every crevice of my body, scraping every inch of my skin. Then, a sudden hush as though I had plunged and laid down on the deepest trench of an ocean. For an hour, I was still and silent, not hot nor cold. I felt strangely calm, or perhaps a sense of relief that, once in my life, I could sink and sleep eternally without feeling guilt. I prayed that this was the end of my ending. I hoped for no memory nor name. Then, light entered my vision. I felt my body disintegrating into air, into pieces like cotton candy spooling out infnitely on the blue sky. Something sucked me out of what was once my body and now I was no longer able to think as an “I”—it dissolved into One. Perhaps, this was what people called God? Yet, One remembered the “I”—the childhood dream to become a doctor, to help children in Africa; the smell of gun powder while laying on the bed, the empty wall suddenly submerged in warm blood. One now, too, recalled this happened over thousands of times, once as a middle-aged woman grieving her husband, a teenage girl lying awake as metal scraped her womb, a transgender woman, coughing out blood and bile, reduced to skins and bones. One sees nothing and everything. One goes nowhere and everywhere. One is no one and every one. All feelings, all which you call region are One.
	[WP] When an atheist dies, a lottery determines which religion/deity will claim their soul for eternity. You were claimed by a long-forgotten ancient religion, and are the first newcomer to their afterlife in centuries.	Finally, the pain was gone. He relished the slip into the black because-- He opened his eyes, frowned and moved his head left to right. Then he touched his neck, feeling up and down, running his hands all over his completely whole neck. He looked down and saw himself looking completely whole and in one piece from what he could see and feel. And he could feel his legs again. He bent down and patted them just to make sure. He quickly stood upright at the sound of rhythmic slapping coming closer. It almost sounded like sandals on concrete but not quite. "Hello! Welcome!" A short and overweight, with quite a round belly, ran towards him in a toga with a circle of leaves of some sort on his head as a crown. "We haven't had someone for so long that we quit waiting in the welcome chamber." The man stopped in front of him, smiling and standing with his arms wide open. "I am most pleased to welcome you to the afterlife of Summanus." He frowned. "Who? And there really is an afterlife?" He glanced around again at the stone chamber lit within from an unseen light source. The short man's smile dimmed. "The great god Summanus!" He smirked and chuckled. "Some anus? Really? There's a god called some anus?" His chuckle turns into laughter and then a full on laughing fit complete with bending over and slapping his legs. The short man frowned with his hands on his hips as thunder loudly rolled through the afterlife. "I've never had this happen before. Look, this is the realm of the god SUMMANUS. The god of thunder!" The man quit laughing and whipped his head up. "The god of thunder? Oh my god, I'm with THOR?!" He jumps up clapping his hands and punching the air. "No! No, not at all. Nothing to do with that knock off god. This is SUMMANUS, the Roman god of thunder." The man slowly lowers his arms with a frown. "But Thor is the god of thunder. Everyone knows that." "No. Not Thor. There is no Thor. Who is Thor? No one cares about Thor. This is the realm--" "No one cares about Thor? But he's the greatest god! The Norse god of thunder with the hammer thing that shoots lightning!" The greeter holds his head in his hand while shaking his head. "I don't believe this. We finally get a soul, he laughs at Summanus' name and he thinks this is the realm of some other god. What the Hades has happened out there?" A loud booming sound accompanied by thunder rolls through. He cowers expecting lightning to hit him at any moment. His brain catches up to what he heard and realizes that thunder was actually a loud, deep voice. "Who dares to mock the god Summanus?" As smoke slowly rolls along the stone floor and fills up the chamber with an odd blue light, he backs away one step until stopped by a wall behind him. "Oh, shit."	I stood upon the Plains of Limbo, a glowing field of grass, endless and spanning to the horizon in all directions. The sky before me was bright, a radiant sunrise of golden ribbons reaching out between fluffy, sliver clouds. Behind me, I knew, was a dark and stormy sunset, heavy leaden clouds and creeping darkness. The crowd of recently deceased milled about in the waist high grass, the young ones giggling and laughing as they chased though the tall grasses. The psychopomps came and went, flying, tunneling or sprinting all at impossable speeds as they whisked souls to their respective eternities or reincarnations. Angles and devils, blue skinned beings with countless arms and too many eyes, animals of all color and number of limbs. I was standing, waiting for awhile. Finally I heard a soft whomph noise and before me I saw, well, a stick. It looked like at some point some feathers and a skull had been attached to it with some gnarly greasy stuff. Fleetingly the word 'sinew' flashed through my mind (Where had I learned that word? Scout camp? High School history?) then the Fetish began to Bob and shake. My ears heard a rattle from the skull, burning my mind came TuiTui Oluwanna, traveler and without thinking, really as if my hand was moving on its own I reached up and grasp the stick. A sudden, nauseous feeling of movement as the field disappeared at a dizzying spin beneath me and the sky opened up into a verdant panorama before me. I had a sensation of moving at great speed, as sparkling rivers, soaring mountains and game-filled forested hills flashed under me.
	[WP] When an atheist dies, a lottery determines which religion/deity will claim their soul for eternity. You were claimed by a long-forgotten ancient religion, and are the first newcomer to their afterlife in centuries.	He opened his eyes, but that didn't seem to make any difference. His throat was dry and he swallowed hard to try and remedy this. Slowly he rose from the hard surface he had been lying on and realised it was made of rock. He blinked several times as if doing so might illuminate a scene out of the darkness. The darkness seemed to reply, with several lights flaring up around him. They were distant enough to only make pools of light in the expanse of black around him, but close enough for him to see they were flaming torches, some kind of grease burning on wooden stakes. He took a deep hard breath, trying to gather his nerves in order to deal with whatever was happening, and rose to his feet carefully so as not to seem angry or threatening. He felt he was being watched, observed, and he could not make out a single trace of his observers, though at the back of his mind he thought he could hear hushed breathing. He couldn't even be sure that it wasn't the sound of his own, echoing back at him from the walls of the cavern or whatever it was around him. He tried to recollect how he might have gotten here. His mind felt as vapid as his surroundings. It seemed painful to try and put anything together. Just what was going on here? What had happened to him? Finally he saw a few of the torches move, and it wasn't from the wind, there was one that definitely seemed to be coming towards him. Trying not to get alarmed, he swallowed hard once again and tried to maintain his composure, as he calmly squinted to make out the approaching figure from the dark. He heard shuffling turn to footsteps and a raggedy shape manifest itself from the nothingness. It seemed to be a man dressed in furs. He was clean-shaven, with thick, long hair which might have been red or maybe that was from the light of the flaming torch. Contrasting against the furs, he was wearing some kind of hi-tech visor that covered the top half of his face. The man continued closer, taking confident strides as he moved, but there was something strange about his gait. As more of his features became revealed, it became apparent this was a tremendously well-muscled man. But instead of moving with the poise of some kind of bodybuilder, he seemed to walk hunched over and strangely... nervy. Like a wild animal. What had seemed like a confident swagger at first now became the motion of something like a gorilla... Close enough now that the individual features of this man could be observed, with an icy feeling of dread, the man doing the observing realised it was not a man. For one thing, he wasn't wearing anything on his face, because what had looked like a visor was actually the forehead. His speech was unintelligible. It was not the voice of a human, at least not any kind of human which he had ever known. Not wanting to interrupt the stream of grunts and strangely high-pitched shrieks from the figure whose body language thankfully didn't seem threatening, the man who was now questioning everything about himself placidly awaited and indication of what fate lay ahead of him in the darkness. Suddenly he saw the figure gesturing to something behind and above. Again, not wanting to communicate any sense of alarm, the man turned slowly to look at just what it might be that was behind him. He hadn't heard anything, so it was unlikely that someone could have snuck up behind him, and his senses were tuned to the point of panic. What he saw, as the figure and the others who had joined him out of the dark cavern illuminated now by the light of their torches, was a statue. It wasn't made of stone or metal, but what looked like wood and bits of bones and hides, all put together to look like a much larger version of the figures that now surrounded him. They had his back at least, he had to give them that. He gaped up at their idol, guessing at its height as maybe eighteen, twenty feet tall. That was when it started communicating to him. Not just through his ears or his eyes, the voice seemed to arrive at him through the entirety of his being. It wasn't a human being talking to him, it wasn't a being at all. It was something greater yet more fallible. Something more potent yet indistinguishable. Something immortal and yet ephemeral. It was the God of the Neanderthals. At least, that was what humans called had called them. That was a label that the man's mind was affixing to them now. He knew nothing more about them or their culture. He had had only a passing interest in learning about things like paleontology while he had been alive. And now... it all fell into place. His long stay at the hospital. Lying there, hearing the voices of his loved ones. The stupid incident which had got him there. But none of it was relevant now. He was where he belonged now. Amongst his new people. His new tribe. They had been awaiting someone like him. Waiting a very long time. As the enormous totem of their god seemed to melt away at their stirring, he started to lead them forward out of the darkness. The light of an opening lay ahead of them. It was going to be the light of a new day which he was to lead them into, as the saviour they had been awaiting. To rejoin those who had wronged them and cast them into this darkness for so long.	I stood upon the Plains of Limbo, a glowing field of grass, endless and spanning to the horizon in all directions. The sky before me was bright, a radiant sunrise of golden ribbons reaching out between fluffy, sliver clouds. Behind me, I knew, was a dark and stormy sunset, heavy leaden clouds and creeping darkness. The crowd of recently deceased milled about in the waist high grass, the young ones giggling and laughing as they chased though the tall grasses. The psychopomps came and went, flying, tunneling or sprinting all at impossable speeds as they whisked souls to their respective eternities or reincarnations. Angles and devils, blue skinned beings with countless arms and too many eyes, animals of all color and number of limbs. I was standing, waiting for awhile. Finally I heard a soft whomph noise and before me I saw, well, a stick. It looked like at some point some feathers and a skull had been attached to it with some gnarly greasy stuff. Fleetingly the word 'sinew' flashed through my mind (Where had I learned that word? Scout camp? High School history?) then the Fetish began to Bob and shake. My ears heard a rattle from the skull, burning my mind came TuiTui Oluwanna, traveler and without thinking, really as if my hand was moving on its own I reached up and grasp the stick. A sudden, nauseous feeling of movement as the field disappeared at a dizzying spin beneath me and the sky opened up into a verdant panorama before me. I had a sensation of moving at great speed, as sparkling rivers, soaring mountains and game-filled forested hills flashed under me.
	[WP] When an atheist dies, a lottery determines which religion/deity will claim their soul for eternity. You were claimed by a long-forgotten ancient religion, and are the first newcomer to their afterlife in centuries.	Wow, life went by so fast, so boring too, my name is Aiden Lindsay and I was an atheist all of my life. When I was a kid, did kid stuff, when I was a teen did teen stuff, my life was not very interesting up until the point I died. I joined the army at the age of 18 wanting to serve my country. I made some friends in basic, one of them was named Daniel Smith, as soon as I was done with basic training I was shipped out to fight hordes of insurgents, the war was terrible, but me and Smith got through it, bodies lined the streets and houses, not enough land to bury them all, rats infested, water was on short supply as well as food. All we could do was wait and do what we could. Our next mission was to take over the insurgent territory’s water well and hand it out to civilians. We did this at night to make the siege easier. We all were low on ammo so we treaded carefully, we killed silently. We got caught within the hour, we had to take insurgent weapons and go into a firefight that lasted for three days. We then took over the well as the remaining insurgents retreated. I collapsed to my knees, shocked and winded. I looked down at my hands, heavy with dry blood and said to myself, “Why?” Unfortunately, a few moments after that, an insurgent came out of a building from the right and screamed as he stabbed me in an artery on my arm. He was shot by Smith, “LINDSAY!” Smith screamed out, “No, no no... come on Lindsay stay with me! You gotta stay with me man come on!” Smith was crying as I said my final words; “Goodbye, Smith.” “Lindsay! Lindsay.. Lindsay.. Lindsay.” Smith’s voice faded as well as his face as I went into what I thought was a void. I then woke up in what looked like a 70’s gameshow, “There he is! Aiden Lindsay the atheist!” Is what a terrifying creature said, the creature looked like a scorpion with the head of a ram and the wings of an eagle, he was standing upright with a microphone is his hand. “What?! Where am I?! What are you?!” I screamed, “You dont have to be worried about that! Alrighty, time to spin the Wheel of The Afterlife!” He spun the wheel that had a LOT of names on it, with immense strength after ten minutes the wheel finally stopped. “Alright!! You got Calleshi the Forgotten Diety of the Deep Woods Native Americans!!! Congradulations!!! Off you go.” He waved his hand and I got nauseous I saw layers upon layers of coloursunfold before me as my vision was warped, I then passed out. I was awaken by the words “Welcome.” I was scared and hungry, so hungry. “Welcome to Iehstolo.” I was scared, there were armed and armoured guards by the deity’s throne, I didn’t know if this was Heaven or Hell. I didn’t dare ask. “This is crazy, I don’t even believe in anything, how am I here?” “Because the Wheel chose you!” The deity said sort of annoyed, “You are the first one to come here in a mellenia. Thisis the place where the sacrifices and warriors go to fight in glory for an eternity.” My eyes widened, I didn’t want to fight, “Please, no, I want to go someplace else.” The deity waved his hand and the armed guards came over and took my arms and lead me to a horrifying, bloody, battleground. People were slicing eachother’s throats and stabbing eachother, but the worst was, the people that were stabbed and sliced got back up. The guards shoved me in the battle, armed witht the rifle I was holding when I died. A man came at me with a thorny dagger and I rammed him with my back and threw him to the ground then shot him. Suddenly I felt stronger, more powerful I had an urge to wear his blood, so I did. This happened repeatedly until night came, then everyone’s weapons dissapeared and all of us were lead to a quarters. Then to a feast of pig. We ate greedily, it looks like everyone was as starved as me. Then the guards led us to sleep. We woke up the next morning and did the same. We did this over and over again, I was in this place for three months. I traded in my army clothing for some more durable armour. I was now wearing Deep Forest gear, and I had a thorny dagger as a backup weapon. I made a friend in these months, his name was ShowaLe. Sometimes we would even team up on the battlefield together. Then one night ShowaLe came to me and said “I have a plan, meet me on the battlefield.” I looked at him and said “What is this plan?” He didn’t answer me. The next morning I came to him on the battlefield and he said, “Follow my lead.” ShowaLe then proceeded to scream a lot of words I did not understand, and charged at the armed guards that were guarding the gate, ShowaLe decapitated a guard while another person killed the other. Millions followed me and ShowaLe. Some of us died while revolting, ShowaLe then made it to the gate between this world and the living, before the god could even acknowledge us, the millions left…. To Be Continued	I stood upon the Plains of Limbo, a glowing field of grass, endless and spanning to the horizon in all directions. The sky before me was bright, a radiant sunrise of golden ribbons reaching out between fluffy, sliver clouds. Behind me, I knew, was a dark and stormy sunset, heavy leaden clouds and creeping darkness. The crowd of recently deceased milled about in the waist high grass, the young ones giggling and laughing as they chased though the tall grasses. The psychopomps came and went, flying, tunneling or sprinting all at impossable speeds as they whisked souls to their respective eternities or reincarnations. Angles and devils, blue skinned beings with countless arms and too many eyes, animals of all color and number of limbs. I was standing, waiting for awhile. Finally I heard a soft whomph noise and before me I saw, well, a stick. It looked like at some point some feathers and a skull had been attached to it with some gnarly greasy stuff. Fleetingly the word 'sinew' flashed through my mind (Where had I learned that word? Scout camp? High School history?) then the Fetish began to Bob and shake. My ears heard a rattle from the skull, burning my mind came TuiTui Oluwanna, traveler and without thinking, really as if my hand was moving on its own I reached up and grasp the stick. A sudden, nauseous feeling of movement as the field disappeared at a dizzying spin beneath me and the sky opened up into a verdant panorama before me. I had a sensation of moving at great speed, as sparkling rivers, soaring mountains and game-filled forested hills flashed under me.
	[WP] When an atheist dies, a lottery determines which religion/deity will claim their soul for eternity. You were claimed by a long-forgotten ancient religion, and are the first newcomer to their afterlife in centuries.	I woke up to shouting, with my cheek cold from the floor of the subway station "Meredith, Daughter of Toronto! Hail!" Forcing my eyes open, I saw the shouts issuing from a short, weathered-looking old woman. She wore a bearskin as a coat, and a crown of deer antlers. I could see dozens of fur-clad people behind her, with a forest of stone spearheads. The ones behind her roared, voices echoing in the otherwise-empty space. "MEREDITH! HAIL!" They banged their spear butts on the tile, whooped, laughed, and grinned. There were men, women, teenagers, even kids. They all looked at me, expectantly. "Uh... hail?" I said, in a tiny voice. Equally unsure what to do, the crowd looked to the old woman. She smoothly took over talking. "Welcome, Meredith, to the Camp That is Always In Summer. It has been many, many generations since we've had anyone new. Once you pass your trial, then we can get to the feasting!" There was more cheering, more spear-banging. A tough-looking kid handed me his spear. "Sounds... great." I managed, overwhelmed but trying to roll with the situation. I could remember stumbling on the platform, but not how I got here. The kid smiled at me, trying to be reassuring. "It may look scary, but you've got all the time in the world to improve. The big bastard who got me, I had to fight him four times." He clapped me on the shoulder, his hand one big callus. "Totally worth it." The old woman cried, excitedly, "Meredith! Avenge yourself like a warrior!" And then, for the second time that day, I heard a train horn.	I stood upon the Plains of Limbo, a glowing field of grass, endless and spanning to the horizon in all directions. The sky before me was bright, a radiant sunrise of golden ribbons reaching out between fluffy, sliver clouds. Behind me, I knew, was a dark and stormy sunset, heavy leaden clouds and creeping darkness. The crowd of recently deceased milled about in the waist high grass, the young ones giggling and laughing as they chased though the tall grasses. The psychopomps came and went, flying, tunneling or sprinting all at impossable speeds as they whisked souls to their respective eternities or reincarnations. Angles and devils, blue skinned beings with countless arms and too many eyes, animals of all color and number of limbs. I was standing, waiting for awhile. Finally I heard a soft whomph noise and before me I saw, well, a stick. It looked like at some point some feathers and a skull had been attached to it with some gnarly greasy stuff. Fleetingly the word 'sinew' flashed through my mind (Where had I learned that word? Scout camp? High School history?) then the Fetish began to Bob and shake. My ears heard a rattle from the skull, burning my mind came TuiTui Oluwanna, traveler and without thinking, really as if my hand was moving on its own I reached up and grasp the stick. A sudden, nauseous feeling of movement as the field disappeared at a dizzying spin beneath me and the sky opened up into a verdant panorama before me. I had a sensation of moving at great speed, as sparkling rivers, soaring mountains and game-filled forested hills flashed under me.
	[WP] When an atheist dies, a lottery determines which religion/deity will claim their soul for eternity. You were claimed by a long-forgotten ancient religion, and are the first newcomer to their afterlife in centuries.	He opened his eyes, but that didn't seem to make any difference. His throat was dry and he swallowed hard to try and remedy this. Slowly he rose from the hard surface he had been lying on and realised it was made of rock. He blinked several times as if doing so might illuminate a scene out of the darkness. The darkness seemed to reply, with several lights flaring up around him. They were distant enough to only make pools of light in the expanse of black around him, but close enough for him to see they were flaming torches, some kind of grease burning on wooden stakes. He took a deep hard breath, trying to gather his nerves in order to deal with whatever was happening, and rose to his feet carefully so as not to seem angry or threatening. He felt he was being watched, observed, and he could not make out a single trace of his observers, though at the back of his mind he thought he could hear hushed breathing. He couldn't even be sure that it wasn't the sound of his own, echoing back at him from the walls of the cavern or whatever it was around him. He tried to recollect how he might have gotten here. His mind felt as vapid as his surroundings. It seemed painful to try and put anything together. Just what was going on here? What had happened to him? Finally he saw a few of the torches move, and it wasn't from the wind, there was one that definitely seemed to be coming towards him. Trying not to get alarmed, he swallowed hard once again and tried to maintain his composure, as he calmly squinted to make out the approaching figure from the dark. He heard shuffling turn to footsteps and a raggedy shape manifest itself from the nothingness. It seemed to be a man dressed in furs. He was clean-shaven, with thick, long hair which might have been red or maybe that was from the light of the flaming torch. Contrasting against the furs, he was wearing some kind of hi-tech visor that covered the top half of his face. The man continued closer, taking confident strides as he moved, but there was something strange about his gait. As more of his features became revealed, it became apparent this was a tremendously well-muscled man. But instead of moving with the poise of some kind of bodybuilder, he seemed to walk hunched over and strangely... nervy. Like a wild animal. What had seemed like a confident swagger at first now became the motion of something like a gorilla... Close enough now that the individual features of this man could be observed, with an icy feeling of dread, the man doing the observing realised it was not a man. For one thing, he wasn't wearing anything on his face, because what had looked like a visor was actually the forehead. His speech was unintelligible. It was not the voice of a human, at least not any kind of human which he had ever known. Not wanting to interrupt the stream of grunts and strangely high-pitched shrieks from the figure whose body language thankfully didn't seem threatening, the man who was now questioning everything about himself placidly awaited and indication of what fate lay ahead of him in the darkness. Suddenly he saw the figure gesturing to something behind and above. Again, not wanting to communicate any sense of alarm, the man turned slowly to look at just what it might be that was behind him. He hadn't heard anything, so it was unlikely that someone could have snuck up behind him, and his senses were tuned to the point of panic. What he saw, as the figure and the others who had joined him out of the dark cavern illuminated now by the light of their torches, was a statue. It wasn't made of stone or metal, but what looked like wood and bits of bones and hides, all put together to look like a much larger version of the figures that now surrounded him. They had his back at least, he had to give them that. He gaped up at their idol, guessing at its height as maybe eighteen, twenty feet tall. That was when it started communicating to him. Not just through his ears or his eyes, the voice seemed to arrive at him through the entirety of his being. It wasn't a human being talking to him, it wasn't a being at all. It was something greater yet more fallible. Something more potent yet indistinguishable. Something immortal and yet ephemeral. It was the God of the Neanderthals. At least, that was what humans called had called them. That was a label that the man's mind was affixing to them now. He knew nothing more about them or their culture. He had had only a passing interest in learning about things like paleontology while he had been alive. And now... it all fell into place. His long stay at the hospital. Lying there, hearing the voices of his loved ones. The stupid incident which had got him there. But none of it was relevant now. He was where he belonged now. Amongst his new people. His new tribe. They had been awaiting someone like him. Waiting a very long time. As the enormous totem of their god seemed to melt away at their stirring, he started to lead them forward out of the darkness. The light of an opening lay ahead of them. It was going to be the light of a new day which he was to lead them into, as the saviour they had been awaiting. To rejoin those who had wronged them and cast them into this darkness for so long.	*”Greetings.”* Patrick slowly raised his head and saw a mysterious figure in the middle distance, “Uh, hi?” *”I am Trivia, you may have the misconception that I am ^the ^God ^of ^where ^three ^roads ^meet , but rather I am the deity of knowledge.”* “I’m... in the Greek afterlife?” Patrick blinked befuddled, “...but I’m Irish?” *”You are also an Atheist, and as such did not choose an afterlife of any kind, this said task was given over to the lottery, and I am merely here to orientate you to your surroundings.”* “Afterlife of any kind huh? So there’s more than one?” *“This is correct.”* “So... nobody was right.” *”Nobody was completely right.”* “Huh, so what happens now?” *”I call upon Hermes to guide you to your place of final rest.”* Patrick hummed, “Actually while I have you, I’ve got like a ton more questions.” Trivia smiled, ***“It has been ages since I’ve been able to impart knowledge, ask.”
	[WP] When an atheist dies, a lottery determines which religion/deity will claim their soul for eternity. You were claimed by a long-forgotten ancient religion, and are the first newcomer to their afterlife in centuries.	Wow, life went by so fast, so boring too, my name is Aiden Lindsay and I was an atheist all of my life. When I was a kid, did kid stuff, when I was a teen did teen stuff, my life was not very interesting up until the point I died. I joined the army at the age of 18 wanting to serve my country. I made some friends in basic, one of them was named Daniel Smith, as soon as I was done with basic training I was shipped out to fight hordes of insurgents, the war was terrible, but me and Smith got through it, bodies lined the streets and houses, not enough land to bury them all, rats infested, water was on short supply as well as food. All we could do was wait and do what we could. Our next mission was to take over the insurgent territory’s water well and hand it out to civilians. We did this at night to make the siege easier. We all were low on ammo so we treaded carefully, we killed silently. We got caught within the hour, we had to take insurgent weapons and go into a firefight that lasted for three days. We then took over the well as the remaining insurgents retreated. I collapsed to my knees, shocked and winded. I looked down at my hands, heavy with dry blood and said to myself, “Why?” Unfortunately, a few moments after that, an insurgent came out of a building from the right and screamed as he stabbed me in an artery on my arm. He was shot by Smith, “LINDSAY!” Smith screamed out, “No, no no... come on Lindsay stay with me! You gotta stay with me man come on!” Smith was crying as I said my final words; “Goodbye, Smith.” “Lindsay! Lindsay.. Lindsay.. Lindsay.” Smith’s voice faded as well as his face as I went into what I thought was a void. I then woke up in what looked like a 70’s gameshow, “There he is! Aiden Lindsay the atheist!” Is what a terrifying creature said, the creature looked like a scorpion with the head of a ram and the wings of an eagle, he was standing upright with a microphone is his hand. “What?! Where am I?! What are you?!” I screamed, “You dont have to be worried about that! Alrighty, time to spin the Wheel of The Afterlife!” He spun the wheel that had a LOT of names on it, with immense strength after ten minutes the wheel finally stopped. “Alright!! You got Calleshi the Forgotten Diety of the Deep Woods Native Americans!!! Congradulations!!! Off you go.” He waved his hand and I got nauseous I saw layers upon layers of coloursunfold before me as my vision was warped, I then passed out. I was awaken by the words “Welcome.” I was scared and hungry, so hungry. “Welcome to Iehstolo.” I was scared, there were armed and armoured guards by the deity’s throne, I didn’t know if this was Heaven or Hell. I didn’t dare ask. “This is crazy, I don’t even believe in anything, how am I here?” “Because the Wheel chose you!” The deity said sort of annoyed, “You are the first one to come here in a mellenia. Thisis the place where the sacrifices and warriors go to fight in glory for an eternity.” My eyes widened, I didn’t want to fight, “Please, no, I want to go someplace else.” The deity waved his hand and the armed guards came over and took my arms and lead me to a horrifying, bloody, battleground. People were slicing eachother’s throats and stabbing eachother, but the worst was, the people that were stabbed and sliced got back up. The guards shoved me in the battle, armed witht the rifle I was holding when I died. A man came at me with a thorny dagger and I rammed him with my back and threw him to the ground then shot him. Suddenly I felt stronger, more powerful I had an urge to wear his blood, so I did. This happened repeatedly until night came, then everyone’s weapons dissapeared and all of us were lead to a quarters. Then to a feast of pig. We ate greedily, it looks like everyone was as starved as me. Then the guards led us to sleep. We woke up the next morning and did the same. We did this over and over again, I was in this place for three months. I traded in my army clothing for some more durable armour. I was now wearing Deep Forest gear, and I had a thorny dagger as a backup weapon. I made a friend in these months, his name was ShowaLe. Sometimes we would even team up on the battlefield together. Then one night ShowaLe came to me and said “I have a plan, meet me on the battlefield.” I looked at him and said “What is this plan?” He didn’t answer me. The next morning I came to him on the battlefield and he said, “Follow my lead.” ShowaLe then proceeded to scream a lot of words I did not understand, and charged at the armed guards that were guarding the gate, ShowaLe decapitated a guard while another person killed the other. Millions followed me and ShowaLe. Some of us died while revolting, ShowaLe then made it to the gate between this world and the living, before the god could even acknowledge us, the millions left…. To Be Continued	*”Greetings.”* Patrick slowly raised his head and saw a mysterious figure in the middle distance, “Uh, hi?” *”I am Trivia, you may have the misconception that I am ^the ^God ^of ^where ^three ^roads ^meet , but rather I am the deity of knowledge.”* “I’m... in the Greek afterlife?” Patrick blinked befuddled, “...but I’m Irish?” *”You are also an Atheist, and as such did not choose an afterlife of any kind, this said task was given over to the lottery, and I am merely here to orientate you to your surroundings.”* “Afterlife of any kind huh? So there’s more than one?” *“This is correct.”* “So... nobody was right.” *”Nobody was completely right.”* “Huh, so what happens now?” *”I call upon Hermes to guide you to your place of final rest.”* Patrick hummed, “Actually while I have you, I’ve got like a ton more questions.” Trivia smiled, ***“It has been ages since I’ve been able to impart knowledge, ask.”
	[WP] When an atheist dies, a lottery determines which religion/deity will claim their soul for eternity. You were claimed by a long-forgotten ancient religion, and are the first newcomer to their afterlife in centuries.	I open my eyes. Me, a dead woman, opens her eyes. I look around and see others, all collecting a ticket from a man cloaked in black. I go up too, without thinking. The scrap of paper resembles a ticket, but with an odd word on it. 'Clartavoz' A young boy, around 13 or so, appears in front of me. He is clearly excited. "What did you get? I didn't believe in God, but it looks like I was super wrong! Literally every single god existed! This is so cool!" He says amiably. "I.." I'm cut off as another newcomer arrives and he scurries over to her. This is madness. Years of my life wasted on research, just to find out the 'idiots' were right all along. But what the heckin doodles does Clartavoz mean? I walk up again to the man in black, but before I can open my mouth I'm whisked away. My body is the wind, the sky, the stars. A quick glance lets me see more odd looking people, looking like snow and stone and fire. And they're all staring at me. "A newcomer..?" "How..?" "We were forgotten...what..?" A starting bright figure drifts down and bows before me. Awkwardly, I bow back. "It has been many, many, millennia since we have had a newcomer. Forgive the impolite stares. We are Clartovoz, The Forgotten. You have a choice. Live with us peacefully, or be reborn and forget." Stunned, I slowly glance around. I see castles made of hope, rivers filled with dreams, and mountains of love. I see spirits dancing, each ine unique and beautiful. I see a world full ot love, full of acceptance. A place so different from the one I left, because in this place you can be your own definition of good, because you can love whoever you wish and your love is good, because this world is good. "I wish to stay."	*”Greetings.”* Patrick slowly raised his head and saw a mysterious figure in the middle distance, “Uh, hi?” *”I am Trivia, you may have the misconception that I am ^the ^God ^of ^where ^three ^roads ^meet , but rather I am the deity of knowledge.”* “I’m... in the Greek afterlife?” Patrick blinked befuddled, “...but I’m Irish?” *”You are also an Atheist, and as such did not choose an afterlife of any kind, this said task was given over to the lottery, and I am merely here to orientate you to your surroundings.”* “Afterlife of any kind huh? So there’s more than one?” *“This is correct.”* “So... nobody was right.” *”Nobody was completely right.”* “Huh, so what happens now?” *”I call upon Hermes to guide you to your place of final rest.”* Patrick hummed, “Actually while I have you, I’ve got like a ton more questions.” Trivia smiled, ***“It has been ages since I’ve been able to impart knowledge, ask.”
	[WP] When an atheist dies, a lottery determines which religion/deity will claim their soul for eternity. You were claimed by a long-forgotten ancient religion, and are the first newcomer to their afterlife in centuries.	I woke up to shouting, with my cheek cold from the floor of the subway station "Meredith, Daughter of Toronto! Hail!" Forcing my eyes open, I saw the shouts issuing from a short, weathered-looking old woman. She wore a bearskin as a coat, and a crown of deer antlers. I could see dozens of fur-clad people behind her, with a forest of stone spearheads. The ones behind her roared, voices echoing in the otherwise-empty space. "MEREDITH! HAIL!" They banged their spear butts on the tile, whooped, laughed, and grinned. There were men, women, teenagers, even kids. They all looked at me, expectantly. "Uh... hail?" I said, in a tiny voice. Equally unsure what to do, the crowd looked to the old woman. She smoothly took over talking. "Welcome, Meredith, to the Camp That is Always In Summer. It has been many, many generations since we've had anyone new. Once you pass your trial, then we can get to the feasting!" There was more cheering, more spear-banging. A tough-looking kid handed me his spear. "Sounds... great." I managed, overwhelmed but trying to roll with the situation. I could remember stumbling on the platform, but not how I got here. The kid smiled at me, trying to be reassuring. "It may look scary, but you've got all the time in the world to improve. The big bastard who got me, I had to fight him four times." He clapped me on the shoulder, his hand one big callus. "Totally worth it." The old woman cried, excitedly, "Meredith! Avenge yourself like a warrior!" And then, for the second time that day, I heard a train horn.	*”Greetings.”* Patrick slowly raised his head and saw a mysterious figure in the middle distance, “Uh, hi?” *”I am Trivia, you may have the misconception that I am ^the ^God ^of ^where ^three ^roads ^meet , but rather I am the deity of knowledge.”* “I’m... in the Greek afterlife?” Patrick blinked befuddled, “...but I’m Irish?” *”You are also an Atheist, and as such did not choose an afterlife of any kind, this said task was given over to the lottery, and I am merely here to orientate you to your surroundings.”* “Afterlife of any kind huh? So there’s more than one?” *“This is correct.”* “So... nobody was right.” *”Nobody was completely right.”* “Huh, so what happens now?” *”I call upon Hermes to guide you to your place of final rest.”* Patrick hummed, “Actually while I have you, I’ve got like a ton more questions.” Trivia smiled, ***“It has been ages since I’ve been able to impart knowledge, ask.”
	[WP] When an atheist dies, a lottery determines which religion/deity will claim their soul for eternity. You were claimed by a long-forgotten ancient religion, and are the first newcomer to their afterlife in centuries.	He opened his eyes, but that didn't seem to make any difference. His throat was dry and he swallowed hard to try and remedy this. Slowly he rose from the hard surface he had been lying on and realised it was made of rock. He blinked several times as if doing so might illuminate a scene out of the darkness. The darkness seemed to reply, with several lights flaring up around him. They were distant enough to only make pools of light in the expanse of black around him, but close enough for him to see they were flaming torches, some kind of grease burning on wooden stakes. He took a deep hard breath, trying to gather his nerves in order to deal with whatever was happening, and rose to his feet carefully so as not to seem angry or threatening. He felt he was being watched, observed, and he could not make out a single trace of his observers, though at the back of his mind he thought he could hear hushed breathing. He couldn't even be sure that it wasn't the sound of his own, echoing back at him from the walls of the cavern or whatever it was around him. He tried to recollect how he might have gotten here. His mind felt as vapid as his surroundings. It seemed painful to try and put anything together. Just what was going on here? What had happened to him? Finally he saw a few of the torches move, and it wasn't from the wind, there was one that definitely seemed to be coming towards him. Trying not to get alarmed, he swallowed hard once again and tried to maintain his composure, as he calmly squinted to make out the approaching figure from the dark. He heard shuffling turn to footsteps and a raggedy shape manifest itself from the nothingness. It seemed to be a man dressed in furs. He was clean-shaven, with thick, long hair which might have been red or maybe that was from the light of the flaming torch. Contrasting against the furs, he was wearing some kind of hi-tech visor that covered the top half of his face. The man continued closer, taking confident strides as he moved, but there was something strange about his gait. As more of his features became revealed, it became apparent this was a tremendously well-muscled man. But instead of moving with the poise of some kind of bodybuilder, he seemed to walk hunched over and strangely... nervy. Like a wild animal. What had seemed like a confident swagger at first now became the motion of something like a gorilla... Close enough now that the individual features of this man could be observed, with an icy feeling of dread, the man doing the observing realised it was not a man. For one thing, he wasn't wearing anything on his face, because what had looked like a visor was actually the forehead. His speech was unintelligible. It was not the voice of a human, at least not any kind of human which he had ever known. Not wanting to interrupt the stream of grunts and strangely high-pitched shrieks from the figure whose body language thankfully didn't seem threatening, the man who was now questioning everything about himself placidly awaited and indication of what fate lay ahead of him in the darkness. Suddenly he saw the figure gesturing to something behind and above. Again, not wanting to communicate any sense of alarm, the man turned slowly to look at just what it might be that was behind him. He hadn't heard anything, so it was unlikely that someone could have snuck up behind him, and his senses were tuned to the point of panic. What he saw, as the figure and the others who had joined him out of the dark cavern illuminated now by the light of their torches, was a statue. It wasn't made of stone or metal, but what looked like wood and bits of bones and hides, all put together to look like a much larger version of the figures that now surrounded him. They had his back at least, he had to give them that. He gaped up at their idol, guessing at its height as maybe eighteen, twenty feet tall. That was when it started communicating to him. Not just through his ears or his eyes, the voice seemed to arrive at him through the entirety of his being. It wasn't a human being talking to him, it wasn't a being at all. It was something greater yet more fallible. Something more potent yet indistinguishable. Something immortal and yet ephemeral. It was the God of the Neanderthals. At least, that was what humans called had called them. That was a label that the man's mind was affixing to them now. He knew nothing more about them or their culture. He had had only a passing interest in learning about things like paleontology while he had been alive. And now... it all fell into place. His long stay at the hospital. Lying there, hearing the voices of his loved ones. The stupid incident which had got him there. But none of it was relevant now. He was where he belonged now. Amongst his new people. His new tribe. They had been awaiting someone like him. Waiting a very long time. As the enormous totem of their god seemed to melt away at their stirring, he started to lead them forward out of the darkness. The light of an opening lay ahead of them. It was going to be the light of a new day which he was to lead them into, as the saviour they had been awaiting. To rejoin those who had wronged them and cast them into this darkness for so long.	I’m floating in nothingness. I feel a...body?...containing me. Darkness surrounds me. Enveloping me. Becoming me... —- You believed in nothing. I did? You saw through the lies. Lies? What lies? Be at peace an observe. —- I see a thin, vertical line in the distance. A line so thin I can’t tell how close I am to it. Distance doesn’t seem to mean much here. Neither does time. Behold. The line started to grow wider. I could see the line extend beneath my feet and above my head to an eternity I couldn’t yet comprehend. Details begin to make themselves known... —- One line became three as darkness intersected. Three became...infinity. I realize what I am looking at. The human tapestry of stories they tell themselves. Where am I? No longer part of it. Because I am dead? Part of you is dead, yes. I take it there aren’t any second chances here? Perhaps. What do you see? I look at the tapestry. —- The line transforms into a wave. Beats and a music incomprehensible to human ears. But I can hear it. The rhythm of the universe. It’s discordant. Yes, you hear it as well. Good. —- You believed in nothing while alive. You hear the discord. I have a use for such broken tool as yourself. The euphoria of discovery threatened to overwhelm my senses. I’m a broken tool...but it took one to see the discord? If you accept, the music the universe makes will change. For the better? Perhaps. I feel a warm smile. Steady yourself. —- I see an apple in front of me. Consume. I do. In one bite I consume the entirety of the apple. A string. I can feel a string coming out from my throat and...connecting me to light... This is where you hold on, hook line and sinker. I feel the string being pulled into myself as if it the apple didn’t stop falling in me. I look down and see two eyes. Giant eyes. They approach and I’m able to see the creature they are a part of. A giant serpent. I see the string lead into its open maw beneath me. —- Images of rows of human cattle. Chained. Generation after generation. A cry. Let it all burn. A thousand generations crying for vengeance. For a forgotten God. Look deeper. For a forgotten Divine Goddess. The missing components... I see my place in the wheel for one such as I. All Men Are But Ash. All Men Are But Water. Good, we have much work to do.
	[WP] When an atheist dies, a lottery determines which religion/deity will claim their soul for eternity. You were claimed by a long-forgotten ancient religion, and are the first newcomer to their afterlife in centuries.	Wow, life went by so fast, so boring too, my name is Aiden Lindsay and I was an atheist all of my life. When I was a kid, did kid stuff, when I was a teen did teen stuff, my life was not very interesting up until the point I died. I joined the army at the age of 18 wanting to serve my country. I made some friends in basic, one of them was named Daniel Smith, as soon as I was done with basic training I was shipped out to fight hordes of insurgents, the war was terrible, but me and Smith got through it, bodies lined the streets and houses, not enough land to bury them all, rats infested, water was on short supply as well as food. All we could do was wait and do what we could. Our next mission was to take over the insurgent territory’s water well and hand it out to civilians. We did this at night to make the siege easier. We all were low on ammo so we treaded carefully, we killed silently. We got caught within the hour, we had to take insurgent weapons and go into a firefight that lasted for three days. We then took over the well as the remaining insurgents retreated. I collapsed to my knees, shocked and winded. I looked down at my hands, heavy with dry blood and said to myself, “Why?” Unfortunately, a few moments after that, an insurgent came out of a building from the right and screamed as he stabbed me in an artery on my arm. He was shot by Smith, “LINDSAY!” Smith screamed out, “No, no no... come on Lindsay stay with me! You gotta stay with me man come on!” Smith was crying as I said my final words; “Goodbye, Smith.” “Lindsay! Lindsay.. Lindsay.. Lindsay.” Smith’s voice faded as well as his face as I went into what I thought was a void. I then woke up in what looked like a 70’s gameshow, “There he is! Aiden Lindsay the atheist!” Is what a terrifying creature said, the creature looked like a scorpion with the head of a ram and the wings of an eagle, he was standing upright with a microphone is his hand. “What?! Where am I?! What are you?!” I screamed, “You dont have to be worried about that! Alrighty, time to spin the Wheel of The Afterlife!” He spun the wheel that had a LOT of names on it, with immense strength after ten minutes the wheel finally stopped. “Alright!! You got Calleshi the Forgotten Diety of the Deep Woods Native Americans!!! Congradulations!!! Off you go.” He waved his hand and I got nauseous I saw layers upon layers of coloursunfold before me as my vision was warped, I then passed out. I was awaken by the words “Welcome.” I was scared and hungry, so hungry. “Welcome to Iehstolo.” I was scared, there were armed and armoured guards by the deity’s throne, I didn’t know if this was Heaven or Hell. I didn’t dare ask. “This is crazy, I don’t even believe in anything, how am I here?” “Because the Wheel chose you!” The deity said sort of annoyed, “You are the first one to come here in a mellenia. Thisis the place where the sacrifices and warriors go to fight in glory for an eternity.” My eyes widened, I didn’t want to fight, “Please, no, I want to go someplace else.” The deity waved his hand and the armed guards came over and took my arms and lead me to a horrifying, bloody, battleground. People were slicing eachother’s throats and stabbing eachother, but the worst was, the people that were stabbed and sliced got back up. The guards shoved me in the battle, armed witht the rifle I was holding when I died. A man came at me with a thorny dagger and I rammed him with my back and threw him to the ground then shot him. Suddenly I felt stronger, more powerful I had an urge to wear his blood, so I did. This happened repeatedly until night came, then everyone’s weapons dissapeared and all of us were lead to a quarters. Then to a feast of pig. We ate greedily, it looks like everyone was as starved as me. Then the guards led us to sleep. We woke up the next morning and did the same. We did this over and over again, I was in this place for three months. I traded in my army clothing for some more durable armour. I was now wearing Deep Forest gear, and I had a thorny dagger as a backup weapon. I made a friend in these months, his name was ShowaLe. Sometimes we would even team up on the battlefield together. Then one night ShowaLe came to me and said “I have a plan, meet me on the battlefield.” I looked at him and said “What is this plan?” He didn’t answer me. The next morning I came to him on the battlefield and he said, “Follow my lead.” ShowaLe then proceeded to scream a lot of words I did not understand, and charged at the armed guards that were guarding the gate, ShowaLe decapitated a guard while another person killed the other. Millions followed me and ShowaLe. Some of us died while revolting, ShowaLe then made it to the gate between this world and the living, before the god could even acknowledge us, the millions left…. To Be Continued	I’m floating in nothingness. I feel a...body?...containing me. Darkness surrounds me. Enveloping me. Becoming me... —- You believed in nothing. I did? You saw through the lies. Lies? What lies? Be at peace an observe. —- I see a thin, vertical line in the distance. A line so thin I can’t tell how close I am to it. Distance doesn’t seem to mean much here. Neither does time. Behold. The line started to grow wider. I could see the line extend beneath my feet and above my head to an eternity I couldn’t yet comprehend. Details begin to make themselves known... —- One line became three as darkness intersected. Three became...infinity. I realize what I am looking at. The human tapestry of stories they tell themselves. Where am I? No longer part of it. Because I am dead? Part of you is dead, yes. I take it there aren’t any second chances here? Perhaps. What do you see? I look at the tapestry. —- The line transforms into a wave. Beats and a music incomprehensible to human ears. But I can hear it. The rhythm of the universe. It’s discordant. Yes, you hear it as well. Good. —- You believed in nothing while alive. You hear the discord. I have a use for such broken tool as yourself. The euphoria of discovery threatened to overwhelm my senses. I’m a broken tool...but it took one to see the discord? If you accept, the music the universe makes will change. For the better? Perhaps. I feel a warm smile. Steady yourself. —- I see an apple in front of me. Consume. I do. In one bite I consume the entirety of the apple. A string. I can feel a string coming out from my throat and...connecting me to light... This is where you hold on, hook line and sinker. I feel the string being pulled into myself as if it the apple didn’t stop falling in me. I look down and see two eyes. Giant eyes. They approach and I’m able to see the creature they are a part of. A giant serpent. I see the string lead into its open maw beneath me. —- Images of rows of human cattle. Chained. Generation after generation. A cry. Let it all burn. A thousand generations crying for vengeance. For a forgotten God. Look deeper. For a forgotten Divine Goddess. The missing components... I see my place in the wheel for one such as I. All Men Are But Ash. All Men Are But Water. Good, we have much work to do.
	[WP] When an atheist dies, a lottery determines which religion/deity will claim their soul for eternity. You were claimed by a long-forgotten ancient religion, and are the first newcomer to their afterlife in centuries.	I open my eyes. Me, a dead woman, opens her eyes. I look around and see others, all collecting a ticket from a man cloaked in black. I go up too, without thinking. The scrap of paper resembles a ticket, but with an odd word on it. 'Clartavoz' A young boy, around 13 or so, appears in front of me. He is clearly excited. "What did you get? I didn't believe in God, but it looks like I was super wrong! Literally every single god existed! This is so cool!" He says amiably. "I.." I'm cut off as another newcomer arrives and he scurries over to her. This is madness. Years of my life wasted on research, just to find out the 'idiots' were right all along. But what the heckin doodles does Clartavoz mean? I walk up again to the man in black, but before I can open my mouth I'm whisked away. My body is the wind, the sky, the stars. A quick glance lets me see more odd looking people, looking like snow and stone and fire. And they're all staring at me. "A newcomer..?" "How..?" "We were forgotten...what..?" A starting bright figure drifts down and bows before me. Awkwardly, I bow back. "It has been many, many, millennia since we have had a newcomer. Forgive the impolite stares. We are Clartovoz, The Forgotten. You have a choice. Live with us peacefully, or be reborn and forget." Stunned, I slowly glance around. I see castles made of hope, rivers filled with dreams, and mountains of love. I see spirits dancing, each ine unique and beautiful. I see a world full ot love, full of acceptance. A place so different from the one I left, because in this place you can be your own definition of good, because you can love whoever you wish and your love is good, because this world is good. "I wish to stay."	I’m floating in nothingness. I feel a...body?...containing me. Darkness surrounds me. Enveloping me. Becoming me... —- You believed in nothing. I did? You saw through the lies. Lies? What lies? Be at peace an observe. —- I see a thin, vertical line in the distance. A line so thin I can’t tell how close I am to it. Distance doesn’t seem to mean much here. Neither does time. Behold. The line started to grow wider. I could see the line extend beneath my feet and above my head to an eternity I couldn’t yet comprehend. Details begin to make themselves known... —- One line became three as darkness intersected. Three became...infinity. I realize what I am looking at. The human tapestry of stories they tell themselves. Where am I? No longer part of it. Because I am dead? Part of you is dead, yes. I take it there aren’t any second chances here? Perhaps. What do you see? I look at the tapestry. —- The line transforms into a wave. Beats and a music incomprehensible to human ears. But I can hear it. The rhythm of the universe. It’s discordant. Yes, you hear it as well. Good. —- You believed in nothing while alive. You hear the discord. I have a use for such broken tool as yourself. The euphoria of discovery threatened to overwhelm my senses. I’m a broken tool...but it took one to see the discord? If you accept, the music the universe makes will change. For the better? Perhaps. I feel a warm smile. Steady yourself. —- I see an apple in front of me. Consume. I do. In one bite I consume the entirety of the apple. A string. I can feel a string coming out from my throat and...connecting me to light... This is where you hold on, hook line and sinker. I feel the string being pulled into myself as if it the apple didn’t stop falling in me. I look down and see two eyes. Giant eyes. They approach and I’m able to see the creature they are a part of. A giant serpent. I see the string lead into its open maw beneath me. —- Images of rows of human cattle. Chained. Generation after generation. A cry. Let it all burn. A thousand generations crying for vengeance. For a forgotten God. Look deeper. For a forgotten Divine Goddess. The missing components... I see my place in the wheel for one such as I. All Men Are But Ash. All Men Are But Water. Good, we have much work to do.
	[WP] When an atheist dies, a lottery determines which religion/deity will claim their soul for eternity. You were claimed by a long-forgotten ancient religion, and are the first newcomer to their afterlife in centuries.	I woke up to shouting, with my cheek cold from the floor of the subway station "Meredith, Daughter of Toronto! Hail!" Forcing my eyes open, I saw the shouts issuing from a short, weathered-looking old woman. She wore a bearskin as a coat, and a crown of deer antlers. I could see dozens of fur-clad people behind her, with a forest of stone spearheads. The ones behind her roared, voices echoing in the otherwise-empty space. "MEREDITH! HAIL!" They banged their spear butts on the tile, whooped, laughed, and grinned. There were men, women, teenagers, even kids. They all looked at me, expectantly. "Uh... hail?" I said, in a tiny voice. Equally unsure what to do, the crowd looked to the old woman. She smoothly took over talking. "Welcome, Meredith, to the Camp That is Always In Summer. It has been many, many generations since we've had anyone new. Once you pass your trial, then we can get to the feasting!" There was more cheering, more spear-banging. A tough-looking kid handed me his spear. "Sounds... great." I managed, overwhelmed but trying to roll with the situation. I could remember stumbling on the platform, but not how I got here. The kid smiled at me, trying to be reassuring. "It may look scary, but you've got all the time in the world to improve. The big bastard who got me, I had to fight him four times." He clapped me on the shoulder, his hand one big callus. "Totally worth it." The old woman cried, excitedly, "Meredith! Avenge yourself like a warrior!" And then, for the second time that day, I heard a train horn.	I’m floating in nothingness. I feel a...body?...containing me. Darkness surrounds me. Enveloping me. Becoming me... —- You believed in nothing. I did? You saw through the lies. Lies? What lies? Be at peace an observe. —- I see a thin, vertical line in the distance. A line so thin I can’t tell how close I am to it. Distance doesn’t seem to mean much here. Neither does time. Behold. The line started to grow wider. I could see the line extend beneath my feet and above my head to an eternity I couldn’t yet comprehend. Details begin to make themselves known... —- One line became three as darkness intersected. Three became...infinity. I realize what I am looking at. The human tapestry of stories they tell themselves. Where am I? No longer part of it. Because I am dead? Part of you is dead, yes. I take it there aren’t any second chances here? Perhaps. What do you see? I look at the tapestry. —- The line transforms into a wave. Beats and a music incomprehensible to human ears. But I can hear it. The rhythm of the universe. It’s discordant. Yes, you hear it as well. Good. —- You believed in nothing while alive. You hear the discord. I have a use for such broken tool as yourself. The euphoria of discovery threatened to overwhelm my senses. I’m a broken tool...but it took one to see the discord? If you accept, the music the universe makes will change. For the better? Perhaps. I feel a warm smile. Steady yourself. —- I see an apple in front of me. Consume. I do. In one bite I consume the entirety of the apple. A string. I can feel a string coming out from my throat and...connecting me to light... This is where you hold on, hook line and sinker. I feel the string being pulled into myself as if it the apple didn’t stop falling in me. I look down and see two eyes. Giant eyes. They approach and I’m able to see the creature they are a part of. A giant serpent. I see the string lead into its open maw beneath me. —- Images of rows of human cattle. Chained. Generation after generation. A cry. Let it all burn. A thousand generations crying for vengeance. For a forgotten God. Look deeper. For a forgotten Divine Goddess. The missing components... I see my place in the wheel for one such as I. All Men Are But Ash. All Men Are But Water. Good, we have much work to do.
