post_text stringlengths 0 10k | post_title stringlengths 8 313 | chosen stringlengths 1 39.5k | rejected stringlengths 1 13.8k |
|---|---|---|---|
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | "You're an officer from World War I at the south pole being pursued by an alien through frozen time. Madness was never this good." I said, a smile forming across my face.
"World War 1?" Looking at me, confused. I'm not sure why.
"Judging by the uniform, yes." I started going back to my business.
"Yes but...What do you mean..." his voice started to muffle. "One?"
"Spoilers."
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IkWxMG-JDk4 |
“No.”
I shut my eyes tightly for a heartbeat and shake my head imploringly. Why can’t this man just believe me; why can’t he see the desperation that is radiating from my very being? (Control your emotions, I think, repeating the mantra that has been drilled into my head. Stay calm.)
“Sir, sir, please, you have to understand—!” I’m begging him, now. My head is spinning; how can I be failing at my only job! I came back to 1918, leaving everything I know behind, just for this...
He stares at me with his dark, piercing gaze, and his gaze a mixture of disbelief and veiled curiosity. “I can’t believe you without proper evidence, miss. Please, tell me why I should travel to Germany, spending an exorbitant amount of money along the way.”
“You have to understand,” I repeat desperately. And, in my fearfulness and scramble to convince him, I make my greatest mistake yet.“That war—the Great War, World War One—is not the end of turmoil. Please!”
And he goes extremely still, blanching. I freeze, too, and begin to feel confused, until he speaks again. His tone is hushed and beyond fear-filled. It’s pure terror. Until this moment, I never realized the power of one, simple phrase, how much emotion three small words can convey.
“World War One?” | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | "World war one?"
A short soldier, likely much younger than he claimed to be, was looking up at his older comrade. His pure blue eyes were filled with concern. The older solider paused for a moment, deep in thought. He wondered if he should tell him of the future he lived, after all, he had already explained where he came from. Their little secret.
"It's a long story" he replied, trying to dismiss the question.
The kid wasn't going to take that kind of answer. He may have been young, but he was far from stupid. "What happened in the future? Is that why you came back? To stop another war? Did we lose?" he asked in much more of a demanding tone.
Knowing that he would not back down, the older soldier sighed, and sat down in a worn down chair. After a moment had passed he finally spoke. "Yes, we lost! While I was wounded too! I couldn't accept it! Our enemies took everything from us! Our proud people! After some time, we fought back though. I wanted vengeance. I wanted justice. That didn't happen." His words were filled with passion, both with pride and hatred. He straightened his German uniform.
"So that's why you came back... But with you here we can prevent that future?"
The older solider stood up with such an inspirational aura, that it alone, could bring hope to those around him. "Yes, we will strike them down this time. I don't intend on repeating history again."
The young soldier was bursting with questions, and filled with inspiration. Such a marvellous man, he just had to know his real name. "You said before that you're using a fake name. What is your real name?"
The older solider liked this kid, and decided he would tell him on one condition. "Don't. Tell. Anyone." He smiled and ruffled the kids hair. "My real name is Adolf Hitler."
(Probably not very good but I had the idea and wanted to put it out there) |
“No.”
I shut my eyes tightly for a heartbeat and shake my head imploringly. Why can’t this man just believe me; why can’t he see the desperation that is radiating from my very being? (Control your emotions, I think, repeating the mantra that has been drilled into my head. Stay calm.)
“Sir, sir, please, you have to understand—!” I’m begging him, now. My head is spinning; how can I be failing at my only job! I came back to 1918, leaving everything I know behind, just for this...
He stares at me with his dark, piercing gaze, and his gaze a mixture of disbelief and veiled curiosity. “I can’t believe you without proper evidence, miss. Please, tell me why I should travel to Germany, spending an exorbitant amount of money along the way.”
“You have to understand,” I repeat desperately. And, in my fearfulness and scramble to convince him, I make my greatest mistake yet.“That war—the Great War, World War One—is not the end of turmoil. Please!”
And he goes extremely still, blanching. I freeze, too, and begin to feel confused, until he speaks again. His tone is hushed and beyond fear-filled. It’s pure terror. Until this moment, I never realized the power of one, simple phrase, how much emotion three small words can convey.
“World War One?” | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | Silence hit the table I was at. Alone in 1918, I sat at a table in Chinatown, San Fransisco, across from a well dressed banker and a surprisingly well dressed butcher. The brothers had tea with each other weekly, and after working for the butcher for a few months, I had been invited along
And then suddenly... laughter. The brothers let out a roar of laughter each, rocking the tea off our table, and across the floor "Oh, a world war?! Theres no way that could ever happen!" The banker said, reaching a lanky arm across the table to pat my shoulder "What, would South America be fighting Africa, Asia and Australia, and us with the Europeans? Or are you saying Antartica will rise and fight us for domination?" He added, and as his fatter brother wiped tears from his eyes
"Ah, it was just a joke. From home... Whenever things seem to good, we joke that the World will have a war across all of it... He he." I said, sweating as I could have just ruined history | I walked into swanky uptown bar where many former soldiers were there celebrating the end of the war. I sat down at a booth looked around for alittle bit there was lieutenant his patch on his dress uniform read out 34th infantry division. Another persons was 25th artillery division from what I had learned from history lesson I gave myself before I accepting this mission. They had served in near versailies. A waiter came up to me and set down a drink he said it was on the house. I thanked him started sip on it was brandy aged a couple years they really must very happy to see this war end. Sailor walked up to my table and asked to sit down. I complied and asked him if he wanted I drink he said no. “I’m so glad this war is over finslly we have a chance at peace” He exclaimed Yea I’m world war one is over” - “World war one” he asked with one eyebrow cocked.
Fuck what have I done | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | I'd hate to break it to you, friend, but they called it "World War I" then too. The term "First World War" was first used in September 1914 by the German biologist and philosopher Ernst Haeckel, who claimed that "there is no doubt that the course and character of the feared 'European War' ... will become the first world war in the full sense of the word," citing a wire service report in The Indianapolis Star on 20 September 1914. | I walked into swanky uptown bar where many former soldiers were there celebrating the end of the war. I sat down at a booth looked around for alittle bit there was lieutenant his patch on his dress uniform read out 34th infantry division. Another persons was 25th artillery division from what I had learned from history lesson I gave myself before I accepting this mission. They had served in near versailies. A waiter came up to me and set down a drink he said it was on the house. I thanked him started sip on it was brandy aged a couple years they really must very happy to see this war end. Sailor walked up to my table and asked to sit down. I complied and asked him if he wanted I drink he said no. “I’m so glad this war is over finslly we have a chance at peace” He exclaimed Yea I’m world war one is over” - “World war one” he asked with one eyebrow cocked.
Fuck what have I done | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | I had come to the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month of 1918 to hear the guns fall silent. I had ended up with a British unit on the western front and was trying to blend in as a journalist reporting on the armistice.
I was reporting on it, but it was for the 500th anniversary. Everyone in the history department had worked so hard to get access to the machine and for it to be a representative from the University of Michigan to be sent back and be able to 'remember the day' for the whole world.
A few last guns fire in the distance, rifles, machine guns, and one lone piece of artillery. As the hour approaches they slow until at 11:00am silence falls. But there are no sounds of wildlife. The soldiers around begin to cheer, they now can believe that they will be going home.
Moving away from the crowd of enlisted I found myself next to a British officer as I said out loud to myself, "So that's the end of World War I."
The reality of what I had said quickly changed my solemn demeanor to fear of what the lieutenant colonel who clearly heard me would do with that information. He said to me, "[Indeed, I shouldn't be surprised if we had a second world war before too long.] (http://qi.com/infocloud/the-first-world-war)" | I walked into swanky uptown bar where many former soldiers were there celebrating the end of the war. I sat down at a booth looked around for alittle bit there was lieutenant his patch on his dress uniform read out 34th infantry division. Another persons was 25th artillery division from what I had learned from history lesson I gave myself before I accepting this mission. They had served in near versailies. A waiter came up to me and set down a drink he said it was on the house. I thanked him started sip on it was brandy aged a couple years they really must very happy to see this war end. Sailor walked up to my table and asked to sit down. I complied and asked him if he wanted I drink he said no. “I’m so glad this war is over finslly we have a chance at peace” He exclaimed Yea I’m world war one is over” - “World war one” he asked with one eyebrow cocked.
Fuck what have I done | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | "World War One was a doozy!"
"What do you mean? The Great War is the last of its kind by the grace of God."
"Oh, you think that now, but I am here to warn of World War 4, if mankind doesn't unite under one banner then the creatures from beyond will surely win."
*Shows the crowd a picture from the game Resistance*
"I call on all world leaders and powers to put aside petty desires and think of the future. If we are to survive the coming war, we must be as one people and one voice."
70 years later, no invasion happened, but every major conflict of the 1900's after World War One was avoided due to fear of an outside enemy. The time traveler died in a bar fight in 1933. | I walked into swanky uptown bar where many former soldiers were there celebrating the end of the war. I sat down at a booth looked around for alittle bit there was lieutenant his patch on his dress uniform read out 34th infantry division. Another persons was 25th artillery division from what I had learned from history lesson I gave myself before I accepting this mission. They had served in near versailies. A waiter came up to me and set down a drink he said it was on the house. I thanked him started sip on it was brandy aged a couple years they really must very happy to see this war end. Sailor walked up to my table and asked to sit down. I complied and asked him if he wanted I drink he said no. “I’m so glad this war is over finslly we have a chance at peace” He exclaimed Yea I’m world war one is over” - “World war one” he asked with one eyebrow cocked.
Fuck what have I done | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | I was sent back in time, but I couldn't really figure out where I was. Snow was falling from the sky and I could feel the windchill in my bones. A blizzard was brewing up. Stumbling through the streets, my first mission was to figure out what year I was sent back to. A young chap walking in my direction looked at me in shock. I didn't have coat on after all.
"Excuse me, excuse me." I attempted to slow down the young man. "Would you know what day it is?" Shivering from the deadly chill I tried not to mumble.
I knew something was off when I asked him that question, but I couldn't pinpoint what it was. The effects of time travel and the cold left me too disoriented.
"This is Wednesday." he responded. "Are you alright sir?"
Only then did I realize that I was speaking to him in German. I never learned German. Is this another side effect of time travel? I thought to myself.
"I'm sorry, but do you know the date?" I asked. Slowly jumping in the same spot trying to keep myself warm with what energy I had left.
He quickly took of his coat and wrapped it around my shoulders. "Sir, you shouldn't be out in this cold. Come with me, I live on the next block."
It's not like I had a choice. It was too cold to be out in this blizzard and I would surely die if I stayed out.
We made our way in, but I was still shivering. He quickly put a kettle on the stove to heat up some water and disappeared into another room for mere 20 seconds. He returned with a blanket in his hand.
"Here sir, I'm heating up some water so you can have some hot tea to warm yourself up. In the meantime wrap yourself in the blanket, it would help."
I took the soft wool blanket and like a silkworm wrapped the blanket around myself.
"Would you know what date it is?" I asked the young man again.
This time he responded. "Its December 15th, 1918. Did something happen to you sir? We should tell the police if somebody robbed you."
"No, No." I said. "So World War One Ended already. That's good. And the second hasn't started yet." As soon as the words left my mouth I realized my grave mistake.
The young chap in shock stumbled back and fell into a chair.
"What do you mean World War One?" He asked.
The kettle began to whistle on the stove, water bubbling like a geyser, began to boil out of the kettle.
I said to him "The water is boiling. You might want to turn that off."
He sat there looking at me not hearing my words. It took him about twenty seconds to collect himself before he went to turn the kettle off.
He made some tea and took out some food from the fridge and set it at the table. Without speaking a word he sat right next to me and poured both of us a cup.
"Thank you for your hospitality." I said, wrapping the hot cup of tea with my hands. "Not many people would invite a stranger into their home at this late hour."
Taking a slow sip from the cup was like taking a sip straight from the kettle. The tea was boiling hot, but as soon as it hit my throat I felt a warm sensation throughout my body.
"So what's your name sir? And why were you out there in the cold?" he asked me.
"Well you see, my name is Leon," I said to him trying to stall the conversation "It was my best friend's birthday yesterday and we might have had too much to drink."
He looked at me without blinking, staring through my soul. I knew he didn't believe me and all because of my stupid remark earlier.
To be courteous I asked him back "How about yourself?"
He took a drink from the boiling hot cup like he was drinking lukewarm water.
A chill went down my spine as he placed his cup on the table.
He responded "My name is Adolf, sir."
| I walked into swanky uptown bar where many former soldiers were there celebrating the end of the war. I sat down at a booth looked around for alittle bit there was lieutenant his patch on his dress uniform read out 34th infantry division. Another persons was 25th artillery division from what I had learned from history lesson I gave myself before I accepting this mission. They had served in near versailies. A waiter came up to me and set down a drink he said it was on the house. I thanked him started sip on it was brandy aged a couple years they really must very happy to see this war end. Sailor walked up to my table and asked to sit down. I complied and asked him if he wanted I drink he said no. “I’m so glad this war is over finslly we have a chance at peace” He exclaimed Yea I’m world war one is over” - “World war one” he asked with one eyebrow cocked.
Fuck what have I done | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | We had managed to find an empty room somewhere and commandeered a desk and two chairs. Outside was chaos, men scurrying to and fro in preparation for the Great Offensive that would finally bring The Enemy to his knees. In here, it was quiet as the tombs of millions.
I looked at the Lieutenant-Colonel, his face stony as the Cliffs of Dover, all hard and white and slowly crumbling as battle after battle breaks upon it. Great boulders shifted when he frowned in thought, and when his chalky lips parted they issued a voice much different from the one he used among his men.
"They simply call it 'The War', you know. *Their* war. Everyone involved is too busy just keeping their heads down. Those who kept theirs in the clouds and had a chance of seeing the bigger picture got them shot clean off a long time ago."
I nodded, remembering a story I had once read about a young boy and a bird. "Please go on, sir."
"They might call it the *Great* War, when it's done and there's time to think, but we already used that one for Napoleon."
"The *German* War, perhaps? In a way it's their first."
The man scoffed so hard that I could almost see tiny pebbles sliding down his face to join the scree of his chin. "Wouldn't the Kaiser be pleased at that! No, Major, that won't do. It would be seen as giving credit to the Hun."
We lapsed into a thoughtful silence then, our eyes settling on the surface of the desk between us. Idly I traced its grain with my eyes, noting its salients and re-entrants. A large knot indicated a fortress in the southwest of this oaken kingdom.
"A *World* War." I felt an eyebrow raise involuntarily. Believing it to be confusion, the man continued. "Think about it. All of Europe is a battlefield. Britain with all her colonies, France, Russia, and now you Americans united against the Hun and the Turk. All the globe is aflame. How else to describe such a thing? It is The World War, surpassing all others in scope."
I allowed myself a thin smile. Yes, this is right. The World War. More right than he even knew. Millions dead, but not long before they are joined by many millions more. World War *One*.
There were now two large caves in the rock face before me, eyes widened in surprise. Three now, as the Lieutenant-Colonel's mouth began to gape. Slowly the realization crept in that I had spoken that last phrase aloud.
*Shit!*
The gears were nearly audible as they turned in the Englishman's head, and I knew I had to think quckly. World War One implied World War Two, which raised the uncomfortable question of "What does America know that Britain doesn't?" From there it isn't far to "What is America planning?" *Shit!*
"It's a warning." My lips had moved almost on their own. Thoughts belatedly arrived. "There are groups of people, I'm sure you've seen them. Those who have another name for this conflict: The War To End All Wars."
"Yes, the Millennials."
"They're wrong, of course. There will be no 'thousand years of peace.' But many believe them, believe that no enemy would dare repeat the horrors of today. We can't allow such complacency. It would be our undoing."
"And World War One..?"
"A reminder that what happens once can happen again. There *will* be a World War Two. Someday."
"Someday. Let us hope it is a long day off."
I nodded. Twenty years is a long time, and yet so terribly short. I had hoped to continue my work over the interim period, follow the threads of history as they tie themselves into the knots of the true World War, but I was getting sloppy. *Complacent*. There could be no mistakes between now and D-day, no matter how small. With a small sigh of regret, I scratched at the comm circuit implanted behind my ear and subvocalized my instructions. The reply came immediately. A replacement would be sent, and arrangements would be made for my departure in two subjective years. Just enough time to finish my report on the end of World War: Act 1.
------------------
Inspired by [this comment](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/7iubwq/wp_you_are_a_time_traveler_in_1918_and_you_just/dr1uwmz/) explaining how the term "World War One" actually came to be. | I walked into swanky uptown bar where many former soldiers were there celebrating the end of the war. I sat down at a booth looked around for alittle bit there was lieutenant his patch on his dress uniform read out 34th infantry division. Another persons was 25th artillery division from what I had learned from history lesson I gave myself before I accepting this mission. They had served in near versailies. A waiter came up to me and set down a drink he said it was on the house. I thanked him started sip on it was brandy aged a couple years they really must very happy to see this war end. Sailor walked up to my table and asked to sit down. I complied and asked him if he wanted I drink he said no. “I’m so glad this war is over finslly we have a chance at peace” He exclaimed Yea I’m world war one is over” - “World war one” he asked with one eyebrow cocked.
Fuck what have I done | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | Silence filled the room. Finally, the general spoke. “World war one?” he said, softly. “Son, your history books are so, so wrong; but then I don’t blame your grandparents for covering up the truth.... this is world war six”. | I walked into swanky uptown bar where many former soldiers were there celebrating the end of the war. I sat down at a booth looked around for alittle bit there was lieutenant his patch on his dress uniform read out 34th infantry division. Another persons was 25th artillery division from what I had learned from history lesson I gave myself before I accepting this mission. They had served in near versailies. A waiter came up to me and set down a drink he said it was on the house. I thanked him started sip on it was brandy aged a couple years they really must very happy to see this war end. Sailor walked up to my table and asked to sit down. I complied and asked him if he wanted I drink he said no. “I’m so glad this war is over finslly we have a chance at peace” He exclaimed Yea I’m world war one is over” - “World war one” he asked with one eyebrow cocked.
Fuck what have I done | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | "World war one?"
A short soldier, likely much younger than he claimed to be, was looking up at his older comrade. His pure blue eyes were filled with concern. The older solider paused for a moment, deep in thought. He wondered if he should tell him of the future he lived, after all, he had already explained where he came from. Their little secret.
"It's a long story" he replied, trying to dismiss the question.
The kid wasn't going to take that kind of answer. He may have been young, but he was far from stupid. "What happened in the future? Is that why you came back? To stop another war? Did we lose?" he asked in much more of a demanding tone.
Knowing that he would not back down, the older soldier sighed, and sat down in a worn down chair. After a moment had passed he finally spoke. "Yes, we lost! While I was wounded too! I couldn't accept it! Our enemies took everything from us! Our proud people! After some time, we fought back though. I wanted vengeance. I wanted justice. That didn't happen." His words were filled with passion, both with pride and hatred. He straightened his German uniform.
"So that's why you came back... But with you here we can prevent that future?"
The older solider stood up with such an inspirational aura, that it alone, could bring hope to those around him. "Yes, we will strike them down this time. I don't intend on repeating history again."
The young soldier was bursting with questions, and filled with inspiration. Such a marvellous man, he just had to know his real name. "You said before that you're using a fake name. What is your real name?"
The older solider liked this kid, and decided he would tell him on one condition. "Don't. Tell. Anyone." He smiled and ruffled the kids hair. "My real name is Adolf Hitler."
(Probably not very good but I had the idea and wanted to put it out there) | I walked into swanky uptown bar where many former soldiers were there celebrating the end of the war. I sat down at a booth looked around for alittle bit there was lieutenant his patch on his dress uniform read out 34th infantry division. Another persons was 25th artillery division from what I had learned from history lesson I gave myself before I accepting this mission. They had served in near versailies. A waiter came up to me and set down a drink he said it was on the house. I thanked him started sip on it was brandy aged a couple years they really must very happy to see this war end. Sailor walked up to my table and asked to sit down. I complied and asked him if he wanted I drink he said no. “I’m so glad this war is over finslly we have a chance at peace” He exclaimed Yea I’m world war one is over” - “World war one” he asked with one eyebrow cocked.
Fuck what have I done | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | I'd hate to break it to you, friend, but they called it "World War I" then too. The term "First World War" was first used in September 1914 by the German biologist and philosopher Ernst Haeckel, who claimed that "there is no doubt that the course and character of the feared 'European War' ... will become the first world war in the full sense of the word," citing a wire service report in The Indianapolis Star on 20 September 1914. | "Yeah," the man across from him morosely agreed, adjusting the bandages wrapped around his face and leaneing back into the half-propped mattress, like 'World War One' was an everyday word. A part of him hated to admit that the poor bastard being blind was probably for the better, because he was staring, trying to figure out if that was blood leaking from where his eyes were under all that fucking gauze.
Why the fuck were people so obsessed with these cars back in his day? The chassis humped every lump of mud, pebble, and puddle on their way back, and the way it dipped forced his head about - catching the sight of a line of men with similar bandages sporting similar i-really-hope-that's-not-blood spots in a line, holding on to the shoulder of whoever was in front of them.
Some idiot was yelling 'It's a Long Way to Tipperary' in the distance. Glad to see morons with misplaced sense of humors were timeless.
The idiot stopped singing after the artillery barrage stopped. | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | I had come to the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month of 1918 to hear the guns fall silent. I had ended up with a British unit on the western front and was trying to blend in as a journalist reporting on the armistice.
I was reporting on it, but it was for the 500th anniversary. Everyone in the history department had worked so hard to get access to the machine and for it to be a representative from the University of Michigan to be sent back and be able to 'remember the day' for the whole world.
A few last guns fire in the distance, rifles, machine guns, and one lone piece of artillery. As the hour approaches they slow until at 11:00am silence falls. But there are no sounds of wildlife. The soldiers around begin to cheer, they now can believe that they will be going home.
Moving away from the crowd of enlisted I found myself next to a British officer as I said out loud to myself, "So that's the end of World War I."
The reality of what I had said quickly changed my solemn demeanor to fear of what the lieutenant colonel who clearly heard me would do with that information. He said to me, "[Indeed, I shouldn't be surprised if we had a second world war before too long.] (http://qi.com/infocloud/the-first-world-war)" | "Yeah," the man across from him morosely agreed, adjusting the bandages wrapped around his face and leaneing back into the half-propped mattress, like 'World War One' was an everyday word. A part of him hated to admit that the poor bastard being blind was probably for the better, because he was staring, trying to figure out if that was blood leaking from where his eyes were under all that fucking gauze.
Why the fuck were people so obsessed with these cars back in his day? The chassis humped every lump of mud, pebble, and puddle on their way back, and the way it dipped forced his head about - catching the sight of a line of men with similar bandages sporting similar i-really-hope-that's-not-blood spots in a line, holding on to the shoulder of whoever was in front of them.
Some idiot was yelling 'It's a Long Way to Tipperary' in the distance. Glad to see morons with misplaced sense of humors were timeless.
The idiot stopped singing after the artillery barrage stopped. | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | "World War One was a doozy!"
"What do you mean? The Great War is the last of its kind by the grace of God."
"Oh, you think that now, but I am here to warn of World War 4, if mankind doesn't unite under one banner then the creatures from beyond will surely win."
*Shows the crowd a picture from the game Resistance*
"I call on all world leaders and powers to put aside petty desires and think of the future. If we are to survive the coming war, we must be as one people and one voice."
70 years later, no invasion happened, but every major conflict of the 1900's after World War One was avoided due to fear of an outside enemy. The time traveler died in a bar fight in 1933. | "Yeah," the man across from him morosely agreed, adjusting the bandages wrapped around his face and leaneing back into the half-propped mattress, like 'World War One' was an everyday word. A part of him hated to admit that the poor bastard being blind was probably for the better, because he was staring, trying to figure out if that was blood leaking from where his eyes were under all that fucking gauze.
Why the fuck were people so obsessed with these cars back in his day? The chassis humped every lump of mud, pebble, and puddle on their way back, and the way it dipped forced his head about - catching the sight of a line of men with similar bandages sporting similar i-really-hope-that's-not-blood spots in a line, holding on to the shoulder of whoever was in front of them.
Some idiot was yelling 'It's a Long Way to Tipperary' in the distance. Glad to see morons with misplaced sense of humors were timeless.
The idiot stopped singing after the artillery barrage stopped. | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | I was sent back in time, but I couldn't really figure out where I was. Snow was falling from the sky and I could feel the windchill in my bones. A blizzard was brewing up. Stumbling through the streets, my first mission was to figure out what year I was sent back to. A young chap walking in my direction looked at me in shock. I didn't have coat on after all.
"Excuse me, excuse me." I attempted to slow down the young man. "Would you know what day it is?" Shivering from the deadly chill I tried not to mumble.
I knew something was off when I asked him that question, but I couldn't pinpoint what it was. The effects of time travel and the cold left me too disoriented.
"This is Wednesday." he responded. "Are you alright sir?"
Only then did I realize that I was speaking to him in German. I never learned German. Is this another side effect of time travel? I thought to myself.
"I'm sorry, but do you know the date?" I asked. Slowly jumping in the same spot trying to keep myself warm with what energy I had left.
He quickly took of his coat and wrapped it around my shoulders. "Sir, you shouldn't be out in this cold. Come with me, I live on the next block."
It's not like I had a choice. It was too cold to be out in this blizzard and I would surely die if I stayed out.
We made our way in, but I was still shivering. He quickly put a kettle on the stove to heat up some water and disappeared into another room for mere 20 seconds. He returned with a blanket in his hand.
"Here sir, I'm heating up some water so you can have some hot tea to warm yourself up. In the meantime wrap yourself in the blanket, it would help."
I took the soft wool blanket and like a silkworm wrapped the blanket around myself.
"Would you know what date it is?" I asked the young man again.
This time he responded. "Its December 15th, 1918. Did something happen to you sir? We should tell the police if somebody robbed you."
"No, No." I said. "So World War One Ended already. That's good. And the second hasn't started yet." As soon as the words left my mouth I realized my grave mistake.
The young chap in shock stumbled back and fell into a chair.
"What do you mean World War One?" He asked.
The kettle began to whistle on the stove, water bubbling like a geyser, began to boil out of the kettle.
I said to him "The water is boiling. You might want to turn that off."
He sat there looking at me not hearing my words. It took him about twenty seconds to collect himself before he went to turn the kettle off.
He made some tea and took out some food from the fridge and set it at the table. Without speaking a word he sat right next to me and poured both of us a cup.
"Thank you for your hospitality." I said, wrapping the hot cup of tea with my hands. "Not many people would invite a stranger into their home at this late hour."
Taking a slow sip from the cup was like taking a sip straight from the kettle. The tea was boiling hot, but as soon as it hit my throat I felt a warm sensation throughout my body.
"So what's your name sir? And why were you out there in the cold?" he asked me.
"Well you see, my name is Leon," I said to him trying to stall the conversation "It was my best friend's birthday yesterday and we might have had too much to drink."
He looked at me without blinking, staring through my soul. I knew he didn't believe me and all because of my stupid remark earlier.
To be courteous I asked him back "How about yourself?"
He took a drink from the boiling hot cup like he was drinking lukewarm water.
A chill went down my spine as he placed his cup on the table.
He responded "My name is Adolf, sir."
| "Yeah," the man across from him morosely agreed, adjusting the bandages wrapped around his face and leaneing back into the half-propped mattress, like 'World War One' was an everyday word. A part of him hated to admit that the poor bastard being blind was probably for the better, because he was staring, trying to figure out if that was blood leaking from where his eyes were under all that fucking gauze.
Why the fuck were people so obsessed with these cars back in his day? The chassis humped every lump of mud, pebble, and puddle on their way back, and the way it dipped forced his head about - catching the sight of a line of men with similar bandages sporting similar i-really-hope-that's-not-blood spots in a line, holding on to the shoulder of whoever was in front of them.
Some idiot was yelling 'It's a Long Way to Tipperary' in the distance. Glad to see morons with misplaced sense of humors were timeless.
The idiot stopped singing after the artillery barrage stopped. | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | Silence filled the room. Finally, the general spoke. “World war one?” he said, softly. “Son, your history books are so, so wrong; but then I don’t blame your grandparents for covering up the truth.... this is world war six”. | "Yeah," the man across from him morosely agreed, adjusting the bandages wrapped around his face and leaneing back into the half-propped mattress, like 'World War One' was an everyday word. A part of him hated to admit that the poor bastard being blind was probably for the better, because he was staring, trying to figure out if that was blood leaking from where his eyes were under all that fucking gauze.
Why the fuck were people so obsessed with these cars back in his day? The chassis humped every lump of mud, pebble, and puddle on their way back, and the way it dipped forced his head about - catching the sight of a line of men with similar bandages sporting similar i-really-hope-that's-not-blood spots in a line, holding on to the shoulder of whoever was in front of them.
Some idiot was yelling 'It's a Long Way to Tipperary' in the distance. Glad to see morons with misplaced sense of humors were timeless.
The idiot stopped singing after the artillery barrage stopped. | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | I'd hate to break it to you, friend, but they called it "World War I" then too. The term "First World War" was first used in September 1914 by the German biologist and philosopher Ernst Haeckel, who claimed that "there is no doubt that the course and character of the feared 'European War' ... will become the first world war in the full sense of the word," citing a wire service report in The Indianapolis Star on 20 September 1914. | "Yeah," the man across from him morosely agreed, adjusting the bandages wrapped around his face and leaned back, like 'World War One' was an every day lexicon. A part of him hated to admit that the poor bastard being blind was probably for the better, because he was staring, trying to figure out if that was blood leaking from where his eyes were under all that fucking gauze.
Why the fuck were people so obsessed with these cars back in his day? The chassis humped every lump of mud, pebble, and puddle on their way back, and the way it dipped forced his head about - catching the sight of a line of men with similar bandages sporting similar i-really-hope-that's-not-blood spots in a line, holding on to the shoulder of whoever was in front of them.
Some idiot was yelling 'It's a Long Way to Tipperary' in the distance. Glad to see morons with misplaced sense of humors were timeless.
The idiot stopped singing after the artillery barrage stopped. | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | I had come to the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month of 1918 to hear the guns fall silent. I had ended up with a British unit on the western front and was trying to blend in as a journalist reporting on the armistice.
I was reporting on it, but it was for the 500th anniversary. Everyone in the history department had worked so hard to get access to the machine and for it to be a representative from the University of Michigan to be sent back and be able to 'remember the day' for the whole world.
A few last guns fire in the distance, rifles, machine guns, and one lone piece of artillery. As the hour approaches they slow until at 11:00am silence falls. But there are no sounds of wildlife. The soldiers around begin to cheer, they now can believe that they will be going home.
Moving away from the crowd of enlisted I found myself next to a British officer as I said out loud to myself, "So that's the end of World War I."
The reality of what I had said quickly changed my solemn demeanor to fear of what the lieutenant colonel who clearly heard me would do with that information. He said to me, "[Indeed, I shouldn't be surprised if we had a second world war before too long.] (http://qi.com/infocloud/the-first-world-war)" | "Yeah," the man across from him morosely agreed, adjusting the bandages wrapped around his face and leaned back, like 'World War One' was an every day lexicon. A part of him hated to admit that the poor bastard being blind was probably for the better, because he was staring, trying to figure out if that was blood leaking from where his eyes were under all that fucking gauze.
Why the fuck were people so obsessed with these cars back in his day? The chassis humped every lump of mud, pebble, and puddle on their way back, and the way it dipped forced his head about - catching the sight of a line of men with similar bandages sporting similar i-really-hope-that's-not-blood spots in a line, holding on to the shoulder of whoever was in front of them.
Some idiot was yelling 'It's a Long Way to Tipperary' in the distance. Glad to see morons with misplaced sense of humors were timeless.
The idiot stopped singing after the artillery barrage stopped. | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | "World War One was a doozy!"
"What do you mean? The Great War is the last of its kind by the grace of God."
"Oh, you think that now, but I am here to warn of World War 4, if mankind doesn't unite under one banner then the creatures from beyond will surely win."
*Shows the crowd a picture from the game Resistance*
"I call on all world leaders and powers to put aside petty desires and think of the future. If we are to survive the coming war, we must be as one people and one voice."
70 years later, no invasion happened, but every major conflict of the 1900's after World War One was avoided due to fear of an outside enemy. The time traveler died in a bar fight in 1933. | "Yeah," the man across from him morosely agreed, adjusting the bandages wrapped around his face and leaned back, like 'World War One' was an every day lexicon. A part of him hated to admit that the poor bastard being blind was probably for the better, because he was staring, trying to figure out if that was blood leaking from where his eyes were under all that fucking gauze.
Why the fuck were people so obsessed with these cars back in his day? The chassis humped every lump of mud, pebble, and puddle on their way back, and the way it dipped forced his head about - catching the sight of a line of men with similar bandages sporting similar i-really-hope-that's-not-blood spots in a line, holding on to the shoulder of whoever was in front of them.
Some idiot was yelling 'It's a Long Way to Tipperary' in the distance. Glad to see morons with misplaced sense of humors were timeless.
The idiot stopped singing after the artillery barrage stopped. | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | I'd hate to break it to you, friend, but they called it "World War I" then too. The term "First World War" was first used in September 1914 by the German biologist and philosopher Ernst Haeckel, who claimed that "there is no doubt that the course and character of the feared 'European War' ... will become the first world war in the full sense of the word," citing a wire service report in The Indianapolis Star on 20 September 1914. | Those who heard this, attempted to make sure to change what would happen. Having no context, they believed that Germany would try to end what it had started. The Allies decided too make sure that Germany would never start another war, bit in doing this, they sowed the seeds of the next world war. | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | I had come to the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month of 1918 to hear the guns fall silent. I had ended up with a British unit on the western front and was trying to blend in as a journalist reporting on the armistice.
I was reporting on it, but it was for the 500th anniversary. Everyone in the history department had worked so hard to get access to the machine and for it to be a representative from the University of Michigan to be sent back and be able to 'remember the day' for the whole world.
A few last guns fire in the distance, rifles, machine guns, and one lone piece of artillery. As the hour approaches they slow until at 11:00am silence falls. But there are no sounds of wildlife. The soldiers around begin to cheer, they now can believe that they will be going home.
Moving away from the crowd of enlisted I found myself next to a British officer as I said out loud to myself, "So that's the end of World War I."
The reality of what I had said quickly changed my solemn demeanor to fear of what the lieutenant colonel who clearly heard me would do with that information. He said to me, "[Indeed, I shouldn't be surprised if we had a second world war before too long.] (http://qi.com/infocloud/the-first-world-war)" | Those who heard this, attempted to make sure to change what would happen. Having no context, they believed that Germany would try to end what it had started. The Allies decided too make sure that Germany would never start another war, bit in doing this, they sowed the seeds of the next world war. | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | "World War One was a doozy!"
"What do you mean? The Great War is the last of its kind by the grace of God."
"Oh, you think that now, but I am here to warn of World War 4, if mankind doesn't unite under one banner then the creatures from beyond will surely win."
*Shows the crowd a picture from the game Resistance*
"I call on all world leaders and powers to put aside petty desires and think of the future. If we are to survive the coming war, we must be as one people and one voice."
70 years later, no invasion happened, but every major conflict of the 1900's after World War One was avoided due to fear of an outside enemy. The time traveler died in a bar fight in 1933. | Those who heard this, attempted to make sure to change what would happen. Having no context, they believed that Germany would try to end what it had started. The Allies decided too make sure that Germany would never start another war, bit in doing this, they sowed the seeds of the next world war. | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | "World War One was a doozy!"
"What do you mean? The Great War is the last of its kind by the grace of God."
"Oh, you think that now, but I am here to warn of World War 4, if mankind doesn't unite under one banner then the creatures from beyond will surely win."
*Shows the crowd a picture from the game Resistance*
"I call on all world leaders and powers to put aside petty desires and think of the future. If we are to survive the coming war, we must be as one people and one voice."