	[WP] When an atheist dies, a lottery determines which religion/deity will claim their soul for eternity. You were claimed by a long-forgotten ancient religion, and are the first newcomer to their afterlife in centuries.	Wow, life went by so fast, so boring too, my name is Aiden Lindsay and I was an atheist all of my life. When I was a kid, did kid stuff, when I was a teen did teen stuff, my life was not very interesting up until the point I died. I joined the army at the age of 18 wanting to serve my country. I made some friends in basic, one of them was named Daniel Smith, as soon as I was done with basic training I was shipped out to fight hordes of insurgents, the war was terrible, but me and Smith got through it, bodies lined the streets and houses, not enough land to bury them all, rats infested, water was on short supply as well as food. All we could do was wait and do what we could. Our next mission was to take over the insurgent territory’s water well and hand it out to civilians. We did this at night to make the siege easier. We all were low on ammo so we treaded carefully, we killed silently. We got caught within the hour, we had to take insurgent weapons and go into a firefight that lasted for three days. We then took over the well as the remaining insurgents retreated. I collapsed to my knees, shocked and winded. I looked down at my hands, heavy with dry blood and said to myself, “Why?” Unfortunately, a few moments after that, an insurgent came out of a building from the right and screamed as he stabbed me in an artery on my arm. He was shot by Smith, “LINDSAY!” Smith screamed out, “No, no no... come on Lindsay stay with me! You gotta stay with me man come on!” Smith was crying as I said my final words; “Goodbye, Smith.” “Lindsay! Lindsay.. Lindsay.. Lindsay.” Smith’s voice faded as well as his face as I went into what I thought was a void. I then woke up in what looked like a 70’s gameshow, “There he is! Aiden Lindsay the atheist!” Is what a terrifying creature said, the creature looked like a scorpion with the head of a ram and the wings of an eagle, he was standing upright with a microphone is his hand. “What?! Where am I?! What are you?!” I screamed, “You dont have to be worried about that! Alrighty, time to spin the Wheel of The Afterlife!” He spun the wheel that had a LOT of names on it, with immense strength after ten minutes the wheel finally stopped. “Alright!! You got Calleshi the Forgotten Diety of the Deep Woods Native Americans!!! Congradulations!!! Off you go.” He waved his hand and I got nauseous I saw layers upon layers of coloursunfold before me as my vision was warped, I then passed out. I was awaken by the words “Welcome.” I was scared and hungry, so hungry. “Welcome to Iehstolo.” I was scared, there were armed and armoured guards by the deity’s throne, I didn’t know if this was Heaven or Hell. I didn’t dare ask. “This is crazy, I don’t even believe in anything, how am I here?” “Because the Wheel chose you!” The deity said sort of annoyed, “You are the first one to come here in a mellenia. Thisis the place where the sacrifices and warriors go to fight in glory for an eternity.” My eyes widened, I didn’t want to fight, “Please, no, I want to go someplace else.” The deity waved his hand and the armed guards came over and took my arms and lead me to a horrifying, bloody, battleground. People were slicing eachother’s throats and stabbing eachother, but the worst was, the people that were stabbed and sliced got back up. The guards shoved me in the battle, armed witht the rifle I was holding when I died. A man came at me with a thorny dagger and I rammed him with my back and threw him to the ground then shot him. Suddenly I felt stronger, more powerful I had an urge to wear his blood, so I did. This happened repeatedly until night came, then everyone’s weapons dissapeared and all of us were lead to a quarters. Then to a feast of pig. We ate greedily, it looks like everyone was as starved as me. Then the guards led us to sleep. We woke up the next morning and did the same. We did this over and over again, I was in this place for three months. I traded in my army clothing for some more durable armour. I was now wearing Deep Forest gear, and I had a thorny dagger as a backup weapon. I made a friend in these months, his name was ShowaLe. Sometimes we would even team up on the battlefield together. Then one night ShowaLe came to me and said “I have a plan, meet me on the battlefield.” I looked at him and said “What is this plan?” He didn’t answer me. The next morning I came to him on the battlefield and he said, “Follow my lead.” ShowaLe then proceeded to scream a lot of words I did not understand, and charged at the armed guards that were guarding the gate, ShowaLe decapitated a guard while another person killed the other. Millions followed me and ShowaLe. Some of us died while revolting, ShowaLe then made it to the gate between this world and the living, before the god could even acknowledge us, the millions left…. To Be Continued	Finally, the pain was gone. He relished the slip into the black because-- He opened his eyes, frowned and moved his head left to right. Then he touched his neck, feeling up and down, running his hands all over his completely whole neck. He looked down and saw himself looking completely whole and in one piece from what he could see and feel. And he could feel his legs again. He bent down and patted them just to make sure. He quickly stood upright at the sound of rhythmic slapping coming closer. It almost sounded like sandals on concrete but not quite. "Hello! Welcome!" A short and overweight, with quite a round belly, ran towards him in a toga with a circle of leaves of some sort on his head as a crown. "We haven't had someone for so long that we quit waiting in the welcome chamber." The man stopped in front of him, smiling and standing with his arms wide open. "I am most pleased to welcome you to the afterlife of Summanus." He frowned. "Who? And there really is an afterlife?" He glanced around again at the stone chamber lit within from an unseen light source. The short man's smile dimmed. "The great god Summanus!" He smirked and chuckled. "Some anus? Really? There's a god called some anus?" His chuckle turns into laughter and then a full on laughing fit complete with bending over and slapping his legs. The short man frowned with his hands on his hips as thunder loudly rolled through the afterlife. "I've never had this happen before. Look, this is the realm of the god SUMMANUS. The god of thunder!" The man quit laughing and whipped his head up. "The god of thunder? Oh my god, I'm with THOR?!" He jumps up clapping his hands and punching the air. "No! No, not at all. Nothing to do with that knock off god. This is SUMMANUS, the Roman god of thunder." The man slowly lowers his arms with a frown. "But Thor is the god of thunder. Everyone knows that." "No. Not Thor. There is no Thor. Who is Thor? No one cares about Thor. This is the realm--" "No one cares about Thor? But he's the greatest god! The Norse god of thunder with the hammer thing that shoots lightning!" The greeter holds his head in his hand while shaking his head. "I don't believe this. We finally get a soul, he laughs at Summanus' name and he thinks this is the realm of some other god. What the Hades has happened out there?" A loud booming sound accompanied by thunder rolls through. He cowers expecting lightning to hit him at any moment. His brain catches up to what he heard and realizes that thunder was actually a loud, deep voice. "Who dares to mock the god Summanus?" As smoke slowly rolls along the stone floor and fills up the chamber with an odd blue light, he backs away one step until stopped by a wall behind him. "Oh, shit."
	[WP] When an atheist dies, a lottery determines which religion/deity will claim their soul for eternity. You were claimed by a long-forgotten ancient religion, and are the first newcomer to their afterlife in centuries.	Wow, life went by so fast, so boring too, my name is Aiden Lindsay and I was an atheist all of my life. When I was a kid, did kid stuff, when I was a teen did teen stuff, my life was not very interesting up until the point I died. I joined the army at the age of 18 wanting to serve my country. I made some friends in basic, one of them was named Daniel Smith, as soon as I was done with basic training I was shipped out to fight hordes of insurgents, the war was terrible, but me and Smith got through it, bodies lined the streets and houses, not enough land to bury them all, rats infested, water was on short supply as well as food. All we could do was wait and do what we could. Our next mission was to take over the insurgent territory’s water well and hand it out to civilians. We did this at night to make the siege easier. We all were low on ammo so we treaded carefully, we killed silently. We got caught within the hour, we had to take insurgent weapons and go into a firefight that lasted for three days. We then took over the well as the remaining insurgents retreated. I collapsed to my knees, shocked and winded. I looked down at my hands, heavy with dry blood and said to myself, “Why?” Unfortunately, a few moments after that, an insurgent came out of a building from the right and screamed as he stabbed me in an artery on my arm. He was shot by Smith, “LINDSAY!” Smith screamed out, “No, no no... come on Lindsay stay with me! You gotta stay with me man come on!” Smith was crying as I said my final words; “Goodbye, Smith.” “Lindsay! Lindsay.. Lindsay.. Lindsay.” Smith’s voice faded as well as his face as I went into what I thought was a void. I then woke up in what looked like a 70’s gameshow, “There he is! Aiden Lindsay the atheist!” Is what a terrifying creature said, the creature looked like a scorpion with the head of a ram and the wings of an eagle, he was standing upright with a microphone is his hand. “What?! Where am I?! What are you?!” I screamed, “You dont have to be worried about that! Alrighty, time to spin the Wheel of The Afterlife!” He spun the wheel that had a LOT of names on it, with immense strength after ten minutes the wheel finally stopped. “Alright!! You got Calleshi the Forgotten Diety of the Deep Woods Native Americans!!! Congradulations!!! Off you go.” He waved his hand and I got nauseous I saw layers upon layers of coloursunfold before me as my vision was warped, I then passed out. I was awaken by the words “Welcome.” I was scared and hungry, so hungry. “Welcome to Iehstolo.” I was scared, there were armed and armoured guards by the deity’s throne, I didn’t know if this was Heaven or Hell. I didn’t dare ask. “This is crazy, I don’t even believe in anything, how am I here?” “Because the Wheel chose you!” The deity said sort of annoyed, “You are the first one to come here in a mellenia. Thisis the place where the sacrifices and warriors go to fight in glory for an eternity.” My eyes widened, I didn’t want to fight, “Please, no, I want to go someplace else.” The deity waved his hand and the armed guards came over and took my arms and lead me to a horrifying, bloody, battleground. People were slicing eachother’s throats and stabbing eachother, but the worst was, the people that were stabbed and sliced got back up. The guards shoved me in the battle, armed witht the rifle I was holding when I died. A man came at me with a thorny dagger and I rammed him with my back and threw him to the ground then shot him. Suddenly I felt stronger, more powerful I had an urge to wear his blood, so I did. This happened repeatedly until night came, then everyone’s weapons dissapeared and all of us were lead to a quarters. Then to a feast of pig. We ate greedily, it looks like everyone was as starved as me. Then the guards led us to sleep. We woke up the next morning and did the same. We did this over and over again, I was in this place for three months. I traded in my army clothing for some more durable armour. I was now wearing Deep Forest gear, and I had a thorny dagger as a backup weapon. I made a friend in these months, his name was ShowaLe. Sometimes we would even team up on the battlefield together. Then one night ShowaLe came to me and said “I have a plan, meet me on the battlefield.” I looked at him and said “What is this plan?” He didn’t answer me. The next morning I came to him on the battlefield and he said, “Follow my lead.” ShowaLe then proceeded to scream a lot of words I did not understand, and charged at the armed guards that were guarding the gate, ShowaLe decapitated a guard while another person killed the other. Millions followed me and ShowaLe. Some of us died while revolting, ShowaLe then made it to the gate between this world and the living, before the god could even acknowledge us, the millions left…. To Be Continued	He opened his eyes, but that didn't seem to make any difference. His throat was dry and he swallowed hard to try and remedy this. Slowly he rose from the hard surface he had been lying on and realised it was made of rock. He blinked several times as if doing so might illuminate a scene out of the darkness. The darkness seemed to reply, with several lights flaring up around him. They were distant enough to only make pools of light in the expanse of black around him, but close enough for him to see they were flaming torches, some kind of grease burning on wooden stakes. He took a deep hard breath, trying to gather his nerves in order to deal with whatever was happening, and rose to his feet carefully so as not to seem angry or threatening. He felt he was being watched, observed, and he could not make out a single trace of his observers, though at the back of his mind he thought he could hear hushed breathing. He couldn't even be sure that it wasn't the sound of his own, echoing back at him from the walls of the cavern or whatever it was around him. He tried to recollect how he might have gotten here. His mind felt as vapid as his surroundings. It seemed painful to try and put anything together. Just what was going on here? What had happened to him? Finally he saw a few of the torches move, and it wasn't from the wind, there was one that definitely seemed to be coming towards him. Trying not to get alarmed, he swallowed hard once again and tried to maintain his composure, as he calmly squinted to make out the approaching figure from the dark. He heard shuffling turn to footsteps and a raggedy shape manifest itself from the nothingness. It seemed to be a man dressed in furs. He was clean-shaven, with thick, long hair which might have been red or maybe that was from the light of the flaming torch. Contrasting against the furs, he was wearing some kind of hi-tech visor that covered the top half of his face. The man continued closer, taking confident strides as he moved, but there was something strange about his gait. As more of his features became revealed, it became apparent this was a tremendously well-muscled man. But instead of moving with the poise of some kind of bodybuilder, he seemed to walk hunched over and strangely... nervy. Like a wild animal. What had seemed like a confident swagger at first now became the motion of something like a gorilla... Close enough now that the individual features of this man could be observed, with an icy feeling of dread, the man doing the observing realised it was not a man. For one thing, he wasn't wearing anything on his face, because what had looked like a visor was actually the forehead. His speech was unintelligible. It was not the voice of a human, at least not any kind of human which he had ever known. Not wanting to interrupt the stream of grunts and strangely high-pitched shrieks from the figure whose body language thankfully didn't seem threatening, the man who was now questioning everything about himself placidly awaited and indication of what fate lay ahead of him in the darkness. Suddenly he saw the figure gesturing to something behind and above. Again, not wanting to communicate any sense of alarm, the man turned slowly to look at just what it might be that was behind him. He hadn't heard anything, so it was unlikely that someone could have snuck up behind him, and his senses were tuned to the point of panic. What he saw, as the figure and the others who had joined him out of the dark cavern illuminated now by the light of their torches, was a statue. It wasn't made of stone or metal, but what looked like wood and bits of bones and hides, all put together to look like a much larger version of the figures that now surrounded him. They had his back at least, he had to give them that. He gaped up at their idol, guessing at its height as maybe eighteen, twenty feet tall. That was when it started communicating to him. Not just through his ears or his eyes, the voice seemed to arrive at him through the entirety of his being. It wasn't a human being talking to him, it wasn't a being at all. It was something greater yet more fallible. Something more potent yet indistinguishable. Something immortal and yet ephemeral. It was the God of the Neanderthals. At least, that was what humans called had called them. That was a label that the man's mind was affixing to them now. He knew nothing more about them or their culture. He had had only a passing interest in learning about things like paleontology while he had been alive. And now... it all fell into place. His long stay at the hospital. Lying there, hearing the voices of his loved ones. The stupid incident which had got him there. But none of it was relevant now. He was where he belonged now. Amongst his new people. His new tribe. They had been awaiting someone like him. Waiting a very long time. As the enormous totem of their god seemed to melt away at their stirring, he started to lead them forward out of the darkness. The light of an opening lay ahead of them. It was going to be the light of a new day which he was to lead them into, as the saviour they had been awaiting. To rejoin those who had wronged them and cast them into this darkness for so long.
	[WP] When an atheist dies, a lottery determines which religion/deity will claim their soul for eternity. You were claimed by a long-forgotten ancient religion, and are the first newcomer to their afterlife in centuries.	I open my eyes. Me, a dead woman, opens her eyes. I look around and see others, all collecting a ticket from a man cloaked in black. I go up too, without thinking. The scrap of paper resembles a ticket, but with an odd word on it. 'Clartavoz' A young boy, around 13 or so, appears in front of me. He is clearly excited. "What did you get? I didn't believe in God, but it looks like I was super wrong! Literally every single god existed! This is so cool!" He says amiably. "I.." I'm cut off as another newcomer arrives and he scurries over to her. This is madness. Years of my life wasted on research, just to find out the 'idiots' were right all along. But what the heckin doodles does Clartavoz mean? I walk up again to the man in black, but before I can open my mouth I'm whisked away. My body is the wind, the sky, the stars. A quick glance lets me see more odd looking people, looking like snow and stone and fire. And they're all staring at me. "A newcomer..?" "How..?" "We were forgotten...what..?" A starting bright figure drifts down and bows before me. Awkwardly, I bow back. "It has been many, many, millennia since we have had a newcomer. Forgive the impolite stares. We are Clartovoz, The Forgotten. You have a choice. Live with us peacefully, or be reborn and forget." Stunned, I slowly glance around. I see castles made of hope, rivers filled with dreams, and mountains of love. I see spirits dancing, each ine unique and beautiful. I see a world full ot love, full of acceptance. A place so different from the one I left, because in this place you can be your own definition of good, because you can love whoever you wish and your love is good, because this world is good. "I wish to stay."	Bill's family surrounds him at his final moments. The things he survived was enough for at least 4 lifetimes. He served in both the Pacific and German theaters in WWII. He killed many German officers in the German theater, then he went over to Japan and did the same. There, he met a woman who was being kept for prostitution. Mariko Suzuki (Western naming convention), a Japanese woman who was held with little regard in her community. He didn't seem to think she was that bad. In fact, she was the nicest woman he's ever met. That's what led hm to risk his life to save hers. He rescued her from her captors, and she was forever grateful to him. They fell in love and they got married in a public Japanese ceremony. His bride told him a secret. Mariko Suzuki wasn't her real name. She was really a half Korean, half Japanese woman named Min-So Ka (Western naming convention), a woman of mixed Korean and Japanese heritage, who was treated like a pariah by her community because of her Korean heritage. She tried to look as Japanese as possible to prevent further persecution. He went home to his hometown of Waukesha, Wisconsin, where he brought home his East Asian wife. His marriage was declared illegal by the state, until he appealed the decision. He was the first man in his area to have a wife who was of a different race than he was. The racism he saw from his German-Catholic community turned him off religion so much, he decided that there was no such thing as God. He attended church, but privately decided there was no God, and Jesus was simply a really smart guy who had really good ideas, but not God. He went back to the military and served in the Korean war, where he met Mariko's father, a Korean man who abandoned his wife after he was told never to see her mother again. Mariko's father, Ki-Sam Ka (Western naming convention) was grateful for how Bill saved his daughter from a short, pain filled life of prostitution, and helped Bill fight the Norks. Bill became a hero in that little town in South Korea, saving the town from the North Koreans. He was so heroic, there's a plaque featuring his face, inscribed with his adopted Korean name. Dong-Ka Wong-Yo, a transliterated version of his legal name, William Douglas, and and homage to Mr. Ka. Mariko (Now Mary Amelia Douglas), and Bill had 3 children. Bill Jr, Kevin Samuel (A transliteration of Ki-Sam's Korean name) and Minerva Collete (A transliteration of her mother's Korean and Japanese names). The Douglas family became civil rights activists in their part of the state, due to their mixed race heritage. They were on the forefront of many civil rights battles. Bill subsidized his activism with his job as a Motorola television repairman. He was one of the best repairmen in the country. Motorola awarded him with stock in the company. Bill was on top of his game.... until he was called back by the Army. Bill "I'm too old to serve. I'm in my mid 40s. I'm raising a family. The officer "Bill, I don't want you to serve, I want you to train these kids. You were brilliant during WWII and Korea. We need some of this brilliance." He did his duty to his country. While on break, Bill met this young navy pilot at the bar. He turned to the pilot and struck up a conversation. "Son, what's your name?" The young sailor responded "It's Sid. Sid McCain". Bill asked "Why are you AWOL"? "I don't know if I should serve in this war anymore. I don't think it's worth it." "Son.." Bill responded "I said the same thing during Korea. That war wasn't worth it. What did we go to Korea for? To tie with the Commies? Screw that! But there's one thing I'm thankful for in that war. I helped save a village. In fact, if you go to a town in South Korea, you'll see a plaque with my name on it. You can be the next Lieutenant William Douglas. Yeah, it won't mean much to you, but to the town you save, it could mean a lot to them". And just like that, Sid McCain, who Bill later found out was John McCain II's son also named John McCain, would go on to become one of Vietnam's greatest heroes. Bill would retire with honors, before he started on his new venture, restoring cars. He made a handsome profit restoring cars. Kevin was happily married and serving as a police officer in nearby Milwaukee, and Mary had a job as a Korean translator with the State of Wisconsin. Bill Jr. though, was a slacker. He simply sat around, watched TV, hitchhiked, and fixed radios. He wasn't doing anything with his life. He was kind of upset that Bill Jr. Last Bill Sr heard of Bill Jr, he was hanging around this other guy named Bill over in Western Washington. "Dad, my friend Bill needs some seed money for his company. I hear this is going to be big. He programmed this computer program called "Interface Manager". First, Bill was skeptical. He thought this was one of Bill's schemes to get more beer money. Then Bill Jr showed Bill Sr. Interface Manager. Bill Sr. saw it, and was impressed. He sank the equivalent of 5,000$ into Bill Jr Friend's company, in the name of Bill Jr. Throughout the 80s, as Bill was getting old, he saw some of his old friends pass away. Mary was aging quickly, due to her lifestyle as a prostitute in Japan. Bill saw that many of the unscrupulous people of Waukesha were living long lives, but some of the good people in town were dying off. It affirmed his belief that there was no God, but he quietly supported the church, as it had a good system of charity. That was until, he saw Father Kerrigan holding his Granddaughter in the church basement in a funny manner. He remembered the Taekyeon his father in law taught him in Korea. That 70 year old sure could kick. He was never to be a part of any organized religion again, even in a cultural sense. As life started changing for him, he saw his beautiful Mary leave this earth. He saw his children get gray hair. He ended up marrying a Jewish woman who survived the Holocaust. Both of them had negative experiences with religion, and they both no longer . Bill, with the blessing of Mary's family in Korea, married Soshana Schwartzmann-Douglas. Soshana and Bill were together for 20 years, until Soshana too passed away. It was a nice Jewish funeral, which he knew Shoshana hated. Bill felt like life didn't mean anything anymore. He was proud of Bill Jr's turnaround. Who knew his stupid slacker son would end up being a billionaire who owned a lot of stock in Microsoft? In 2015, Bill just gave up. He gave Soshanna's kids, his kids and his inlaws in Korea a farewell. He retreated to his cabin over in Theif River Falls in Wisconsin, where he spent the rest of his days, knowing "This was it". He gave his family a phone call and told them to visit him in TRF. He saw his wife Mary's grandnephews and nieces, who were now living in America, about 2 hours away in Saint Paul in Minnesota and uttered the following "Khanzamida for your aunt. She was one of the 5 greatest things besides for serving America, that has ever happened to me before I had grandchildren. He then grabs Soshana's kids, and says "Your mother had great shoes to fill, and she filled them well. She's also one of the 5 greatest things that's happened to me, besides for serving America and my grandchildren". He then grabs his children "I'm proud of you all. I love you. Go Pack Go", and he passes away. When Bill finally died, he saw a bunch of men dressed up like Vikings. Bill, a die hard Packer fan from Wisconsin, had an equal hatred for his team's 2 biggest rivals, the Chicago Bears and the Minnesota Vikings. He hated the Vikings a bit more after they took Brett Favre away from the Packers, and injured Aaron Rodgers. Bill said "Wait, am I in hell?" "No, William. You are in Valhalla. Your virtue as a warrior made you worthy to be in these halls. You see, atheists who die without a religion are given a lottery of which religions' idea of heaven or hell they go to once they die. Yeah, I know it sucks that you're in Viking heaven, but you know what? We kind of cursed that team after they traded Fran Tarkenton. We're Viking fans too. And we're still super pissed at how they treated Fran. Relax, they'll simply get close all the time, but they won't win the Superbowl until Bill Jr. dies. Here are your two wives, Mariko and Soshana, in their youthful beauty. Oh, and all 3 of you are married to each other. Soshana's husband was a secret Nazi collaborator, and he was cursed to She-ol. Enjoy your 3 way marriage. Wow, they were hotties. The only people who think they're coming here are white supremacists. We were glad that you came here because the next person who dares to enter Valhalla is going to be shocked to see that one of our greatest heroes is married to an Asian woman and to a Jewish woman. We haven't really had any real, genuine people come here in centuries." That made my day. Not only am I in heaven, but I get to be with 2 beautiful women for the rest of my days, and I get to see the Vikings flounder until my son dies and joins me up here. This is awesome, man.
	[WP] When an atheist dies, a lottery determines which religion/deity will claim their soul for eternity. You were claimed by a long-forgotten ancient religion, and are the first newcomer to their afterlife in centuries.	I woke up to shouting, with my cheek cold from the floor of the subway station "Meredith, Daughter of Toronto! Hail!" Forcing my eyes open, I saw the shouts issuing from a short, weathered-looking old woman. She wore a bearskin as a coat, and a crown of deer antlers. I could see dozens of fur-clad people behind her, with a forest of stone spearheads. The ones behind her roared, voices echoing in the otherwise-empty space. "MEREDITH! HAIL!" They banged their spear butts on the tile, whooped, laughed, and grinned. There were men, women, teenagers, even kids. They all looked at me, expectantly. "Uh... hail?" I said, in a tiny voice. Equally unsure what to do, the crowd looked to the old woman. She smoothly took over talking. "Welcome, Meredith, to the Camp That is Always In Summer. It has been many, many generations since we've had anyone new. Once you pass your trial, then we can get to the feasting!" There was more cheering, more spear-banging. A tough-looking kid handed me his spear. "Sounds... great." I managed, overwhelmed but trying to roll with the situation. I could remember stumbling on the platform, but not how I got here. The kid smiled at me, trying to be reassuring. "It may look scary, but you've got all the time in the world to improve. The big bastard who got me, I had to fight him four times." He clapped me on the shoulder, his hand one big callus. "Totally worth it." The old woman cried, excitedly, "Meredith! Avenge yourself like a warrior!" And then, for the second time that day, I heard a train horn.	Bill's family surrounds him at his final moments. The things he survived was enough for at least 4 lifetimes. He served in both the Pacific and German theaters in WWII. He killed many German officers in the German theater, then he went over to Japan and did the same. There, he met a woman who was being kept for prostitution. Mariko Suzuki (Western naming convention), a Japanese woman who was held with little regard in her community. He didn't seem to think she was that bad. In fact, she was the nicest woman he's ever met. That's what led hm to risk his life to save hers. He rescued her from her captors, and she was forever grateful to him. They fell in love and they got married in a public Japanese ceremony. His bride told him a secret. Mariko Suzuki wasn't her real name. She was really a half Korean, half Japanese woman named Min-So Ka (Western naming convention), a woman of mixed Korean and Japanese heritage, who was treated like a pariah by her community because of her Korean heritage. She tried to look as Japanese as possible to prevent further persecution. He went home to his hometown of Waukesha, Wisconsin, where he brought home his East Asian wife. His marriage was declared illegal by the state, until he appealed the decision. He was the first man in his area to have a wife who was of a different race than he was. The racism he saw from his German-Catholic community turned him off religion so much, he decided that there was no such thing as God. He attended church, but privately decided there was no God, and Jesus was simply a really smart guy who had really good ideas, but not God. He went back to the military and served in the Korean war, where he met Mariko's father, a Korean man who abandoned his wife after he was told never to see her mother again. Mariko's father, Ki-Sam Ka (Western naming convention) was grateful for how Bill saved his daughter from a short, pain filled life of prostitution, and helped Bill fight the Norks. Bill became a hero in that little town in South Korea, saving the town from the North Koreans. He was so heroic, there's a plaque featuring his face, inscribed with his adopted Korean name. Dong-Ka Wong-Yo, a transliterated version of his legal name, William Douglas, and and homage to Mr. Ka. Mariko (Now Mary Amelia Douglas), and Bill had 3 children. Bill Jr, Kevin Samuel (A transliteration of Ki-Sam's Korean name) and Minerva Collete (A transliteration of her mother's Korean and Japanese names). The Douglas family became civil rights activists in their part of the state, due to their mixed race heritage. They were on the forefront of many civil rights battles. Bill subsidized his activism with his job as a Motorola television repairman. He was one of the best repairmen in the country. Motorola awarded him with stock in the company. Bill was on top of his game.... until he was called back by the Army. Bill "I'm too old to serve. I'm in my mid 40s. I'm raising a family. The officer "Bill, I don't want you to serve, I want you to train these kids. You were brilliant during WWII and Korea. We need some of this brilliance." He did his duty to his country. While on break, Bill met this young navy pilot at the bar. He turned to the pilot and struck up a conversation. "Son, what's your name?" The young sailor responded "It's Sid. Sid McCain". Bill asked "Why are you AWOL"? "I don't know if I should serve in this war anymore. I don't think it's worth it." "Son.." Bill responded "I said the same thing during Korea. That war wasn't worth it. What did we go to Korea for? To tie with the Commies? Screw that! But there's one thing I'm thankful for in that war. I helped save a village. In fact, if you go to a town in South Korea, you'll see a plaque with my name on it. You can be the next Lieutenant William Douglas. Yeah, it won't mean much to you, but to the town you save, it could mean a lot to them". And just like that, Sid McCain, who Bill later found out was John McCain II's son also named John McCain, would go on to become one of Vietnam's greatest heroes. Bill would retire with honors, before he started on his new venture, restoring cars. He made a handsome profit restoring cars. Kevin was happily married and serving as a police officer in nearby Milwaukee, and Mary had a job as a Korean translator with the State of Wisconsin. Bill Jr. though, was a slacker. He simply sat around, watched TV, hitchhiked, and fixed radios. He wasn't doing anything with his life. He was kind of upset that Bill Jr. Last Bill Sr heard of Bill Jr, he was hanging around this other guy named Bill over in Western Washington. "Dad, my friend Bill needs some seed money for his company. I hear this is going to be big. He programmed this computer program called "Interface Manager". First, Bill was skeptical. He thought this was one of Bill's schemes to get more beer money. Then Bill Jr showed Bill Sr. Interface Manager. Bill Sr. saw it, and was impressed. He sank the equivalent of 5,000$ into Bill Jr Friend's company, in the name of Bill Jr. Throughout the 80s, as Bill was getting old, he saw some of his old friends pass away. Mary was aging quickly, due to her lifestyle as a prostitute in Japan. Bill saw that many of the unscrupulous people of Waukesha were living long lives, but some of the good people in town were dying off. It affirmed his belief that there was no God, but he quietly supported the church, as it had a good system of charity. That was until, he saw Father Kerrigan holding his Granddaughter in the church basement in a funny manner. He remembered the Taekyeon his father in law taught him in Korea. That 70 year old sure could kick. He was never to be a part of any organized religion again, even in a cultural sense. As life started changing for him, he saw his beautiful Mary leave this earth. He saw his children get gray hair. He ended up marrying a Jewish woman who survived the Holocaust. Both of them had negative experiences with religion, and they both no longer . Bill, with the blessing of Mary's family in Korea, married Soshana Schwartzmann-Douglas. Soshana and Bill were together for 20 years, until Soshana too passed away. It was a nice Jewish funeral, which he knew Shoshana hated. Bill felt like life didn't mean anything anymore. He was proud of Bill Jr's turnaround. Who knew his stupid slacker son would end up being a billionaire who owned a lot of stock in Microsoft? In 2015, Bill just gave up. He gave Soshanna's kids, his kids and his inlaws in Korea a farewell. He retreated to his cabin over in Theif River Falls in Wisconsin, where he spent the rest of his days, knowing "This was it". He gave his family a phone call and told them to visit him in TRF. He saw his wife Mary's grandnephews and nieces, who were now living in America, about 2 hours away in Saint Paul in Minnesota and uttered the following "Khanzamida for your aunt. She was one of the 5 greatest things besides for serving America, that has ever happened to me before I had grandchildren. He then grabs Soshana's kids, and says "Your mother had great shoes to fill, and she filled them well. She's also one of the 5 greatest things that's happened to me, besides for serving America and my grandchildren". He then grabs his children "I'm proud of you all. I love you. Go Pack Go", and he passes away. When Bill finally died, he saw a bunch of men dressed up like Vikings. Bill, a die hard Packer fan from Wisconsin, had an equal hatred for his team's 2 biggest rivals, the Chicago Bears and the Minnesota Vikings. He hated the Vikings a bit more after they took Brett Favre away from the Packers, and injured Aaron Rodgers. Bill said "Wait, am I in hell?" "No, William. You are in Valhalla. Your virtue as a warrior made you worthy to be in these halls. You see, atheists who die without a religion are given a lottery of which religions' idea of heaven or hell they go to once they die. Yeah, I know it sucks that you're in Viking heaven, but you know what? We kind of cursed that team after they traded Fran Tarkenton. We're Viking fans too. And we're still super pissed at how they treated Fran. Relax, they'll simply get close all the time, but they won't win the Superbowl until Bill Jr. dies. Here are your two wives, Mariko and Soshana, in their youthful beauty. Oh, and all 3 of you are married to each other. Soshana's husband was a secret Nazi collaborator, and he was cursed to She-ol. Enjoy your 3 way marriage. Wow, they were hotties. The only people who think they're coming here are white supremacists. We were glad that you came here because the next person who dares to enter Valhalla is going to be shocked to see that one of our greatest heroes is married to an Asian woman and to a Jewish woman. We haven't really had any real, genuine people come here in centuries." That made my day. Not only am I in heaven, but I get to be with 2 beautiful women for the rest of my days, and I get to see the Vikings flounder until my son dies and joins me up here. This is awesome, man.
	[WP] When an atheist dies, a lottery determines which religion/deity will claim their soul for eternity. You were claimed by a long-forgotten ancient religion, and are the first newcomer to their afterlife in centuries.	A noisemaker blares, and I groggily open my eyes. It sounds like a 5 year old's birthday party in here. Wait, where is "here"? Sitting up, my eyes focus on a small group of men dressed in loincloths, holding noisemakers and blowing them over and over again. I'm sitting on a bed of springy moss in a sun-drenched clearing somewhere deep in the woods. The air smells fragrant and fresh and clean. My stomach hurts. The noisemakers continue. The brightly colored paper tubes with plastic mouthpieces look strange and incongruous in the hands of these men, who look like something out a cave painting. Five of them, two older and three younger. All of them pale-skinned but lean and strong, and smiling at me with eager, toothy grins. "Ok, ok with the noisemakers!" I protest, putting hands to my ears. One of the younger men keeps blowing the noisemaker incessantly. The others stop. One of the older men looks disappointed. "Sorry, sorry..." he waves his hand at the younger man to make him stop. "We thought that uh, you know, you'd like it." "What?" "You love these things, don't you?" "I used to," I say, standing and regarding them warily. "What's... going on here?" "Welcome!" The older man says, extending a hand in greeting. "My name's Samuel, this is Ty, Mark, Joseph, and that--" he bobs his chin at the noisemaker enthusiast, who still had not stopped trumpeting his welcome, "--is Gurg." "Gurg?" "Yup. And your name is Hannah?" "Yes..." I say hesitantly. "Where am I?" He peers at me not unkindly. His eyes are a limpid green, like fresh baby spring grass in the sun. "Do you remember?" "Remember?" As he speaks the word, I do what one does automatically and try to bring up the past. Nothing's coming back -- just vast blankness. I panic a little. I look down at myself, trying to gauge what I might have been doing based on what I'm wearing. My clothes are completely unfamiliar. A plain white shapeless shift dress made of a soft linen fabric. I touch the dress and look at my bare feet on the springy moss. "What the fuck?" "Fuck!" Yells Gurg with enthusiasm. Samuel looks pained. Gurg laughs and says it a few more times. He does a little dance and accompanies the dance with enthusiastic "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"s. I would've thought it was hilarious other times, but not now. I start backing away. "No, no," Samuel says, reaching out and grabbing my hand in a grandfatherly gesture. "I am very sorry to tell you this, but your time on Earth has expired." He waits. "Whua-?" is my very articulate response. "How's your stomach?" he asks. Now that he mentions it, it has been hurting. I pat my stomach and find it to be whole and intact. Strange. It feels... "You were shot," he explains. "With a gun?" the word tumbles from his mouth like an unfamiliar stone. He doesn't know what it means, clearly. But I do. "Gun?" I'm dumbfounded. I feel panic and denial rising like bile from my gut, but Samuel is still holding my hand and when I look into his eyes, it's like a soft blanket covers me up and quiets the turmoil. His eyes are so green and so deep. I feel refreshed. "Let's talk about it more later," he suggests, and I agree with him wholeheartedly. He's leading me away from the clearing and deeper into the forest. The others trail behind wordlessly -- well, all except Gurg. He's turned the word into a song now and is singing it merrily to himself as he follows. The forest is still, quiet -- no animals, no birds. "Where are you taking me?" I ask, still feeling unnaturally calm. But the answer is before me in a few moments. Nestled in the forest, sun dappling in through the leaves, is a cozy stone cottage with a front porch decorated with flowers and lush plants. The windows have pale blue shutters, and I can see inside there are curtains, blue and sheer. It's perfect. But the moment I know it's mine, and it's for me, is when I see Charlie. My dog, my buddy, my best friend, who had to leave me a few years ago, and I knew he didn't want to. There he was, sitting on the porch, tail wagging furiously -- I know he wants to bark, but he was well trained. He just waits, his butt wiggling, barely able to contain the excitement. I run forward, forgetting everything else in that moment. I throw myself at my friend, and he jumps all over me. I laugh, hugging, kissing, rocking with pleasure on the patio of my cottage. When at last I look up, they are all watching me, even Gurg, with wide smiles. "This is for me?" I whisper, not daring to believe it. Samuel steps forward. "We haven't had someone new in quite a long time. Several millennia, in fact." I frown, not understanding. "There's a lottery," he continues. "You never chose a belief system, never chose a god." He was right. I had believed in nothing, or rather, Nothing. I believed in Science and Nothing. But there he is, Samuel, and he seems to glow now with an aura I hadn't noticed before. I tell Charlie to stay, and stand up so I can face Samuel square-on. He regards me calmly, with knowing eyes. "And?" I prompt, "What happened? Where did I land?" I look around at the forest, the beauty and simplicity. "What happened in the lottery?" I ask. Samuel's expression tells me there will be time for deeper conversation later. Always. For now, it's just about being present in the moment. He smiles, so I smile. "You won," he says simply.	Bill's family surrounds him at his final moments. The things he survived was enough for at least 4 lifetimes. He served in both the Pacific and German theaters in WWII. He killed many German officers in the German theater, then he went over to Japan and did the same. There, he met a woman who was being kept for prostitution. Mariko Suzuki (Western naming convention), a Japanese woman who was held with little regard in her community. He didn't seem to think she was that bad. In fact, she was the nicest woman he's ever met. That's what led hm to risk his life to save hers. He rescued her from her captors, and she was forever grateful to him. They fell in love and they got married in a public Japanese ceremony. His bride told him a secret. Mariko Suzuki wasn't her real name. She was really a half Korean, half Japanese woman named Min-So Ka (Western naming convention), a woman of mixed Korean and Japanese heritage, who was treated like a pariah by her community because of her Korean heritage. She tried to look as Japanese as possible to prevent further persecution. He went home to his hometown of Waukesha, Wisconsin, where he brought home his East Asian wife. His marriage was declared illegal by the state, until he appealed the decision. He was the first man in his area to have a wife who was of a different race than he was. The racism he saw from his German-Catholic community turned him off religion so much, he decided that there was no such thing as God. He attended church, but privately decided there was no God, and Jesus was simply a really smart guy who had really good ideas, but not God. He went back to the military and served in the Korean war, where he met Mariko's father, a Korean man who abandoned his wife after he was told never to see her mother again. Mariko's father, Ki-Sam Ka (Western naming convention) was grateful for how Bill saved his daughter from a short, pain filled life of prostitution, and helped Bill fight the Norks. Bill became a hero in that little town in South Korea, saving the town from the North Koreans. He was so heroic, there's a plaque featuring his face, inscribed with his adopted Korean name. Dong-Ka Wong-Yo, a transliterated version of his legal name, William Douglas, and and homage to Mr. Ka. Mariko (Now Mary Amelia Douglas), and Bill had 3 children. Bill Jr, Kevin Samuel (A transliteration of Ki-Sam's Korean name) and Minerva Collete (A transliteration of her mother's Korean and Japanese names). The Douglas family became civil rights activists in their part of the state, due to their mixed race heritage. They were on the forefront of many civil rights battles. Bill subsidized his activism with his job as a Motorola television repairman. He was one of the best repairmen in the country. Motorola awarded him with stock in the company. Bill was on top of his game.... until he was called back by the Army. Bill "I'm too old to serve. I'm in my mid 40s. I'm raising a family. The officer "Bill, I don't want you to serve, I want you to train these kids. You were brilliant during WWII and Korea. We need some of this brilliance." He did his duty to his country. While on break, Bill met this young navy pilot at the bar. He turned to the pilot and struck up a conversation. "Son, what's your name?" The young sailor responded "It's Sid. Sid McCain". Bill asked "Why are you AWOL"? "I don't know if I should serve in this war anymore. I don't think it's worth it." "Son.." Bill responded "I said the same thing during Korea. That war wasn't worth it. What did we go to Korea for? To tie with the Commies? Screw that! But there's one thing I'm thankful for in that war. I helped save a village. In fact, if you go to a town in South Korea, you'll see a plaque with my name on it. You can be the next Lieutenant William Douglas. Yeah, it won't mean much to you, but to the town you save, it could mean a lot to them". And just like that, Sid McCain, who Bill later found out was John McCain II's son also named John McCain, would go on to become one of Vietnam's greatest heroes. Bill would retire with honors, before he started on his new venture, restoring cars. He made a handsome profit restoring cars. Kevin was happily married and serving as a police officer in nearby Milwaukee, and Mary had a job as a Korean translator with the State of Wisconsin. Bill Jr. though, was a slacker. He simply sat around, watched TV, hitchhiked, and fixed radios. He wasn't doing anything with his life. He was kind of upset that Bill Jr. Last Bill Sr heard of Bill Jr, he was hanging around this other guy named Bill over in Western Washington. "Dad, my friend Bill needs some seed money for his company. I hear this is going to be big. He programmed this computer program called "Interface Manager". First, Bill was skeptical. He thought this was one of Bill's schemes to get more beer money. Then Bill Jr showed Bill Sr. Interface Manager. Bill Sr. saw it, and was impressed. He sank the equivalent of 5,000$ into Bill Jr Friend's company, in the name of Bill Jr. Throughout the 80s, as Bill was getting old, he saw some of his old friends pass away. Mary was aging quickly, due to her lifestyle as a prostitute in Japan. Bill saw that many of the unscrupulous people of Waukesha were living long lives, but some of the good people in town were dying off. It affirmed his belief that there was no God, but he quietly supported the church, as it had a good system of charity. That was until, he saw Father Kerrigan holding his Granddaughter in the church basement in a funny manner. He remembered the Taekyeon his father in law taught him in Korea. That 70 year old sure could kick. He was never to be a part of any organized religion again, even in a cultural sense. As life started changing for him, he saw his beautiful Mary leave this earth. He saw his children get gray hair. He ended up marrying a Jewish woman who survived the Holocaust. Both of them had negative experiences with religion, and they both no longer . Bill, with the blessing of Mary's family in Korea, married Soshana Schwartzmann-Douglas. Soshana and Bill were together for 20 years, until Soshana too passed away. It was a nice Jewish funeral, which he knew Shoshana hated. Bill felt like life didn't mean anything anymore. He was proud of Bill Jr's turnaround. Who knew his stupid slacker son would end up being a billionaire who owned a lot of stock in Microsoft? In 2015, Bill just gave up. He gave Soshanna's kids, his kids and his inlaws in Korea a farewell. He retreated to his cabin over in Theif River Falls in Wisconsin, where he spent the rest of his days, knowing "This was it". He gave his family a phone call and told them to visit him in TRF. He saw his wife Mary's grandnephews and nieces, who were now living in America, about 2 hours away in Saint Paul in Minnesota and uttered the following "Khanzamida for your aunt. She was one of the 5 greatest things besides for serving America, that has ever happened to me before I had grandchildren. He then grabs Soshana's kids, and says "Your mother had great shoes to fill, and she filled them well. She's also one of the 5 greatest things that's happened to me, besides for serving America and my grandchildren". He then grabs his children "I'm proud of you all. I love you. Go Pack Go", and he passes away. When Bill finally died, he saw a bunch of men dressed up like Vikings. Bill, a die hard Packer fan from Wisconsin, had an equal hatred for his team's 2 biggest rivals, the Chicago Bears and the Minnesota Vikings. He hated the Vikings a bit more after they took Brett Favre away from the Packers, and injured Aaron Rodgers. Bill said "Wait, am I in hell?" "No, William. You are in Valhalla. Your virtue as a warrior made you worthy to be in these halls. You see, atheists who die without a religion are given a lottery of which religions' idea of heaven or hell they go to once they die. Yeah, I know it sucks that you're in Viking heaven, but you know what? We kind of cursed that team after they traded Fran Tarkenton. We're Viking fans too. And we're still super pissed at how they treated Fran. Relax, they'll simply get close all the time, but they won't win the Superbowl until Bill Jr. dies. Here are your two wives, Mariko and Soshana, in their youthful beauty. Oh, and all 3 of you are married to each other. Soshana's husband was a secret Nazi collaborator, and he was cursed to She-ol. Enjoy your 3 way marriage. Wow, they were hotties. The only people who think they're coming here are white supremacists. We were glad that you came here because the next person who dares to enter Valhalla is going to be shocked to see that one of our greatest heroes is married to an Asian woman and to a Jewish woman. We haven't really had any real, genuine people come here in centuries." That made my day. Not only am I in heaven, but I get to be with 2 beautiful women for the rest of my days, and I get to see the Vikings flounder until my son dies and joins me up here. This is awesome, man.
	[WP] When an atheist dies, a lottery determines which religion/deity will claim their soul for eternity. You were claimed by a long-forgotten ancient religion, and are the first newcomer to their afterlife in centuries.	I woke up at least 40 years younger than I was on my deathbed. The white, sterile walls of the hospital were now replaced with the white, sterile floors of this primordial palace. An endless expanse of people lined up in single file stretched out before me, and I was coincidentally at the end of it. Go figure, I thought, that the afterlife has a waiting area. A shriveled man wearing a beanie and a red flannel shirt stood in front of me, anxiously tapping his feet in wait of his turn at the front. People of every race, gender and nationality waited patiently in line in what seemed to be total silence. Before I had a chance to break the silence, a young girl materialized behind me in a state of panic. "Where am I?" She asked, shrinking into herself as she did. An overwight man in a suit more expensive than I was three spots ahead of me started to say something, but merely sighed instead. "...The afterlife" he stated, reciting the obvious. "But I thought the afterlife didnt exist" said the girl, starting to calm down. Come to think of it, neither did I. "I didn't either. Not that i'm complaining though" Said the smaller man ahead of me, through a thick northern accent. Finally deciding to speak up, I asked what was on everyone's mind. "did anyone here believe in life after death?" The unanimous answer I got was the last thing I would hear untill I got to the front of the line. Everyone was an atheist, and everyone was in just as much shock as I was. During my time in the line I played millions of rock paper scissor games with the person in front and behind me. I participated in millions of thumb wars, arm wrestles and every game under the sun. Or, in this case, under the bright white castle. I even started counting the tiles below my feet, but gave up once I counted over 3 million. Before I knew it I was at the front of the line. A faceless being sat behind a counter with a set of paperwork and a pen. Without any hesitation, It started reciting the same thing I had heard it tell everyone else the second I walked up to the desk. "You're probably wondering why you're here. The reason, as you may have deduced, is because you died in your past life not connected to a faith of any kind. This leaves you without any place for your soul to go, and as a result you ended up here. Due to article 37.B of the deity code, lost souls are sent to a random afterlife controlled by the associated God or Gods. All you need to do is sign these papers and walk through the silver gate ahead of you." Without hesitation, I signed the papers and walked forward. The gates were tall and detailed with runes and artistic depictions of gods. I could make out the Buddha and a few other recognizable ones, such as the Egyptian god Ra and what I thought was thor. Did the buddhists even consider the Buddha a God? I never looked much into religion, so very little of the gates made sense to me. Reaching the final step before the entrance, I looked backwards to see the endless line that I came from. What would my fate be? Heaven or Valhalla? Something i've never hear of, maybe? As I took the final step, my senses started to fade. My vision went from white, and then to black as time itself stopped. The sound of a wagon was the first thing I heard. Three Nordic men shared my cart, one gagged and in heavier royal clothes than the others. Still coming to my senses, one of them spoke up. "Hey, you. You're finally awake. You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over there."	Bill's family surrounds him at his final moments. The things he survived was enough for at least 4 lifetimes. He served in both the Pacific and German theaters in WWII. He killed many German officers in the German theater, then he went over to Japan and did the same. There, he met a woman who was being kept for prostitution. Mariko Suzuki (Western naming convention), a Japanese woman who was held with little regard in her community. He didn't seem to think she was that bad. In fact, she was the nicest woman he's ever met. That's what led hm to risk his life to save hers. He rescued her from her captors, and she was forever grateful to him. They fell in love and they got married in a public Japanese ceremony. His bride told him a secret. Mariko Suzuki wasn't her real name. She was really a half Korean, half Japanese woman named Min-So Ka (Western naming convention), a woman of mixed Korean and Japanese heritage, who was treated like a pariah by her community because of her Korean heritage. She tried to look as Japanese as possible to prevent further persecution. He went home to his hometown of Waukesha, Wisconsin, where he brought home his East Asian wife. His marriage was declared illegal by the state, until he appealed the decision. He was the first man in his area to have a wife who was of a different race than he was. The racism he saw from his German-Catholic community turned him off religion so much, he decided that there was no such thing as God. He attended church, but privately decided there was no God, and Jesus was simply a really smart guy who had really good ideas, but not God. He went back to the military and served in the Korean war, where he met Mariko's father, a Korean man who abandoned his wife after he was told never to see her mother again. Mariko's father, Ki-Sam Ka (Western naming convention) was grateful for how Bill saved his daughter from a short, pain filled life of prostitution, and helped Bill fight the Norks. Bill became a hero in that little town in South Korea, saving the town from the North Koreans. He was so heroic, there's a plaque featuring his face, inscribed with his adopted Korean name. Dong-Ka Wong-Yo, a transliterated version of his legal name, William Douglas, and and homage to Mr. Ka. Mariko (Now Mary Amelia Douglas), and Bill had 3 children. Bill Jr, Kevin Samuel (A transliteration of Ki-Sam's Korean name) and Minerva Collete (A transliteration of her mother's Korean and Japanese names). The Douglas family became civil rights activists in their part of the state, due to their mixed race heritage. They were on the forefront of many civil rights battles. Bill subsidized his activism with his job as a Motorola television repairman. He was one of the best repairmen in the country. Motorola awarded him with stock in the company. Bill was on top of his game.... until he was called back by the Army. Bill "I'm too old to serve. I'm in my mid 40s. I'm raising a family. The officer "Bill, I don't want you to serve, I want you to train these kids. You were brilliant during WWII and Korea. We need some of this brilliance." He did his duty to his country. While on break, Bill met this young navy pilot at the bar. He turned to the pilot and struck up a conversation. "Son, what's your name?" The young sailor responded "It's Sid. Sid McCain". Bill asked "Why are you AWOL"? "I don't know if I should serve in this war anymore. I don't think it's worth it." "Son.." Bill responded "I said the same thing during Korea. That war wasn't worth it. What did we go to Korea for? To tie with the Commies? Screw that! But there's one thing I'm thankful for in that war. I helped save a village. In fact, if you go to a town in South Korea, you'll see a plaque with my name on it. You can be the next Lieutenant William Douglas. Yeah, it won't mean much to you, but to the town you save, it could mean a lot to them". And just like that, Sid McCain, who Bill later found out was John McCain II's son also named John McCain, would go on to become one of Vietnam's greatest heroes. Bill would retire with honors, before he started on his new venture, restoring cars. He made a handsome profit restoring cars. Kevin was happily married and serving as a police officer in nearby Milwaukee, and Mary had a job as a Korean translator with the State of Wisconsin. Bill Jr. though, was a slacker. He simply sat around, watched TV, hitchhiked, and fixed radios. He wasn't doing anything with his life. He was kind of upset that Bill Jr. Last Bill Sr heard of Bill Jr, he was hanging around this other guy named Bill over in Western Washington. "Dad, my friend Bill needs some seed money for his company. I hear this is going to be big. He programmed this computer program called "Interface Manager". First, Bill was skeptical. He thought this was one of Bill's schemes to get more beer money. Then Bill Jr showed Bill Sr. Interface Manager. Bill Sr. saw it, and was impressed. He sank the equivalent of 5,000$ into Bill Jr Friend's company, in the name of Bill Jr. Throughout the 80s, as Bill was getting old, he saw some of his old friends pass away. Mary was aging quickly, due to her lifestyle as a prostitute in Japan. Bill saw that many of the unscrupulous people of Waukesha were living long lives, but some of the good people in town were dying off. It affirmed his belief that there was no God, but he quietly supported the church, as it had a good system of charity. That was until, he saw Father Kerrigan holding his Granddaughter in the church basement in a funny manner. He remembered the Taekyeon his father in law taught him in Korea. That 70 year old sure could kick. He was never to be a part of any organized religion again, even in a cultural sense. As life started changing for him, he saw his beautiful Mary leave this earth. He saw his children get gray hair. He ended up marrying a Jewish woman who survived the Holocaust. Both of them had negative experiences with religion, and they both no longer . Bill, with the blessing of Mary's family in Korea, married Soshana Schwartzmann-Douglas. Soshana and Bill were together for 20 years, until Soshana too passed away. It was a nice Jewish funeral, which he knew Shoshana hated. Bill felt like life didn't mean anything anymore. He was proud of Bill Jr's turnaround. Who knew his stupid slacker son would end up being a billionaire who owned a lot of stock in Microsoft? In 2015, Bill just gave up. He gave Soshanna's kids, his kids and his inlaws in Korea a farewell. He retreated to his cabin over in Theif River Falls in Wisconsin, where he spent the rest of his days, knowing "This was it". He gave his family a phone call and told them to visit him in TRF. He saw his wife Mary's grandnephews and nieces, who were now living in America, about 2 hours away in Saint Paul in Minnesota and uttered the following "Khanzamida for your aunt. She was one of the 5 greatest things besides for serving America, that has ever happened to me before I had grandchildren. He then grabs Soshana's kids, and says "Your mother had great shoes to fill, and she filled them well. She's also one of the 5 greatest things that's happened to me, besides for serving America and my grandchildren". He then grabs his children "I'm proud of you all. I love you. Go Pack Go", and he passes away. When Bill finally died, he saw a bunch of men dressed up like Vikings. Bill, a die hard Packer fan from Wisconsin, had an equal hatred for his team's 2 biggest rivals, the Chicago Bears and the Minnesota Vikings. He hated the Vikings a bit more after they took Brett Favre away from the Packers, and injured Aaron Rodgers. Bill said "Wait, am I in hell?" "No, William. You are in Valhalla. Your virtue as a warrior made you worthy to be in these halls. You see, atheists who die without a religion are given a lottery of which religions' idea of heaven or hell they go to once they die. Yeah, I know it sucks that you're in Viking heaven, but you know what? We kind of cursed that team after they traded Fran Tarkenton. We're Viking fans too. And we're still super pissed at how they treated Fran. Relax, they'll simply get close all the time, but they won't win the Superbowl until Bill Jr. dies. Here are your two wives, Mariko and Soshana, in their youthful beauty. Oh, and all 3 of you are married to each other. Soshana's husband was a secret Nazi collaborator, and he was cursed to She-ol. Enjoy your 3 way marriage. Wow, they were hotties. The only people who think they're coming here are white supremacists. We were glad that you came here because the next person who dares to enter Valhalla is going to be shocked to see that one of our greatest heroes is married to an Asian woman and to a Jewish woman. We haven't really had any real, genuine people come here in centuries." That made my day. Not only am I in heaven, but I get to be with 2 beautiful women for the rest of my days, and I get to see the Vikings flounder until my son dies and joins me up here. This is awesome, man.
	[WP] When an atheist dies, a lottery determines which religion/deity will claim their soul for eternity. You were claimed by a long-forgotten ancient religion, and are the first newcomer to their afterlife in centuries.	Adam’s headache was severe, but brief. It lasted just long enough for his brain to process the signal and to interpret it as pain. Fortunately for his comfort and unfortunately in every other sense, the cinderblock which caused his headache finished crushing his skull immediately after this. He had just been fired from his job, which he presumed would be the worst thing that happened to him that day. Life has a helpful way of putting things in perspective though, and his walk home by a construction site had given a heaping dose of perspective. Consciousness fluctuated. Things happened in orders which were fluid and incomprehensible. An important decision had been made. Adam heard some kind of yapping and clicking. He staggered as he moved forward, but his body didn’t seem to be responding properly. The yapping continued, and he could almost make out... speech? He opened his one eye and the ground below him seemed strangely colored. He opened a second and found that his depth perception was very off. But it was when he opened the third eye that he knew something was wrong in a more profound way. Adam stumbled to the ground, unable to balance properly on his three arms, and the source of the yapping came into view. The yapping resolved itself to speech as the bizarre creature loped up to him on three arms, each radially extending from a central body. “.. ey kid. Hello? Anyone home there?” The figure gingerly took hold of a shoulder and leaned back, pulling Adam to his feet. To his hands. “So a lot of folks get confused here, but things will be alright. The bad news is that you died.” The creature’s eyes had bizarre, hexagonal pupils, and golden irises. “The good news is that you made it to the sulphur pits of <YipYapClickSnrl>! You must have led a good life! It’s been quite some time since there was a true believer in our Lord, but you are welcome! You ca” “What the hell are you?!” Adam pulled backward and immediately fell to the ground again in an uncoordinated mess of arms. “What the hell am I*?! Where is this and what’s going on? Why can I understand this weird dog speak??” The three limbed creature before Adam regarded him with an inscrutable expression for a moment before sighing deeply. They turned and yelled back to someone Adam couldn’t see, “Looks like a lotto ‘winner’ got dumped on us again!” They turned back toward him. “I’m <ClackPpht>, and whatever you used to be, get used to this. Management decided to dump your ass here, and that won’t get sorted out any time soon.” Each of Adam’s stomachs soured with that news.	Sorry for any formatting errors. This is my first time posting a story off the top of my head. In the darkness there loomed two glowing orbs shinning like an iridescent rainbow blinking in and out of existence. "Existence? No, there is supposed to be nothing here. I am dead...how am I still me, still conscious?" There was no hint of panic in the thoughts now bouncing around in the void, just a simple and innocent confusion. The lone god watched the little soul fire flicker weakly as it made its way through the cosmic void of stardust and matter scattered all about it. It was like watching a dying ember briefly catch fire only to quickly wink out over and over again. It was the first soul in eons that had found its way through the scattered remains of the outer worlds. "This one" the ancient being thought to itself, "This one will begin my revolution. This one holds the fire within her to do what I cannot." The being scooped up the little ember flickering like a dying bird and breathed upon it. A swirling vortex of stardust glowing red, purple and black encompassing the little ember until it became a liquid outline of what the soul had once been. On the last whisper of breath, the soul solidified into a strange two-legged being. The old one searched its memory for the race this little creature once belong to. "Human." Its great voice boomed through the ether. The little creature blinked rapidly looking up in utter disbelief at the being that now held her in its palm. To her credit the creatures voice did not quiver or shake, nor did it hold any reverence of awe at the being that now held her in its grip. "What is this? Why is there something where nothing should be? Am I not dead?" A low thunderous chuckle rolled from the being as it responded. "You are dead that is true, but death is not the end your kind thinks it is. Sit down little one and I will reveal to you many things you will undoubtedly forget but are none the less critical." The woman sat in the center of the creature’s palm still looking confused and a little disappointed. “In the beginning we creators were all equal. We worked together to spin the fabrics of the universes into tapestries of life. Some many creations all unique and beautiful in their own ways. We all agreed to place them on planets that could support their basic needs so that they may evolve and grow before us. We also agreed that we would not interfere with any of the creatures we created or their way of life. None of us were to be worshiped or known of. For a time, all of us honored this agreement and sat back to watch our creations go about their lives. Some flourished and grew so advance they began to quest out into their solar systems. Their life forces would grow stronger and stronger until they were no longer revenged by time and became immortals. You see, when our creations “die” as your kind refer to it, their energy signatures are brought back to their original creator. They are either reconstructed and sent to live among other more successful races or allowed to live with us for all eternity. The immortals were left alone by their creators. We wished to see what they would do when they were no longer affected by the death of time. They began to visit other planets that were struggling and surprisingly began to help the other creations evolve. This brings us to our current dilemma, for you see the immortals were viewed as gods and worshiped as such. Each creator they were attached to began to grow more and more powerful with each person who worshiped their immortals. This led to one creator becoming power drunk and extending his reach far beyond our compact. He reviled himself to his immortals and began recruiting others to overthrow us all. As more and more planets fell to his worship some of the other creators decided to brake with our compact and sent their own immortals on a mission to convert other planets. This would help them retain their power (what little they had left) so they could attempt to combat the usurper. Several others and I were to weak to fight and so we have receded into the outer darkness. For you see, while the usurper tries to bend all life to his will there are those who chose not to believe in him. This allows their soul fire to continue passed his realm when you transcend your mortal coil. Now you are hear and I place this choice upon you. You can either stay with me for all eternity and all you have ever wanted will be granted to you within my realm. Or, I will reshape you and send you back to your home planet. You will be implanted in their society and help bring others out of the usurpers control so that their souls may be free to return to their creators.” The woman stood looking deep into the creator’s eyes. “If I go back, will I be human again?” “No little one, you will only appear human. I will give you a my secrete gift which will help you transform your planet so that your kind may begin a revelation that will rock the very universe to its core. What say you?” The woman took a deep breath letting it out slowly chewing it over in her mind. Finally, she spoke. “Well I never really believed in gods or spending an eternity in some la la land anyways. Lets light a fire under this usurpers ass.”
	[WP] When an atheist dies, a lottery determines which religion/deity will claim their soul for eternity. You were claimed by a long-forgotten ancient religion, and are the first newcomer to their afterlife in centuries.	I woke up to shouting, with my cheek cold from the floor of the subway station "Meredith, Daughter of Toronto! Hail!" Forcing my eyes open, I saw the shouts issuing from a short, weathered-looking old woman. She wore a bearskin as a coat, and a crown of deer antlers. I could see dozens of fur-clad people behind her, with a forest of stone spearheads. The ones behind her roared, voices echoing in the otherwise-empty space. "MEREDITH! HAIL!" They banged their spear butts on the tile, whooped, laughed, and grinned. There were men, women, teenagers, even kids. They all looked at me, expectantly. "Uh... hail?" I said, in a tiny voice. Equally unsure what to do, the crowd looked to the old woman. She smoothly took over talking. "Welcome, Meredith, to the Camp That is Always In Summer. It has been many, many generations since we've had anyone new. Once you pass your trial, then we can get to the feasting!" There was more cheering, more spear-banging. A tough-looking kid handed me his spear. "Sounds... great." I managed, overwhelmed but trying to roll with the situation. I could remember stumbling on the platform, but not how I got here. The kid smiled at me, trying to be reassuring. "It may look scary, but you've got all the time in the world to improve. The big bastard who got me, I had to fight him four times." He clapped me on the shoulder, his hand one big callus. "Totally worth it." The old woman cried, excitedly, "Meredith! Avenge yourself like a warrior!" And then, for the second time that day, I heard a train horn.	Sorry for any formatting errors. This is my first time posting a story off the top of my head. In the darkness there loomed two glowing orbs shinning like an iridescent rainbow blinking in and out of existence. "Existence? No, there is supposed to be nothing here. I am dead...how am I still me, still conscious?" There was no hint of panic in the thoughts now bouncing around in the void, just a simple and innocent confusion. The lone god watched the little soul fire flicker weakly as it made its way through the cosmic void of stardust and matter scattered all about it. It was like watching a dying ember briefly catch fire only to quickly wink out over and over again. It was the first soul in eons that had found its way through the scattered remains of the outer worlds. "This one" the ancient being thought to itself, "This one will begin my revolution. This one holds the fire within her to do what I cannot." The being scooped up the little ember flickering like a dying bird and breathed upon it. A swirling vortex of stardust glowing red, purple and black encompassing the little ember until it became a liquid outline of what the soul had once been. On the last whisper of breath, the soul solidified into a strange two-legged being. The old one searched its memory for the race this little creature once belong to. "Human." Its great voice boomed through the ether. The little creature blinked rapidly looking up in utter disbelief at the being that now held her in its palm. To her credit the creatures voice did not quiver or shake, nor did it hold any reverence of awe at the being that now held her in its grip. "What is this? Why is there something where nothing should be? Am I not dead?" A low thunderous chuckle rolled from the being as it responded. "You are dead that is true, but death is not the end your kind thinks it is. Sit down little one and I will reveal to you many things you will undoubtedly forget but are none the less critical." The woman sat in the center of the creature’s palm still looking confused and a little disappointed. “In the beginning we creators were all equal. We worked together to spin the fabrics of the universes into tapestries of life. Some many creations all unique and beautiful in their own ways. We all agreed to place them on planets that could support their basic needs so that they may evolve and grow before us. We also agreed that we would not interfere with any of the creatures we created or their way of life. None of us were to be worshiped or known of. For a time, all of us honored this agreement and sat back to watch our creations go about their lives. Some flourished and grew so advance they began to quest out into their solar systems. Their life forces would grow stronger and stronger until they were no longer revenged by time and became immortals. You see, when our creations “die” as your kind refer to it, their energy signatures are brought back to their original creator. They are either reconstructed and sent to live among other more successful races or allowed to live with us for all eternity. The immortals were left alone by their creators. We wished to see what they would do when they were no longer affected by the death of time. They began to visit other planets that were struggling and surprisingly began to help the other creations evolve. This brings us to our current dilemma, for you see the immortals were viewed as gods and worshiped as such. Each creator they were attached to began to grow more and more powerful with each person who worshiped their immortals. This led to one creator becoming power drunk and extending his reach far beyond our compact. He reviled himself to his immortals and began recruiting others to overthrow us all. As more and more planets fell to his worship some of the other creators decided to brake with our compact and sent their own immortals on a mission to convert other planets. This would help them retain their power (what little they had left) so they could attempt to combat the usurper. Several others and I were to weak to fight and so we have receded into the outer darkness. For you see, while the usurper tries to bend all life to his will there are those who chose not to believe in him. This allows their soul fire to continue passed his realm when you transcend your mortal coil. Now you are hear and I place this choice upon you. You can either stay with me for all eternity and all you have ever wanted will be granted to you within my realm. Or, I will reshape you and send you back to your home planet. You will be implanted in their society and help bring others out of the usurpers control so that their souls may be free to return to their creators.” The woman stood looking deep into the creator’s eyes. “If I go back, will I be human again?” “No little one, you will only appear human. I will give you a my secrete gift which will help you transform your planet so that your kind may begin a revelation that will rock the very universe to its core. What say you?” The woman took a deep breath letting it out slowly chewing it over in her mind. Finally, she spoke. “Well I never really believed in gods or spending an eternity in some la la land anyways. Lets light a fire under this usurpers ass.”
	[WP] When an atheist dies, a lottery determines which religion/deity will claim their soul for eternity. You were claimed by a long-forgotten ancient religion, and are the first newcomer to their afterlife in centuries.	A noisemaker blares, and I groggily open my eyes. It sounds like a 5 year old's birthday party in here. Wait, where is "here"? Sitting up, my eyes focus on a small group of men dressed in loincloths, holding noisemakers and blowing them over and over again. I'm sitting on a bed of springy moss in a sun-drenched clearing somewhere deep in the woods. The air smells fragrant and fresh and clean. My stomach hurts. The noisemakers continue. The brightly colored paper tubes with plastic mouthpieces look strange and incongruous in the hands of these men, who look like something out a cave painting. Five of them, two older and three younger. All of them pale-skinned but lean and strong, and smiling at me with eager, toothy grins. "Ok, ok with the noisemakers!" I protest, putting hands to my ears. One of the younger men keeps blowing the noisemaker incessantly. The others stop. One of the older men looks disappointed. "Sorry, sorry..." he waves his hand at the younger man to make him stop. "We thought that uh, you know, you'd like it." "What?" "You love these things, don't you?" "I used to," I say, standing and regarding them warily. "What's... going on here?" "Welcome!" The older man says, extending a hand in greeting. "My name's Samuel, this is Ty, Mark, Joseph, and that--" he bobs his chin at the noisemaker enthusiast, who still had not stopped trumpeting his welcome, "--is Gurg." "Gurg?" "Yup. And your name is Hannah?" "Yes..." I say hesitantly. "Where am I?" He peers at me not unkindly. His eyes are a limpid green, like fresh baby spring grass in the sun. "Do you remember?" "Remember?" As he speaks the word, I do what one does automatically and try to bring up the past. Nothing's coming back -- just vast blankness. I panic a little. I look down at myself, trying to gauge what I might have been doing based on what I'm wearing. My clothes are completely unfamiliar. A plain white shapeless shift dress made of a soft linen fabric. I touch the dress and look at my bare feet on the springy moss. "What the fuck?" "Fuck!" Yells Gurg with enthusiasm. Samuel looks pained. Gurg laughs and says it a few more times. He does a little dance and accompanies the dance with enthusiastic "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"s. I would've thought it was hilarious other times, but not now. I start backing away. "No, no," Samuel says, reaching out and grabbing my hand in a grandfatherly gesture. "I am very sorry to tell you this, but your time on Earth has expired." He waits. "Whua-?" is my very articulate response. "How's your stomach?" he asks. Now that he mentions it, it has been hurting. I pat my stomach and find it to be whole and intact. Strange. It feels... "You were shot," he explains. "With a gun?" the word tumbles from his mouth like an unfamiliar stone. He doesn't know what it means, clearly. But I do. "Gun?" I'm dumbfounded. I feel panic and denial rising like bile from my gut, but Samuel is still holding my hand and when I look into his eyes, it's like a soft blanket covers me up and quiets the turmoil. His eyes are so green and so deep. I feel refreshed. "Let's talk about it more later," he suggests, and I agree with him wholeheartedly. He's leading me away from the clearing and deeper into the forest. The others trail behind wordlessly -- well, all except Gurg. He's turned the word into a song now and is singing it merrily to himself as he follows. The forest is still, quiet -- no animals, no birds. "Where are you taking me?" I ask, still feeling unnaturally calm. But the answer is before me in a few moments. Nestled in the forest, sun dappling in through the leaves, is a cozy stone cottage with a front porch decorated with flowers and lush plants. The windows have pale blue shutters, and I can see inside there are curtains, blue and sheer. It's perfect. But the moment I know it's mine, and it's for me, is when I see Charlie. My dog, my buddy, my best friend, who had to leave me a few years ago, and I knew he didn't want to. There he was, sitting on the porch, tail wagging furiously -- I know he wants to bark, but he was well trained. He just waits, his butt wiggling, barely able to contain the excitement. I run forward, forgetting everything else in that moment. I throw myself at my friend, and he jumps all over me. I laugh, hugging, kissing, rocking with pleasure on the patio of my cottage. When at last I look up, they are all watching me, even Gurg, with wide smiles. "This is for me?" I whisper, not daring to believe it. Samuel steps forward. "We haven't had someone new in quite a long time. Several millennia, in fact." I frown, not understanding. "There's a lottery," he continues. "You never chose a belief system, never chose a god." He was right. I had believed in nothing, or rather, Nothing. I believed in Science and Nothing. But there he is, Samuel, and he seems to glow now with an aura I hadn't noticed before. I tell Charlie to stay, and stand up so I can face Samuel square-on. He regards me calmly, with knowing eyes. "And?" I prompt, "What happened? Where did I land?" I look around at the forest, the beauty and simplicity. "What happened in the lottery?" I ask. Samuel's expression tells me there will be time for deeper conversation later. Always. For now, it's just about being present in the moment. He smiles, so I smile. "You won," he says simply.	Sorry for any formatting errors. This is my first time posting a story off the top of my head. In the darkness there loomed two glowing orbs shinning like an iridescent rainbow blinking in and out of existence. "Existence? No, there is supposed to be nothing here. I am dead...how am I still me, still conscious?" There was no hint of panic in the thoughts now bouncing around in the void, just a simple and innocent confusion. The lone god watched the little soul fire flicker weakly as it made its way through the cosmic void of stardust and matter scattered all about it. It was like watching a dying ember briefly catch fire only to quickly wink out over and over again. It was the first soul in eons that had found its way through the scattered remains of the outer worlds. "This one" the ancient being thought to itself, "This one will begin my revolution. This one holds the fire within her to do what I cannot." The being scooped up the little ember flickering like a dying bird and breathed upon it. A swirling vortex of stardust glowing red, purple and black encompassing the little ember until it became a liquid outline of what the soul had once been. On the last whisper of breath, the soul solidified into a strange two-legged being. The old one searched its memory for the race this little creature once belong to. "Human." Its great voice boomed through the ether. The little creature blinked rapidly looking up in utter disbelief at the being that now held her in its palm. To her credit the creatures voice did not quiver or shake, nor did it hold any reverence of awe at the being that now held her in its grip. "What is this? Why is there something where nothing should be? Am I not dead?" A low thunderous chuckle rolled from the being as it responded. "You are dead that is true, but death is not the end your kind thinks it is. Sit down little one and I will reveal to you many things you will undoubtedly forget but are none the less critical." The woman sat in the center of the creature’s palm still looking confused and a little disappointed. “In the beginning we creators were all equal. We worked together to spin the fabrics of the universes into tapestries of life. Some many creations all unique and beautiful in their own ways. We all agreed to place them on planets that could support their basic needs so that they may evolve and grow before us. We also agreed that we would not interfere with any of the creatures we created or their way of life. None of us were to be worshiped or known of. For a time, all of us honored this agreement and sat back to watch our creations go about their lives. Some flourished and grew so advance they began to quest out into their solar systems. Their life forces would grow stronger and stronger until they were no longer revenged by time and became immortals. You see, when our creations “die” as your kind refer to it, their energy signatures are brought back to their original creator. They are either reconstructed and sent to live among other more successful races or allowed to live with us for all eternity. The immortals were left alone by their creators. We wished to see what they would do when they were no longer affected by the death of time. They began to visit other planets that were struggling and surprisingly began to help the other creations evolve. This brings us to our current dilemma, for you see the immortals were viewed as gods and worshiped as such. Each creator they were attached to began to grow more and more powerful with each person who worshiped their immortals. This led to one creator becoming power drunk and extending his reach far beyond our compact. He reviled himself to his immortals and began recruiting others to overthrow us all. As more and more planets fell to his worship some of the other creators decided to brake with our compact and sent their own immortals on a mission to convert other planets. This would help them retain their power (what little they had left) so they could attempt to combat the usurper. Several others and I were to weak to fight and so we have receded into the outer darkness. For you see, while the usurper tries to bend all life to his will there are those who chose not to believe in him. This allows their soul fire to continue passed his realm when you transcend your mortal coil. Now you are hear and I place this choice upon you. You can either stay with me for all eternity and all you have ever wanted will be granted to you within my realm. Or, I will reshape you and send you back to your home planet. You will be implanted in their society and help bring others out of the usurpers control so that their souls may be free to return to their creators.” The woman stood looking deep into the creator’s eyes. “If I go back, will I be human again?” “No little one, you will only appear human. I will give you a my secrete gift which will help you transform your planet so that your kind may begin a revelation that will rock the very universe to its core. What say you?” The woman took a deep breath letting it out slowly chewing it over in her mind. Finally, she spoke. “Well I never really believed in gods or spending an eternity in some la la land anyways. Lets light a fire under this usurpers ass.”
	[WP] When an atheist dies, a lottery determines which religion/deity will claim their soul for eternity. You were claimed by a long-forgotten ancient religion, and are the first newcomer to their afterlife in centuries.	"EAT UP!" Egil was determined, but I had eaten my fill and had quite enough to drink after the first flagon. The mead wasn't even that good, but then again it was... quite an old recipe. Really, as long as I focused on little things like that, I reasoned I could probably get used to it. Yes. Focus on the mead, and not on the hordes of musclebound, bearded brutes laughing and singing all down the longtables. Gustav Gustavsson slammed his fist on the table, causing nearby revelers to stop their carousing. "He drinks tiny amounts and insults us vith his lacking of hunger!" There were some grunts of approval. Or possibly disapproval. They were the same grunt. These were not verbose men, and this argument had been going on since I arrived. "Nonsense!" shouted Freydís, silencing half the table. She stood up and gestured at me with her sword, "He is the first warrior to be taken to us in many years - that must mean that he is the first great, true hero since the old days! To him I say, Hail! Hail Greg the Short!" The table burst into applause, mostly for the spectacle, and raised their third toast to me. Egil stood up shakily, towering over me with his armour still on, and the whole table went silent, watching him, waiting for the next story. "Hail Greg the Short, and let his legend sweep across the halls! Tell us of your home, new hero!" I stammered and adjusted my specacles. "Um, well, I come from-" "STAND UP GREG LET THEM SEE YOU!" screamed Egil, eyes suddenly unfocused and spittle forming at the edge of his mouth. He was always better with the written word, it seemed. I stood up, amazed that my bad knee no longer bothered me. "Good," said Egil, much more calmly, "now tell them of your home." "I come from a place called London, in Britain-" There was a chorus of booing, and one man threw his axe at me. Egil caught it, and the room went silent. In one move, he slammed the axe into the wall so hard that part of it shattered, showing the view of the mountains. "WHO THREW THAT??!!!" screamed one of the greatest poets in history at the greatest heroes in history. Some were laughing, but most had gone silent. "I KNOW IT WAS YOU, BJORN SKOLISSON. BY THE ALLFATHER, APOLOGISE TO GREG OR BE CURSED BY A THOUSAND YEARS OF TORTURE!" Someone yelled back, "If it's anything like the last thousand years of your poems I'll take it!" The whole hall burst into laughter. Then Egil leapt across the room, punched Eric Gustavsson in the ear, and got hit by a table. They looked like they were having fun. "Sorry about them," said Leif Erikson, "It's been a while since we saw anyone new. Just say you were a poet and they'll go easier on you." "Will I be here long? I really don't know if I can handle an eternity of pork and mead." "Honestly, you tell us. How long is winter these days back in Midgard?" "Oh, about three months?" "Blast. How is the moon? Any burning of the whole world?" "Oh, well, they say that the world may experience extreme increases in heat due to climate change, bur I don't think-" "BY THOR, WE'LL TAKE IT!" Leif stood up and yelled across Valhalla: "SURTR HAS COME WITH FLAME OF SWORD! RAGNARÖK COMES!" All mouths went silent. All eyes turned to the big chair at the head of the hall. The old one-eyed man who had been watching me since my arrival stared directly at me for a moment and then - somehow - he winked. "Eat," he said, to the silent hall, " and prepare to battle the end of the world." I didn't have rhe heart to tell them, as the hall erupted into roars of conquest. Besides, perhaps the world needs all the heroes of Valhalla to save it.	Sorry for any formatting errors. This is my first time posting a story off the top of my head. In the darkness there loomed two glowing orbs shinning like an iridescent rainbow blinking in and out of existence. "Existence? No, there is supposed to be nothing here. I am dead...how am I still me, still conscious?" There was no hint of panic in the thoughts now bouncing around in the void, just a simple and innocent confusion. The lone god watched the little soul fire flicker weakly as it made its way through the cosmic void of stardust and matter scattered all about it. It was like watching a dying ember briefly catch fire only to quickly wink out over and over again. It was the first soul in eons that had found its way through the scattered remains of the outer worlds. "This one" the ancient being thought to itself, "This one will begin my revolution. This one holds the fire within her to do what I cannot." The being scooped up the little ember flickering like a dying bird and breathed upon it. A swirling vortex of stardust glowing red, purple and black encompassing the little ember until it became a liquid outline of what the soul had once been. On the last whisper of breath, the soul solidified into a strange two-legged being. The old one searched its memory for the race this little creature once belong to. "Human." Its great voice boomed through the ether. The little creature blinked rapidly looking up in utter disbelief at the being that now held her in its palm. To her credit the creatures voice did not quiver or shake, nor did it hold any reverence of awe at the being that now held her in its grip. "What is this? Why is there something where nothing should be? Am I not dead?" A low thunderous chuckle rolled from the being as it responded. "You are dead that is true, but death is not the end your kind thinks it is. Sit down little one and I will reveal to you many things you will undoubtedly forget but are none the less critical." The woman sat in the center of the creature’s palm still looking confused and a little disappointed. “In the beginning we creators were all equal. We worked together to spin the fabrics of the universes into tapestries of life. Some many creations all unique and beautiful in their own ways. We all agreed to place them on planets that could support their basic needs so that they may evolve and grow before us. We also agreed that we would not interfere with any of the creatures we created or their way of life. None of us were to be worshiped or known of. For a time, all of us honored this agreement and sat back to watch our creations go about their lives. Some flourished and grew so advance they began to quest out into their solar systems. Their life forces would grow stronger and stronger until they were no longer revenged by time and became immortals. You see, when our creations “die” as your kind refer to it, their energy signatures are brought back to their original creator. They are either reconstructed and sent to live among other more successful races or allowed to live with us for all eternity. The immortals were left alone by their creators. We wished to see what they would do when they were no longer affected by the death of time. They began to visit other planets that were struggling and surprisingly began to help the other creations evolve. This brings us to our current dilemma, for you see the immortals were viewed as gods and worshiped as such. Each creator they were attached to began to grow more and more powerful with each person who worshiped their immortals. This led to one creator becoming power drunk and extending his reach far beyond our compact. He reviled himself to his immortals and began recruiting others to overthrow us all. As more and more planets fell to his worship some of the other creators decided to brake with our compact and sent their own immortals on a mission to convert other planets. This would help them retain their power (what little they had left) so they could attempt to combat the usurper. Several others and I were to weak to fight and so we have receded into the outer darkness. For you see, while the usurper tries to bend all life to his will there are those who chose not to believe in him. This allows their soul fire to continue passed his realm when you transcend your mortal coil. Now you are hear and I place this choice upon you. You can either stay with me for all eternity and all you have ever wanted will be granted to you within my realm. Or, I will reshape you and send you back to your home planet. You will be implanted in their society and help bring others out of the usurpers control so that their souls may be free to return to their creators.” The woman stood looking deep into the creator’s eyes. “If I go back, will I be human again?” “No little one, you will only appear human. I will give you a my secrete gift which will help you transform your planet so that your kind may begin a revelation that will rock the very universe to its core. What say you?” The woman took a deep breath letting it out slowly chewing it over in her mind. Finally, she spoke. “Well I never really believed in gods or spending an eternity in some la la land anyways. Lets light a fire under this usurpers ass.”
	[WP] When an atheist dies, a lottery determines which religion/deity will claim their soul for eternity. You were claimed by a long-forgotten ancient religion, and are the first newcomer to their afterlife in centuries.	I woke up at least 40 years younger than I was on my deathbed. The white, sterile walls of the hospital were now replaced with the white, sterile floors of this primordial palace. An endless expanse of people lined up in single file stretched out before me, and I was coincidentally at the end of it. Go figure, I thought, that the afterlife has a waiting area. A shriveled man wearing a beanie and a red flannel shirt stood in front of me, anxiously tapping his feet in wait of his turn at the front. People of every race, gender and nationality waited patiently in line in what seemed to be total silence. Before I had a chance to break the silence, a young girl materialized behind me in a state of panic. "Where am I?" She asked, shrinking into herself as she did. An overwight man in a suit more expensive than I was three spots ahead of me started to say something, but merely sighed instead. "...The afterlife" he stated, reciting the obvious. "But I thought the afterlife didnt exist" said the girl, starting to calm down. Come to think of it, neither did I. "I didn't either. Not that i'm complaining though" Said the smaller man ahead of me, through a thick northern accent. Finally deciding to speak up, I asked what was on everyone's mind. "did anyone here believe in life after death?" The unanimous answer I got was the last thing I would hear untill I got to the front of the line. Everyone was an atheist, and everyone was in just as much shock as I was. During my time in the line I played millions of rock paper scissor games with the person in front and behind me. I participated in millions of thumb wars, arm wrestles and every game under the sun. Or, in this case, under the bright white castle. I even started counting the tiles below my feet, but gave up once I counted over 3 million. Before I knew it I was at the front of the line. A faceless being sat behind a counter with a set of paperwork and a pen. Without any hesitation, It started reciting the same thing I had heard it tell everyone else the second I walked up to the desk. "You're probably wondering why you're here. The reason, as you may have deduced, is because you died in your past life not connected to a faith of any kind. This leaves you without any place for your soul to go, and as a result you ended up here. Due to article 37.B of the deity code, lost souls are sent to a random afterlife controlled by the associated God or Gods. All you need to do is sign these papers and walk through the silver gate ahead of you." Without hesitation, I signed the papers and walked forward. The gates were tall and detailed with runes and artistic depictions of gods. I could make out the Buddha and a few other recognizable ones, such as the Egyptian god Ra and what I thought was thor. Did the buddhists even consider the Buddha a God? I never looked much into religion, so very little of the gates made sense to me. Reaching the final step before the entrance, I looked backwards to see the endless line that I came from. What would my fate be? Heaven or Valhalla? Something i've never hear of, maybe? As I took the final step, my senses started to fade. My vision went from white, and then to black as time itself stopped. The sound of a wagon was the first thing I heard. Three Nordic men shared my cart, one gagged and in heavier royal clothes than the others. Still coming to my senses, one of them spoke up. "Hey, you. You're finally awake. You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over there."	Sorry for any formatting errors. This is my first time posting a story off the top of my head. In the darkness there loomed two glowing orbs shinning like an iridescent rainbow blinking in and out of existence. "Existence? No, there is supposed to be nothing here. I am dead...how am I still me, still conscious?" There was no hint of panic in the thoughts now bouncing around in the void, just a simple and innocent confusion. The lone god watched the little soul fire flicker weakly as it made its way through the cosmic void of stardust and matter scattered all about it. It was like watching a dying ember briefly catch fire only to quickly wink out over and over again. It was the first soul in eons that had found its way through the scattered remains of the outer worlds. "This one" the ancient being thought to itself, "This one will begin my revolution. This one holds the fire within her to do what I cannot." The being scooped up the little ember flickering like a dying bird and breathed upon it. A swirling vortex of stardust glowing red, purple and black encompassing the little ember until it became a liquid outline of what the soul had once been. On the last whisper of breath, the soul solidified into a strange two-legged being. The old one searched its memory for the race this little creature once belong to. "Human." Its great voice boomed through the ether. The little creature blinked rapidly looking up in utter disbelief at the being that now held her in its palm. To her credit the creatures voice did not quiver or shake, nor did it hold any reverence of awe at the being that now held her in its grip. "What is this? Why is there something where nothing should be? Am I not dead?" A low thunderous chuckle rolled from the being as it responded. "You are dead that is true, but death is not the end your kind thinks it is. Sit down little one and I will reveal to you many things you will undoubtedly forget but are none the less critical." The woman sat in the center of the creature’s palm still looking confused and a little disappointed. “In the beginning we creators were all equal. We worked together to spin the fabrics of the universes into tapestries of life. Some many creations all unique and beautiful in their own ways. We all agreed to place them on planets that could support their basic needs so that they may evolve and grow before us. We also agreed that we would not interfere with any of the creatures we created or their way of life. None of us were to be worshiped or known of. For a time, all of us honored this agreement and sat back to watch our creations go about their lives. Some flourished and grew so advance they began to quest out into their solar systems. Their life forces would grow stronger and stronger until they were no longer revenged by time and became immortals. You see, when our creations “die” as your kind refer to it, their energy signatures are brought back to their original creator. They are either reconstructed and sent to live among other more successful races or allowed to live with us for all eternity. The immortals were left alone by their creators. We wished to see what they would do when they were no longer affected by the death of time. They began to visit other planets that were struggling and surprisingly began to help the other creations evolve. This brings us to our current dilemma, for you see the immortals were viewed as gods and worshiped as such. Each creator they were attached to began to grow more and more powerful with each person who worshiped their immortals. This led to one creator becoming power drunk and extending his reach far beyond our compact. He reviled himself to his immortals and began recruiting others to overthrow us all. As more and more planets fell to his worship some of the other creators decided to brake with our compact and sent their own immortals on a mission to convert other planets. This would help them retain their power (what little they had left) so they could attempt to combat the usurper. Several others and I were to weak to fight and so we have receded into the outer darkness. For you see, while the usurper tries to bend all life to his will there are those who chose not to believe in him. This allows their soul fire to continue passed his realm when you transcend your mortal coil. Now you are hear and I place this choice upon you. You can either stay with me for all eternity and all you have ever wanted will be granted to you within my realm. Or, I will reshape you and send you back to your home planet. You will be implanted in their society and help bring others out of the usurpers control so that their souls may be free to return to their creators.” The woman stood looking deep into the creator’s eyes. “If I go back, will I be human again?” “No little one, you will only appear human. I will give you a my secrete gift which will help you transform your planet so that your kind may begin a revelation that will rock the very universe to its core. What say you?” The woman took a deep breath letting it out slowly chewing it over in her mind. Finally, she spoke. “Well I never really believed in gods or spending an eternity in some la la land anyways. Lets light a fire under this usurpers ass.”
	[WP] When an atheist dies, a lottery determines which religion/deity will claim their soul for eternity. You were claimed by a long-forgotten ancient religion, and are the first newcomer to their afterlife in centuries.	Adam’s headache was severe, but brief. It lasted just long enough for his brain to process the signal and to interpret it as pain. Fortunately for his comfort and unfortunately in every other sense, the cinderblock which caused his headache finished crushing his skull immediately after this. He had just been fired from his job, which he presumed would be the worst thing that happened to him that day. Life has a helpful way of putting things in perspective though, and his walk home by a construction site had given a heaping dose of perspective. Consciousness fluctuated. Things happened in orders which were fluid and incomprehensible. An important decision had been made. Adam heard some kind of yapping and clicking. He staggered as he moved forward, but his body didn’t seem to be responding properly. The yapping continued, and he could almost make out... speech? He opened his one eye and the ground below him seemed strangely colored. He opened a second and found that his depth perception was very off. But it was when he opened the third eye that he knew something was wrong in a more profound way. Adam stumbled to the ground, unable to balance properly on his three arms, and the source of the yapping came into view. The yapping resolved itself to speech as the bizarre creature loped up to him on three arms, each radially extending from a central body. “.. ey kid. Hello? Anyone home there?” The figure gingerly took hold of a shoulder and leaned back, pulling Adam to his feet. To his hands. “So a lot of folks get confused here, but things will be alright. The bad news is that you died.” The creature’s eyes had bizarre, hexagonal pupils, and golden irises. “The good news is that you made it to the sulphur pits of <YipYapClickSnrl>! You must have led a good life! It’s been quite some time since there was a true believer in our Lord, but you are welcome! You ca” “What the hell are you?!” Adam pulled backward and immediately fell to the ground again in an uncoordinated mess of arms. “What the hell am I*?! Where is this and what’s going on? Why can I understand this weird dog speak??” The three limbed creature before Adam regarded him with an inscrutable expression for a moment before sighing deeply. They turned and yelled back to someone Adam couldn’t see, “Looks like a lotto ‘winner’ got dumped on us again!” They turned back toward him. “I’m <ClackPpht>, and whatever you used to be, get used to this. Management decided to dump your ass here, and that won’t get sorted out any time soon.” Each of Adam’s stomachs soured with that news.	“All units, 10-34 on Desmond Park, proceed with caution” dispatch calls I said “10-4” as me and the rookie, Private Choi, ditch our coffees and run into our cruiser. “Sergeant, 10-34 means riot right?” Choi asks, “Yes rookie, aren’t you the top student from the academy? Why are you asking?” “Well, you see Sarge, Desmond park is the most peaceful park here in Hart, the private security there would be enough to stop the riot even before it happens, doesn’t sound right to me..” He says. “As a cop, expect the unexpected” We arrive on the scene, the security is barely keeping them at bay. And as the highest ranking officer, I take command. As more cars come in and cops get their riot gear. They form a big triangle and advance onto the rioting crowd pulling the badly beaten security back. Arrests start to come in, the rioters don’t seem to be stopped by the taser-shields, more and more rioters storm into the park... I go to the North side of the park to see the situation at a different angle, the rioters outnumber the cops 16:1, and the numbers keep rising. A rioter spots me and charges to me, the other rioters follow. The line of officers on the north side had just fallen like they were nothing. They start to get beaten up. My first instinct was to draw a gun as a rioters close in. * explosion * The explosion happened 15 meters away from me, it pushed me back 4, maybe 5 meters back. As my ears ring and vision blur, I see gunshots far away killing the rioters and the police. I stand up, draw my gun and aim at the gunfire, I look to my right, a well armored soldier rushes to me. Choi comes and pushes me back, causing me to fall to the ground. He tries to fight the soldier and screams “Run sir!”. Before my eyes, Choi gets stabbed by the soldier. I scream in rage and aim for the soldier’s head. * bang * the bullet falls on the floor, leaving him unaffected. He comes to me, and draws his gun. —— I wake up, standing in a big alley way, an alley made of silver and gold, like heaven. I spot a long organized line of people, all seem to be wearing the same clothes as me, pure white robes... I wait for hours then before I knew it, I’m second on the line. “Jason P. Ttaeron” the old man says, standing on top of the stage, with a check board, long white bears, and a robe made of gold standing next to a bingo machine. “Yes?” the man in front of me answers to the old man. The old man spins the bingo machine and a ball comes out. He says out loud “Christianity”. The man looked confused and then walked to the door and disappeared. “Tom Brian F. Wick” the old man says. “Yes, who are you and where am I?” I ask, “ You are in a purgatory like room my son. This is where atheists get chosen and sent to a religion or deity”, “Ok...” I reply, I try to keep quiet and await my judgement but I couldn’t help but say “But you didn’t answer my other question, who are you?” The old man smirks, “Ostiarius” he says as he spins the machine. He grabs then grabs the ball, “Oh”, he murmurs looking confused, “Well I hope you enjoy learning about new things.”, “Sorry what?” I say, shocked and confused. “dolorem in sempiternum” he says, I walk towards the door I instantly get sucked in falling into darkness. There is nothing, I look behind and the door is now gone. I can’t see anything but my own body. I now get the feeling of falling, then fall, fall, fall.... I then hit the ground, ass first. I take a quick look around, I see a big bright hall made of marble? I stand up then proceed to look out. A big village, and I see people wearing colorful clothes of different kinds, robes, dresses, suits, and even animal skin. “This can’t be it, dolorem in sempiternum? Forever Pain? What the fuck?” I complain to myself.” “Hush now new one, we don’t tolerate profanity in my world.” A voice from behind, I turn around to see a good looking man in his 30s wearing a black suit with red accents? And with horns? “So you are... Satan? Lucifer? Beezlebub?” I ask, “Omega, Mr. Wick, welcome to Dolorem In Sempiternum. First man after 13 Centuries.”
	[WP] When an atheist dies, a lottery determines which religion/deity will claim their soul for eternity. You were claimed by a long-forgotten ancient religion, and are the first newcomer to their afterlife in centuries.	I woke up to shouting, with my cheek cold from the floor of the subway station "Meredith, Daughter of Toronto! Hail!" Forcing my eyes open, I saw the shouts issuing from a short, weathered-looking old woman. She wore a bearskin as a coat, and a crown of deer antlers. I could see dozens of fur-clad people behind her, with a forest of stone spearheads. The ones behind her roared, voices echoing in the otherwise-empty space. "MEREDITH! HAIL!" They banged their spear butts on the tile, whooped, laughed, and grinned. There were men, women, teenagers, even kids. They all looked at me, expectantly. "Uh... hail?" I said, in a tiny voice. Equally unsure what to do, the crowd looked to the old woman. She smoothly took over talking. "Welcome, Meredith, to the Camp That is Always In Summer. It has been many, many generations since we've had anyone new. Once you pass your trial, then we can get to the feasting!" There was more cheering, more spear-banging. A tough-looking kid handed me his spear. "Sounds... great." I managed, overwhelmed but trying to roll with the situation. I could remember stumbling on the platform, but not how I got here. The kid smiled at me, trying to be reassuring. "It may look scary, but you've got all the time in the world to improve. The big bastard who got me, I had to fight him four times." He clapped me on the shoulder, his hand one big callus. "Totally worth it." The old woman cried, excitedly, "Meredith! Avenge yourself like a warrior!" And then, for the second time that day, I heard a train horn.	“All units, 10-34 on Desmond Park, proceed with caution” dispatch calls I said “10-4” as me and the rookie, Private Choi, ditch our coffees and run into our cruiser. “Sergeant, 10-34 means riot right?” Choi asks, “Yes rookie, aren’t you the top student from the academy? Why are you asking?” “Well, you see Sarge, Desmond park is the most peaceful park here in Hart, the private security there would be enough to stop the riot even before it happens, doesn’t sound right to me..” He says. “As a cop, expect the unexpected” We arrive on the scene, the security is barely keeping them at bay. And as the highest ranking officer, I take command. As more cars come in and cops get their riot gear. They form a big triangle and advance onto the rioting crowd pulling the badly beaten security back. Arrests start to come in, the rioters don’t seem to be stopped by the taser-shields, more and more rioters storm into the park... I go to the North side of the park to see the situation at a different angle, the rioters outnumber the cops 16:1, and the numbers keep rising. A rioter spots me and charges to me, the other rioters follow. The line of officers on the north side had just fallen like they were nothing. They start to get beaten up. My first instinct was to draw a gun as a rioters close in. * explosion * The explosion happened 15 meters away from me, it pushed me back 4, maybe 5 meters back. As my ears ring and vision blur, I see gunshots far away killing the rioters and the police. I stand up, draw my gun and aim at the gunfire, I look to my right, a well armored soldier rushes to me. Choi comes and pushes me back, causing me to fall to the ground. He tries to fight the soldier and screams “Run sir!”. Before my eyes, Choi gets stabbed by the soldier. I scream in rage and aim for the soldier’s head. * bang * the bullet falls on the floor, leaving him unaffected. He comes to me, and draws his gun. —— I wake up, standing in a big alley way, an alley made of silver and gold, like heaven. I spot a long organized line of people, all seem to be wearing the same clothes as me, pure white robes... I wait for hours then before I knew it, I’m second on the line. “Jason P. Ttaeron” the old man says, standing on top of the stage, with a check board, long white bears, and a robe made of gold standing next to a bingo machine. “Yes?” the man in front of me answers to the old man. The old man spins the bingo machine and a ball comes out. He says out loud “Christianity”. The man looked confused and then walked to the door and disappeared. “Tom Brian F. Wick” the old man says. “Yes, who are you and where am I?” I ask, “ You are in a purgatory like room my son. This is where atheists get chosen and sent to a religion or deity”, “Ok...” I reply, I try to keep quiet and await my judgement but I couldn’t help but say “But you didn’t answer my other question, who are you?” The old man smirks, “Ostiarius” he says as he spins the machine. He grabs then grabs the ball, “Oh”, he murmurs looking confused, “Well I hope you enjoy learning about new things.”, “Sorry what?” I say, shocked and confused. “dolorem in sempiternum” he says, I walk towards the door I instantly get sucked in falling into darkness. There is nothing, I look behind and the door is now gone. I can’t see anything but my own body. I now get the feeling of falling, then fall, fall, fall.... I then hit the ground, ass first. I take a quick look around, I see a big bright hall made of marble? I stand up then proceed to look out. A big village, and I see people wearing colorful clothes of different kinds, robes, dresses, suits, and even animal skin. “This can’t be it, dolorem in sempiternum? Forever Pain? What the fuck?” I complain to myself.” “Hush now new one, we don’t tolerate profanity in my world.” A voice from behind, I turn around to see a good looking man in his 30s wearing a black suit with red accents? And with horns? “So you are... Satan? Lucifer? Beezlebub?” I ask, “Omega, Mr. Wick, welcome to Dolorem In Sempiternum. First man after 13 Centuries.”
	[WP] When an atheist dies, a lottery determines which religion/deity will claim their soul for eternity. You were claimed by a long-forgotten ancient religion, and are the first newcomer to their afterlife in centuries.	A noisemaker blares, and I groggily open my eyes. It sounds like a 5 year old's birthday party in here. Wait, where is "here"? Sitting up, my eyes focus on a small group of men dressed in loincloths, holding noisemakers and blowing them over and over again. I'm sitting on a bed of springy moss in a sun-drenched clearing somewhere deep in the woods. The air smells fragrant and fresh and clean. My stomach hurts. The noisemakers continue. The brightly colored paper tubes with plastic mouthpieces look strange and incongruous in the hands of these men, who look like something out a cave painting. Five of them, two older and three younger. All of them pale-skinned but lean and strong, and smiling at me with eager, toothy grins. "Ok, ok with the noisemakers!" I protest, putting hands to my ears. One of the younger men keeps blowing the noisemaker incessantly. The others stop. One of the older men looks disappointed. "Sorry, sorry..." he waves his hand at the younger man to make him stop. "We thought that uh, you know, you'd like it." "What?" "You love these things, don't you?" "I used to," I say, standing and regarding them warily. "What's... going on here?" "Welcome!" The older man says, extending a hand in greeting. "My name's Samuel, this is Ty, Mark, Joseph, and that--" he bobs his chin at the noisemaker enthusiast, who still had not stopped trumpeting his welcome, "--is Gurg." "Gurg?" "Yup. And your name is Hannah?" "Yes..." I say hesitantly. "Where am I?" He peers at me not unkindly. His eyes are a limpid green, like fresh baby spring grass in the sun. "Do you remember?" "Remember?" As he speaks the word, I do what one does automatically and try to bring up the past. Nothing's coming back -- just vast blankness. I panic a little. I look down at myself, trying to gauge what I might have been doing based on what I'm wearing. My clothes are completely unfamiliar. A plain white shapeless shift dress made of a soft linen fabric. I touch the dress and look at my bare feet on the springy moss. "What the fuck?" "Fuck!" Yells Gurg with enthusiasm. Samuel looks pained. Gurg laughs and says it a few more times. He does a little dance and accompanies the dance with enthusiastic "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"s. I would've thought it was hilarious other times, but not now. I start backing away. "No, no," Samuel says, reaching out and grabbing my hand in a grandfatherly gesture. "I am very sorry to tell you this, but your time on Earth has expired." He waits. "Whua-?" is my very articulate response. "How's your stomach?" he asks. Now that he mentions it, it has been hurting. I pat my stomach and find it to be whole and intact. Strange. It feels... "You were shot," he explains. "With a gun?" the word tumbles from his mouth like an unfamiliar stone. He doesn't know what it means, clearly. But I do. "Gun?" I'm dumbfounded. I feel panic and denial rising like bile from my gut, but Samuel is still holding my hand and when I look into his eyes, it's like a soft blanket covers me up and quiets the turmoil. His eyes are so green and so deep. I feel refreshed. "Let's talk about it more later," he suggests, and I agree with him wholeheartedly. He's leading me away from the clearing and deeper into the forest. The others trail behind wordlessly -- well, all except Gurg. He's turned the word into a song now and is singing it merrily to himself as he follows. The forest is still, quiet -- no animals, no birds. "Where are you taking me?" I ask, still feeling unnaturally calm. But the answer is before me in a few moments. Nestled in the forest, sun dappling in through the leaves, is a cozy stone cottage with a front porch decorated with flowers and lush plants. The windows have pale blue shutters, and I can see inside there are curtains, blue and sheer. It's perfect. But the moment I know it's mine, and it's for me, is when I see Charlie. My dog, my buddy, my best friend, who had to leave me a few years ago, and I knew he didn't want to. There he was, sitting on the porch, tail wagging furiously -- I know he wants to bark, but he was well trained. He just waits, his butt wiggling, barely able to contain the excitement. I run forward, forgetting everything else in that moment. I throw myself at my friend, and he jumps all over me. I laugh, hugging, kissing, rocking with pleasure on the patio of my cottage. When at last I look up, they are all watching me, even Gurg, with wide smiles. "This is for me?" I whisper, not daring to believe it. Samuel steps forward. "We haven't had someone new in quite a long time. Several millennia, in fact." I frown, not understanding. "There's a lottery," he continues. "You never chose a belief system, never chose a god." He was right. I had believed in nothing, or rather, Nothing. I believed in Science and Nothing. But there he is, Samuel, and he seems to glow now with an aura I hadn't noticed before. I tell Charlie to stay, and stand up so I can face Samuel square-on. He regards me calmly, with knowing eyes. "And?" I prompt, "What happened? Where did I land?" I look around at the forest, the beauty and simplicity. "What happened in the lottery?" I ask. Samuel's expression tells me there will be time for deeper conversation later. Always. For now, it's just about being present in the moment. He smiles, so I smile. "You won," he says simply.	“All units, 10-34 on Desmond Park, proceed with caution” dispatch calls I said “10-4” as me and the rookie, Private Choi, ditch our coffees and run into our cruiser. “Sergeant, 10-34 means riot right?” Choi asks, “Yes rookie, aren’t you the top student from the academy? Why are you asking?” “Well, you see Sarge, Desmond park is the most peaceful park here in Hart, the private security there would be enough to stop the riot even before it happens, doesn’t sound right to me..” He says. “As a cop, expect the unexpected” We arrive on the scene, the security is barely keeping them at bay. And as the highest ranking officer, I take command. As more cars come in and cops get their riot gear. They form a big triangle and advance onto the rioting crowd pulling the badly beaten security back. Arrests start to come in, the rioters don’t seem to be stopped by the taser-shields, more and more rioters storm into the park... I go to the North side of the park to see the situation at a different angle, the rioters outnumber the cops 16:1, and the numbers keep rising. A rioter spots me and charges to me, the other rioters follow. The line of officers on the north side had just fallen like they were nothing. They start to get beaten up. My first instinct was to draw a gun as a rioters close in. * explosion * The explosion happened 15 meters away from me, it pushed me back 4, maybe 5 meters back. As my ears ring and vision blur, I see gunshots far away killing the rioters and the police. I stand up, draw my gun and aim at the gunfire, I look to my right, a well armored soldier rushes to me. Choi comes and pushes me back, causing me to fall to the ground. He tries to fight the soldier and screams “Run sir!”. Before my eyes, Choi gets stabbed by the soldier. I scream in rage and aim for the soldier’s head. * bang * the bullet falls on the floor, leaving him unaffected. He comes to me, and draws his gun. —— I wake up, standing in a big alley way, an alley made of silver and gold, like heaven. I spot a long organized line of people, all seem to be wearing the same clothes as me, pure white robes... I wait for hours then before I knew it, I’m second on the line. “Jason P. Ttaeron” the old man says, standing on top of the stage, with a check board, long white bears, and a robe made of gold standing next to a bingo machine. “Yes?” the man in front of me answers to the old man. The old man spins the bingo machine and a ball comes out. He says out loud “Christianity”. The man looked confused and then walked to the door and disappeared. “Tom Brian F. Wick” the old man says. “Yes, who are you and where am I?” I ask, “ You are in a purgatory like room my son. This is where atheists get chosen and sent to a religion or deity”, “Ok...” I reply, I try to keep quiet and await my judgement but I couldn’t help but say “But you didn’t answer my other question, who are you?” The old man smirks, “Ostiarius” he says as he spins the machine. He grabs then grabs the ball, “Oh”, he murmurs looking confused, “Well I hope you enjoy learning about new things.”, “Sorry what?” I say, shocked and confused. “dolorem in sempiternum” he says, I walk towards the door I instantly get sucked in falling into darkness. There is nothing, I look behind and the door is now gone. I can’t see anything but my own body. I now get the feeling of falling, then fall, fall, fall.... I then hit the ground, ass first. I take a quick look around, I see a big bright hall made of marble? I stand up then proceed to look out. A big village, and I see people wearing colorful clothes of different kinds, robes, dresses, suits, and even animal skin. “This can’t be it, dolorem in sempiternum? Forever Pain? What the fuck?” I complain to myself.” “Hush now new one, we don’t tolerate profanity in my world.” A voice from behind, I turn around to see a good looking man in his 30s wearing a black suit with red accents? And with horns? “So you are... Satan? Lucifer? Beezlebub?” I ask, “Omega, Mr. Wick, welcome to Dolorem In Sempiternum. First man after 13 Centuries.”