70 years later, no invasion happened, but every major conflict of the 1900's after World War One was avoided due to fear of an outside enemy. The time traveler died in a bar fight in 1933. | "World war one?" Some one asked
I sighed at my faux pax and turned to them
"Wow you guys must be rather optimistic that another global scale war could never happen again...i mean humanity has built itself up with war" i said with a sigh
"But surely no one would be dumb enough to try and start another global conflict." They replied
"Ever heard of the hundred years war? War of 1812? Any battle the romans fought, like i said this race has built itself up on war, it wouldnt surprise me an ounce if another one happens in this century" i ranted on
"Look, buddy if it does ill track you down and buy us both a rather expensive lunch, but you might want to check yourself into an asylum" they said before walking away | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | I was sent back in time, but I couldn't really figure out where I was. Snow was falling from the sky and I could feel the windchill in my bones. A blizzard was brewing up. Stumbling through the streets, my first mission was to figure out what year I was sent back to. A young chap walking in my direction looked at me in shock. I didn't have coat on after all.
"Excuse me, excuse me." I attempted to slow down the young man. "Would you know what day it is?" Shivering from the deadly chill I tried not to mumble.
I knew something was off when I asked him that question, but I couldn't pinpoint what it was. The effects of time travel and the cold left me too disoriented.
"This is Wednesday." he responded. "Are you alright sir?"
Only then did I realize that I was speaking to him in German. I never learned German. Is this another side effect of time travel? I thought to myself.
"I'm sorry, but do you know the date?" I asked. Slowly jumping in the same spot trying to keep myself warm with what energy I had left.
He quickly took of his coat and wrapped it around my shoulders. "Sir, you shouldn't be out in this cold. Come with me, I live on the next block."
It's not like I had a choice. It was too cold to be out in this blizzard and I would surely die if I stayed out.
We made our way in, but I was still shivering. He quickly put a kettle on the stove to heat up some water and disappeared into another room for mere 20 seconds. He returned with a blanket in his hand.
"Here sir, I'm heating up some water so you can have some hot tea to warm yourself up. In the meantime wrap yourself in the blanket, it would help."
I took the soft wool blanket and like a silkworm wrapped the blanket around myself.
"Would you know what date it is?" I asked the young man again.
This time he responded. "Its December 15th, 1918. Did something happen to you sir? We should tell the police if somebody robbed you."
"No, No." I said. "So World War One Ended already. That's good. And the second hasn't started yet." As soon as the words left my mouth I realized my grave mistake.
The young chap in shock stumbled back and fell into a chair.
"What do you mean World War One?" He asked.
The kettle began to whistle on the stove, water bubbling like a geyser, began to boil out of the kettle.
I said to him "The water is boiling. You might want to turn that off."
He sat there looking at me not hearing my words. It took him about twenty seconds to collect himself before he went to turn the kettle off.
He made some tea and took out some food from the fridge and set it at the table. Without speaking a word he sat right next to me and poured both of us a cup.
"Thank you for your hospitality." I said, wrapping the hot cup of tea with my hands. "Not many people would invite a stranger into their home at this late hour."
Taking a slow sip from the cup was like taking a sip straight from the kettle. The tea was boiling hot, but as soon as it hit my throat I felt a warm sensation throughout my body.
"So what's your name sir? And why were you out there in the cold?" he asked me.
"Well you see, my name is Leon," I said to him trying to stall the conversation "It was my best friend's birthday yesterday and we might have had too much to drink."
He looked at me without blinking, staring through my soul. I knew he didn't believe me and all because of my stupid remark earlier.
To be courteous I asked him back "How about yourself?"
He took a drink from the boiling hot cup like he was drinking lukewarm water.
A chill went down my spine as he placed his cup on the table.
He responded "My name is Adolf, sir."
| "There's going to be another?"
Oh shit what did I say. The words 'world war one' should not be uttered at this point in time. I'm definitely gonna lose my license when I get back to my own time. Quick, think of a response!
"What are you talking about? There's gonna be another what?"
"World war! You just said World War One, this implies another war is coming. Is this true?"
"... I can't tell you anything about the future, I explained this to you!"
I hope reinforcing rules will work. It usually does.
"Okay... I'm not gonna ask for details, but. When this war is over, if it's going to be over, can I then live my life without fear. Please, I need this answer to be honest."
" No. You are not gonna live without fear."
"I KNEW IT! There are going to be more world wars, I need to contact the coman-"
I cut him off. I can't have him leak information. So I try my best to be intimidating.
"I swear, if you go and contact the commander, or any other living being to tell them about me, or anything I've told you, you won't get to see the light of day again." | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | We had managed to find an empty room somewhere and commandeered a desk and two chairs. Outside was chaos, men scurrying to and fro in preparation for the Great Offensive that would finally bring The Enemy to his knees. In here, it was quiet as the tombs of millions.
I looked at the Lieutenant-Colonel, his face stony as the Cliffs of Dover, all hard and white and slowly crumbling as battle after battle breaks upon it. Great boulders shifted when he frowned in thought, and when his chalky lips parted they issued a voice much different from the one he used among his men.
"They simply call it 'The War', you know. *Their* war. Everyone involved is too busy just keeping their heads down. Those who kept theirs in the clouds and had a chance of seeing the bigger picture got them shot clean off a long time ago."
I nodded, remembering a story I had once read about a young boy and a bird. "Please go on, sir."
"They might call it the *Great* War, when it's done and there's time to think, but we already used that one for Napoleon."
"The *German* War, perhaps? In a way it's their first."
The man scoffed so hard that I could almost see tiny pebbles sliding down his face to join the scree of his chin. "Wouldn't the Kaiser be pleased at that! No, Major, that won't do. It would be seen as giving credit to the Hun."
We lapsed into a thoughtful silence then, our eyes settling on the surface of the desk between us. Idly I traced its grain with my eyes, noting its salients and re-entrants. A large knot indicated a fortress in the southwest of this oaken kingdom.
"A *World* War." I felt an eyebrow raise involuntarily. Believing it to be confusion, the man continued. "Think about it. All of Europe is a battlefield. Britain with all her colonies, France, Russia, and now you Americans united against the Hun and the Turk. All the globe is aflame. How else to describe such a thing? It is The World War, surpassing all others in scope."
I allowed myself a thin smile. Yes, this is right. The World War. More right than he even knew. Millions dead, but not long before they are joined by many millions more. World War *One*.
There were now two large caves in the rock face before me, eyes widened in surprise. Three now, as the Lieutenant-Colonel's mouth began to gape. Slowly the realization crept in that I had spoken that last phrase aloud.
*Shit!*
The gears were nearly audible as they turned in the Englishman's head, and I knew I had to think quckly. World War One implied World War Two, which raised the uncomfortable question of "What does America know that Britain doesn't?" From there it isn't far to "What is America planning?" *Shit!*
"It's a warning." My lips had moved almost on their own. Thoughts belatedly arrived. "There are groups of people, I'm sure you've seen them. Those who have another name for this conflict: The War To End All Wars."
"Yes, the Millennials."
"They're wrong, of course. There will be no 'thousand years of peace.' But many believe them, believe that no enemy would dare repeat the horrors of today. We can't allow such complacency. It would be our undoing."
"And World War One..?"
"A reminder that what happens once can happen again. There *will* be a World War Two. Someday."
"Someday. Let us hope it is a long day off."
I nodded. Twenty years is a long time, and yet so terribly short. I had hoped to continue my work over the interim period, follow the threads of history as they tie themselves into the knots of the true World War, but I was getting sloppy. *Complacent*. There could be no mistakes between now and D-day, no matter how small. With a small sigh of regret, I scratched at the comm circuit implanted behind my ear and subvocalized my instructions. The reply came immediately. A replacement would be sent, and arrangements would be made for my departure in two subjective years. Just enough time to finish my report on the end of World War: Act 1.
------------------
Inspired by [this comment](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/7iubwq/wp_you_are_a_time_traveler_in_1918_and_you_just/dr1uwmz/) explaining how the term "World War One" actually came to be. | "There's going to be another?"
Oh shit what did I say. The words 'world war one' should not be uttered at this point in time. I'm definitely gonna lose my license when I get back to my own time. Quick, think of a response!
"What are you talking about? There's gonna be another what?"
"World war! You just said World War One, this implies another war is coming. Is this true?"
"... I can't tell you anything about the future, I explained this to you!"
I hope reinforcing rules will work. It usually does.
"Okay... I'm not gonna ask for details, but. When this war is over, if it's going to be over, can I then live my life without fear. Please, I need this answer to be honest."
" No. You are not gonna live without fear."
"I KNEW IT! There are going to be more world wars, I need to contact the coman-"
I cut him off. I can't have him leak information. So I try my best to be intimidating.
"I swear, if you go and contact the commander, or any other living being to tell them about me, or anything I've told you, you won't get to see the light of day again." | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | Silence filled the room. Finally, the general spoke. “World war one?” he said, softly. “Son, your history books are so, so wrong; but then I don’t blame your grandparents for covering up the truth.... this is world war six”. | "There's going to be another?"
Oh shit what did I say. The words 'world war one' should not be uttered at this point in time. I'm definitely gonna lose my license when I get back to my own time. Quick, think of a response!
"What are you talking about? There's gonna be another what?"
"World war! You just said World War One, this implies another war is coming. Is this true?"
"... I can't tell you anything about the future, I explained this to you!"
I hope reinforcing rules will work. It usually does.
"Okay... I'm not gonna ask for details, but. When this war is over, if it's going to be over, can I then live my life without fear. Please, I need this answer to be honest."
" No. You are not gonna live without fear."
"I KNEW IT! There are going to be more world wars, I need to contact the coman-"
I cut him off. I can't have him leak information. So I try my best to be intimidating.
"I swear, if you go and contact the commander, or any other living being to tell them about me, or anything I've told you, you won't get to see the light of day again." | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | "World war one?"
A short soldier, likely much younger than he claimed to be, was looking up at his older comrade. His pure blue eyes were filled with concern. The older solider paused for a moment, deep in thought. He wondered if he should tell him of the future he lived, after all, he had already explained where he came from. Their little secret.
"It's a long story" he replied, trying to dismiss the question.
The kid wasn't going to take that kind of answer. He may have been young, but he was far from stupid. "What happened in the future? Is that why you came back? To stop another war? Did we lose?" he asked in much more of a demanding tone.
Knowing that he would not back down, the older soldier sighed, and sat down in a worn down chair. After a moment had passed he finally spoke. "Yes, we lost! While I was wounded too! I couldn't accept it! Our enemies took everything from us! Our proud people! After some time, we fought back though. I wanted vengeance. I wanted justice. That didn't happen." His words were filled with passion, both with pride and hatred. He straightened his German uniform.
"So that's why you came back... But with you here we can prevent that future?"
The older solider stood up with such an inspirational aura, that it alone, could bring hope to those around him. "Yes, we will strike them down this time. I don't intend on repeating history again."
The young soldier was bursting with questions, and filled with inspiration. Such a marvellous man, he just had to know his real name. "You said before that you're using a fake name. What is your real name?"
The older solider liked this kid, and decided he would tell him on one condition. "Don't. Tell. Anyone." He smiled and ruffled the kids hair. "My real name is Adolf Hitler."
(Probably not very good but I had the idea and wanted to put it out there) | "There's going to be another?"
Oh shit what did I say. The words 'world war one' should not be uttered at this point in time. I'm definitely gonna lose my license when I get back to my own time. Quick, think of a response!
"What are you talking about? There's gonna be another what?"
"World war! You just said World War One, this implies another war is coming. Is this true?"
"... I can't tell you anything about the future, I explained this to you!"
I hope reinforcing rules will work. It usually does.
"Okay... I'm not gonna ask for details, but. When this war is over, if it's going to be over, can I then live my life without fear. Please, I need this answer to be honest."
" No. You are not gonna live without fear."
"I KNEW IT! There are going to be more world wars, I need to contact the coman-"
I cut him off. I can't have him leak information. So I try my best to be intimidating.
"I swear, if you go and contact the commander, or any other living being to tell them about me, or anything I've told you, you won't get to see the light of day again." | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | I was sent back in time, but I couldn't really figure out where I was. Snow was falling from the sky and I could feel the windchill in my bones. A blizzard was brewing up. Stumbling through the streets, my first mission was to figure out what year I was sent back to. A young chap walking in my direction looked at me in shock. I didn't have coat on after all.
"Excuse me, excuse me." I attempted to slow down the young man. "Would you know what day it is?" Shivering from the deadly chill I tried not to mumble.
I knew something was off when I asked him that question, but I couldn't pinpoint what it was. The effects of time travel and the cold left me too disoriented.
"This is Wednesday." he responded. "Are you alright sir?"
Only then did I realize that I was speaking to him in German. I never learned German. Is this another side effect of time travel? I thought to myself.
"I'm sorry, but do you know the date?" I asked. Slowly jumping in the same spot trying to keep myself warm with what energy I had left.
He quickly took of his coat and wrapped it around my shoulders. "Sir, you shouldn't be out in this cold. Come with me, I live on the next block."
It's not like I had a choice. It was too cold to be out in this blizzard and I would surely die if I stayed out.
We made our way in, but I was still shivering. He quickly put a kettle on the stove to heat up some water and disappeared into another room for mere 20 seconds. He returned with a blanket in his hand.
"Here sir, I'm heating up some water so you can have some hot tea to warm yourself up. In the meantime wrap yourself in the blanket, it would help."
I took the soft wool blanket and like a silkworm wrapped the blanket around myself.
"Would you know what date it is?" I asked the young man again.
This time he responded. "Its December 15th, 1918. Did something happen to you sir? We should tell the police if somebody robbed you."
"No, No." I said. "So World War One Ended already. That's good. And the second hasn't started yet." As soon as the words left my mouth I realized my grave mistake.
The young chap in shock stumbled back and fell into a chair.
"What do you mean World War One?" He asked.
The kettle began to whistle on the stove, water bubbling like a geyser, began to boil out of the kettle.
I said to him "The water is boiling. You might want to turn that off."
He sat there looking at me not hearing my words. It took him about twenty seconds to collect himself before he went to turn the kettle off.
He made some tea and took out some food from the fridge and set it at the table. Without speaking a word he sat right next to me and poured both of us a cup.
"Thank you for your hospitality." I said, wrapping the hot cup of tea with my hands. "Not many people would invite a stranger into their home at this late hour."
Taking a slow sip from the cup was like taking a sip straight from the kettle. The tea was boiling hot, but as soon as it hit my throat I felt a warm sensation throughout my body.
"So what's your name sir? And why were you out there in the cold?" he asked me.
"Well you see, my name is Leon," I said to him trying to stall the conversation "It was my best friend's birthday yesterday and we might have had too much to drink."
He looked at me without blinking, staring through my soul. I knew he didn't believe me and all because of my stupid remark earlier.
To be courteous I asked him back "How about yourself?"
He took a drink from the boiling hot cup like he was drinking lukewarm water.
A chill went down my spine as he placed his cup on the table.
He responded "My name is Adolf, sir."
| Silence hit the table I was at. Alone in 1918, I sat at a table in Chinatown, San Fransisco, across from a well dressed banker and a surprisingly well dressed butcher. The brothers had tea with each other weekly, and after working for the butcher for a few months, I had been invited along
And then suddenly... laughter. The brothers let out a roar of laughter each, rocking the tea off our table, and across the floor "Oh, a world war?! Theres no way that could ever happen!" The banker said, reaching a lanky arm across the table to pat my shoulder "What, would South America be fighting Africa, Asia and Australia, and us with the Europeans? Or are you saying Antartica will rise and fight us for domination?" He added, and as his fatter brother wiped tears from his eyes
"Ah, it was just a joke. From home... Whenever things seem to good, we joke that the World will have a war across all of it... He he." I said, sweating as I could have just ruined history | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | Silence filled the room. Finally, the general spoke. “World war one?” he said, softly. “Son, your history books are so, so wrong; but then I don’t blame your grandparents for covering up the truth.... this is world war six”. | Silence hit the table I was at. Alone in 1918, I sat at a table in Chinatown, San Fransisco, across from a well dressed banker and a surprisingly well dressed butcher. The brothers had tea with each other weekly, and after working for the butcher for a few months, I had been invited along
And then suddenly... laughter. The brothers let out a roar of laughter each, rocking the tea off our table, and across the floor "Oh, a world war?! Theres no way that could ever happen!" The banker said, reaching a lanky arm across the table to pat my shoulder "What, would South America be fighting Africa, Asia and Australia, and us with the Europeans? Or are you saying Antartica will rise and fight us for domination?" He added, and as his fatter brother wiped tears from his eyes
"Ah, it was just a joke. From home... Whenever things seem to good, we joke that the World will have a war across all of it... He he." I said, sweating as I could have just ruined history | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | I was sent back in time, but I couldn't really figure out where I was. Snow was falling from the sky and I could feel the windchill in my bones. A blizzard was brewing up. Stumbling through the streets, my first mission was to figure out what year I was sent back to. A young chap walking in my direction looked at me in shock. I didn't have coat on after all.
"Excuse me, excuse me." I attempted to slow down the young man. "Would you know what day it is?" Shivering from the deadly chill I tried not to mumble.
I knew something was off when I asked him that question, but I couldn't pinpoint what it was. The effects of time travel and the cold left me too disoriented.
"This is Wednesday." he responded. "Are you alright sir?"
Only then did I realize that I was speaking to him in German. I never learned German. Is this another side effect of time travel? I thought to myself.
"I'm sorry, but do you know the date?" I asked. Slowly jumping in the same spot trying to keep myself warm with what energy I had left.
He quickly took of his coat and wrapped it around my shoulders. "Sir, you shouldn't be out in this cold. Come with me, I live on the next block."
It's not like I had a choice. It was too cold to be out in this blizzard and I would surely die if I stayed out.
We made our way in, but I was still shivering. He quickly put a kettle on the stove to heat up some water and disappeared into another room for mere 20 seconds. He returned with a blanket in his hand.
"Here sir, I'm heating up some water so you can have some hot tea to warm yourself up. In the meantime wrap yourself in the blanket, it would help."
I took the soft wool blanket and like a silkworm wrapped the blanket around myself.
"Would you know what date it is?" I asked the young man again.
This time he responded. "Its December 15th, 1918. Did something happen to you sir? We should tell the police if somebody robbed you."
"No, No." I said. "So World War One Ended already. That's good. And the second hasn't started yet." As soon as the words left my mouth I realized my grave mistake.
The young chap in shock stumbled back and fell into a chair.
"What do you mean World War One?" He asked.
The kettle began to whistle on the stove, water bubbling like a geyser, began to boil out of the kettle.
I said to him "The water is boiling. You might want to turn that off."
He sat there looking at me not hearing my words. It took him about twenty seconds to collect himself before he went to turn the kettle off.
He made some tea and took out some food from the fridge and set it at the table. Without speaking a word he sat right next to me and poured both of us a cup.
"Thank you for your hospitality." I said, wrapping the hot cup of tea with my hands. "Not many people would invite a stranger into their home at this late hour."
Taking a slow sip from the cup was like taking a sip straight from the kettle. The tea was boiling hot, but as soon as it hit my throat I felt a warm sensation throughout my body.
"So what's your name sir? And why were you out there in the cold?" he asked me.
"Well you see, my name is Leon," I said to him trying to stall the conversation "It was my best friend's birthday yesterday and we might have had too much to drink."
He looked at me without blinking, staring through my soul. I knew he didn't believe me and all because of my stupid remark earlier.
To be courteous I asked him back "How about yourself?"
He took a drink from the boiling hot cup like he was drinking lukewarm water.
A chill went down my spine as he placed his cup on the table.
He responded "My name is Adolf, sir."
| Not a story but the term world war one (or first world war) was actually first used in 1918. It appeared as the title for Lieutenant Colonel Charles à Court Repington's war memoirs. The memoir was published in 1920, but he had noted his discussion on the term with a Major Johnstone of Harvard University in a diary entry of his in 1918. So I mean it would seem rather strange to be using that term but not too out of the ordinary. | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | We had managed to find an empty room somewhere and commandeered a desk and two chairs. Outside was chaos, men scurrying to and fro in preparation for the Great Offensive that would finally bring The Enemy to his knees. In here, it was quiet as the tombs of millions.
I looked at the Lieutenant-Colonel, his face stony as the Cliffs of Dover, all hard and white and slowly crumbling as battle after battle breaks upon it. Great boulders shifted when he frowned in thought, and when his chalky lips parted they issued a voice much different from the one he used among his men.
"They simply call it 'The War', you know. *Their* war. Everyone involved is too busy just keeping their heads down. Those who kept theirs in the clouds and had a chance of seeing the bigger picture got them shot clean off a long time ago."
I nodded, remembering a story I had once read about a young boy and a bird. "Please go on, sir."
"They might call it the *Great* War, when it's done and there's time to think, but we already used that one for Napoleon."
"The *German* War, perhaps? In a way it's their first."
The man scoffed so hard that I could almost see tiny pebbles sliding down his face to join the scree of his chin. "Wouldn't the Kaiser be pleased at that! No, Major, that won't do. It would be seen as giving credit to the Hun."
We lapsed into a thoughtful silence then, our eyes settling on the surface of the desk between us. Idly I traced its grain with my eyes, noting its salients and re-entrants. A large knot indicated a fortress in the southwest of this oaken kingdom.
"A *World* War." I felt an eyebrow raise involuntarily. Believing it to be confusion, the man continued. "Think about it. All of Europe is a battlefield. Britain with all her colonies, France, Russia, and now you Americans united against the Hun and the Turk. All the globe is aflame. How else to describe such a thing? It is The World War, surpassing all others in scope."
I allowed myself a thin smile. Yes, this is right. The World War. More right than he even knew. Millions dead, but not long before they are joined by many millions more. World War *One*.
There were now two large caves in the rock face before me, eyes widened in surprise. Three now, as the Lieutenant-Colonel's mouth began to gape. Slowly the realization crept in that I had spoken that last phrase aloud.
*Shit!*
The gears were nearly audible as they turned in the Englishman's head, and I knew I had to think quckly. World War One implied World War Two, which raised the uncomfortable question of "What does America know that Britain doesn't?" From there it isn't far to "What is America planning?" *Shit!*
"It's a warning." My lips had moved almost on their own. Thoughts belatedly arrived. "There are groups of people, I'm sure you've seen them. Those who have another name for this conflict: The War To End All Wars."
"Yes, the Millennials."
"They're wrong, of course. There will be no 'thousand years of peace.' But many believe them, believe that no enemy would dare repeat the horrors of today. We can't allow such complacency. It would be our undoing."
"And World War One..?"
"A reminder that what happens once can happen again. There *will* be a World War Two. Someday."
"Someday. Let us hope it is a long day off."
I nodded. Twenty years is a long time, and yet so terribly short. I had hoped to continue my work over the interim period, follow the threads of history as they tie themselves into the knots of the true World War, but I was getting sloppy. *Complacent*. There could be no mistakes between now and D-day, no matter how small. With a small sigh of regret, I scratched at the comm circuit implanted behind my ear and subvocalized my instructions. The reply came immediately. A replacement would be sent, and arrangements would be made for my departure in two subjective years. Just enough time to finish my report on the end of World War: Act 1.
------------------
Inspired by [this comment](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/7iubwq/wp_you_are_a_time_traveler_in_1918_and_you_just/dr1uwmz/) explaining how the term "World War One" actually came to be. | Not a story but the term world war one (or first world war) was actually first used in 1918. It appeared as the title for Lieutenant Colonel Charles à Court Repington's war memoirs. The memoir was published in 1920, but he had noted his discussion on the term with a Major Johnstone of Harvard University in a diary entry of his in 1918. So I mean it would seem rather strange to be using that term but not too out of the ordinary. | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | Silence filled the room. Finally, the general spoke. “World war one?” he said, softly. “Son, your history books are so, so wrong; but then I don’t blame your grandparents for covering up the truth.... this is world war six”. | Not a story but the term world war one (or first world war) was actually first used in 1918. It appeared as the title for Lieutenant Colonel Charles à Court Repington's war memoirs. The memoir was published in 1920, but he had noted his discussion on the term with a Major Johnstone of Harvard University in a diary entry of his in 1918. So I mean it would seem rather strange to be using that term but not too out of the ordinary. | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | "World war one?"
A short soldier, likely much younger than he claimed to be, was looking up at his older comrade. His pure blue eyes were filled with concern. The older solider paused for a moment, deep in thought. He wondered if he should tell him of the future he lived, after all, he had already explained where he came from. Their little secret.
"It's a long story" he replied, trying to dismiss the question.
The kid wasn't going to take that kind of answer. He may have been young, but he was far from stupid. "What happened in the future? Is that why you came back? To stop another war? Did we lose?" he asked in much more of a demanding tone.
Knowing that he would not back down, the older soldier sighed, and sat down in a worn down chair. After a moment had passed he finally spoke. "Yes, we lost! While I was wounded too! I couldn't accept it! Our enemies took everything from us! Our proud people! After some time, we fought back though. I wanted vengeance. I wanted justice. That didn't happen." His words were filled with passion, both with pride and hatred. He straightened his German uniform.
"So that's why you came back... But with you here we can prevent that future?"
The older solider stood up with such an inspirational aura, that it alone, could bring hope to those around him. "Yes, we will strike them down this time. I don't intend on repeating history again."
The young soldier was bursting with questions, and filled with inspiration. Such a marvellous man, he just had to know his real name. "You said before that you're using a fake name. What is your real name?"
The older solider liked this kid, and decided he would tell him on one condition. "Don't. Tell. Anyone." He smiled and ruffled the kids hair. "My real name is Adolf Hitler."
(Probably not very good but I had the idea and wanted to put it out there) | Not a story but the term world war one (or first world war) was actually first used in 1918. It appeared as the title for Lieutenant Colonel Charles à Court Repington's war memoirs. The memoir was published in 1920, but he had noted his discussion on the term with a Major Johnstone of Harvard University in a diary entry of his in 1918. So I mean it would seem rather strange to be using that term but not too out of the ordinary. | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | I was sent back in time, but I couldn't really figure out where I was. Snow was falling from the sky and I could feel the windchill in my bones. A blizzard was brewing up. Stumbling through the streets, my first mission was to figure out what year I was sent back to. A young chap walking in my direction looked at me in shock. I didn't have coat on after all.
"Excuse me, excuse me." I attempted to slow down the young man. "Would you know what day it is?" Shivering from the deadly chill I tried not to mumble.
I knew something was off when I asked him that question, but I couldn't pinpoint what it was. The effects of time travel and the cold left me too disoriented.
"This is Wednesday." he responded. "Are you alright sir?"
Only then did I realize that I was speaking to him in German. I never learned German. Is this another side effect of time travel? I thought to myself.
"I'm sorry, but do you know the date?" I asked. Slowly jumping in the same spot trying to keep myself warm with what energy I had left.
He quickly took of his coat and wrapped it around my shoulders. "Sir, you shouldn't be out in this cold. Come with me, I live on the next block."
It's not like I had a choice. It was too cold to be out in this blizzard and I would surely die if I stayed out.
We made our way in, but I was still shivering. He quickly put a kettle on the stove to heat up some water and disappeared into another room for mere 20 seconds. He returned with a blanket in his hand.
"Here sir, I'm heating up some water so you can have some hot tea to warm yourself up. In the meantime wrap yourself in the blanket, it would help."
I took the soft wool blanket and like a silkworm wrapped the blanket around myself.
"Would you know what date it is?" I asked the young man again.
This time he responded. "Its December 15th, 1918. Did something happen to you sir? We should tell the police if somebody robbed you."
"No, No." I said. "So World War One Ended already. That's good. And the second hasn't started yet." As soon as the words left my mouth I realized my grave mistake.
The young chap in shock stumbled back and fell into a chair.
"What do you mean World War One?" He asked.
The kettle began to whistle on the stove, water bubbling like a geyser, began to boil out of the kettle.
I said to him "The water is boiling. You might want to turn that off."
He sat there looking at me not hearing my words. It took him about twenty seconds to collect himself before he went to turn the kettle off.
He made some tea and took out some food from the fridge and set it at the table. Without speaking a word he sat right next to me and poured both of us a cup.
"Thank you for your hospitality." I said, wrapping the hot cup of tea with my hands. "Not many people would invite a stranger into their home at this late hour."
Taking a slow sip from the cup was like taking a sip straight from the kettle. The tea was boiling hot, but as soon as it hit my throat I felt a warm sensation throughout my body.
"So what's your name sir? And why were you out there in the cold?" he asked me.
"Well you see, my name is Leon," I said to him trying to stall the conversation "It was my best friend's birthday yesterday and we might have had too much to drink."
He looked at me without blinking, staring through my soul. I knew he didn't believe me and all because of my stupid remark earlier.
To be courteous I asked him back "How about yourself?"
He took a drink from the boiling hot cup like he was drinking lukewarm water.
A chill went down my spine as he placed his cup on the table.
He responded "My name is Adolf, sir."
| "Excuse me did you just say 'World War One?" a passerby asked. He was a strange looking little fellow with a puffy jacket and dungarees.
"Yes." I said
"Whoa. That's heavy" He then hopped in his DeLorean and took off at an astonishing rate. I'd reckon 88 miles an hour. | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | "You know what sucks? Everything. Grenades, gas attacks, even the horses are pissed. All this shit about World War One.."
He staired right into my eyes.
"What?, he asked slowly. Definitely not sure if i was crazy or not. I starred back. Thinking about how to get out of this.
"..nce told me the world is gonna roll me, i'm not the sharpest tool in the shed."
"Ah well. You aren't. He rolled his eyes, looking back at the frontline."
I felt the relief. But i also was a little concerned. I could just hope that this guy didnt use a diary. Because i'd bet his grand grand sons would be absolutely confused about this and how to handle smash mouth further on. | "Excuse me did you just say 'World War One?" a passerby asked. He was a strange looking little fellow with a puffy jacket and dungarees.
"Yes." I said
"Whoa. That's heavy" He then hopped in his DeLorean and took off at an astonishing rate. I'd reckon 88 miles an hour. | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | We had managed to find an empty room somewhere and commandeered a desk and two chairs. Outside was chaos, men scurrying to and fro in preparation for the Great Offensive that would finally bring The Enemy to his knees. In here, it was quiet as the tombs of millions.
I looked at the Lieutenant-Colonel, his face stony as the Cliffs of Dover, all hard and white and slowly crumbling as battle after battle breaks upon it. Great boulders shifted when he frowned in thought, and when his chalky lips parted they issued a voice much different from the one he used among his men.
"They simply call it 'The War', you know. *Their* war. Everyone involved is too busy just keeping their heads down. Those who kept theirs in the clouds and had a chance of seeing the bigger picture got them shot clean off a long time ago."
I nodded, remembering a story I had once read about a young boy and a bird. "Please go on, sir."
"They might call it the *Great* War, when it's done and there's time to think, but we already used that one for Napoleon."
"The *German* War, perhaps? In a way it's their first."
The man scoffed so hard that I could almost see tiny pebbles sliding down his face to join the scree of his chin. "Wouldn't the Kaiser be pleased at that! No, Major, that won't do. It would be seen as giving credit to the Hun."
We lapsed into a thoughtful silence then, our eyes settling on the surface of the desk between us. Idly I traced its grain with my eyes, noting its salients and re-entrants. A large knot indicated a fortress in the southwest of this oaken kingdom.
"A *World* War." I felt an eyebrow raise involuntarily. Believing it to be confusion, the man continued. "Think about it. All of Europe is a battlefield. Britain with all her colonies, France, Russia, and now you Americans united against the Hun and the Turk. All the globe is aflame. How else to describe such a thing? It is The World War, surpassing all others in scope."
I allowed myself a thin smile. Yes, this is right. The World War. More right than he even knew. Millions dead, but not long before they are joined by many millions more. World War *One*.
There were now two large caves in the rock face before me, eyes widened in surprise. Three now, as the Lieutenant-Colonel's mouth began to gape. Slowly the realization crept in that I had spoken that last phrase aloud.
*Shit!*
The gears were nearly audible as they turned in the Englishman's head, and I knew I had to think quckly. World War One implied World War Two, which raised the uncomfortable question of "What does America know that Britain doesn't?" From there it isn't far to "What is America planning?" *Shit!*
"It's a warning." My lips had moved almost on their own. Thoughts belatedly arrived. "There are groups of people, I'm sure you've seen them. Those who have another name for this conflict: The War To End All Wars."
"Yes, the Millennials."
"They're wrong, of course. There will be no 'thousand years of peace.' But many believe them, believe that no enemy would dare repeat the horrors of today. We can't allow such complacency. It would be our undoing."
"And World War One..?"
"A reminder that what happens once can happen again. There *will* be a World War Two. Someday."
"Someday. Let us hope it is a long day off."
I nodded. Twenty years is a long time, and yet so terribly short. I had hoped to continue my work over the interim period, follow the threads of history as they tie themselves into the knots of the true World War, but I was getting sloppy. *Complacent*. There could be no mistakes between now and D-day, no matter how small. With a small sigh of regret, I scratched at the comm circuit implanted behind my ear and subvocalized my instructions. The reply came immediately. A replacement would be sent, and arrangements would be made for my departure in two subjective years. Just enough time to finish my report on the end of World War: Act 1.
------------------
Inspired by [this comment](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/7iubwq/wp_you_are_a_time_traveler_in_1918_and_you_just/dr1uwmz/) explaining how the term "World War One" actually came to be. | "Excuse me did you just say 'World War One?" a passerby asked. He was a strange looking little fellow with a puffy jacket and dungarees.
"Yes." I said
"Whoa. That's heavy" He then hopped in his DeLorean and took off at an astonishing rate. I'd reckon 88 miles an hour. | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | Silence filled the room. Finally, the general spoke. “World war one?” he said, softly. “Son, your history books are so, so wrong; but then I don’t blame your grandparents for covering up the truth.... this is world war six”. | "Excuse me did you just say 'World War One?" a passerby asked. He was a strange looking little fellow with a puffy jacket and dungarees.
"Yes." I said
"Whoa. That's heavy" He then hopped in his DeLorean and took off at an astonishing rate. I'd reckon 88 miles an hour. | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | "You're an officer from World War I at the south pole being pursued by an alien through frozen time. Madness was never this good." I said, a smile forming across my face.
"World War 1?" Looking at me, confused. I'm not sure why.
"Judging by the uniform, yes." I started going back to my business.
"Yes but...What do you mean..." his voice started to muffle. "One?"
"Spoilers."
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IkWxMG-JDk4 | "Excuse me did you just say 'World War One?" a passerby asked. He was a strange looking little fellow with a puffy jacket and dungarees.
"Yes." I said
"Whoa. That's heavy" He then hopped in his DeLorean and took off at an astonishing rate. I'd reckon 88 miles an hour. | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | "World war one?"
A short soldier, likely much younger than he claimed to be, was looking up at his older comrade. His pure blue eyes were filled with concern. The older solider paused for a moment, deep in thought. He wondered if he should tell him of the future he lived, after all, he had already explained where he came from. Their little secret.
"It's a long story" he replied, trying to dismiss the question.
The kid wasn't going to take that kind of answer. He may have been young, but he was far from stupid. "What happened in the future? Is that why you came back? To stop another war? Did we lose?" he asked in much more of a demanding tone.
Knowing that he would not back down, the older soldier sighed, and sat down in a worn down chair. After a moment had passed he finally spoke. "Yes, we lost! While I was wounded too! I couldn't accept it! Our enemies took everything from us! Our proud people! After some time, we fought back though. I wanted vengeance. I wanted justice. That didn't happen." His words were filled with passion, both with pride and hatred. He straightened his German uniform.
"So that's why you came back... But with you here we can prevent that future?"
The older solider stood up with such an inspirational aura, that it alone, could bring hope to those around him. "Yes, we will strike them down this time. I don't intend on repeating history again."