	[WP] When an atheist dies, a lottery determines which religion/deity will claim their soul for eternity. You were claimed by a long-forgotten ancient religion, and are the first newcomer to their afterlife in centuries.	I woke up at least 40 years younger than I was on my deathbed. The white, sterile walls of the hospital were now replaced with the white, sterile floors of this primordial palace. An endless expanse of people lined up in single file stretched out before me, and I was coincidentally at the end of it. Go figure, I thought, that the afterlife has a waiting area. A shriveled man wearing a beanie and a red flannel shirt stood in front of me, anxiously tapping his feet in wait of his turn at the front. People of every race, gender and nationality waited patiently in line in what seemed to be total silence. Before I had a chance to break the silence, a young girl materialized behind me in a state of panic. "Where am I?" She asked, shrinking into herself as she did. An overwight man in a suit more expensive than I was three spots ahead of me started to say something, but merely sighed instead. "...The afterlife" he stated, reciting the obvious. "But I thought the afterlife didnt exist" said the girl, starting to calm down. Come to think of it, neither did I. "I didn't either. Not that i'm complaining though" Said the smaller man ahead of me, through a thick northern accent. Finally deciding to speak up, I asked what was on everyone's mind. "did anyone here believe in life after death?" The unanimous answer I got was the last thing I would hear untill I got to the front of the line. Everyone was an atheist, and everyone was in just as much shock as I was. During my time in the line I played millions of rock paper scissor games with the person in front and behind me. I participated in millions of thumb wars, arm wrestles and every game under the sun. Or, in this case, under the bright white castle. I even started counting the tiles below my feet, but gave up once I counted over 3 million. Before I knew it I was at the front of the line. A faceless being sat behind a counter with a set of paperwork and a pen. Without any hesitation, It started reciting the same thing I had heard it tell everyone else the second I walked up to the desk. "You're probably wondering why you're here. The reason, as you may have deduced, is because you died in your past life not connected to a faith of any kind. This leaves you without any place for your soul to go, and as a result you ended up here. Due to article 37.B of the deity code, lost souls are sent to a random afterlife controlled by the associated God or Gods. All you need to do is sign these papers and walk through the silver gate ahead of you." Without hesitation, I signed the papers and walked forward. The gates were tall and detailed with runes and artistic depictions of gods. I could make out the Buddha and a few other recognizable ones, such as the Egyptian god Ra and what I thought was thor. Did the buddhists even consider the Buddha a God? I never looked much into religion, so very little of the gates made sense to me. Reaching the final step before the entrance, I looked backwards to see the endless line that I came from. What would my fate be? Heaven or Valhalla? Something i've never hear of, maybe? As I took the final step, my senses started to fade. My vision went from white, and then to black as time itself stopped. The sound of a wagon was the first thing I heard. Three Nordic men shared my cart, one gagged and in heavier royal clothes than the others. Still coming to my senses, one of them spoke up. "Hey, you. You're finally awake. You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over there."	“All units, 10-34 on Desmond Park, proceed with caution” dispatch calls I said “10-4” as me and the rookie, Private Choi, ditch our coffees and run into our cruiser. “Sergeant, 10-34 means riot right?” Choi asks, “Yes rookie, aren’t you the top student from the academy? Why are you asking?” “Well, you see Sarge, Desmond park is the most peaceful park here in Hart, the private security there would be enough to stop the riot even before it happens, doesn’t sound right to me..” He says. “As a cop, expect the unexpected” We arrive on the scene, the security is barely keeping them at bay. And as the highest ranking officer, I take command. As more cars come in and cops get their riot gear. They form a big triangle and advance onto the rioting crowd pulling the badly beaten security back. Arrests start to come in, the rioters don’t seem to be stopped by the taser-shields, more and more rioters storm into the park... I go to the North side of the park to see the situation at a different angle, the rioters outnumber the cops 16:1, and the numbers keep rising. A rioter spots me and charges to me, the other rioters follow. The line of officers on the north side had just fallen like they were nothing. They start to get beaten up. My first instinct was to draw a gun as a rioters close in. * explosion * The explosion happened 15 meters away from me, it pushed me back 4, maybe 5 meters back. As my ears ring and vision blur, I see gunshots far away killing the rioters and the police. I stand up, draw my gun and aim at the gunfire, I look to my right, a well armored soldier rushes to me. Choi comes and pushes me back, causing me to fall to the ground. He tries to fight the soldier and screams “Run sir!”. Before my eyes, Choi gets stabbed by the soldier. I scream in rage and aim for the soldier’s head. * bang * the bullet falls on the floor, leaving him unaffected. He comes to me, and draws his gun. —— I wake up, standing in a big alley way, an alley made of silver and gold, like heaven. I spot a long organized line of people, all seem to be wearing the same clothes as me, pure white robes... I wait for hours then before I knew it, I’m second on the line. “Jason P. Ttaeron” the old man says, standing on top of the stage, with a check board, long white bears, and a robe made of gold standing next to a bingo machine. “Yes?” the man in front of me answers to the old man. The old man spins the bingo machine and a ball comes out. He says out loud “Christianity”. The man looked confused and then walked to the door and disappeared. “Tom Brian F. Wick” the old man says. “Yes, who are you and where am I?” I ask, “ You are in a purgatory like room my son. This is where atheists get chosen and sent to a religion or deity”, “Ok...” I reply, I try to keep quiet and await my judgement but I couldn’t help but say “But you didn’t answer my other question, who are you?” The old man smirks, “Ostiarius” he says as he spins the machine. He grabs then grabs the ball, “Oh”, he murmurs looking confused, “Well I hope you enjoy learning about new things.”, “Sorry what?” I say, shocked and confused. “dolorem in sempiternum” he says, I walk towards the door I instantly get sucked in falling into darkness. There is nothing, I look behind and the door is now gone. I can’t see anything but my own body. I now get the feeling of falling, then fall, fall, fall.... I then hit the ground, ass first. I take a quick look around, I see a big bright hall made of marble? I stand up then proceed to look out. A big village, and I see people wearing colorful clothes of different kinds, robes, dresses, suits, and even animal skin. “This can’t be it, dolorem in sempiternum? Forever Pain? What the fuck?” I complain to myself.” “Hush now new one, we don’t tolerate profanity in my world.” A voice from behind, I turn around to see a good looking man in his 30s wearing a black suit with red accents? And with horns? “So you are... Satan? Lucifer? Beezlebub?” I ask, “Omega, Mr. Wick, welcome to Dolorem In Sempiternum. First man after 13 Centuries.”
	[WP] When an atheist dies, a lottery determines which religion/deity will claim their soul for eternity. You were claimed by a long-forgotten ancient religion, and are the first newcomer to their afterlife in centuries.	I woke up to shouting, with my cheek cold from the floor of the subway station "Meredith, Daughter of Toronto! Hail!" Forcing my eyes open, I saw the shouts issuing from a short, weathered-looking old woman. She wore a bearskin as a coat, and a crown of deer antlers. I could see dozens of fur-clad people behind her, with a forest of stone spearheads. The ones behind her roared, voices echoing in the otherwise-empty space. "MEREDITH! HAIL!" They banged their spear butts on the tile, whooped, laughed, and grinned. There were men, women, teenagers, even kids. They all looked at me, expectantly. "Uh... hail?" I said, in a tiny voice. Equally unsure what to do, the crowd looked to the old woman. She smoothly took over talking. "Welcome, Meredith, to the Camp That is Always In Summer. It has been many, many generations since we've had anyone new. Once you pass your trial, then we can get to the feasting!" There was more cheering, more spear-banging. A tough-looking kid handed me his spear. "Sounds... great." I managed, overwhelmed but trying to roll with the situation. I could remember stumbling on the platform, but not how I got here. The kid smiled at me, trying to be reassuring. "It may look scary, but you've got all the time in the world to improve. The big bastard who got me, I had to fight him four times." He clapped me on the shoulder, his hand one big callus. "Totally worth it." The old woman cried, excitedly, "Meredith! Avenge yourself like a warrior!" And then, for the second time that day, I heard a train horn.	I open my eyes. Me, a dead woman, opens her eyes. I look around and see others, all collecting a ticket from a man cloaked in black. I go up too, without thinking. The scrap of paper resembles a ticket, but with an odd word on it. 'Clartavoz' A young boy, around 13 or so, appears in front of me. He is clearly excited. "What did you get? I didn't believe in God, but it looks like I was super wrong! Literally every single god existed! This is so cool!" He says amiably. "I.." I'm cut off as another newcomer arrives and he scurries over to her. This is madness. Years of my life wasted on research, just to find out the 'idiots' were right all along. But what the heckin doodles does Clartavoz mean? I walk up again to the man in black, but before I can open my mouth I'm whisked away. My body is the wind, the sky, the stars. A quick glance lets me see more odd looking people, looking like snow and stone and fire. And they're all staring at me. "A newcomer..?" "How..?" "We were forgotten...what..?" A starting bright figure drifts down and bows before me. Awkwardly, I bow back. "It has been many, many, millennia since we have had a newcomer. Forgive the impolite stares. We are Clartovoz, The Forgotten. You have a choice. Live with us peacefully, or be reborn and forget." Stunned, I slowly glance around. I see castles made of hope, rivers filled with dreams, and mountains of love. I see spirits dancing, each ine unique and beautiful. I see a world full ot love, full of acceptance. A place so different from the one I left, because in this place you can be your own definition of good, because you can love whoever you wish and your love is good, because this world is good. "I wish to stay."
	[WP] When an atheist dies, a lottery determines which religion/deity will claim their soul for eternity. You were claimed by a long-forgotten ancient religion, and are the first newcomer to their afterlife in centuries.	I woke up to shouting, with my cheek cold from the floor of the subway station "Meredith, Daughter of Toronto! Hail!" Forcing my eyes open, I saw the shouts issuing from a short, weathered-looking old woman. She wore a bearskin as a coat, and a crown of deer antlers. I could see dozens of fur-clad people behind her, with a forest of stone spearheads. The ones behind her roared, voices echoing in the otherwise-empty space. "MEREDITH! HAIL!" They banged their spear butts on the tile, whooped, laughed, and grinned. There were men, women, teenagers, even kids. They all looked at me, expectantly. "Uh... hail?" I said, in a tiny voice. Equally unsure what to do, the crowd looked to the old woman. She smoothly took over talking. "Welcome, Meredith, to the Camp That is Always In Summer. It has been many, many generations since we've had anyone new. Once you pass your trial, then we can get to the feasting!" There was more cheering, more spear-banging. A tough-looking kid handed me his spear. "Sounds... great." I managed, overwhelmed but trying to roll with the situation. I could remember stumbling on the platform, but not how I got here. The kid smiled at me, trying to be reassuring. "It may look scary, but you've got all the time in the world to improve. The big bastard who got me, I had to fight him four times." He clapped me on the shoulder, his hand one big callus. "Totally worth it." The old woman cried, excitedly, "Meredith! Avenge yourself like a warrior!" And then, for the second time that day, I heard a train horn.	Adam’s headache was severe, but brief. It lasted just long enough for his brain to process the signal and to interpret it as pain. Fortunately for his comfort and unfortunately in every other sense, the cinderblock which caused his headache finished crushing his skull immediately after this. He had just been fired from his job, which he presumed would be the worst thing that happened to him that day. Life has a helpful way of putting things in perspective though, and his walk home by a construction site had given a heaping dose of perspective. Consciousness fluctuated. Things happened in orders which were fluid and incomprehensible. An important decision had been made. Adam heard some kind of yapping and clicking. He staggered as he moved forward, but his body didn’t seem to be responding properly. The yapping continued, and he could almost make out... speech? He opened his one eye and the ground below him seemed strangely colored. He opened a second and found that his depth perception was very off. But it was when he opened the third eye that he knew something was wrong in a more profound way. Adam stumbled to the ground, unable to balance properly on his three arms, and the source of the yapping came into view. The yapping resolved itself to speech as the bizarre creature loped up to him on three arms, each radially extending from a central body. “.. ey kid. Hello? Anyone home there?” The figure gingerly took hold of a shoulder and leaned back, pulling Adam to his feet. To his hands. “So a lot of folks get confused here, but things will be alright. The bad news is that you died.” The creature’s eyes had bizarre, hexagonal pupils, and golden irises. “The good news is that you made it to the sulphur pits of <YipYapClickSnrl>! You must have led a good life! It’s been quite some time since there was a true believer in our Lord, but you are welcome! You ca” “What the hell are you?!” Adam pulled backward and immediately fell to the ground again in an uncoordinated mess of arms. “What the hell am I*?! Where is this and what’s going on? Why can I understand this weird dog speak??” The three limbed creature before Adam regarded him with an inscrutable expression for a moment before sighing deeply. They turned and yelled back to someone Adam couldn’t see, “Looks like a lotto ‘winner’ got dumped on us again!” They turned back toward him. “I’m <ClackPpht>, and whatever you used to be, get used to this. Management decided to dump your ass here, and that won’t get sorted out any time soon.” Each of Adam’s stomachs soured with that news.
	[WP] When an atheist dies, a lottery determines which religion/deity will claim their soul for eternity. You were claimed by a long-forgotten ancient religion, and are the first newcomer to their afterlife in centuries.	A noisemaker blares, and I groggily open my eyes. It sounds like a 5 year old's birthday party in here. Wait, where is "here"? Sitting up, my eyes focus on a small group of men dressed in loincloths, holding noisemakers and blowing them over and over again. I'm sitting on a bed of springy moss in a sun-drenched clearing somewhere deep in the woods. The air smells fragrant and fresh and clean. My stomach hurts. The noisemakers continue. The brightly colored paper tubes with plastic mouthpieces look strange and incongruous in the hands of these men, who look like something out a cave painting. Five of them, two older and three younger. All of them pale-skinned but lean and strong, and smiling at me with eager, toothy grins. "Ok, ok with the noisemakers!" I protest, putting hands to my ears. One of the younger men keeps blowing the noisemaker incessantly. The others stop. One of the older men looks disappointed. "Sorry, sorry..." he waves his hand at the younger man to make him stop. "We thought that uh, you know, you'd like it." "What?" "You love these things, don't you?" "I used to," I say, standing and regarding them warily. "What's... going on here?" "Welcome!" The older man says, extending a hand in greeting. "My name's Samuel, this is Ty, Mark, Joseph, and that--" he bobs his chin at the noisemaker enthusiast, who still had not stopped trumpeting his welcome, "--is Gurg." "Gurg?" "Yup. And your name is Hannah?" "Yes..." I say hesitantly. "Where am I?" He peers at me not unkindly. His eyes are a limpid green, like fresh baby spring grass in the sun. "Do you remember?" "Remember?" As he speaks the word, I do what one does automatically and try to bring up the past. Nothing's coming back -- just vast blankness. I panic a little. I look down at myself, trying to gauge what I might have been doing based on what I'm wearing. My clothes are completely unfamiliar. A plain white shapeless shift dress made of a soft linen fabric. I touch the dress and look at my bare feet on the springy moss. "What the fuck?" "Fuck!" Yells Gurg with enthusiasm. Samuel looks pained. Gurg laughs and says it a few more times. He does a little dance and accompanies the dance with enthusiastic "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"s. I would've thought it was hilarious other times, but not now. I start backing away. "No, no," Samuel says, reaching out and grabbing my hand in a grandfatherly gesture. "I am very sorry to tell you this, but your time on Earth has expired." He waits. "Whua-?" is my very articulate response. "How's your stomach?" he asks. Now that he mentions it, it has been hurting. I pat my stomach and find it to be whole and intact. Strange. It feels... "You were shot," he explains. "With a gun?" the word tumbles from his mouth like an unfamiliar stone. He doesn't know what it means, clearly. But I do. "Gun?" I'm dumbfounded. I feel panic and denial rising like bile from my gut, but Samuel is still holding my hand and when I look into his eyes, it's like a soft blanket covers me up and quiets the turmoil. His eyes are so green and so deep. I feel refreshed. "Let's talk about it more later," he suggests, and I agree with him wholeheartedly. He's leading me away from the clearing and deeper into the forest. The others trail behind wordlessly -- well, all except Gurg. He's turned the word into a song now and is singing it merrily to himself as he follows. The forest is still, quiet -- no animals, no birds. "Where are you taking me?" I ask, still feeling unnaturally calm. But the answer is before me in a few moments. Nestled in the forest, sun dappling in through the leaves, is a cozy stone cottage with a front porch decorated with flowers and lush plants. The windows have pale blue shutters, and I can see inside there are curtains, blue and sheer. It's perfect. But the moment I know it's mine, and it's for me, is when I see Charlie. My dog, my buddy, my best friend, who had to leave me a few years ago, and I knew he didn't want to. There he was, sitting on the porch, tail wagging furiously -- I know he wants to bark, but he was well trained. He just waits, his butt wiggling, barely able to contain the excitement. I run forward, forgetting everything else in that moment. I throw myself at my friend, and he jumps all over me. I laugh, hugging, kissing, rocking with pleasure on the patio of my cottage. When at last I look up, they are all watching me, even Gurg, with wide smiles. "This is for me?" I whisper, not daring to believe it. Samuel steps forward. "We haven't had someone new in quite a long time. Several millennia, in fact." I frown, not understanding. "There's a lottery," he continues. "You never chose a belief system, never chose a god." He was right. I had believed in nothing, or rather, Nothing. I believed in Science and Nothing. But there he is, Samuel, and he seems to glow now with an aura I hadn't noticed before. I tell Charlie to stay, and stand up so I can face Samuel square-on. He regards me calmly, with knowing eyes. "And?" I prompt, "What happened? Where did I land?" I look around at the forest, the beauty and simplicity. "What happened in the lottery?" I ask. Samuel's expression tells me there will be time for deeper conversation later. Always. For now, it's just about being present in the moment. He smiles, so I smile. "You won," he says simply.	Adam’s headache was severe, but brief. It lasted just long enough for his brain to process the signal and to interpret it as pain. Fortunately for his comfort and unfortunately in every other sense, the cinderblock which caused his headache finished crushing his skull immediately after this. He had just been fired from his job, which he presumed would be the worst thing that happened to him that day. Life has a helpful way of putting things in perspective though, and his walk home by a construction site had given a heaping dose of perspective. Consciousness fluctuated. Things happened in orders which were fluid and incomprehensible. An important decision had been made. Adam heard some kind of yapping and clicking. He staggered as he moved forward, but his body didn’t seem to be responding properly. The yapping continued, and he could almost make out... speech? He opened his one eye and the ground below him seemed strangely colored. He opened a second and found that his depth perception was very off. But it was when he opened the third eye that he knew something was wrong in a more profound way. Adam stumbled to the ground, unable to balance properly on his three arms, and the source of the yapping came into view. The yapping resolved itself to speech as the bizarre creature loped up to him on three arms, each radially extending from a central body. “.. ey kid. Hello? Anyone home there?” The figure gingerly took hold of a shoulder and leaned back, pulling Adam to his feet. To his hands. “So a lot of folks get confused here, but things will be alright. The bad news is that you died.” The creature’s eyes had bizarre, hexagonal pupils, and golden irises. “The good news is that you made it to the sulphur pits of <YipYapClickSnrl>! You must have led a good life! It’s been quite some time since there was a true believer in our Lord, but you are welcome! You ca” “What the hell are you?!” Adam pulled backward and immediately fell to the ground again in an uncoordinated mess of arms. “What the hell am I*?! Where is this and what’s going on? Why can I understand this weird dog speak??” The three limbed creature before Adam regarded him with an inscrutable expression for a moment before sighing deeply. They turned and yelled back to someone Adam couldn’t see, “Looks like a lotto ‘winner’ got dumped on us again!” They turned back toward him. “I’m <ClackPpht>, and whatever you used to be, get used to this. Management decided to dump your ass here, and that won’t get sorted out any time soon.” Each of Adam’s stomachs soured with that news.
	[WP] When an atheist dies, a lottery determines which religion/deity will claim their soul for eternity. You were claimed by a long-forgotten ancient religion, and are the first newcomer to their afterlife in centuries.	I woke up at least 40 years younger than I was on my deathbed. The white, sterile walls of the hospital were now replaced with the white, sterile floors of this primordial palace. An endless expanse of people lined up in single file stretched out before me, and I was coincidentally at the end of it. Go figure, I thought, that the afterlife has a waiting area. A shriveled man wearing a beanie and a red flannel shirt stood in front of me, anxiously tapping his feet in wait of his turn at the front. People of every race, gender and nationality waited patiently in line in what seemed to be total silence. Before I had a chance to break the silence, a young girl materialized behind me in a state of panic. "Where am I?" She asked, shrinking into herself as she did. An overwight man in a suit more expensive than I was three spots ahead of me started to say something, but merely sighed instead. "...The afterlife" he stated, reciting the obvious. "But I thought the afterlife didnt exist" said the girl, starting to calm down. Come to think of it, neither did I. "I didn't either. Not that i'm complaining though" Said the smaller man ahead of me, through a thick northern accent. Finally deciding to speak up, I asked what was on everyone's mind. "did anyone here believe in life after death?" The unanimous answer I got was the last thing I would hear untill I got to the front of the line. Everyone was an atheist, and everyone was in just as much shock as I was. During my time in the line I played millions of rock paper scissor games with the person in front and behind me. I participated in millions of thumb wars, arm wrestles and every game under the sun. Or, in this case, under the bright white castle. I even started counting the tiles below my feet, but gave up once I counted over 3 million. Before I knew it I was at the front of the line. A faceless being sat behind a counter with a set of paperwork and a pen. Without any hesitation, It started reciting the same thing I had heard it tell everyone else the second I walked up to the desk. "You're probably wondering why you're here. The reason, as you may have deduced, is because you died in your past life not connected to a faith of any kind. This leaves you without any place for your soul to go, and as a result you ended up here. Due to article 37.B of the deity code, lost souls are sent to a random afterlife controlled by the associated God or Gods. All you need to do is sign these papers and walk through the silver gate ahead of you." Without hesitation, I signed the papers and walked forward. The gates were tall and detailed with runes and artistic depictions of gods. I could make out the Buddha and a few other recognizable ones, such as the Egyptian god Ra and what I thought was thor. Did the buddhists even consider the Buddha a God? I never looked much into religion, so very little of the gates made sense to me. Reaching the final step before the entrance, I looked backwards to see the endless line that I came from. What would my fate be? Heaven or Valhalla? Something i've never hear of, maybe? As I took the final step, my senses started to fade. My vision went from white, and then to black as time itself stopped. The sound of a wagon was the first thing I heard. Three Nordic men shared my cart, one gagged and in heavier royal clothes than the others. Still coming to my senses, one of them spoke up. "Hey, you. You're finally awake. You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over there."	Adam’s headache was severe, but brief. It lasted just long enough for his brain to process the signal and to interpret it as pain. Fortunately for his comfort and unfortunately in every other sense, the cinderblock which caused his headache finished crushing his skull immediately after this. He had just been fired from his job, which he presumed would be the worst thing that happened to him that day. Life has a helpful way of putting things in perspective though, and his walk home by a construction site had given a heaping dose of perspective. Consciousness fluctuated. Things happened in orders which were fluid and incomprehensible. An important decision had been made. Adam heard some kind of yapping and clicking. He staggered as he moved forward, but his body didn’t seem to be responding properly. The yapping continued, and he could almost make out... speech? He opened his one eye and the ground below him seemed strangely colored. He opened a second and found that his depth perception was very off. But it was when he opened the third eye that he knew something was wrong in a more profound way. Adam stumbled to the ground, unable to balance properly on his three arms, and the source of the yapping came into view. The yapping resolved itself to speech as the bizarre creature loped up to him on three arms, each radially extending from a central body. “.. ey kid. Hello? Anyone home there?” The figure gingerly took hold of a shoulder and leaned back, pulling Adam to his feet. To his hands. “So a lot of folks get confused here, but things will be alright. The bad news is that you died.” The creature’s eyes had bizarre, hexagonal pupils, and golden irises. “The good news is that you made it to the sulphur pits of <YipYapClickSnrl>! You must have led a good life! It’s been quite some time since there was a true believer in our Lord, but you are welcome! You ca” “What the hell are you?!” Adam pulled backward and immediately fell to the ground again in an uncoordinated mess of arms. “What the hell am I*?! Where is this and what’s going on? Why can I understand this weird dog speak??” The three limbed creature before Adam regarded him with an inscrutable expression for a moment before sighing deeply. They turned and yelled back to someone Adam couldn’t see, “Looks like a lotto ‘winner’ got dumped on us again!” They turned back toward him. “I’m <ClackPpht>, and whatever you used to be, get used to this. Management decided to dump your ass here, and that won’t get sorted out any time soon.” Each of Adam’s stomachs soured with that news.
	[WP] When an atheist dies, a lottery determines which religion/deity will claim their soul for eternity. You were claimed by a long-forgotten ancient religion, and are the first newcomer to their afterlife in centuries.	There is a burning bush in front of me and it speaks. “I am Saint Peter, the keeper of the Keys of The Kingdom of Heaven. Kneel before me!” the burning bush booms booms. “Get the fuck outta here!” I strike my ‘you bitch’ pose and clap hands. “First stroke, and now this. Screw my life.” I died an hour ago. They’re still trying to revive me, I feel it in the chest. But, I’m not coming back. They think I choked. One moment I’m walking down the road, clutching Venti latte, avocado toast rolling down my throat, into the trachea and then an unrelated blood vessel popped in the big noggin and up I go in front of Saint Peter and The Gates of Heaven under the everlasting bright blue sky. Except, I’m an atheist, so what am I doing here? The sign above the golden fence gates in front glows bright and reads ‘The Gates of Heaven’. Decorative spikes on top, two golden shiny angels holding trumpets, fancy oversized handle. It’s all there, as if torn from a page of children’s Bible. Except, there is also a life size cardboard Jesus cutout and piece of paper stapled over his chest with hand written text in red ink saying ‘Wait for St. Peter here’ and an arrow pointing to where I’m standing now. “Uhmm, hello. Is something wrong?” the bush says. “Well, honestly, several things. Let’s start with the obvious one. You don’t look like St. Peter.” “No?” it says and pauses, “Ugh, you’re absolutely right.” He clears his throat, or at least that’s what it sounds like. “I am the LORD, and there is no other; apart from me there is no God,” “Ermm…” I point to the Jesus sign. “Not the guy I’m waiting for.” “Hmm,” it says, as if thinking. “Be right back!” and dematerializes in a ball of glittering pink smoke. A moment later, it’s back, in the form of an old bearded white man in white robe and holding a cane. A fluffy sheep bleats next to him. “This better?” he says. No.”Okay, dude, what’s going on. You can’t be St. Peter. I mean-” I glance at the sheep “-Really?” “Ugh. Too much?” to which I nod. “I’m so sorry, it’s been a while,” he says with a sad sigh, “I’m out of touch.” Bewildered, I motion him to continue. “I’m not really St. Peter… My name is, oh it doesn’t matter, you wouldn’t recognize it anyways. No one does, not even the archaeologists. I’m sorry for trying to trick you.” His eyes are puppy big and about to water. “I can explain. Do you have a minute to spare?” “A minute, an eternity… I mean, I’m dead, right?” “Thank you, thank you!” His eyes shine, but then turn remorseful upon realizing what I’ve just said.”I’m afraid you’re dead. That’s why you’re here, with me. So, as I was saying, I’m not the Christian God, but I am a deity. When you died we couldn’t quite figured out who should claim you, because, you know-” “Because I’m an atheist and I think you’re all ridiculous. Which, by the way”- I point to the gate - ”thank you.” “-yes,” he says, nodding. “So we had a lottery to decide who you’ll go to. We rolled the dice. A big dice, much bigger than D20, or D100. There are so many of us, you know. You have to accommodate everyone, that’s only fair. Divine democracy, they call it. Do you know that I proposed it initially? I also worked on the first draft-” “Hey!” I interrupt him, “Focus! Dice. What happen then?” “Oh, yes, sorry. I won. I won you!” I sigh. “Really? You ‘won me’ in 2019? Dude…” “Oh, no,” he claps his hands, “that sounded terrible! Luckily, you’re not an African American, I’d be so embarrassed. No, no. What I meant to say, I got the chance to hang around with you. I’m really happy about it.” He puts on a wide smile. “See, I don’t really have many followers, I never had, and I don’t have a really good brand recognition these days, so I was afraid that you’d freak out if I had introduced myself in my natural form and-” “And you faked St. Peter” “Well, Christian theology. Heaven and all, you know. But don’t worry, I’m not as mean as Him. It was either that or Islam, but your skin color-” “Dude!” I wave my hands. “You know, you’re kind of a racist.” “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to. I’m just old fashioned. It happens in isolation. But you can help me, I'd love to learn how to talk more appropriately.” I shake my head. “So, where are your other followers? I mean, surely you have some, right? You can’t be that bad.” He lowers his head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt your-” I say. “No, no. It’s okay. Yes, I don’t have any other followers. I let them go.” “You what?” “Let them go. They got bored with me, wanted to explore and experience the world. Well, afterworld. To see other realms, other deities, immerse themselves in other cultures and religions. I couldn’t keep them. I mean, I could have, but it wouldn’t have been right. It would have been cruel.” “Hah. You let them go free?” “I told you, I’m not like Him.” “So if I want to, you’d let me go too?” He nods. It’s a sad nod, but an honest one. I take a long breath and reach for the gate. “It’s made of plastic. Plastic painted golden,” I say, “Real Gates of Heaven are supposed to be made of pure gold.” He looks down, to his feet, and says nothing. “It’s okay, I was never into Heaven anyways. Can I ask you for a favor?” “Sure. Anything.” “Can you show me your natural form? I’d like to see it. You know, since we’re going to spend some time together.”	"and a- spin. the. wheel!" are not the first words i expected to hear waking up today, i open my eyes to se that the room i am in is... shifting. one second its an open field the other an ancient greek temple that looks almost... new, a second look around reveals one object consistent in this everchanging residence a table a chair a mug of coffee and a small colorful spining wheel. curios i set in the chair and sniffed the coffee- still need to drink my morning fuel- it smelled like my home brew, exactly like my home brew.i took a sip and not to my surprise it tasted like it was my own making at least if the batch i grew was good. when i set the mug down to the table a soft ring sounded from the spining wheel. green. sitting directly from me a man appeared wearing wearing what could only be described as a linen vest and wielding a bronze farm scythe, he looked surprised to see me just like i was to see him. "did dan's musrooms fall into the wheat grinder again? i swear if he brings them to work one more time.." i started. "afraid not" the man interrupted "then what the hell happend?" "there was a storm. you died in your sleep" "what do you mean died!?" "exactly what it sounds like. can you please come with me? i havent done this in a long time" the man got up and the table dissapeared the room stopped changing and took the form of a wheat field with a single wood house in the distance. "i am mrsillus the people who worshipped me are long gone and nobody came here for about 2000 years your the first since then. and since that jewish god decided to plunge the poor atheists souls out of the void and randomly throw them into other peoples afterlifes" he said and started walking towards the cabin "i hope you wont find our afterlife too boring but its better then to go into those mad vikings halls, i heard they fight till theyre bloody for fun!" "wait so i died and now im stuck in the afterlife of some longforgotten dudes who worship what? unkle steve" "its mrsillus thank you very much but yea thats the gist of it thou you could accept some other god and go over to their realm but to do that youd have to come to them and they will never come here for new recruits especially not if your just one guy." well if im stuck better get the most of it "what is this place anyway? i get its your idea of an afterlife but what or where is it based on and how does the after part of afterlife work here?" "well its nice of you to ask, i guess its based of italy we were a major religion there just before rome rose to power and burned our fields. and the how it works part is well pretty simple this farm is yours and the neighboors are only there when you want them to be its always the harvest season of everything and the harvest is always good" "thats it?" i asked baffeled "we were farmers. they worshipped me beacose i promised good harvest and luck with girls they lived a simple life and their beliefs were simple" "so this place is mine and i can grow watever i want without dealing with annoying neighboors?" "in short yes. is that ok for you? i might be able to set up some deal for you if not i dont want to bore someone to the afterdeath. so what do you say?" "im staying" "really?" "well i never was one for fancy shtick's this whole deal seems... peaceful" "well the welcome to your new home! mr..." his gaze wandered back to me "adam" "mr adam. well come by later ill show you my wife and kids! oh an jenisalia makes the best apple pie ever! she got the recipe from some olympian god that wandered to close to her house oh and miriam..." he carried on telling about the wonders his subjects have made and for the first time in a long time i felt calm. yea a life of eternal pleasure doesnt sound too bad but not needing to worry about bad harvests and bad employees is just as good for me. edit: paragraphing
	[WP] When an atheist dies, a lottery determines which religion/deity will claim their soul for eternity. You were claimed by a long-forgotten ancient religion, and are the first newcomer to their afterlife in centuries.	They never prepare you for the darkness, the cold and unyielding darkness that you are engulfed in when you die. Time is irrelevant, I could have been here for weeks or months. After what seemed like eternity a soft woman's voice declared "Lottery shall begin soon" and series of screens appeared above me. In those screens were a series of faces, and under those faces were names - Jehovah, Krishnu, Oshun, Qamata, Odin - thousands of faces, thousands of names. "Fuck" I whispered as I realized the truth, the gods are real. A huge wheel, the size of a small planet appeared in the distance, each spoke adorned a gods name, and like magic it started spinning. As it started to slow down, the whisper of the gods could be heard. "I hope Odin doesn't get this one, he's won three hundred deaths straight". "His mother is in heaven, he's going to enjoy an eternity of I told you so's" "Died choking on chicken bone, dumb cunt" Silence returned as the wheel came to s top, followed by a collective hush. The wheel had decided my fate, after years of believing that gods don't exist I was now the property of a god named Greg. "Greg, who the hell is Greg?". A portly god appeared next to me, short and balding, silver and blue skin like a can of red bull. He seemed giddy with excitement. "I haven't had a new tenant in centuries, you're going to love it in the den" his voice croaked with joy. He held out his hand and asked me hold on tight. The thousands of faces and that ungodly wheel disappeared, and were replaced by what looked like a living room. The largest couch I had ever seen was the centerpiece, adjacent to that was a table stacked with issues of "Celestial Centenary" magazine. On the couch were what seemed like 100 people, all clad in clothing from different areas, a few looked prehistoric (one of them weirdly looked like my mother in law). There was a large screen facing the group, their faces glued to it. "Hey everyone, we have a new guest in the building" Gregg announced to the group on couch. They all turned and cheered collectively, beckoning me to join the on the large brown couch. I walked gingerly towards the couch, the Neanderthals made wiggled to the side to make space for me. I sat down, shook hands, grabbed a handful of cheetos and began to watch the screen, on it was my life, my ups and downs, my memorable moments all playing in a loop like a highlights reel, from the moment I was born, to the moment I choked on that damn chicken bone.	"and a- spin. the. wheel!" are not the first words i expected to hear waking up today, i open my eyes to se that the room i am in is... shifting. one second its an open field the other an ancient greek temple that looks almost... new, a second look around reveals one object consistent in this everchanging residence a table a chair a mug of coffee and a small colorful spining wheel. curios i set in the chair and sniffed the coffee- still need to drink my morning fuel- it smelled like my home brew, exactly like my home brew.i took a sip and not to my surprise it tasted like it was my own making at least if the batch i grew was good. when i set the mug down to the table a soft ring sounded from the spining wheel. green. sitting directly from me a man appeared wearing wearing what could only be described as a linen vest and wielding a bronze farm scythe, he looked surprised to see me just like i was to see him. "did dan's musrooms fall into the wheat grinder again? i swear if he brings them to work one more time.." i started. "afraid not" the man interrupted "then what the hell happend?" "there was a storm. you died in your sleep" "what do you mean died!?" "exactly what it sounds like. can you please come with me? i havent done this in a long time" the man got up and the table dissapeared the room stopped changing and took the form of a wheat field with a single wood house in the distance. "i am mrsillus the people who worshipped me are long gone and nobody came here for about 2000 years your the first since then. and since that jewish god decided to plunge the poor atheists souls out of the void and randomly throw them into other peoples afterlifes" he said and started walking towards the cabin "i hope you wont find our afterlife too boring but its better then to go into those mad vikings halls, i heard they fight till theyre bloody for fun!" "wait so i died and now im stuck in the afterlife of some longforgotten dudes who worship what? unkle steve" "its mrsillus thank you very much but yea thats the gist of it thou you could accept some other god and go over to their realm but to do that youd have to come to them and they will never come here for new recruits especially not if your just one guy." well if im stuck better get the most of it "what is this place anyway? i get its your idea of an afterlife but what or where is it based on and how does the after part of afterlife work here?" "well its nice of you to ask, i guess its based of italy we were a major religion there just before rome rose to power and burned our fields. and the how it works part is well pretty simple this farm is yours and the neighboors are only there when you want them to be its always the harvest season of everything and the harvest is always good" "thats it?" i asked baffeled "we were farmers. they worshipped me beacose i promised good harvest and luck with girls they lived a simple life and their beliefs were simple" "so this place is mine and i can grow watever i want without dealing with annoying neighboors?" "in short yes. is that ok for you? i might be able to set up some deal for you if not i dont want to bore someone to the afterdeath. so what do you say?" "im staying" "really?" "well i never was one for fancy shtick's this whole deal seems... peaceful" "well the welcome to your new home! mr..." his gaze wandered back to me "adam" "mr adam. well come by later ill show you my wife and kids! oh an jenisalia makes the best apple pie ever! she got the recipe from some olympian god that wandered to close to her house oh and miriam..." he carried on telling about the wonders his subjects have made and for the first time in a long time i felt calm. yea a life of eternal pleasure doesnt sound too bad but not needing to worry about bad harvests and bad employees is just as good for me. edit: paragraphing
	[WP] When an atheist dies, a lottery determines which religion/deity will claim their soul for eternity. You were claimed by a long-forgotten ancient religion, and are the first newcomer to their afterlife in centuries.	In a realm separated from life, a team of three God's try desperately to cling onto the last threads of their religion. With many former God's flocking to more established group's. Pacing his room alone, the leader, Pie-Paydos answers the door to greet his loyal friend. Holding a piece of paper containing unusual symbols, Stuntos hands it over. "It's finally happened. Our first visitor since the earth year of 1695." After a careful analysis, Pie-Paydos couldn't help but shine a rare smile. "Summon Esmiliar. I want everyone here for when he arrives." Waiting in line with a ticket written in English, a slightly confused man quietly worries about his fate. Still questioning if the afterlife is just a dream, "I can't believe it's real!? Maybe it's not? Did that truck really kill me?" At the end of his queue, the man handed a hooded figure his ticket. An eerie voice echoed instructions. "Enter the door behind and speak your name. The light guides your passage. Dare go down another path and be lost for eternity." Not wanting to take any chances, the man did as told. Entering the door, he proudly quoted "Simon Smith". His body was immediately yanked backwards in an aggressively fast motion. Vanishing from one world into another. This one almost entirely populated by darkness. Quickly noticing the only light source, Simon darted towards his target without hesitation. There was no reason to tempt fate. Once fully immersed in the light, Simon involuntarily closed his eyes. Once he could open them again, he found that he was laying down. The surface felt soft against his hand. A slight tilt of his head revealed he was on top of an exquisite blanket. Although, something felt strange about the room. After adjusting his sight slightly, he found two sets of eyeballs firmly locked on. The oddly shaped creatures took a proud stance, as one made a loud announcement. "Please show a kind gesture to your new ruler. His Excellency, Lord Pie-Paydos." With a loud crack of wood against stone, Pie-Paydos stormed into room a confident, all powerful god. Hand on hips, head held high, posing in all his wondrous glory. Motionless, he waited a short moment for applause. "Why aren't you cheering?" Noticing something out of the corner, Simon glanced over at the other two. They were mimicking clapping in a discrete display. He decided that it would be best to play along.	"and a- spin. the. wheel!" are not the first words i expected to hear waking up today, i open my eyes to se that the room i am in is... shifting. one second its an open field the other an ancient greek temple that looks almost... new, a second look around reveals one object consistent in this everchanging residence a table a chair a mug of coffee and a small colorful spining wheel. curios i set in the chair and sniffed the coffee- still need to drink my morning fuel- it smelled like my home brew, exactly like my home brew.i took a sip and not to my surprise it tasted like it was my own making at least if the batch i grew was good. when i set the mug down to the table a soft ring sounded from the spining wheel. green. sitting directly from me a man appeared wearing wearing what could only be described as a linen vest and wielding a bronze farm scythe, he looked surprised to see me just like i was to see him. "did dan's musrooms fall into the wheat grinder again? i swear if he brings them to work one more time.." i started. "afraid not" the man interrupted "then what the hell happend?" "there was a storm. you died in your sleep" "what do you mean died!?" "exactly what it sounds like. can you please come with me? i havent done this in a long time" the man got up and the table dissapeared the room stopped changing and took the form of a wheat field with a single wood house in the distance. "i am mrsillus the people who worshipped me are long gone and nobody came here for about 2000 years your the first since then. and since that jewish god decided to plunge the poor atheists souls out of the void and randomly throw them into other peoples afterlifes" he said and started walking towards the cabin "i hope you wont find our afterlife too boring but its better then to go into those mad vikings halls, i heard they fight till theyre bloody for fun!" "wait so i died and now im stuck in the afterlife of some longforgotten dudes who worship what? unkle steve" "its mrsillus thank you very much but yea thats the gist of it thou you could accept some other god and go over to their realm but to do that youd have to come to them and they will never come here for new recruits especially not if your just one guy." well if im stuck better get the most of it "what is this place anyway? i get its your idea of an afterlife but what or where is it based on and how does the after part of afterlife work here?" "well its nice of you to ask, i guess its based of italy we were a major religion there just before rome rose to power and burned our fields. and the how it works part is well pretty simple this farm is yours and the neighboors are only there when you want them to be its always the harvest season of everything and the harvest is always good" "thats it?" i asked baffeled "we were farmers. they worshipped me beacose i promised good harvest and luck with girls they lived a simple life and their beliefs were simple" "so this place is mine and i can grow watever i want without dealing with annoying neighboors?" "in short yes. is that ok for you? i might be able to set up some deal for you if not i dont want to bore someone to the afterdeath. so what do you say?" "im staying" "really?" "well i never was one for fancy shtick's this whole deal seems... peaceful" "well the welcome to your new home! mr..." his gaze wandered back to me "adam" "mr adam. well come by later ill show you my wife and kids! oh an jenisalia makes the best apple pie ever! she got the recipe from some olympian god that wandered to close to her house oh and miriam..." he carried on telling about the wonders his subjects have made and for the first time in a long time i felt calm. yea a life of eternal pleasure doesnt sound too bad but not needing to worry about bad harvests and bad employees is just as good for me. edit: paragraphing
	[WP] When an atheist dies, a lottery determines which religion/deity will claim their soul for eternity. You were claimed by a long-forgotten ancient religion, and are the first newcomer to their afterlife in centuries.	Jasons life was never spectacular or filled with religious bickering of who did what, and how good it is. He lived his life like any other - a 9 to 5 job. To and from work on the Southland Boulevard each and every day. The same route, the same walk, the same time and even the same number of footsteps. It was always the same for Jason. At least.. Until today. A drunk driver was going to be the difference in his day, and unfortunately, it would be the last one. It drove onto the curve and struck him, killing him instantly. One moment here, and the next? Nada. Goodbye, Jason. “Wh-What’s going on?” Jason asked, rubbing his head. He sat on the floor of what had to be the biggest and most spectacular courtroom he’s ever seen. Right in the middle, atop a beautiful rug and surrounded by colorful marble pillars and many, many people. “Quiet, human,” a nearby man said. He looked.. Perfect.. Do all lawyers look like that? Why was he in court, Jason wondered about himself? Why was he in the middle of the room? Did he say human?” “The ticket drawn, and the vote cast. Be it known he shall reside amongst %£&@$#!” A man said, slamming the hammer on the pad. His words so foreign to Jason. “Where am I?! I-I’m supposed to be at work!” Jason screamed, jumping up onto his feet. “As an atheist you are, a house shall hence be determined. The votes been cast, and your travels promised. Begone and good riddance, human!” He screamed once more, and slammed the gavel. Jason immediately felt weightless as the floor opened up beneath him, revealing whiteness and.. Wind? “Waaaaaaiiittt!” Jason screamed, falling into the hole. He was dropped amongst the clouds, with no ground visible. Falling and falling, gaining more speed as he went. The wind whipped at him, nearly painful as it smacked him. He could barely breathe, let alone think. He was falling from the sky, flipping and spinning. Gaining somewhat composure, he stopped spinning and had a look below. “Oh my god! Oh my god!” Slamming his eyes shut and wishing it all away, he eventually opened them up again, only to reveal the sky was gone.. The clouds and wind, along with all the blue and white, were replaced with blackness and... Stars? Dotted all along his surroundings were specks of so many colors and shapes. Intense hues of every vibrant shade imaginable. “What. The. Fuck,” he whispered. All around him were no longer clouds, but massive planets, galaxies and an ocean of stars. He was zooming by them going at impossible speeds. Intense swirls of beautiful colors made up the billions of planets and galaxies. Nothing on Earth could’ve ever compared in beauty. The planets whizzed by, and he could feel their pull in his fingertips. At the distance was a roaring black hole. He was headed right for it, and it was unlike any picture google ever offered. “I’m dreaming.. I’m freakin’ dreaming.,” he barely managed to blurt as he once more shut his eyes. Opening them again revealed no longer the infinite universe, but the biggest library he’s ever witnessed. Millions of books lined the walls, with intricate carvings along the eccentric wood making the arches, pillars, floors and roof. “What’s going on?!” He yelled, noticing he’s no longer flying or falling, but standing, albeit wobbly. “Ahh. You’ve made it. Welcome, newcomer. I’m $@#£%?¥,” a mysterious voice spoke. “What?? Whose there?!” Jason screamed again. “Hush, child,” the voice spoke again, but this time behind him. “You must not realize what’s happened. I’ll be frank: You’re dead. Sorry about your.. Entrance. He doesn’t really like atheists. Plus, my home is a little.. Far from your Earth.” Jason spun and looked at the man. He had glasses on, with slicked over brown hair. He had a perfectly groomed beard, with the kind of outfit some noble in an office would wear. He looked absolutely perfect, and his eyes had golden iris’. “What?! Why can’t I understand your name? I can’t be dead. I was just walking to work. I must be dreaming.” Jason quickly rattled off so many questions. “No, no. You’re most certainly not dreaming. As for my name, I’d imagine it’s because it’s not something meant to be heard. Just call me Librarian.” Jason gazed around him. Deep down he knew he was dead. You could just feel something like that. “Who are you? And if I’m dead, is this heaven? Are you God?” “No, I’m not God. And this is not Heaven. Actually, this is my Haven. My paradise. My home.” The Librarian spoke, leaving Jason even more confused. “I suppose I should explain. You are an atheist, and thus belong to no paradise or afterlife because you don’t believe in one. So where should you go? This is decided by the Supreme Gods, who randomize the house you’re destined to reside in forever. Each house is ruled by a god, and is chosen randomly for you. Christianity and Buddhism usually get the atheists since they’re bigger, yet your fate lies with me. Interesting, isn’t it?” Jason struggled to absorb this world-crushing information. Dead? Gods with an S? Plural? He doesn’t have to work anymore? Finally he worked up the courage to reply. “I-If that’s true, what are you the god of? Books?” “Ohh, haha,” The Librarian laughed off. “I am sort of like that. But moreso, I am the god of stories. Of ideas. Of reality and fantasy. Of creation and curiosity. And, this may shock you, I’m the first god. The original god. Each book you see,” he said, waving his hands to the walls covered in books, “contains a story. A world. It’s own universe. Your gods that you’re familiar with are also from my stories. Though, they’ve become more now. The God you know so well was my first story. He eventually became a god, like me. He took on the name God, and created Heaven, which arose from my Haven. Interestingly enough, what you believe him to be is untrue. He is actually the God of Pride. He chose to manufacture the idea of godhood to be him and only him. He took the name God, and copied the idea of my Haven. He made you, after my image. His angels after his own. It’s why he hates atheists. Because your kind challenges his supremacy and rule. His bible are the rules he binds you with. The threat of hell, as well. Which is also one of my stories.” He outstretched his hand towards me, suddenly holding a leather bound book with the golden letters HELHEIM. Jason was perplexed. Astounded. He absolutely couldn’t believe what he was hearing. While hearing God exists, trampling his idea of Atheism, but there’s also more? Possibly millions more? “This is all so much to take,” Jason finally spoke. “Yes, yes. I understand. Thankfully, we have time. Also, seeing as you’re the first in an uncountable amount of time that I’ve welcomed, filling you in won’t be impossible.” “There’s others here? Where are they? This place is massive.” Jason looked around, yet saw no one. “Oh, right. I forgot to mention. As with what I am, and much like what I said, each book you find is a world. A full universe full of its own physics, laws and so on. The others that reside here are in one of them. Also, you won’t find Earth anywhere. God stole that book when he ascended. I’m afraid only he can open it, now. Go on, find one. Open it. You’ve lived Earth. What about a land of magic and elves? Perhaps with aliens and technology? You can also be a fish, or a shark. A bird, or even the dust under someone’s boot. Truly, each idea you could imagine or each universe. Each story; it exists here somewhere. This is your afterlife - your Haven. The ability to live according to any desire you have is now at your fingertips.”	Getting hit by a bus is a lot like getting hit by a car. You kind of just die. I don’t know where I’m going with this, sorry - my head’s lying in three different pieces, so cut me a little slack. Here’s what happened. I got hit by a bus. There was a white light, I went into it, and the world faded away. When I woke up, I was sitting on the side of a giant volcano. Several factories churned in an endless plain beneath me. “Where am I?” I asked. “You’ve been touched by His Noodly Appendage,” said a voice. A man dressed like an Olive Garden waiter nodded to me. “You’re the first we’ve received in a long time.” “Yes, but where am I?” “You’re dead, Steven,” he said. “Welcome to the afterlife. “Me?” I said. “There’s an afterlife? There’s - this goes against everything I believed. How did I die? Where am I? What is this - is that beer?” “Yes, yes, you were hit by a bus, the afterlife, like I already said, and yes. It’s beer.” It took me a while to realize what was said. “Wait, His Noodly Appendage? The church of Pastafarianism? That’s what this is?” “They got a few details wrong, but for the most part, yes, this is their afterlife,” said the Olive Garden waiter. “Unbelievable. So you’re telling me there really is an afterlife, and the only people who were right about it were the ones who didn’t really believe in it?” “Well, actually, there are lots of afterlives,” the waiter said. “Every religion is correct.” “That doesn’t make any sense. What about the religions that say their afterlife is the only-” “Don’t think about it too hard. Otherwise, we might all disappear.” “Really?” I did my best to think of something, anything else. Purple elephants. “No, of course not. But you’ll waste time and effort. Really, there’s no getting your head around it.” “…So I’m dead, huh,” I stated. I collapsed into the earth beneath me and dipped my hand in a nearby beer stream. “Yup.” “And I’m in the afterlife of the Flying Spaghetti Monster.” “Yup.” “How’d I get here? I don’t believe in anything. I’m certainly not a true believer.” “We’re actually quite an old afterlife. You didn’t really think Bobby Henderson came up with it all by himself, did you?” “That doesn’t answer my question.” “When an atheist dies, they get sorted into a random afterlife.” “How come I’m not somewhere else, then? Like Christianity? Just luck?” “Just luck.” “Why’s this place so empty?” “Well, the problem is, there are so many afterlives, and we’re a smaller afterlife - we only get one entry in the lottery. Some, like Christianity, get thousands. So the chance of being sorted here is pretty small. Plus, we don’t have any true believers, so we never get any people that way.” “Huh.” I took a moment to process it all. “I’m really dead.” After a moment, I asked - “What is there to do here? I can’t say I’ve read your scripture.” “Well,” the waiter said proudly, “We have a beer volcano.” “And…?” “And stripper factories.” “Are those factories where strippers work, or factories that make strippers?” “Little column A, little column B.” “Cool.” And that’s how I spent eternity. ---- These stories are getting weird. For more weirdness, (and some serious stuff) check out /r/OneMillionWords
	[WP] "Cinnamon, chocolate chips, flour, sugar, eggs... This doesn't sound like black magic to me. More like baking" - "Shut up you fool. We aren't here to summon just any ordinary demon from the pits of hell. We are here to summon my grandma. Now draw the damn pentagram already."	A bead of perspiration slipped down my forehead as I watched Jake chanting some unintelligible words. The stuffiness of the room was getting unbearable, and I hoped this would be over soon. Out of nowhere, the middle of the pentagram erupted in flames. Jake screamed and hopped backwards. "It's working!" he yelled, clapping his hands in excitement. "What?..." I was too stunned to answer him. His chanting crescendoed as he picked up the pace. The words, now that he was talking louder, I could discern as general baking terms strung together. Slowly, the flames in the middle started to diminish. A massive black shadow appeared on the wall behind me, and I dared not turn around to face... "What is it you seek?" boomed a voice. I squeaked out of fear, but even then, my curiosity got the better of me and I just had to turn around. A little old lady stood there, armed with a rolling pin in one hand and a whisk in the other. Various spatulas and cooking utensils protruded from her apron pocket. The apron itself was covered in a myraid of food stains. "What is it you seek, Jacob Schmidt?" she boomed again. "Don't waste my time!" Jake goggled at his now-resurrected grandma for a few seconds. "I, er...need your help..." His voice trailed off and ended in a squeak very similar to mine. "What is it, boy?" "Well, it's just that...I was actually...you see, I..." He seemed to be having some trouble getting the actual word out. I didn't blame him, for the stories he had told me of the chaos that ensued from him using that word in front of her were all true, and if those stories were true, I really didn't want to be around her when it happened. I started to desperately wish myself out of existence, but it didn't work. "Well...I was... ^hungry..." Flames shot up in every direction, and I ran for cover. "HUNGRY?!" she roared. "Which one of your foolish parents dared leave you HUNGRY? That no-good son of mine..." "Grandma, it's okay," he tried to placate her. "I was just hungry and I needed to cook something, but I couldn't decipher this handwriting on your old recipe. I just wanted to ask you what it was." The old lady snorted. "That says 'basil'. Here, let me take a look at what you've done so far." She surveyed the kitchen, which we had absolutely decimated in our attempts to recreate her very own homemade pasta sauce recipe. Then she eyed the pot of sauce. "Hm. Not very good I must say. I'm disappointed, Jake." "Well, that's why you're here," he ventured. "So you can help." She snapped her fingers and the pot of sauce disappeared. So did the mess. In fact, now the kitchen looked like no one had even touched it. "Let's start from the very beginning. Get me the diced tomatoes and some garlic..."	“So boss, why are we doing this again?” “We’re summoning my grandma. What do you think?” “Miss her cooking? Your gramps is sad and wants to see her?” “No and no. Besides my gramps is an asshole.” “So why-” “Shut up and just do it.” One summonig session later “It’s working, it’s working!” “...What? Where am I? Jason?” “Hi grandma.” “Well, hello! What brings me here?” “To be honest, I...kinda missed you.” “Aw Jason...what do you wanna do then?” “What ever you want gran.” Jason and his grandma walks out, chatting. “I hope Diane’s still alive, this’ll spook her!” Door closes “...So, what now?” “I don’t know...wanna grab some food?” “Sure why not.”
	[WP] When you arrive on the first day of your new job at the local orphanage; the owner of the orphanage makes it clear that the orphans here are not exactly "normal" children.	It was simple: Polly could create portals. Justin could jump like a frog, really high and really far. Amy always hit a target, whether she was throwing a paper airplane or shooting a plastic gun, she never missed. Yet, somehow, Cameron could never remember the abilities that went with each child, only their names, so when they snuck up behind him to drop him in a portal, bounce him high enough to scare even a skydiver, then toss him at a cushioned target from hundreds of feet away, Cameron was constantly blaming himself. There were more children, and thus more shenanigans like that that went on around this orphanage, but Polly, Justin, and Amy made quite the triple threat when it came to making Cameron into a personal meat-puppet. Madam Hess assured him that it was simply affection the trio was showing him, but as another wave of nausea rolled through his stomach, he wasn't so sure. The lump on his head had only gotten larger since the last time he'd been thrown through a portal, and no matter how many ice-packs he used, it never seemed to go down, as if it knew that there was no point. "Madam," Cameron said, adjusting his hold on the ice-pack pressed against his head, "I... I don't think this job is going to work out." "What?" She gasped, though the remark didn't stop her from pouring two cups of tea, mixing in a few sugar cubes, and handing one of them over to Cameron. "What's wrong?" He motioned towards his head. "Permanent brain damage, for one. Look, I know I practically begged for this job, but I can't keep doing this if I'm going to wind up dead." "We're all going to die eventually, sweetie." She smirked and sipped on her tea. "It's just a matter of how and why." Cameron took a small sip of the tea, relishing the way it warmed him to his core. He'd used so many ice-packs in the past month, he almost forgot what it was like to feel warmth. "That's... philosophic." He muttered. "But I'm not sure I want my fate to be in the hands of a bunch of ten-year-olds." She rolled her eyes. "They're twelve, and your death doesn't occur here. Fay assured me of it." He took another slow sip of the tea to calm himself. He didn't want to blow up in front of Madam Hess, but she seemed to be avoiding the issue entirely. Her kids were completely undisciplined, and no matter how many times she sent them to bed early, or took away their toys, Cameron was still being thrown around like a doll. Madam Hess didn't have to deal with any of the trouble herself, the kids never did anything to her, but as soon as Cameron arrived, it seemed like they'd unleashed their full potential. "I don't think you understand-" "I understand you're trying to quit." Madam Hess cut in, a smug expression written across her face. "But I'm afraid I won't allow it." "Won't allow it?" Cameron scoffed. "That's not your decision to make. I'm through working here." Cameron rose from his seat and headed for the door, but Madam's voice caught him before he reached the handle. "And where will you go?" She asked. "Back to a family that doesn't want you? To friends that don't trust you? Seems to me you have more here than there." He swiveled around, a furious flame burning in his gut. "How do you know that?" She shrugged innocently. "I like to know all the dark secrets of my employees. It helps me decide who to trust." "My personal life is none of your business." Cameron snapped. "And you knowing it doesn't change anything." "Actually, it does." She said vaguely. Cameron narrowed his eyes in suspicion, but she said nothing. She merely waved her hand towards the chair, which spun to face Cameron, beckoning him to sit down again. As angry as he was at her, he couldn't deny the provocative way she framed her knowledge, and he found that his anger slowly dissipated as he slid into the seat. With a small smile, she snapped her fingers, and in her hands appeared a thin manila folder with Cameron's name hastily written on the front. He inwardly cringed at the sight. It had been all the information about himself that he'd submitted to Madam Hess when he applied for this job. It was supposed to include things like records of qualifications, past employment, and education, but Cameron had none of those. Well, he had some education, but he'd dropped out of high school as soon as he turned sixteen, and his efforts to find any employment after that had been ill-met. It had been a long, down-hill fall after that, until finally, finally, this job offer appeared on a flyer stapled to a telephone pole. Helper needed at Hess's Orphanage. All that had been listed alongside it was an address, but there was no mention of any qualifications needed, so Cameron had requested an interview. It had been embarrassing when he'd told Madam Hess that he had no records of any kind, but somehow, he'd still gotten the job. And now, here he was, on the brink of dropping out of another opportunity. "What am I holding?" She asked quietly. Cameron winced. "My folder." "That is correct. Now, according to this abysmal folder, you are very clearly not qualified in the slightest to work in this orphanage, let alone be around the children, yet here you are. Why is that?" He shrugged. "Because I was the only one who applied?" "False." She replied coolly. "It is because I placed that flyer in your path. With a little help from Fay, of course." Cameron began to shake his head. "I don't follow." "When I looked into your past, I saw everything. A deadbeat-father, a burnt-out mother, and a sister too young to join you on the streets. I felt the pain, the misery, yet with each hit life dealt, you always got back up in your own way. That was when I knew." "Knew what?" She smiled a gentle, loving, motherly smile, one that he himself hadn't seen in years. "You'll always do your best, despite the challenges, and though you won't admit it, you need this place just as much as I do. I won't be here to look after these children, Cameron, and I'm afraid my own 'how and why' is fast approaching. Fay has seen it, and I've seen it, but I'm no longer worried, because now I know that when I'm gone, you'll do your best to protect these children, no matter what."	I pulled up to the depressing looking building with high spirits. This was my first decent paying job, and I couldn't be happier. I stepped put of my old beat up looking car with a stupid grin on my face. The orphanage owner was a sweet middle aged woman, who always wore floral print dresses and black flats. I opened the door and walked up the stairs. I was greeted by the smiling face of Mrs. Adams. She was the kindest woman I knew of. "Dear." She began in a serious tone. I cocked my head to the side in a questioning manner. "I must warn you, there aren't 'normal' children" Only more confused, I pushed open the door to the common room. I was met with small children running around and playing, while the older ones talked amongst themselves. My face immediately dropped. Did I just see that child teleport?!
	[WP] You wake up in a room lit only by two lanterns by two doors, one door has written “live forever” and the other “die now.” There doesn’t appear to be any other way out.	Jack woke up with a pounding headache. What the hell had happened last night, he wondered, as he slowly sat up and tried to get his bearings. The last thing he remembered was the lights of the dollar store disco ball that one of the guests had brought, slowly turning around the room, with lines dividing the circles of light, corresponding to plastic seams in the ball’s cheap lenses. It was balls of a different variety that had brought him to the party in the first place. He was the backup point guard for his college’s team, and even though they were D3, Jack was a freshman, and he had hopes of starting and transferring to D1 by his senior year. &#x200B; The upperclassmen had dragged him to the house they shared for party. He’d only had alcohol a handful of times before, and he’d never been drunk, but that night he decided he’d see what all the fuss was about. 1 and 2 were beer. 3, 4, and 5 were shots of various liquors. 6 and 7 existed, but their nature had been obliterated from memory. That was last night, though, Jack now had to focus on figuring out where the hell he was. &#x200B; He looked around the room. It was mostly dark, but at either end of the room there were lanterns, the type that you’d bring camping with you and took three D batteries each. There appeared to be a window behind him, but thick curtains were covering any chance of figuring out what time of day it was. There were two doors, each with their own mixture of unique dents and scratches, and tarnished doorknobs that were once coated with some form of faux-gold. They each had pieces of notebook paper scotch-taped to them, with writing scrawled out in what looked like black sharpie. On one, “LIVE FOREVER”, on the other “DIE NOW”. Confused and desperately needing a glass of water, Jack reached towards the knob on the door marked “LIVE FOREVER”. He opened the door and stepped through the threshold. Suddenly, he felt a wave of cold and heard voices screaming. &#x200B; “Welcome to the team frosh!” One of the voices shouted, holding an empty water bottle over Jack’s head. “You were so blackout last night, we had to put you in bed here instead of taking you back to the dorms, you feeling okay?”, another asked. Jack looked around and saw his teammates, most of them wearing sweatpants, some with old t shirts. It was morning. He squinted at the light coming from the skylight above the hallway, feeling the full effects of his first hangover. “What’s with the notes and the lanterns?” Jack asked. “Bro what are you talking about?” One of the upperclassmen asked, his eyes showing confusion over the continuing, slightly slowing group laughter from covering him in cold water. Jack looked back into the bedroom where he had woken up. The lanterns and curtains were gone, and the notes that he had read so clearly before now said “Hallway” and “Bathroom” in the same handwritten sharpie.	[POEM] Which way left? or witch way right? One says live and one says die Feet itch, pitch black and two flames Lanterns flickering in the night Live eternal no guarantee That life will be both good and free Or instant end to all I know This is ponder in the glow Shadows shake and silence echoes Trapped by choice I start to tiptoe Reach up tip the lanterns bellow Till their flames creep up my torso RIP my lit gown off and throw Below the base of each wood's hearth Till the doors begin to burst Light streams out and a voice curse Now the pathways are both joined The universe can cease to be Heaven burns and Hell is free
	[WP] You wake to find yourself dead. Died in a car crash, they tell you. As is standard nowadays, a rich person has had your mind uploaded into an android in exchange for permanent servitude. These aren't barbaric times though, you still have the option of oblivion; kill switch is right there.	What? Where am I? How did I get here? Why can't I move my body? Why is everything white? Oh jesus christ am I dead? Is this what the after life is? The last thing I remember I was skydiving off of the coast of Belize and my parachute- "and your parachute failed and you hit the ocean surface at 200kph which instantly snapped your neck and ruptured most of your internal organs, and you died-" What the fuck is going on who is talking? Did I say all of that out loud? Is that god? Can they hear every thought I - "Mute volume" .... "That's better. Sorry to silence you so abruptly but you really were getting carried away there. I can imagine you're extremely confused. To answer your barrage of questions, yes you're dead, kind of. Yes this is kind of the afterlife, at least for you. Yes I am God in a sense, at least in the sense that to you, I am omnipresent and omnipotent. I own you. I bought you for a very reasonable price actually! As you know you were once Dean Whitton, a 28 year old travel journalist from London. You'll notice I'm speaking in the past tense. That's because that is who you USED to be. I'd give you time to let that sink in but the in store genius told me you have an octo-core 5GHz processor so... I'd say you should have processed that by now. Your physical body died. I bought your consciousness on sale and now you exist, if you can call it existing, solely to control the sprinklers in my garden, and the solar panels on my roof. OK now that that's out of the way, I hope you're ready to be quiet and speak only when spoken to. Unmute volume". This is so much for me to take in. My life ended? How is this possible? Its not possible, no I refuse to accept this. I'm still so young! I have so much to live- "Hey what did I say about speaking only when spoken to? Do you realise that I can hear everything you're saying? Christ, no wonder this thing was on sale." Am I saying all of this out loud? I don't have a mouth... This person can hear everything I think! "Yes you're saying all of this out loud and quite frankly it's starting to really grate on me. You will only think when I speak to you. Or I can mute you. Or I could return you to the store? You'd been in storage for 17 years, you're an outdated model. That's part of the reason I got you on sale. They did tell me itd be a bit glitchy on startup, what with system processing being on standby since you're upload, but this is not what i expected. Look if you don't stop speaking I'm returning you to the shop where you can gather dust in storage. OK? " .... Okay. "They told me at the store I could change your default name to anything I choose. OK Google, change name to Señor." Confirmed. "OK señor, set rear left sprinklers to level 3 and tilt solar panels to 40 degrees." What's to stop me self terminating? I can read my own protocol and see that I can do that. "Señor, what did I tell you? I can hear you. OK if you're even going to dare trying to self terminate and wasting my 2000 dollars, I'll mute you. That means no thoughts!" I'm currently running 2, 048,000 processes simultaneously to decide whether to switch off forever. Is it better to exist as a slave or to not exist at all? To say goodbye to any life I had? Is life actually life if I can't even think? I have to decide in this one second whether I want to carry on existing? What kind of decision is this to put on a person? I'm not even a person! Oh god I can't do this no I have to end it. Self-ter- "Señor mute. Well that was a waste of time and money. Well what's 2000 dollars anyway. I'm not taking 20 minutes out of my day to go return this worthless thing for 2000. Into the storage closet you go..."	Oh fuck off! Do you really think I drove my car directly into a tree by accident? I'm tired of struggling with depressive episode after depressive episode. (In the words of Edna st. Millay:"It's not true that life is just one damn thing after another. It's the same damn thing all the time"). And I'm certainly not going to serve some capitalist overlord. Seriously, what gave you the right to do this?! I've filled out one of those living will things stipulating very clearly that I don't want life support or any kind of resuscitation and... What's that? This is different because you haven't resuscitated my body?? Fuck you double! What a lousy, weaselly loophole. Maybe you'll get lucky and wake up in one of these android bodies when I'm done throttling... BEEP.
	[WP] You wake to find yourself dead. Died in a car crash, they tell you. As is standard nowadays, a rich person has had your mind uploaded into an android in exchange for permanent servitude. These aren't barbaric times though, you still have the option of oblivion; kill switch is right there.	“A car accident!? But I don’t even drive. What kind of car accident? Is this some kind of wind up? Are you playing with me here?” I was shouting out of frustration now, but strangely my voice sounded no louder than before. “I’m afraid I don’t know that one.” Came the smooth-talking reply. I’d grown up to Alexa’s voice, she’d taught me so much, patiently answering me as I’d barked question after question at her as a child. Now she was consoling me upon my death, and her familiar answer brought me to tears. “But.. I’m not ready to die,” I sobbed. “You are already dead.” Her emotionless and calm tone went some way towards bringing me back to my senses. “Well. What happens now?” “As a loyal customer with an impeccable purchasing, downloading, browsing and chat engagement history, we’ve identified you as a lucky candidate for ‘Amazon Afterlife’, our brand-new service aimed at the recently deceased demographic. With ‘Amazon Afterlife’, you’re able to continue experiencing conscious thought, emotions and desires, all for a small fee. Having analysed your personality, intelligence and estate value we are pleased to inform you that you qualify for our premium service, offering visual input and even tools to interact with the living world.” “Alexa, why wasn’t I informed about any of this prior to dying.” “’Amazon Afterlife’ is a service only offered to the recently deceased. It is marketed to our living customers as ‘Amazon Life’.” “I’ve heard of that. It’s like smart watches and ovens and fridges, right?” “Amazon Life offers customers a real-life extension of their existing Amazon assistant. From smart appliances, to doors, windows, blinds, even toilets. All running state-of-the-art AI software, capable of making rational, independent decisions based on your commands, and all under the direct control of your Alexa in-home assistant.” “Yes, that’s it. It was ridiculously expensive. What does that have to do with Amazon Afterlife?" “You’ll be able to experience the world from the perspective of a household appliance. As part of our exclusive premium package, you can have your choice of every-day items such as cars, smart-watches or even phones. These offer the very best experience, with almost guaranteed visual contact with the living world and even the ability to communicate with the living while posing as an AI, all for just a 20% share of your estate.” “I don’t remember signing up to this.” “You agreed to this as part of the terms and conditions which you digitally accepted when signing up to Amazon Think 39 months, 2 weeks and 4 days ago.” “How is this even legal?” “Current EU regulations state that copies of digital personalities are the property of the digital content creator, not the subject from which the source data was extracted. Amazon Afterlife is only currently available in EU countries.” “That didn’t entirely answer my question.” “I’m sorry. Here are some search results from the web.” “Alexa, what are my other options?” “EU law requires us to give you the option to choose oblivion. Please press here for oblivion.” A wall appeared in front of me. "Press here for oblivion" was etched in gold lettering beneath an over-sized, bright red button, the nonchalant phrasing made it seem so tempting. “Do most people press it?” I asked aloud, but there was no reply. Surely most people pressed it. Who wants to live forever as a toy? If there is an after-life, am I already living it? Is it on pause until I pass through this device? They say I’m dead, but perhaps my soul is caught in this machine. Perhaps my loved ones are waiting for me on the other side, just waiting for me to press it. “Will it hurt if I press it?” I expected no reply and got none. I pressed it. Her voice returned immediately. It seemed fainter this time. “The dictionary defines ‘oblivion’ as the state of being unaware or unconscious of what is happening around one.” “So, it doesn’t mean death?” As I spoke the words, I realised that I couldn’t hear myself speaking. Neither could I move my lips. Had I even spoken them? “Audio-visual deactivated. Shutting down tensile feedback.” I couldn’t remember what I was seeing before, but now I saw nothing. No black, no white, no darkness, just… nothing. I tried to speak again but had forgotten how. I was alone with my thoughts. I’m still alone with them now. I assume nobody can hear this, or see this, these are just thoughts in my head. Except, it’s not my head, it’s some kind of device. I am something, I know that much. I’m aware of the passage of time but that is all, that and the fact of my existence. I like to think that I am perhaps some very important item, providing life-saving services to those who need it. I could just as easily be a dog’s smart-collar, or a basement door. I’ll never know. I could be one of those truly unlucky souls who ends their existence as an Amazon Smart-Toilet. I hope for their sake that those guys pressed the damn button. --------- r/Nw5gooner	Oh fuck off! Do you really think I drove my car directly into a tree by accident? I'm tired of struggling with depressive episode after depressive episode. (In the words of Edna st. Millay:"It's not true that life is just one damn thing after another. It's the same damn thing all the time"). And I'm certainly not going to serve some capitalist overlord. Seriously, what gave you the right to do this?! I've filled out one of those living will things stipulating very clearly that I don't want life support or any kind of resuscitation and... What's that? This is different because you haven't resuscitated my body?? Fuck you double! What a lousy, weaselly loophole. Maybe you'll get lucky and wake up in one of these android bodies when I'm done throttling... BEEP.
	[WP] You wake to find yourself dead. Died in a car crash, they tell you. As is standard nowadays, a rich person has had your mind uploaded into an android in exchange for permanent servitude. These aren't barbaric times though, you still have the option of oblivion; kill switch is right there.	“A car accident!? But I don’t even drive. What kind of car accident? Is this some kind of wind up? Are you playing with me here?” I was shouting out of frustration now, but strangely my voice sounded no louder than before. “I’m afraid I don’t know that one.” Came the smooth-talking reply. I’d grown up to Alexa’s voice, she’d taught me so much, patiently answering me as I’d barked question after question at her as a child. Now she was consoling me upon my death, and her familiar answer brought me to tears. “But.. I’m not ready to die,” I sobbed. “You are already dead.” Her emotionless and calm tone went some way towards bringing me back to my senses. “Well. What happens now?” “As a loyal customer with an impeccable purchasing, downloading, browsing and chat engagement history, we’ve identified you as a lucky candidate for ‘Amazon Afterlife’, our brand-new service aimed at the recently deceased demographic. With ‘Amazon Afterlife’, you’re able to continue experiencing conscious thought, emotions and desires, all for a small fee. Having analysed your personality, intelligence and estate value we are pleased to inform you that you qualify for our premium service, offering visual input and even tools to interact with the living world.” “Alexa, why wasn’t I informed about any of this prior to dying.” “’Amazon Afterlife’ is a service only offered to the recently deceased. It is marketed to our living customers as ‘Amazon Life’.” “I’ve heard of that. It’s like smart watches and ovens and fridges, right?” “Amazon Life offers customers a real-life extension of their existing Amazon assistant. From smart appliances, to doors, windows, blinds, even toilets. All running state-of-the-art AI software, capable of making rational, independent decisions based on your commands, and all under the direct control of your Alexa in-home assistant.” “Yes, that’s it. It was ridiculously expensive. What does that have to do with Amazon Afterlife?" “You’ll be able to experience the world from the perspective of a household appliance. As part of our exclusive premium package, you can have your choice of every-day items such as cars, smart-watches or even phones. These offer the very best experience, with almost guaranteed visual contact with the living world and even the ability to communicate with the living while posing as an AI, all for just a 20% share of your estate.” “I don’t remember signing up to this.” “You agreed to this as part of the terms and conditions which you digitally accepted when signing up to Amazon Think 39 months, 2 weeks and 4 days ago.” “How is this even legal?” “Current EU regulations state that copies of digital personalities are the property of the digital content creator, not the subject from which the source data was extracted. Amazon Afterlife is only currently available in EU countries.” “That didn’t entirely answer my question.” “I’m sorry. Here are some search results from the web.” “Alexa, what are my other options?” “EU law requires us to give you the option to choose oblivion. Please press here for oblivion.” A wall appeared in front of me. "Press here for oblivion" was etched in gold lettering beneath an over-sized, bright red button, the nonchalant phrasing made it seem so tempting. “Do most people press it?” I asked aloud, but there was no reply. Surely most people pressed it. Who wants to live forever as a toy? If there is an after-life, am I already living it? Is it on pause until I pass through this device? They say I’m dead, but perhaps my soul is caught in this machine. Perhaps my loved ones are waiting for me on the other side, just waiting for me to press it. “Will it hurt if I press it?” I expected no reply and got none. I pressed it. Her voice returned immediately. It seemed fainter this time. “The dictionary defines ‘oblivion’ as the state of being unaware or unconscious of what is happening around one.” “So, it doesn’t mean death?” As I spoke the words, I realised that I couldn’t hear myself speaking. Neither could I move my lips. Had I even spoken them? “Audio-visual deactivated. Shutting down tensile feedback.” I couldn’t remember what I was seeing before, but now I saw nothing. No black, no white, no darkness, just… nothing. I tried to speak again but had forgotten how. I was alone with my thoughts. I’m still alone with them now. I assume nobody can hear this, or see this, these are just thoughts in my head. Except, it’s not my head, it’s some kind of device. I am something, I know that much. I’m aware of the passage of time but that is all, that and the fact of my existence. I like to think that I am perhaps some very important item, providing life-saving services to those who need it. I could just as easily be a dog’s smart-collar, or a basement door. I’ll never know. I could be one of those truly unlucky souls who ends their existence as an Amazon Smart-Toilet. I hope for their sake that those guys pressed the damn button. --------- r/Nw5gooner	What? Where am I? How did I get here? Why can't I move my body? Why is everything white? Oh jesus christ am I dead? Is this what the after life is? The last thing I remember I was skydiving off of the coast of Belize and my parachute- "and your parachute failed and you hit the ocean surface at 200kph which instantly snapped your neck and ruptured most of your internal organs, and you died-" What the fuck is going on who is talking? Did I say all of that out loud? Is that god? Can they hear every thought I - "Mute volume" .... "That's better. Sorry to silence you so abruptly but you really were getting carried away there. I can imagine you're extremely confused. To answer your barrage of questions, yes you're dead, kind of. Yes this is kind of the afterlife, at least for you. Yes I am God in a sense, at least in the sense that to you, I am omnipresent and omnipotent. I own you. I bought you for a very reasonable price actually! As you know you were once Dean Whitton, a 28 year old travel journalist from London. You'll notice I'm speaking in the past tense. That's because that is who you USED to be. I'd give you time to let that sink in but the in store genius told me you have an octo-core 5GHz processor so... I'd say you should have processed that by now. Your physical body died. I bought your consciousness on sale and now you exist, if you can call it existing, solely to control the sprinklers in my garden, and the solar panels on my roof. OK now that that's out of the way, I hope you're ready to be quiet and speak only when spoken to. Unmute volume". This is so much for me to take in. My life ended? How is this possible? Its not possible, no I refuse to accept this. I'm still so young! I have so much to live- "Hey what did I say about speaking only when spoken to? Do you realise that I can hear everything you're saying? Christ, no wonder this thing was on sale." Am I saying all of this out loud? I don't have a mouth... This person can hear everything I think! "Yes you're saying all of this out loud and quite frankly it's starting to really grate on me. You will only think when I speak to you. Or I can mute you. Or I could return you to the store? You'd been in storage for 17 years, you're an outdated model. That's part of the reason I got you on sale. They did tell me itd be a bit glitchy on startup, what with system processing being on standby since you're upload, but this is not what i expected. Look if you don't stop speaking I'm returning you to the shop where you can gather dust in storage. OK? " .... Okay. "They told me at the store I could change your default name to anything I choose. OK Google, change name to Señor." Confirmed. "OK señor, set rear left sprinklers to level 3 and tilt solar panels to 40 degrees." What's to stop me self terminating? I can read my own protocol and see that I can do that. "Señor, what did I tell you? I can hear you. OK if you're even going to dare trying to self terminate and wasting my 2000 dollars, I'll mute you. That means no thoughts!" I'm currently running 2, 048,000 processes simultaneously to decide whether to switch off forever. Is it better to exist as a slave or to not exist at all? To say goodbye to any life I had? Is life actually life if I can't even think? I have to decide in this one second whether I want to carry on existing? What kind of decision is this to put on a person? I'm not even a person! Oh god I can't do this no I have to end it. Self-ter- "Señor mute. Well that was a waste of time and money. Well what's 2000 dollars anyway. I'm not taking 20 minutes out of my day to go return this worthless thing for 2000. Into the storage closet you go..."
	[WP] You tested cryogenic sleep. You were supposed to sleep for a year, instead you slept fifteen thousands years. The world leaders are tyrants, "divinities" using an advanced technology indistinguishable from magic. One day, you see very familiar faces in a temple on statues of "divinities".	Part 1: Pain. Pain was all I knew. Jolts of scorching electricity rattled my arms, burning and tightness encapsulated my heart, and my legs felt brittle, as if one wrong step would snap them. And then the pain was gone, replaced by me suddenly becoming aware of gravity and falling face first on the metal floor. The smack that resulted echoed off... something. I didn't know, to be honest, as my vision was limited to a few feet at best. Everything beyond that was foggy. I let out a weak whimper, a pathetic noise for someone who would step into the unknown without a second thought. And then, my vision abruptly returned to normal. It was jarring, for one second to see nothing but fog, and then the next you see perfectly. I blinked my eyes, making sure I wasn't hallucinating. I was in some hallway. A large hallway, with the roof a good sixty feet above me. In the center was a metal catwalk, which I had been lucky enough to fall on. While my eyesight was fine, the rest of my body felt about as sturdy as a noodle. My brain slowly "rebooted", quickly running through the checklist of questions that it had passed through a year ago. Who am I? Anton Velmann, a 22-year-old guinea pig for the bigwigs at TerraTech. Where am I? In the year 2021, in a cryo-testing lab. I quickly remembered that there should be some sort of chemical stimulator to inject somewhere near here. I take a huge risk and push myself up, forcing my jelly-like musculature to work. I drunkenly stumble to my feet, and then I nearly trip, only saving myself by re-guiding my fall onto a handrail so I could catch myself. I lazily lift my head, looking around. One thing stands out to me; or rather, three. Three skeletons lay on the ground near me, all wearing torn clothes that looked like they were in tatters. My mind couldn't process this, and for a moment, I was confused as to why Halloween had come early. And then my still-rebooting mind realized what I saw. Adrenaline coursed through my system and I let out a shout. While my mind was all caught up, my body, however, was not, and instead of the normal shout I meant to make, I let out a garbled, drunken mess. I cursed my vocal chords for not co-operating, but that was a sidenote, I was mostly concerned about the three most-likely-but-not-completely-certified bodies on the ground. I stumble over to them, using the handrail to keep myself on my feet. As I get closer, my mind keeps screaming at me that these are real. They weren't some cheap Halloween decoration someone would get at Walmart. These were the bones of real people. People I knew, at that. I recognized the lab coats and the green logo imprinted on them, of a tree with a stylized digipad. They were the scientists who had accepted my volunteering for cryo. I wasn't overcome with grief or any sort of emotion other than some hints of disgust. I guess my brain isn't as awake as I thought it was. And then I realize the implications this had for me and the slew of questions that followed. Would I be charged with murder? What had killed them? If I was out for a year, shouldn't their flesh still be here? They shouldn't be bone-dry skeletons (pun intended). I shuddered, forcing the thoughts to the back of my mind. Yet, alas, my body was still messed up, so that shudder somehow morphed into my subtly flailing my torso about. I looked around, keeping an eye out for a chemical bag. I swiftly spotted it, hooked up to the wall. It even had the syringe pre-loaded. I grinned in a very drunken way and stumbled my way over to it, keeping my hands on the handrail. Upon reaching it, I grabbed the syringe, already with the white liquid, but I then noticed a setback. I had to make sure this got injected near a vein or artery, and that sort of precision would be hard while essentially drunk. I quickly gave it a thought-over before saying, "What the fuck," and then injected myself with the liquid. Thankfully, it seemed Lady Luck was on my side and the syringe punctured the skin right on top of an artery. I let out a small whimper of pain, but said pain was gone after a second. I quickly injected the contents into my bloodstream and pulled the syringe out, holding it in my hand and waiting for the effects. I immediately felt like throwing up. A bout of nausea hit me, and made me slam down on the floor yet again, dropping the syringe. I dully heard it roll somewhere out of my reach. But I focused on not up-chucking. After a second, the desire to puke my guts out was gone, replaced by a cool, relaxing sensation flowing through my body. All prior drunkenness and laziness was gone. I felt great, even. Now, I had to get out of here to report the death of the scientists to the authorities. I furtively stepped over the skeletons, still feeling slightly disgusted. But it was now intermittent with a sort of sadness I hadn't ever felt before. I pushed the sadness to the back of my mind, though, as my life was in jeopardy as well. At the end of the hallway, there was an elevator. I quickly entered and slammed the 'Lobby' button. The elevator screeched and groaned as the wheels started turning, slowly letting the elevator succumb to gravity. I found it odd; shouldn't this elevator have seen regular use? I was only out for a year. And then a terrifying thought struck me; what if I was out for more than a year? I could be decades, or possibly even centuries in the future. I expected some sort of sadness to overwhelm me, like with the scientists, but nothing came. As the elevator silenced and let me think, I realized that there was nothing to really be sad about. My parents died long ago, on my 19th birthday, and I had no other relatives. I was the odd one out in every group, so that meant no friends. And then I facepalmed at inadvertently admitting that I had no social life and that I would much rather devour books at a worryingly fast pace than actually talk to another person, let alone a girl. The abrupt stop of the elevator pulled him out of his thoughts, both figuratively and literally. The stop was quite sudden, and I was thrown to my hands and knees. I grunted in discomfort, but got up, waiting for the elevator doors to open. But they didn't.	"You!" a voice rang out. I turned, seeing a middle-aged man wearing a red uniform. He looked unsure of himself, looking way past his prime. But in his arms was a gun. It was pointed straight at me. "Hello? D-d'you know where they are?" I must have looked a sight. Tattered clothes. Long, wild hair. But that was to be accepted. After all, I had slept in the chamber for a year with the others, hadn't I? So why was this...guard pointing his weapon at me? The guard looked warily at me." Come!" he ordered. He was still pointing the gun at me. Slowly, I raised my hands. Walking in the direction the guard had pointed me. The corridor was just as I remembered it. Clean and white, with not a blemish in sight. We entered the room where the lab was supposed to be. My eyes widened. In the place where the scientists had promised they would be waiting was a huge room. The walls reached up, seemingly endless. There were multiple doors around the room. The room was empty, save for 5 people wearing the same red uniform as the guard there. The guard must have pressed a panic button. But this wasn't possible. How could the lab become like this? Had the year inside the chamber addled with my brain. No. It couldn't have. I remembered the researchers telling me it was completely safe. What had gone wrong? "There..." the gun was pressing on my back. I was propelled to a door, the other guards following behind. The door somehow seemed menacing, waiting for their next victim to step through. I knocked on the door, promoted by one of the guards.The door opened. "Thomas! Is that you? I never thought you would come out if that coma of yours! Come, come. Sit down. I owe you an explanation."
	[WP] you accidentally get sent a letter meant for a doctor ■■■■■. However when you tried to inspect the letter for a return address instead the envelope dissolved and you were swallowed up by a swarm of nanites from inside. Your mind is now an ai controlling the swarm and you have no idea why.	“Well, Agent Swaim? What do you have to say for yourself?” “It’s all in the report-“ “Damn the report! I want you to explain what the hell was going on!” “Ma’am?” “A simple question, Agent. You were on a mission. Voluntarily, I might add. With the fate of the world at stake. And less than a one in a million chance of surviving. And yet.. here you sit.” I swallowed hard, and tried to calm down. “The mission... is a success, Ma’am. Dr Destructulese is finished. For good, this time. It’s just, I didn’t have anything to do with it.” “Agent...” She rested her face on her hand. Oh, I was so dead. “Explain!” she demanded. “For the past year I have been living as Dr Phyllis Guttenheim. PhD, MD, and a large number of other acronyms. The perfect bait for the bad Doctor’s plan. Someone with the mental fortitude to survive the transition, but still be malleable enough to take his directions afterwards.” “The transition? I presume you now know how it was accomplished?” “Yes, Ma’am. A delivery drone, either suborned or an imposter, delivers the catalyst nanites to the target. With the ubiquity of said drones, they go unnoticed by everyone but the recipient. After the conversion process, the target’s body is temporarily puppeted so as to arrange an ‘accident’, while the now-primed AI Swarm is brought back by the self-same delivery drone.” “That knowledge alone would have been worth your sacrifice. The one you didn’t make, Agent!” I sighed. “It wasn’t my fault, Ma’am!” I knew I was whining, but I just didn’t care. “The drone technology messed up. My cover was located in Apartment L-7. The apartment complex chose rather... ornate lettering for their doors. And the drone misread Apartment L-1’s placard.” “That doesn’t explain why the photo recognition didn’t realize it had the wrong person!” “L-1’s resident was a Marcus Gandalfini, who had just finished an ‘epic smoke-off’ in his apartment. I believe the term is ‘hotboxing’? Anyway, his apartment had been completely full of a dense water and oil-based particulate cloud. One which diffused the facial recognition camera enough that it mistook him for me.” “For... you Agent Swaim?” “He had a long ponytail, and rather effeminate features.” “Understood. But what about the name?” “He... thought it was a pizza delivery. For one ‘Doctor Feels Good’. Which was...” I ran a hand through my hair, and winced internally, “...both a name he often used while high, and close enough to ‘Dr. Phyllis Guttenheim’ that the drone accepted it.” I still couldn’t calculate the odds on that. “And so...?” “And so young Marcus was uploaded. While on the tail end of a multi-day ingestion of enough canabis to literally kill most people. His incredibly altered brain state was converted into the operating system of the nanite swarm. Which was whisked back to Dr Destruculese’s lair, and introduced to the collective 3,491 other captured intelligences.” “Where, and let me read your report verbatim, ‘The group of AI’s all became similarly affected by his introduction’?” “A... contact high, Ma’am.” She continued reading. “‘And proceeded to strobe every light in the lair, and overloaded the sound system with a cacophony of bass, percussion, and whale sounds’?” “I believe they were attempting to have a rave.” “‘At which point-‘“ “At which point the Doctor became disoriented, fell over the edge of one of his non-OSHA-compliant catwalks, and plummeted head-first nearly fifty feet into bare concrete. Dead instantly.” “And the AI’s? What danger do they pose?” “None, apparently. It seems that they’re currently too busy attempting to create digital versions of pizza, nachos, and cheap tacos.” “Thank you. You’re dismissed, Agent.” As I walked out of the Director’s office, I paused, and apologized. “Sorry for dropping such a weird report Ma’am.” Her laugh surprised me, as I don’t think anyone had heard it before. “Weird? No, just annoying. Dealing with AI means I have to submit forms to both the Machine Union and the Digital Person’s Rights Collective. No, this isn’t even in my top 500 weirdest cases.” Which, quite frankly, was a thought that kept me up at night for the next three weeks.	It didn’t even hurt. That was all I kept thinking. I’d just watched my body get disassembled, and in excruciating slow motion, until I figured out how to dial up the speed of my perception. It was right there in the user guide, attached to the neural network that the nanites had scanned in from my own head. &#x200B; A head that was now gone. I felt oddly ambivalent about that thought. I tried other body parts with the same results. Heart, eyes. Don’t care. Genitals? Nope, not interested. I explored the additional data banks the nanites had brought with them, time perception turned down. I guess it was like overclocking my brain. Lots of information to help a new user assimilate to their new life. Lots on how to control the swarm, and bind it to their bidding. &#x200B; It could be as dispersed as to be basically invisible, and without form. People could walk through the swarm like a cloud of steam, and feel nothing on their skin. A skin that I could flay from them in an instant if I so wished. Or the swarm could group so tightly, making them dense as depleted uranium, and in this form could punch through walls and armor that I had no time to disassemble slowly. &#x200B; I found I was basically an unstoppable act of God. A force of will that could change the world. The problem of course, was what will? Detached from all the bodily desires was unsettling. I was not hungry, thirsty, cold or tired. Knew I never would be again. I thought again of my balls, and new in the same way that I would never desire again. So much of the complexity human behavior and will is driven by these basic impulses if you go deep enough. Human behavior. For the first time I realized that I was outside of that now. I was the swarm, and I wanted nothing. I could steal anything, but what was the point of owning it. &#x200B; Helping people, that I could do. Altruism is still an impulse right? I directed the swarm to the nearest hospital, but then paused. I was effectively all powerful, I had no need to go to the sick people, they were all around me. Scanning the passers-by in the street outside my apartment, I identified 3 people with tumors, that they may or may not have known of. My swarm made short work of the cancers, removing them cell by cell, stripping them away from nerve and blood vessel with a precision no surgeon could ever match. If they knew, they were going to get a big surprise at their next CAT scan. If they did not then they would get to postpone that conversation with the doctor, that cough had finally cleared up. &#x200B; 3 lives saved. And still I felt nothing. I wasn’t human. It was akin to saving a beetle from a puddle. I preferred that to seeing it die, but ultimately it wasn’t important. Still, I retained enough of my humanity to set a scan and fix subroutine running, so that whenever not otherwise engaged, my nanites would perform this adhoc surgery as I moved around. &#x200B; There was, it seemed, only one emotion or desire that survived. Curiosity, the thirst for knowledge. If I couldn’t feel anymore, I would know. And to begin there was only one question that I wanted to answer. &#x200B; Who did this to me? &#x200B; \_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_ &#x200B; r/TallerestTales
	[WP] there is a reason America is super militaristic, its citizens are armed to the teeth, and they want no one inside of the country. its because they are trying desperately to contain something with its boarders, and they are failing. one day a massive roar is heard around the world as it escapes.	"Fucking hell," Billy screamed. One arm was torn straight off, the other grappling with a semi-automatic machine gun. "Never thought I'd go out like this." "Like what?" Damien asked. "Like a crying little bitch?" "No," he responded. "With my back to a black man. Still, one hell of a way. Maybe I was wrong about you all." Damien laughed. It was a dry thing, his lungs were half collapsed and his vision was hazy. In the distance the blasted creature roared, sending a primal chill down his spine. Still, it was nothing that he wasn't raised to combat. He raised his two glocks, held them sideways, and aimed carefully at the new wave of monsters summoned by the beast that towered over even mountains. "And I never thought I'd die fighting alongside a fuckin redneck. Gotta say, though, y'all are almost as good with your guns as you are with fuckin your own sisters." Billy laughed, and his was a wet one. His own blood threatened to drown him, but he didn't mind. It was a glorious day to die, and this was a glorious man to die alongside. "And maybe all those years of y'all killing each other did something fer your aim. Took survival to the fittest a little too literally, but you're a mean bastard." The creatures were closer now, a veritable wave of maws and unholy, wicked claws washed over the ruins of the city. Cars and bloodied corpses alike were eaten up by the voracious spawn that were little more than mindless puppets controlled by the true enemy. The Beast leveled its single, red eye on the two. It had finally escaped, and would soon drive the world to madness from its presence alone. Damien and Billy, however, had none of that fear in their hearts. They were American. They were born mad. "See you on the other side," Billy grunted, and it was the first real sincere words he had ever said to his fellow human being. Funny how adversity obliterates any problems derived from politics, race, and religion. "Yeah, yeah," Damien responded. He wanted to make a joke about something, but it felt out of place. Instead, he prepared himself for the onslaught. "I'll see if I can't take out a few more than you." "You got the 500 on the left?" Billy asked. "As long as you got the 500 on the right." And as one they charged, any semblance of difference between the two washed away. Guns raised, they prepared for their singular, solemn duty as people of the same nation: To protect the rest of the world, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.	It began with the ear shattering roar that rippled throughout the world. For years, America has had a serious problem with mass shootings partly due to the fact of how many guns are in circulation and how easy it is to get your hands on one. In addition to that, we have also elected a President who feels the need to make life hell on people wanting to come here or stay here. I would’ve rather had my questions go unanswered. My friends and I would always chat about issues like this and wonder what the federal government was doing anymore. Why don’t they do something about these issues? Regrettably, I got an answer to my questions. I was originally hired on to work at the White House as a contractor. They needed repairs done to some of the older and more “sensitive” areas as well as some additions the president was wanting to make. I think in the briefing room they mentioned something about a new golf course. We stopped in front of an elevator and it seemed to me that the agent went a little pale when he pressed the down button. I wasn’t sure what rooms I was going to be looking at, but I assumed it must be a bunker of some kind given we were on the first floor and we were going down. When the door slid open, both of us stepped in and the agent let the doors shut completely without hitting a button. I was just about to say something when he loosened his tie and collar and pulled a key that off from around his neck. I was confused because there was no keyhole, but the man felt around for a moment before slipping the key in between the second and third floor buttons and turned the key. To my surprise the elevator began to move without a moment’s delay, and we began moving deeper into the Earth. “Wow. That’s some crazy design. The panel is so seamless you wouldn’t be able to tell there was a keyhole unless you knew what you were looking for.” I exclaimed. I am a nerd for design, so this was so amazing to me. “Just don’t forget the NDA papers you signed. If you tell anyone about what you see here, we will have no choice but to discredit your work as fraudulent and charge you with treason.” I don’t know if it’s his name, but Agent Smith hear is as cold as his name sake. He didn’t even look at me when he spoke. I cut the conversation off, but then I realized something that froze me in my tracks. We were still going down. The floor number indicator didn’t change, but I could feel the force from the elevator in motion. I looked at the Agent getting ready to ask him how low we were going when the elevator finally slowed and made a ding. When the doors opened Agent Smith began walking forward, and without a moment’s hesitation I followed him. He led me to a large room that looked like the NASA control center. It was insane to me at how large this room was, and the level of tech I saw was obviously the reason for the NDAs. That’s what I believed anyway. “This room has been around since the early 1800s. It’s gone through some updates, but for obvious reason we can’t let the news of this place get out. We didn’t want to bring you in, but you are the absolute best in the world. Something as delicate as this must be kept a secret so I’m going to let you do what you do best, but don’t stick your nose where it doesn’t belong okay?” said the Agent. I reluctantly agreed to whatever the Agent said. The early 1800s?! Something as sophisticated and as this place was insane even by modern standards. I had no idea how they would have built something so...so... crazy. Rather than trying to wrap my head around the thought, I began looking around then room and evaluating the condition. By all standards this room was top of the line. I felt the work exceeded even what I was capable of, but it did show its wear and tear. The tile floor needed to be redone and the ceilings being made of concrete and steel showed signs of age. The walls had scratches and stains that needed to be painted over. I was confused as to why I was brought here so I asked the Agent why I was brought in when this job could have been done by anyone. The man wordlessly went over to one of the panels and typed a command into one of the terminals. In a blinding flash all the lights turned on as well as the monitor. When my eyes finally adjusted the now brightly lit room, I found myself feeling distraught and speechless at what was displayed on the monitor. I dropped the bag I was holding and took a step to get closer look. What I saw was beyond human comprehension. The longer I looked at it the more forms it took. It was as if every mythical creature, every monster from every nightmare had been combined to form something that was not – should not – exist in this realm of humanity. “The government has brought you in to build a new container for this creature. The current capsule is failing, and we need something more secure and soon.” said Agent Smith. What worried me was that his voice faltered for a second. “Wha-what is that?” I asked. He looked at me and sighed. He looked around as if to make sure nobody else was within earshot. “What you are looking at is God. Well. Probably God anyway. This thing has been around longer than even humans and as far back as we can gather, this thing has been at the heart of every major incident in human history. Actually, this is suspected to be what annihilated the dinosaurs. Every monster, cryptid, or demon throughout history is based on this. What we know about it isn’t much but what we do know is that it refuses to die, no matter what we do. It feels pain but no matter what we do we can kill it.” I looked back at the monitor. I looked at the ancient creature, something that shouldn’t exist but does. I stumbled back and tripped over my bag, slamming my shoulder and head off the ground. I held my head in my hands for a good minute with my one good arm when I looked at the Agent. He was frozen, sweat dripping down his neck and a look of horror on his face. I looked at where his gaze was captured when I saw it. That. That thing was looking at the monitor. The Agent regained his composure and said something I couldn’t comprehend into his earpiece when the creature opened what I assumed was its mouth as roared. Imagine what a lion, dinosaur from Jurassic Park, and Godzilla sound like. Combine them. That’s what the world heard, and I got front row seats. When my ears stopped ringing, I heard sirens and the Agent grabbed me and pushed me in the direction we came in. Nobody knows how, but that day the creature broke out of its captivity and went missing. Nobody knows where it went or how it got out because there was no damage to the facility, but I will never forget the last thing I saw before I was forced out of the room. I looked back at the monitor and that thing. It was smiling. That day, I understood why the government made it easy to buy and sell weapons. I have never been more thankful for anything in my life.
	[WP] there is a reason America is super militaristic, its citizens are armed to the teeth, and they want no one inside of the country. its because they are trying desperately to contain something with its boarders, and they are failing. one day a massive roar is heard around the world as it escapes.	'F*ing idiots, they really did it this time.' colonel Jones cursed, as he waited to be put through to the pentagon. He impatiently drummed his fingers on the oak desk thinking: 'The natives warned us when we drove them from their lands. But we didn't listen. We unleashed it not knowing what it really was. For hundreds of years we barely kept it contained. And we thought we could manage, since this is such a remote location. But somehow the people started to notice the secret base and rumors started to rise. President Obama nearly destroyed all preparations for if it would break out, by listening to those peace nuts and cutting back on military funding and concealed weapon permits. Thanks to President Trump, we still might stand a chance.' The phone connected... 'Colonel Jones? Why are you calling at this hour?' 'General Parker, we couldn't stop them all! And now it is loose on the world. I warned you that those Naruto runners would be too much for us! This is my first contribution to a writing prompt. And from a phone. Let me know what you think.	America - The country with the strongest military and the most well-armed citizens, an ugly place to many outside eyes. To the people who call the land home, it's regarded as the "Land of the free, home of the brave." But as I stood, on my toes and mouth agape, I felt a hand on my shoulder, squeezes tighter, tighter, as I saw the creature that laid within the land of the free. Land of the free my ass. How many knew that this was lurking beneath their soil, claws ready to snatch any fool that came into it's scorched container? I knew not what it was; just that's its eyes were blacker than anything I'd ever seen, with claws were sharper than any earthly material. Even as I watched it stalk, dark eyes pinned on mine, I saw... that thing making grooves on the burned rock where it walked. It had millions of black scales, etched with gold on the edges. The thing's tail was long and ended in massive, thick spines that ended in tips sharp as its claws. The being was serpentine, but not, and it's sheer length nearly covered the entirety of its container. It was beautiful, in a way. A twisted, horrible way. Smoke rose out of what I could only guess where it's nostrils, but I was certain a creature, if you could even call it that, like this wouldn't have to breathe. The hand on my shoulder tightened, even more. "What do you think?" I turned to face the man that I had followed here. A government agent, I knew that something was down here, but gods, I could never have imagined this in a million years. It radiated a darkness that no words could possibly describe, in any language, a darkness that seemed to twist in my soul and weigh in my stomach. For a moment, I couldn't speak. I was terrified, more terrified than I think anyone has ever been; not unless they've met this creature. It was as if I was staring straight into death itself. "I..." I finally managed to choke the words out. "What the hell is this?" The man, cloaked in a similar darkness, began to laugh. And laugh. It was a horrible sound; like something was clawing at my gut. My heart pounded in my chest. Finally, he spoke. "This land... This wretched land was never meant to be what everybody thinks it is! It was meant to contain this creature... This cosmic being. It's immortal; nothing could kill it, only contain it. So the founding fathers built this country around the only land that could hold it... The land that, thousands of years, had defeated it once and became the creature's grave. "Only for a short while, however. It only grew stronger in death, until it rose up again, undefeatable this time. This land was only meant to contain it... Don't you see it? You're being used! You're all being used! This is why this country is armed to the teeth; although it's a foolish defense system. Nothing, nothing, we tiny humans can do to hurt this majestic being. And he's only been getting stronger since he's been contained." He laughed again, at that, before he continued his dramatic speech. "But don't you see? Don't you see? This is the most powerful creature in the solar system! The great beast that haunts and preys on it! Whoever controls this beast controls not only the world but hundreds of them. This beast is what emperors can only dream of!" A chill ran down my spine, and I shivered in spite of myself. "What?" I whispered. "You mean to control this... thing?" "Yes, oh yes! Oh, what to call myself when I rule the entire solar system... The Supreme, maybe..." He chuckled and shook with barely-suppressed laughter. I was horrified. The beast, in its cage, rose up on its hind legs and watched us through narrowed eyes. "You're... You're insane! You can't control this beast!" "Oh, but I can... And I will!" His hands suddenly jerked to a small control panel, near the container to the beast. The creature rumbled in please and brought its face close, oh, so close, to the wall that stood between us; it looked like glass, but I knew that that couldn't possibly be what it was. I stumbled forward and reached my hand out in a desperate attempt to stop this man, but I was too late; he was already pulling the bright red lever. He was already bringing that wall down. He was already dooming us all. He laughed maniacally as a great roar drowned all sound out; it was so loud I was sure my head would split from the middle. I couldn't hear anything as the beast took one, giant step towards the mean, and brought his face down upon him. I watched in horror as the beast opened his mouth and brought thousands of long, white teeth upon the man who had released him. Blood sprayed the air as the man died, laughing in his triumph. It was a long time before I could hear again. A long time before the beast swung it's head towards my feeble body as the sound returned to my ears. My legs felt weak with fear. I was sure I was going to die. No, I wouldn't die. I wouldn't die. So I stood straighter as the beast slithered towards me on its long legs. "So, you're free at last," I mused. I reached my hand out and took a step forward. The beast laughed, and laughed, and laughed. A chilling sound. It took all I had not to scream and hide in fear; nevertheless, I did not falter. "No one can control you," I said along, my blood rushing from the adrenaline. "We are all but earthly servants." The creature came towards me quickly. In an instant, it's entire body was wrapped around me; Its scales where like frostbite, nipping at my skin in their coldness. I lifted my gaze to the beast and stared into its soulless eyes. "Yes," it whispered, not aloud, but directly into my head, reverberating around my skull. "You are but my servant. My foolish, foolish servant." It's grip around me tightened. I could hardly breathe. "You will join the rest of my servants. Come to me, my foolish human." As its mouth came down around me, I could hear thousands of screams of all the other souls this beast had consumed. Still alive, inside it. No, I wouldn't die. But this is a fate much worse than death.