The young soldier was bursting with questions, and filled with inspiration. Such a marvellous man, he just had to know his real name. "You said before that you're using a fake name. What is your real name?"
The older solider liked this kid, and decided he would tell him on one condition. "Don't. Tell. Anyone." He smiled and ruffled the kids hair. "My real name is Adolf Hitler."
(Probably not very good but I had the idea and wanted to put it out there) | "Excuse me did you just say 'World War One?" a passerby asked. He was a strange looking little fellow with a puffy jacket and dungarees.
"Yes." I said
"Whoa. That's heavy" He then hopped in his DeLorean and took off at an astonishing rate. I'd reckon 88 miles an hour. | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | "Son," Amos replied, "What did you just say?"
"I'm sorry sir..." He lied, "I meant World War. *The* World War, sir."
"You said 'One', boy." Amos's stoic eyes confirmed.
"I meant as in that we 'won'." Harrison plotted, "*One.*"
They glared at each other for a moment over the whisky he'd split between us. This is exactly what he got for signing up for such an assignment. Not to watch somebody relive their golden years. Not to make sure someone isn't stealing things or trying to alter history. But to keep an eye on a distant relative, while waiting to return home. Unfortunately for him, this was his way of helping to keep the future straight. Harrison guessed this job they have for him isn't going to be as easy as he thought.
"Look..." Amos began as he sipped some whisky, careful to avoid brushing his bandaged arm.
"Harrison, is it? I may not be a rich man, or necessarily a smart one, but I know a lie when I hear one. And what you said was World War *One*. You said it like it's the first one. Not as if it's the last one. Now between me and you, I'd like you to tell me why. Why won't this be the last one?"
Harrison glanced at the candles on the dresser as they flickered in the breeze. Wind rustled the trees outside as he listened to the silence for a moment.
"Let me give you a question for my question. What makes you think this war would be the last one?"
Amos slowly took another sip, and glanced around for a moment.
"Well, so many died. So many... That'd I'd think peace would be tantamount to our survival. That of humanity, I believe. What would another war like that solve?"
"Well, if there's one thing you got right, you aren't ignorant. Not a bit." Harrison spoke, "Those are the kinds of questions people need to ask sometimes."
"I see..." Amos stopped, "So how do you know it will happen? The next one, I mean?"
"You've got to think about it," Harrison proposed, "How many people did this one displace? How many families lost?"
"...I saw your arm." Amos interrupted. "I checked on you while you were asleep, saw that bizarre marking on it. Very complicated image. I've never seen such a thing. Are you a sailor of some sort?"
"Well," Harrison explained as he finished his drink, "Not really. You got me. I owe you for patching me up. I thought I was going to die in that alley."
"Are you a foreigner?" Amos asked.
"You could say that?" Harrison said as he studied him, "Let me ask you a question now. If you could see what coming, would you want to look? Would you wish to know?"
"How would such a thing be possible?" Amos asked. Harris didn't reply but instead urged him to take another drink of his whisky.
"Well... If it were possible? I'd say yes. Although I don't know how that pertains to anything."
"In that case..." Harrison said as he outstretched across the table.
"Take my hand."
Amos stared at the gesture for a moment, as well as the bizarre watch strapped to his wrist. He'd never seen anything like it in his life, and it glowed oddly in the darkness of the room.
"What on Earth..."
"I don't have a lot of time. But if you want to see." Harrison explained, "*Uncle*; take my hand."
Amos dropped his glass, and it shattered against the floor. Hesitantly, he quietly gripped his arm in a firm handshake. "Uncle? How is that possible?"
"You never tell anyone what you see. Understand?" Harrison urged. The wind began to pick up violently, and just like that, they were gone. | "Excuse me did you just say 'World War One?" a passerby asked. He was a strange looking little fellow with a puffy jacket and dungarees.
"Yes." I said
"Whoa. That's heavy" He then hopped in his DeLorean and took off at an astonishing rate. I'd reckon 88 miles an hour. | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | "You know what sucks? Everything. Grenades, gas attacks, even the horses are pissed. All this shit about World War One.."
He staired right into my eyes.
"What?, he asked slowly. Definitely not sure if i was crazy or not. I starred back. Thinking about how to get out of this.
"..nce told me the world is gonna roll me, i'm not the sharpest tool in the shed."
"Ah well. You aren't. He rolled his eyes, looking back at the frontline."
I felt the relief. But i also was a little concerned. I could just hope that this guy didnt use a diary. Because i'd bet his grand grand sons would be absolutely confused about this and how to handle smash mouth further on. | The bar fell silent. Music comes to a halt. There's a couple of gasps, some whispers amongst the patrons. I come into a realization of what has left my mouth. How can I spin this to my favor?
"What do you mean by 'World War One'?"
I feel the sweat falling off my forehead. I take a long gulp from my drink. I look up from my glass. Eyes still glaring all around me.
"What I meant was, well, who knows if this is the first time nations will fight for dominance."
"You think there's a possibility for a second war?"
"There's always a possibility for war, my good sir."
I finish my drink and slam it down at the bar. The whispers are a bit louder.
"But then again, I'm just a drunk man at the bar."
I let out a nervous chuckle. The bartender followed with a thunderous laugh, the bar ensued with a louder roar.
"Well, excuse me sir while I leave. Thank you for the night, but I think I've had enough to drink."
"I think so as well you drunken ding bat."
I pay the good man, tip my hat to the table of ladies next to me, and I make my grand escape. I set foot in the icy, frigid December air. I let out a sigh of relief. How could I have been so careless? Never the less, I made it out.
I start to make my way back to my temporary home for the night. The snow is starting to really fall. Everything seems peaceful as it's blanketed in the white sheets of snow. I take my usual shortcut through the alley, but as soon as I do, my guts telling me something.
I hear a crunch that does not belong to me. A sudden let out of air that did not escape my lungs. As I speed my stride, it mimics me. A game of cat and mouse. Then, I fall into a pit of darkness. A menacing laugh fades with the darkness.
As I come to, I notice that I'm restraint. Looking around for any clue to give me an idea of what situation I was just put in.
"You need to be more careful with this time stuff."
A familiar voice is behind this shadow. It's too dark for me to see, but I could make out about two more. I try to wiggle free, making my hands and arms raw in the process.
"Why is he tied up like this? And was it necessary for you guys to knock him out? I'm more than sure he would have gone willingly knowing the circumstances."
She comes over to my chair, the light hits her face. She's a petite woman, her blonde hair hugging her face almost gives it a glow.
"Now I'm apart of the, well, company you bought that time machine from. We're stationed in every continent, every decade, just to make sure accidents l, like the one you had tonight, won't happen. Even as minor as the slip up of WW1 may seem, you never know."
The more I study her face, the more I recognize her. She was part of the training video that came with my machine. I cup my wrists, surveying the damage the rope had done to them.
"You'll be fine. However, another slip up and you won't be so lucky."
"What about your goons?"
"Oh, them? They're rather pleasant. I'm not going to lie though, sometimes they can get carried away."
"You're from those videos. What are you doing in this decade?"
"You can say I got a promotion."
"So I can go now?"
"Yes, but be careful. You never know what detail, no matter how small, can cause a great change for the future."
I nod to her. As my face is greeted by icy wind. I look back to the warehouse where I was detained, but it looks vacant now. As I try to find my way back, I can't shake the feeling of being watched. I have a feeling that I'm going to be watched for a while now.
Edit: Sorry guys for cutting it short earlier! Had to go to work! Thank you for taking the time out to read my post! | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | We had managed to find an empty room somewhere and commandeered a desk and two chairs. Outside was chaos, men scurrying to and fro in preparation for the Great Offensive that would finally bring The Enemy to his knees. In here, it was quiet as the tombs of millions.
I looked at the Lieutenant-Colonel, his face stony as the Cliffs of Dover, all hard and white and slowly crumbling as battle after battle breaks upon it. Great boulders shifted when he frowned in thought, and when his chalky lips parted they issued a voice much different from the one he used among his men.
"They simply call it 'The War', you know. *Their* war. Everyone involved is too busy just keeping their heads down. Those who kept theirs in the clouds and had a chance of seeing the bigger picture got them shot clean off a long time ago."
I nodded, remembering a story I had once read about a young boy and a bird. "Please go on, sir."
"They might call it the *Great* War, when it's done and there's time to think, but we already used that one for Napoleon."
"The *German* War, perhaps? In a way it's their first."
The man scoffed so hard that I could almost see tiny pebbles sliding down his face to join the scree of his chin. "Wouldn't the Kaiser be pleased at that! No, Major, that won't do. It would be seen as giving credit to the Hun."
We lapsed into a thoughtful silence then, our eyes settling on the surface of the desk between us. Idly I traced its grain with my eyes, noting its salients and re-entrants. A large knot indicated a fortress in the southwest of this oaken kingdom.
"A *World* War." I felt an eyebrow raise involuntarily. Believing it to be confusion, the man continued. "Think about it. All of Europe is a battlefield. Britain with all her colonies, France, Russia, and now you Americans united against the Hun and the Turk. All the globe is aflame. How else to describe such a thing? It is The World War, surpassing all others in scope."
I allowed myself a thin smile. Yes, this is right. The World War. More right than he even knew. Millions dead, but not long before they are joined by many millions more. World War *One*.
There were now two large caves in the rock face before me, eyes widened in surprise. Three now, as the Lieutenant-Colonel's mouth began to gape. Slowly the realization crept in that I had spoken that last phrase aloud.
*Shit!*
The gears were nearly audible as they turned in the Englishman's head, and I knew I had to think quckly. World War One implied World War Two, which raised the uncomfortable question of "What does America know that Britain doesn't?" From there it isn't far to "What is America planning?" *Shit!*
"It's a warning." My lips had moved almost on their own. Thoughts belatedly arrived. "There are groups of people, I'm sure you've seen them. Those who have another name for this conflict: The War To End All Wars."
"Yes, the Millennials."
"They're wrong, of course. There will be no 'thousand years of peace.' But many believe them, believe that no enemy would dare repeat the horrors of today. We can't allow such complacency. It would be our undoing."
"And World War One..?"
"A reminder that what happens once can happen again. There *will* be a World War Two. Someday."
"Someday. Let us hope it is a long day off."
I nodded. Twenty years is a long time, and yet so terribly short. I had hoped to continue my work over the interim period, follow the threads of history as they tie themselves into the knots of the true World War, but I was getting sloppy. *Complacent*. There could be no mistakes between now and D-day, no matter how small. With a small sigh of regret, I scratched at the comm circuit implanted behind my ear and subvocalized my instructions. The reply came immediately. A replacement would be sent, and arrangements would be made for my departure in two subjective years. Just enough time to finish my report on the end of World War: Act 1.
------------------
Inspired by [this comment](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/7iubwq/wp_you_are_a_time_traveler_in_1918_and_you_just/dr1uwmz/) explaining how the term "World War One" actually came to be. | The bar fell silent. Music comes to a halt. There's a couple of gasps, some whispers amongst the patrons. I come into a realization of what has left my mouth. How can I spin this to my favor?
"What do you mean by 'World War One'?"
I feel the sweat falling off my forehead. I take a long gulp from my drink. I look up from my glass. Eyes still glaring all around me.
"What I meant was, well, who knows if this is the first time nations will fight for dominance."
"You think there's a possibility for a second war?"
"There's always a possibility for war, my good sir."
I finish my drink and slam it down at the bar. The whispers are a bit louder.
"But then again, I'm just a drunk man at the bar."
I let out a nervous chuckle. The bartender followed with a thunderous laugh, the bar ensued with a louder roar.
"Well, excuse me sir while I leave. Thank you for the night, but I think I've had enough to drink."
"I think so as well you drunken ding bat."
I pay the good man, tip my hat to the table of ladies next to me, and I make my grand escape. I set foot in the icy, frigid December air. I let out a sigh of relief. How could I have been so careless? Never the less, I made it out.
I start to make my way back to my temporary home for the night. The snow is starting to really fall. Everything seems peaceful as it's blanketed in the white sheets of snow. I take my usual shortcut through the alley, but as soon as I do, my guts telling me something.
I hear a crunch that does not belong to me. A sudden let out of air that did not escape my lungs. As I speed my stride, it mimics me. A game of cat and mouse. Then, I fall into a pit of darkness. A menacing laugh fades with the darkness.
As I come to, I notice that I'm restraint. Looking around for any clue to give me an idea of what situation I was just put in.
"You need to be more careful with this time stuff."
A familiar voice is behind this shadow. It's too dark for me to see, but I could make out about two more. I try to wiggle free, making my hands and arms raw in the process.
"Why is he tied up like this? And was it necessary for you guys to knock him out? I'm more than sure he would have gone willingly knowing the circumstances."
She comes over to my chair, the light hits her face. She's a petite woman, her blonde hair hugging her face almost gives it a glow.
"Now I'm apart of the, well, company you bought that time machine from. We're stationed in every continent, every decade, just to make sure accidents l, like the one you had tonight, won't happen. Even as minor as the slip up of WW1 may seem, you never know."
The more I study her face, the more I recognize her. She was part of the training video that came with my machine. I cup my wrists, surveying the damage the rope had done to them.
"You'll be fine. However, another slip up and you won't be so lucky."
"What about your goons?"
"Oh, them? They're rather pleasant. I'm not going to lie though, sometimes they can get carried away."
"You're from those videos. What are you doing in this decade?"
"You can say I got a promotion."
"So I can go now?"
"Yes, but be careful. You never know what detail, no matter how small, can cause a great change for the future."
I nod to her. As my face is greeted by icy wind. I look back to the warehouse where I was detained, but it looks vacant now. As I try to find my way back, I can't shake the feeling of being watched. I have a feeling that I'm going to be watched for a while now.
Edit: Sorry guys for cutting it short earlier! Had to go to work! Thank you for taking the time out to read my post! | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | Silence filled the room. Finally, the general spoke. “World war one?” he said, softly. “Son, your history books are so, so wrong; but then I don’t blame your grandparents for covering up the truth.... this is world war six”. | The bar fell silent. Music comes to a halt. There's a couple of gasps, some whispers amongst the patrons. I come into a realization of what has left my mouth. How can I spin this to my favor?
"What do you mean by 'World War One'?"
I feel the sweat falling off my forehead. I take a long gulp from my drink. I look up from my glass. Eyes still glaring all around me.
"What I meant was, well, who knows if this is the first time nations will fight for dominance."
"You think there's a possibility for a second war?"
"There's always a possibility for war, my good sir."
I finish my drink and slam it down at the bar. The whispers are a bit louder.
"But then again, I'm just a drunk man at the bar."
I let out a nervous chuckle. The bartender followed with a thunderous laugh, the bar ensued with a louder roar.
"Well, excuse me sir while I leave. Thank you for the night, but I think I've had enough to drink."
"I think so as well you drunken ding bat."
I pay the good man, tip my hat to the table of ladies next to me, and I make my grand escape. I set foot in the icy, frigid December air. I let out a sigh of relief. How could I have been so careless? Never the less, I made it out.
I start to make my way back to my temporary home for the night. The snow is starting to really fall. Everything seems peaceful as it's blanketed in the white sheets of snow. I take my usual shortcut through the alley, but as soon as I do, my guts telling me something.
I hear a crunch that does not belong to me. A sudden let out of air that did not escape my lungs. As I speed my stride, it mimics me. A game of cat and mouse. Then, I fall into a pit of darkness. A menacing laugh fades with the darkness.
As I come to, I notice that I'm restraint. Looking around for any clue to give me an idea of what situation I was just put in.
"You need to be more careful with this time stuff."
A familiar voice is behind this shadow. It's too dark for me to see, but I could make out about two more. I try to wiggle free, making my hands and arms raw in the process.
"Why is he tied up like this? And was it necessary for you guys to knock him out? I'm more than sure he would have gone willingly knowing the circumstances."
She comes over to my chair, the light hits her face. She's a petite woman, her blonde hair hugging her face almost gives it a glow.
"Now I'm apart of the, well, company you bought that time machine from. We're stationed in every continent, every decade, just to make sure accidents l, like the one you had tonight, won't happen. Even as minor as the slip up of WW1 may seem, you never know."
The more I study her face, the more I recognize her. She was part of the training video that came with my machine. I cup my wrists, surveying the damage the rope had done to them.
"You'll be fine. However, another slip up and you won't be so lucky."
"What about your goons?"
"Oh, them? They're rather pleasant. I'm not going to lie though, sometimes they can get carried away."
"You're from those videos. What are you doing in this decade?"
"You can say I got a promotion."
"So I can go now?"
"Yes, but be careful. You never know what detail, no matter how small, can cause a great change for the future."
I nod to her. As my face is greeted by icy wind. I look back to the warehouse where I was detained, but it looks vacant now. As I try to find my way back, I can't shake the feeling of being watched. I have a feeling that I'm going to be watched for a while now.
Edit: Sorry guys for cutting it short earlier! Had to go to work! Thank you for taking the time out to read my post! | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | "You're an officer from World War I at the south pole being pursued by an alien through frozen time. Madness was never this good." I said, a smile forming across my face.
"World War 1?" Looking at me, confused. I'm not sure why.
"Judging by the uniform, yes." I started going back to my business.
"Yes but...What do you mean..." his voice started to muffle. "One?"
"Spoilers."
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IkWxMG-JDk4 | The bar fell silent. Music comes to a halt. There's a couple of gasps, some whispers amongst the patrons. I come into a realization of what has left my mouth. How can I spin this to my favor?
"What do you mean by 'World War One'?"
I feel the sweat falling off my forehead. I take a long gulp from my drink. I look up from my glass. Eyes still glaring all around me.
"What I meant was, well, who knows if this is the first time nations will fight for dominance."
"You think there's a possibility for a second war?"
"There's always a possibility for war, my good sir."
I finish my drink and slam it down at the bar. The whispers are a bit louder.
"But then again, I'm just a drunk man at the bar."
I let out a nervous chuckle. The bartender followed with a thunderous laugh, the bar ensued with a louder roar.
"Well, excuse me sir while I leave. Thank you for the night, but I think I've had enough to drink."
"I think so as well you drunken ding bat."
I pay the good man, tip my hat to the table of ladies next to me, and I make my grand escape. I set foot in the icy, frigid December air. I let out a sigh of relief. How could I have been so careless? Never the less, I made it out.
I start to make my way back to my temporary home for the night. The snow is starting to really fall. Everything seems peaceful as it's blanketed in the white sheets of snow. I take my usual shortcut through the alley, but as soon as I do, my guts telling me something.
I hear a crunch that does not belong to me. A sudden let out of air that did not escape my lungs. As I speed my stride, it mimics me. A game of cat and mouse. Then, I fall into a pit of darkness. A menacing laugh fades with the darkness.
As I come to, I notice that I'm restraint. Looking around for any clue to give me an idea of what situation I was just put in.
"You need to be more careful with this time stuff."
A familiar voice is behind this shadow. It's too dark for me to see, but I could make out about two more. I try to wiggle free, making my hands and arms raw in the process.
"Why is he tied up like this? And was it necessary for you guys to knock him out? I'm more than sure he would have gone willingly knowing the circumstances."
She comes over to my chair, the light hits her face. She's a petite woman, her blonde hair hugging her face almost gives it a glow.
"Now I'm apart of the, well, company you bought that time machine from. We're stationed in every continent, every decade, just to make sure accidents l, like the one you had tonight, won't happen. Even as minor as the slip up of WW1 may seem, you never know."
The more I study her face, the more I recognize her. She was part of the training video that came with my machine. I cup my wrists, surveying the damage the rope had done to them.
"You'll be fine. However, another slip up and you won't be so lucky."
"What about your goons?"
"Oh, them? They're rather pleasant. I'm not going to lie though, sometimes they can get carried away."
"You're from those videos. What are you doing in this decade?"
"You can say I got a promotion."
"So I can go now?"
"Yes, but be careful. You never know what detail, no matter how small, can cause a great change for the future."
I nod to her. As my face is greeted by icy wind. I look back to the warehouse where I was detained, but it looks vacant now. As I try to find my way back, I can't shake the feeling of being watched. I have a feeling that I'm going to be watched for a while now.
Edit: Sorry guys for cutting it short earlier! Had to go to work! Thank you for taking the time out to read my post! | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | "World war one?"
A short soldier, likely much younger than he claimed to be, was looking up at his older comrade. His pure blue eyes were filled with concern. The older solider paused for a moment, deep in thought. He wondered if he should tell him of the future he lived, after all, he had already explained where he came from. Their little secret.
"It's a long story" he replied, trying to dismiss the question.
The kid wasn't going to take that kind of answer. He may have been young, but he was far from stupid. "What happened in the future? Is that why you came back? To stop another war? Did we lose?" he asked in much more of a demanding tone.
Knowing that he would not back down, the older soldier sighed, and sat down in a worn down chair. After a moment had passed he finally spoke. "Yes, we lost! While I was wounded too! I couldn't accept it! Our enemies took everything from us! Our proud people! After some time, we fought back though. I wanted vengeance. I wanted justice. That didn't happen." His words were filled with passion, both with pride and hatred. He straightened his German uniform.
"So that's why you came back... But with you here we can prevent that future?"
The older solider stood up with such an inspirational aura, that it alone, could bring hope to those around him. "Yes, we will strike them down this time. I don't intend on repeating history again."
The young soldier was bursting with questions, and filled with inspiration. Such a marvellous man, he just had to know his real name. "You said before that you're using a fake name. What is your real name?"
The older solider liked this kid, and decided he would tell him on one condition. "Don't. Tell. Anyone." He smiled and ruffled the kids hair. "My real name is Adolf Hitler."
(Probably not very good but I had the idea and wanted to put it out there) | The bar fell silent. Music comes to a halt. There's a couple of gasps, some whispers amongst the patrons. I come into a realization of what has left my mouth. How can I spin this to my favor?
"What do you mean by 'World War One'?"
I feel the sweat falling off my forehead. I take a long gulp from my drink. I look up from my glass. Eyes still glaring all around me.
"What I meant was, well, who knows if this is the first time nations will fight for dominance."
"You think there's a possibility for a second war?"
"There's always a possibility for war, my good sir."
I finish my drink and slam it down at the bar. The whispers are a bit louder.
"But then again, I'm just a drunk man at the bar."
I let out a nervous chuckle. The bartender followed with a thunderous laugh, the bar ensued with a louder roar.
"Well, excuse me sir while I leave. Thank you for the night, but I think I've had enough to drink."
"I think so as well you drunken ding bat."
I pay the good man, tip my hat to the table of ladies next to me, and I make my grand escape. I set foot in the icy, frigid December air. I let out a sigh of relief. How could I have been so careless? Never the less, I made it out.
I start to make my way back to my temporary home for the night. The snow is starting to really fall. Everything seems peaceful as it's blanketed in the white sheets of snow. I take my usual shortcut through the alley, but as soon as I do, my guts telling me something.
I hear a crunch that does not belong to me. A sudden let out of air that did not escape my lungs. As I speed my stride, it mimics me. A game of cat and mouse. Then, I fall into a pit of darkness. A menacing laugh fades with the darkness.
As I come to, I notice that I'm restraint. Looking around for any clue to give me an idea of what situation I was just put in.
"You need to be more careful with this time stuff."
A familiar voice is behind this shadow. It's too dark for me to see, but I could make out about two more. I try to wiggle free, making my hands and arms raw in the process.
"Why is he tied up like this? And was it necessary for you guys to knock him out? I'm more than sure he would have gone willingly knowing the circumstances."
She comes over to my chair, the light hits her face. She's a petite woman, her blonde hair hugging her face almost gives it a glow.
"Now I'm apart of the, well, company you bought that time machine from. We're stationed in every continent, every decade, just to make sure accidents l, like the one you had tonight, won't happen. Even as minor as the slip up of WW1 may seem, you never know."
The more I study her face, the more I recognize her. She was part of the training video that came with my machine. I cup my wrists, surveying the damage the rope had done to them.
"You'll be fine. However, another slip up and you won't be so lucky."
"What about your goons?"
"Oh, them? They're rather pleasant. I'm not going to lie though, sometimes they can get carried away."
"You're from those videos. What are you doing in this decade?"
"You can say I got a promotion."
"So I can go now?"
"Yes, but be careful. You never know what detail, no matter how small, can cause a great change for the future."
I nod to her. As my face is greeted by icy wind. I look back to the warehouse where I was detained, but it looks vacant now. As I try to find my way back, I can't shake the feeling of being watched. I have a feeling that I'm going to be watched for a while now.
Edit: Sorry guys for cutting it short earlier! Had to go to work! Thank you for taking the time out to read my post! | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | Townsman: Excuse me sir, did you just say, "World War One?"
Agent Brown: I suppose I did.
Townsman: Whatever do you mean?
Brown: Just that, I think the world is going to be at war and I don't think this is going to be the only time.
Townsman: Makes perfect sense. | The bar fell silent. Music comes to a halt. There's a couple of gasps, some whispers amongst the patrons. I come into a realization of what has left my mouth. How can I spin this to my favor?
"What do you mean by 'World War One'?"
I feel the sweat falling off my forehead. I take a long gulp from my drink. I look up from my glass. Eyes still glaring all around me.
"What I meant was, well, who knows if this is the first time nations will fight for dominance."
"You think there's a possibility for a second war?"
"There's always a possibility for war, my good sir."
I finish my drink and slam it down at the bar. The whispers are a bit louder.
"But then again, I'm just a drunk man at the bar."
I let out a nervous chuckle. The bartender followed with a thunderous laugh, the bar ensued with a louder roar.
"Well, excuse me sir while I leave. Thank you for the night, but I think I've had enough to drink."
"I think so as well you drunken ding bat."
I pay the good man, tip my hat to the table of ladies next to me, and I make my grand escape. I set foot in the icy, frigid December air. I let out a sigh of relief. How could I have been so careless? Never the less, I made it out.
I start to make my way back to my temporary home for the night. The snow is starting to really fall. Everything seems peaceful as it's blanketed in the white sheets of snow. I take my usual shortcut through the alley, but as soon as I do, my guts telling me something.
I hear a crunch that does not belong to me. A sudden let out of air that did not escape my lungs. As I speed my stride, it mimics me. A game of cat and mouse. Then, I fall into a pit of darkness. A menacing laugh fades with the darkness.
As I come to, I notice that I'm restraint. Looking around for any clue to give me an idea of what situation I was just put in.
"You need to be more careful with this time stuff."
A familiar voice is behind this shadow. It's too dark for me to see, but I could make out about two more. I try to wiggle free, making my hands and arms raw in the process.
"Why is he tied up like this? And was it necessary for you guys to knock him out? I'm more than sure he would have gone willingly knowing the circumstances."
She comes over to my chair, the light hits her face. She's a petite woman, her blonde hair hugging her face almost gives it a glow.
"Now I'm apart of the, well, company you bought that time machine from. We're stationed in every continent, every decade, just to make sure accidents l, like the one you had tonight, won't happen. Even as minor as the slip up of WW1 may seem, you never know."
The more I study her face, the more I recognize her. She was part of the training video that came with my machine. I cup my wrists, surveying the damage the rope had done to them.
"You'll be fine. However, another slip up and you won't be so lucky."
"What about your goons?"
"Oh, them? They're rather pleasant. I'm not going to lie though, sometimes they can get carried away."
"You're from those videos. What are you doing in this decade?"
"You can say I got a promotion."
"So I can go now?"
"Yes, but be careful. You never know what detail, no matter how small, can cause a great change for the future."
I nod to her. As my face is greeted by icy wind. I look back to the warehouse where I was detained, but it looks vacant now. As I try to find my way back, I can't shake the feeling of being watched. I have a feeling that I'm going to be watched for a while now.
Edit: Sorry guys for cutting it short earlier! Had to go to work! Thank you for taking the time out to read my post! | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | "Son," Amos replied, "What did you just say?"
"I'm sorry sir..." He lied, "I meant World War. *The* World War, sir."
"You said 'One', boy." Amos's stoic eyes confirmed.
"I meant as in that we 'won'." Harrison plotted, "*One.*"
They glared at each other for a moment over the whisky he'd split between us. This is exactly what he got for signing up for such an assignment. Not to watch somebody relive their golden years. Not to make sure someone isn't stealing things or trying to alter history. But to keep an eye on a distant relative, while waiting to return home. Unfortunately for him, this was his way of helping to keep the future straight. Harrison guessed this job they have for him isn't going to be as easy as he thought.
"Look..." Amos began as he sipped some whisky, careful to avoid brushing his bandaged arm.
"Harrison, is it? I may not be a rich man, or necessarily a smart one, but I know a lie when I hear one. And what you said was World War *One*. You said it like it's the first one. Not as if it's the last one. Now between me and you, I'd like you to tell me why. Why won't this be the last one?"
Harrison glanced at the candles on the dresser as they flickered in the breeze. Wind rustled the trees outside as he listened to the silence for a moment.
"Let me give you a question for my question. What makes you think this war would be the last one?"
Amos slowly took another sip, and glanced around for a moment.
"Well, so many died. So many... That'd I'd think peace would be tantamount to our survival. That of humanity, I believe. What would another war like that solve?"
"Well, if there's one thing you got right, you aren't ignorant. Not a bit." Harrison spoke, "Those are the kinds of questions people need to ask sometimes."
"I see..." Amos stopped, "So how do you know it will happen? The next one, I mean?"
"You've got to think about it," Harrison proposed, "How many people did this one displace? How many families lost?"
"...I saw your arm." Amos interrupted. "I checked on you while you were asleep, saw that bizarre marking on it. Very complicated image. I've never seen such a thing. Are you a sailor of some sort?"
"Well," Harrison explained as he finished his drink, "Not really. You got me. I owe you for patching me up. I thought I was going to die in that alley."
"Are you a foreigner?" Amos asked.
"You could say that?" Harrison said as he studied him, "Let me ask you a question now. If you could see what coming, would you want to look? Would you wish to know?"
"How would such a thing be possible?" Amos asked. Harris didn't reply but instead urged him to take another drink of his whisky.
"Well... If it were possible? I'd say yes. Although I don't know how that pertains to anything."
"In that case..." Harrison said as he outstretched across the table.
"Take my hand."
Amos stared at the gesture for a moment, as well as the bizarre watch strapped to his wrist. He'd never seen anything like it in his life, and it glowed oddly in the darkness of the room.
"What on Earth..."
"I don't have a lot of time. But if you want to see." Harrison explained, "*Uncle*; take my hand."
Amos dropped his glass, and it shattered against the floor. Hesitantly, he quietly gripped his arm in a firm handshake. "Uncle? How is that possible?"
"You never tell anyone what you see. Understand?" Harrison urged. The wind began to pick up violently, and just like that, they were gone. | The bar fell silent. Music comes to a halt. There's a couple of gasps, some whispers amongst the patrons. I come into a realization of what has left my mouth. How can I spin this to my favor?
"What do you mean by 'World War One'?"
I feel the sweat falling off my forehead. I take a long gulp from my drink. I look up from my glass. Eyes still glaring all around me.
"What I meant was, well, who knows if this is the first time nations will fight for dominance."
"You think there's a possibility for a second war?"
"There's always a possibility for war, my good sir."
I finish my drink and slam it down at the bar. The whispers are a bit louder.
"But then again, I'm just a drunk man at the bar."
I let out a nervous chuckle. The bartender followed with a thunderous laugh, the bar ensued with a louder roar.
"Well, excuse me sir while I leave. Thank you for the night, but I think I've had enough to drink."
"I think so as well you drunken ding bat."
I pay the good man, tip my hat to the table of ladies next to me, and I make my grand escape. I set foot in the icy, frigid December air. I let out a sigh of relief. How could I have been so careless? Never the less, I made it out.
I start to make my way back to my temporary home for the night. The snow is starting to really fall. Everything seems peaceful as it's blanketed in the white sheets of snow. I take my usual shortcut through the alley, but as soon as I do, my guts telling me something.
I hear a crunch that does not belong to me. A sudden let out of air that did not escape my lungs. As I speed my stride, it mimics me. A game of cat and mouse. Then, I fall into a pit of darkness. A menacing laugh fades with the darkness.
As I come to, I notice that I'm restraint. Looking around for any clue to give me an idea of what situation I was just put in.
"You need to be more careful with this time stuff."
A familiar voice is behind this shadow. It's too dark for me to see, but I could make out about two more. I try to wiggle free, making my hands and arms raw in the process.
"Why is he tied up like this? And was it necessary for you guys to knock him out? I'm more than sure he would have gone willingly knowing the circumstances."
She comes over to my chair, the light hits her face. She's a petite woman, her blonde hair hugging her face almost gives it a glow.
"Now I'm apart of the, well, company you bought that time machine from. We're stationed in every continent, every decade, just to make sure accidents l, like the one you had tonight, won't happen. Even as minor as the slip up of WW1 may seem, you never know."
The more I study her face, the more I recognize her. She was part of the training video that came with my machine. I cup my wrists, surveying the damage the rope had done to them.
"You'll be fine. However, another slip up and you won't be so lucky."
"What about your goons?"
"Oh, them? They're rather pleasant. I'm not going to lie though, sometimes they can get carried away."
"You're from those videos. What are you doing in this decade?"
"You can say I got a promotion."
"So I can go now?"
"Yes, but be careful. You never know what detail, no matter how small, can cause a great change for the future."
I nod to her. As my face is greeted by icy wind. I look back to the warehouse where I was detained, but it looks vacant now. As I try to find my way back, I can't shake the feeling of being watched. I have a feeling that I'm going to be watched for a while now.
Edit: Sorry guys for cutting it short earlier! Had to go to work! Thank you for taking the time out to read my post! | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | "What did you say?"
Oh, shit. "I said, I flew biplanes against the Red Baron in that World War we won." Nailed it.
---
Thirty-two years later that kid found me again. This time he wasn't a kid, he was about forty. "You asshole, I knew you said World War One!"
"Wow. You have an incredible memory for small details." I sipped my coffee. "You got me."
"How'd you know another world war would happen? How many happen after this?"
"I don't know if there's a WWIII, but I'm not waiting around to find out. I'm a time traveler, kid. The first time I got to about this date, I hopped back to 1918 to live through the 20s, 30s, 40s, and 50s again with all the right stocks in my portfolio. I plan to do the same again, and probably die of old age in the roaring twenties."
"But you could go back and prevent the war! Both of them!"
"Look at me, kid, I'm twice your age at least. You think I've got the strength to kill Hitler? I've got the strength to have a stroke oogling flappers, that's about it."
"You maybe," they said, "but I'm no chicken-shit who lies about being a WWI flying ace. Send me back instead."
"It's not something I can do on a whim," I argued. "If I sent you back to protect Franz Ferdinand or whatever, I couldn't go back myself. I've only got one left, and I'm using it!"
"Don't be selfish," said the kid. "You've had two goes at history---now you've got to face the music. Gimme my shot to fix what you wouldn't."
I sighed, and pulled an old bronze pocket-watch from my suit. "Tune it to when you want, then press the thingie. And remember, you've only got one shot."
He took it in trembling hands and turned to run. "Say hello to the sixties for me if you make it that far, old man."
| The bar fell silent. Music comes to a halt. There's a couple of gasps, some whispers amongst the patrons. I come into a realization of what has left my mouth. How can I spin this to my favor?
"What do you mean by 'World War One'?"
I feel the sweat falling off my forehead. I take a long gulp from my drink. I look up from my glass. Eyes still glaring all around me.
"What I meant was, well, who knows if this is the first time nations will fight for dominance."
"You think there's a possibility for a second war?"
"There's always a possibility for war, my good sir."
I finish my drink and slam it down at the bar. The whispers are a bit louder.
"But then again, I'm just a drunk man at the bar."
I let out a nervous chuckle. The bartender followed with a thunderous laugh, the bar ensued with a louder roar.
"Well, excuse me sir while I leave. Thank you for the night, but I think I've had enough to drink."
"I think so as well you drunken ding bat."
I pay the good man, tip my hat to the table of ladies next to me, and I make my grand escape. I set foot in the icy, frigid December air. I let out a sigh of relief. How could I have been so careless? Never the less, I made it out.