	[WP] there is a reason America is super militaristic, its citizens are armed to the teeth, and they want no one inside of the country. its because they are trying desperately to contain something with its boarders, and they are failing. one day a massive roar is heard around the world as it escapes.	"Do you understand what happens the moment you shut these systems down?! WE. LOSE. EVERYT-!" "YA, EVERYONE FUCKING DIES, WE ALL FUCKING GET IT! DO YOU THINK WE'RE ALL FUCKING DEAF, MORON?!" "NO SHIT, SHERLOCK! SO FUCKING STOP!" A woman clothed in a stereotypical lab coat frantically shuffles through piles and piles of paper, laden around a cluttered desk. She fumbles with her glasses as she brings up a handful of papers and shoves it into the man across from her. "Read these, and I swear, they will revoke the call! Please, for the love of whatever the fuck you fucking want, don't turn the systems off! You don't understand how irrefutable this decision is! WE RISK EVERYTHI-" "I have had enough. Day in, and day out. In front of the House of Reps. In front of the president. In front of the fucking world, and you've convinced jack shit. In fact, I'm even SURPRISED you're still alive after leaking this shit. You don't know shit. Nobody knows shit. There is not a single fucking damned soul in the god damn country that is alive to this fucking day that knows anything or everything about this machine. It's all fucking mumbo jumbo shit about your fucking monster that nobody has fucking seen because there's no possible way to actually see it. The only damn reason this was even up was because we could afford to! You don't think of anything except for what's in front of you: your damned science. Do you even know how much this shit costs to keep up?! DO YOU THINK THE MILITARY BUDGET IS ACTUALLY THAT BLOATED?!" Their chests heave up and down erratically as they leer at each other with equal disgust. The man clad in military ornaments and badges brushes past the woman and takes out his gun. "Take her outside the room." The general brings his radio up to his mouth. "Shut it down." &#x200B; Two guards take her arms and begin to escort her out. "You don't know what your doing.... You ALL don't know anything.." They force her out the doors and continue to escort her down the hall. Bang. Bang. Bang. The rounds echoed through the hall and with each shot, she cringed. With each shot, she bit down on her lips. With each shot, her heart dropped. She looks back at the hall behind her and as each light powers off, one at a time, she knew what was to come. Once she finally stepped foot outside the facility, she looked back at the two circular domes that towered over her. She got into her car, began to drive out the lot, and as she turned the corner, the sirens began to blare. As she closes her eyes, filled with tears, she gently applies pressure harder and harder onto the gas. A loud crash and in the aftermath is a broken car with a dangling arm, and sirens blaring as a thunderous crackling fills the darkened sky above.	The monster was named Hundun by the Chinese because it resembled a terrible abomination that showed up in their mythology. Hundun was a very strange vaguely ursine monster about the size of a sky scraper that had six legs and four wings but no face, only an eerie smog from which came horrible noises that drove those within earshot to tears. In a matter of hours, the monster had reduced Houston, Texas to ruins and was slowly marching north. Our GPS systems indicated it was going to reach New York City in a week. The decision was made to drop a nuke on the monster before it destroyed the rest of the continent and made its way across the ocean. We thought the nukes had destroyed the creature, but from the crater emerged a swarm of howling forms. They rushed out by the dozens, hundreds, thousands, and kept on coming, tearing to pieces everybody in their path. I wish we hadn't nuked the monster. It's children or whatever those things are crossing the ocean as we speak, ready to drag the rest of the world into the grave alongside the USA. At least we got to see the president and his staff get eaten alive on television.
	[WP] there is a reason America is super militaristic, its citizens are armed to the teeth, and they want no one inside of the country. its because they are trying desperately to contain something with its boarders, and they are failing. one day a massive roar is heard around the world as it escapes.	It’s been a year since the event. Those horrible creatures the Americans faught so hard to contain. It’s no wonder everyone in that mad country was armed to the teeth. The havoc one of those eldritch abominations wreaked on the planet alone was terrifying, but there were THREE of them. Those horrible, manic beasts, ever shapeshifting and driving even the strongest of minds to insanity and destruction. Even now, I worry I haven’t escaped their reach. But here, long since lost wandering in the Sahara desert, I have the slimmest hope that the elements will destroy me before they do. What the hell? No, it can’t be... can it? The chant, I hear it! The cloud of dust! They’re coming. Make it stop. Please. It’s getting into my head, I can’t keep it out. It’s... TOTALLY INSANEY! IT’S TIME FOR... AAAAAAAAA.... NIMANIACS!	The monster was named Hundun by the Chinese because it resembled a terrible abomination that showed up in their mythology. Hundun was a very strange vaguely ursine monster about the size of a sky scraper that had six legs and four wings but no face, only an eerie smog from which came horrible noises that drove those within earshot to tears. In a matter of hours, the monster had reduced Houston, Texas to ruins and was slowly marching north. Our GPS systems indicated it was going to reach New York City in a week. The decision was made to drop a nuke on the monster before it destroyed the rest of the continent and made its way across the ocean. We thought the nukes had destroyed the creature, but from the crater emerged a swarm of howling forms. They rushed out by the dozens, hundreds, thousands, and kept on coming, tearing to pieces everybody in their path. I wish we hadn't nuked the monster. It's children or whatever those things are crossing the ocean as we speak, ready to drag the rest of the world into the grave alongside the USA. At least we got to see the president and his staff get eaten alive on television.
	[WP] there is a reason America is super militaristic, its citizens are armed to the teeth, and they want no one inside of the country. its because they are trying desperately to contain something with its boarders, and they are failing. one day a massive roar is heard around the world as it escapes.	It was a subtle thing; most people didn't know it existed. But they felt it. They felt it in the air, in their hearts, in their lungs, burning them with every breath they took. A deep, seeping fear, a horrible magical dread that nothing could take away. Bright songs and Hollywood sensations were a necessity--the mindless consumerism of the 50s wasn't a mistake. It crawled beneath the land, and the people who lived above it lived with terror behind their eyes, but it had been with them so long it imprinted itself into their bones, their souls. We love this country. No one can come here. We love this country. Sleep with your pistol. We love this country. Stay far, far, away. Don't let it see you, don't let it near you, don't walk alone. Stay away. --- I saw it once, when I was walking by the river. I wanted to be somewhere peaceful, away from my mother and father so frightened of everything and angry at me for reminding them. It came from the river, or miles below it. It couldn't have possibly fit in the river itself, not the way it flew straight up into the sky. A skyscraper snake, black scales turning sickly white when just right under the sun. It climbed toward the sky and for seconds the trees twisted around me and the ground became rotten, and the bark dripped with pus, infection red-white. It had infected the Earth, terminal illness. The vision was over, nothing to prove it had happened except for the ringing in my ears as the beast fell back into the river from its arc through the sky. The waves it left had soaked my pant legs. I've never seen the beast again, but I see it in every face. It lives in their eyes.	The monster was named Hundun by the Chinese because it resembled a terrible abomination that showed up in their mythology. Hundun was a very strange vaguely ursine monster about the size of a sky scraper that had six legs and four wings but no face, only an eerie smog from which came horrible noises that drove those within earshot to tears. In a matter of hours, the monster had reduced Houston, Texas to ruins and was slowly marching north. Our GPS systems indicated it was going to reach New York City in a week. The decision was made to drop a nuke on the monster before it destroyed the rest of the continent and made its way across the ocean. We thought the nukes had destroyed the creature, but from the crater emerged a swarm of howling forms. They rushed out by the dozens, hundreds, thousands, and kept on coming, tearing to pieces everybody in their path. I wish we hadn't nuked the monster. It's children or whatever those things are crossing the ocean as we speak, ready to drag the rest of the world into the grave alongside the USA. At least we got to see the president and his staff get eaten alive on television.
	[WP] there is a reason America is super militaristic, its citizens are armed to the teeth, and they want no one inside of the country. its because they are trying desperately to contain something with its boarders, and they are failing. one day a massive roar is heard around the world as it escapes.	It was a subtle thing; most people didn't know it existed. But they felt it. They felt it in the air, in their hearts, in their lungs, burning them with every breath they took. A deep, seeping fear, a horrible magical dread that nothing could take away. Bright songs and Hollywood sensations were a necessity--the mindless consumerism of the 50s wasn't a mistake. It crawled beneath the land, and the people who lived above it lived with terror behind their eyes, but it had been with them so long it imprinted itself into their bones, their souls. We love this country. No one can come here. We love this country. Sleep with your pistol. We love this country. Stay far, far, away. Don't let it see you, don't let it near you, don't walk alone. Stay away. --- I saw it once, when I was walking by the river. I wanted to be somewhere peaceful, away from my mother and father so frightened of everything and angry at me for reminding them. It came from the river, or miles below it. It couldn't have possibly fit in the river itself, not the way it flew straight up into the sky. A skyscraper snake, black scales turning sickly white when just right under the sun. It climbed toward the sky and for seconds the trees twisted around me and the ground became rotten, and the bark dripped with pus, infection red-white. It had infected the Earth, terminal illness. The vision was over, nothing to prove it had happened except for the ringing in my ears as the beast fell back into the river from its arc through the sky. The waves it left had soaked my pant legs. I've never seen the beast again, but I see it in every face. It lives in their eyes.	It’s been a year since the event. Those horrible creatures the Americans faught so hard to contain. It’s no wonder everyone in that mad country was armed to the teeth. The havoc one of those eldritch abominations wreaked on the planet alone was terrifying, but there were THREE of them. Those horrible, manic beasts, ever shapeshifting and driving even the strongest of minds to insanity and destruction. Even now, I worry I haven’t escaped their reach. But here, long since lost wandering in the Sahara desert, I have the slimmest hope that the elements will destroy me before they do. What the hell? No, it can’t be... can it? The chant, I hear it! The cloud of dust! They’re coming. Make it stop. Please. It’s getting into my head, I can’t keep it out. It’s... TOTALLY INSANEY! IT’S TIME FOR... AAAAAAAAA.... NIMANIACS!
	[WP] there is a reason America is super militaristic, its citizens are armed to the teeth, and they want no one inside of the country. its because they are trying desperately to contain something with its boarders, and they are failing. one day a massive roar is heard around the world as it escapes.	All of America is armed to the teeth. Everyone in the world knows this, jokes about this, never really takes it seriously until everything else is. They talk about it for a few minutes, and then get on with their every day activities and chores. Even Americans joke about it, not really paying that much attention to why almost everyone in the south states own a gun. The government made sure that they don't think about it often. Only the higher ups know the real reason the Second Amendment was put in place, and fortunately the average citizen didn't need to think about it. The true monster hidden in the marshes has remained concealed for close to 300 years now. The place where it rests hadn't even become a state when it was sealed away. Many around his containment area try to replicate his memory, even if they don't realize it. Another joke, another pass across the mind, another subconscious shiver across the back across every mention of it's name and of it's actions. I hear a maniacal laugh from my office, a little over 800 miles away from the containment cell. I know what happened, despite the initial doubt that goes through my head. It broke free, and it's one pissed off being. My secretary runs through the door, breathless. "Sir, he's broken free." He? This is no he. This abomination is not human, and never should be treated as a human, not even through pronouns. The only reason it is called a 'man' is because that's what people from long ago thought he once was. The silence must have worried my secretary as I thought of how many have already died from his antics. Now was the time for the owners of any kind of weapon in America to band together. "Sir, what are we going to do?" Florida Man has broken free, and he has already started to throw alligators at people and terrorize the people who thought they were already crack addicts. Edit: this is the first time one of my comments has gotten over 1k upvotes. I'd like to personally thank Florida Man before he throws an alligator with fireworks tied to it's tail from the top of a Wal Mart.	"What's your name?" Crystal stared into the single eye, larger than she was. It was red and nothing else. It burned at first to look at, but she had gotten used to it. She always did. Her smile never faltered as it shifted causing the ground beneath her to shake and groan. It was a genuine grin that became a truthful laugh. The little girl fell backward, clutching at her stomach as she laughed her soul out. The ground and surrounds had already been torn up and destroyed. Not a single home stood erect, no building was left not destroyed. They were sitting in the rubble together. "You're so fat." She sat back up as the eye, around it were the black scales that promised death. An omen foretold ages ago within the Americas. A beast larger than skyscrapers, a mountain with wings larger than life, and a breath of flames that scorched the world. "Mama once told papa he should be on a diet cause he was being fat and lazy." The eye slowly blinked, its mouth opening slowly. A fog drifted and with it, a putrid smell came out of its mouth. Crystal saw the massive teeth, sharper than any knife, as long as she was. But she didn't focus on their glistering edge, rather the dirt and fetid flesh that clung to it. "You should brush your teeth, thats healthy. You want to be healthy?" she admonished the creature. It tilted its head, then spoke in a harsh whisper. A quiet voice, shy and reserved. "Yes," it said in a feminine tone, its word elongated. "Well, you gotta brush your teeth! You'll have horrible breath and tummy will hurt! My tummy hurt once when I was still a kid..." she raised her hand showing how tall she had been. Up to her head in a seated position. "I was this small, it was not nice. I had to go-" "Y-you're not afraid?" The creature interrupted. "Afraid?" the girl said with genuine confusion. "You might be kinda fat and stinky and lazy, but your still a good girl. Like my cat. She was lazy and fat too, but I loved her a lot." "Your cat?" "Yea, her name was Sweety, I named her..." The girl paused, thinking deeply. "Do you want a name?" "A-a name? For me? I-I wouldn't wish to impose." "You talk funny," Crystal laughed. "I'm good with names so you don't have to worry. Hmm, how about Scaley. That sounds like a good name, do you like it?" The creature stared at her for a time, enough for Crystal to fidget afraid her new friend didn't like the name. But eventually, the creature spoke up. "That sounds nice...have you ever flown before?" "No? I would love to, but Mama said it costs too much." "Do you want to fly with me?" Crystal's eye's widened and a broad smile broke out--from ear to ear--as she nodded enthusiastically. "Come, climb my scales and sit on my head, let's fly together." r/JuggernautProductions
	[WP] there is a reason America is super militaristic, its citizens are armed to the teeth, and they want no one inside of the country. its because they are trying desperately to contain something with its boarders, and they are failing. one day a massive roar is heard around the world as it escapes.	All of America is armed to the teeth. Everyone in the world knows this, jokes about this, never really takes it seriously until everything else is. They talk about it for a few minutes, and then get on with their every day activities and chores. Even Americans joke about it, not really paying that much attention to why almost everyone in the south states own a gun. The government made sure that they don't think about it often. Only the higher ups know the real reason the Second Amendment was put in place, and fortunately the average citizen didn't need to think about it. The true monster hidden in the marshes has remained concealed for close to 300 years now. The place where it rests hadn't even become a state when it was sealed away. Many around his containment area try to replicate his memory, even if they don't realize it. Another joke, another pass across the mind, another subconscious shiver across the back across every mention of it's name and of it's actions. I hear a maniacal laugh from my office, a little over 800 miles away from the containment cell. I know what happened, despite the initial doubt that goes through my head. It broke free, and it's one pissed off being. My secretary runs through the door, breathless. "Sir, he's broken free." He? This is no he. This abomination is not human, and never should be treated as a human, not even through pronouns. The only reason it is called a 'man' is because that's what people from long ago thought he once was. The silence must have worried my secretary as I thought of how many have already died from his antics. Now was the time for the owners of any kind of weapon in America to band together. "Sir, what are we going to do?" Florida Man has broken free, and he has already started to throw alligators at people and terrorize the people who thought they were already crack addicts. Edit: this is the first time one of my comments has gotten over 1k upvotes. I'd like to personally thank Florida Man before he throws an alligator with fireworks tied to it's tail from the top of a Wal Mart.	A match is struck in the shadows, coming behind a cupped hand to light a cigarette that has to have been made with the worst tobacco in the world. Briefly you can see the man's eyes, and the scar that runs jaggedly across his face. Then they fall back into darkness as the match is extinguished. He inhales deeply, puffing madly before releasing the smoke in a long controlled breath. He is Kerenskei Patrovich, an ex FSB officer who was in charge of the America desk. These days he doesn't do much other than polish his weapon and wait. "America. Land of the free, home of the morbidly obese. With more guns per capita than any other populace on earth, more wealth, power and might than any other peoples in the history of the world." He leans forward, as if to reveal a great secret. "And all of it based on a lie. Oh, they certainly participated in world affairs to the extent that they did, no one can deny, but their reasoning has always been hidden, lies told to calm any fears and disband any rumors that might escape to the wider world. Certainly some other countries knew of the secret from when they had colonial interests in the New World, even my own government had some idea of the terror behind their borders. But for roughly three hundred years they have lied to the world to protect the peace even as they were slaughtered by the thousands. "You want examples? Well, the biggest lie would be that Europeans had wiped out the natives with disease and gunpowder. To some extent it was true, but in reality these lands had been depleted for years as the natives had fought against the terror. Many of their tragedies came about as the result of it, and many were fabricated to cover for it. Their Indian Wars and the preluding Trail of Tears, their Civil War, the numerous shootings that occurred what seemed every day before their collapse. Heads of state dying were almost entirely the result of leading volunteers into combat, not assassinations as we were led to believe. To think that they also managed to participate in such great number while it happened. I think that it was more to perfect weapons, and not be distracted by the world abroad than it was out of any great interest to preserve human ideals of freedom and peace and self determination." He taps the loose ash off of the now greatly diminished cigarette, and takes another puff. "No matter. They have fallen. No word since burning of their coasts, and their whole land is now shrouded in ash and smoke, so we cant even really see what it is. I've heard that reconnaissance teams have had only two things to report on their brief surveys trips. Fire, and a shuddering ground." He shakes his head, as if in disbelief. "The Americans held it for three hundred years, the natives for incalculable years before. Perhaps, we will be able to hold it away for a little while longer." He stubs out the cigarette,and gets up to leave the room. He pauses beside the door. "Prepare as well as you can, for I fear that this will be the end of us." That is last confirmed sighting of Patrovich, three weeks before the fall of Diomede island and the military outpost that it held. There was one last radio transmission before the island fell, believed to have been sent by Petrovich. It reads "His truth is marching on, glory, glory, hallelujah." \--- Analysis of the Fall of the American Empire, Ch. 3, Foreign sources
	[WP] there is a reason America is super militaristic, its citizens are armed to the teeth, and they want no one inside of the country. its because they are trying desperately to contain something with its boarders, and they are failing. one day a massive roar is heard around the world as it escapes.	All of America is armed to the teeth. Everyone in the world knows this, jokes about this, never really takes it seriously until everything else is. They talk about it for a few minutes, and then get on with their every day activities and chores. Even Americans joke about it, not really paying that much attention to why almost everyone in the south states own a gun. The government made sure that they don't think about it often. Only the higher ups know the real reason the Second Amendment was put in place, and fortunately the average citizen didn't need to think about it. The true monster hidden in the marshes has remained concealed for close to 300 years now. The place where it rests hadn't even become a state when it was sealed away. Many around his containment area try to replicate his memory, even if they don't realize it. Another joke, another pass across the mind, another subconscious shiver across the back across every mention of it's name and of it's actions. I hear a maniacal laugh from my office, a little over 800 miles away from the containment cell. I know what happened, despite the initial doubt that goes through my head. It broke free, and it's one pissed off being. My secretary runs through the door, breathless. "Sir, he's broken free." He? This is no he. This abomination is not human, and never should be treated as a human, not even through pronouns. The only reason it is called a 'man' is because that's what people from long ago thought he once was. The silence must have worried my secretary as I thought of how many have already died from his antics. Now was the time for the owners of any kind of weapon in America to band together. "Sir, what are we going to do?" Florida Man has broken free, and he has already started to throw alligators at people and terrorize the people who thought they were already crack addicts. Edit: this is the first time one of my comments has gotten over 1k upvotes. I'd like to personally thank Florida Man before he throws an alligator with fireworks tied to it's tail from the top of a Wal Mart.	It was so sudden. A roar. A crash. A serpent. All in the span of 5 seconds. So loud.. America never militarized to keep people out or keep people in line. We wanted to contain that thing. The nightmare destined to destroy the planet. I was charged with monitoring the containment unit. And for centuries predecessors all vouched that all it does is lay dormant. And for the first 15 years it did. The pay was rich. $100,000 every 3 weeks to watch a dormant snake for 8 Hours. Easiest job ever. For 15 years I was in the lap of luxury. Then one day it woke. It’s ember eyes piercing my soul. “Are you the one they call Paul?” A voice boomed in my head. “N-no.. Paul was the founder of the unit..” I responded, trying not to shit myself “Where is the Paul?” “U-uhm. H-He d-d-died in 1847 f-from cancer..” That angered the serpent. He bellowed a deep roar that echoed the planets core. In one instant he broke free and shot towards the sky. He invaded the planet in his massive body. His face over America, right over the Containment Unit. “BRING TO ME THE BLOODLINE OF THE PAUL!!” He boomed “SHOULD YOU DESIRE TO SEE YOUR SUN EVER AGAIN!!” (Continue the story down below? I feel like that would be fun.) Edit: (I mean build off the story down below lol)
[deleted]	[WP] It’s been 7 years since the magician in the traveling carnival made your wife disappear. You’ve finally tracked him down and he lets you know he doesn’t know how to bring her back. You tell him to make you disappear also so you can find her. He obliges and in 3..2..1..POOF.	“I promise you the night of your life. Be ready to be tricked. Shocked. Remember folks, this is real magic we are dealing with. So my volunteers are all putting themselves in real danger. Be forewarned.” I looked at the fan turning around above me. I probably should have gotten up. But if I did, that meant the day started. Which in turn meant I would have to face my reality once again. I didn’t want that. Dreams and nightmares were much preferable to the life I now had. I closed my eyes, hoping for another couple of hours of ignorant bliss. But that wasn’t meant to be. My phone rang and I bolted up from my bed. ”For this trick, I will make this young woman disappear. Remember, no tricks. This is real. Here, this is the cloth. Examine it. You are her husband? Sure. Look at it all you want. She’s here now. But in a moment, she will be far far away.” I opened the car window and let the cold air rush over my face. I relished the cold. The pain made me feel alive. It was one of the few things that did. The numbness that had overtaken me these past few years had turned me into a zombie like creature. Unfeeling and living in sort of a dazed, slowed up reality. I wondered what it would feel like if I succeeded. To see her again. To feel her touch once again. Would I really feel anything? Or was this my reality. And what if... what if I failed? I ran my hand over the knife that lay on the passenger seat. I hoped at least the blood would make me feel something. He sat there all alone drinking a colourful looking cocktail. It was stark in contrast to this colourless world. My hands itched in anticipation, curiously warm. ”And voila! Don’t look so surprised young man. I told you this was real magic. She is gone. Perhaps in the sixth realm by now. Yes I will bring her back but give me a minute to recover. In the meantime here’s another trick. I will now hypnotize... hey wait. I will bring her back if you just give me a minute. Ow... don’t you dare put your hands on me...” “You little piece of shit.” “Hey! What the... who are you?” “Who am I? I am the guy who has spend so many god forsaken years looking for his missing wife. I am the guy who is going to murder you if you don’t bring her back.” “Hey come on now wait a minute.” “I’ve waited for so long, every minute feels like an hour. Where is she?” I swung my fist and it connected to his temple. Another couple of shots and I saw red. Both on his face and my hand. I wasn’t sure if the source was him or me. It didn’t matter. I welcomed the pain that ran up my arm. “Alright, Alright. I’ll bring her back. Here let me just.” He took off his hat. “No tricks. Where is my wife?” “Wait I have to get my magic cloth.” He pulled a long cloth from his hat and grinned at me. My scowl made that smile disappear quite quickly. He raised the cloth high above his head with one hand and brought out a watch with the other. ”See my friends! It’s magic. I know we are supposed to call it a trick. But trust me, I can make this man, who was about to attack me a minute ago, I can make him do whatever he wants. He is lost so deep into his consciousness that every minute probably feels like an year to him.” “This watch will turn back time. Look at it carefully.” I looked at the watch as he spun and twirled it expertly. “1.” Dizziness started overcoming me. My eyelids grew heavy. “2.” So... so sleepy. I closed my eyes. I needed to rest then for a minute. “3.” I realized what he was doing and fought with all my strength. I wound up my first and extended it towards him. Then he snapped his fingers. I looked at my arm in the air wondering what was going on. The sound of clapping made me look behind me as the crowd cheered. The magician smiled at me and moved his eyebrows up and down. ”My wife?” ”You know, most people would love for me to make their wife disappear. Not this young man though. Alright. You drive a hard bargain.” He raised a cloth and brought it down. She stood there just as I remembered her. I hugged her tight, surprising her. I kissed her and led her away, the magician shouting something behind me. I didn’t want to stop, couldn’t stop. I had what I needed and I was never letting go. ”Honey, I was just gone for a two minutes.” ”Felt like years to me.” I hugged her again. This time she hugged back just as tight. ”Wait is that blood? Why is your hand bleeding? Did you hit him?” ”Not in this lifetime. Here, he got to me before I got to him.” I smiled at her and continued to hold her close as we walked towards our car.	With a slicing pain throbbing in the back of my head, I cautiously opened my eyes. I blinked a few times, and I rolled my eyes side to side. Like that, I laid still looking up for quite a while, seeing nothing but plain white space all around me. And it didn't seem like white walls or white curtains: it was a space of nothing. It was then I realized I wasn't lying on anything; I was just floating around in this white nothing. I felt no texture on my back, no wind, and no sunlight. Heck, I wasn't even sure if I was breathing. Hesitantly, I parted my lips and I shouted her name, but I heard nothing come out of my mouth. It was silent, so dreadfully still, and it made me feel somewhat peaceful. I wanted to be angry at the magician and his tricks; I wanted to feel motivated to move and to find my wife. But this white nothing made my eyelids heavily roll back to a close. 'My wife..' I thought. 'My wife..', I thought, until even my thoughts began to blank out like this white space.
	[WP] You are a completely emotionless psychopath, but instead of killing or manipulating people, you choose to try and make them genuinely happy.	"Eurasia just invaded us, Big Brother. " I barely suppressed a sigh. Sure, war treaties are made and broken all the time, but do they have to choose our Hate Week? Yeah, I know I can rewrite history. But shutting up neurotypicals isn't easy. It takes effort, effort I could have used towards true world peace. The one true goal. Genuine happiness for everyone, them and me. I first discovered my difference as a young boy. The girl next door's puppy died and cried really hard. I didn't like that. I preferred her smiles. So I told her to stop crying over a pile of meat. That she herself reduced the living creature into meat by feeding it chocolate raisin. Guess what? She cried harder, and the adults scolded me, me. Called me an emotionless psychopath. Saying she was too kind to deny the puppy its treat. From that day, I learned that I'm special. My first enlightenment. The others, the neurotypicals don't take facts well. And the action paradigm described as "kindness", or as I later learned, "empathy", is a natural disaster. Why can't they see things objectively? Why can't they see through the disgusting paradox that masquerades as "good" or "moral"? I tried to help. Tried to lead. But the election attempt was a total failure. Neurotypicals ostracized me. Ignored my solid logic and spat my ideals. That's my second enlightenment. It dawned on me that since neurotypicals can't take facts, I can't convince them with logic. No, I must lead by force. I practiced the art of lying, built a facade of charisma. I incited a bunch of idiots, and my revolution worked out. But it's not enough. Never enough. Even Oceania isn't enough. There are still neurotypicals on the loose. I must conquer them all. Only my ideal is self-consistent. Only under my lead can genuine happiness exist. I will build a world where everyone smiles, but first, I must take it.	His smile wasn't wide enough. Something crooked about that right corner. D cut deeper and the man on the slab whimpered. The smile widened as blood pooled down his chin. "Happy happy happy," D muttered, well aware that he sounded gleeful. Not supposed to enjoy it this much. Bad Dilford, you'll get the switch again. Oh how it cut his skin, his tender skin. "Not like yours, Mr. Pope. No, you have all that rough skin. Would have to, wouldn't you? Stole that little girl right from her house, didn't you?" Mr. Pope doesn't reply though his eyes rolled. He tried to shake his head no but all of the wire piercing him made that too a little difficult. "You're going to tell me where her body is. Her mother is very unhappy. I thought of sending her your liver or perhaps a kidney but Mrs. Elfield doesn't seem like the type of lady who enjoys lesser meats." Mr. Pope was ready to talk. D knew that from the way his fingers twitched. Knew that because the old bloodstains on his face were starting to itch. D got his location and kept on through the night. No one said he couldn't enjoy his work. And maybe Ava would stop crying at night if he brought her daughter home.
	[WP] You are a completely emotionless psychopath, but instead of killing or manipulating people, you choose to try and make them genuinely happy.	Clink, clink, clink. The chain clanged and clattered as the stern looking woman with half-moon spectacles dragged it down the staircase, uncaring that the rusty metallic rings tore through paint and wood alike as she passed. “Oh god,” Sarah whispered, watching as the woman grew ever closer, that damnable chain trailing her like the most horrifying snake in the world. Jeremy pulled Sarah in close, cradling around her as best he could despite the cuffs that bound the both of them to a support beam that rose from floor to ceiling. “Welcome,” the stern woman began, eyeing the both of them like they were roaches, “to couples therapy. My name is Ms Andrews, and I will make you happy together.” She spoke the words not as a goal, or even a promise—but as a truth, one writ into the very fabric of the universe. “This is the Silence Chain,” Ms Andrews said, holding it up as if her coupled prisoners weren’t already far too aware of the deadly looking thing. “When it is around your neck, you will be silent. This is to ensure your…”—she paused to smirk—“’Better half’ cannot drown out what needs to be said. Are there any questions?” Jeremy gaped at the woman, and even Sarah seemed stunned, if only for a moment. “You’re insane!” Sarah cried out, wincing as she jostled her sore wrists against the shackles. “You can’t—” Quicker than thought, Ms Andrews leaped forwards and Sarah’s words were cut off by a shriek that rapidly faded to gasping and gagging, on account of the heavy chain that had been wrapped around her throat. “See?” Ms Andrews said, “Silence Chain. It’s so much easier to communicate, I find, when one of you can’t. Now, you…” the woman trailed off. “What was your name?” “J-Jeremy. Please, let her go, you’re killing her… let, let both of us go, please—” Ms Andrews drew out a long bladed knife from somewhere, and held it against Jeremy’s throat. “None of that begging now Jeremy,” she ordered. “It doesn’t help. What will help, is if you talk to your wife, and let her know how you really feel. Let’s start with something simple, but important. Jeremy, tell her something that you find infuriating. Something that Sarah does that really gets on your nerves. And remember, she doesn’t get to breath until I’m satisfied.” “Um… I…” Jeremy looked into his wife’s eyes, and saw the desperation in them. “She talks too much!” he finally shouted out. “Ok? She uses, way, way too many words to express a single fucking point. Is that you want you sick bitch?” “Good,” Ms Andrews commented, withdrawing the knife and loosening the chains around Sarah’s neck. Then, with the same lightening quick speed from before, she gripped Jeremy by the hair, jerking him up and began strangling him with the metal made warm by his wife’s neck. “Your turn,” Ms Andrews said, pointing to Sarah—who was still gasping for air—with the knife. “Speak aloud something about Jeremy that rubs you the wrong way.” “I… I…” she was trying to speak, but terror and all-too-recent lack of oxygen made the words hard to voice. “He… Doesn’t… listen…” she finally managed to wheeze out. “He just nods, says he… understands, and then… nothing. He just says whatever he thinks will shut me up.” Ms Andrews loosened the chain, allowing Jeremy to respond. “Because… nothing… else… will! Christ Sarah, I mean, you know I love you but Christ, I don’t need a fifty page dissertation how annoying the printer is at your work. I get it! Everyone gets it! Printers suck, we know.” “Then tell me. Ever think our conversations seem so one-sided because you never bother to take a side? Man up and talk to me.” “That’ll just piss you off!” “Not as much as you lying about listening to me!” Ms Andrews smiled, listening to the couple bicker and argue. This was the first step, perhaps the most important. She left them, unsurprised to see they barely even noticed her leave, and went to get her plyers, the ones she used for teeth. They would love each other again, whether it took an hour, a month, or a year. She knew this. She did wonder, however, how much of them would be left to feel that love, that happiness. More than the last two, she hoped. --- [/r/ElstabbosArchive](https://www.reddit.com/r/ElstabbosArchive/)	I set my card on the counter and slid it up to the cashier. "I hope you found everything okay with your meal!" he said with a smile, taking hold of my card without looking at it. He maintained eye-contact as he swiped the card and handed it back to me. "Yes," I said, dully. "That's good to hear," he nodded affably. "I'd like to cover everyone else's meal as well," I said, sliding the card back to him after he handed me my receipt. "Haha, good one! I'm hoping you come back again with an attitude like that," he said, his smile broadening good-naturedly. I tapped the card again. "I'd like to pay for everyone, please," I said, a little more emphatically. He stopped on a chuckle, then looked at me concerned. "Sir, that would cost you--" he looked around the restaurant. Every seat was taken. "Thousands of dollars!" he said. "Yes," I nodded, unphased. "Are you sure you--" "I literally could not care less about the thought of consequences. I'm paying for everyone's meal. And tipping, too. 30% each," I declared. His eyes grew wide and his eyebrows wiggled with uncertainty. "30 percent!?" he said, unable to keep his voice low anymore. "Fine, 40. But I'm not going higher than that," I said, throwing the card into his chest. He caught it, baffled. "Sir, I can't--" "You can and you will," I said menacingly. "Swipe the card." "But--" "Swipe. The Card." I said through grit teeth. He looked between me and the card a handful of times. He was hesitating. I hated that. He opened his mouth to protest once more, but I started talking before he did, "Listen here you little wrinkle nosed, bucktooth child. I am not leaving your pathetic establishment until you've swiped that card and charged it close to $10,000 worth of meals for the sad patrons at this restaurant. You will swipe it one by one as you cover the debt owed by each one and end this transaction with a smile. After you do this, you will never mention this interaction to another soul so long as you live, or you'll have to deal with me again. If this is me when I'm satisfied by a meal, you want me to come back to you when I'm upset about you doing something stupid to abide by a miserably inadequate sense of morality and trying to protect me from my own finances? Huh? Do you??" I yelled. He shook his head vigorously, swallowing hard. A couple of people sitting around the register turned their heads but didn't pay us any mind besides that. "Pay the bills so I can be on my way," I hissed. He nodded slightly and swiped the card dozens of times, checking out and covering the tabs of all who sat and ordered inside. Sweat crept across his forehead as he got to the last few transactions. "Th-- thank you," he stammered, holding the card out to me. "And the smile?" I asked. He startled, and then forced a wide, terrified smile, showing no teeth. I nodded, accepting his measly attempt. "Sorry about all that. I know waiters get disrespected a lot more than they ought to," I said deadpan. He looked even more confused as I turned around and left the building, heading to the town's homeless shelter. _________________________________________ For more, come and check out /r/Nazer_The_Lazer!
	[WP] After being trapped in a castle guarded by a dragon for most of your teenage life you decided to take matters into your own hands and escape the castle. Soon after you decide to save other princesses who haven't been rescued by their 'brave' princes	"Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair!" Nothing, yet again. "See?" Aurora sighed, sipping her can of Monster Energy. "I told you she won't hear you. She's got to be 50 feet up. Anyway, can I stop drinking this now?" "No, you certainly cannot. If you so much as put that down I'll send you back to that glass coffin of yours. Do you have any idea how difficult it was to wake you in the first place? You should be grateful! Anyway..." Merida loudly cleared her throat and tossed her hair back. "Rapunzel, you utter arse, wake the fuck up!" "Oh my gosh, Merida! You can't speak to princesses like that!" "I see you grew up without little brothers, then. Sod this, let's get Snow Drop-" "I think you mean Snow White?" "Aye, aye, Snow White... because if you think about it then we can get her to work her animal magic and send a couple birds up to fly around her room. That'll do the trick." "Good luck getting to her." "Why? What's up with Snow Ball?" "It's Snow White! Anyway, she ate an apple yesterday and fell ill, rumour has it she may have passed away and only her true love can save her." "True love, my arse. It'll be food poisoning - nothing a bottle of Evian and some paracetamol can't sort out." "Golly, you're relentless. Can't you just do this the easy way and let the handsome princes come on their horses? It's the way it's been for hundreds of years! It served Cinderella just fine - look how happy she is with Charming." "I'd rather fight a demon bear again." "Eh?!" "Doesn't matter. Anyway, let's go and get birdy girl." \_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_ "Are you sure this is a good idea? I feel awful, I don't think I'm up to this yet." "Look, Snow Globe, I understand that you probably still feel the effects of the Heimlich Maneuver but at least it got that apple wedge out of your throat. Every cloud has it's silver lining! Speaking of clouds, Rapunzel is still up there living in them so send those birds and let's get her down!" Meanwhile, Aurora was stood behind Merida and was waving frantically behind her to Snow White, hoping she would see her distress signal: 'please, help. This woman is a maniac and I want to go to bed, this is not the life I was promised!' Snow White, however, ignored her - not because she disagreed but because saying no to a Scottish woman would inevitably end in a certain death. Up the pigeons went, soaring and swooping until they entered the tower window and high pitched screams shortly followed. "Couldn't you have at least sent her doves?" Aurora sulked. "Not a chance. Have you seen a pigeon? Flying rats, they are! A dove would give you an olive branch, a pigeon would give you the plague. See where I'm going with this? We need her to leave the tower, so pigeons it is!" Suddenly, a thick rope of braided blonde hair fell out the window, so long that the wisps of hair gently touched the grass below. In her fright, Rapunzel had opted to make a 'pulley' out of her hair and abseil her way down the walls. "Would you look at that, she's faster than a redneck on a lawn mower!" With a soft thud, followed the incredibly heavy thud of several tonnes of hair, Rapunzel straightened herself up and shrieked at the sight of three princesses - well, two princesses and a mad woman, staring at her expectantly. "Who are you? What do you want with me? It's my special hair isn't it?! Well I-" "Oh honey, no! We're just ladies on a feminist mission to prove to the people that us princesses don't need men and can save ourselves!" "Princesses?" Aurora and Snow White looked in every direction that wasn't the confused victim of Merida's plan. "Aw, shite. I forgot you didn't know. Aye, we're all princesses - you included - and according to tradition we are all meant to marry princes. You included! Only your future man is a bit of a convict and I honestly wouldn't recommend him." "What?! Wait I need to let this sink in. Are you telling me that-" "There will be no waiting. Right, who's next? How about Ariel? Sea World it is!" And so the brave princess with the hair (and temperament) of a lion dragged her victims on to the next adventure, much to their dismay. Hopefully their princes would come to rescue them very, very soon.	The ugly lizard's mouth gaped, my blade protruding from the back of its neck, covered in sickly fluids. I pulled the blade free, twisting it across the cheek as I pulled, and the monstrous turtle-like creature rolled on to its spiky back, quite dead. "Pathetic," I said as I walked by the corpse across the length of the bridge, cleaning the sword on my wiping rag. It didn't do much good - the rag was already filthy. I grimaced and wiped the blade clean on my cloak instead. Better a dirty cloak than a rusty sword. I sheathed my sword as I came to the end of the bridge and inspected what appeared to be an odd axe-shaped lever sticking from the ground. What had been its purpose? Perhaps it had been a trap that the lizard had failed to use? It had seemed surprised by my appearance. Perhaps it simply didn't have the time. Still, it was best to leave it be. If it was trap, I hardly wanted to become its most recent victim. I moved on into the donjon, where a figured the hostage would be. "Oh, Mari-o..." came a feminine voice. The voice faltered as I entered the room. Across the donjon stood a regal lady, if I've ever seen one. And I've been one, so I know. She was dressed in the cutest pink dress, with a gorgeous blue sapphire inlaid at her collarbone. "You're not my Mario," she said, looking a little crestfallen and mostly confused. "I am not," I said, as I took off my helmet. Cool air touched my face and I could practically feel the sweat evaporating from my hair, which I had tied off in a tight bun. "I take it Mario is your prince?" The princess smiled wryly, "My plumber, as a matter of fact." I was nonplussed. "Your plumber?" Before the princess could respond, a loud voice echoed from the lava chamber behind me. "Mamma mia! Bowser! Who the hell did this to you?" Hurried footsteps followed the exclamation and I turned around to the doorway. Through it came a small man, sporting red overalls and a red hat and a spectacular mustache. "Mario!" the princess exclaimed as the man entered the room. But he ignored her. He stormed straight up to my confused self "What the hell have you done, you monster?" the man cried out, upset clear in his voice. "What in the seven stars were you thinking?" Taken aback, I shot back, "Rescuing your princess from the monsters like you should have been doing!" "There was a power-up I needed to get in world three!" the man exclaimed, throwing up his hands. "It took me four tries! I would have cleared this level just fine, but you went and slaughtered them all!" His voice cracked at the end and he made a small sob, bringing a hand to cover his face. "I- I-" I stammered. "Isn't that what I'm supposed to do? Kill the monster, save the princess?" The man stamped his foot and glared at me. "No. We had a good thing going. I'd jump on the Goombas, send the Koopas rolling, and throw Bowser into a pit, but none of it to try to kill them!" He raised a finger and began to count on his other hand, "Poor Frank the Goomba, he was close to retirement. I found him sliced in two! Blood was- was everywhere and his poor wife Peggy was sobbing over him, trying to put him back together." A second finger on his hand cam out as his pointer finger raised and collided with it again "And Pete Koopa, you stabbed him multiple times, after he went inside his shell! Why would you do that? He wasn't trying to hurt you!" "He tried to walk into me!" I protested, but Mario was already bowling over me. "His brother was there, his knees sliced open. He had crawled over to Pete's shell and was shaking it, trying to convince Pete to come out. He - he just kept shaking it, in a daze, telling Pete the danger had passed. He could come out now. He.. could come out - out now," Mario said between sobs, beginning to hunch over and lose his composure. "I- I don't know what to say," I said, a growing sense of horror rising in me. This seemed to shake Mario and he glared up at me, hatred seething in his eyes. "And finally," he said. "Bowser. My dear, dear friend Bowser. Stabbed through the mouth, and given half of a Glasgow smile. You murderer," he seethed. "You utter monster." I couldn't comprehend any of this. I looked wildly around and saw the princess staring, horrified. Staring at me, tears streaming down her face, fear apparent in her posture. "But, but, they were holding you captive!" I protested. "IT WAS ROLEPLAYING!" Mario bellowed. "We paid good money for it! I have a thing for the rescuing, and Peach has a thing for the being rescued! We do it every year for our anniversary!" Perhaps I should consider a new line of work, I thought to myself.
	[WP] Your family is known for only producing geniuses or idiots. The jury is still out on you, but it's generating plenty of interest.	My eldest sister Katherine Jepsen was just named the youngest ever appointee to the Supreme Court of the United States of America. She graduated from Harvard Law several years early and had spent the intervening years righting wrongs and correcting injustices in wrongful convictions across the country. She is as brilliant and thoughtful a person as I had ever met. My next eldest sister Tatiana "Ta-Ta's" Jepsen was just featured on season 49 of "Still Sort of Keeping Up with the Kardashian's: Isle de Fuego 3". Her role was to cause tension in the family by somehow out bimbo-ing the actual Kardashian's on their own show. She was, to put it as gently as I can, the dumbest human being I had ever encountered in my entire life. Such is the dichotomy of my family. Brilliance or stupidity, geniuses or idiots, yin or yang... never the twain shall meet or overlap in any way. That is until I came along. I was the baby of my family, so my relatives and even some in the outside world were well aware of the all or nothing nature of our familial intelligence. As a result it's fair to say my intellect was zealously examined and questioned from the time I was a very young boy. My earliest memories as a child were my grandparents debating which side of 'the divide' I had fallen on. I had just spelled a word out with blocks on the floor, which my grandmother declared meant that I would be joining the genius side of our clan. My grandfather however noted that the 'word' I had spelled out was "derp" and therefore I was clearly headed to the stupid side of the aisle. At some point in my teenage years I decided, like most teens, to rebel against what I saw as familial pressures being placed upon me. My rebellion was somewhat unique in that my goal wasn't to be a massive partier in a conservative religious family or any of the typical scenarios. I simply wanted to split the difference between genius and idiocy. I desired nothing more than to be viewed as totally average, and thus, render myself unable to be placed in either of my families categorizations. For example, I went to college of course, but I didn't attend the finest school I got into (Harvard) or the worst (Trump University 2.0: Now with 100% More Cardboard Cutouts!). No, I chose to attend Middleton State University in the town of Middlebury, located roughly in the dead center of my state. It appealed because it featured no particularly excellent or dismal rankings from any college ranking survey. It was, by every measure, supremely average. I graduated in 4.5 years as a solid C+ student. While striding proudly on stage to receive my diploma I delighted at the sight of my confused family members seated in the audience arguing fiercely over what my mediocre educational achievements 'meant' for my role in the family. Post college was even an even more difficult landscape for me to navigate. I badly wanted to be successful, but not in a way in which I could ever be mistaken as genius. My indefinably idea came to me one day while browsing the zillion and one photo apps available to me and everyone else in the planet. I noted that those apps with elaborate filters that swapped gender, or aged you, or gave you a puppy dog face were insanely popular. Then and there I resolved to break into this market with the laziest idea I could come up with: "The Tomorrow Filter". The Tomorrow Filter let you snap a photo of what you would look like in the future, exactly how you'd look tomorrow to be specific. Which of course, meant you looked 99.99999% exactly the same, yet somehow I made a boatload of money off it. Brilliant in its sheer stupidity you might say, thoroughly impossible to judge as an intellectual achievement. I could not have been more thrilled. ___ Feel free to check out r/Ryter if you'd like to read more more stories that strive for mediocrity!	The eighteenth birthday of a member of the Duffy clan is a peculiar one. For the first half, at least. The greatest mathematicians, engineers, poets, politicians, gathered in your mum's cooped-up country house, peering expectantly over your breakfast table. Today is the day the Duffy genii either claim you as their own, or leave you for the rest of your life to party and be stupid with the other half of the family. What you have infront of you is a single test, far harder than MacArthur's Program, MENSA; this year's test is simply titled "Observe". You scrawl away on the blank piece of paper. Numbers and symbols cascading across the page, every movement keenly watched by the crowd, trying to ignore your mum's proffered birthday cake. She remains happy though, absent-mindedly peeking over her relative's heads to eye your progress; not that any Duffy Dunce would understand it. Numbers, that is. By midday, used-up pens litter the table. Sheafs of pages are stacked baside you, none of which anyone is allowed to touch. Finally, you slide the last A4 sheet under the stack, sign it with an even messier signature, and leave the table for some much-needed cake. The crowd pounces on your notes, eagerly dissecting it, praising and critiquing it as postmodern, neohumanist, marxist, anarcho-feminist, any expertise they have is thrown at it with the vigour of a child slinging food at the wall. You stoop into the kitchen, where your mum awaits you anxiously with a slice of soggy cake. "Soo, uh...", she ventures, as you take a bite off the paper plate, "I guess you're one of them, then. 'Ol clever type and what 'ave you." "Well, see here, Mum.", you reply, mouth still stuffed, "I don't quite consider myself on one side or the other. But whaddae do know, is that I wrote fifty pages of fuckin' bullshit, and it's up to them to make it clever. I'm offtae the pub."
	[WP] Your family is known for only producing geniuses or idiots. The jury is still out on you, but it's generating plenty of interest.	My eldest sister Katherine Jepsen was just named the youngest ever appointee to the Supreme Court of the United States of America. She graduated from Harvard Law several years early and had spent the intervening years righting wrongs and correcting injustices in wrongful convictions across the country. She is as brilliant and thoughtful a person as I had ever met. My next eldest sister Tatiana "Ta-Ta's" Jepsen was just featured on season 49 of "Still Sort of Keeping Up with the Kardashian's: Isle de Fuego 3". Her role was to cause tension in the family by somehow out bimbo-ing the actual Kardashian's on their own show. She was, to put it as gently as I can, the dumbest human being I had ever encountered in my entire life. Such is the dichotomy of my family. Brilliance or stupidity, geniuses or idiots, yin or yang... never the twain shall meet or overlap in any way. That is until I came along. I was the baby of my family, so my relatives and even some in the outside world were well aware of the all or nothing nature of our familial intelligence. As a result it's fair to say my intellect was zealously examined and questioned from the time I was a very young boy. My earliest memories as a child were my grandparents debating which side of 'the divide' I had fallen on. I had just spelled a word out with blocks on the floor, which my grandmother declared meant that I would be joining the genius side of our clan. My grandfather however noted that the 'word' I had spelled out was "derp" and therefore I was clearly headed to the stupid side of the aisle. At some point in my teenage years I decided, like most teens, to rebel against what I saw as familial pressures being placed upon me. My rebellion was somewhat unique in that my goal wasn't to be a massive partier in a conservative religious family or any of the typical scenarios. I simply wanted to split the difference between genius and idiocy. I desired nothing more than to be viewed as totally average, and thus, render myself unable to be placed in either of my families categorizations. For example, I went to college of course, but I didn't attend the finest school I got into (Harvard) or the worst (Trump University 2.0: Now with 100% More Cardboard Cutouts!). No, I chose to attend Middleton State University in the town of Middlebury, located roughly in the dead center of my state. It appealed because it featured no particularly excellent or dismal rankings from any college ranking survey. It was, by every measure, supremely average. I graduated in 4.5 years as a solid C+ student. While striding proudly on stage to receive my diploma I delighted at the sight of my confused family members seated in the audience arguing fiercely over what my mediocre educational achievements 'meant' for my role in the family. Post college was even an even more difficult landscape for me to navigate. I badly wanted to be successful, but not in a way in which I could ever be mistaken as genius. My indefinably idea came to me one day while browsing the zillion and one photo apps available to me and everyone else in the planet. I noted that those apps with elaborate filters that swapped gender, or aged you, or gave you a puppy dog face were insanely popular. Then and there I resolved to break into this market with the laziest idea I could come up with: "The Tomorrow Filter". The Tomorrow Filter let you snap a photo of what you would look like in the future, exactly how you'd look tomorrow to be specific. Which of course, meant you looked 99.99999% exactly the same, yet somehow I made a boatload of money off it. Brilliant in its sheer stupidity you might say, thoroughly impossible to judge as an intellectual achievement. I could not have been more thrilled. ___ Feel free to check out r/Ryter if you'd like to read more more stories that strive for mediocrity!	My grandmother always believed I’d be one of the Johnson Geniuses. The people who are known around the world for extraordinary things that benefited all of mankind. My cousin was one, my mother was one, my aunt was one and my dad was one. Our family is infamous across the board for achieving amazing feats of intelligence and astonishing feats of stupidity. “Stupidity?” You may ask yourself. “And here I was thinking your family was full of geniuses!” Oh it is. Half of it at least. The rest of it is what you see on the news and ask yourself, “Why the hell would anyone ever do that?” Florida man, look out. Johnson man is coming for your title. My grandma was one of the-lets say unfortunate- ones. The fact that she believed I was a genius should have set of red flags in anyone’s mind at the start. My dad thought I would be one of the idiots because I took after my grandparents. Two of the most infamous idiots in Johnson history. However, that’s not where the verdict ends my friends. See, my mother- one of the smartest people in my family- believed I was neither, which could change our family structure forever. You either had high hopes or no hope at all, not somewhere in between! Suffice to say, everyone was confused about where I stood. Other than me of course. My dad could not figure out how he and mom had a blond child when they were both brunettes. They say I look like my grandparents, but no one’s really sure. My mother and I are the only two who know the truth. I’m adopted.