I start to make my way back to my temporary home for the night. The snow is starting to really fall. Everything seems peaceful as it's blanketed in the white sheets of snow. I take my usual shortcut through the alley, but as soon as I do, my guts telling me something.
I hear a crunch that does not belong to me. A sudden let out of air that did not escape my lungs. As I speed my stride, it mimics me. A game of cat and mouse. Then, I fall into a pit of darkness. A menacing laugh fades with the darkness.
As I come to, I notice that I'm restraint. Looking around for any clue to give me an idea of what situation I was just put in.
"You need to be more careful with this time stuff."
A familiar voice is behind this shadow. It's too dark for me to see, but I could make out about two more. I try to wiggle free, making my hands and arms raw in the process.
"Why is he tied up like this? And was it necessary for you guys to knock him out? I'm more than sure he would have gone willingly knowing the circumstances."
She comes over to my chair, the light hits her face. She's a petite woman, her blonde hair hugging her face almost gives it a glow.
"Now I'm apart of the, well, company you bought that time machine from. We're stationed in every continent, every decade, just to make sure accidents l, like the one you had tonight, won't happen. Even as minor as the slip up of WW1 may seem, you never know."
The more I study her face, the more I recognize her. She was part of the training video that came with my machine. I cup my wrists, surveying the damage the rope had done to them.
"You'll be fine. However, another slip up and you won't be so lucky."
"What about your goons?"
"Oh, them? They're rather pleasant. I'm not going to lie though, sometimes they can get carried away."
"You're from those videos. What are you doing in this decade?"
"You can say I got a promotion."
"So I can go now?"
"Yes, but be careful. You never know what detail, no matter how small, can cause a great change for the future."
I nod to her. As my face is greeted by icy wind. I look back to the warehouse where I was detained, but it looks vacant now. As I try to find my way back, I can't shake the feeling of being watched. I have a feeling that I'm going to be watched for a while now.
Edit: Sorry guys for cutting it short earlier! Had to go to work! Thank you for taking the time out to read my post! | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | Silence filled the room. Finally, the general spoke. “World war one?” he said, softly. “Son, your history books are so, so wrong; but then I don’t blame your grandparents for covering up the truth.... this is world war six”. | I was sent back in time, but I couldn't really figure out where I was. Snow was falling from the sky and I could feel the windchill in my bones. A blizzard was brewing up. Stumbling through the streets, my first mission was to figure out what year I was sent back to. A young chap walking in my direction looked at me in shock. I didn't have coat on after all.
"Excuse me, excuse me." I attempted to slow down the young man. "Would you know what day it is?" Shivering from the deadly chill I tried not to mumble.
I knew something was off when I asked him that question, but I couldn't pinpoint what it was. The effects of time travel and the cold left me too disoriented.
"This is Wednesday." he responded. "Are you alright sir?"
Only then did I realize that I was speaking to him in German. I never learned German. Is this another side effect of time travel? I thought to myself.
"I'm sorry, but do you know the date?" I asked. Slowly jumping in the same spot trying to keep myself warm with what energy I had left.
He quickly took of his coat and wrapped it around my shoulders. "Sir, you shouldn't be out in this cold. Come with me, I live on the next block."
It's not like I had a choice. It was too cold to be out in this blizzard and I would surely die if I stayed out.
We made our way in, but I was still shivering. He quickly put a kettle on the stove to heat up some water and disappeared into another room for mere 20 seconds. He returned with a blanket in his hand.
"Here sir, I'm heating up some water so you can have some hot tea to warm yourself up. In the meantime wrap yourself in the blanket, it would help."
I took the soft wool blanket and like a silkworm wrapped the blanket around myself.
"Would you know what date it is?" I asked the young man again.
This time he responded. "Its December 15th, 1918. Did something happen to you sir? We should tell the police if somebody robbed you."
"No, No." I said. "So World War One Ended already. That's good. And the second hasn't started yet." As soon as the words left my mouth I realized my grave mistake.
The young chap in shock stumbled back and fell into a chair.
"What do you mean World War One?" He asked.
The kettle began to whistle on the stove, water bubbling like a geyser, began to boil out of the kettle.
I said to him "The water is boiling. You might want to turn that off."
He sat there looking at me not hearing my words. It took him about twenty seconds to collect himself before he went to turn the kettle off.
He made some tea and took out some food from the fridge and set it at the table. Without speaking a word he sat right next to me and poured both of us a cup.
"Thank you for your hospitality." I said, wrapping the hot cup of tea with my hands. "Not many people would invite a stranger into their home at this late hour."
Taking a slow sip from the cup was like taking a sip straight from the kettle. The tea was boiling hot, but as soon as it hit my throat I felt a warm sensation throughout my body.
"So what's your name sir? And why were you out there in the cold?" he asked me.
"Well you see, my name is Leon," I said to him trying to stall the conversation "It was my best friend's birthday yesterday and we might have had too much to drink."
He looked at me without blinking, staring through my soul. I knew he didn't believe me and all because of my stupid remark earlier.
To be courteous I asked him back "How about yourself?"
He took a drink from the boiling hot cup like he was drinking lukewarm water.
A chill went down my spine as he placed his cup on the table.
He responded "My name is Adolf, sir."
| |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | "You're an officer from World War I at the south pole being pursued by an alien through frozen time. Madness was never this good." I said, a smile forming across my face.
"World War 1?" Looking at me, confused. I'm not sure why.
"Judging by the uniform, yes." I started going back to my business.
"Yes but...What do you mean..." his voice started to muffle. "One?"
"Spoilers."
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IkWxMG-JDk4 | Doctor who much? ;)
I guess I gotta contribute now...
"You're a soldier from world war one, a cap-"
He cut me off,
"World war one! You... You mean there's going to be another one?'
He looked at me with a worried expression, not blinking staring right at me.
"Yes..." There was nothing else I could say.
"I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry"
He had a tear in his eye
"You mean all of this, all of this fighting, all of this carnage. It will be for nothing?"
His voice cracked,
"Do you know how many friends I have lost... How many men, good men I've lead to their deaths"
I looked at him
"I'm sorry" that was all I could say... | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | "World war one?"
A short soldier, likely much younger than he claimed to be, was looking up at his older comrade. His pure blue eyes were filled with concern. The older solider paused for a moment, deep in thought. He wondered if he should tell him of the future he lived, after all, he had already explained where he came from. Their little secret.
"It's a long story" he replied, trying to dismiss the question.
The kid wasn't going to take that kind of answer. He may have been young, but he was far from stupid. "What happened in the future? Is that why you came back? To stop another war? Did we lose?" he asked in much more of a demanding tone.
Knowing that he would not back down, the older soldier sighed, and sat down in a worn down chair. After a moment had passed he finally spoke. "Yes, we lost! While I was wounded too! I couldn't accept it! Our enemies took everything from us! Our proud people! After some time, we fought back though. I wanted vengeance. I wanted justice. That didn't happen." His words were filled with passion, both with pride and hatred. He straightened his German uniform.
"So that's why you came back... But with you here we can prevent that future?"
The older solider stood up with such an inspirational aura, that it alone, could bring hope to those around him. "Yes, we will strike them down this time. I don't intend on repeating history again."
The young soldier was bursting with questions, and filled with inspiration. Such a marvellous man, he just had to know his real name. "You said before that you're using a fake name. What is your real name?"
The older solider liked this kid, and decided he would tell him on one condition. "Don't. Tell. Anyone." He smiled and ruffled the kids hair. "My real name is Adolf Hitler."
(Probably not very good but I had the idea and wanted to put it out there) | Doctor who much? ;)
I guess I gotta contribute now...
"You're a soldier from world war one, a cap-"
He cut me off,
"World war one! You... You mean there's going to be another one?'
He looked at me with a worried expression, not blinking staring right at me.
"Yes..." There was nothing else I could say.
"I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry"
He had a tear in his eye
"You mean all of this, all of this fighting, all of this carnage. It will be for nothing?"
His voice cracked,
"Do you know how many friends I have lost... How many men, good men I've lead to their deaths"
I looked at him
"I'm sorry" that was all I could say... | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | "World War One?" Christopher asked with a quizzical gaze. "Why are you calling this hell that we've been dropped into World War One? It's not like it's certain something like this is going to happen again, I'd be surprised if we saw any conflict again in our lifetime after the atrocities we've been witness to."
I didn't have the heart to tell poor Christopher that whilst this war we were fighting in did matter and would change the world, it would not be the last war of this magnitude and the worst was yet to come.
I'd traveled back in time to the first great armed conflict of the 20th century to do first hand research on the archaic weaponry and tactics used by the military bodies of the past, as well as to gain an accurate record of how it affected the politics and people of the time.
I'd done all this just to write a first grade thesis on how war has evolved with the times and the negative impacts it carries and I just made one of the biggest screw ups any person who messes with time travel could make, I referred to this hell scape before me as World War One.
"Ah, just a slip of the tongue Chris, you know it just sounds right, rolls off the tongue." I answered as the enemy troops continued to fire on our position, one of the soldiers of our platoon falling down beside me as a bullet strikes into his skull "I'm sure you're right and we won't have to see, take part of, or loose friends in a conflict of this scale again"
As the firing halts on my position momentarily, I lift myself up out of the trench, readying my rifle I take careful aim and shoot at an enemy soldier who has just raised his head from their side. He falls, dead or wounded I don't know, I'm aware what I'm doing is foolish, actually taking part in this war could change events on a massive scale if I kill or even merely injure the wrong person.
I duck back down into the trench after seeing this unknown soldiers body disappear from my line of sight, those thoughts at the back of my mind, surviving being at the front.
"You think so? You think that after we teach these bastards that they should have stayed at home that we might have a chance for peace in the future?" Christopher smiles at himself with the thought before lifting himself up from the trench, only to fall back down, dead.
"I hope so Chris... I really do hope that there will be peace after this war, sometime..." I grip my rifle tightly ready to try to take down one of these bastards for Christopher, I lift my head and-
(Sorry for the bad writing and lack of knowledge, been a while since I've had a look at WW1 but writing this has got me inspired so I may go read up on my history and come back and revise this at some stage.) | Doctor who much? ;)
I guess I gotta contribute now...
"You're a soldier from world war one, a cap-"
He cut me off,
"World war one! You... You mean there's going to be another one?'
He looked at me with a worried expression, not blinking staring right at me.
"Yes..." There was nothing else I could say.
"I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry"
He had a tear in his eye
"You mean all of this, all of this fighting, all of this carnage. It will be for nothing?"
His voice cracked,
"Do you know how many friends I have lost... How many men, good men I've lead to their deaths"
I looked at him
"I'm sorry" that was all I could say... | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | Townsman: Excuse me sir, did you just say, "World War One?"
Agent Brown: I suppose I did.
Townsman: Whatever do you mean?
Brown: Just that, I think the world is going to be at war and I don't think this is going to be the only time.
Townsman: Makes perfect sense. | Doctor who much? ;)
I guess I gotta contribute now...
"You're a soldier from world war one, a cap-"
He cut me off,
"World war one! You... You mean there's going to be another one?'
He looked at me with a worried expression, not blinking staring right at me.
"Yes..." There was nothing else I could say.
"I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry"
He had a tear in his eye
"You mean all of this, all of this fighting, all of this carnage. It will be for nothing?"
His voice cracked,
"Do you know how many friends I have lost... How many men, good men I've lead to their deaths"
I looked at him
"I'm sorry" that was all I could say... | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | "Son," Amos replied, "What did you just say?"
"I'm sorry sir..." He lied, "I meant World War. *The* World War, sir."
"You said 'One', boy." Amos's stoic eyes confirmed.
"I meant as in that we 'won'." Harrison plotted, "*One.*"
They glared at each other for a moment over the whisky he'd split between us. This is exactly what he got for signing up for such an assignment. Not to watch somebody relive their golden years. Not to make sure someone isn't stealing things or trying to alter history. But to keep an eye on a distant relative, while waiting to return home. Unfortunately for him, this was his way of helping to keep the future straight. Harrison guessed this job they have for him isn't going to be as easy as he thought.
"Look..." Amos began as he sipped some whisky, careful to avoid brushing his bandaged arm.
"Harrison, is it? I may not be a rich man, or necessarily a smart one, but I know a lie when I hear one. And what you said was World War *One*. You said it like it's the first one. Not as if it's the last one. Now between me and you, I'd like you to tell me why. Why won't this be the last one?"
Harrison glanced at the candles on the dresser as they flickered in the breeze. Wind rustled the trees outside as he listened to the silence for a moment.
"Let me give you a question for my question. What makes you think this war would be the last one?"
Amos slowly took another sip, and glanced around for a moment.
"Well, so many died. So many... That'd I'd think peace would be tantamount to our survival. That of humanity, I believe. What would another war like that solve?"
"Well, if there's one thing you got right, you aren't ignorant. Not a bit." Harrison spoke, "Those are the kinds of questions people need to ask sometimes."
"I see..." Amos stopped, "So how do you know it will happen? The next one, I mean?"
"You've got to think about it," Harrison proposed, "How many people did this one displace? How many families lost?"
"...I saw your arm." Amos interrupted. "I checked on you while you were asleep, saw that bizarre marking on it. Very complicated image. I've never seen such a thing. Are you a sailor of some sort?"
"Well," Harrison explained as he finished his drink, "Not really. You got me. I owe you for patching me up. I thought I was going to die in that alley."
"Are you a foreigner?" Amos asked.
"You could say that?" Harrison said as he studied him, "Let me ask you a question now. If you could see what coming, would you want to look? Would you wish to know?"
"How would such a thing be possible?" Amos asked. Harris didn't reply but instead urged him to take another drink of his whisky.
"Well... If it were possible? I'd say yes. Although I don't know how that pertains to anything."
"In that case..." Harrison said as he outstretched across the table.
"Take my hand."
Amos stared at the gesture for a moment, as well as the bizarre watch strapped to his wrist. He'd never seen anything like it in his life, and it glowed oddly in the darkness of the room.
"What on Earth..."
"I don't have a lot of time. But if you want to see." Harrison explained, "*Uncle*; take my hand."
Amos dropped his glass, and it shattered against the floor. Hesitantly, he quietly gripped his arm in a firm handshake. "Uncle? How is that possible?"
"You never tell anyone what you see. Understand?" Harrison urged. The wind began to pick up violently, and just like that, they were gone. | Doctor who much? ;)
I guess I gotta contribute now...
"You're a soldier from world war one, a cap-"
He cut me off,
"World war one! You... You mean there's going to be another one?'
He looked at me with a worried expression, not blinking staring right at me.
"Yes..." There was nothing else I could say.
"I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry"
He had a tear in his eye
"You mean all of this, all of this fighting, all of this carnage. It will be for nothing?"
His voice cracked,
"Do you know how many friends I have lost... How many men, good men I've lead to their deaths"
I looked at him
"I'm sorry" that was all I could say... | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | It was just moments ago that Kevin and I were walking down Main Street when we were stopped and asked if we wanted to earn money by participating in a scientific experiment. Being that we are two broke college kids we agreed to do it not knowing what we were actually getting ourselves into. Once we got to the safety of what we assumed to be the laboratory, the dude who snatched us off the street explained to us that we would be testing out a new time travel device. Of course my buddy and I were stoked, but we couldn't agree on where to go. Not to worry though, the scientist assured us that it was safe to go alone and that we could each choose our own destination. So naturally Kevin wanted to entertain the child within him and asked to see the dinosaurs; but as a history major I wanted to witness my favorite time in history: WWI. Once our destinations were confirmed, the time travel scientist gave us a briefing on the DO's and DONT's of time travel and sent us on our way.
Before I knew it I was in antique clothing, except for my futuristic shoes which for some reason remained on my feet. I was on the same Main Street that Kevin and I had been on just moments ago except this time I was in the year 1918. I wandered up and down the street in awe taking it all in before deciding to check out a small corner shop. I milled about inside for a bit enjoying the antiques that weren't really antiques yet. I was deep in thought trying to decide what I wanted to bring back to the future with me when the shopkeeper approached.
"Can I help ya find sum'in?"
"No thanks, I'm just looking for some World War I memorabilia."
*shit*
"I mean er... uhm... I'm just looking for a souvenir. I'm not from here." (which wasn't a complete lie)
"Well we got some stuff over there you might like," the shopkeeper responded, thankfully oblivious to the fact that I had just called the war by a nonexistent name.
I continued my search for a "souvenir" when a girl about the same age as me approached. Something about her didn't quite scream 1918 to me. It took a moment before it hit me that she was wearing shoes from the future. The same future that I was from! I tried to hide my surprise as she opened her mouth to speak:
"So that bastard tricked you too, huh?"
I am still trying to pretend that I'm from 1918 at this point, so I act confused and ask her what she is talking about.
"The time travel scientist... he tricked you. Don't play dumb with me! I know you're not from here because you called the war World War I."
Holding my hands up in surrender I respond with a sarcastic tone of defeat, "Well ya caught me. So what's it to ya?"
"No need to be an ass, I just figured I'd do you a favor and let you know that we're trapped here before you found out on your own."
"Wha- WHAT? No way that's impossible!"
"Well did the scientist tell you how to get out of here?"
"......"
"Exactly"
My heart sinks as I comprehend what I've just been told. How could I have been so stupid? But at this point I can't even feel sorry for myself because at least I have this girl to team up with to find a way out. As for Kevin though, I just hope he knows how to talk to cavemen... | Doctor who much? ;)
I guess I gotta contribute now...
"You're a soldier from world war one, a cap-"
He cut me off,
"World war one! You... You mean there's going to be another one?'
He looked at me with a worried expression, not blinking staring right at me.
"Yes..." There was nothing else I could say.
"I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry"
He had a tear in his eye
"You mean all of this, all of this fighting, all of this carnage. It will be for nothing?"
His voice cracked,
"Do you know how many friends I have lost... How many men, good men I've lead to their deaths"
I looked at him
"I'm sorry" that was all I could say... | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | World War One. If you can think of anything at all that would be even worse to say at a time not of your own, please do not hesitate to tell me. I'd like to know that even though what I did was of orders of magnitudes of stupidity on a scale unimaginable by even the brightest minds, it was still not the worst thing anyone has ever done. I could probably use that sentence as the opening line of my autobiography, should I live to write it. I doubt anyone would take it seriously if it was a biography, in fact they'd probably consider it a work of comedic fiction.
I'm getting sidetracked.
Pin-drop silence. One of those things everybody knows but only those that have experienced the sheer level of awkwardness it brings on can truly understand. My first and only thought was "I fucked up". I say only thought because it truly did feel like it when I regained consciousness in an interrogation room. In fact, when everyone in the barracks froze and averted their gazes toward me, faces a mixture of bewilderment, horror, confusion and oddly enough, some grinning, it was one of few times where my body decided to act in accordance with my mind and decided it was best to alleviate the awkwardness with a spot of passing out.
I digress.
One bright lamp in the room, over the steel table behind which I sat facing possibly the award winner for most angry man to ever live, and behind him a two-way mirror with probably the runner-ups behind it. He was dressed in your standard moss-green military uniform, decorated to blind the person looking at it. We'd been staring at each other for awhile, his face unmoving and his eyes unblinking. I could tell he was trying to break me by winning the most intense staring contest I've ever been a part of. I tried my best not to blink and keep my composure, but his lack of other emotions and care for the game meant that I had won the staring contest before he even knew he was playing. Still, I did not waver.
That was until he pulled out a gun.
----
My first at attempt at writing anything, I literally just wrote what came to mind. There really isn't a direction, it's more of an intense story opener mixed with a little comedy. | Doctor who much? ;)
I guess I gotta contribute now...
"You're a soldier from world war one, a cap-"
He cut me off,
"World war one! You... You mean there's going to be another one?'
He looked at me with a worried expression, not blinking staring right at me.
"Yes..." There was nothing else I could say.
"I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry"
He had a tear in his eye
"You mean all of this, all of this fighting, all of this carnage. It will be for nothing?"
His voice cracked,
"Do you know how many friends I have lost... How many men, good men I've lead to their deaths"
I looked at him
"I'm sorry" that was all I could say... | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | "You do not believe this is the last world conflict we'll see?"
I paused, realizing the blunder I had just made. However, it did not change anything; I could attribute my statement to many things without raising suspicion that I was not from this *time.*
"No, I do not think this is the last world war we will see," I replied to the disheartened man.
"I hope you are wrong; I have seen the devastation and destruction of war firsthand, and I would not wish to see a new generation plunged into that darkness again."
 
The irony of what he said twisted like a knife in my stomach. I watched the man limp over to his stool and take a seat. He picked up his brush and gently began stroking red lines onto his canvas, taking extreme care with every movement of his arm. He was not great at painting, but he was also not terrible, either. *Amazing how such small failures can alter one's life so drastically,* I thought as I walked over to where the man was sitting.
I took a deep breath and raised the Beretta M9 pistol I had brought with me. It was time for me to head back, and I prayed the world I returned to would be significantly improved when I returned.
I turned the safety off and took aim. "Goodbye Adolf," I muttered as I pulled the trigger... | Doctor who much? ;)
I guess I gotta contribute now...
"You're a soldier from world war one, a cap-"
He cut me off,
"World war one! You... You mean there's going to be another one?'
He looked at me with a worried expression, not blinking staring right at me.
"Yes..." There was nothing else I could say.
"I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry"
He had a tear in his eye
"You mean all of this, all of this fighting, all of this carnage. It will be for nothing?"
His voice cracked,
"Do you know how many friends I have lost... How many men, good men I've lead to their deaths"
I looked at him
"I'm sorry" that was all I could say... | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | "What makes you think history will remember this as World War One? Why One?" a beautiful, blonde reporter replied as she seemed awestruck by my earlier mention of using the term 'World War One.'
Quickly, she rapidly fired another question at me. "Why one? Is there going to be another?" as she looked around the room before glancing back to me with her crystal clear blue eyes.
'Shit. Shit. I should've kept my mouth shut.' I thought as I looked down at the near empty beer glass in front of me.
I scowled as I stood up from the bar. I had one too many drinks "Look uh, Miss.." I tried to remember her name.
"Elizabeth!" She snapped back. I needed to wrap this up quick.
"Elizabeth." I said feigning calmly as I added "Forget I said anything. It's just the drink talking and it's getting late so I should be going."
"Booker!" She quietly called out. I had given her my fake name from a video game character called Bioshock Infinite and just happening to discover that this woman's name is also Elizabeth was a one hell of a coincidence. It couldn't be, could it?
"You didn't answer my question!" She quipped as I started to grab my coat from the chair as I turned for the front door outside the bar.
I started to walk away faster but she still followed; like any good reporter would. I had to suppress my frustration for acting so careless and dumb.
"Booker..." She whisked her coat on before she moved in front of me.
"You're a persistent little cuss aren't you." I snapped; trying to ward her off by being aggressive.
Still, she stood in front of me with her blue eyes - I felt as though she was reading into me; she could read into my soul and it felt uncomfortable.
"Answer me this. Why World War One?" She asked softly.
"You don't really want to know..." I glanced down to the ground, before I averted my gaze up towards the now fading sunset sky.
Elizabeth crossed her arms as she stayed focused on me.
"I saw you appear from out of thin air with that... trinket time device in your hand... You appeared near Big Ben tower and that was four weeks ago Booker. You're not from around here.." She admitted as I was taken aback.
"If Booker is even your name..." She quipped.
She went on "Everything about you. You look as if.. I don't know.. you know more than you let on... So I've been following you..."
"Please.." Elizabeth said as her eyes hinted a sense of concern and sadness.
I inhaled in my frustration as I shot a look at Elizabeth. It was true. I had no way of appearing if I was going to be seen or unseen when I stepped through that time portal.....
She listened quietly as I replied:
"Because there's also going to be World War Two."
| Doctor who much? ;)
I guess I gotta contribute now...
"You're a soldier from world war one, a cap-"
He cut me off,
"World war one! You... You mean there's going to be another one?'
He looked at me with a worried expression, not blinking staring right at me.
"Yes..." There was nothing else I could say.
"I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry"
He had a tear in his eye
"You mean all of this, all of this fighting, all of this carnage. It will be for nothing?"
His voice cracked,
"Do you know how many friends I have lost... How many men, good men I've lead to their deaths"
I looked at him
"I'm sorry" that was all I could say... | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | "What did you say?"
Oh, shit. "I said, I flew biplanes against the Red Baron in that World War we won." Nailed it.
---
Thirty-two years later that kid found me again. This time he wasn't a kid, he was about forty. "You asshole, I knew you said World War One!"
"Wow. You have an incredible memory for small details." I sipped my coffee. "You got me."
"How'd you know another world war would happen? How many happen after this?"
"I don't know if there's a WWIII, but I'm not waiting around to find out. I'm a time traveler, kid. The first time I got to about this date, I hopped back to 1918 to live through the 20s, 30s, 40s, and 50s again with all the right stocks in my portfolio. I plan to do the same again, and probably die of old age in the roaring twenties."
"But you could go back and prevent the war! Both of them!"
"Look at me, kid, I'm twice your age at least. You think I've got the strength to kill Hitler? I've got the strength to have a stroke oogling flappers, that's about it."
"You maybe," they said, "but I'm no chicken-shit who lies about being a WWI flying ace. Send me back instead."
"It's not something I can do on a whim," I argued. "If I sent you back to protect Franz Ferdinand or whatever, I couldn't go back myself. I've only got one left, and I'm using it!"
"Don't be selfish," said the kid. "You've had two goes at history---now you've got to face the music. Gimme my shot to fix what you wouldn't."
I sighed, and pulled an old bronze pocket-watch from my suit. "Tune it to when you want, then press the thingie. And remember, you've only got one shot."
He took it in trembling hands and turned to run. "Say hello to the sixties for me if you make it that far, old man."
| Doctor who much? ;)
I guess I gotta contribute now...
"You're a soldier from world war one, a cap-"
He cut me off,
"World war one! You... You mean there's going to be another one?'
He looked at me with a worried expression, not blinking staring right at me.
"Yes..." There was nothing else I could say.
"I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry"
He had a tear in his eye
"You mean all of this, all of this fighting, all of this carnage. It will be for nothing?"
His voice cracked,
"Do you know how many friends I have lost... How many men, good men I've lead to their deaths"
I looked at him
"I'm sorry" that was all I could say... | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | "World war one?"
A short soldier, likely much younger than he claimed to be, was looking up at his older comrade. His pure blue eyes were filled with concern. The older solider paused for a moment, deep in thought. He wondered if he should tell him of the future he lived, after all, he had already explained where he came from. Their little secret.
"It's a long story" he replied, trying to dismiss the question.
The kid wasn't going to take that kind of answer. He may have been young, but he was far from stupid. "What happened in the future? Is that why you came back? To stop another war? Did we lose?" he asked in much more of a demanding tone.
Knowing that he would not back down, the older soldier sighed, and sat down in a worn down chair. After a moment had passed he finally spoke. "Yes, we lost! While I was wounded too! I couldn't accept it! Our enemies took everything from us! Our proud people! After some time, we fought back though. I wanted vengeance. I wanted justice. That didn't happen." His words were filled with passion, both with pride and hatred. He straightened his German uniform.
"So that's why you came back... But with you here we can prevent that future?"
The older solider stood up with such an inspirational aura, that it alone, could bring hope to those around him. "Yes, we will strike them down this time. I don't intend on repeating history again."
The young soldier was bursting with questions, and filled with inspiration. Such a marvellous man, he just had to know his real name. "You said before that you're using a fake name. What is your real name?"
The older solider liked this kid, and decided he would tell him on one condition. "Don't. Tell. Anyone." He smiled and ruffled the kids hair. "My real name is Adolf Hitler."
(Probably not very good but I had the idea and wanted to put it out there) | "You know what sucks? Everything. Grenades, gas attacks, even the horses are pissed. All this shit about World War One.."
He staired right into my eyes.
"What?, he asked slowly. Definitely not sure if i was crazy or not. I starred back. Thinking about how to get out of this.
"..nce told me the world is gonna roll me, i'm not the sharpest tool in the shed."
"Ah well. You aren't. He rolled his eyes, looking back at the frontline."
I felt the relief. But i also was a little concerned. I could just hope that this guy didnt use a diary. Because i'd bet his grand grand sons would be absolutely confused about this and how to handle smash mouth further on. | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | "World war one?"
A short soldier, likely much younger than he claimed to be, was looking up at his older comrade. His pure blue eyes were filled with concern. The older solider paused for a moment, deep in thought. He wondered if he should tell him of the future he lived, after all, he had already explained where he came from. Their little secret.
"It's a long story" he replied, trying to dismiss the question.
The kid wasn't going to take that kind of answer. He may have been young, but he was far from stupid. "What happened in the future? Is that why you came back? To stop another war? Did we lose?" he asked in much more of a demanding tone.
Knowing that he would not back down, the older soldier sighed, and sat down in a worn down chair. After a moment had passed he finally spoke. "Yes, we lost! While I was wounded too! I couldn't accept it! Our enemies took everything from us! Our proud people! After some time, we fought back though. I wanted vengeance. I wanted justice. That didn't happen." His words were filled with passion, both with pride and hatred. He straightened his German uniform.
"So that's why you came back... But with you here we can prevent that future?"
The older solider stood up with such an inspirational aura, that it alone, could bring hope to those around him. "Yes, we will strike them down this time. I don't intend on repeating history again."
The young soldier was bursting with questions, and filled with inspiration. Such a marvellous man, he just had to know his real name. "You said before that you're using a fake name. What is your real name?"
The older solider liked this kid, and decided he would tell him on one condition. "Don't. Tell. Anyone." He smiled and ruffled the kids hair. "My real name is Adolf Hitler."
(Probably not very good but I had the idea and wanted to put it out there) | We had managed to find an empty room somewhere and commandeered a desk and two chairs. Outside was chaos, men scurrying to and fro in preparation for the Great Offensive that would finally bring The Enemy to his knees. In here, it was quiet as the tombs of millions.
I looked at the Lieutenant-Colonel, his face stony as the Cliffs of Dover, all hard and white and slowly crumbling as battle after battle breaks upon it. Great boulders shifted when he frowned in thought, and when his chalky lips parted they issued a voice much different from the one he used among his men.
"They simply call it 'The War', you know. *Their* war. Everyone involved is too busy just keeping their heads down. Those who kept theirs in the clouds and had a chance of seeing the bigger picture got them shot clean off a long time ago."
I nodded, remembering a story I had once read about a young boy and a bird. "Please go on, sir."
"They might call it the *Great* War, when it's done and there's time to think, but we already used that one for Napoleon."
"The *German* War, perhaps? In a way it's their first."
The man scoffed so hard that I could almost see tiny pebbles sliding down his face to join the scree of his chin. "Wouldn't the Kaiser be pleased at that! No, Major, that won't do. It would be seen as giving credit to the Hun."
We lapsed into a thoughtful silence then, our eyes settling on the surface of the desk between us. Idly I traced its grain with my eyes, noting its salients and re-entrants. A large knot indicated a fortress in the southwest of this oaken kingdom.
"A *World* War." I felt an eyebrow raise involuntarily. Believing it to be confusion, the man continued. "Think about it. All of Europe is a battlefield. Britain with all her colonies, France, Russia, and now you Americans united against the Hun and the Turk. All the globe is aflame. How else to describe such a thing? It is The World War, surpassing all others in scope."
I allowed myself a thin smile. Yes, this is right. The World War. More right than he even knew. Millions dead, but not long before they are joined by many millions more. World War *One*.
There were now two large caves in the rock face before me, eyes widened in surprise. Three now, as the Lieutenant-Colonel's mouth began to gape. Slowly the realization crept in that I had spoken that last phrase aloud.
*Shit!*
The gears were nearly audible as they turned in the Englishman's head, and I knew I had to think quckly. World War One implied World War Two, which raised the uncomfortable question of "What does America know that Britain doesn't?" From there it isn't far to "What is America planning?" *Shit!*
"It's a warning." My lips had moved almost on their own. Thoughts belatedly arrived. "There are groups of people, I'm sure you've seen them. Those who have another name for this conflict: The War To End All Wars."
"Yes, the Millennials."
"They're wrong, of course. There will be no 'thousand years of peace.' But many believe them, believe that no enemy would dare repeat the horrors of today. We can't allow such complacency. It would be our undoing."
"And World War One..?"
"A reminder that what happens once can happen again. There *will* be a World War Two. Someday."
"Someday. Let us hope it is a long day off."
I nodded. Twenty years is a long time, and yet so terribly short. I had hoped to continue my work over the interim period, follow the threads of history as they tie themselves into the knots of the true World War, but I was getting sloppy. *Complacent*. There could be no mistakes between now and D-day, no matter how small. With a small sigh of regret, I scratched at the comm circuit implanted behind my ear and subvocalized my instructions. The reply came immediately. A replacement would be sent, and arrangements would be made for my departure in two subjective years. Just enough time to finish my report on the end of World War: Act 1.
------------------
Inspired by [this comment](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/7iubwq/wp_you_are_a_time_traveler_in_1918_and_you_just/dr1uwmz/) explaining how the term "World War One" actually came to be. | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | Townsman: Excuse me sir, did you just say, "World War One?"
Agent Brown: I suppose I did.
Townsman: Whatever do you mean?
Brown: Just that, I think the world is going to be at war and I don't think this is going to be the only time.
Townsman: Makes perfect sense. | "World War One?" Christopher asked with a quizzical gaze. "Why are you calling this hell that we've been dropped into World War One? It's not like it's certain something like this is going to happen again, I'd be surprised if we saw any conflict again in our lifetime after the atrocities we've been witness to."
I didn't have the heart to tell poor Christopher that whilst this war we were fighting in did matter and would change the world, it would not be the last war of this magnitude and the worst was yet to come.
I'd traveled back in time to the first great armed conflict of the 20th century to do first hand research on the archaic weaponry and tactics used by the military bodies of the past, as well as to gain an accurate record of how it affected the politics and people of the time.
I'd done all this just to write a first grade thesis on how war has evolved with the times and the negative impacts it carries and I just made one of the biggest screw ups any person who messes with time travel could make, I referred to this hell scape before me as World War One.
"Ah, just a slip of the tongue Chris, you know it just sounds right, rolls off the tongue." I answered as the enemy troops continued to fire on our position, one of the soldiers of our platoon falling down beside me as a bullet strikes into his skull "I'm sure you're right and we won't have to see, take part of, or loose friends in a conflict of this scale again"
As the firing halts on my position momentarily, I lift myself up out of the trench, readying my rifle I take careful aim and shoot at an enemy soldier who has just raised his head from their side. He falls, dead or wounded I don't know, I'm aware what I'm doing is foolish, actually taking part in this war could change events on a massive scale if I kill or even merely injure the wrong person.
I duck back down into the trench after seeing this unknown soldiers body disappear from my line of sight, those thoughts at the back of my mind, surviving being at the front.
"You think so? You think that after we teach these bastards that they should have stayed at home that we might have a chance for peace in the future?" Christopher smiles at himself with the thought before lifting himself up from the trench, only to fall back down, dead.
"I hope so Chris... I really do hope that there will be peace after this war, sometime..." I grip my rifle tightly ready to try to take down one of these bastards for Christopher, I lift my head and-
(Sorry for the bad writing and lack of knowledge, been a while since I've had a look at WW1 but writing this has got me inspired so I may go read up on my history and come back and revise this at some stage.) | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | "Son," Amos replied, "What did you just say?"
"I'm sorry sir..." He lied, "I meant World War. *The* World War, sir."
"You said 'One', boy." Amos's stoic eyes confirmed.
"I meant as in that we 'won'." Harrison plotted, "*One.*"
They glared at each other for a moment over the whisky he'd split between us. This is exactly what he got for signing up for such an assignment. Not to watch somebody relive their golden years. Not to make sure someone isn't stealing things or trying to alter history. But to keep an eye on a distant relative, while waiting to return home. Unfortunately for him, this was his way of helping to keep the future straight. Harrison guessed this job they have for him isn't going to be as easy as he thought.
"Look..." Amos began as he sipped some whisky, careful to avoid brushing his bandaged arm.
"Harrison, is it? I may not be a rich man, or necessarily a smart one, but I know a lie when I hear one. And what you said was World War *One*. You said it like it's the first one. Not as if it's the last one. Now between me and you, I'd like you to tell me why. Why won't this be the last one?"
Harrison glanced at the candles on the dresser as they flickered in the breeze. Wind rustled the trees outside as he listened to the silence for a moment.
"Let me give you a question for my question. What makes you think this war would be the last one?"
Amos slowly took another sip, and glanced around for a moment.
"Well, so many died. So many... That'd I'd think peace would be tantamount to our survival. That of humanity, I believe. What would another war like that solve?"
"Well, if there's one thing you got right, you aren't ignorant. Not a bit." Harrison spoke, "Those are the kinds of questions people need to ask sometimes."
"I see..." Amos stopped, "So how do you know it will happen? The next one, I mean?"
"You've got to think about it," Harrison proposed, "How many people did this one displace? How many families lost?"
"...I saw your arm." Amos interrupted. "I checked on you while you were asleep, saw that bizarre marking on it. Very complicated image. I've never seen such a thing. Are you a sailor of some sort?"
"Well," Harrison explained as he finished his drink, "Not really. You got me. I owe you for patching me up. I thought I was going to die in that alley."
"Are you a foreigner?" Amos asked.
"You could say that?" Harrison said as he studied him, "Let me ask you a question now. If you could see what coming, would you want to look? Would you wish to know?"
"How would such a thing be possible?" Amos asked. Harris didn't reply but instead urged him to take another drink of his whisky.
"Well... If it were possible? I'd say yes. Although I don't know how that pertains to anything."
"In that case..." Harrison said as he outstretched across the table.
"Take my hand."
Amos stared at the gesture for a moment, as well as the bizarre watch strapped to his wrist. He'd never seen anything like it in his life, and it glowed oddly in the darkness of the room.
"What on Earth..."
"I don't have a lot of time. But if you want to see." Harrison explained, "*Uncle*; take my hand."
Amos dropped his glass, and it shattered against the floor. Hesitantly, he quietly gripped his arm in a firm handshake. "Uncle? How is that possible?"
"You never tell anyone what you see. Understand?" Harrison urged. The wind began to pick up violently, and just like that, they were gone. | "World War One?" Christopher asked with a quizzical gaze. "Why are you calling this hell that we've been dropped into World War One? It's not like it's certain something like this is going to happen again, I'd be surprised if we saw any conflict again in our lifetime after the atrocities we've been witness to."
I didn't have the heart to tell poor Christopher that whilst this war we were fighting in did matter and would change the world, it would not be the last war of this magnitude and the worst was yet to come.
I'd traveled back in time to the first great armed conflict of the 20th century to do first hand research on the archaic weaponry and tactics used by the military bodies of the past, as well as to gain an accurate record of how it affected the politics and people of the time.
I'd done all this just to write a first grade thesis on how war has evolved with the times and the negative impacts it carries and I just made one of the biggest screw ups any person who messes with time travel could make, I referred to this hell scape before me as World War One.
"Ah, just a slip of the tongue Chris, you know it just sounds right, rolls off the tongue." I answered as the enemy troops continued to fire on our position, one of the soldiers of our platoon falling down beside me as a bullet strikes into his skull "I'm sure you're right and we won't have to see, take part of, or loose friends in a conflict of this scale again"
As the firing halts on my position momentarily, I lift myself up out of the trench, readying my rifle I take careful aim and shoot at an enemy soldier who has just raised his head from their side. He falls, dead or wounded I don't know, I'm aware what I'm doing is foolish, actually taking part in this war could change events on a massive scale if I kill or even merely injure the wrong person.
I duck back down into the trench after seeing this unknown soldiers body disappear from my line of sight, those thoughts at the back of my mind, surviving being at the front.
"You think so? You think that after we teach these bastards that they should have stayed at home that we might have a chance for peace in the future?" Christopher smiles at himself with the thought before lifting himself up from the trench, only to fall back down, dead.
"I hope so Chris... I really do hope that there will be peace after this war, sometime..." I grip my rifle tightly ready to try to take down one of these bastards for Christopher, I lift my head and-
(Sorry for the bad writing and lack of knowledge, been a while since I've had a look at WW1 but writing this has got me inspired so I may go read up on my history and come back and revise this at some stage.) | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | "What did you say?"
Oh, shit. "I said, I flew biplanes against the Red Baron in that World War we won." Nailed it.
---
Thirty-two years later that kid found me again. This time he wasn't a kid, he was about forty. "You asshole, I knew you said World War One!"
"Wow. You have an incredible memory for small details." I sipped my coffee. "You got me."
"How'd you know another world war would happen? How many happen after this?"
"I don't know if there's a WWIII, but I'm not waiting around to find out. I'm a time traveler, kid. The first time I got to about this date, I hopped back to 1918 to live through the 20s, 30s, 40s, and 50s again with all the right stocks in my portfolio. I plan to do the same again, and probably die of old age in the roaring twenties."
"But you could go back and prevent the war! Both of them!"
"Look at me, kid, I'm twice your age at least. You think I've got the strength to kill Hitler? I've got the strength to have a stroke oogling flappers, that's about it."
"You maybe," they said, "but I'm no chicken-shit who lies about being a WWI flying ace. Send me back instead."
"It's not something I can do on a whim," I argued. "If I sent you back to protect Franz Ferdinand or whatever, I couldn't go back myself. I've only got one left, and I'm using it!"
"Don't be selfish," said the kid. "You've had two goes at history---now you've got to face the music. Gimme my shot to fix what you wouldn't."
I sighed, and pulled an old bronze pocket-watch from my suit. "Tune it to when you want, then press the thingie. And remember, you've only got one shot."
He took it in trembling hands and turned to run. "Say hello to the sixties for me if you make it that far, old man."
| "World War One?" Christopher asked with a quizzical gaze. "Why are you calling this hell that we've been dropped into World War One? It's not like it's certain something like this is going to happen again, I'd be surprised if we saw any conflict again in our lifetime after the atrocities we've been witness to."
I didn't have the heart to tell poor Christopher that whilst this war we were fighting in did matter and would change the world, it would not be the last war of this magnitude and the worst was yet to come.
I'd traveled back in time to the first great armed conflict of the 20th century to do first hand research on the archaic weaponry and tactics used by the military bodies of the past, as well as to gain an accurate record of how it affected the politics and people of the time.
I'd done all this just to write a first grade thesis on how war has evolved with the times and the negative impacts it carries and I just made one of the biggest screw ups any person who messes with time travel could make, I referred to this hell scape before me as World War One.
"Ah, just a slip of the tongue Chris, you know it just sounds right, rolls off the tongue." I answered as the enemy troops continued to fire on our position, one of the soldiers of our platoon falling down beside me as a bullet strikes into his skull "I'm sure you're right and we won't have to see, take part of, or loose friends in a conflict of this scale again"
As the firing halts on my position momentarily, I lift myself up out of the trench, readying my rifle I take careful aim and shoot at an enemy soldier who has just raised his head from their side. He falls, dead or wounded I don't know, I'm aware what I'm doing is foolish, actually taking part in this war could change events on a massive scale if I kill or even merely injure the wrong person.
I duck back down into the trench after seeing this unknown soldiers body disappear from my line of sight, those thoughts at the back of my mind, surviving being at the front.
"You think so? You think that after we teach these bastards that they should have stayed at home that we might have a chance for peace in the future?" Christopher smiles at himself with the thought before lifting himself up from the trench, only to fall back down, dead.
"I hope so Chris... I really do hope that there will be peace after this war, sometime..." I grip my rifle tightly ready to try to take down one of these bastards for Christopher, I lift my head and-
(Sorry for the bad writing and lack of knowledge, been a while since I've had a look at WW1 but writing this has got me inspired so I may go read up on my history and come back and revise this at some stage.) | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | "What did you say?"
Oh, shit. "I said, I flew biplanes against the Red Baron in that World War we won." Nailed it.
---
Thirty-two years later that kid found me again. This time he wasn't a kid, he was about forty. "You asshole, I knew you said World War One!"
"Wow. You have an incredible memory for small details." I sipped my coffee. "You got me."
"How'd you know another world war would happen? How many happen after this?"
"I don't know if there's a WWIII, but I'm not waiting around to find out. I'm a time traveler, kid. The first time I got to about this date, I hopped back to 1918 to live through the 20s, 30s, 40s, and 50s again with all the right stocks in my portfolio. I plan to do the same again, and probably die of old age in the roaring twenties."
"But you could go back and prevent the war! Both of them!"
"Look at me, kid, I'm twice your age at least. You think I've got the strength to kill Hitler? I've got the strength to have a stroke oogling flappers, that's about it."
"You maybe," they said, "but I'm no chicken-shit who lies about being a WWI flying ace. Send me back instead."
"It's not something I can do on a whim," I argued. "If I sent you back to protect Franz Ferdinand or whatever, I couldn't go back myself. I've only got one left, and I'm using it!"
"Don't be selfish," said the kid. "You've had two goes at history---now you've got to face the music. Gimme my shot to fix what you wouldn't."
I sighed, and pulled an old bronze pocket-watch from my suit. "Tune it to when you want, then press the thingie. And remember, you've only got one shot."
He took it in trembling hands and turned to run. "Say hello to the sixties for me if you make it that far, old man."
| It was just moments ago that Kevin and I were walking down Main Street when we were stopped and asked if we wanted to earn money by participating in a scientific experiment. Being that we are two broke college kids we agreed to do it not knowing what we were actually getting ourselves into. Once we got to the safety of what we assumed to be the laboratory, the dude who snatched us off the street explained to us that we would be testing out a new time travel device. Of course my buddy and I were stoked, but we couldn't agree on where to go. Not to worry though, the scientist assured us that it was safe to go alone and that we could each choose our own destination. So naturally Kevin wanted to entertain the child within him and asked to see the dinosaurs; but as a history major I wanted to witness my favorite time in history: WWI. Once our destinations were confirmed, the time travel scientist gave us a briefing on the DO's and DONT's of time travel and sent us on our way.
Before I knew it I was in antique clothing, except for my futuristic shoes which for some reason remained on my feet. I was on the same Main Street that Kevin and I had been on just moments ago except this time I was in the year 1918. I wandered up and down the street in awe taking it all in before deciding to check out a small corner shop. I milled about inside for a bit enjoying the antiques that weren't really antiques yet. I was deep in thought trying to decide what I wanted to bring back to the future with me when the shopkeeper approached.
"Can I help ya find sum'in?"
"No thanks, I'm just looking for some World War I memorabilia."
*shit*
"I mean er... uhm... I'm just looking for a souvenir. I'm not from here." (which wasn't a complete lie)
"Well we got some stuff over there you might like," the shopkeeper responded, thankfully oblivious to the fact that I had just called the war by a nonexistent name.
I continued my search for a "souvenir" when a girl about the same age as me approached. Something about her didn't quite scream 1918 to me. It took a moment before it hit me that she was wearing shoes from the future. The same future that I was from! I tried to hide my surprise as she opened her mouth to speak:
"So that bastard tricked you too, huh?"
I am still trying to pretend that I'm from 1918 at this point, so I act confused and ask her what she is talking about.
"The time travel scientist... he tricked you. Don't play dumb with me! I know you're not from here because you called the war World War I."
Holding my hands up in surrender I respond with a sarcastic tone of defeat, "Well ya caught me. So what's it to ya?"
"No need to be an ass, I just figured I'd do you a favor and let you know that we're trapped here before you found out on your own."
"Wha- WHAT? No way that's impossible!"
"Well did the scientist tell you how to get out of here?"
"......"
"Exactly"
My heart sinks as I comprehend what I've just been told. How could I have been so stupid? But at this point I can't even feel sorry for myself because at least I have this girl to team up with to find a way out. As for Kevin though, I just hope he knows how to talk to cavemen... | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | "What makes you think history will remember this as World War One? Why One?" a beautiful, blonde reporter replied as she seemed awestruck by my earlier mention of using the term 'World War One.'
Quickly, she rapidly fired another question at me. "Why one? Is there going to be another?" as she looked around the room before glancing back to me with her crystal clear blue eyes.
'Shit. Shit. I should've kept my mouth shut.' I thought as I looked down at the near empty beer glass in front of me.
I scowled as I stood up from the bar. I had one too many drinks "Look uh, Miss.." I tried to remember her name.
"Elizabeth!" She snapped back. I needed to wrap this up quick.
"Elizabeth." I said feigning calmly as I added "Forget I said anything. It's just the drink talking and it's getting late so I should be going."
"Booker!" She quietly called out. I had given her my fake name from a video game character called Bioshock Infinite and just happening to discover that this woman's name is also Elizabeth was a one hell of a coincidence. It couldn't be, could it?
"You didn't answer my question!" She quipped as I started to grab my coat from the chair as I turned for the front door outside the bar.
I started to walk away faster but she still followed; like any good reporter would. I had to suppress my frustration for acting so careless and dumb.
"Booker..." She whisked her coat on before she moved in front of me.
"You're a persistent little cuss aren't you." I snapped; trying to ward her off by being aggressive.
Still, she stood in front of me with her blue eyes - I felt as though she was reading into me; she could read into my soul and it felt uncomfortable.
"Answer me this. Why World War One?" She asked softly.
"You don't really want to know..." I glanced down to the ground, before I averted my gaze up towards the now fading sunset sky.
Elizabeth crossed her arms as she stayed focused on me.
"I saw you appear from out of thin air with that... trinket time device in your hand... You appeared near Big Ben tower and that was four weeks ago Booker. You're not from around here.." She admitted as I was taken aback.
"If Booker is even your name..." She quipped.
She went on "Everything about you. You look as if.. I don't know.. you know more than you let on... So I've been following you..."
"Please.." Elizabeth said as her eyes hinted a sense of concern and sadness.
I inhaled in my frustration as I shot a look at Elizabeth. It was true. I had no way of appearing if I was going to be seen or unseen when I stepped through that time portal.....
She listened quietly as I replied:
"Because there's also going to be World War Two."
| World War One. If you can think of anything at all that would be even worse to say at a time not of your own, please do not hesitate to tell me. I'd like to know that even though what I did was of orders of magnitudes of stupidity on a scale unimaginable by even the brightest minds, it was still not the worst thing anyone has ever done. I could probably use that sentence as the opening line of my autobiography, should I live to write it. I doubt anyone would take it seriously if it was a biography, in fact they'd probably consider it a work of comedic fiction.
I'm getting sidetracked.
Pin-drop silence. One of those things everybody knows but only those that have experienced the sheer level of awkwardness it brings on can truly understand. My first and only thought was "I fucked up". I say only thought because it truly did feel like it when I regained consciousness in an interrogation room. In fact, when everyone in the barracks froze and averted their gazes toward me, faces a mixture of bewilderment, horror, confusion and oddly enough, some grinning, it was one of few times where my body decided to act in accordance with my mind and decided it was best to alleviate the awkwardness with a spot of passing out.
I digress.
One bright lamp in the room, over the steel table behind which I sat facing possibly the award winner for most angry man to ever live, and behind him a two-way mirror with probably the runner-ups behind it. He was dressed in your standard moss-green military uniform, decorated to blind the person looking at it. We'd been staring at each other for awhile, his face unmoving and his eyes unblinking. I could tell he was trying to break me by winning the most intense staring contest I've ever been a part of. I tried my best not to blink and keep my composure, but his lack of other emotions and care for the game meant that I had won the staring contest before he even knew he was playing. Still, I did not waver.
That was until he pulled out a gun.
----
My first at attempt at writing anything, I literally just wrote what came to mind. There really isn't a direction, it's more of an intense story opener mixed with a little comedy. | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | "What did you say?"
Oh, shit. "I said, I flew biplanes against the Red Baron in that World War we won." Nailed it.
---
Thirty-two years later that kid found me again. This time he wasn't a kid, he was about forty. "You asshole, I knew you said World War One!"
"Wow. You have an incredible memory for small details." I sipped my coffee. "You got me."
"How'd you know another world war would happen? How many happen after this?"
"I don't know if there's a WWIII, but I'm not waiting around to find out. I'm a time traveler, kid. The first time I got to about this date, I hopped back to 1918 to live through the 20s, 30s, 40s, and 50s again with all the right stocks in my portfolio. I plan to do the same again, and probably die of old age in the roaring twenties."
"But you could go back and prevent the war! Both of them!"
"Look at me, kid, I'm twice your age at least. You think I've got the strength to kill Hitler? I've got the strength to have a stroke oogling flappers, that's about it."
"You maybe," they said, "but I'm no chicken-shit who lies about being a WWI flying ace. Send me back instead."
"It's not something I can do on a whim," I argued. "If I sent you back to protect Franz Ferdinand or whatever, I couldn't go back myself. I've only got one left, and I'm using it!"
"Don't be selfish," said the kid. "You've had two goes at history---now you've got to face the music. Gimme my shot to fix what you wouldn't."
I sighed, and pulled an old bronze pocket-watch from my suit. "Tune it to when you want, then press the thingie. And remember, you've only got one shot."
He took it in trembling hands and turned to run. "Say hello to the sixties for me if you make it that far, old man."
| World War One. If you can think of anything at all that would be even worse to say at a time not of your own, please do not hesitate to tell me. I'd like to know that even though what I did was of orders of magnitudes of stupidity on a scale unimaginable by even the brightest minds, it was still not the worst thing anyone has ever done. I could probably use that sentence as the opening line of my autobiography, should I live to write it. I doubt anyone would take it seriously if it was a biography, in fact they'd probably consider it a work of comedic fiction.
I'm getting sidetracked.
Pin-drop silence. One of those things everybody knows but only those that have experienced the sheer level of awkwardness it brings on can truly understand. My first and only thought was "I fucked up". I say only thought because it truly did feel like it when I regained consciousness in an interrogation room. In fact, when everyone in the barracks froze and averted their gazes toward me, faces a mixture of bewilderment, horror, confusion and oddly enough, some grinning, it was one of few times where my body decided to act in accordance with my mind and decided it was best to alleviate the awkwardness with a spot of passing out.
I digress.
One bright lamp in the room, over the steel table behind which I sat facing possibly the award winner for most angry man to ever live, and behind him a two-way mirror with probably the runner-ups behind it. He was dressed in your standard moss-green military uniform, decorated to blind the person looking at it. We'd been staring at each other for awhile, his face unmoving and his eyes unblinking. I could tell he was trying to break me by winning the most intense staring contest I've ever been a part of. I tried my best not to blink and keep my composure, but his lack of other emotions and care for the game meant that I had won the staring contest before he even knew he was playing. Still, I did not waver.
That was until he pulled out a gun.
----
My first at attempt at writing anything, I literally just wrote what came to mind. There really isn't a direction, it's more of an intense story opener mixed with a little comedy. | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | "You do not believe this is the last world conflict we'll see?"
I paused, realizing the blunder I had just made. However, it did not change anything; I could attribute my statement to many things without raising suspicion that I was not from this *time.*
"No, I do not think this is the last world war we will see," I replied to the disheartened man.
"I hope you are wrong; I have seen the devastation and destruction of war firsthand, and I would not wish to see a new generation plunged into that darkness again."
 
The irony of what he said twisted like a knife in my stomach. I watched the man limp over to his stool and take a seat. He picked up his brush and gently began stroking red lines onto his canvas, taking extreme care with every movement of his arm. He was not great at painting, but he was also not terrible, either. *Amazing how such small failures can alter one's life so drastically,* I thought as I walked over to where the man was sitting.
I took a deep breath and raised the Beretta M9 pistol I had brought with me. It was time for me to head back, and I prayed the world I returned to would be significantly improved when I returned.
I turned the safety off and took aim. "Goodbye Adolf," I muttered as I pulled the trigger... | *First attempt, I like this prompt idea*
"**World War One?** For what reason would there be another?"
Realizing quickly what I had done, I had to remember the books I read. If I remembered correctly, the Treaty of Versily made Germany too weak to pay it's debts, and made it's debts huge. "Because of the Treaty of Versily."
"Versailles you mean." Whoa almost screwed that that up. "Why would the treaty ever make a second World War?"
"Because Germany was too weak... and so they couldn't pay off their debts. With their debts unpaid, they would take loans from America. While paying off Europe, they would accumulate debt from America. Too keep up with payments, they printe- *would print* - off more and more money, in higher denominations. This would ultimately cause a world wide depression of economy. From there, Germany would fix it by making an army, and Europe wouldn't stop them."
"We have some of the smartest politicians in the world making this treaty, they honestly would have a way of stopping this, eh?"
"Seeing the horrors that this war caused, everyone's probably gonna outlaw war, and you can't enforce an outlaw on war without war. Honestly, these people think they're smarter than they are, and that's their downfall."
"Better stock up on gold then, eh? *Hehehe* Well good day to you sir, I think you're wrong, but it seems possible."
I barely survived tha- wait did he say stock up on gold? My great grandfather's grandfather stocked up on gold after WWI because of something a man told him. | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | "What makes you think history will remember this as World War One? Why One?" a beautiful, blonde reporter replied as she seemed awestruck by my earlier mention of using the term 'World War One.'
Quickly, she rapidly fired another question at me. "Why one? Is there going to be another?" as she looked around the room before glancing back to me with her crystal clear blue eyes.
'Shit. Shit. I should've kept my mouth shut.' I thought as I looked down at the near empty beer glass in front of me.
I scowled as I stood up from the bar. I had one too many drinks "Look uh, Miss.." I tried to remember her name.
"Elizabeth!" She snapped back. I needed to wrap this up quick.
"Elizabeth." I said feigning calmly as I added "Forget I said anything. It's just the drink talking and it's getting late so I should be going."
"Booker!" She quietly called out. I had given her my fake name from a video game character called Bioshock Infinite and just happening to discover that this woman's name is also Elizabeth was a one hell of a coincidence. It couldn't be, could it?
"You didn't answer my question!" She quipped as I started to grab my coat from the chair as I turned for the front door outside the bar.
I started to walk away faster but she still followed; like any good reporter would. I had to suppress my frustration for acting so careless and dumb.
"Booker..." She whisked her coat on before she moved in front of me.
"You're a persistent little cuss aren't you." I snapped; trying to ward her off by being aggressive.
Still, she stood in front of me with her blue eyes - I felt as though she was reading into me; she could read into my soul and it felt uncomfortable.
"Answer me this. Why World War One?" She asked softly.
"You don't really want to know..." I glanced down to the ground, before I averted my gaze up towards the now fading sunset sky.
Elizabeth crossed her arms as she stayed focused on me.
"I saw you appear from out of thin air with that... trinket time device in your hand... You appeared near Big Ben tower and that was four weeks ago Booker. You're not from around here.." She admitted as I was taken aback.
"If Booker is even your name..." She quipped.
She went on "Everything about you. You look as if.. I don't know.. you know more than you let on... So I've been following you..."
"Please.." Elizabeth said as her eyes hinted a sense of concern and sadness.
I inhaled in my frustration as I shot a look at Elizabeth. It was true. I had no way of appearing if I was going to be seen or unseen when I stepped through that time portal.....
She listened quietly as I replied:
"Because there's also going to be World War Two."
| *First attempt, I like this prompt idea*
"**World War One?** For what reason would there be another?"
Realizing quickly what I had done, I had to remember the books I read. If I remembered correctly, the Treaty of Versily made Germany too weak to pay it's debts, and made it's debts huge. "Because of the Treaty of Versily."
"Versailles you mean." Whoa almost screwed that that up. "Why would the treaty ever make a second World War?"
"Because Germany was too weak... and so they couldn't pay off their debts. With their debts unpaid, they would take loans from America. While paying off Europe, they would accumulate debt from America. Too keep up with payments, they printe- *would print* - off more and more money, in higher denominations. This would ultimately cause a world wide depression of economy. From there, Germany would fix it by making an army, and Europe wouldn't stop them."
"We have some of the smartest politicians in the world making this treaty, they honestly would have a way of stopping this, eh?"
"Seeing the horrors that this war caused, everyone's probably gonna outlaw war, and you can't enforce an outlaw on war without war. Honestly, these people think they're smarter than they are, and that's their downfall."
"Better stock up on gold then, eh? *Hehehe* Well good day to you sir, I think you're wrong, but it seems possible."
I barely survived tha- wait did he say stock up on gold? My great grandfather's grandfather stocked up on gold after WWI because of something a man told him. | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | "What did you say?"
Oh, shit. "I said, I flew biplanes against the Red Baron in that World War we won." Nailed it.
---
Thirty-two years later that kid found me again. This time he wasn't a kid, he was about forty. "You asshole, I knew you said World War One!"
"Wow. You have an incredible memory for small details." I sipped my coffee. "You got me."
"How'd you know another world war would happen? How many happen after this?"
"I don't know if there's a WWIII, but I'm not waiting around to find out. I'm a time traveler, kid. The first time I got to about this date, I hopped back to 1918 to live through the 20s, 30s, 40s, and 50s again with all the right stocks in my portfolio. I plan to do the same again, and probably die of old age in the roaring twenties."
"But you could go back and prevent the war! Both of them!"
"Look at me, kid, I'm twice your age at least. You think I've got the strength to kill Hitler? I've got the strength to have a stroke oogling flappers, that's about it."
"You maybe," they said, "but I'm no chicken-shit who lies about being a WWI flying ace. Send me back instead."
"It's not something I can do on a whim," I argued. "If I sent you back to protect Franz Ferdinand or whatever, I couldn't go back myself. I've only got one left, and I'm using it!"
"Don't be selfish," said the kid. "You've had two goes at history---now you've got to face the music. Gimme my shot to fix what you wouldn't."
I sighed, and pulled an old bronze pocket-watch from my suit. "Tune it to when you want, then press the thingie. And remember, you've only got one shot."
He took it in trembling hands and turned to run. "Say hello to the sixties for me if you make it that far, old man."
| *First attempt, I like this prompt idea*
"**World War One?** For what reason would there be another?"
Realizing quickly what I had done, I had to remember the books I read. If I remembered correctly, the Treaty of Versily made Germany too weak to pay it's debts, and made it's debts huge. "Because of the Treaty of Versily."
"Versailles you mean." Whoa almost screwed that that up. "Why would the treaty ever make a second World War?"
"Because Germany was too weak... and so they couldn't pay off their debts. With their debts unpaid, they would take loans from America. While paying off Europe, they would accumulate debt from America. Too keep up with payments, they printe- *would print* - off more and more money, in higher denominations. This would ultimately cause a world wide depression of economy. From there, Germany would fix it by making an army, and Europe wouldn't stop them."
"We have some of the smartest politicians in the world making this treaty, they honestly would have a way of stopping this, eh?"
"Seeing the horrors that this war caused, everyone's probably gonna outlaw war, and you can't enforce an outlaw on war without war. Honestly, these people think they're smarter than they are, and that's their downfall."
"Better stock up on gold then, eh? *Hehehe* Well good day to you sir, I think you're wrong, but it seems possible."
I barely survived tha- wait did he say stock up on gold? My great grandfather's grandfather stocked up on gold after WWI because of something a man told him. | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | They say that you cannot truly become a general until you’ve seen the trenches of World War I with your own eyes. The truth is that there’s little else in our history that can compare to the Intergalactic Stalemate with the Xi-An. According to the statistics of LN, waging war on such a massive scale is ungraspable by our brains. To be able to make proper decisions, we need to study our past. LN says *observe trench warfare from the Age of Division*, so that’s what we do.
The first sensation that hits me when the Chronosphere disperses is the smell. Nine million dead soldiers – it’s nothing compared to our standards, but some of them are rotting in the mud nearby.
The adapter unit changes my holo suit into a pair of thick leather boots, an antique textile army jacket, and a heavy pot-helmet in some unrefined metal. The mud splashes as the hover disc shuts off.
A blaring noise suddenly rings out across the flat brown landscape. At first, my brain doesn’t grasp the situation. The deafening siren rings in my ears, and then before I know what’s what, someone tackles me from behind and together we tumble into the wet trench.
A moment later the ground starts shaking, and torrents of earth erupt all around us. My intestines feel like scrambled synth-eggs, and my brain like it’s leaking out of my ears. White noise. Soreness. Disorientation.
Someone pulls me to my feet. He waves a hand in front of my eyes, trying to make me focus, but the world keeps spinning. It’s hard to make out his face through the dirt, but he’s clearly angry.
The man finally lets me go, and I wobble a few steps before crashing into the brown water, retching. The gunmetal sky above shifts slowly, and drops of rain patter against my forehead, washing away the sick from my lips.
Swirling discs of light dot my vision, and soon the world fades into a gray and brown gruel.
***
"Hey, kid!" Rough hands on my shoulders shake my aching body. "I know that you’re not dead."
Blinking away the sticky muck from my eyes, a man with a face like a boulder starts to take shape.
"Whoever sent you to the frontline had probably had a few shots too many," the man says, shaking his head. "Unless this is a joke of some kind?"
At least, my translator seems to be working. The archaic English accent is displayed on my visual feed.
"You’re lucky," he says. "If I hadn’t tackled you… well, you’d be mush now. What the hell were you doing in no-mans-land, anyway? Do you have a death wish? I mean I wouldn’t hold it against you. Enemy fire is perhaps better than slowly getting eaten alive by the rot."
I glance at the watch on my wrist. The glass is cracked but the date displayed is:
>September 6th, 1918. (Local calendar)
Shit. The war’s not over. I’ve heard this happen before. Time travel isn’t an exact science. I had expected to be strolling along the trenches and look at the aftermath, not end up in the middle of it all.
"Have some to drink," the man says and puts a bottle to my lips.
The liquid rolling down my throat isn’t water; it’s some antique brew with a very high alcohol percentage. Coughing, my eyes go wide. The man starts laughing.
"You’re a precious little thing, aren’t you? I don’t mean any offense but you look a bit like a girl."
I take a deep breath, looking around at the flimsy walls of the small tent. "What happened?"
The smug smile melts away from his lips. His dark eyes narrow into slits.
"You *are* a girl…" he says after a drawn-out pause. "Goddamn."
"I need to go back out there." It’ll be easier to land in the right time from here.
"You’ll not be going anywhere."
"I have to..."
"What’s your name, girl?" he says stiffly.
"Patience. What’s yours?"
"Listen, Patience. You’ve broken several ribs, and I had to amputate your left leg. The only reason you’re not going silly with pain is that you’re high on drugs. You’re not going anywhere."
Wide-eyed I throw off the blanket, feeling a flash of agony in my chest from the quick movement. Wrapped in bloodstained bandages, my left leg ends in a stump at the knee.
"I’m sorry, but the shrapnel made it impossible to save. You would’ve bled out."
"I need to get back!" My voice cracks and tears start pooling in my eyes. "Please!"
If only I can get back, I could return to my own time. If I stay here, who knows what infections I might get? My head spins. The stump glares at me. Shit.
"Oh, yeah and my name is Richard."
"I don’t care what your name is! You need to take me back there. I can’t die in World War I! This is just practice." I shouldn’t be saying these things.
"World War I?" Richard says suspiciously. "It's never *just practice*."
"Listen, I’m not from here. I need to get back to the place you found me."
Fuck it. I reach for the button to activate hover control again, only to realize he’s stripped the entire unit from my back.
"Looking for this?" he says, dangling a hurdle of cables.
"Give it to me."
To my surprise, he casually starts strapping the device to his wrist and back, as if he’s done it a hundred times before. I just stare, mouth open.
"I was just kidding earlier, Patience." He smiles dangerously. "You didn’t actually get hit by shrapnel. I took off your leg for fun."
His army jacket flickers for a moment as the hover device turns into a leather satchel on his back. He has an adapter unit. The realization makes me shiver.
"Yeah, I destroyed your Chronosphere. Sorry, but you’re stuck with me." He pulls out a rusty saw and approaches me with a wicked grin plastered on his face.
As he leans over me, I catch a glimpse of his reflection in the saw. Obsidian horns sprout from his head, curling over his skull. His eyes stare pupilless and sickly green. He's a Xi-An Time Reaper. LN said we had destroyed their monastery... that we had eliminated them all.
"Now, which one of your arms do you like the least?"
***
More stories here: r/Lilwa_Dexel
| *First attempt, I like this prompt idea*
"**World War One?** For what reason would there be another?"
Realizing quickly what I had done, I had to remember the books I read. If I remembered correctly, the Treaty of Versily made Germany too weak to pay it's debts, and made it's debts huge. "Because of the Treaty of Versily."
"Versailles you mean." Whoa almost screwed that that up. "Why would the treaty ever make a second World War?"
"Because Germany was too weak... and so they couldn't pay off their debts. With their debts unpaid, they would take loans from America. While paying off Europe, they would accumulate debt from America. Too keep up with payments, they printe- *would print* - off more and more money, in higher denominations. This would ultimately cause a world wide depression of economy. From there, Germany would fix it by making an army, and Europe wouldn't stop them."
"We have some of the smartest politicians in the world making this treaty, they honestly would have a way of stopping this, eh?"
"Seeing the horrors that this war caused, everyone's probably gonna outlaw war, and you can't enforce an outlaw on war without war. Honestly, these people think they're smarter than they are, and that's their downfall."
"Better stock up on gold then, eh? *Hehehe* Well good day to you sir, I think you're wrong, but it seems possible."
I barely survived tha- wait did he say stock up on gold? My great grandfather's grandfather stocked up on gold after WWI because of something a man told him. | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | "You know, for the 'Great War' it really isn't that great. To be honest I get why people call it 'World War One' instead"
As soon as those words left my mouth I froze, immediately wishing I could take them back.
"That's a funny thing to say. I've heard this conflict called many names, but 'World War Won' is the most....unique. Well I suppose emphasizing victory is better than dwelling upon destruction" a voice spoke out from behind me. I turned to see a well dressed gentleman giving me a curious look.
"Ah yes well..." I began, words fading away as I struggled to explain myself.
The man shook his head and smiled as though watching the antics of a child, then tipped his hat before leaving. Watching the diplomat walk away toward the main building, my mind raced as I tried to figure out what just happened.
*Emphasizing victory? Could he have misheard me? World War One, one, won, World War Won...Oh!*
Mentally kicking myself for the blunder, I moved to follow him through the winding walkways at Versailles.
*Thank goodness for homonyms, let's get this research paper written so I can get out of here* | *First attempt, I like this prompt idea*
"**World War One?** For what reason would there be another?"
Realizing quickly what I had done, I had to remember the books I read. If I remembered correctly, the Treaty of Versily made Germany too weak to pay it's debts, and made it's debts huge. "Because of the Treaty of Versily."
"Versailles you mean." Whoa almost screwed that that up. "Why would the treaty ever make a second World War?"
"Because Germany was too weak... and so they couldn't pay off their debts. With their debts unpaid, they would take loans from America. While paying off Europe, they would accumulate debt from America. Too keep up with payments, they printe- *would print* - off more and more money, in higher denominations. This would ultimately cause a world wide depression of economy. From there, Germany would fix it by making an army, and Europe wouldn't stop them."
"We have some of the smartest politicians in the world making this treaty, they honestly would have a way of stopping this, eh?"
"Seeing the horrors that this war caused, everyone's probably gonna outlaw war, and you can't enforce an outlaw on war without war. Honestly, these people think they're smarter than they are, and that's their downfall."
"Better stock up on gold then, eh? *Hehehe* Well good day to you sir, I think you're wrong, but it seems possible."
I barely survived tha- wait did he say stock up on gold? My great grandfather's grandfather stocked up on gold after WWI because of something a man told him. | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | "Peace must prevail."
I looked at him sadly. "This isn't the way. Please believe me."
He was adamant. "Our people are disheartened, painted as villains. It is not so. We are a proud people. Strong. We will not allow tyranny and oppression to silence us."
"And you believe that you'll be different? You believe that in forcing their hand, you will be just and altruistic?"
He refused to look at me. "It is for the greater good."