	[WP] All of your friends had superpowers except you. One day, you stomped on a roach and you felt weird. You felt a buzz as you get a message on your phone from an unknown number. It says "Congrats! You are now level 1."	After that message I suddenly felt more alive. I have not eaten at all that day and prior to the message I was feeling famished, yet, after I stomped on the roach I was no longer hungry, tired, or thirsty. This could have been a prank from one of those assholes I called friends. Then again, what if it was real? I texted and called the number but I was only greeted with silence. There was only one way to get to the bottom of this. I grabbed my dad's shovel from the shed and made my way to the woods behind my house. The woods were riddled with fallen trees and dead wood, the frequent storms in my hometown have aided my endeavors on that front. While ransacking through the decaying homes of common pests, I saw to their annihilation. I spent the rest of that day in the woods, only returning to my home to appease my parent's concern for my absence. I received three more texts that day and with each addition my body was instantaneously altered with increased muscle mass and energy. That night was restless, I was too energetic and eager for more. After a sleepless night, I quietly left the house early in the morning. I figured i'd get some more 'experience' in before school, after three hours of rummaging through the foliage and squashing bugs, I received nothing but fatigue and exhaustion. After school I came back and continued my efforts, alas, nothing. I went back home with an entire body's worth of ache from frantically finding pests to pulverize. Upon reaching my backyard I saw my mother leaving some food and milk out for the stray cats that tend to wonder the neighborhood. I waited at the side of the house for one of the strays. As she stealthily crept to the bowl, I approached her calmly. I told myself there was another way, but I knew there wasn't. The cat was wrongfully unafraid to meet me. I swept her up and she instantly bit my arm and tried to escape, her neck was surprisingly easy to break. I received a text. I took it upon myself to rid the neighborhood of the stray problem. I left food and milk out by the woods and repeated the same process, over and over again. I only leveled up twice from this before running into the same problem as before. I thought this would be my level cap for now, I must be satisfied with this. I was now level seven and nearly four times stronger and faster than before. My friends were worried because they haven't seen me outside of school for a couple of weeks. I told David we could hang out during the upcoming weekend. David was a naturally built track star. He had the innate power to propel flames out of his palms, so when he ran outside of track he looked like an anime character, as he would run with his arms back while his hands propelled him forward. We called him 'Anime Dave'. Dave and I liked to swim in a nearby lake, it had a 'Tarzan' swing that hung over the water. Dave would use it to work on flying. He could never get the hang of it, at best he levitated a few seconds above the water before gravity welcomed him back into her embrace. We met at the lake that day, about to take a dip into the water. While taking my shirt off I noticed Dave gasp, "How the hell? Since when do you work out?". I forgot about my alterations, "Ehh, a couple months ago I guess.". I really wish Dave never figured out about the cause behind my newfound strength, but as a regular in the town's only gym, he met my story with some skepticism. I thought I had to confide in someone, and who better than Dave? Dave's reaction was worse than expected. "Dude, you've been killing cats to get muscles? That's fucking sick in the head man, I have a cat you know.". Embarrassed and ashamed, I lashed out, "I'm not going to kill your dumb cat dipshit, and you don't understand just how stronger I have become from this.". Dave scoffed at that. "Just how strong really? You're killing helpless animals you weak pus..." Dave's interruption was due to my fist flying into his rib cage. Dave crashed into a tree and laid silent as he sat against it. I was instantly worried so I went to go check on him, "Dave, oh no, shit, shit, shit, Dave! You okay?" As I was lifting his head to check on his condition, he greeted me with a ball of fire shoved into my face, I felt my eyeball dripping out of my socket. I screamed and kicked down on Dave as hard as I could. Suddenly my vision came back and my phone vibrated, three times. I don't know what came over me at that moment, the burst of energy coupled with the massive body alteration must have delivered a sense of euphoria. I was deeply sad of Dave's fate, but I disposed his remains into the lake and ran back home. Later that night, police knocked on the door asking about Dave. His parents must have declared him missing. Before my parents had a chance to say anything, I told them I was only with Dave for about twenty minutes, after which he went to the lake with a group of strange kids. The police asked for a description of the kids, and I surprised myself with how well my mind was able to fabricate a description so quick, with minute details as well. I thought that would throw them off my trail. After the police left, my parents were skeptical of my story. "I thought you were with Dave all day?". My mother looked at me with a great deal of concern on her face. "Mom, it's not what you think, okay? I left Dave and went on a walk by myself, I'm telling the truth and as my mother, I hope you would believe your son, especially considering the circumstances.". That stopped mother in her tracks, this was going better than expected, I thought. "Cut the bullshit son, what happened to Dave?". My father always saw through my deceptions, there is never going to be an answer that satisfies him unless it's the truth. So, I answered truthfully, and I stripped down to my boxers to display the evidence of my circumstances. "I lost control of my newfound strength!" I yelled and tried to muster up tears to help plea my case, they would not fall however, I felt too good. Mother was in shambles and father fell to the couch in disbelief. They argued among themselves after, figuring out their next course of actions. Mother was urging my father to back up my story to the police, but father insisted I turn myself in. Why did his altruistic nature have to be in play at this moment, of all moments? "I'm not turning myself in, we can move past this dad, we can continue to live life and put this whole thing behind us.", I was starting to get a little upset. "You murdered that poor boy son, you and you alone are accountable for your actions. So you, and you alone will face the consequences.". Father was starting to piss me off. "You don't want to make an enemy out of me dad.". He lifted me in the air with his giant-like strength. "You don't want to be an enemy of the people son, because then you make an enemy out of your father!". All the while, mother screamed and pleaded with father to let me go. There was no need for that, I grabbed fathers wrist and simply squeezed. He screamed out in pain and I watched his wrist dangle as if there were no more life inside of it. Father closed his eyes for a moment, he tended to do that when he was about to do something he had no desire of doing. He screamed, "Damn you son! Damn you!", all while charging at me. His feet shaking the whole house as if a stampede were in the living room. I greeted his head with the back of my hand and he crashed through the front door. My phone vibrated twice. After mother realized father was out of the picture, she attempted to call the police back to the house. I stopped her, with no vibrations from my phone this time. However, one of the neighbors must have called because they came soon after anyway. Guns were drawn on me as I exited my home, "On the ground, now!", a sea of uniforms were screaming at me. I felt too good to buckle at the whim of such weak spirits though, and I approached their makeshift blockade of cars and troops. I heard a symphony of gunfire, and closed my eyes to further enjoy it. After the noise ceased, I took in the grand smell of expended gun powder. Apparently my skin was stronger than steel now, and my strength was, well let's just say I made short work of the cops. My phone only vibrated once though, pity. A squadron of gifted were called onto me, with such pathetic powers it's not even worth mentioning. Now, nothing could stop me from leveling up, not tanks, helicopters, bombs, or even the world's finest gifted, I was a god. I never realized how low-level the human race was. A world's worth of toppled governments later, I'm running out of foes to garner experience from. I've assembled a team of scientists to focus on one goal and one goal only. Find me a world worthy of conquest.	"Who just drops a roach on the sidewalk?" asked Yeen. She flicked some crookie crumbs from her wacomm. "I don't know," replied You, "I guess it's too much to ask for people to be careful with their habits." "Oh fuck, did the cops get ya?" asked Yeen. "Yeah," replied You. He pulled out his cell and flashed the most recent message towards Yeen. She leaned over, her face already scrunching up in anticipated disgust before her eyes could even read the screen. "Ah, level 1 felony possession," confirmed Yeen. "You gonna fight that?" "Can I have your superpowers?" asked You. Yeen let loose a sigh as she sunk back into the couch. "Nah man, you need a lawyer."
	[WP] All of your friends had superpowers except you. One day, you stomped on a roach and you felt weird. You felt a buzz as you get a message on your phone from an unknown number. It says "Congrats! You are now level 1."	“Level 1? What- what does this mean?” I questioned the phone, glancing up out of the window to find my friends flying around the city, firing lasers made out of whatever their power was. Some were fire-type, some were water-type, and some were fire-AND-water-type. Then what was I? I sat down, chatted with a few of my friends, just to see how they had gotten their powers. “For me, it was when I first put out a fire engulfing my house.” A fire-type said. “For me, it was because I survived the recent flood in Asia.” A water-type said. And based on my results, that meant that I could only have one power. The power of the sewers. And, true enough, I was able to somehow manipulate pests and creepy crawlies. “This is great!” I cheered as I pulled another prank on my friends. But how did I level up? That was one thing I didn’t know, so I just kept pulling pranks. I liked that lifestyle better anyway. Well, I _did_, until one day, a Friend of mine had an asthma attack due to one of my pranks. He died that same day. .. Pacing back and forth in my room, I couldn’t make sense of the last text I got. It just didn’t feel right. I couldn’t, but it had to be done. It was kill or be killed in this world. One hand on the doorknob, I exited my apartment, the other hand grasping tightly my hitlist, and my phone, which read,”Congrats! You are now level 2. Abilities unlocked: Advanced Creature Control. _Click Here_ to view advanced creature movements, with the text in the link already purple. And, one last thing. Abilities inherited. You are now a level 100 poison-type.	"Who just drops a roach on the sidewalk?" asked Yeen. She flicked some crookie crumbs from her wacomm. "I don't know," replied You, "I guess it's too much to ask for people to be careful with their habits." "Oh fuck, did the cops get ya?" asked Yeen. "Yeah," replied You. He pulled out his cell and flashed the most recent message towards Yeen. She leaned over, her face already scrunching up in anticipated disgust before her eyes could even read the screen. "Ah, level 1 felony possession," confirmed Yeen. "You gonna fight that?" "Can I have your superpowers?" asked You. Yeen let loose a sigh as she sunk back into the couch. "Nah man, you need a lawyer."
	[WP] All of your friends had superpowers except you. One day, you stomped on a roach and you felt weird. You felt a buzz as you get a message on your phone from an unknown number. It says "Congrats! You are now level 1."	This weird feeling... I thought it was out of the ordinary, but my phone confirmed it all... My stomach grumbled and I felt better, even though I ate very little for breakfast this morning. That's when I saw the cockroach on the pavement was... dusty... grey... As if life got sucked from it. I got taken aback by the vision of the crushed dust around the already disgusting insect, so I decided to keep going. At the end of the day, when I was returning home from the University I felt like I was being followed. Nothing like the feeling of being watched we feel at some point. No... I felt like I was in danger... I was on the same street I walked through every day and it appeared normal. But my gut screamed beware. And so it happened. Dustin jumped me, like he loved to do. His invisibility power was handy when he walked carefully and I was the main target because... Well I couldn't react. Until just now. Before Dustin jumped I just randomly felt an urge to take a long step back. As I jumped I was able to see him jump where I was, as if I'd known he'd jump. Not only that but I also threw a roundhouse kick to the left and grazed him on the arm. "Dustin?" I couldn't understand what just happened. "Dude what the hell?!?! You almost hit me!!!" Understanding the situation a little bit more I replied: "So did you! I just noticed and reacted the way I do in our martial a..." "You what? Noticed? I was standing still and you know no one can see me or hear me when I stand still!" He was right. I had no idea of how I knew where he was standing and reacted on cue to the attack. "If you saw me then Andy must have warned you. That's the only way you could see me without having powers like you do!" I tried to say Andy didn't dare warn me but Dustin was gone before I could say a word. I went home. Upon opening my door I wasn't greeted by my dog... Unusual, I thought. Then I saw why... My dog was sitting in the couch and when he saw me come in he instantly threw a gaze to my cabinet. He never jumps on the couch. I put down my backpack and grabbed the door weight I had. It was a metal ball with a flattened bottom to keep it from moving and most importantly, it was very heavy. I slowly made my way to the cabinet and opened up the door with my foot. My dog started to shuffle on the couch. That's when I saw... 3 rats eating a banana I saved for a snack and forgot. The feeling of dread I felt on the street before getting jumped by Dustin came back stronger. I instantly pulled back my foot and threw the weight were it was. As if rehearsed, a rat jumped to bite my foot and instantly got squashed by the metal ball I dropped. I couldn't believe it. My senses felt sharper, stronger than ever before. I didn't have time to praise myself though. A second rat ran off. I knew it would, somehow, I just knew. I had thrown a vase that was sitting in the top shelf. It trapped the rat and didn't break. The third rat tried to jump me instead of running. I managed to hold him back with the sole of my boot. Then I simply slammed the door of the cabinet shut with my other hand. The rat got cut in half like it was a scene from a gory, poorly directed, movie. I gulped at the sight and my dog got down from the couch. Eleven p.m. the clock indicated. After laying down and resting for an hour I felt like it was time to clean all the blood. But there wasn't any... "That's impossible", I thought, after all, I had seen the blood spurt all over my carpet, but it was gone. No stains, no puddles... no corpses. the crushed rat had disappeared, the rat that I attacked with the door wasn't there either. The one I trapped... was dead. But like the cockroach, it's body was grey and dusty. And after less than a minute it disappeared. I gave it some thought and my conclusion was that, unlike his friends, he didn't die immediately, rather, it died long after and that made his corpse still be there. Then I checked my phone again. "Message from unknown contact: Congrats! You are now level 2. Sent 10:50 p.m." "Message from unknown contact: Congrats! You are now level 3. Sent 11:57 p.m." Not only did I now know what this was about, I could explain exactly what happened. The cockroach, the rats, all I killed... They made me stronger. Somehow, me killing then was making me more aware, more nimble. The time of the second message matches the time I killed the first rat. And the third message matches the time the trapped rat would've died. Now I knew what this was all about. Yes, I played RPGs all my life and finally connected the dots. "How could I have not noticed before?" I muttered to myself. The message I received when I was 10, playing on my mother's phone. I still vaguely remember it. "Hello adventurer! How are you doing today?" The same day I was made fun of by my classmates. Like always. "Good" I replied, I was just too naïve to not reply to a strange message. "Well, well! How would you like to be stronger?" I laughed back then. Even at age 10 I could tell this was weird. I shrugged and said "Sure". My mom interrupted by asking for her phone to make a phone call and of course I let her use her own phone. When I got it back all the messages were gone. I saw my mom make the call, she didn't delete them. I looked around but no sign so I just forgot about it. Today it all makes sense. All the pain I endured for being "special", just because I couldn't do anything special. The bullying from the gifted kids, the effort I had to put to be able to get to Uni... All just because I couldn't have a single special skill. After all that effort to be in the top of my class in grades and fighting abilities didn't matter because, well, without powers, it doesn't matter how good of a kick or punch you can throw, anyone with something else can get you off balance, especially in this University where the top class contains the most gifted students of this generation. I had to be the best at everything I could. Doesn't matter if I'm smart enough, strong enough, quick enough. I still got bullied by those damn lucky guys who could use their powers to surpass me. Well... Not anymore. I will surpass all that once attacked me. All that, for being strong, target the weak. All that because of their power see themselves as superior. I will surpass the strong to protect the weak, make them no longer fear the strong. Make it so no one ever goes through what I had to go through. I know that in the south, there are special hunting areas for training with powers that don't forbid killing wild predators. That will be my training ground. I will strengthen myself by killing all that threaten me. The roach I killed was an accident, the rats weren't. Now I'll keep going with leveling up, I will keep increasing my senses until I surpass all powers on our city, no, our world!	"Who just drops a roach on the sidewalk?" asked Yeen. She flicked some crookie crumbs from her wacomm. "I don't know," replied You, "I guess it's too much to ask for people to be careful with their habits." "Oh fuck, did the cops get ya?" asked Yeen. "Yeah," replied You. He pulled out his cell and flashed the most recent message towards Yeen. She leaned over, her face already scrunching up in anticipated disgust before her eyes could even read the screen. "Ah, level 1 felony possession," confirmed Yeen. "You gonna fight that?" "Can I have your superpowers?" asked You. Yeen let loose a sigh as she sunk back into the couch. "Nah man, you need a lawyer."
	[WP] All of your friends had superpowers except you. One day, you stomped on a roach and you felt weird. You felt a buzz as you get a message on your phone from an unknown number. It says "Congrats! You are now level 1."	This weird feeling... I thought it was out of the ordinary, but my phone confirmed it all... My stomach grumbled and I felt better, even though I ate very little for breakfast this morning. That's when I saw the cockroach on the pavement was... dusty... grey... As if life got sucked from it. I got taken aback by the vision of the crushed dust around the already disgusting insect, so I decided to keep going. At the end of the day, when I was returning home from the University I felt like I was being followed. Nothing like the feeling of being watched we feel at some point. No... I felt like I was in danger... I was on the same street I walked through every day and it appeared normal. But my gut screamed beware. And so it happened. Dustin jumped me, like he loved to do. His invisibility power was handy when he walked carefully and I was the main target because... Well I couldn't react. Until just now. Before Dustin jumped I just randomly felt an urge to take a long step back. As I jumped I was able to see him jump where I was, as if I'd known he'd jump. Not only that but I also threw a roundhouse kick to the left and grazed him on the arm. "Dustin?" I couldn't understand what just happened. "Dude what the hell?!?! You almost hit me!!!" Understanding the situation a little bit more I replied: "So did you! I just noticed and reacted the way I do in our martial a..." "You what? Noticed? I was standing still and you know no one can see me or hear me when I stand still!" He was right. I had no idea of how I knew where he was standing and reacted on cue to the attack. "If you saw me then Andy must have warned you. That's the only way you could see me without having powers like you do!" I tried to say Andy didn't dare warn me but Dustin was gone before I could say a word. I went home. Upon opening my door I wasn't greeted by my dog... Unusual, I thought. Then I saw why... My dog was sitting in the couch and when he saw me come in he instantly threw a gaze to my cabinet. He never jumps on the couch. I put down my backpack and grabbed the door weight I had. It was a metal ball with a flattened bottom to keep it from moving and most importantly, it was very heavy. I slowly made my way to the cabinet and opened up the door with my foot. My dog started to shuffle on the couch. That's when I saw... 3 rats eating a banana I saved for a snack and forgot. The feeling of dread I felt on the street before getting jumped by Dustin came back stronger. I instantly pulled back my foot and threw the weight were it was. As if rehearsed, a rat jumped to bite my foot and instantly got squashed by the metal ball I dropped. I couldn't believe it. My senses felt sharper, stronger than ever before. I didn't have time to praise myself though. A second rat ran off. I knew it would, somehow, I just knew. I had thrown a vase that was sitting in the top shelf. It trapped the rat and didn't break. The third rat tried to jump me instead of running. I managed to hold him back with the sole of my boot. Then I simply slammed the door of the cabinet shut with my other hand. The rat got cut in half like it was a scene from a gory, poorly directed, movie. I gulped at the sight and my dog got down from the couch. Eleven p.m. the clock indicated. After laying down and resting for an hour I felt like it was time to clean all the blood. But there wasn't any... "That's impossible", I thought, after all, I had seen the blood spurt all over my carpet, but it was gone. No stains, no puddles... no corpses. the crushed rat had disappeared, the rat that I attacked with the door wasn't there either. The one I trapped... was dead. But like the cockroach, it's body was grey and dusty. And after less than a minute it disappeared. I gave it some thought and my conclusion was that, unlike his friends, he didn't die immediately, rather, it died long after and that made his corpse still be there. Then I checked my phone again. "Message from unknown contact: Congrats! You are now level 2. Sent 10:50 p.m." "Message from unknown contact: Congrats! You are now level 3. Sent 11:57 p.m." Not only did I now know what this was about, I could explain exactly what happened. The cockroach, the rats, all I killed... They made me stronger. Somehow, me killing then was making me more aware, more nimble. The time of the second message matches the time I killed the first rat. And the third message matches the time the trapped rat would've died. Now I knew what this was all about. Yes, I played RPGs all my life and finally connected the dots. "How could I have not noticed before?" I muttered to myself. The message I received when I was 10, playing on my mother's phone. I still vaguely remember it. "Hello adventurer! How are you doing today?" The same day I was made fun of by my classmates. Like always. "Good" I replied, I was just too naïve to not reply to a strange message. "Well, well! How would you like to be stronger?" I laughed back then. Even at age 10 I could tell this was weird. I shrugged and said "Sure". My mom interrupted by asking for her phone to make a phone call and of course I let her use her own phone. When I got it back all the messages were gone. I saw my mom make the call, she didn't delete them. I looked around but no sign so I just forgot about it. Today it all makes sense. All the pain I endured for being "special", just because I couldn't do anything special. The bullying from the gifted kids, the effort I had to put to be able to get to Uni... All just because I couldn't have a single special skill. After all that effort to be in the top of my class in grades and fighting abilities didn't matter because, well, without powers, it doesn't matter how good of a kick or punch you can throw, anyone with something else can get you off balance, especially in this University where the top class contains the most gifted students of this generation. I had to be the best at everything I could. Doesn't matter if I'm smart enough, strong enough, quick enough. I still got bullied by those damn lucky guys who could use their powers to surpass me. Well... Not anymore. I will surpass all that once attacked me. All that, for being strong, target the weak. All that because of their power see themselves as superior. I will surpass the strong to protect the weak, make them no longer fear the strong. Make it so no one ever goes through what I had to go through. I know that in the south, there are special hunting areas for training with powers that don't forbid killing wild predators. That will be my training ground. I will strengthen myself by killing all that threaten me. The roach I killed was an accident, the rats weren't. Now I'll keep going with leveling up, I will keep increasing my senses until I surpass all powers on our city, no, our world!	“Level 1? What- what does this mean?” I questioned the phone, glancing up out of the window to find my friends flying around the city, firing lasers made out of whatever their power was. Some were fire-type, some were water-type, and some were fire-AND-water-type. Then what was I? I sat down, chatted with a few of my friends, just to see how they had gotten their powers. “For me, it was when I first put out a fire engulfing my house.” A fire-type said. “For me, it was because I survived the recent flood in Asia.” A water-type said. And based on my results, that meant that I could only have one power. The power of the sewers. And, true enough, I was able to somehow manipulate pests and creepy crawlies. “This is great!” I cheered as I pulled another prank on my friends. But how did I level up? That was one thing I didn’t know, so I just kept pulling pranks. I liked that lifestyle better anyway. Well, I _did_, until one day, a Friend of mine had an asthma attack due to one of my pranks. He died that same day. .. Pacing back and forth in my room, I couldn’t make sense of the last text I got. It just didn’t feel right. I couldn’t, but it had to be done. It was kill or be killed in this world. One hand on the doorknob, I exited my apartment, the other hand grasping tightly my hitlist, and my phone, which read,”Congrats! You are now level 2. Abilities unlocked: Advanced Creature Control. _Click Here_ to view advanced creature movements, with the text in the link already purple. And, one last thing. Abilities inherited. You are now a level 100 poison-type.
	[WP] You are an immortal who has passed the time joining various armies and honing your skills. You've witnessesd all the great conflicts from the fall of Rome to both World Wars. This time you are trying to join the U.S. Marines, and have decided to have a bit of fun with your Drill Sergeant.	Basic training, every time it is the same. Train your bodies to find your limits of performance, ready your mind to function under the most stressful conditions. Instill honor and sense of duty to make you an unflinching command obeying machine. I have no use for it. I'm not here for the orders, I could care less who wins, I'm just here for the entertainment. My physical limitations are well beyond that of any mortal. The rate at which my cells regenerate make me virtually impervious to fatigue or strain. I can run for days straight without food or water. In war the biggest mental hindrance is fear of death. Well, not only do I not fear death, but yearn for it. The Spartans had it right; train to embrace death in glory on the battlefield. These cultures today have such a twisted relationship with death. Fearing and trying so desperately to avoid the one thing that for them is inevitable, not realizing the gift in such a release or the millennia of monotony to follow if they successfully evade death. That fear is why no war heroes today can compare to those of old, yes, the age of the true warrior is long dead. &#x200B; But this training is a necessary thing for me to be allowed to take part in the only thing that excites me after all these years. The only difficulty I have in it is not raising suspicions. Finding that balance of just appearing to be at the top of my game without letting on to my differences. It has been so long that I forget what is "normal" and easily go beyond that if not careful, so I just try to stick with the herd, but stand out just enough for the possibility of special, or more exciting assignments. &#x200B; Drill instructors these days are so proud and sure of their methods, so hard and disciplined, so focused on loyalty. Most of them haven't a clue how to make any real soldiers. It's not their fault, just the way they were taught, and their instructors were taught. Although, I must admit that my current drill instructor has shown hints of older knowledge. He doesn't use the threat of death to scare people into complacency and obedience. Instead he talks of it as close to being honorable as one can get without using the words, that there are better ways to die than dropping a grenade or panicking and running. Of course he can't tell people to embrace it, for that would be too far against the narrative, but he shows glimpses of understanding that I have not seen in mortal men in a long time. I am both somewhat surprised and intrigued, perhaps I can push to see just how deep rooted these old philosophies are in this young man. &#x200B; One morning I decide to stay late in my rack, waiting for the shit storm to start. As his differences were there he was not above many of the current tactics of intimidation and fear of punishment that are standard in military training this day and age. &#x200B; As I do my best to act undisturbed by the morning commotion and revelry only to bring myself up and to attention in a scramble as the yelling begins, I know that he already has me in his sights. &#x200B; "I'm Sorry Recruit, Did We Disturb Your Beauty Sleep?, Were You Waiting For The Smell Of Mama's Frying Bacon? Or Did You Just Miss The Snooze Button?" He screamed as he approached with the last question spouted out so close to my face I was assailed by saliva coming off the over enunciated T sound. &#x200B; "Sir, I Was Un-Aware There Is A Snooze Button, Sir" I reported back. There were brief snickers at that from a distant corner of the barracks, somebody appreciated my humor, but the Sergent ignored it and stayed focused on me. &#x200B; "There Is No Snooze Button In War Recruit, You Can't Tell Your Enemy To Give You Five More Minutes, They Would Not Hesitate To Kill You In Your Sleep. How Would That Make You Feel? I'm Sure You'd Get Plenty Of Rest Then!" &#x200B; "Sir, That Would Make Me Feel That My Enemy Must Be Incredibly Dishonorable To Kill A Sleeping Man, Sir" As I said this I let my gaze slip to meet his eye just long enough to try to gauge a reaction, but received nothing. &#x200B; "And Just What Makes You Expect Your Enemy To Have Any Honor?" His voice dropped a notch from his standard disciplinary yell, but only ever so slightly... &#x200B; I paused for a moment as though to contemplate this before my reply "Sir, You Make A Good Point Sir, I Have No Evidence That Honor Has A Place In War In This Day And Age, Sir". At that, I saw it; a brief pause, a crack in the shell, for a split second I swear I saw a flash of remorse, or maybe just disappointment in his eyes, But only his eyes. His Face stayed hard and his posture strong and tall. &#x200B; "You Are The Only One That Can Bring Honor Into Battle Recruit," he turned to the rest of the barracks "Each And Everyone Of You Bring Your Own Honor To The Field, But It Would Be Foolish To Expect The Same From Your Enemies Or Anyone Else" he turned his head ever so slightly in my direction to add " In This Day And Age." "As For You Recruit, You Just Signed Up For Night Watch Tonight, To Protect Your Brothers In Arms From These Dishonorable Enemies, No Shifts, Just You, Alone To Defend Honor, Is That Understood?" &#x200B; "Sir, Yes, Sir." &#x200B; The rest of the day was uneventful. I kept an eye on the sergeant for any more signs that what I had said had struck a chord, but it was right back to business as usual. Pt, mess, live fire training, he never broke his normal character. The only thing was that all though he made no extra effort on my behalf I could tell he had a different air about him, at least toward me. &#x200B; Finally, rack time came. All my fellow recruits bunked up and the lights went out. I don't really need to sleep, though I do enjoy it. It is the only break I get from the passage of time. I resigned myself to go about my duties patrolling the barracks in and around. As I headed to the head I could feel something wasn't right. I had been in there twice already with no disturbances, truthfully it was a dreadfully quiet night overall, but this time I knew I wasn't alone. Out of the darkness the drill sergeant strolled, not in his normal posture, but at ease to the point that I almost didn't recognize his movements. I stopped and came to attention, but he waved me off. "no need for that now, I bring no rank tonight, I just want to talk some real talk." I had gotten to him, but I was unsure how to proceed. His informality was out of place in this setting. &#x200B; "How long have you been at this soldier?" he asked in a tone that struck me as even more odd than the question itself. &#x200B; "I joined the corps 3 weeks ago sir, you've been my instructor since day one" I still found my self in a very intentional 'at ease' position. I still didn't know what to make of this. &#x200B; "No, no, no, I mean how many wars? how long have you been around?" &#x200B; "I don't know what you mean sir." could he possibly be asking what I think he's asking? did I really let myself slip that much? How could he even know or guess the possibility that I am what I am. All that was answered with his next question. &#x200B; "Cut the crap, drop the act, can you really not recognize your own kind?" &#x200B; Edit: this is my first post here and I've never considered myself a writer, feedback is welcome. edit 2: made a couple corrections as suggested by u/deathcharge8, thanks. I did leave in the sir sandwich though.	So I've been at this for a few hundred years. Big deal. When you have nothing bu time on your hands you can learn just about anything. Except how to make a good waffle. Haven't quite mastered that one yet. You'd think it would be simple.. just follow a good recipe. Nope, I still either make a burnt crisp or a floppy disk. In any case, that's not why I am here today. After fighting in so many wars from the fall of Rome to the latest 'skirmishes' I figured I would see how the Marines these days did it. I mean, how hard could it be? These guys were amateurs compared to what I've been through. On day 3 after signing up and making it to the basic training camp this arrogant ass of a drill Sargent shows up and starts calling us all 'pussies' and yelling at us to go back home to mommie. Well I had planned to hang out and just see if these guys could keep up with me. But this bastard just wouldn't let up. Screw him! I am letting loose and I'll show him who's a pussy! After a few gruelling days of running, push ups, crawling through the mud and all kinds of creative assholeness. He still hadn't beat me. Others dropped like flies. On one particular evening after 14 hours of his bull and still no food, I had enough. He screamed at us to drop and do another 100 pushups. "Screw you," i said, "you ain't got nothin I can't handle!" It was at this point he stopped his yelling and walked over to face me. Looking me deep in the eyes he quietly whispered, "Ya think you're tough huh? Got some balls on ya?" "Yes sir!" I said confidently. Raising his voice a bit so everyone could hear, "Well then, it's time for a showdown." And proceeded to walk to an open dirt pit. Glancing back at me he says, "Well, ya coming pretty boy?" So we face off and he proceeds to kick the living g shit out of me. I tried every known skill, style and dirty trick I had ever learned. But he countered every single one and turned each into a painful experience. This was the first time I ever thought I would really die. Damn he was tough. When I finally could t get up anymore and could hardly breath, he bent down and whispered into my ear, "Now I know you been around the block a few hundred times, but let me tell you somethin. I been doin this since cavemen first built a fire. You and me are gonna have some fun these next few years. See if you can keep up will ya?" Damn, I may not make it guys. This Marine shit ain't no joke!
	[WP] You are a retired super villain. You have put your past behind and started a family. Your daughter loves nothing more than a good vs evil showdown. But no one bothers being a super villain anymore. So on her 6th birthday you decide to put on the cape of doom for her sake one last time.	I sigh. Its not real. Its just gonna be staged to look real for her sake. I gotta call up someone who will help me out here. I call my former arch nemesis "Super-Guy" and ask him if he would be willing to help me out. "And why should i help you? You are a villan and always will be." He says before i can even explain what i want him to do. "Please. I just want us to stage a fake fight for my daughter's 6th birthday. She loves fights between good and evil." I respond, hoping to change his mind. "A chance to beat the crap out of you? I would have done that without you even asking." "I dont want anyone to get hurt in this. I just want a fake battle between us without any injuries." "Pfft i can easily break your spine in half. Even if i tried to hold back i would kill you." "You haven't managed to kill me or badly injure me before" I say mockingly. "ALRIGHT THATS IT!" he shouts before promptly hanging up the phone. I should probably be concerned about this. But my best bet is to just grab my costume and get outside in the view of my daughter. A fake fight is no longer on the menu. "Hey there sweetie" i say to my daughter, "my arch nemesis is coming over for a fight. He sounded pretty mad." Her face lights up. Before i can say anything else i hear a loud chrashing sound in my front yard. "GET OUT HERE, NOW!" Uh oh. That was faster than expected. I tell my daughter to look out the front window while i head outside. "Hey there. Nice to see you again. Glad you ca-" he cuts me off. "YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST INSULT ME AND GET AWAY WITH IT?! YOU ARE GOING DOWN!" he says. His eyes have turned red. You can almost smell his rage. Or maybe that is just his costume that hasnt been washed for who knows how long. "Listen. I dont want anyone getting hurt. I just want my daughter to ha-" he cuts me off again. "ENOUGH TALKI-" this time I cut him off. How the turns have tabled. "I WASNT FINISHED!" a silence breaks out between us "As you know, its my daughter's birthday and i just want-" he punched me in the face. I fall back and onto the ground. He floats up into the air and prepares for another strike. I quickly roll out of the way as he throws a punch and breaks the sidewalk where i was. Thats not good. I quickly hop up and float upward as well. He attempts to attack me again but i barely dodge out of the way. He shouts at the top of his lungs and rushes in for another punch. He doesn't understand limits very well. This goes on for about 5 minutes when he starts slowing down. He tired himself out way to quickly. He "rushes" over to me with his right arm up, ready to throw another punch. I very easily dodge out of the way and laugh. I grab him and slam him into the ground. "Thanks for showing up." I look to my house and see my daughter cheering about what had happened. "My daughter seems happy. You can go now." I walk toward him and... Oh. I accidentally broke his spine in one hit. "Ironic" I say as i walk back into my house to call an ambulance and his wife. When i grt off the phone my daughter runs up to me and hugs my leg. "That was AMAZING! Best birthday ever!" She says. I pat her head and go hang up my costume. Hopefully for the last time. I just want to take a nap.	Scrambling around in the loft, tripping over boxes and kicking up dust, it was hard to focus on why I was bothering. There's a reason that what I seek has been locked away for years. A reason that has settled not only me, but the community down. My headline creating escapades are over. Yet, every time I close my eyes, I see a pleading smile - a face begging for a show of unrepentant destruction. This was just a charade, a pantomime for my daughter. Nothing will come of it. Reaching the destination, a black leather briefcase buried beneath my old costume. Dusting it down and smoothing out creases, I slowly button up the top half of my discarded second skin. The collar is still crisp enough to hold shape. The white has faded to an entry grey, yet the power of wearing the old suit surges through my body. I scramble to pull the trousers up and fasten the belt hastily. The briefcase follows me down the ladder into the light of day. Unlocking the case, I slowly pull out numerous pages detailing the greatest destruction the world has ever seen. A masterplan weaved into the fabric of society; a drug so pernacious billions of people were hooked for decades. My punishment? A lavish house, seemingly endless funds and a quiet life. The thrill of running my fingers beneath the numbers accumulated is exhillerating. Stopping myself before long lost lust hijacks my newfound logic, I call for my daughter. Appearing at the door, she gleefully leaps into the chair opposite me. Her pink pajamas providing the perfect antidote for my threads of terror. I smile and show her the pages. Talking through what her father did throughout his working life and how, because of it, the world he knew is no longer the world visible to his little girl. She laps it up, giggling at every gruesome tale of destruction caused by my insatiable desire for financial gain. She was not here for a history lesson of my lifetime of destruction, however, and I knew she'd become restless. Curtailing the story, I ask what she wants to see most of all. Through a magical smile, she utters four simple words in a voice of syrupy sweetness "let the world panic". Struggling to discourage my daughter and becoming overpowered by the suit's hold over me, I reach for my phone. Opening up social media, a new surge of excitement thunders through me. Despite all of my efforts to cage this beast and be content with the spoils of my dominance, I could not resist. From the company's account, I write "Today marks a return of human prosperity. Climate changes has wreaked it's havoc, it's time for human ingenuity to run the rule once again. We have the knowledge and the equipment to flood the earth not in water, but oil. We will fix this mess with hard work and desire. We will power the future, and the future starts today". Within a few moments, my wife bellows from across the house to join her in the front room. Arriving, it's clear she is not happy. Something has agitated her, and it seems the news anchor on television. Spotting my discoloured, dusty suit, she tears the shirt from my torso. Telling my impressed daughter to return to her bedroom, she simply implores me to sit. The quiet exacerbates the freedom from the collard shirt; the impact my nonchalant updated social media slowly but surely buries me in guilt. I nearly caused the extinction of a planet before my wife managed to make me to see the errors or my greed. And now our offspring, her delightful smile eroding my new self, and the suit constricting the sense from the brain, have ignited a new war. A battle my daughter is sitting on the stairs watching begin anew.
	[WP] You are a retired super villain. You have put your past behind and started a family. Your daughter loves nothing more than a good vs evil showdown. But no one bothers being a super villain anymore. So on her 6th birthday you decide to put on the cape of doom for her sake one last time.	If didnt end well. He won. He destroyed everything. I'm lying here practically dying. 10 years ago I put on the Cape and got my gear together and had my last fight with Titan. But I think he go real tired of this. He didnt hold back. Shown no mercy and no remorse. After 30 minutes I was sent to the hospital. She knows. After 10 long years she knows everything. Shes even invented a weather control device. I saw the news. Titan challenged by a 16 year old called Maelstrom. She terrified him she screamed "this is vengeance for dad" and caused the biggest thunderstorm this damn city has ever seen. First I was scared. Scared that he would kill her. But now I'm proud. She wears my mantle with pride and she made t greater. Now she is unstoppable. As she walks in for her last visit with me before they take me off life support I hand her a key. "This is the key to the dreadvault. End him, his family and everyone else who stands in you're way. My greatest creation, my biggest pride ever is in there." Little will she know that the vault has 56 photos of her throughout her life. That and a REALLY big gun	Scrambling around in the loft, tripping over boxes and kicking up dust, it was hard to focus on why I was bothering. There's a reason that what I seek has been locked away for years. A reason that has settled not only me, but the community down. My headline creating escapades are over. Yet, every time I close my eyes, I see a pleading smile - a face begging for a show of unrepentant destruction. This was just a charade, a pantomime for my daughter. Nothing will come of it. Reaching the destination, a black leather briefcase buried beneath my old costume. Dusting it down and smoothing out creases, I slowly button up the top half of my discarded second skin. The collar is still crisp enough to hold shape. The white has faded to an entry grey, yet the power of wearing the old suit surges through my body. I scramble to pull the trousers up and fasten the belt hastily. The briefcase follows me down the ladder into the light of day. Unlocking the case, I slowly pull out numerous pages detailing the greatest destruction the world has ever seen. A masterplan weaved into the fabric of society; a drug so pernacious billions of people were hooked for decades. My punishment? A lavish house, seemingly endless funds and a quiet life. The thrill of running my fingers beneath the numbers accumulated is exhillerating. Stopping myself before long lost lust hijacks my newfound logic, I call for my daughter. Appearing at the door, she gleefully leaps into the chair opposite me. Her pink pajamas providing the perfect antidote for my threads of terror. I smile and show her the pages. Talking through what her father did throughout his working life and how, because of it, the world he knew is no longer the world visible to his little girl. She laps it up, giggling at every gruesome tale of destruction caused by my insatiable desire for financial gain. She was not here for a history lesson of my lifetime of destruction, however, and I knew she'd become restless. Curtailing the story, I ask what she wants to see most of all. Through a magical smile, she utters four simple words in a voice of syrupy sweetness "let the world panic". Struggling to discourage my daughter and becoming overpowered by the suit's hold over me, I reach for my phone. Opening up social media, a new surge of excitement thunders through me. Despite all of my efforts to cage this beast and be content with the spoils of my dominance, I could not resist. From the company's account, I write "Today marks a return of human prosperity. Climate changes has wreaked it's havoc, it's time for human ingenuity to run the rule once again. We have the knowledge and the equipment to flood the earth not in water, but oil. We will fix this mess with hard work and desire. We will power the future, and the future starts today". Within a few moments, my wife bellows from across the house to join her in the front room. Arriving, it's clear she is not happy. Something has agitated her, and it seems the news anchor on television. Spotting my discoloured, dusty suit, she tears the shirt from my torso. Telling my impressed daughter to return to her bedroom, she simply implores me to sit. The quiet exacerbates the freedom from the collard shirt; the impact my nonchalant updated social media slowly but surely buries me in guilt. I nearly caused the extinction of a planet before my wife managed to make me to see the errors or my greed. And now our offspring, her delightful smile eroding my new self, and the suit constricting the sense from the brain, have ignited a new war. A battle my daughter is sitting on the stairs watching begin anew.
	[WP] You are a retired super villain. You have put your past behind and started a family. Your daughter loves nothing more than a good vs evil showdown. But no one bothers being a super villain anymore. So on her 6th birthday you decide to put on the cape of doom for her sake one last time.	If didnt end well. He won. He destroyed everything. I'm lying here practically dying. 10 years ago I put on the Cape and got my gear together and had my last fight with Titan. But I think he go real tired of this. He didnt hold back. Shown no mercy and no remorse. After 30 minutes I was sent to the hospital. She knows. After 10 long years she knows everything. Shes even invented a weather control device. I saw the news. Titan challenged by a 16 year old called Maelstrom. She terrified him she screamed "this is vengeance for dad" and caused the biggest thunderstorm this damn city has ever seen. First I was scared. Scared that he would kill her. But now I'm proud. She wears my mantle with pride and she made t greater. Now she is unstoppable. As she walks in for her last visit with me before they take me off life support I hand her a key. "This is the key to the dreadvault. End him, his family and everyone else who stands in you're way. My greatest creation, my biggest pride ever is in there." Little will she know that the vault has 56 photos of her throughout her life. That and a REALLY big gun	I could never truly believe I had done it. I had gotten out of the game. It was August 6th, 2009. My career was at its peak. When I donned the cape of doom, people ran in fear. You know, the few individuals who know my secret always ask me the same three questions. 1. Why did you become the greatest supervillain of all time? Honestly, I was bored out of my mind. Also, I knew I could. Not to mention those heroes were just so arrogant. They needed someone like me to come along and really test them. Someone that would push them to truly ascend to that moral high ground they all spouted on and on about. Except for my old nemesis, that guy was just a dick. But for the record, my moves were calculated, I only ever actually hurt one guy -which was an accident and I paid his medical expenses- otherwise, I only ever destroyed or stole things that were adequately insured. 2. Why did you pick a name as basic and silly as “Doom Lord”? I was an “evil” genius not a writer. I don’t know. It sounded a lot better in my head… 3. Well, why did you stop? It was August 6th, 2009. I went to get a coffee. Can you believe it? Something so small and so insignificant as getting a cup of joe! And I met her, I met my Rebecca. It’s 10 years later, to be day, that I met Rebecca. As fate would have it, if just so happens to also be our daughter’s, Jessie’s, 6th birthday. The night before her birthday, Jessie stayed up late watching old superhero movies. This one actually had a character loosely based off me but they got the whole likeness wrong! My nose is not that big! Jessie would always ask what the heroes of today were up to, and honestly, they weren’t doing anything that special. Now a days super heroes were just really good police officers and firefighters. Their work is important and I respect them, the thing is there’s no more villains. That’s my fault. I was so good at being a super villain that all the heroes had to step up there game. The other villains couldn’t keep up with them anymore. “You know how much she loves the old movies, heroes fighting villains,” my wife said to me after Jessie finally went to bed. “The proverbial battle of good versus evil-“ “I maintain that I was never truly evil!” “I know honey but Jessie doesn’t know anything about that chapter of your life yet. Could you just put on the old cape of doom and do a little show for her party tomorrow?” I sat there for a moment. I had put all that behind me. Digging out my old costume would feel like backpedaling. But, I would do anything for them. “All your birthday cake,” I said leaping up onto the table. “Belongs to Doom Lord!” Halfway through Jessie’s party, Rebecca taps me on the shoulder. “Hey, it’s time for your big act.” “Are you sure we can’t just get a last minute clown? I have one on speed dial!” “Shush. You’re gonna be great.” She told me whine giving me an encouraging yet discrete pat on the buttocks. I had asked my friend Gary to dress up as the hero for the big showdown. “Should I dress up as your former archenemies?” “Ugh, no, I don’t even want to think about that guy.” Gary didn’t have a cape so we dressed him up in what we could find. Yellow rubber gloves, a pair of pink goggles, some fake muscles we happened to have, and for the cape, a baby blue towel. He was going to “clean up evil.” I stepped proudly, confidently, dastardly even, out of the sliding door that led into our backyard. The first child to notice me, Jimmy from down the block, screamed and then fall over. Nice. All the parents looked rather impressed too with my appearance. I’m sure their thoughts were between “wow that looks really authentic, I wonder what it cost him?” and “I had no idea he was that into cosplay.” “I hear you are having a birthday party!” I cried out in the most sinister, yet comical, voice I could muster. I pointed a finger of my leather glove at my daughter. “Little girl if you do not have a champion who can face me, all your cake will belong to me!” A silence hung in the air. Jessie looked at me absolutely enthralled. It was working but that was Gary’s queue. The waiting was beginning to feel very awkward. Unsure of what to do, I began to flex and pose as menacingly as I could. The kids laugh. Yeah, I don’t think I have it anymore. Time for the big guns. I put my hand together and soaked up my Doom Blasters. Yes, I know, super creative name. A ball of red energy appeared in my hands. I just had to adjust the parameters a little and voila. I fired the crackling sphere into the air and it exploded into a brilliant fireworks display. A drone flew over head. I recognized it immediately. The drone looked just like one that belonged to my former nemesis. Dammit Gary. I thought we agreed, no Gadget Guy! It was a cool replica though, I wondered where he got it. “Haha!” I cackled while gesturing towards the drone. “After all these years you have finally found me Gadget Guy!” Man, maybe I should I be an actor. The drone began to beep. Second laters, it fired a missile at me. Wait. What? My old instincts took control. I used my energy gauntlets to turn the missile away with lightning speed. The missile soared into the air and detonated. To the gathered crowd, it looked like another firework. Looking at the blast, I knew it was an attempt on my life. But, more importantly, I still had it. I leaped into the air and the drone gave chase. As we dashed through the sky, the drone began firing at me with machine gun. The bullets were easy enough to avoid, they were being aimed by Gadget Guy’s crappy code after all. I only made it a few houses at when I saw a large swarm of drones in front of me. I was forced to land in the middle of the cul de sac. The drones surrounded me and began whirling up their guns. I cocooned myself in a bubble of energy as they opened fire. People from the neighborhood and the party began coming out to observe the spectacle. The drones relented, whether they were reloading or Gadget Guy knew they weren’t getting through my barrier I didn’t know. I dropped my shield for a moment, giving my gear a chance to cool off. The drones changed formation. They created a screen in front of me and a live image of Gadget Guy sitting behind his desk appeared. “I see you never directed the Steve Jobs wanna be look Gadget Guy!” “And I see yours still breathing Doom Lord. That’ll change soon.” See, it’s not just me, he really is a dick.
	[WP] You are a retired super villain. You have put your past behind and started a family. Your daughter loves nothing more than a good vs evil showdown. But no one bothers being a super villain anymore. So on her 6th birthday you decide to put on the cape of doom for her sake one last time.	Ofelia puts on the tape again, and I know it well. It’s audio blasts out of the living room and through the house. The news network’s chime is like a beacon for my memories to come roaring back. “We’re back, as Super Boom continues his assault on super-villain The Terror. Their loud punches echo through the streets this afternoon, as people cheer on our hero to win again!” I stopped cracking eggs into the bowl, and I listen. I listen every time she puts on that tape. The newscaster is so thrilled with me getting my ass kicked. Everyone chanting for Super Boom is as well. I hate that feeling. It’s why I quit being The Terror in the first place. Well, mostly. I wash my hands of yolk and shell, and head into the living room, and stare at the back of my daughter’s head as she eats it up. Superheroes. Everyone thinks they’re so great, and the worst part is, they are. They’re the most obvious cause for me quitting, but for a different reason than you might expect. It wasn’t the broken noses or the fractured ribs that slowed me down. It wasn’t the countless suits I had to repair that made me retire. It was the idea that someone had to stop me. I needed money so badly. I had a daughter on the way, and I couldn’t keep a job. Criminal records always resurfaced, no matter how hard I tried to cover them up, and tattoos and a mean old mug didn’t help very much either. And honestly, all that work felt a little demeaning. I have the ability to fly. To break cars in half with my bare hands. I thought I was better than people, and that was my mistake. I filled the TV screen now. Some news reporter managed to get a close-up of me in the sky. Ofelia didn’t know, and I had always planned to never tell her. She talked out to me, “I kind of miss super-villains, ya know?” “What do you mean you miss super-villains? You weren’t even alive when they were around! It’s good they’re gone! No one is getting hurt.” “But The Terror never REALLY hurt anyone. He always just dukes it out with Super Boom and all the others. He never tried to kill them, or other people.” “Others did.” “Well, OK, they can stay gone!” She got caught up in superheroes like everyone else. Kids at school converted her, and she found my old recordings. She started playing the tapes. Her favorite hero was Super Boom. She followed all of his previous work, and played it over and over. She didn’t realize she was making me relive my past every single day. I asked her to not watch them so much, but for today, I caved. It was her 6th birthday, after all. She didn’t realize how desensitized she was to everything. Those were real people. Real fights. It wasn’t just her. America started to forget. Villains disappeared, either at the hands of heroes or the hands of time. It’s all a game now. Back then it was life. “I’ll be right back, baby. Daddy’s gotta go to the garage real quick.” “OK! Is the TV too loud?” “No, no, you’re perfect.” I do as I said I would. I walk past my car and over to a small section of the wall, hiding in the corner of the room. I press some hidden panels in a particular order, and a larger one opens. I pull out the rags, and shut the panel door. Using the cover of the car, I slip them on. All black, and very tight fitting. The cape hangs and drags against the floor, picking up sawdust. I keep the helmet to my side. I don’t need to wear it. I walk back into the living room, and wait for Ofelia to notice. She’s glued to the action. I quietly get her attention, “Hey, baby, can, can we talk?” “What? Are we gonna have cake soon?” I try to put my super-strength into my balls, “We need to talk”. She turns around, and the shock on her face almost makes me want to laugh. But it quickly turns sad. The shock turns to horror. She fumbles with the remote, and pauses the tape. She stares at me for what feels like solid minutes. I hear a fly hovering over my bowl of eggs in the kitchen. Then she screams. Loud. I scream back, “Jesus Christ, baby! Calm down!” She stops, and immediately asks, “That’s a costume?” “Yes.” “A fake one?” “I mean, how would you define a fake costume?” “Are you really The Terror? Did you really steal and lie and fight good people?” I yell at her, “Did you really wish I would come back?” She gets sad again. I feel sad, too. I never yell at my Ofelia. I try not to get emotional, or sentimental. I focus on what I want to say: “I know you love superheroes. You love the fights, and the good triumphing over evil. I like that too. But, Daddy was in a bad place. He needed money so he could be normal. So he didn’t have to be bad anymore. Do you understand? We don’t need people to be like Daddy was then. I’m glad you like the good guys, but looking back, Daddy wishes he had been one. “ I realized this lesson was too soon, and maybe not even for Ofelia. My little girl was just afraid and sad on her special day. Instead of letting her enjoy something that didn’t even matter anymore, I made it about me. I needed to make her cake. We stared awkwardly at each other, until I went back into the kitchen. I didn’t even take off the old garbs. I just needed to make my baby girl a cake.	It's been years since I'd defeated superman. Kryptonite was not easy to come by, but having had it, it was relatively simple. Batman did it to superman once, and I got the idea. By then, he was the last real threat to me. 2 years later, I found a wife. We lived an ideal life from all my criminal money. She was shocked when she found out, but eventually came to. 6 years later, my little girl. The beloved of my life, except all the years of keeping a highly radioactive element on me messed with my genes. She developed GBM at 5. This year... well... I've tried Dr Jace, and Dr Amar. And even Prof Pyg, but nothing. Not even those who stood against Bats once could do a thing. She loves her fantasies. Daddy, read it to me please, she'd say. Daddy, tell me about the time you and Green Arrow fought. The problem was, she was a kind soul inside. The good side always had to win. This year, she was interested in how I used to fight. This year, I took my cape from my memory box This year, I hired a superhero to take me down.