He would not be swayed. His path had been chosen and no words of mine would change the tragedy and suffering he would wreak.
One more effort.
"Think of the brothers you have lost," I implored him. "Imagine. Just imagine the world that would have been if only World War One could have been prevented."
He gave me a confused look, the dawning realisation of what I'd said inspiring a mad expression, a terrible fire that flickered in his eyes and whispered his soul's darkest dreams.
"World War One?" | *First attempt, I like this prompt idea*
"**World War One?** For what reason would there be another?"
Realizing quickly what I had done, I had to remember the books I read. If I remembered correctly, the Treaty of Versily made Germany too weak to pay it's debts, and made it's debts huge. "Because of the Treaty of Versily."
"Versailles you mean." Whoa almost screwed that that up. "Why would the treaty ever make a second World War?"
"Because Germany was too weak... and so they couldn't pay off their debts. With their debts unpaid, they would take loans from America. While paying off Europe, they would accumulate debt from America. Too keep up with payments, they printe- *would print* - off more and more money, in higher denominations. This would ultimately cause a world wide depression of economy. From there, Germany would fix it by making an army, and Europe wouldn't stop them."
"We have some of the smartest politicians in the world making this treaty, they honestly would have a way of stopping this, eh?"
"Seeing the horrors that this war caused, everyone's probably gonna outlaw war, and you can't enforce an outlaw on war without war. Honestly, these people think they're smarter than they are, and that's their downfall."
"Better stock up on gold then, eh? *Hehehe* Well good day to you sir, I think you're wrong, but it seems possible."
I barely survived tha- wait did he say stock up on gold? My great grandfather's grandfather stocked up on gold after WWI because of something a man told him. | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | "What makes you think history will remember this as World War One? Why One?" a beautiful, blonde reporter replied as she seemed awestruck by my earlier mention of using the term 'World War One.'
Quickly, she rapidly fired another question at me. "Why one? Is there going to be another?" as she looked around the room before glancing back to me with her crystal clear blue eyes.
'Shit. Shit. I should've kept my mouth shut.' I thought as I looked down at the near empty beer glass in front of me.
I scowled as I stood up from the bar. I had one too many drinks "Look uh, Miss.." I tried to remember her name.
"Elizabeth!" She snapped back. I needed to wrap this up quick.
"Elizabeth." I said feigning calmly as I added "Forget I said anything. It's just the drink talking and it's getting late so I should be going."
"Booker!" She quietly called out. I had given her my fake name from a video game character called Bioshock Infinite and just happening to discover that this woman's name is also Elizabeth was a one hell of a coincidence. It couldn't be, could it?
"You didn't answer my question!" She quipped as I started to grab my coat from the chair as I turned for the front door outside the bar.
I started to walk away faster but she still followed; like any good reporter would. I had to suppress my frustration for acting so careless and dumb.
"Booker..." She whisked her coat on before she moved in front of me.
"You're a persistent little cuss aren't you." I snapped; trying to ward her off by being aggressive.
Still, she stood in front of me with her blue eyes - I felt as though she was reading into me; she could read into my soul and it felt uncomfortable.
"Answer me this. Why World War One?" She asked softly.
"You don't really want to know..." I glanced down to the ground, before I averted my gaze up towards the now fading sunset sky.
Elizabeth crossed her arms as she stayed focused on me.
"I saw you appear from out of thin air with that... trinket time device in your hand... You appeared near Big Ben tower and that was four weeks ago Booker. You're not from around here.." She admitted as I was taken aback.
"If Booker is even your name..." She quipped.
She went on "Everything about you. You look as if.. I don't know.. you know more than you let on... So I've been following you..."
"Please.." Elizabeth said as her eyes hinted a sense of concern and sadness.
I inhaled in my frustration as I shot a look at Elizabeth. It was true. I had no way of appearing if I was going to be seen or unseen when I stepped through that time portal.....
She listened quietly as I replied:
"Because there's also going to be World War Two."
| "You do not believe this is the last world conflict we'll see?"
I paused, realizing the blunder I had just made. However, it did not change anything; I could attribute my statement to many things without raising suspicion that I was not from this *time.*
"No, I do not think this is the last world war we will see," I replied to the disheartened man.
"I hope you are wrong; I have seen the devastation and destruction of war firsthand, and I would not wish to see a new generation plunged into that darkness again."
 
The irony of what he said twisted like a knife in my stomach. I watched the man limp over to his stool and take a seat. He picked up his brush and gently began stroking red lines onto his canvas, taking extreme care with every movement of his arm. He was not great at painting, but he was also not terrible, either. *Amazing how such small failures can alter one's life so drastically,* I thought as I walked over to where the man was sitting.
I took a deep breath and raised the Beretta M9 pistol I had brought with me. It was time for me to head back, and I prayed the world I returned to would be significantly improved when I returned.
I turned the safety off and took aim. "Goodbye Adolf," I muttered as I pulled the trigger... | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | "What did you say?"
Oh, shit. "I said, I flew biplanes against the Red Baron in that World War we won." Nailed it.
---
Thirty-two years later that kid found me again. This time he wasn't a kid, he was about forty. "You asshole, I knew you said World War One!"
"Wow. You have an incredible memory for small details." I sipped my coffee. "You got me."
"How'd you know another world war would happen? How many happen after this?"
"I don't know if there's a WWIII, but I'm not waiting around to find out. I'm a time traveler, kid. The first time I got to about this date, I hopped back to 1918 to live through the 20s, 30s, 40s, and 50s again with all the right stocks in my portfolio. I plan to do the same again, and probably die of old age in the roaring twenties."
"But you could go back and prevent the war! Both of them!"
"Look at me, kid, I'm twice your age at least. You think I've got the strength to kill Hitler? I've got the strength to have a stroke oogling flappers, that's about it."
"You maybe," they said, "but I'm no chicken-shit who lies about being a WWI flying ace. Send me back instead."
"It's not something I can do on a whim," I argued. "If I sent you back to protect Franz Ferdinand or whatever, I couldn't go back myself. I've only got one left, and I'm using it!"
"Don't be selfish," said the kid. "You've had two goes at history---now you've got to face the music. Gimme my shot to fix what you wouldn't."
I sighed, and pulled an old bronze pocket-watch from my suit. "Tune it to when you want, then press the thingie. And remember, you've only got one shot."
He took it in trembling hands and turned to run. "Say hello to the sixties for me if you make it that far, old man."
| "You do not believe this is the last world conflict we'll see?"
I paused, realizing the blunder I had just made. However, it did not change anything; I could attribute my statement to many things without raising suspicion that I was not from this *time.*
"No, I do not think this is the last world war we will see," I replied to the disheartened man.
"I hope you are wrong; I have seen the devastation and destruction of war firsthand, and I would not wish to see a new generation plunged into that darkness again."
 
The irony of what he said twisted like a knife in my stomach. I watched the man limp over to his stool and take a seat. He picked up his brush and gently began stroking red lines onto his canvas, taking extreme care with every movement of his arm. He was not great at painting, but he was also not terrible, either. *Amazing how such small failures can alter one's life so drastically,* I thought as I walked over to where the man was sitting.
I took a deep breath and raised the Beretta M9 pistol I had brought with me. It was time for me to head back, and I prayed the world I returned to would be significantly improved when I returned.
I turned the safety off and took aim. "Goodbye Adolf," I muttered as I pulled the trigger... | |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | "What did you say?"
Oh, shit. "I said, I flew biplanes against the Red Baron in that World War we won." Nailed it.
---
Thirty-two years later that kid found me again. This time he wasn't a kid, he was about forty. "You asshole, I knew you said World War One!"
"Wow. You have an incredible memory for small details." I sipped my coffee. "You got me."
"How'd you know another world war would happen? How many happen after this?"
"I don't know if there's a WWIII, but I'm not waiting around to find out. I'm a time traveler, kid. The first time I got to about this date, I hopped back to 1918 to live through the 20s, 30s, 40s, and 50s again with all the right stocks in my portfolio. I plan to do the same again, and probably die of old age in the roaring twenties."
"But you could go back and prevent the war! Both of them!"
"Look at me, kid, I'm twice your age at least. You think I've got the strength to kill Hitler? I've got the strength to have a stroke oogling flappers, that's about it."
"You maybe," they said, "but I'm no chicken-shit who lies about being a WWI flying ace. Send me back instead."
"It's not something I can do on a whim," I argued. "If I sent you back to protect Franz Ferdinand or whatever, I couldn't go back myself. I've only got one left, and I'm using it!"
"Don't be selfish," said the kid. "You've had two goes at history---now you've got to face the music. Gimme my shot to fix what you wouldn't."
I sighed, and pulled an old bronze pocket-watch from my suit. "Tune it to when you want, then press the thingie. And remember, you've only got one shot."
He took it in trembling hands and turned to run. "Say hello to the sixties for me if you make it that far, old man."
| "What makes you think history will remember this as World War One? Why One?" a beautiful, blonde reporter replied as she seemed awestruck by my earlier mention of using the term 'World War One.'
Quickly, she rapidly fired another question at me. "Why one? Is there going to be another?" as she looked around the room before glancing back to me with her crystal clear blue eyes.
'Shit. Shit. I should've kept my mouth shut.' I thought as I looked down at the near empty beer glass in front of me.
I scowled as I stood up from the bar. I had one too many drinks "Look uh, Miss.." I tried to remember her name.
"Elizabeth!" She snapped back. I needed to wrap this up quick.
"Elizabeth." I said feigning calmly as I added "Forget I said anything. It's just the drink talking and it's getting late so I should be going."
"Booker!" She quietly called out. I had given her my fake name from a video game character called Bioshock Infinite and just happening to discover that this woman's name is also Elizabeth was a one hell of a coincidence. It couldn't be, could it?
"You didn't answer my question!" She quipped as I started to grab my coat from the chair as I turned for the front door outside the bar.
I started to walk away faster but she still followed; like any good reporter would. I had to suppress my frustration for acting so careless and dumb.
"Booker..." She whisked her coat on before she moved in front of me.
"You're a persistent little cuss aren't you." I snapped; trying to ward her off by being aggressive.
Still, she stood in front of me with her blue eyes - I felt as though she was reading into me; she could read into my soul and it felt uncomfortable.
"Answer me this. Why World War One?" She asked softly.
"You don't really want to know..." I glanced down to the ground, before I averted my gaze up towards the now fading sunset sky.
Elizabeth crossed her arms as she stayed focused on me.
"I saw you appear from out of thin air with that... trinket time device in your hand... You appeared near Big Ben tower and that was four weeks ago Booker. You're not from around here.." She admitted as I was taken aback.
"If Booker is even your name..." She quipped.
She went on "Everything about you. You look as if.. I don't know.. you know more than you let on... So I've been following you..."
"Please.." Elizabeth said as her eyes hinted a sense of concern and sadness.
I inhaled in my frustration as I shot a look at Elizabeth. It was true. I had no way of appearing if I was going to be seen or unseen when I stepped through that time portal.....
She listened quietly as I replied:
"Because there's also going to be World War Two."
| |
[WP] You are a time traveler in 1918, and you just accidentally said "World War One" | "Peace must prevail."
I looked at him sadly. "This isn't the way. Please believe me."
He was adamant. "Our people are disheartened, painted as villains. It is not so. We are a proud people. Strong. We will not allow tyranny and oppression to silence us."
"And you believe that you'll be different? You believe that in forcing their hand, you will be just and altruistic?"
He refused to look at me. "It is for the greater good."
He would not be swayed. His path had been chosen and no words of mine would change the tragedy and suffering he would wreak.
One more effort.
"Think of the brothers you have lost," I implored him. "Imagine. Just imagine the world that would have been if only World War One could have been prevented."
He gave me a confused look, the dawning realisation of what I'd said inspiring a mad expression, a terrible fire that flickered in his eyes and whispered his soul's darkest dreams.
"World War One?" | "You know, for the 'Great War' it really isn't that great. To be honest I get why people call it 'World War One' instead"
As soon as those words left my mouth I froze, immediately wishing I could take them back.
"That's a funny thing to say. I've heard this conflict called many names, but 'World War Won' is the most....unique. Well I suppose emphasizing victory is better than dwelling upon destruction" a voice spoke out from behind me. I turned to see a well dressed gentleman giving me a curious look.
"Ah yes well..." I began, words fading away as I struggled to explain myself.
The man shook his head and smiled as though watching the antics of a child, then tipped his hat before leaving. Watching the diplomat walk away toward the main building, my mind raced as I tried to figure out what just happened.
*Emphasizing victory? Could he have misheard me? World War One, one, won, World War Won...Oh!*
Mentally kicking myself for the blunder, I moved to follow him through the winding walkways at Versailles.
*Thank goodness for homonyms, let's get this research paper written so I can get out of here* | |
[WP] Vampires cannot enter a house uninvited. Turns out, they invented Welcome mats to bypass this rule decades ago. | "Welcome to Vlads Mats and Rugs, how may I help you?"
Ella looked bored, in her black eyeliner, purple shadow and spider earrings that hung from drops of silver. She tried to force a smile but decided against it because it wouldn't reach her eyes and she'd only freak out the customer.
"Hello, I'd like to buy... Actually are these on sale?"
"No ma'am only the items in the blue section are for sale this week."
"But I found this in the blue section."
Ella had to strain not to roll her eyes. 'one of these.' she thought.
"I apologise, but this item is not on sale. I guess someone placed it there by mistake."
"Don't you have a company policy? The customer is always right?"
Ella could feel her blood vessels surging. She thought of arguing but decided the better alternative.
"Sure. It's on sale. All you have to do is fill out this survey with your members card, you'll get discounts year round on all rugs, curtains and bathroom items."
"Yeah, that's what I thought."
The woman triumphiantly signed the digital pad with her name, number and best of all address. Ella smiled.
"Thank you for signing up. As a show of thanks we will throw in this free welcome rug."
The woman smiled wide, happy at being pampered.
"Oh! Awesome. Thank you."
"No problem. Thank you for being a member."
Vampires never killed their prey, that would quickly reduce the supply. Instead you simply turn them over and bite, the analgesics in the saliva would prevent them from waking or feeling the bite. But this one, Ella thought, was deserving of a nice painful bite.
"Hope to see you soon. And don't forget, to lay down your welcome mat."
Ella smiled, her boss would be happy. One more on the menu and she'd be happy. One angry customer getting what she deserved. A bite on the ass. | "No. No no, who's idea was this!?" We were standing in front of the second stubborn entrance. In disbelief of the first one, we tried another just to be sure. Yet another trusting resident had forgot to lock his door, but as soon as I had opened it and set my foot in I was tossed back by the well known force that left a bitter taste in my mouth.
"So, what now? Can we change out the mat?" My spawn looked like a Lemure where he stood, trying to be smug. "It doesn't work that way, Marcel. THEY need to put it out themselves!" I was tempted to hit him, but stayed my hand while on our stealthy visit. Instead I turned my attention back to the mat in front of the door. "Sorry, I'm just hungry." He blurted out as he realized my subdued anger.
It turned out the humans had become inventive and changed our craftily simple designs that acted like a counter to our entrance curse. Instead of the obvious "Welcome" the mats in front of the doors we had failed to enter were supposed to spell out, they read stupid jokes like "Oh shit not you again" and "Whalecome". The last one was even shaped like a whale... | |
[WP] Vampires cannot enter a house uninvited. Turns out, they invented Welcome mats to bypass this rule decades ago. | Door to door. I am so hungry, but I force a smile on my face. "Hello, sorry to bother you this evening, but would you like to browse our catalogue?" I hold it open.
"Hm...they all say 'welcome,' don't you have any that have cutesy phrases?" They say back. I'm tempted to lie, to say we don't. I try nudging her to ones that say "please, come in," or other phrases of use to me, but there's no budging her, she wants one as a joke for her neighbor. Eventually, defeated, I accept her purchase of one "Ca$h me Inside" for $19.99.
"Could I measure your door?" I ask. It's a long shot, but I'm *so* hungry!
"Oh, please, do come in!" Fucking *finally*! | "No. No no, who's idea was this!?" We were standing in front of the second stubborn entrance. In disbelief of the first one, we tried another just to be sure. Yet another trusting resident had forgot to lock his door, but as soon as I had opened it and set my foot in I was tossed back by the well known force that left a bitter taste in my mouth.
"So, what now? Can we change out the mat?" My spawn looked like a Lemure where he stood, trying to be smug. "It doesn't work that way, Marcel. THEY need to put it out themselves!" I was tempted to hit him, but stayed my hand while on our stealthy visit. Instead I turned my attention back to the mat in front of the door. "Sorry, I'm just hungry." He blurted out as he realized my subdued anger.
It turned out the humans had become inventive and changed our craftily simple designs that acted like a counter to our entrance curse. Instead of the obvious "Welcome" the mats in front of the doors we had failed to enter were supposed to spell out, they read stupid jokes like "Oh shit not you again" and "Whalecome". The last one was even shaped like a whale... | |
[WP] Vampires cannot enter a house uninvited. Turns out, they invented Welcome mats to bypass this rule decades ago. | "Welcome to Vlads Mats and Rugs, how may I help you?"
Ella looked bored, in her black eyeliner, purple shadow and spider earrings that hung from drops of silver. She tried to force a smile but decided against it because it wouldn't reach her eyes and she'd only freak out the customer.
"Hello, I'd like to buy... Actually are these on sale?"
"No ma'am only the items in the blue section are for sale this week."
"But I found this in the blue section."
Ella had to strain not to roll her eyes. 'one of these.' she thought.
"I apologise, but this item is not on sale. I guess someone placed it there by mistake."
"Don't you have a company policy? The customer is always right?"
Ella could feel her blood vessels surging. She thought of arguing but decided the better alternative.
"Sure. It's on sale. All you have to do is fill out this survey with your members card, you'll get discounts year round on all rugs, curtains and bathroom items."
"Yeah, that's what I thought."
The woman triumphiantly signed the digital pad with her name, number and best of all address. Ella smiled.
"Thank you for signing up. As a show of thanks we will throw in this free welcome rug."
The woman smiled wide, happy at being pampered.
"Oh! Awesome. Thank you."
"No problem. Thank you for being a member."
Vampires never killed their prey, that would quickly reduce the supply. Instead you simply turn them over and bite, the analgesics in the saliva would prevent them from waking or feeling the bite. But this one, Ella thought, was deserving of a nice painful bite.
"Hope to see you soon. And don't forget, to lay down your welcome mat."
Ella smiled, her boss would be happy. One more on the menu and she'd be happy. One angry customer getting what she deserved. A bite on the ass. | You'd think I would have learned by now. After the third time I was "put to death" for sucking some dude's blood in the park downtown you'd think I would have figured it out. But the problem with sneaking into people's bedrooms to feed myself is something the Governors came up with about 500 years ago. I was a fledgling at that time, but had come to enjoy the freedom of going in a window at night to suck a pretty virgin's blood. Although truth be told, there are many more ugly virgins than there are pretty ones. I digress. The interesting thing about the Rule of Invitation is that a lot more places, like inns and hotels, fall under the category of a house than you would think.
Luckily shortly after the rule was set in place, I had a remarkable idea and started to take up woodworking. In this endeavor, I set out to circumvent the Rule that had been set up for our kind. The original idea was based on a theory that if the main entrance had some sort of invitation implied, I would be able to enter any of the doors (or windows as I prefer) of the establishment.
So as I improved my woodworking, I began to sell doors and the like to the establishments I hoped to frequent for my meals. After the first wood burned "Welcome" sign I sold to an inn who wanted a diverse clientele, they started to sell left and right. The most amazing thing about this was that my theory was right, it allowed me to bypass the rule and I was free to make my feedings a more private affair again. Soon, it was common to see these signs on almost every inn for 100 miles. It became a sort of status symbol and I was the only one making them.
Word spread among my kind, few as we are, of the success I had with getting around this annoyance. Unfortunately, I had to travel quite a ways around the countryside to make sure the people staying at these inns would not get suspicious of my true intentions. The last thing I wanted was a rumor of dead people at the inn around the corner from my home. After all, it was typically my last resort in case a craving came over me when I hadn't prepared to travel.
Then it just so happened that I had even more luck in store. Individuals started to take notice of the "Welcome" signs at all the places they frequented. They started to equate them with a certain status. This led to a local rug maker being commissioned to make one for a patron's front door. Partially the reasoning I heard behind making it a rug was to be able to kick the dirt off before entering their home. But I was thrilled with this development. It just so happened the first commission was the local Mayor. This equated another kind of status with the decoration and prompted other individuals to follow suit in order to improve their social standing.
I'm sure you see where this is going, but my original handiwork insured that my brethren and I would have unlimited access to private properties in addition to the establishments we had already gained access to. No more feigning death while being strung up in the town square. No more public humiliation at the hands of these inferior beings. I could finally enjoy my meal in the peace and quiet of someone elses bed. | |
[WP] Vampires cannot enter a house uninvited. Turns out, they invented Welcome mats to bypass this rule decades ago. | Door to door. I am so hungry, but I force a smile on my face. "Hello, sorry to bother you this evening, but would you like to browse our catalogue?" I hold it open.
"Hm...they all say 'welcome,' don't you have any that have cutesy phrases?" They say back. I'm tempted to lie, to say we don't. I try nudging her to ones that say "please, come in," or other phrases of use to me, but there's no budging her, she wants one as a joke for her neighbor. Eventually, defeated, I accept her purchase of one "Ca$h me Inside" for $19.99.
"Could I measure your door?" I ask. It's a long shot, but I'm *so* hungry!
"Oh, please, do come in!" Fucking *finally*! | You'd think I would have learned by now. After the third time I was "put to death" for sucking some dude's blood in the park downtown you'd think I would have figured it out. But the problem with sneaking into people's bedrooms to feed myself is something the Governors came up with about 500 years ago. I was a fledgling at that time, but had come to enjoy the freedom of going in a window at night to suck a pretty virgin's blood. Although truth be told, there are many more ugly virgins than there are pretty ones. I digress. The interesting thing about the Rule of Invitation is that a lot more places, like inns and hotels, fall under the category of a house than you would think.
Luckily shortly after the rule was set in place, I had a remarkable idea and started to take up woodworking. In this endeavor, I set out to circumvent the Rule that had been set up for our kind. The original idea was based on a theory that if the main entrance had some sort of invitation implied, I would be able to enter any of the doors (or windows as I prefer) of the establishment.
So as I improved my woodworking, I began to sell doors and the like to the establishments I hoped to frequent for my meals. After the first wood burned "Welcome" sign I sold to an inn who wanted a diverse clientele, they started to sell left and right. The most amazing thing about this was that my theory was right, it allowed me to bypass the rule and I was free to make my feedings a more private affair again. Soon, it was common to see these signs on almost every inn for 100 miles. It became a sort of status symbol and I was the only one making them.
Word spread among my kind, few as we are, of the success I had with getting around this annoyance. Unfortunately, I had to travel quite a ways around the countryside to make sure the people staying at these inns would not get suspicious of my true intentions. The last thing I wanted was a rumor of dead people at the inn around the corner from my home. After all, it was typically my last resort in case a craving came over me when I hadn't prepared to travel.
Then it just so happened that I had even more luck in store. Individuals started to take notice of the "Welcome" signs at all the places they frequented. They started to equate them with a certain status. This led to a local rug maker being commissioned to make one for a patron's front door. Partially the reasoning I heard behind making it a rug was to be able to kick the dirt off before entering their home. But I was thrilled with this development. It just so happened the first commission was the local Mayor. This equated another kind of status with the decoration and prompted other individuals to follow suit in order to improve their social standing.
I'm sure you see where this is going, but my original handiwork insured that my brethren and I would have unlimited access to private properties in addition to the establishments we had already gained access to. No more feigning death while being strung up in the town square. No more public humiliation at the hands of these inferior beings. I could finally enjoy my meal in the peace and quiet of someone elses bed. | |
[WP] Vampires cannot enter a house uninvited. Turns out, they invented Welcome mats to bypass this rule decades ago. | Door to door. I am so hungry, but I force a smile on my face. "Hello, sorry to bother you this evening, but would you like to browse our catalogue?" I hold it open.
"Hm...they all say 'welcome,' don't you have any that have cutesy phrases?" They say back. I'm tempted to lie, to say we don't. I try nudging her to ones that say "please, come in," or other phrases of use to me, but there's no budging her, she wants one as a joke for her neighbor. Eventually, defeated, I accept her purchase of one "Ca$h me Inside" for $19.99.
"Could I measure your door?" I ask. It's a long shot, but I'm *so* hungry!
"Oh, please, do come in!" Fucking *finally*! | Aaron was not the brightest of vampires. His usual approach to the Council was apologetic at most. When he broke the rules (most of his daily endeavours) the Council continued, somehow, to retain faith in him. My latest attempt at convincing them otherwise proved to be a failure once again. "I'm so, so sorry guys. I didn't know he was going to, like, flip his shit when he came home." Sucking the life out of a human child? Not going to draw attention. At all. When his father arrives home from work? One would face the consequences. Not Aaron, who is impervious to any kind of consequence. An apology or two, and he's free to divulge our secrets once more. I think it became time to divulge a secret of my own. Or rather, Aaron would do it for me.
"I think you should turn yourself in."
"Turn myself in?" Aaron's eyes widened in fear, all signs of his usual arrogance gone.
"It would only be right, wouldn't it?" I gave him a wink and a grin. The idiot couldn't have formed his own full sentence if he tried. This would be easy.
"The Council has planned a takeover of the prison system. With the increased media coverage we've decided to be slightly more aggressive." I checked around me to make sure no-one was listening, and lowered my voice a notch just in case. "When you are arrested, convert the worst criminals you can find. Serial killers, gang members, child rapists... Together you will escape. If not, we will break you out."
His boisterous grin returned and he strode toward the exit with purpose.
"Oh and if they ask you questions, just tell them you got in because of welcome mats or something. It will be hilarious."
Vampires loved being mysterious, they didn't tell these newbies much.
That same night, the first media coverage came. Aaron in handcuffs being guided towards a police car. I was paying more attention to my bowl of cheerios than the interview, but I heard him answer a question with "Oh yes, we only drink human blood and we actually get in thanks to welcome mats!" After almost spraying milk out of my nose, I looked up to catch a flash of white teeth before the cop closed the door.
The Council, as expected, had finally had enough and the cop checked his rear view mirror at some point during the drive to see Aaron ritualistically executed and beheaded. I stepped out into the cold night air for a satisfaction cigarette and with a glimpse of the full moon I felt my spine tingle and hair grow in places it shouldn't. I pulled my eyes away. Within days any person with media coverage would remove the welcome mats from their doorways, denying access to human blood and greatly weakening the Vampire race. As a High Priest of the Vampiric Council I would see to it that this empire would fall, even if it takes thousands of years and more blabbering idiots.
Those pretentious bastards can suck it. | |
[WP] Vampires cannot enter a house uninvited. Turns out, they invented Welcome mats to bypass this rule decades ago. | [On mobile, will reformat later].
[Story complete, many fixes on the way.]
Melvin and Marlene had been living as a happy couple, roaming the Continental US as regular tourists, taking in all the sights to be seen at every city of every state, to occupy their time awarded them for just so happening to be century-old vampires. They could spin a yarn of stories so long that it could wrap up the Empire State Building as some sort of festive cozie. Or at least, they thought so. That's the next destination for this adventurous couple. The Big Apple. The sights, the smells, the food, the... *other* food... etc.
Having booked a red-eye flight to the big city, Melvin and Marlene were very anxious. Miami was a hot and, frankly, very sunny place. More sun means more sunscreen, and applying sunscreen by the handful every thirty minutes is a lot of trouble. Sure, brimmed hats make life easier, but how do you swim with one of those!? New York, New York was the perfect place to go. Further north, less sun, lower medical bills on account of burns. It's very hard to relay your medical history as a vampire. One can't exactly admit that their auntie Griselda has been prone to frequent fainting due to a change of diet in the early 1600's.
The young-looking couple shuffle off of their plane, make their way through baggage claim, and head off to their appointed destination. They had rented a small apartment for a few months because they could no longer make use of their minibus as a sort of "home base" in such a blustering metropolis. This traffic was atrocious, and parking meters are more tedious to pay off than a blood pact with a wendigo. The overpayed taxi driver drops the Caves off at the intended complex for their three month stay, and they make their way to room 101, the landlord's personal room. They knock, and a short lady in pink answers the door.
"Wowee, when you said late, you weren't kidding! Did the plane fly across the Pacific!?"
"Sorry, miss Anderson, we couldn't, ah, *afford* to take a day plane."
"What do you mean? Shouldn't day and night flights be about the same? And if you can't afford a plane ticket, what makes you think you can afford rent in such a city as this?"
Marlene didn't know how to respond. It's hard to apply sunscreen IN a plane, let alone bring it in her carry on through the checkpoint. She smiled nervously. And awkwardly. *Just drop it, lady!*, she thought. *You're making me incredibly uncomfortable!*
Miss Anderson seemed to get the point. She turned to the more silent partner of the Caves.
"You must be Mr. Melvin, I presume? Cat got your tongue?"
"More times than I care to count, ma'am."
She chortled. *What a strange man. What a strange* ***couple***.
Miss Anderson showed them to room 306, their designated living quarters for the next three months. A quick tour, and she was out. 3:30 am doesn't wear well on the older folks, and Miss Anderson was older than she liked to admit.
Melvin and Marlene looked around a while. Fridge, beds, sofa, TV, you name it, it was there. They were ecstatic. This was their first time to actually stay IN a city, rather than near one. Night flights were going to be so gorgeous, and watching the new year's fireworks from on top of a skyscraper rather than on TV or from the ground? Priceless. Marlene needed to get out, even if for just a few minutes. The weather was sublime, and if she flew high enough, she might even see the stars.
She told Melvin she was going out.
"Hmmmmm.... Go for it. I'm rather in the mood for a nap."
Marlene opened the window and jumped off the balcony. She fluttered towards the heavens, and dove into the ever-active city. It was like soaring through a tunnel of lights, a florescent valley. Exhilarating, haphazardous, and ever so gleeful, Marlene graced the skies with self-named "Woopdi Do's" and "Whirly Bird's." She had her fun, but she needed to get back home.
She lands on the window sill, and immediately realizes a problem.
"Melvin.... May I come in?"
". . . What do you-. . . Damn."
How exactly do you explain that you need your landlord to be the one to put a welcome mat on your balcony? | Matt was tired of his life. He was struggling to get a topic to research on. He was well known as the world's premier authority on Vampire studies, but that didn't satisfy him. He wanted to find the current whereabouts of vampires. Most of all, he wanted the answer to the greatest mystery related to vampires: their survival.
Vampires were mystical creatures that were physically superior to humans, yet looked the same. They were also generally cleverer than humans. However, they needed human blood to survive, and so had never been able to take over the world. Their magical origins caused another weakness: Vampires were unable to enter houses uninvited. The 22nd century had been one of mistrust, and Matt couldn't think of a way that the vampires could have survived that time. Recently, many prominent leaders of the world had been killed in their sleep, and the vampires had come forward claiming responsibility for the attacks. The world had scoffed at this statement, believing that the vampires could not enter the homes. Yet Matt couldn't shake off the feeling that thr vampires were telling the truth. And so he puzzled over the method of entry, and did not question the fact that the vampires entered the homes.
After months of research, Matt was very close to the answer. The killings of the leaders had continued, and the world was finally considering the possibility of the vampires being the murderers. Matt had been approached a week ago by various newspapers, who had questions on how the vampires had entered the house. Matt had studied each killing, and had concluded that there was no flaw in the security of the houses. As he went to sleep, the door bell rang. Matt was annoyed, but went to open the door. For security reasons, he had a dual door system, to ensure that he wasn't attacked the moment he opened the door. Matt watched the screen, and saw that his visitor was a well dressed man. As he operated the switch to close the main door, he noticed the welcome mat of his house. That was when a sudden thought hit him: What if welcome mats were a form of Invitation? If they were, the visitor could be a vampire. Matt switched on the infrared camera, and he could see that his visitor was not human. Suddenly, there was a thud on the door as the visitor reached the second door. Matt rushed to his bedroom, and turned on his laptop. He had to send this information to somebody before he was kidnapped or killed. As he began typing put the message, he heard the bedroom door crack open. The vampire entered in and spoke "Mr. Matt, I believe you have found out our technique to escape our weakness. You know, it was the grand vampire of my clan that popularised welcome mats. Now that I've told you this, I'm afraid I'm going to have to kill you. We believe that you are the greatest threat to us, and you proved us right today by guessing our secret.". With that, the vampire slit Matt's throat. As his eyes turned glassy, the vampire told him" Goodbye Matt." | |
[WP] Vampires cannot enter a house uninvited. Turns out, they invented Welcome mats to bypass this rule decades ago. | Following the path up the side of the hill had been difficult. More difficult than it should have been by far. The blood loss was really starting to affect him now. A half mile left? A quarter perhaps? He supposed it didn’t really matter. If he didn’t find a source to replace the blood he’d already lost.. was still losing.. it might as well be across the universe because he wasn’t going to make it.
How had it come to this? One such as he should have never been in this position. One such as he should have known better. Why had he risked it? He had been hungry, yes, but not starving. Certainly not hungry enough to risk attacking a hunting cabin with so many armed humans gathered together in one place. For Christ’s sake he hadn’t even waited until they were sleeping. He had just walked up to the door, saw the welcome mat and……….
| Matt was tired of his life. He was struggling to get a topic to research on. He was well known as the world's premier authority on Vampire studies, but that didn't satisfy him. He wanted to find the current whereabouts of vampires. Most of all, he wanted the answer to the greatest mystery related to vampires: their survival.
Vampires were mystical creatures that were physically superior to humans, yet looked the same. They were also generally cleverer than humans. However, they needed human blood to survive, and so had never been able to take over the world. Their magical origins caused another weakness: Vampires were unable to enter houses uninvited. The 22nd century had been one of mistrust, and Matt couldn't think of a way that the vampires could have survived that time. Recently, many prominent leaders of the world had been killed in their sleep, and the vampires had come forward claiming responsibility for the attacks. The world had scoffed at this statement, believing that the vampires could not enter the homes. Yet Matt couldn't shake off the feeling that thr vampires were telling the truth. And so he puzzled over the method of entry, and did not question the fact that the vampires entered the homes.
After months of research, Matt was very close to the answer. The killings of the leaders had continued, and the world was finally considering the possibility of the vampires being the murderers. Matt had been approached a week ago by various newspapers, who had questions on how the vampires had entered the house. Matt had studied each killing, and had concluded that there was no flaw in the security of the houses. As he went to sleep, the door bell rang. Matt was annoyed, but went to open the door. For security reasons, he had a dual door system, to ensure that he wasn't attacked the moment he opened the door. Matt watched the screen, and saw that his visitor was a well dressed man. As he operated the switch to close the main door, he noticed the welcome mat of his house. That was when a sudden thought hit him: What if welcome mats were a form of Invitation? If they were, the visitor could be a vampire. Matt switched on the infrared camera, and he could see that his visitor was not human. Suddenly, there was a thud on the door as the visitor reached the second door. Matt rushed to his bedroom, and turned on his laptop. He had to send this information to somebody before he was kidnapped or killed. As he began typing put the message, he heard the bedroom door crack open. The vampire entered in and spoke "Mr. Matt, I believe you have found out our technique to escape our weakness. You know, it was the grand vampire of my clan that popularised welcome mats. Now that I've told you this, I'm afraid I'm going to have to kill you. We believe that you are the greatest threat to us, and you proved us right today by guessing our secret.". With that, the vampire slit Matt's throat. As his eyes turned glassy, the vampire told him" Goodbye Matt." | |
[WP] Vampires cannot enter a house uninvited. Turns out, they invented Welcome mats to bypass this rule decades ago. | "It has to actually say Welcome. As amusing as 'You Better Have Tacos' is, it doesn't qualify'"
"But Why? How does that even work, isn't the idea of having a doormat fundamentally set the conditions by which entry is expected"
This was a standard argument between Shin and I, well in reality it wasn't an argument so much as an exploration of the systems by which our lives (or lack there of were governed).
"The Humans have it so much simpler", A favorite quip of Shin, "They can have infinite interpretations of their scripture, and none of it ties to any sort of arbitrary rule sets.".
"They can't eat pork or something"
"Sure they can, they just don't, have you ever tried to enter a dwelling with 'The dog must approve all vistors', you physically can't. How real can their rules be if they aren't tied to some sort of consequence"
"It's not like you need to commit a felony to get blood these days I mean you can just buy..."
"That's not really the point. It just seems..."
"Seriously, this is the 100th time we have had this conversation", I started to get annoyed, "It should just be nice to know that there is a set of rules in place. The Humans have no actual evidence of anything. The fact that you can't enter a dwelling if there is any ambiguity should be comforting if anything. It implies that there is in fact a structure, and purpose to our existence. You don't have to believe, you simply know, and you know that other entities exist as well."
"Huh? What do you mean"
"Well think about it, Our experiments show that intent of the external party is necessary. That's why just saying the words 'Come in or Welcome' isn't enough. Otherwise 'don't come in', 'you're not welcome' etc. would all work. Knowing that the external party has to intend to invite you in is key. Humans don't have that, they can't tell if anyone else is anything more than a figment of their imaginations, they aren't really 'I think therefore I am" so much as they are 'I think therefore something is'"
"Yeah but what you're actually saying is that we aren't anything other than 'You think therefore I am' as we're interdependent", Shin said. "Doesn't that mean that we are potentially just figments of their imagination?"
"Yeah but at least you know the 'they' is there, 'they' can represent god, the matrix, the universal force, whatever... anyway are you going to hog the O-neg or what"
"Here", Shin tossed over the the container, and I caught it and took a good long drink.
"Phew", I said putting down the container, "One thing I'll say for 'they', their blood is top notch"
"Yeah, just wish 'they' weren't quite such officious bureaucrats", Shin Remarked.
"Could be worse" I said "at least we don't randomly turn into dogs whenever the moon's out." | Matt was tired of his life. He was struggling to get a topic to research on. He was well known as the world's premier authority on Vampire studies, but that didn't satisfy him. He wanted to find the current whereabouts of vampires. Most of all, he wanted the answer to the greatest mystery related to vampires: their survival.
Vampires were mystical creatures that were physically superior to humans, yet looked the same. They were also generally cleverer than humans. However, they needed human blood to survive, and so had never been able to take over the world. Their magical origins caused another weakness: Vampires were unable to enter houses uninvited. The 22nd century had been one of mistrust, and Matt couldn't think of a way that the vampires could have survived that time. Recently, many prominent leaders of the world had been killed in their sleep, and the vampires had come forward claiming responsibility for the attacks. The world had scoffed at this statement, believing that the vampires could not enter the homes. Yet Matt couldn't shake off the feeling that thr vampires were telling the truth. And so he puzzled over the method of entry, and did not question the fact that the vampires entered the homes.
After months of research, Matt was very close to the answer. The killings of the leaders had continued, and the world was finally considering the possibility of the vampires being the murderers. Matt had been approached a week ago by various newspapers, who had questions on how the vampires had entered the house. Matt had studied each killing, and had concluded that there was no flaw in the security of the houses. As he went to sleep, the door bell rang. Matt was annoyed, but went to open the door. For security reasons, he had a dual door system, to ensure that he wasn't attacked the moment he opened the door. Matt watched the screen, and saw that his visitor was a well dressed man. As he operated the switch to close the main door, he noticed the welcome mat of his house. That was when a sudden thought hit him: What if welcome mats were a form of Invitation? If they were, the visitor could be a vampire. Matt switched on the infrared camera, and he could see that his visitor was not human. Suddenly, there was a thud on the door as the visitor reached the second door. Matt rushed to his bedroom, and turned on his laptop. He had to send this information to somebody before he was kidnapped or killed. As he began typing put the message, he heard the bedroom door crack open. The vampire entered in and spoke "Mr. Matt, I believe you have found out our technique to escape our weakness. You know, it was the grand vampire of my clan that popularised welcome mats. Now that I've told you this, I'm afraid I'm going to have to kill you. We believe that you are the greatest threat to us, and you proved us right today by guessing our secret.". With that, the vampire slit Matt's throat. As his eyes turned glassy, the vampire told him" Goodbye Matt." | |
[WP] Vampires cannot enter a house uninvited. Turns out, they invented Welcome mats to bypass this rule decades ago. | My shift is about to end, only one more minute. My boss flies above the mat manufacturing line and rings a bell. Everybody exhales nicely and we go home. The line bustles to an end and the materials are put away. Fur. Rubber. Shit like that. Shit to make mats.
My boss makes a killing off these mats because the best, most experienced and skilled vampires make a killing off of the blood they get using the mats compared to vampires who need to ask to come in, befriend, and then betray their new friends when everybody goes to sleep. These other guys only have to come during the day as a mat salesman and come back later after he's taken a shit or gotten lunch. Then he drains his patrons, resells the blood for profit, gets a real human meal with the 20 bucks they score off the mat, and buys *another* mat. Fuckin geniuses.
The only reason the rest of us factory workers don't do what they do is because we aren't exactly "good at selling," or "people persons," or "human-like," or "can afford a suit, tie, and hat." Plus the mats are too fucking expensive for vampire money. Shit's like .001 on the dollar. We're basically slaves. Yet vampires. Somehow it works, stop asking questions.
This week I'm planning a heist because this week's paycheck won't be enough to pay rent. I know I should lay off the take-out food but I fuckin love me some panda express. What I'll do is wait up in a tree above old man jenkin's home, the only home in town without a welcome mat. Jesse Dentine is the best vampire salesman ever and has dibs on that house. But that doesn't mean he's good at defending himself. Before he reaches the door, I'll jump his cold-blooded ass and steal the mat.
Here I am up in the tree looming over the walkway up to the front door... I'm waiting and feeling a little guilty, but it's for the best because men who steal are desperate: at least that's my excuse. Here he comes. I gotta time this right. Oh fuck, if I fail i'll be found out and late on rent. oh fuck oh fuck just JUMP ALREADY.
I land on top of him, crushing him into the ground. He's fuckin *dead*. Oh shit, I'm a murderer. How am I gonna cover this up? I can't leave the dead body because then human's will find out about us and kill our economy. Can you bury a vampire? What if you don't bury it 6 feet under? Will he become a zombie? Nevermind that I gotta hop Jesse and I outta here before old man jerkins finds us.. because then we'll *all* be fucked.
| Matt was tired of his life. He was struggling to get a topic to research on. He was well known as the world's premier authority on Vampire studies, but that didn't satisfy him. He wanted to find the current whereabouts of vampires. Most of all, he wanted the answer to the greatest mystery related to vampires: their survival.
Vampires were mystical creatures that were physically superior to humans, yet looked the same. They were also generally cleverer than humans. However, they needed human blood to survive, and so had never been able to take over the world. Their magical origins caused another weakness: Vampires were unable to enter houses uninvited. The 22nd century had been one of mistrust, and Matt couldn't think of a way that the vampires could have survived that time. Recently, many prominent leaders of the world had been killed in their sleep, and the vampires had come forward claiming responsibility for the attacks. The world had scoffed at this statement, believing that the vampires could not enter the homes. Yet Matt couldn't shake off the feeling that thr vampires were telling the truth. And so he puzzled over the method of entry, and did not question the fact that the vampires entered the homes.
After months of research, Matt was very close to the answer. The killings of the leaders had continued, and the world was finally considering the possibility of the vampires being the murderers. Matt had been approached a week ago by various newspapers, who had questions on how the vampires had entered the house. Matt had studied each killing, and had concluded that there was no flaw in the security of the houses. As he went to sleep, the door bell rang. Matt was annoyed, but went to open the door. For security reasons, he had a dual door system, to ensure that he wasn't attacked the moment he opened the door. Matt watched the screen, and saw that his visitor was a well dressed man. As he operated the switch to close the main door, he noticed the welcome mat of his house. That was when a sudden thought hit him: What if welcome mats were a form of Invitation? If they were, the visitor could be a vampire. Matt switched on the infrared camera, and he could see that his visitor was not human. Suddenly, there was a thud on the door as the visitor reached the second door. Matt rushed to his bedroom, and turned on his laptop. He had to send this information to somebody before he was kidnapped or killed. As he began typing put the message, he heard the bedroom door crack open. The vampire entered in and spoke "Mr. Matt, I believe you have found out our technique to escape our weakness. You know, it was the grand vampire of my clan that popularised welcome mats. Now that I've told you this, I'm afraid I'm going to have to kill you. We believe that you are the greatest threat to us, and you proved us right today by guessing our secret.". With that, the vampire slit Matt's throat. As his eyes turned glassy, the vampire told him" Goodbye Matt." | |
[WP] Vampires cannot enter a house uninvited. Turns out, they invented Welcome mats to bypass this rule decades ago. | My parents were the sort of people who bought me a welcome mat as a house warming gift when I finally struck it out on my own. Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against welcome mats, they're fine. They're the sort of thing that you don't buy when you first move into a new place. So, it's not like I had one already. But, it wasn't really something I particularly wanted, or even cared about having. My parents had no idea, or didn't really care, what I might actually want. They just wanted to give off the impression that they're nice people who do nice things, just as long as it didn't require any work. So buying me a house-warming gift was part of standard protocol, even if it was something I didn't particularly care for.
I looked at it after I unwrapped it, it was so generic. It didn't even reflect anything about my style or interests. Just a gray mat with the word "Welcome" on it. I tried my best to smile and thank my parents, "Oh, thank you. I didn't have one of these already."
My mom smiled back at me, "Now we can come and visit you any time we want."
I looked back at her, puzzled. My dad answered my puzzled expression, "... because it says 'Welcome'." *Yes, very funny, dad.*
I thanked them again as their visit grew towards an end, and ushered them out. As we walked out the door together, I set the mat outside the door. I was glad I wouldn't be seeing them again for a while, but on the off-chance they would come to visit me, I wanted them to see I was using their gift.
But, I didn't get the once-in-a-while visits I was hoping for. They kept finding excuses to come and visit me. They wanted to make sure my fire alarms were in working order, or that my sink wasn't leaking, or that my shower floor wasn't too slippery. They wanted to come over to tell me about the latest crazy gossip they heard. They would complain about drama-filled lives, or complain that I wasn't calling them often enough. It just got more and more frequent the longer I lived away from home. They even started coming around at odd hours of the night.
Finally, one time I came home, and my mom was there adjusting the furniture. I stared at her in disbelief, in front of the still-open door, as she nattered something about how I should really not have the TV across from the window. "... you would get a much better picture without all that glare..."
"Mom," I said as I continued staring. I honestly didn't even know how she got in. "What are you doing here?"
She stared back at me, with hurt eyes. "What? Is your own mother not allowed to visit? I didn't realize I wasn't welcome here." Then she started to cry.
I immediately reacted by consoling her, "No, you're fine mom. Of course you're allowed to visit."
Her tears instantly vanished, and she went back to rearranging my furniture. I walked back out the door enraged. As I walked out fuming, I thought about what vampires my parents were. Then, I saw that stupid welcome mat still sitting there. I kicked it in frustration. But, after I kicked it, I saw something gold sticking out from underneath it.
Under my welcome mat, there was a key. | Matt was tired of his life. He was struggling to get a topic to research on. He was well known as the world's premier authority on Vampire studies, but that didn't satisfy him. He wanted to find the current whereabouts of vampires. Most of all, he wanted the answer to the greatest mystery related to vampires: their survival.
Vampires were mystical creatures that were physically superior to humans, yet looked the same. They were also generally cleverer than humans. However, they needed human blood to survive, and so had never been able to take over the world. Their magical origins caused another weakness: Vampires were unable to enter houses uninvited. The 22nd century had been one of mistrust, and Matt couldn't think of a way that the vampires could have survived that time. Recently, many prominent leaders of the world had been killed in their sleep, and the vampires had come forward claiming responsibility for the attacks. The world had scoffed at this statement, believing that the vampires could not enter the homes. Yet Matt couldn't shake off the feeling that thr vampires were telling the truth. And so he puzzled over the method of entry, and did not question the fact that the vampires entered the homes.
After months of research, Matt was very close to the answer. The killings of the leaders had continued, and the world was finally considering the possibility of the vampires being the murderers. Matt had been approached a week ago by various newspapers, who had questions on how the vampires had entered the house. Matt had studied each killing, and had concluded that there was no flaw in the security of the houses. As he went to sleep, the door bell rang. Matt was annoyed, but went to open the door. For security reasons, he had a dual door system, to ensure that he wasn't attacked the moment he opened the door. Matt watched the screen, and saw that his visitor was a well dressed man. As he operated the switch to close the main door, he noticed the welcome mat of his house. That was when a sudden thought hit him: What if welcome mats were a form of Invitation? If they were, the visitor could be a vampire. Matt switched on the infrared camera, and he could see that his visitor was not human. Suddenly, there was a thud on the door as the visitor reached the second door. Matt rushed to his bedroom, and turned on his laptop. He had to send this information to somebody before he was kidnapped or killed. As he began typing put the message, he heard the bedroom door crack open. The vampire entered in and spoke "Mr. Matt, I believe you have found out our technique to escape our weakness. You know, it was the grand vampire of my clan that popularised welcome mats. Now that I've told you this, I'm afraid I'm going to have to kill you. We believe that you are the greatest threat to us, and you proved us right today by guessing our secret.". With that, the vampire slit Matt's throat. As his eyes turned glassy, the vampire told him" Goodbye Matt." | |
[WP] Vampires cannot enter a house uninvited. Turns out, they invented Welcome mats to bypass this rule decades ago. | "Good evening-" He said. He barely had time for another word as the door was once again slammed in his face. Undeterred, he knocked again, a little more persistently this time.
"Go away!" came the muffled reply from inside.
"Please, I just -". He sighed and rubbed the pale grey skin of his forehead with the back of his hand.
He leaned into the door, listening for the quickening heartbeat which echoed through the wooden door. It sounded delicious. But now was not the time for that. He was determined and relentless.
"I won't ask again. Please let me in. I just want to talk to you." He whispered, knowing his haunting voice would carry through the cracks in the heavy oak door and float like will'o'the wisps inside her head. She shook her head tearfully and put her hands over her ears, as if that would make some sort of difference.
" You leave me no choice. I'm sorry." He sighed as he put down the heavy leather suitcase he was carrying and clicked it open. He took out a rectangle of material and unfolded it, laying it flat an inch or so from the door. He pressed down on the contents of the suitcase and squeezed it closed again. Picking himself up from the floor, he observed the doormat he had just placed, grinning to himself, amused by its overly cheery 'welcome' message.
"Why, thank you" He smiled, bowing politely to the mat as he pushed open the door. Amidst the screams and panicked wailing he wondered as often he did, why it had to be so hard being a vampiric door-to-door salesman.
Disclaimer: this is my first writing prompt piece, hope you like it. | Matt was tired of his life. He was struggling to get a topic to research on. He was well known as the world's premier authority on Vampire studies, but that didn't satisfy him. He wanted to find the current whereabouts of vampires. Most of all, he wanted the answer to the greatest mystery related to vampires: their survival.
Vampires were mystical creatures that were physically superior to humans, yet looked the same. They were also generally cleverer than humans. However, they needed human blood to survive, and so had never been able to take over the world. Their magical origins caused another weakness: Vampires were unable to enter houses uninvited. The 22nd century had been one of mistrust, and Matt couldn't think of a way that the vampires could have survived that time. Recently, many prominent leaders of the world had been killed in their sleep, and the vampires had come forward claiming responsibility for the attacks. The world had scoffed at this statement, believing that the vampires could not enter the homes. Yet Matt couldn't shake off the feeling that thr vampires were telling the truth. And so he puzzled over the method of entry, and did not question the fact that the vampires entered the homes.
After months of research, Matt was very close to the answer. The killings of the leaders had continued, and the world was finally considering the possibility of the vampires being the murderers. Matt had been approached a week ago by various newspapers, who had questions on how the vampires had entered the house. Matt had studied each killing, and had concluded that there was no flaw in the security of the houses. As he went to sleep, the door bell rang. Matt was annoyed, but went to open the door. For security reasons, he had a dual door system, to ensure that he wasn't attacked the moment he opened the door. Matt watched the screen, and saw that his visitor was a well dressed man. As he operated the switch to close the main door, he noticed the welcome mat of his house. That was when a sudden thought hit him: What if welcome mats were a form of Invitation? If they were, the visitor could be a vampire. Matt switched on the infrared camera, and he could see that his visitor was not human. Suddenly, there was a thud on the door as the visitor reached the second door. Matt rushed to his bedroom, and turned on his laptop. He had to send this information to somebody before he was kidnapped or killed. As he began typing put the message, he heard the bedroom door crack open. The vampire entered in and spoke "Mr. Matt, I believe you have found out our technique to escape our weakness. You know, it was the grand vampire of my clan that popularised welcome mats. Now that I've told you this, I'm afraid I'm going to have to kill you. We believe that you are the greatest threat to us, and you proved us right today by guessing our secret.". With that, the vampire slit Matt's throat. As his eyes turned glassy, the vampire told him" Goodbye Matt." | |
[WP] Vampires cannot enter a house uninvited. Turns out, they invented Welcome mats to bypass this rule decades ago. | "So tell me about this 'little' theory of yours again Michael", Vince said with an air of amusement.
"It's not a theory, it's a fact. I may have been wrong about the fluoride in the drinking water and the Illuminati running everything but I know of a conspiracy that is far more sinister than aglets."
"Wait, what do you know about aglets? Umm, I mean... what are aglets?"
"Vince, they're the little plastic ends of your shoelaces. The shoemakers created them in a step of permanent, planned obsolence so that you'd have to buy more shoelaces when they break off and unravel."
"How many people believe this nonsense?"
"Not many, but that's not the main point here. Vampires created 'Welcome Mats' as a way to enter peoples homes easily."
"No, no you are mistaken. Vampires don't exist, but this mess about the aglets needs to be dealt with. Who else have you told about them?"
"Why do you care so much about the ag- you're one of them aren't you?"
"You know too much, my family and I make our living off everything surrounding shoes. DON'T FUCK WITH OUR BREAD AND BUTTER!"
*Michael Runs*
"Oh-ho-ho, a chase! Try your best, but I will catch you!"
"You're unreal, stop following me! I'm ENTERING MY HOME, YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED IN!" *cocks shot gun and moves back a few steps*
"How long do you think you can hide in there Michael? A day, a week, a month?"
"Forever, I can work from home and order everything through Amazon bitch!"
"Oh, I'll show you who's the b-"
Vince trips off of the top step and crashes into the entryway of Michael's home. Only...
"You're leaning on air like some kind of preposterous mime, what the-"
As Michael crouches down to look under the body suspended in mid-air, Vince spits at Michael.
"Tatami mat-flip!"
And with vigor, a mat that lay on the ground of the inside doorway of Michael's house deflects the spit, but flies out of Michael's hands while landing at Vinces feet.
"That was a bit undignified of me Michael, but I do thank you for granting me entry to your home."
"I've done no such thing, what just happened here?"
Vince easily steps over the mat that bears the characters:
ようこそ
"Yōkoso Weeaboo. Welcome to hell. You're right about everything, but what happens next will be open to interpretation for each of the parties involved." | Matt was tired of his life. He was struggling to get a topic to research on. He was well known as the world's premier authority on Vampire studies, but that didn't satisfy him. He wanted to find the current whereabouts of vampires. Most of all, he wanted the answer to the greatest mystery related to vampires: their survival.
Vampires were mystical creatures that were physically superior to humans, yet looked the same. They were also generally cleverer than humans. However, they needed human blood to survive, and so had never been able to take over the world. Their magical origins caused another weakness: Vampires were unable to enter houses uninvited. The 22nd century had been one of mistrust, and Matt couldn't think of a way that the vampires could have survived that time. Recently, many prominent leaders of the world had been killed in their sleep, and the vampires had come forward claiming responsibility for the attacks. The world had scoffed at this statement, believing that the vampires could not enter the homes. Yet Matt couldn't shake off the feeling that thr vampires were telling the truth. And so he puzzled over the method of entry, and did not question the fact that the vampires entered the homes.
After months of research, Matt was very close to the answer. The killings of the leaders had continued, and the world was finally considering the possibility of the vampires being the murderers. Matt had been approached a week ago by various newspapers, who had questions on how the vampires had entered the house. Matt had studied each killing, and had concluded that there was no flaw in the security of the houses. As he went to sleep, the door bell rang. Matt was annoyed, but went to open the door. For security reasons, he had a dual door system, to ensure that he wasn't attacked the moment he opened the door. Matt watched the screen, and saw that his visitor was a well dressed man. As he operated the switch to close the main door, he noticed the welcome mat of his house. That was when a sudden thought hit him: What if welcome mats were a form of Invitation? If they were, the visitor could be a vampire. Matt switched on the infrared camera, and he could see that his visitor was not human. Suddenly, there was a thud on the door as the visitor reached the second door. Matt rushed to his bedroom, and turned on his laptop. He had to send this information to somebody before he was kidnapped or killed. As he began typing put the message, he heard the bedroom door crack open. The vampire entered in and spoke "Mr. Matt, I believe you have found out our technique to escape our weakness. You know, it was the grand vampire of my clan that popularised welcome mats. Now that I've told you this, I'm afraid I'm going to have to kill you. We believe that you are the greatest threat to us, and you proved us right today by guessing our secret.". With that, the vampire slit Matt's throat. As his eyes turned glassy, the vampire told him" Goodbye Matt." | |
[WP] Vampires cannot enter a house uninvited. Turns out, they invented Welcome mats to bypass this rule decades ago. | "I hate this place" Maria thought as she stared out across the barren Transylvanian landscape. Leaning her head against the car window, misery tinged the blur of trees and rolling hills outside in grey. Nevermind that they were in fact mostly grey.
Not even her pulp novel, purchased by a penitent parent, could hold her attention. If only her mother hadn't taken this new job, hadn't taken them away to this land of perpetual twilight. The strangling of the engine ended her reverie. "We are here".
Her parents could have at least tried to find a less ironic house. Towering gothic spires, a yawning entrance into the shingled maw of an old Victorian manor. Even a lone raven hopping around the yard and croaking curses at the new tenants. "Dracula vs Wolfman" tumbled out of her lap and underfoot as she emerged from the car. After unloading she found it lying in the mud, spine broken.
When darkness fell, there came a knock on the door.
Two pale middle aged women, one holding a casserole and the other a parcel wrapped in brown paper, smiled tightly. "Welcome to the neighborhood!" the one with the casserole trilled. Her mom, who had answered the door, invited them in. "Oh, that won't be necessary" the other woman replied, handing her mother the parcel. "Please enjoy this blood pudding as well. It takes some getting used to, but it is a local delicacy and in time you will learn to love it." Maria hung back during this exchange. Something about the women seemed off. Perhaps it was the way they smiled. Without showing their teeth.
After they left, her mom unwrapped the package. It was a welcome mat. "Oh how thoughtful!" her mother exclaimed "See Maria? The people here are just as nice as in Pennsylvania". By the time her mother turned around after placing the mat in front of their door, Maria was already upstairs.
Midnight. The witching hour.
Maria woke up from dreams of dark shifting landscapes with an incredible thirst. She felt her way down the spiral stairs, clutching the banster to fight off disorientation from her concentric descent. The moon afforded just enough light for Maria to see movement in every shadow.
Finally in the kitchen, she grabbed a glass from one of the many cardboard boxes stacked along the walls. Water gushed from the ancient pipes into her cup. She gulped it greedily, some dribbling down her chin, although it had an unpleasant metallic taste. Grimacing, she filled the cup again and turned back to her room.
A figure loomed on the opposite side of the kitchen table, swallowing what little light was left in the room. Maria dropped the glass, shattering it on the ground. "Whwhwhat are you doing here?" She took a step back, too fearful to notice the broken glass piercing her bare feet.
"The same as you my child, a drink".
| Matt was tired of his life. He was struggling to get a topic to research on. He was well known as the world's premier authority on Vampire studies, but that didn't satisfy him. He wanted to find the current whereabouts of vampires. Most of all, he wanted the answer to the greatest mystery related to vampires: their survival.
Vampires were mystical creatures that were physically superior to humans, yet looked the same. They were also generally cleverer than humans. However, they needed human blood to survive, and so had never been able to take over the world. Their magical origins caused another weakness: Vampires were unable to enter houses uninvited. The 22nd century had been one of mistrust, and Matt couldn't think of a way that the vampires could have survived that time. Recently, many prominent leaders of the world had been killed in their sleep, and the vampires had come forward claiming responsibility for the attacks. The world had scoffed at this statement, believing that the vampires could not enter the homes. Yet Matt couldn't shake off the feeling that thr vampires were telling the truth. And so he puzzled over the method of entry, and did not question the fact that the vampires entered the homes.
After months of research, Matt was very close to the answer. The killings of the leaders had continued, and the world was finally considering the possibility of the vampires being the murderers. Matt had been approached a week ago by various newspapers, who had questions on how the vampires had entered the house. Matt had studied each killing, and had concluded that there was no flaw in the security of the houses. As he went to sleep, the door bell rang. Matt was annoyed, but went to open the door. For security reasons, he had a dual door system, to ensure that he wasn't attacked the moment he opened the door. Matt watched the screen, and saw that his visitor was a well dressed man. As he operated the switch to close the main door, he noticed the welcome mat of his house. That was when a sudden thought hit him: What if welcome mats were a form of Invitation? If they were, the visitor could be a vampire. Matt switched on the infrared camera, and he could see that his visitor was not human. Suddenly, there was a thud on the door as the visitor reached the second door. Matt rushed to his bedroom, and turned on his laptop. He had to send this information to somebody before he was kidnapped or killed. As he began typing put the message, he heard the bedroom door crack open. The vampire entered in and spoke "Mr. Matt, I believe you have found out our technique to escape our weakness. You know, it was the grand vampire of my clan that popularised welcome mats. Now that I've told you this, I'm afraid I'm going to have to kill you. We believe that you are the greatest threat to us, and you proved us right today by guessing our secret.". With that, the vampire slit Matt's throat. As his eyes turned glassy, the vampire told him" Goodbye Matt." | |
[WP] Vampires cannot enter a house uninvited. Turns out, they invented Welcome mats to bypass this rule decades ago. | "That has got to be, without a shadow of a doubt, the dumbest fucking thing I have ever heard."
Sergeant Barnes stood waiting for the coffee machine to finish making noise. Beside him stood Police Constable Williams, with a report in-hand.
"But it has to be the case, sir. There's no other possible connection."
"No other connection *that you can find*."
"Sir, how many victims have there been so far? Seventeen? Eighteen?"
"At least twenty," Barnes replied, as he checked his coat pockets for cigarettes. "Bloodwork suggests there's more than we originally thought. What's your point?"
"My point is that there's no other correlation between them. Do you not think it's odd that there are never any signs of forced entry, given the condition of the bodies?"
"I don't think the killer is choosing his victims because they have a fucking welcome mat."
"To be honest, I'm not too sure of that either. But we're obviously dealing with a complete nutter, so I think it might be worth considering. Maybe he really hates welcome mats."
Barnes let out a short groan. "Fine, I'll read it. *If* you go around the corner and get me some cigs. I've run out."
Williams glanced at the clock above the door (8:37am), then promptly obliged.
With the report and morning coffee in-hand, Barnes walked over to his desk. He waited until he could see Williams in the street through the nearby window, then chuckled as he dropped the report into the bin.
The welcome mat killer. He had now officially heard it all. Williams was a promising young officer, but he could be a real idiot sometimes. | Matt was tired of his life. He was struggling to get a topic to research on. He was well known as the world's premier authority on Vampire studies, but that didn't satisfy him. He wanted to find the current whereabouts of vampires. Most of all, he wanted the answer to the greatest mystery related to vampires: their survival.
Vampires were mystical creatures that were physically superior to humans, yet looked the same. They were also generally cleverer than humans. However, they needed human blood to survive, and so had never been able to take over the world. Their magical origins caused another weakness: Vampires were unable to enter houses uninvited. The 22nd century had been one of mistrust, and Matt couldn't think of a way that the vampires could have survived that time. Recently, many prominent leaders of the world had been killed in their sleep, and the vampires had come forward claiming responsibility for the attacks. The world had scoffed at this statement, believing that the vampires could not enter the homes. Yet Matt couldn't shake off the feeling that thr vampires were telling the truth. And so he puzzled over the method of entry, and did not question the fact that the vampires entered the homes.
After months of research, Matt was very close to the answer. The killings of the leaders had continued, and the world was finally considering the possibility of the vampires being the murderers. Matt had been approached a week ago by various newspapers, who had questions on how the vampires had entered the house. Matt had studied each killing, and had concluded that there was no flaw in the security of the houses. As he went to sleep, the door bell rang. Matt was annoyed, but went to open the door. For security reasons, he had a dual door system, to ensure that he wasn't attacked the moment he opened the door. Matt watched the screen, and saw that his visitor was a well dressed man. As he operated the switch to close the main door, he noticed the welcome mat of his house. That was when a sudden thought hit him: What if welcome mats were a form of Invitation? If they were, the visitor could be a vampire. Matt switched on the infrared camera, and he could see that his visitor was not human. Suddenly, there was a thud on the door as the visitor reached the second door. Matt rushed to his bedroom, and turned on his laptop. He had to send this information to somebody before he was kidnapped or killed. As he began typing put the message, he heard the bedroom door crack open. The vampire entered in and spoke "Mr. Matt, I believe you have found out our technique to escape our weakness. You know, it was the grand vampire of my clan that popularised welcome mats. Now that I've told you this, I'm afraid I'm going to have to kill you. We believe that you are the greatest threat to us, and you proved us right today by guessing our secret.". With that, the vampire slit Matt's throat. As his eyes turned glassy, the vampire told him" Goodbye Matt." | |
[WP] Vampires cannot enter a house uninvited. Turns out, they invented Welcome mats to bypass this rule decades ago. | [On mobile, will reformat later].
[Story complete, many fixes on the way.]
Melvin and Marlene had been living as a happy couple, roaming the Continental US as regular tourists, taking in all the sights to be seen at every city of every state, to occupy their time awarded them for just so happening to be century-old vampires. They could spin a yarn of stories so long that it could wrap up the Empire State Building as some sort of festive cozie. Or at least, they thought so. That's the next destination for this adventurous couple. The Big Apple. The sights, the smells, the food, the... *other* food... etc.
Having booked a red-eye flight to the big city, Melvin and Marlene were very anxious. Miami was a hot and, frankly, very sunny place. More sun means more sunscreen, and applying sunscreen by the handful every thirty minutes is a lot of trouble. Sure, brimmed hats make life easier, but how do you swim with one of those!? New York, New York was the perfect place to go. Further north, less sun, lower medical bills on account of burns. It's very hard to relay your medical history as a vampire. One can't exactly admit that their auntie Griselda has been prone to frequent fainting due to a change of diet in the early 1600's.
The young-looking couple shuffle off of their plane, make their way through baggage claim, and head off to their appointed destination. They had rented a small apartment for a few months because they could no longer make use of their minibus as a sort of "home base" in such a blustering metropolis. This traffic was atrocious, and parking meters are more tedious to pay off than a blood pact with a wendigo. The overpayed taxi driver drops the Caves off at the intended complex for their three month stay, and they make their way to room 101, the landlord's personal room. They knock, and a short lady in pink answers the door.
"Wowee, when you said late, you weren't kidding! Did the plane fly across the Pacific!?"
"Sorry, miss Anderson, we couldn't, ah, *afford* to take a day plane."
"What do you mean? Shouldn't day and night flights be about the same? And if you can't afford a plane ticket, what makes you think you can afford rent in such a city as this?"
Marlene didn't know how to respond. It's hard to apply sunscreen IN a plane, let alone bring it in her carry on through the checkpoint. She smiled nervously. And awkwardly. *Just drop it, lady!*, she thought. *You're making me incredibly uncomfortable!*
Miss Anderson seemed to get the point. She turned to the more silent partner of the Caves.
"You must be Mr. Melvin, I presume? Cat got your tongue?"
"More times than I care to count, ma'am."
She chortled. *What a strange man. What a strange* ***couple***.
Miss Anderson showed them to room 306, their designated living quarters for the next three months. A quick tour, and she was out. 3:30 am doesn't wear well on the older folks, and Miss Anderson was older than she liked to admit.
Melvin and Marlene looked around a while. Fridge, beds, sofa, TV, you name it, it was there. They were ecstatic. This was their first time to actually stay IN a city, rather than near one. Night flights were going to be so gorgeous, and watching the new year's fireworks from on top of a skyscraper rather than on TV or from the ground? Priceless. Marlene needed to get out, even if for just a few minutes. The weather was sublime, and if she flew high enough, she might even see the stars.
She told Melvin she was going out.
"Hmmmmm.... Go for it. I'm rather in the mood for a nap."
Marlene opened the window and jumped off the balcony. She fluttered towards the heavens, and dove into the ever-active city. It was like soaring through a tunnel of lights, a florescent valley. Exhilarating, haphazardous, and ever so gleeful, Marlene graced the skies with self-named "Woopdi Do's" and "Whirly Bird's." She had her fun, but she needed to get back home.
She lands on the window sill, and immediately realizes a problem.
"Melvin.... May I come in?"
". . . What do you-. . . Damn."
How exactly do you explain that you need your landlord to be the one to put a welcome mat on your balcony? | Deputy Inspector Locke pulled alongside the curb outside of the back of his cottage home, the lights on against the dimming dusk sky.
He knew he was likely being unreasonable but he grabbed the brim of hat rough and threw his bag over his shoulder in a hurry. Locking the door remotely behind him, not waiting for the beep he reached his door. A quick twist of the key and he entered to the warm smell of fresh cookies. His wife said something softly from the kitchen.
“Why?” He wondered, “If I am this nervous, must I really believe the speculation from Fields?”
He stripped off his boots and set them beside the bench, he sat and sighed.
“Vampires aren’t real. If they were they would have came for me by now, they must know I’m close. The Stokers clearly would remove any threat to them if they had supernatural abilities, instead they are starting the litigation to remove him from the investigation.” He considered.
But the memories of those shriveled and clearly surprised partiers... and those children.
“Hon’, are you coming?” His wife called.
“Yes, dear.” He grunts and then snorts.
“Besides”, he considers, “a vampire clan couldn’t break into his home. If he really believed the superstition, they’d have to be invited in and all that nonsense.”
He shifts his mud-soaked boots to the side and pauses. He didn’t have to do this at the Timms home, he brushed his boots off at the door.
They had a welcome mat.
He hears something dimly while this occurs to him, the opening of the front door.
His wife’s voice, “Sure, he just got home. Come in...” | |
[WP] Vampires cannot enter a house uninvited. Turns out, they invented Welcome mats to bypass this rule decades ago. | My shift is about to end, only one more minute. My boss flies above the mat manufacturing line and rings a bell. Everybody exhales nicely and we go home. The line bustles to an end and the materials are put away. Fur. Rubber. Shit like that. Shit to make mats.
My boss makes a killing off these mats because the best, most experienced and skilled vampires make a killing off of the blood they get using the mats compared to vampires who need to ask to come in, befriend, and then betray their new friends when everybody goes to sleep. These other guys only have to come during the day as a mat salesman and come back later after he's taken a shit or gotten lunch. Then he drains his patrons, resells the blood for profit, gets a real human meal with the 20 bucks they score off the mat, and buys *another* mat. Fuckin geniuses.
The only reason the rest of us factory workers don't do what they do is because we aren't exactly "good at selling," or "people persons," or "human-like," or "can afford a suit, tie, and hat." Plus the mats are too fucking expensive for vampire money. Shit's like .001 on the dollar. We're basically slaves. Yet vampires. Somehow it works, stop asking questions.