	[WP] You are a retired super villain. You have put your past behind and started a family. Your daughter loves nothing more than a good vs evil showdown. But no one bothers being a super villain anymore. So on her 6th birthday you decide to put on the cape of doom for her sake one last time.	"Daddy! Please!" Ellie yelled in desperation. "Could we watch a villain movie? Those really awesome ones you used to watch?" She looked up at me with those puppy eyes I'd seen so many times; they were difficult to resist. "Ellie, I don't think we can. A 6-year-old shouldn't be watching those." I said, putting on a fake smile to seem more endearing. Her face was sad and disappointed, and she left with only a slight sob. I felt bad. I used to be a supervillain and I could do this for her. But I had left that life behind. To create a family. It happened five years ago after something horrible happened. On that day, that horrible day, I promised myself something. That I would never return. But at that moment when Ellie left, crying, I felt a pull. A pull towards the cape. I walked up the attic stairs, towards the Cape of Doom, feeling horrible when I thought about what could happen. Most superheroes had also retired; there wasn't much to do after I left, though a few stayed. Notably the superhero Covn. He was the greatest in the people's eyes, but I knew better. He had betrayed me. His powers were probably the greatest there ever were. He used to be a villain, and we worked together. We defeated those heroes again and again till they eventually gave up. We didn't kill them, of course, I wasn't that cold. But he betrayed me, yes, and turned to a superhero. I picked up the Cape of Doom which ceased my reminiscing of the past. The cape was really light and it didn't seem like it could hold any power. But that vague cross on the back still lit up - a sign that the powers were intact. My hands shook as I put the cape on my back. I looked at the mirror and saw a new man. He wasn't the blonde-haired and blue-eyed handsome man from before; he was disgusting. This man who now stood in the mirror instead of me had untidy, brown hair, a lanky form and grey eyes that had a hint of red to them. This was the monster I knew, the one that had haunted these five peaceful years where I had lived with my family. Hurried footsteps creaked the old stairs leading up to the attic. I turned around and saw her, my daughter. She screamed and stood frozen in place, her eyes showing fear that I had never seen before. "Hey, calm down, Ellie," I said, my croaky voice surprising even me, "I'm dad, okay?" She looked slightly relieved but still untrustful and struggled to get words out of her mouth, "Uhm, ah, D-Dad? You're a villain?" she asked. "Yes, Ellie. I knew how much you loved those evil vs good showdowns that you always wanted to watch. You shouldn't have found me..." She looked at me, her mouth open. "Cool!" she yelled, which caught me off guard. What? She's happy? I wondered as I rushed down the attic stairs. As we reached the bottom, I turned to Ellie. "Ellie. You have to promise me that you won't come. Stay inside and watch it on the TV, alright? Promise me that." I could still see her slight discomfort with my appearance change, and how she still trusted me? I don't know. Kids were strange, was the conclusion I came to. Ellie nodded slightly and the excitement that she had bottled up slightly let loose. I ran out of the door but turned at the last second, smiling to Ellie. "Happy Birthday." I closed the door and my footsteps shook the rainwater on the ground. I would get to the city square - thankfully it wasn't too far away - and then I would use my abilities to call someone out. These evil vs good battles usually didn't cause too much damage. I don't really know why all ten of us supervillains and superheroes did it. Some had come to the conclusion that our capes were what pulled us to action, others theorized that we were all just lunatics. I didn't really care. It found it fun and so did most people, and as long as it didn't cause any harm, it was alright. I jumped up to a rooftop using a small superstrength reserve; some of my powers had to be stored for later use, such as superstrength. The way I did this was quite strange, however. I would put on my cape and if I just willed it, I could make myself extremely weak to be able to get some superstrength into the reserve. When I was done, I would stop the process. I smirked slightly as I neared the path I always used to take. The one that lead to the city square. Around me, sounds of kids playing, cars driving and a few birds chirping sounded. It was a normal day. My feet ached slightly as I jumped down from the roof, now in the middle of the city square. There were few people there and those who were there quickly left; they must have spotted me. I used all I could of my sound reserve; it caused my voice to sound a hundred times louder while still being safe to ears, somehow. It took a while to do as it put a large strain on my body. But I eventually did it. "SUPERHEROES! COME TO THE CITY SQUARE! LET'S PUT ON A SHOW!" I put hands to my ears. It felt like I would explode and I just wanted to lay down and head to sleep. God, what have I done? I thought. I stood proudly in the middle of the city square, awaiting my challenger. I tried to guess who it was. Only two of the five superheroes who used to operate were left: Covn and Fighterman. Fighterman was a bit of a joke. He was incredibly stupid and seen as the weakest and most useless of the superheroes. I hoped it wouldn't be him. Covn, however? God, I hated that man. I remember his betrayal and how he had broken the usual rules we would follow. I remember fighting Holographer, one of the heroes who operated years earlier. It was going well until Covn did the unthinkable. He picked up a woman - I remember her screams of terror - and used her as a shield. Everything happened so quickly, but in the next second, I saw her lying on the ground, a laser wound like the one Holographer used in the middle of her chest. She had been killed by Holographer, but all us heroes blamed it on Covn. The people didn't, and welcomed Covn's change to a superhero. And I heard those tramping footsteps of a giant, I knew Covn was here. Over those tiny buildings I could see him in the giant form he began using after becoming a hero. He looked down at me. It was the first time I'd seen his new form face-to-face. His face was quite handsome, actually, and had a muscular form. He would have looked quite normal if it weren't for the giant part. He towered over me at probably 12 feet. Continuation in the comments	It's been years since I'd defeated superman. Kryptonite was not easy to come by, but having had it, it was relatively simple. Batman did it to superman once, and I got the idea. By then, he was the last real threat to me. 2 years later, I found a wife. We lived an ideal life from all my criminal money. She was shocked when she found out, but eventually came to. 6 years later, my little girl. The beloved of my life, except all the years of keeping a highly radioactive element on me messed with my genes. She developed GBM at 5. This year... well... I've tried Dr Jace, and Dr Amar. And even Prof Pyg, but nothing. Not even those who stood against Bats once could do a thing. She loves her fantasies. Daddy, read it to me please, she'd say. Daddy, tell me about the time you and Green Arrow fought. The problem was, she was a kind soul inside. The good side always had to win. This year, she was interested in how I used to fight. This year, I took my cape from my memory box This year, I hired a superhero to take me down.
	[WP] A phenomena begins to occur where newborn babies are found amidst the aftermath of natural disasters. Tsunamis, avalanches, wild fires, destructive lightning storms, etc. These 'Storm-Born' humans grow up with powers based on the disasters that birthed them.	I was birthed by fire, with ash and smoke for brothers. My home is the inferno, my bed is burning coals. I walk back from the woods, carrying back 50 pounds of wood to be turned into charcoal. My body strains under the weight, but I keep moving forward, heading to the ovens. The boss sees me going down the trail that serves this wood, and greets me. "Damn, Red, that is a ton of wood! You sure you can still do your thing after carrying that?" I nod in return, unable to talk. How hard can it be to take a nap? I place the wood inside the large oven, along with what was collected by the other kids. Then I hop in, and lay down, getting confortable inside the blackened dome. The other kids fill the oven to the brim, and then close the door. I faintly hear the boss giving me the go-ahead, and I start drifting off to sleep. I dream about fire. Fire around me, above me, below me. Inside me. Embers drift between the trees like butterflies. The dry leaves that serve as my pillow curl up and blacken as the fire reaches them. I feel calm. This is where I belong. The boss bangs on the oven with a stick, waking me. "C'mon Red, get out! You're gonna burn the coal again!" And the dream ends, stamped out by reality. I stand inside the oven, now less than a third full with charcoal, and pull myself up the chimney. The boss yells at me that I shouldn't climb up the chimney, that I could break the oven, but I don't mind, and I'm sure he doesn't either. I walk out, completely covered in soot, and start putting the coal into rough paper bags. The boss whistles a happy melody. He is happy to have me here, and I know he secretly thinks I'm a fool, and that he's very smart for taking advantage of "that thing I can do". He doesn't know that I've been the one using him, using his ovens, to rest for most of the day. For I cannot reach sleep if I do not go through the fire and flames.	Years ago, a private jet got caught in a hurricane. It couldn't sustain flight and spiralled down to the ground. From the remains of that tragedy, I was born: a cursed child around which no one can fly. Insects, birds and all beings and objects that can reach the heavens are pulled to the ground just by my mere presence. This also goes for people: friends, family, partners, no matter where they're in life, as soon as they come near me, they will inevitably see their lives spiralling out of control until they reach rock bottom. And all because of me. I could just get out of the way, avoid all unnecessary contact with everyone. That way, I can stop this cycle of hoping things will be different just to be met with more pain and guilt. Yet, I still keep going back. How selfish can I be? How truly like a demon am I, praying on happiness that doesn't belong to me? I'm as foolish as a pilot that flies a plane into a hurricane, with no regards to how many lives It's going to cost. But I just don't want to be alone. **** Sorry if this is a little too depressing, I just wanted to write something and this came to mind.
	[WP] A phenomena begins to occur where newborn babies are found amidst the aftermath of natural disasters. Tsunamis, avalanches, wild fires, destructive lightning storms, etc. These 'Storm-Born' humans grow up with powers based on the disasters that birthed them.	"My name is Adam Vander Welt. I was conceived and discovered eighty years ago after The Great American Drift. I am Earth-Rise, I am Storm-Born. The phenomenon started around fourteen years before my birth, there was precedent for greatness for Storm-Born well before my brother and I arrived. I'm sure the people who have picked this book off the shelves already know much of the history of the Storm-Born, who know about 'The world's worst Storm-Born,' the first-hand experiences and stories within this book are for them, and anyone else who may have stumbled across these pages. The Great American Drift is to this day, the greatest loss of human life known to man behind the bubonic plague. A tectonic shift that ripped apart not only the United States but a large portion of Central and South America as well. As it has been recorded a loss of nearly twenty-one million human lives. There were dozens Storm-Born conceived that day all over the world as a result of smaller quakes and tsunamis, but only two of us born to the aftermath of the Drift. . . . My brother an I often disagreed, but I know that we shared a bond of understanding and admiration for one another that ran deeper than our petty arguing. We were maternal twins, born of the same mother earth, we shared a same fate, but performed at different levels. Aidan Vanderwelt was heralded as hero to mankind, 'Rage-Queller,' the man who could stop the plates. For as long as he lived there was never again a catastrophic, life erasing earthquake. There are statues erected of him all over the world. I miss him every day. I am not the hero my brother was. As long as he and I have stood shoulder to shoulder, he was in the lime light, and I was the eternal disappointment. I am Earth-Rise, I float, I 'drift the magnetic fields of the planet to float above the ground,' according to a none too flattering New York Times article written in my mid-twenties. When he would be asked 'what it was like to be the most powerful Storm-Born on the planet,' he would respond 'he didn't know," and folks would be pleased at how humble he was. It was hard life living in my brothers long shadow, but despite all the bad press, he was always there for me, because he was the only one who knew. . . . When a major earthquake occurs, there are two changes people don't consider, because the changes are not an immediate problem, or they are too big to consider. When fault lines press against one another an cause a quake, the very shape of our planet changes, and I don't just mean new mountains or islands, I mean our beautiful sphere get a little less round in some places. After the Great American Drift, the earth is more egg shaped than it once was, but for the most part this change hasn't affected humanities survival so people pay it no mind. The other thing that happens when a major quake happens, is that our planet changes it's place in the solar system. Some quakes have moved our world's orbit by as much as a few centimeters, the Great American Drift shifted our world by as much as fifty-four centimeters. I know these fact because I have to. My brother prevented the shaking, was a hero to the people, and received all the glory of saving the people from the immediate danger of earthquakes. I did the rest of the work behind the scenes. Before this publication there were only twelve people in the world who knew my power. Myself, my brother, and ten esteemed scientists who monitor the movements of tectonic plates, or the distance of the earth's orbit, or the shape or our planet. My power is not floating around the magnet fields of the planet. My power is shifting the planet's movements to my will. My brother would save Malaysia from a Six point Seven earthquake, receive their love and adoration, then I would step in, and push the planet to where the quake would have moved it. I spun it to how fast or slow the quake would have spun it. I slide the plates in ways to relieve the some pressure. I did it all with the confidence of those intelligent men and women doing all the measuring. The day I outlived them all, is the day I retired from the hero business. . . . I don't know what will happen to our beautiful planet when I'm gone. It already seems like a bleaker place without Aidan in it. I hope this book inspires somebody someday. A little boy or girl born out of tragedy to rise up to be a hero. A survivor who dedicates their life to learn about prevention or monitor the holistic effects of natural disasters. I hope that when I go the Times will write a more flattering piece on my life, something half as good as my brother's obituary. Mostly I hope the world never again has to face the massive loss of human life necessary to conceive children like my brother and I. -Adam Vander Welt Earth-Rise."	"So when can I go home?" Jose asked. The lady in front of him simply sent him a smile before turning to her tablet. Jose turned a disgruntled gaze to the door behind him, looking like the greatest temptation in the world. She typed in something, tutted, and typed some more. She had her hair down in loose waves, a pair of thick glasses on hair eyes. She wore a suit that was a dark grey with accents of lighter grey. Her nails weren't polished, and she wore little make up. And the reason Jose even bothered with these details was because he had been stuck in this god forsaken room for 3 FUCKING HOURS. "Can I please go home now? I have a pair of twins to look after." Jose sighed. "Look, I didn't do it ok? I was just going to the store to buy some baby formula? I had nothing to do with the car crash okay?" The woman said nothing and kept on typing. Jose wanted to tear his hair out in frustration. But of course, he couldn't do that. If his Mexican looking ass showed any aggression, well he might just make things worse. So he took in deep breaths, and tried not to think of the injustice of racism, faulty justice systems, and his accursed luck. But finally, the woman turned away from the tablet, and gave him a smile. It was a teeth, pearly whites that looked deceptively calm. Like how those asshole social workers usually looked. "Sorry for that Mr. De Guzman, we ran into some problems. But rest assured, we will be done soon and you can go on home." Jose stifled his relieved sigh, trying to keep his guard up no matter how desperate he was to go home. He wasn't stupid, this could still turn side ways. The door opened, and a man in another gray suit entered. He was carrying his own tablet, and Jose finally let out a sigh, of disappointment though. Because of course it wasn't over. "Thank you for your patience," he said. Jose barely kept the scoff at bah, not wanting to offend and get himself in deeper. The man turned his tablet own, fiddled a bit, before looking at Jose with the same smile the woman had. He could feel his hackles rise. "So, Jose De Guzman." His voice was a smooth and calm baritone that reminded him of a therapist. Oh no, definitely not good. "We just wanted to ask some questions." "Of course you do," he finally let out, patience worn thin. So he want getting out of this anytime soon? Fantastic. "Don't worry, they had nothing to do with the incident from hours earlier," said the woman. The man nodded and showed Jose his tablet. On the screen was a picture of Jose. On the side was list of details. Jose was left confused. "Okay? Why am I here then?" He did not like the vibe he was getting. The woman saw him tense, because she smiled wider and spoke with a soothing voice. "Relax kid, we're not gonna bite." Jose did not believe them for a second. "We just wanted to know about some details about you." "I have rights you know," Jose asked, trying to keep the tremors of nervousness down. "You can't keep me detained this long." "But Mr. De Guzman, we aren't detaining you," the man said. "We're here to request your help." Okay what? "What?" Jose asked. "You came at me with guns ready just to ask for my help?" "Of course," they both replied, like it was normal to kidnap people when they buy their groceries at 1 am. Jose wanted to punch something so bad right now. "And you couldn't have come to my office, or maybe during the day, because?" "Because we have no time." All pretense of cheer was gone, and what was left was a deathly seriousness. He felt himself tense further, his emotions turning into a storm. And his inner light was starting to pulse in accordance to his fear. He desperately tried to keep a grip as he spoke as calmly as possible. "I have no interest to what this is about. And I'm not the guy you need" He slowly but calmly rose from his seat, palms up, as he slowly walked backwards to the door. Except another guy in a suit walked out, effectively blocking his escape. He let out a curse and tried to be nonchalant. "So if you could just please let me go so I can go back to my mids before my husband gets home, that would be really ni-" "We can't let you leave Apollo." Jose froze, body unmoving as the old words resonated through his brain. He stood silently, his inner light getting hotter and hotter, ready to be let out. "No one calls me that anymore." His voice sounded dull and old, ancient and tired. This was not his voice. Who was speaking? "That's because the world thought they didn't need you anymore." The woman spoke with no humor nor ill intent. Yet it still stung him deeply as she said it. Yet he fought that old buzz and tried to pull himself from the hole, from the tumbling dark oblivion of his buried secrets "That's the name of the old me, the name of an agent. Of a killer. Not me." It was still the voice that was his but also not. A voice from a distant past that he had almost forgotten. "We apologize, truly we do," the man had a soft voice filled with regret. He was truly sorry for this. Jose couldn't say he felt the same. "If we had any other choice," he continued, "then we wouldn't have gotten you. But the agency has fallen on hard times and we need every agent back on the field." "I was free from my obligation. Meaning you had no right to bring me back." "Not unless the Storm-born have returned." Jose tensed at the word, heart beating faster. He turned slowly to the two, both wearing matching frowns. "Did you say the Storm-born?" They nodded. Jose just stared. His inner light flared brighter and brighter, threatening to escape his tenuous control. Deep breaths deep breaths. "How many?" he finally asked when he felt less likely to snap. "Six have already been sighted." "Six?!" So many! That had never happened before! But the woman nodded, almost regretfully, and turned her tablet to him. He grabbed it and read the words on the screen. 6 kids. Each from different parts of the world. A baby from the Philippines, the survivor of a volcanic eruption that buried a city. One from Saudi Arabia after a sandstorm buried an entire village, the only one that was found. A baby from Kashmir found in the remnants of a blizzard. A baby rescued from a forest fire in California. One who was found in the floating remains of a cargo ship after a hurricane in the North Atlantic. And a baby found in on a roof top after a tornado. Each survived a natural disaster. All were found as vulnerable newborns, small and weak, left alone to die. "Or to thrive, as nature wanted them," he whispered under his breath, as he read more about them. The familiar story, lost, abandoned, fighters, survivors. Something he knew truly. He gave the tablet back to the woman, letting out a resigned sigh. He knew he could still walk away. They knew that too but gave him his space. He didn't need it though. He knew what he had to do. "Where do I suit up?" he said, Jose De Guzman melting away as Agent Apollo returned. The two smiled, relief in their eyes but well hidden from their expressions. "Good to have you back Agent." Jose said nothing, smiling grimly as his inner light grew treacherously brighter, light and heat and gamma radiation threatening to spill from his palms.
	[WP] A phenomena begins to occur where newborn babies are found amidst the aftermath of natural disasters. Tsunamis, avalanches, wild fires, destructive lightning storms, etc. These 'Storm-Born' humans grow up with powers based on the disasters that birthed them.	'Whilst I wasn't the first Storm-born, no I am far from the first, I sure am the oldest one still alive. 200 years I have walked this torn world, leaving a blazing trail wherever I go. The first Storm-born were treated as heroes, sometimes even revered as gifts from the gods. They helped humanity with a lot of problems, for they contained the powers of natural disasters. But of course these beings were a two sided sword, whereas there were those that did good there were also those that used it to sow destruction. I mean they were born from natural disasters, so why don't we continue the disasters devastation. Because of the growing danger these Storm-born became humans began to despise them, or rather us. Yet the humans didn't take drastic measures, no they slowly killed only the "evil" Storm-born. They feared the Storm-born would band together and destroy humanity. So a balance came to be, a really delicate balance. But there was one disaster that became the tipping point, the final push to let humanity rage against the Storm-born. The disaster decimated a fourth of the world, the Storm-born had nothing to do with it. Everyone knew that, the humans just blamed it on the Storm-born saying it created by them, an excuse to wage a war. I was born from that disaster, 200 years ago. Everyone is scared of me, afraid I will come and destroy their homes. And I understand them, everywhere I go destruction ensues. Yet the crucial point is that it's their own fault, if they don't bother me, I don't bother them. With my hate for the world I would sometimes let myself drown in the exhilarating feeling that causing destruction brought to me. But those times are long past me. I can't control my power, it's a lose cannon. I don't even exactly know what my power is, I just decimate everything around me. That's it. Nothing more nothing less, the strength is based upon my velocity but the base strength is somewhere around the destruction of a whole city weaker than that isn't possible. That's because my power isn't based upon a tsunami or volcano, neither is it from a tornado no that's far from it. My power comes from the M-...' 'Pa you have told this story a thousand times. I am sure the children are bored from it.' My daughter Sasha said whilst smiling. My grandkids look annoyed at her and the oldest says: 'No it's really cool, to hear about grandpa's live, considering you never tell us about the old world.' 'And grandpa is a great story teller. I especially like hearing about his power!' The youngest chime in. The oldest looks up to the night sky in wonder. 'A Storm-born from outer space, a meteor 'Storm born'! How big are the chances for a meteor to strike the Earth and for a Storm-born to be born from that.' I smile whilst looking at the family I build. I must admit that I used to lament my existence a lot, for I brought only disaster. But it is when I am near my grandkids that I realise that I shouldn't despise the whole world for something that happened around me. This is my first time doing something like this so please be gentle. :)	"So when can I go home?" Jose asked. The lady in front of him simply sent him a smile before turning to her tablet. Jose turned a disgruntled gaze to the door behind him, looking like the greatest temptation in the world. She typed in something, tutted, and typed some more. She had her hair down in loose waves, a pair of thick glasses on hair eyes. She wore a suit that was a dark grey with accents of lighter grey. Her nails weren't polished, and she wore little make up. And the reason Jose even bothered with these details was because he had been stuck in this god forsaken room for 3 FUCKING HOURS. "Can I please go home now? I have a pair of twins to look after." Jose sighed. "Look, I didn't do it ok? I was just going to the store to buy some baby formula? I had nothing to do with the car crash okay?" The woman said nothing and kept on typing. Jose wanted to tear his hair out in frustration. But of course, he couldn't do that. If his Mexican looking ass showed any aggression, well he might just make things worse. So he took in deep breaths, and tried not to think of the injustice of racism, faulty justice systems, and his accursed luck. But finally, the woman turned away from the tablet, and gave him a smile. It was a teeth, pearly whites that looked deceptively calm. Like how those asshole social workers usually looked. "Sorry for that Mr. De Guzman, we ran into some problems. But rest assured, we will be done soon and you can go on home." Jose stifled his relieved sigh, trying to keep his guard up no matter how desperate he was to go home. He wasn't stupid, this could still turn side ways. The door opened, and a man in another gray suit entered. He was carrying his own tablet, and Jose finally let out a sigh, of disappointment though. Because of course it wasn't over. "Thank you for your patience," he said. Jose barely kept the scoff at bah, not wanting to offend and get himself in deeper. The man turned his tablet own, fiddled a bit, before looking at Jose with the same smile the woman had. He could feel his hackles rise. "So, Jose De Guzman." His voice was a smooth and calm baritone that reminded him of a therapist. Oh no, definitely not good. "We just wanted to ask some questions." "Of course you do," he finally let out, patience worn thin. So he want getting out of this anytime soon? Fantastic. "Don't worry, they had nothing to do with the incident from hours earlier," said the woman. The man nodded and showed Jose his tablet. On the screen was a picture of Jose. On the side was list of details. Jose was left confused. "Okay? Why am I here then?" He did not like the vibe he was getting. The woman saw him tense, because she smiled wider and spoke with a soothing voice. "Relax kid, we're not gonna bite." Jose did not believe them for a second. "We just wanted to know about some details about you." "I have rights you know," Jose asked, trying to keep the tremors of nervousness down. "You can't keep me detained this long." "But Mr. De Guzman, we aren't detaining you," the man said. "We're here to request your help." Okay what? "What?" Jose asked. "You came at me with guns ready just to ask for my help?" "Of course," they both replied, like it was normal to kidnap people when they buy their groceries at 1 am. Jose wanted to punch something so bad right now. "And you couldn't have come to my office, or maybe during the day, because?" "Because we have no time." All pretense of cheer was gone, and what was left was a deathly seriousness. He felt himself tense further, his emotions turning into a storm. And his inner light was starting to pulse in accordance to his fear. He desperately tried to keep a grip as he spoke as calmly as possible. "I have no interest to what this is about. And I'm not the guy you need" He slowly but calmly rose from his seat, palms up, as he slowly walked backwards to the door. Except another guy in a suit walked out, effectively blocking his escape. He let out a curse and tried to be nonchalant. "So if you could just please let me go so I can go back to my mids before my husband gets home, that would be really ni-" "We can't let you leave Apollo." Jose froze, body unmoving as the old words resonated through his brain. He stood silently, his inner light getting hotter and hotter, ready to be let out. "No one calls me that anymore." His voice sounded dull and old, ancient and tired. This was not his voice. Who was speaking? "That's because the world thought they didn't need you anymore." The woman spoke with no humor nor ill intent. Yet it still stung him deeply as she said it. Yet he fought that old buzz and tried to pull himself from the hole, from the tumbling dark oblivion of his buried secrets "That's the name of the old me, the name of an agent. Of a killer. Not me." It was still the voice that was his but also not. A voice from a distant past that he had almost forgotten. "We apologize, truly we do," the man had a soft voice filled with regret. He was truly sorry for this. Jose couldn't say he felt the same. "If we had any other choice," he continued, "then we wouldn't have gotten you. But the agency has fallen on hard times and we need every agent back on the field." "I was free from my obligation. Meaning you had no right to bring me back." "Not unless the Storm-born have returned." Jose tensed at the word, heart beating faster. He turned slowly to the two, both wearing matching frowns. "Did you say the Storm-born?" They nodded. Jose just stared. His inner light flared brighter and brighter, threatening to escape his tenuous control. Deep breaths deep breaths. "How many?" he finally asked when he felt less likely to snap. "Six have already been sighted." "Six?!" So many! That had never happened before! But the woman nodded, almost regretfully, and turned her tablet to him. He grabbed it and read the words on the screen. 6 kids. Each from different parts of the world. A baby from the Philippines, the survivor of a volcanic eruption that buried a city. One from Saudi Arabia after a sandstorm buried an entire village, the only one that was found. A baby from Kashmir found in the remnants of a blizzard. A baby rescued from a forest fire in California. One who was found in the floating remains of a cargo ship after a hurricane in the North Atlantic. And a baby found in on a roof top after a tornado. Each survived a natural disaster. All were found as vulnerable newborns, small and weak, left alone to die. "Or to thrive, as nature wanted them," he whispered under his breath, as he read more about them. The familiar story, lost, abandoned, fighters, survivors. Something he knew truly. He gave the tablet back to the woman, letting out a resigned sigh. He knew he could still walk away. They knew that too but gave him his space. He didn't need it though. He knew what he had to do. "Where do I suit up?" he said, Jose De Guzman melting away as Agent Apollo returned. The two smiled, relief in their eyes but well hidden from their expressions. "Good to have you back Agent." Jose said nothing, smiling grimly as his inner light grew treacherously brighter, light and heat and gamma radiation threatening to spill from his palms.
	[WP] A phenomena begins to occur where newborn babies are found amidst the aftermath of natural disasters. Tsunamis, avalanches, wild fires, destructive lightning storms, etc. These 'Storm-Born' humans grow up with powers based on the disasters that birthed them.	"The ultimate natural disaster is human intelligence gone wrong." - An unknown philosopher. Everybody these days knows about the Storm-Born. Most people want to be one, whether or not they are vocal about it. I get it. It'd be pretty cool to have superpowers like that. It IS pretty cool to have superpowers like that. Most people only think about the surface of it though: fire-born have fire powers, flood-born have water powers...but they never consider the bigger pictures of it all. Yes, I did mean pictures. There is more than one side to it all. First we have compound disasters. These can result in exceptionally powerful storm-born. Such are rare, but society is still in a debate over whether or not such powerful children should be allowed to live. After all...what if they become villainous? It could take an army just to handle one if that were to occur. Unfortunately, this environment of distrust and debate can cause that very result. Second, we have the negative effects. Storm-born usually do not have living family members, so they are almost always orphans for much of their childhood lives. This makes it more difficult for them to identify with much of society. Not only that, but not all storm-born have positive abilities. Fire-born may be unable to put themselves out. Plague-born may be highly contagious, requiring quarantine or even death to avoid wiping out humanity. Lastly, we have simple cause and effect. Sure, a superhuman was born from disaster, but many lives were likely lost in the disaster that birthed them. It is not uncommon for the bullies of the world to refer to storm-born as murderers and death-born because of this. This is an effect, but it brings us to the matters of the cause: there may actually be real murderers involved. As is almost always the case, the government got involved with storm-born as soon as they began popping up, for better or for worse. They didn't stop, though. More storm-born requires more storms, and storms definitely started occurring more frequently. Some religions believe the storm-born were gifts from god to combat these storms. Many others believe the government is creating natural disasters to produce more storm-born as a sick experiment on humanity. My name, or rather, the name I have chosen for myself, is Winter Holly. I am a storm-born, born of a compound disaster. Many years ago, a sudden avalanche tumbled into a lake. On the way, an alpine glacier broke loose, and when that struck the lake, it caused the water to overflow. The water led to a flood that displaced hundreds if not thousands of people in a nearby city, and those trapped within were either drowned or frozen to death. The end result was a small city half-frozen in a brand new lake, which has remained as a landmark ever since...and me. Nobody truly knows what caused the avalanche. It was reported to be a bunch of snowboarders and skiers that ignored warnings and chose to have their fun on a restricted slope. Despite the numerous people these days that would do that without question, I do not believe that to be the case. There are too many factors that would have to go wrong for such a large incident to occur without warning. I believe the event was orchestrated, an experiment by the government to create a private super soldier, with the city below seen as a necessary risk. Unfortunately, they failed to bring me into their clutches before I was found by a desperate, unsuspecting local...and now, with powers often described as a combination of Jack Frost and Poseidon, I intend to find those responsible...and give them a taste of disaster.	"So when can I go home?" Jose asked. The lady in front of him simply sent him a smile before turning to her tablet. Jose turned a disgruntled gaze to the door behind him, looking like the greatest temptation in the world. She typed in something, tutted, and typed some more. She had her hair down in loose waves, a pair of thick glasses on hair eyes. She wore a suit that was a dark grey with accents of lighter grey. Her nails weren't polished, and she wore little make up. And the reason Jose even bothered with these details was because he had been stuck in this god forsaken room for 3 FUCKING HOURS. "Can I please go home now? I have a pair of twins to look after." Jose sighed. "Look, I didn't do it ok? I was just going to the store to buy some baby formula? I had nothing to do with the car crash okay?" The woman said nothing and kept on typing. Jose wanted to tear his hair out in frustration. But of course, he couldn't do that. If his Mexican looking ass showed any aggression, well he might just make things worse. So he took in deep breaths, and tried not to think of the injustice of racism, faulty justice systems, and his accursed luck. But finally, the woman turned away from the tablet, and gave him a smile. It was a teeth, pearly whites that looked deceptively calm. Like how those asshole social workers usually looked. "Sorry for that Mr. De Guzman, we ran into some problems. But rest assured, we will be done soon and you can go on home." Jose stifled his relieved sigh, trying to keep his guard up no matter how desperate he was to go home. He wasn't stupid, this could still turn side ways. The door opened, and a man in another gray suit entered. He was carrying his own tablet, and Jose finally let out a sigh, of disappointment though. Because of course it wasn't over. "Thank you for your patience," he said. Jose barely kept the scoff at bah, not wanting to offend and get himself in deeper. The man turned his tablet own, fiddled a bit, before looking at Jose with the same smile the woman had. He could feel his hackles rise. "So, Jose De Guzman." His voice was a smooth and calm baritone that reminded him of a therapist. Oh no, definitely not good. "We just wanted to ask some questions." "Of course you do," he finally let out, patience worn thin. So he want getting out of this anytime soon? Fantastic. "Don't worry, they had nothing to do with the incident from hours earlier," said the woman. The man nodded and showed Jose his tablet. On the screen was a picture of Jose. On the side was list of details. Jose was left confused. "Okay? Why am I here then?" He did not like the vibe he was getting. The woman saw him tense, because she smiled wider and spoke with a soothing voice. "Relax kid, we're not gonna bite." Jose did not believe them for a second. "We just wanted to know about some details about you." "I have rights you know," Jose asked, trying to keep the tremors of nervousness down. "You can't keep me detained this long." "But Mr. De Guzman, we aren't detaining you," the man said. "We're here to request your help." Okay what? "What?" Jose asked. "You came at me with guns ready just to ask for my help?" "Of course," they both replied, like it was normal to kidnap people when they buy their groceries at 1 am. Jose wanted to punch something so bad right now. "And you couldn't have come to my office, or maybe during the day, because?" "Because we have no time." All pretense of cheer was gone, and what was left was a deathly seriousness. He felt himself tense further, his emotions turning into a storm. And his inner light was starting to pulse in accordance to his fear. He desperately tried to keep a grip as he spoke as calmly as possible. "I have no interest to what this is about. And I'm not the guy you need" He slowly but calmly rose from his seat, palms up, as he slowly walked backwards to the door. Except another guy in a suit walked out, effectively blocking his escape. He let out a curse and tried to be nonchalant. "So if you could just please let me go so I can go back to my mids before my husband gets home, that would be really ni-" "We can't let you leave Apollo." Jose froze, body unmoving as the old words resonated through his brain. He stood silently, his inner light getting hotter and hotter, ready to be let out. "No one calls me that anymore." His voice sounded dull and old, ancient and tired. This was not his voice. Who was speaking? "That's because the world thought they didn't need you anymore." The woman spoke with no humor nor ill intent. Yet it still stung him deeply as she said it. Yet he fought that old buzz and tried to pull himself from the hole, from the tumbling dark oblivion of his buried secrets "That's the name of the old me, the name of an agent. Of a killer. Not me." It was still the voice that was his but also not. A voice from a distant past that he had almost forgotten. "We apologize, truly we do," the man had a soft voice filled with regret. He was truly sorry for this. Jose couldn't say he felt the same. "If we had any other choice," he continued, "then we wouldn't have gotten you. But the agency has fallen on hard times and we need every agent back on the field." "I was free from my obligation. Meaning you had no right to bring me back." "Not unless the Storm-born have returned." Jose tensed at the word, heart beating faster. He turned slowly to the two, both wearing matching frowns. "Did you say the Storm-born?" They nodded. Jose just stared. His inner light flared brighter and brighter, threatening to escape his tenuous control. Deep breaths deep breaths. "How many?" he finally asked when he felt less likely to snap. "Six have already been sighted." "Six?!" So many! That had never happened before! But the woman nodded, almost regretfully, and turned her tablet to him. He grabbed it and read the words on the screen. 6 kids. Each from different parts of the world. A baby from the Philippines, the survivor of a volcanic eruption that buried a city. One from Saudi Arabia after a sandstorm buried an entire village, the only one that was found. A baby from Kashmir found in the remnants of a blizzard. A baby rescued from a forest fire in California. One who was found in the floating remains of a cargo ship after a hurricane in the North Atlantic. And a baby found in on a roof top after a tornado. Each survived a natural disaster. All were found as vulnerable newborns, small and weak, left alone to die. "Or to thrive, as nature wanted them," he whispered under his breath, as he read more about them. The familiar story, lost, abandoned, fighters, survivors. Something he knew truly. He gave the tablet back to the woman, letting out a resigned sigh. He knew he could still walk away. They knew that too but gave him his space. He didn't need it though. He knew what he had to do. "Where do I suit up?" he said, Jose De Guzman melting away as Agent Apollo returned. The two smiled, relief in their eyes but well hidden from their expressions. "Good to have you back Agent." Jose said nothing, smiling grimly as his inner light grew treacherously brighter, light and heat and gamma radiation threatening to spill from his palms.
	[WP] A phenomena begins to occur where newborn babies are found amidst the aftermath of natural disasters. Tsunamis, avalanches, wild fires, destructive lightning storms, etc. These 'Storm-Born' humans grow up with powers based on the disasters that birthed them.	[Poem] The laugh of a newborn brings instant joy To all nearby the new girl or new boy But for some who were born from the ashes and soot From the fire and floods, the muck and mook These stormborns laughs hold a different power And to many who are around find it grim or sour For their laughs bring disaster, the humor is cold To raise such a danger you have to be bold To care for and live with one's walking a very fine line Because the laughs are not the only land mine The tears, the anger and even the smiles Can send doom and destruction to all within miles So a warning to all who find a baby at your door Keep it as calm as can be or the chaos be more	"So when can I go home?" Jose asked. The lady in front of him simply sent him a smile before turning to her tablet. Jose turned a disgruntled gaze to the door behind him, looking like the greatest temptation in the world. She typed in something, tutted, and typed some more. She had her hair down in loose waves, a pair of thick glasses on hair eyes. She wore a suit that was a dark grey with accents of lighter grey. Her nails weren't polished, and she wore little make up. And the reason Jose even bothered with these details was because he had been stuck in this god forsaken room for 3 FUCKING HOURS. "Can I please go home now? I have a pair of twins to look after." Jose sighed. "Look, I didn't do it ok? I was just going to the store to buy some baby formula? I had nothing to do with the car crash okay?" The woman said nothing and kept on typing. Jose wanted to tear his hair out in frustration. But of course, he couldn't do that. If his Mexican looking ass showed any aggression, well he might just make things worse. So he took in deep breaths, and tried not to think of the injustice of racism, faulty justice systems, and his accursed luck. But finally, the woman turned away from the tablet, and gave him a smile. It was a teeth, pearly whites that looked deceptively calm. Like how those asshole social workers usually looked. "Sorry for that Mr. De Guzman, we ran into some problems. But rest assured, we will be done soon and you can go on home." Jose stifled his relieved sigh, trying to keep his guard up no matter how desperate he was to go home. He wasn't stupid, this could still turn side ways. The door opened, and a man in another gray suit entered. He was carrying his own tablet, and Jose finally let out a sigh, of disappointment though. Because of course it wasn't over. "Thank you for your patience," he said. Jose barely kept the scoff at bah, not wanting to offend and get himself in deeper. The man turned his tablet own, fiddled a bit, before looking at Jose with the same smile the woman had. He could feel his hackles rise. "So, Jose De Guzman." His voice was a smooth and calm baritone that reminded him of a therapist. Oh no, definitely not good. "We just wanted to ask some questions." "Of course you do," he finally let out, patience worn thin. So he want getting out of this anytime soon? Fantastic. "Don't worry, they had nothing to do with the incident from hours earlier," said the woman. The man nodded and showed Jose his tablet. On the screen was a picture of Jose. On the side was list of details. Jose was left confused. "Okay? Why am I here then?" He did not like the vibe he was getting. The woman saw him tense, because she smiled wider and spoke with a soothing voice. "Relax kid, we're not gonna bite." Jose did not believe them for a second. "We just wanted to know about some details about you." "I have rights you know," Jose asked, trying to keep the tremors of nervousness down. "You can't keep me detained this long." "But Mr. De Guzman, we aren't detaining you," the man said. "We're here to request your help." Okay what? "What?" Jose asked. "You came at me with guns ready just to ask for my help?" "Of course," they both replied, like it was normal to kidnap people when they buy their groceries at 1 am. Jose wanted to punch something so bad right now. "And you couldn't have come to my office, or maybe during the day, because?" "Because we have no time." All pretense of cheer was gone, and what was left was a deathly seriousness. He felt himself tense further, his emotions turning into a storm. And his inner light was starting to pulse in accordance to his fear. He desperately tried to keep a grip as he spoke as calmly as possible. "I have no interest to what this is about. And I'm not the guy you need" He slowly but calmly rose from his seat, palms up, as he slowly walked backwards to the door. Except another guy in a suit walked out, effectively blocking his escape. He let out a curse and tried to be nonchalant. "So if you could just please let me go so I can go back to my mids before my husband gets home, that would be really ni-" "We can't let you leave Apollo." Jose froze, body unmoving as the old words resonated through his brain. He stood silently, his inner light getting hotter and hotter, ready to be let out. "No one calls me that anymore." His voice sounded dull and old, ancient and tired. This was not his voice. Who was speaking? "That's because the world thought they didn't need you anymore." The woman spoke with no humor nor ill intent. Yet it still stung him deeply as she said it. Yet he fought that old buzz and tried to pull himself from the hole, from the tumbling dark oblivion of his buried secrets "That's the name of the old me, the name of an agent. Of a killer. Not me." It was still the voice that was his but also not. A voice from a distant past that he had almost forgotten. "We apologize, truly we do," the man had a soft voice filled with regret. He was truly sorry for this. Jose couldn't say he felt the same. "If we had any other choice," he continued, "then we wouldn't have gotten you. But the agency has fallen on hard times and we need every agent back on the field." "I was free from my obligation. Meaning you had no right to bring me back." "Not unless the Storm-born have returned." Jose tensed at the word, heart beating faster. He turned slowly to the two, both wearing matching frowns. "Did you say the Storm-born?" They nodded. Jose just stared. His inner light flared brighter and brighter, threatening to escape his tenuous control. Deep breaths deep breaths. "How many?" he finally asked when he felt less likely to snap. "Six have already been sighted." "Six?!" So many! That had never happened before! But the woman nodded, almost regretfully, and turned her tablet to him. He grabbed it and read the words on the screen. 6 kids. Each from different parts of the world. A baby from the Philippines, the survivor of a volcanic eruption that buried a city. One from Saudi Arabia after a sandstorm buried an entire village, the only one that was found. A baby from Kashmir found in the remnants of a blizzard. A baby rescued from a forest fire in California. One who was found in the floating remains of a cargo ship after a hurricane in the North Atlantic. And a baby found in on a roof top after a tornado. Each survived a natural disaster. All were found as vulnerable newborns, small and weak, left alone to die. "Or to thrive, as nature wanted them," he whispered under his breath, as he read more about them. The familiar story, lost, abandoned, fighters, survivors. Something he knew truly. He gave the tablet back to the woman, letting out a resigned sigh. He knew he could still walk away. They knew that too but gave him his space. He didn't need it though. He knew what he had to do. "Where do I suit up?" he said, Jose De Guzman melting away as Agent Apollo returned. The two smiled, relief in their eyes but well hidden from their expressions. "Good to have you back Agent." Jose said nothing, smiling grimly as his inner light grew treacherously brighter, light and heat and gamma radiation threatening to spill from his palms.
	[WP] A phenomena begins to occur where newborn babies are found amidst the aftermath of natural disasters. Tsunamis, avalanches, wild fires, destructive lightning storms, etc. These 'Storm-Born' humans grow up with powers based on the disasters that birthed them.	“Did you see this?” Cally says, slapping me awake with the newspaper. “That’s the 5th Storm-Born to go crazy this year.” “Years are long babe,” I respond trying to ignore her and go back to bed. “A couple people are bound to go crazy.” “It’s only May, Jack. That’s one a month. Kinda weird ain’t it? Aren’t you worried you could be next? Besides, you know this one.” She has my attention now. I sit up and begin to read the story in the dim light of our tiny apartment. “Jessica Long, fondly known as ‘Flame Heart’, was being honors for her thrilling heroics earlier this year by the President himself. The celebratory event quickly turned grim as, without warning, Ms. Long used her abilities to set the First Lady’s wig on fire.” The picture of Jessie reminds me of those days I keep trying to forget. A few years ago, they rounded up a bunch of Storm-Born teenagers to train them to ‘serve their nation’ and ‘be heroes.’ The Academy was a terrible idea. A bunch of pubescent and powered kids running around together just around the age they discover sex, drugs, and booze. Genius. It was common for the Storm-Born to be orphans given the circumstances of our birth. A lot of us still had families, being adopted by relatives. A couple of us got lucky in the system, the golden goose that adoptive parents were looking for when they wanted “gifted” children. I wasn’t in either group. I never felt like I had a family before I met Jessie and Zack at the academy. It was nice while it lasted. “Jessie was always a wild card,” I tell Cally. “If comes with the territory when you’re born during a volcanic eruption. Hey, can I have a drink?” “No!” she rolls her eyes. “Last time you drank everything and didn’t save any for me.” “Fine. I’ll go to the liquor store. Where are my pants?” The Dallas son bears down hot this time of year. The heat waves radiate off the asphalt, powerful enough to cook a whole chicken not just the egg. My ears are met with a crunch every step I take on the dried out the gross. This weather is why I moved here. “One bottle of Jack for Jack,” Fast Eddie says though his missing tooth as he rings me up. “That’ll be $19.99.” “I’ve only got $17 Eddie, but you know I’m good for it.” “Fine. But you have to let me take a vide-uh of you drinkin’ it.” I shrug. Why not? If getting a couple views online makes Eddie happy, who am I still stand in the way? I raise the bottle up over my head and give Eddie a wink. He’s grinning wider than when he sees the local cougar coming into the store to use her “handy-dandy discount” as Eddie calls it. I tip the bottle back, letting the liquid flow down my gullet. There’s nothing like the feeling of good booze. That sensation that’s somehow both wet and dry. I can’t get enough. Within seconds, the bottle is emptied out and I feel right as rain. “God damn, Jack. For such a skinny feller I really don’t know where you put all them booze.” I begin to walk home. In the heat, my mind wanders back to days of the Academy. We made sense, in a weird way, Jessie, Zack, and I. She was as fiery as her birth right and he was the exact opposite. I stood somewhere in the middle, somewhere wet yet dry. I don’t think they would have ever even spoken if I wasn’t there. Zack’s bleach blonde hair and surfer necklace would have been an instant turn off for her, but somehow I brought the two of them together. God. I should have never let them screw. As I walk inside, Cally is laying on the couch. She’s rereading that article and she has news clipping from stories of the four other Storm-Born who went crazy this year sprawled across the room. “When was the last time you spoke to Jessie? Or Zack even?” “I don’t know, probably like a month after we all left the Academy.” “Tell me again about what happened with you guys.” “I’ve told you that enough times.” I say, sighing. “Jessie drank the hero kool-aid the government was spilling and Zack wanted something more, something deeper, whatever that means. They both wanted me to come with them but this is what I want.” “Yeah, your powers would be pretty lame for a hero.” “Thanks Cally.” “I bet Zack went to a beach somewhere.” “I don’t care.” Sleep eludes me tonight. Questions bombard mind. What if it’s not a coicince? What if we are going crazy? What if I go crazy? Should I leave Cally? Is it safer for her if I do? My tossing and turning wakes her up. There’s no chance at hiding from her that something on my mind. “Hey honey, she says. “Tell me again that cheesy reason you love me.” “Because I can drink you up forever.” “Now tell me what’s on your mind.” My phone vibrates between us. “Hey drought boy,” Zack’s voice crashes against my ears like a tidal wave. “I need your help.”	"So when can I go home?" Jose asked. The lady in front of him simply sent him a smile before turning to her tablet. Jose turned a disgruntled gaze to the door behind him, looking like the greatest temptation in the world. She typed in something, tutted, and typed some more. She had her hair down in loose waves, a pair of thick glasses on hair eyes. She wore a suit that was a dark grey with accents of lighter grey. Her nails weren't polished, and she wore little make up. And the reason Jose even bothered with these details was because he had been stuck in this god forsaken room for 3 FUCKING HOURS. "Can I please go home now? I have a pair of twins to look after." Jose sighed. "Look, I didn't do it ok? I was just going to the store to buy some baby formula? I had nothing to do with the car crash okay?" The woman said nothing and kept on typing. Jose wanted to tear his hair out in frustration. But of course, he couldn't do that. If his Mexican looking ass showed any aggression, well he might just make things worse. So he took in deep breaths, and tried not to think of the injustice of racism, faulty justice systems, and his accursed luck. But finally, the woman turned away from the tablet, and gave him a smile. It was a teeth, pearly whites that looked deceptively calm. Like how those asshole social workers usually looked. "Sorry for that Mr. De Guzman, we ran into some problems. But rest assured, we will be done soon and you can go on home." Jose stifled his relieved sigh, trying to keep his guard up no matter how desperate he was to go home. He wasn't stupid, this could still turn side ways. The door opened, and a man in another gray suit entered. He was carrying his own tablet, and Jose finally let out a sigh, of disappointment though. Because of course it wasn't over. "Thank you for your patience," he said. Jose barely kept the scoff at bah, not wanting to offend and get himself in deeper. The man turned his tablet own, fiddled a bit, before looking at Jose with the same smile the woman had. He could feel his hackles rise. "So, Jose De Guzman." His voice was a smooth and calm baritone that reminded him of a therapist. Oh no, definitely not good. "We just wanted to ask some questions." "Of course you do," he finally let out, patience worn thin. So he want getting out of this anytime soon? Fantastic. "Don't worry, they had nothing to do with the incident from hours earlier," said the woman. The man nodded and showed Jose his tablet. On the screen was a picture of Jose. On the side was list of details. Jose was left confused. "Okay? Why am I here then?" He did not like the vibe he was getting. The woman saw him tense, because she smiled wider and spoke with a soothing voice. "Relax kid, we're not gonna bite." Jose did not believe them for a second. "We just wanted to know about some details about you." "I have rights you know," Jose asked, trying to keep the tremors of nervousness down. "You can't keep me detained this long." "But Mr. De Guzman, we aren't detaining you," the man said. "We're here to request your help." Okay what? "What?" Jose asked. "You came at me with guns ready just to ask for my help?" "Of course," they both replied, like it was normal to kidnap people when they buy their groceries at 1 am. Jose wanted to punch something so bad right now. "And you couldn't have come to my office, or maybe during the day, because?" "Because we have no time." All pretense of cheer was gone, and what was left was a deathly seriousness. He felt himself tense further, his emotions turning into a storm. And his inner light was starting to pulse in accordance to his fear. He desperately tried to keep a grip as he spoke as calmly as possible. "I have no interest to what this is about. And I'm not the guy you need" He slowly but calmly rose from his seat, palms up, as he slowly walked backwards to the door. Except another guy in a suit walked out, effectively blocking his escape. He let out a curse and tried to be nonchalant. "So if you could just please let me go so I can go back to my mids before my husband gets home, that would be really ni-" "We can't let you leave Apollo." Jose froze, body unmoving as the old words resonated through his brain. He stood silently, his inner light getting hotter and hotter, ready to be let out. "No one calls me that anymore." His voice sounded dull and old, ancient and tired. This was not his voice. Who was speaking? "That's because the world thought they didn't need you anymore." The woman spoke with no humor nor ill intent. Yet it still stung him deeply as she said it. Yet he fought that old buzz and tried to pull himself from the hole, from the tumbling dark oblivion of his buried secrets "That's the name of the old me, the name of an agent. Of a killer. Not me." It was still the voice that was his but also not. A voice from a distant past that he had almost forgotten. "We apologize, truly we do," the man had a soft voice filled with regret. He was truly sorry for this. Jose couldn't say he felt the same. "If we had any other choice," he continued, "then we wouldn't have gotten you. But the agency has fallen on hard times and we need every agent back on the field." "I was free from my obligation. Meaning you had no right to bring me back." "Not unless the Storm-born have returned." Jose tensed at the word, heart beating faster. He turned slowly to the two, both wearing matching frowns. "Did you say the Storm-born?" They nodded. Jose just stared. His inner light flared brighter and brighter, threatening to escape his tenuous control. Deep breaths deep breaths. "How many?" he finally asked when he felt less likely to snap. "Six have already been sighted." "Six?!" So many! That had never happened before! But the woman nodded, almost regretfully, and turned her tablet to him. He grabbed it and read the words on the screen. 6 kids. Each from different parts of the world. A baby from the Philippines, the survivor of a volcanic eruption that buried a city. One from Saudi Arabia after a sandstorm buried an entire village, the only one that was found. A baby from Kashmir found in the remnants of a blizzard. A baby rescued from a forest fire in California. One who was found in the floating remains of a cargo ship after a hurricane in the North Atlantic. And a baby found in on a roof top after a tornado. Each survived a natural disaster. All were found as vulnerable newborns, small and weak, left alone to die. "Or to thrive, as nature wanted them," he whispered under his breath, as he read more about them. The familiar story, lost, abandoned, fighters, survivors. Something he knew truly. He gave the tablet back to the woman, letting out a resigned sigh. He knew he could still walk away. They knew that too but gave him his space. He didn't need it though. He knew what he had to do. "Where do I suit up?" he said, Jose De Guzman melting away as Agent Apollo returned. The two smiled, relief in their eyes but well hidden from their expressions. "Good to have you back Agent." Jose said nothing, smiling grimly as his inner light grew treacherously brighter, light and heat and gamma radiation threatening to spill from his palms.

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