This week I'm planning a heist because this week's paycheck won't be enough to pay rent. I know I should lay off the take-out food but I fuckin love me some panda express. What I'll do is wait up in a tree above old man jenkin's home, the only home in town without a welcome mat. Jesse Dentine is the best vampire salesman ever and has dibs on that house. But that doesn't mean he's good at defending himself. Before he reaches the door, I'll jump his cold-blooded ass and steal the mat.
Here I am up in the tree looming over the walkway up to the front door... I'm waiting and feeling a little guilty, but it's for the best because men who steal are desperate: at least that's my excuse. Here he comes. I gotta time this right. Oh fuck, if I fail i'll be found out and late on rent. oh fuck oh fuck just JUMP ALREADY.
I land on top of him, crushing him into the ground. He's fuckin *dead*. Oh shit, I'm a murderer. How am I gonna cover this up? I can't leave the dead body because then human's will find out about us and kill our economy. Can you bury a vampire? What if you don't bury it 6 feet under? Will he become a zombie? Nevermind that I gotta hop Jesse and I outta here before old man jerkins finds us.. because then we'll *all* be fucked.
| John Dongle stares out of a highrise, '*Huh, it's a full moon tonight.* He thought quietly to himself.
"How can we increase sale!?!" shouted Joana in a horrible shrill.
Silence quickly returned, engulfing the seminar room.
"We have other products to worry about." Milton's curt response, in his awfully familiar monotone voice, failed to aid their situation.
"This is serious." John Dongle replied.
Milton rolled his eyes "You are all too picky, too lazy or too cheap. There is always quality blood at the red cross, stalking prey at night is ***not*** hard, and there are plenty of people who still *have* mats."
Joanna, and half of the other the members blushed in embarrassment, refusing to meet his blank expression that after such a condescending response. The rest looked at him with spite, but could think of no response.
John Dongle turned to look at his subordinates and met Milton's gaze with the up most disappointment "Are you saying you you are incapable of increasing sales? If so, you should leave right now."
Milton, got up and began to leave "It's not worth our time, if you can't listen to reason then fire me. You have no legal right to keep me here and I will not quit."
He stopped, and in a seemingly patronizing voice he bowed and said "Good night, my king."
John Dongle yelled "***YOU HAVE NOTHING SO YOU QUIT!?! WE WILL HUNT YOU DOWN AND MAKE YOU SUFFER!!!***" It echoed through the building, the yell reverberating through each and everyone of them.
Milton stood, expressionless, genuinely considering whether John Dongle was being sincere. It was definitely out of character. Milton could not conceive of how a vampire could be so human. Alas, he new he had to go with the safest option. took off his coat, hung it and sat back down very robotic like.
The room was tense, no one said a word. Milton sat there, thinking. Everyone was locked on either Milton or John Dongle. Only Joana was switching between staring at Milton or watching John Dongle carefully.
"Well, what if we gave them out for free." his monotone response provided release from the tension of John Dongles threat and their situation but his blasé manner further infuriated everyone.
John Dongle laughed, "You should be the King of the Night."
Milton smiled, in what could only be described as a warm smile. Yet, this was the first time anyone of them had seen ***it*** smile. The temperature dropped, goosebumps, and then Milton responded cheerfully "Anytime Johnathan, anytime." | |
[WP] Vampires cannot enter a house uninvited. Turns out, they invented Welcome mats to bypass this rule decades ago. | My parents were the sort of people who bought me a welcome mat as a house warming gift when I finally struck it out on my own. Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against welcome mats, they're fine. They're the sort of thing that you don't buy when you first move into a new place. So, it's not like I had one already. But, it wasn't really something I particularly wanted, or even cared about having. My parents had no idea, or didn't really care, what I might actually want. They just wanted to give off the impression that they're nice people who do nice things, just as long as it didn't require any work. So buying me a house-warming gift was part of standard protocol, even if it was something I didn't particularly care for.
I looked at it after I unwrapped it, it was so generic. It didn't even reflect anything about my style or interests. Just a gray mat with the word "Welcome" on it. I tried my best to smile and thank my parents, "Oh, thank you. I didn't have one of these already."
My mom smiled back at me, "Now we can come and visit you any time we want."
I looked back at her, puzzled. My dad answered my puzzled expression, "... because it says 'Welcome'." *Yes, very funny, dad.*
I thanked them again as their visit grew towards an end, and ushered them out. As we walked out the door together, I set the mat outside the door. I was glad I wouldn't be seeing them again for a while, but on the off-chance they would come to visit me, I wanted them to see I was using their gift.
But, I didn't get the once-in-a-while visits I was hoping for. They kept finding excuses to come and visit me. They wanted to make sure my fire alarms were in working order, or that my sink wasn't leaking, or that my shower floor wasn't too slippery. They wanted to come over to tell me about the latest crazy gossip they heard. They would complain about drama-filled lives, or complain that I wasn't calling them often enough. It just got more and more frequent the longer I lived away from home. They even started coming around at odd hours of the night.
Finally, one time I came home, and my mom was there adjusting the furniture. I stared at her in disbelief, in front of the still-open door, as she nattered something about how I should really not have the TV across from the window. "... you would get a much better picture without all that glare..."
"Mom," I said as I continued staring. I honestly didn't even know how she got in. "What are you doing here?"
She stared back at me, with hurt eyes. "What? Is your own mother not allowed to visit? I didn't realize I wasn't welcome here." Then she started to cry.
I immediately reacted by consoling her, "No, you're fine mom. Of course you're allowed to visit."
Her tears instantly vanished, and she went back to rearranging my furniture. I walked back out the door enraged. As I walked out fuming, I thought about what vampires my parents were. Then, I saw that stupid welcome mat still sitting there. I kicked it in frustration. But, after I kicked it, I saw something gold sticking out from underneath it.
Under my welcome mat, there was a key. | John Dongle stares out of a highrise, '*Huh, it's a full moon tonight.* He thought quietly to himself.
"How can we increase sale!?!" shouted Joana in a horrible shrill.
Silence quickly returned, engulfing the seminar room.
"We have other products to worry about." Milton's curt response, in his awfully familiar monotone voice, failed to aid their situation.
"This is serious." John Dongle replied.
Milton rolled his eyes "You are all too picky, too lazy or too cheap. There is always quality blood at the red cross, stalking prey at night is ***not*** hard, and there are plenty of people who still *have* mats."
Joanna, and half of the other the members blushed in embarrassment, refusing to meet his blank expression that after such a condescending response. The rest looked at him with spite, but could think of no response.
John Dongle turned to look at his subordinates and met Milton's gaze with the up most disappointment "Are you saying you you are incapable of increasing sales? If so, you should leave right now."
Milton, got up and began to leave "It's not worth our time, if you can't listen to reason then fire me. You have no legal right to keep me here and I will not quit."
He stopped, and in a seemingly patronizing voice he bowed and said "Good night, my king."
John Dongle yelled "***YOU HAVE NOTHING SO YOU QUIT!?! WE WILL HUNT YOU DOWN AND MAKE YOU SUFFER!!!***" It echoed through the building, the yell reverberating through each and everyone of them.
Milton stood, expressionless, genuinely considering whether John Dongle was being sincere. It was definitely out of character. Milton could not conceive of how a vampire could be so human. Alas, he new he had to go with the safest option. took off his coat, hung it and sat back down very robotic like.
The room was tense, no one said a word. Milton sat there, thinking. Everyone was locked on either Milton or John Dongle. Only Joana was switching between staring at Milton or watching John Dongle carefully.
"Well, what if we gave them out for free." his monotone response provided release from the tension of John Dongles threat and their situation but his blasé manner further infuriated everyone.
John Dongle laughed, "You should be the King of the Night."
Milton smiled, in what could only be described as a warm smile. Yet, this was the first time anyone of them had seen ***it*** smile. The temperature dropped, goosebumps, and then Milton responded cheerfully "Anytime Johnathan, anytime." | |
[WP] Vampires cannot enter a house uninvited. Turns out, they invented Welcome mats to bypass this rule decades ago. | "Good evening-" He said. He barely had time for another word as the door was once again slammed in his face. Undeterred, he knocked again, a little more persistently this time.
"Go away!" came the muffled reply from inside.
"Please, I just -". He sighed and rubbed the pale grey skin of his forehead with the back of his hand.
He leaned into the door, listening for the quickening heartbeat which echoed through the wooden door. It sounded delicious. But now was not the time for that. He was determined and relentless.
"I won't ask again. Please let me in. I just want to talk to you." He whispered, knowing his haunting voice would carry through the cracks in the heavy oak door and float like will'o'the wisps inside her head. She shook her head tearfully and put her hands over her ears, as if that would make some sort of difference.
" You leave me no choice. I'm sorry." He sighed as he put down the heavy leather suitcase he was carrying and clicked it open. He took out a rectangle of material and unfolded it, laying it flat an inch or so from the door. He pressed down on the contents of the suitcase and squeezed it closed again. Picking himself up from the floor, he observed the doormat he had just placed, grinning to himself, amused by its overly cheery 'welcome' message.
"Why, thank you" He smiled, bowing politely to the mat as he pushed open the door. Amidst the screams and panicked wailing he wondered as often he did, why it had to be so hard being a vampiric door-to-door salesman.
Disclaimer: this is my first writing prompt piece, hope you like it. | John Dongle stares out of a highrise, '*Huh, it's a full moon tonight.* He thought quietly to himself.
"How can we increase sale!?!" shouted Joana in a horrible shrill.
Silence quickly returned, engulfing the seminar room.
"We have other products to worry about." Milton's curt response, in his awfully familiar monotone voice, failed to aid their situation.
"This is serious." John Dongle replied.
Milton rolled his eyes "You are all too picky, too lazy or too cheap. There is always quality blood at the red cross, stalking prey at night is ***not*** hard, and there are plenty of people who still *have* mats."
Joanna, and half of the other the members blushed in embarrassment, refusing to meet his blank expression that after such a condescending response. The rest looked at him with spite, but could think of no response.
John Dongle turned to look at his subordinates and met Milton's gaze with the up most disappointment "Are you saying you you are incapable of increasing sales? If so, you should leave right now."
Milton, got up and began to leave "It's not worth our time, if you can't listen to reason then fire me. You have no legal right to keep me here and I will not quit."
He stopped, and in a seemingly patronizing voice he bowed and said "Good night, my king."
John Dongle yelled "***YOU HAVE NOTHING SO YOU QUIT!?! WE WILL HUNT YOU DOWN AND MAKE YOU SUFFER!!!***" It echoed through the building, the yell reverberating through each and everyone of them.
Milton stood, expressionless, genuinely considering whether John Dongle was being sincere. It was definitely out of character. Milton could not conceive of how a vampire could be so human. Alas, he new he had to go with the safest option. took off his coat, hung it and sat back down very robotic like.
The room was tense, no one said a word. Milton sat there, thinking. Everyone was locked on either Milton or John Dongle. Only Joana was switching between staring at Milton or watching John Dongle carefully.
"Well, what if we gave them out for free." his monotone response provided release from the tension of John Dongles threat and their situation but his blasé manner further infuriated everyone.
John Dongle laughed, "You should be the King of the Night."
Milton smiled, in what could only be described as a warm smile. Yet, this was the first time anyone of them had seen ***it*** smile. The temperature dropped, goosebumps, and then Milton responded cheerfully "Anytime Johnathan, anytime." | |
[WP] Vampires cannot enter a house uninvited. Turns out, they invented Welcome mats to bypass this rule decades ago. | "So tell me about this 'little' theory of yours again Michael", Vince said with an air of amusement.
"It's not a theory, it's a fact. I may have been wrong about the fluoride in the drinking water and the Illuminati running everything but I know of a conspiracy that is far more sinister than aglets."
"Wait, what do you know about aglets? Umm, I mean... what are aglets?"
"Vince, they're the little plastic ends of your shoelaces. The shoemakers created them in a step of permanent, planned obsolence so that you'd have to buy more shoelaces when they break off and unravel."
"How many people believe this nonsense?"
"Not many, but that's not the main point here. Vampires created 'Welcome Mats' as a way to enter peoples homes easily."
"No, no you are mistaken. Vampires don't exist, but this mess about the aglets needs to be dealt with. Who else have you told about them?"
"Why do you care so much about the ag- you're one of them aren't you?"
"You know too much, my family and I make our living off everything surrounding shoes. DON'T FUCK WITH OUR BREAD AND BUTTER!"
*Michael Runs*
"Oh-ho-ho, a chase! Try your best, but I will catch you!"
"You're unreal, stop following me! I'm ENTERING MY HOME, YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED IN!" *cocks shot gun and moves back a few steps*
"How long do you think you can hide in there Michael? A day, a week, a month?"
"Forever, I can work from home and order everything through Amazon bitch!"
"Oh, I'll show you who's the b-"
Vince trips off of the top step and crashes into the entryway of Michael's home. Only...
"You're leaning on air like some kind of preposterous mime, what the-"
As Michael crouches down to look under the body suspended in mid-air, Vince spits at Michael.
"Tatami mat-flip!"
And with vigor, a mat that lay on the ground of the inside doorway of Michael's house deflects the spit, but flies out of Michael's hands while landing at Vinces feet.
"That was a bit undignified of me Michael, but I do thank you for granting me entry to your home."
"I've done no such thing, what just happened here?"
Vince easily steps over the mat that bears the characters:
ようこそ
"Yōkoso Weeaboo. Welcome to hell. You're right about everything, but what happens next will be open to interpretation for each of the parties involved." | John Dongle stares out of a highrise, '*Huh, it's a full moon tonight.* He thought quietly to himself.
"How can we increase sale!?!" shouted Joana in a horrible shrill.
Silence quickly returned, engulfing the seminar room.
"We have other products to worry about." Milton's curt response, in his awfully familiar monotone voice, failed to aid their situation.
"This is serious." John Dongle replied.
Milton rolled his eyes "You are all too picky, too lazy or too cheap. There is always quality blood at the red cross, stalking prey at night is ***not*** hard, and there are plenty of people who still *have* mats."
Joanna, and half of the other the members blushed in embarrassment, refusing to meet his blank expression that after such a condescending response. The rest looked at him with spite, but could think of no response.
John Dongle turned to look at his subordinates and met Milton's gaze with the up most disappointment "Are you saying you you are incapable of increasing sales? If so, you should leave right now."
Milton, got up and began to leave "It's not worth our time, if you can't listen to reason then fire me. You have no legal right to keep me here and I will not quit."
He stopped, and in a seemingly patronizing voice he bowed and said "Good night, my king."
John Dongle yelled "***YOU HAVE NOTHING SO YOU QUIT!?! WE WILL HUNT YOU DOWN AND MAKE YOU SUFFER!!!***" It echoed through the building, the yell reverberating through each and everyone of them.
Milton stood, expressionless, genuinely considering whether John Dongle was being sincere. It was definitely out of character. Milton could not conceive of how a vampire could be so human. Alas, he new he had to go with the safest option. took off his coat, hung it and sat back down very robotic like.
The room was tense, no one said a word. Milton sat there, thinking. Everyone was locked on either Milton or John Dongle. Only Joana was switching between staring at Milton or watching John Dongle carefully.
"Well, what if we gave them out for free." his monotone response provided release from the tension of John Dongles threat and their situation but his blasé manner further infuriated everyone.
John Dongle laughed, "You should be the King of the Night."
Milton smiled, in what could only be described as a warm smile. Yet, this was the first time anyone of them had seen ***it*** smile. The temperature dropped, goosebumps, and then Milton responded cheerfully "Anytime Johnathan, anytime." | |
[WP] Vampires cannot enter a house uninvited. Turns out, they invented Welcome mats to bypass this rule decades ago. | "I hate this place" Maria thought as she stared out across the barren Transylvanian landscape. Leaning her head against the car window, misery tinged the blur of trees and rolling hills outside in grey. Nevermind that they were in fact mostly grey.
Not even her pulp novel, purchased by a penitent parent, could hold her attention. If only her mother hadn't taken this new job, hadn't taken them away to this land of perpetual twilight. The strangling of the engine ended her reverie. "We are here".
Her parents could have at least tried to find a less ironic house. Towering gothic spires, a yawning entrance into the shingled maw of an old Victorian manor. Even a lone raven hopping around the yard and croaking curses at the new tenants. "Dracula vs Wolfman" tumbled out of her lap and underfoot as she emerged from the car. After unloading she found it lying in the mud, spine broken.
When darkness fell, there came a knock on the door.
Two pale middle aged women, one holding a casserole and the other a parcel wrapped in brown paper, smiled tightly. "Welcome to the neighborhood!" the one with the casserole trilled. Her mom, who had answered the door, invited them in. "Oh, that won't be necessary" the other woman replied, handing her mother the parcel. "Please enjoy this blood pudding as well. It takes some getting used to, but it is a local delicacy and in time you will learn to love it." Maria hung back during this exchange. Something about the women seemed off. Perhaps it was the way they smiled. Without showing their teeth.
After they left, her mom unwrapped the package. It was a welcome mat. "Oh how thoughtful!" her mother exclaimed "See Maria? The people here are just as nice as in Pennsylvania". By the time her mother turned around after placing the mat in front of their door, Maria was already upstairs.
Midnight. The witching hour.
Maria woke up from dreams of dark shifting landscapes with an incredible thirst. She felt her way down the spiral stairs, clutching the banster to fight off disorientation from her concentric descent. The moon afforded just enough light for Maria to see movement in every shadow.
Finally in the kitchen, she grabbed a glass from one of the many cardboard boxes stacked along the walls. Water gushed from the ancient pipes into her cup. She gulped it greedily, some dribbling down her chin, although it had an unpleasant metallic taste. Grimacing, she filled the cup again and turned back to her room.
A figure loomed on the opposite side of the kitchen table, swallowing what little light was left in the room. Maria dropped the glass, shattering it on the ground. "Whwhwhat are you doing here?" She took a step back, too fearful to notice the broken glass piercing her bare feet.
"The same as you my child, a drink".
| John Dongle stares out of a highrise, '*Huh, it's a full moon tonight.* He thought quietly to himself.
"How can we increase sale!?!" shouted Joana in a horrible shrill.
Silence quickly returned, engulfing the seminar room.
"We have other products to worry about." Milton's curt response, in his awfully familiar monotone voice, failed to aid their situation.
"This is serious." John Dongle replied.
Milton rolled his eyes "You are all too picky, too lazy or too cheap. There is always quality blood at the red cross, stalking prey at night is ***not*** hard, and there are plenty of people who still *have* mats."
Joanna, and half of the other the members blushed in embarrassment, refusing to meet his blank expression that after such a condescending response. The rest looked at him with spite, but could think of no response.
John Dongle turned to look at his subordinates and met Milton's gaze with the up most disappointment "Are you saying you you are incapable of increasing sales? If so, you should leave right now."
Milton, got up and began to leave "It's not worth our time, if you can't listen to reason then fire me. You have no legal right to keep me here and I will not quit."
He stopped, and in a seemingly patronizing voice he bowed and said "Good night, my king."
John Dongle yelled "***YOU HAVE NOTHING SO YOU QUIT!?! WE WILL HUNT YOU DOWN AND MAKE YOU SUFFER!!!***" It echoed through the building, the yell reverberating through each and everyone of them.
Milton stood, expressionless, genuinely considering whether John Dongle was being sincere. It was definitely out of character. Milton could not conceive of how a vampire could be so human. Alas, he new he had to go with the safest option. took off his coat, hung it and sat back down very robotic like.
The room was tense, no one said a word. Milton sat there, thinking. Everyone was locked on either Milton or John Dongle. Only Joana was switching between staring at Milton or watching John Dongle carefully.
"Well, what if we gave them out for free." his monotone response provided release from the tension of John Dongles threat and their situation but his blasé manner further infuriated everyone.
John Dongle laughed, "You should be the King of the Night."
Milton smiled, in what could only be described as a warm smile. Yet, this was the first time anyone of them had seen ***it*** smile. The temperature dropped, goosebumps, and then Milton responded cheerfully "Anytime Johnathan, anytime." | |
[WP] Vampires cannot enter a house uninvited. Turns out, they invented Welcome mats to bypass this rule decades ago. | Vampires were a dying breed, once. The process of turning a human wreaked havoc on their bodies, and killed more than it saved. Technology was rapidly advancing in ways that it never had before; developing by its side was knowledge. Humans, those fragile things, were becoming wiser. Slowly, even for an immortal, but surely, they were learning.
It was when the head of Vlad of Wallachia fell down the steps of his ancestral home that the eldest among us recognized the issue. These humans, our only source of sustenance, would be the death of us. A council was formed, made of the oldest and most fearsome of our ranks. Vampires, ever the lonely hunters, were quick to rebel against this new authority. But the Council had time, and so they waited.
It took more than a century for the tides to turn in favor of the Council. The rebels were silenced by the humans, eventually. Each dissident met their end; some starved over the long hundred years, while some met their maker at the end of a stake. Our numbers were small, and our backs were against the wall. This was the world I was born into.
I watched as the Council planned. They schemed and they operated alongside the humans they used to terrorize so. Mankind was coaxed through a genesis of sorts, the Industrial Revolution. As technology advanced more rapidly, so did the population. Our numbers grew in strength, but the Council urged caution and stringent measures. Humans had to be minded, like sheep in a field.
And so we became shepherds of humanity. The Council had worked its way into every facet of human life, and had granted us the gift of free entry. Welcome mats are widespread and where they are not found, an ingrained politeness was our invitation instead. No establishment is barred to us, and no life sacred. A nocturnal lifestyle is acceptable, and pale features are fetishized. Gaunt, stretched features are prized above all, and blood can be bought and sold like any commodity (though it comes at a steep price).
The Council still operates, but its hold over my brothers and sisters has weakened. We are wily and young, and adapted to human life in ways they could never dream of. We have evaded detection thus far, though they remain hermits, afraid of the world they themselves created. But it is to them that we owe our lives; vampires were a dying breed, once, and now we control the world.
| John Dongle stares out of a highrise, '*Huh, it's a full moon tonight.* He thought quietly to himself.
"How can we increase sale!?!" shouted Joana in a horrible shrill.
Silence quickly returned, engulfing the seminar room.
"We have other products to worry about." Milton's curt response, in his awfully familiar monotone voice, failed to aid their situation.
"This is serious." John Dongle replied.
Milton rolled his eyes "You are all too picky, too lazy or too cheap. There is always quality blood at the red cross, stalking prey at night is ***not*** hard, and there are plenty of people who still *have* mats."
Joanna, and half of the other the members blushed in embarrassment, refusing to meet his blank expression that after such a condescending response. The rest looked at him with spite, but could think of no response.
John Dongle turned to look at his subordinates and met Milton's gaze with the up most disappointment "Are you saying you you are incapable of increasing sales? If so, you should leave right now."
Milton, got up and began to leave "It's not worth our time, if you can't listen to reason then fire me. You have no legal right to keep me here and I will not quit."
He stopped, and in a seemingly patronizing voice he bowed and said "Good night, my king."
John Dongle yelled "***YOU HAVE NOTHING SO YOU QUIT!?! WE WILL HUNT YOU DOWN AND MAKE YOU SUFFER!!!***" It echoed through the building, the yell reverberating through each and everyone of them.
Milton stood, expressionless, genuinely considering whether John Dongle was being sincere. It was definitely out of character. Milton could not conceive of how a vampire could be so human. Alas, he new he had to go with the safest option. took off his coat, hung it and sat back down very robotic like.
The room was tense, no one said a word. Milton sat there, thinking. Everyone was locked on either Milton or John Dongle. Only Joana was switching between staring at Milton or watching John Dongle carefully.
"Well, what if we gave them out for free." his monotone response provided release from the tension of John Dongles threat and their situation but his blasé manner further infuriated everyone.
John Dongle laughed, "You should be the King of the Night."
Milton smiled, in what could only be described as a warm smile. Yet, this was the first time anyone of them had seen ***it*** smile. The temperature dropped, goosebumps, and then Milton responded cheerfully "Anytime Johnathan, anytime." | |
[WP] Vampires cannot enter a house uninvited. Turns out, they invented Welcome mats to bypass this rule decades ago. | Once again, was I sitting there in the darkness. Hungry. Starving. The gossip was going around faster than my non-existing blood flow,. The mortals knew there were shady "people" around who would knock on the door with some poor excuse to try and enter the residence. Some lousy new-blood was captured and tortured for the secret of our brethren. The only way you could get work on the farms was if you were able to enter the house on the land. People were catching up, and more of our brethren were captured and executed. We needed to do something, so I started thinking while my stomach growled, echoing off of the walls. I needed to get invited in to be able to enter a house, that was the curse "Mr. Dest" cast upon us when he created us. The vampires don't like to write the history down, most of us can't even read or write, we are still doing it the old fashioned way. That means searching for any kind of rule book is out of the question. Once I get invited in though, I can freely walk in forever thats a fact. "I wonder if animals can invite us inside?" I muttered to myself before falling into laughter. "I wonder why we can enter businesses and establishments but not personal homes" I thought to myself before loudly yelling "Aha!". I started connecting the dots. All stores in town have a wooden sign that says "Welcome" or something in that variant. "I wonder..." I thought before rushing outside with the biggest grin on my face.
I had to test this! No way it could be this simple. It couldn't be, right? I ran straight towards the salesman of the town, he was a human but he was an ally, getting paid by the vampires for insider information. He didn't care much about us, his eyes only saw gold. In a way we weren't that much different, he would hurt and scam people for gold, we would hurt people for blood. Ah blood, just the thought of it makes me go mad.
I arrived at the store of the salesman. "Hiya, Darren!" I said as my eyes suddenly locked on that one particular blue vein that was sticking out in his neck as if it was the head of a deer that just heard something making a noise in the woods. "You up for making some gold?" I asked while scanning through his items, "Im looking for something people in the town all need. Something like a rocking chair for a porch, or someth..." I didn't even finish my sentence, because I had found it. I pointed my finger at the pile of empty brown doormats. "PERFECT" I grasped out of happiness. "Whats with the strange behaviour?" said Darren. I looked at him like I could murder him at that instance. I want you to paint all these mats with the word "Welcome", use white paint so it's easy to read and make the letters big. I threw a bag of gold on the counter and started waiting.
An hour later he was done, still with a question mark on his face. "I still don't understand why you wanted me to do this." he said as he sighed out of relief that he was done. "Shhhh, no questions" I say as I giggle like a little school girl while cracking my fingers. "Any customers who come in, try to sell them mats for a cheap price, you better get a list of the persons names who buy them and more of those bags will appear" He obeyed like the good little human he was.
The following day I went back there, feeling as ill as a dog who didn't eat anything for weeks. As if maggots were eating me from the inside out, the pain was unbearable. "Got the list for you, we sold out all of them". That gave me an adrenaline rush, as if I was a mortal kid again who just found a toy collection. I rushed out of there and checked the first name on the list. As it was a small town, everyone knew each other by name so that shouldn't be a problem. He lived fairly close so I rushed there. I noticed the welcome mat, even went up and stood on it, knocking on the door at the same time. "Hiya! James" I said. "I was close and was pretty thirsty, mind if I come in for a glass of water?". He opened the door but didn't invite me in, he waited for me to enter. I slowly lifted my foot and tried to step inside, and it worked. "IT WORKED!" I thought to myself. Making it hard for me not to laugh maniacally.
It worked | John Dongle stares out of a highrise, '*Huh, it's a full moon tonight.* He thought quietly to himself.
"How can we increase sale!?!" shouted Joana in a horrible shrill.
Silence quickly returned, engulfing the seminar room.
"We have other products to worry about." Milton's curt response, in his awfully familiar monotone voice, failed to aid their situation.
"This is serious." John Dongle replied.
Milton rolled his eyes "You are all too picky, too lazy or too cheap. There is always quality blood at the red cross, stalking prey at night is ***not*** hard, and there are plenty of people who still *have* mats."
Joanna, and half of the other the members blushed in embarrassment, refusing to meet his blank expression that after such a condescending response. The rest looked at him with spite, but could think of no response.
John Dongle turned to look at his subordinates and met Milton's gaze with the up most disappointment "Are you saying you you are incapable of increasing sales? If so, you should leave right now."
Milton, got up and began to leave "It's not worth our time, if you can't listen to reason then fire me. You have no legal right to keep me here and I will not quit."
He stopped, and in a seemingly patronizing voice he bowed and said "Good night, my king."
John Dongle yelled "***YOU HAVE NOTHING SO YOU QUIT!?! WE WILL HUNT YOU DOWN AND MAKE YOU SUFFER!!!***" It echoed through the building, the yell reverberating through each and everyone of them.
Milton stood, expressionless, genuinely considering whether John Dongle was being sincere. It was definitely out of character. Milton could not conceive of how a vampire could be so human. Alas, he new he had to go with the safest option. took off his coat, hung it and sat back down very robotic like.
The room was tense, no one said a word. Milton sat there, thinking. Everyone was locked on either Milton or John Dongle. Only Joana was switching between staring at Milton or watching John Dongle carefully.
"Well, what if we gave them out for free." his monotone response provided release from the tension of John Dongles threat and their situation but his blasé manner further infuriated everyone.
John Dongle laughed, "You should be the King of the Night."
Milton smiled, in what could only be described as a warm smile. Yet, this was the first time anyone of them had seen ***it*** smile. The temperature dropped, goosebumps, and then Milton responded cheerfully "Anytime Johnathan, anytime." | |
[WP] Vampires cannot enter a house uninvited. Turns out, they invented Welcome mats to bypass this rule decades ago. | "That has got to be, without a shadow of a doubt, the dumbest fucking thing I have ever heard."
Sergeant Barnes stood waiting for the coffee machine to finish making noise. Beside him stood Police Constable Williams, with a report in-hand.
"But it has to be the case, sir. There's no other possible connection."
"No other connection *that you can find*."
"Sir, how many victims have there been so far? Seventeen? Eighteen?"
"At least twenty," Barnes replied, as he checked his coat pockets for cigarettes. "Bloodwork suggests there's more than we originally thought. What's your point?"
"My point is that there's no other correlation between them. Do you not think it's odd that there are never any signs of forced entry, given the condition of the bodies?"
"I don't think the killer is choosing his victims because they have a fucking welcome mat."
"To be honest, I'm not too sure of that either. But we're obviously dealing with a complete nutter, so I think it might be worth considering. Maybe he really hates welcome mats."
Barnes let out a short groan. "Fine, I'll read it. *If* you go around the corner and get me some cigs. I've run out."
Williams glanced at the clock above the door (8:37am), then promptly obliged.
With the report and morning coffee in-hand, Barnes walked over to his desk. He waited until he could see Williams in the street through the nearby window, then chuckled as he dropped the report into the bin.
The welcome mat killer. He had now officially heard it all. Williams was a promising young officer, but he could be a real idiot sometimes. | John Dongle stares out of a highrise, '*Huh, it's a full moon tonight.* He thought quietly to himself.
"How can we increase sale!?!" shouted Joana in a horrible shrill.
Silence quickly returned, engulfing the seminar room.
"We have other products to worry about." Milton's curt response, in his awfully familiar monotone voice, failed to aid their situation.
"This is serious." John Dongle replied.
Milton rolled his eyes "You are all too picky, too lazy or too cheap. There is always quality blood at the red cross, stalking prey at night is ***not*** hard, and there are plenty of people who still *have* mats."
Joanna, and half of the other the members blushed in embarrassment, refusing to meet his blank expression that after such a condescending response. The rest looked at him with spite, but could think of no response.
John Dongle turned to look at his subordinates and met Milton's gaze with the up most disappointment "Are you saying you you are incapable of increasing sales? If so, you should leave right now."
Milton, got up and began to leave "It's not worth our time, if you can't listen to reason then fire me. You have no legal right to keep me here and I will not quit."
He stopped, and in a seemingly patronizing voice he bowed and said "Good night, my king."
John Dongle yelled "***YOU HAVE NOTHING SO YOU QUIT!?! WE WILL HUNT YOU DOWN AND MAKE YOU SUFFER!!!***" It echoed through the building, the yell reverberating through each and everyone of them.
Milton stood, expressionless, genuinely considering whether John Dongle was being sincere. It was definitely out of character. Milton could not conceive of how a vampire could be so human. Alas, he new he had to go with the safest option. took off his coat, hung it and sat back down very robotic like.
The room was tense, no one said a word. Milton sat there, thinking. Everyone was locked on either Milton or John Dongle. Only Joana was switching between staring at Milton or watching John Dongle carefully.
"Well, what if we gave them out for free." his monotone response provided release from the tension of John Dongles threat and their situation but his blasé manner further infuriated everyone.
John Dongle laughed, "You should be the King of the Night."
Milton smiled, in what could only be described as a warm smile. Yet, this was the first time anyone of them had seen ***it*** smile. The temperature dropped, goosebumps, and then Milton responded cheerfully "Anytime Johnathan, anytime." | |
[WP] Vampires cannot enter a house uninvited. Turns out, they invented Welcome mats to bypass this rule decades ago. | Earl and Helena pulled into the condo complex.
"I'm *so* hungry," she complained, tapping her long fingernails on the window.
"That's because you didn't finish that frat boy's blood."
"He was so drunk, I was getting tipsy! And I'm not 21 yet --"
He snickered. "Ah, such a sense of morality."
"Well, yes. Unlike you, I've never killed anyone. I'm part of the Veluvian Order, remember? 'Leave them alive; take just enough to thrive.'"
He rolled his eyes, and pulled crookedly into a parking space.
"Do you see any with welcome mats? Those will be the easiest. Don't even have to get invited in," he said, stepping out of the car.
"I know that, Uncle Earl. Geez." She squinted at the doorways. "There, on the third level, I think." She pointed to a brown dot on the threshold.
"Fantastic."
The two climbed the stairs. Earl huffed and puffed as they got to the final level. "Damn asthma," he said under his breath. They walked towards the door.
"Wait..." she said, trailing off. "This isn't a traditional welcome mat."
"What?"
"Look! It doesn't say 'Welcome'. It says --" her tone turned quizzical -- "'Hi, I'm Mat.'?"
He shook his head in anger. "No, Dammit! These stupid, 'funny' welcome mats --"
"What? You've seen these before?"
"Yeah. They're popular with the younger folk. Think they're being funny and witty and clever and all that. But they're stupid. And they don't let us in."
"Who even makes them?" She crouched down, and curled up the corner of the rug.
"Some kitschy designer who think's he's being *so* witty --"
"That's odd."
"What?"
"It's 'Buffy's Welcome Mats, Incorporated'."
---
r/CSDouglas | John Dongle stares out of a highrise, '*Huh, it's a full moon tonight.* He thought quietly to himself.
"How can we increase sale!?!" shouted Joana in a horrible shrill.
Silence quickly returned, engulfing the seminar room.
"We have other products to worry about." Milton's curt response, in his awfully familiar monotone voice, failed to aid their situation.
"This is serious." John Dongle replied.
Milton rolled his eyes "You are all too picky, too lazy or too cheap. There is always quality blood at the red cross, stalking prey at night is ***not*** hard, and there are plenty of people who still *have* mats."
Joanna, and half of the other the members blushed in embarrassment, refusing to meet his blank expression that after such a condescending response. The rest looked at him with spite, but could think of no response.
John Dongle turned to look at his subordinates and met Milton's gaze with the up most disappointment "Are you saying you you are incapable of increasing sales? If so, you should leave right now."
Milton, got up and began to leave "It's not worth our time, if you can't listen to reason then fire me. You have no legal right to keep me here and I will not quit."
He stopped, and in a seemingly patronizing voice he bowed and said "Good night, my king."
John Dongle yelled "***YOU HAVE NOTHING SO YOU QUIT!?! WE WILL HUNT YOU DOWN AND MAKE YOU SUFFER!!!***" It echoed through the building, the yell reverberating through each and everyone of them.
Milton stood, expressionless, genuinely considering whether John Dongle was being sincere. It was definitely out of character. Milton could not conceive of how a vampire could be so human. Alas, he new he had to go with the safest option. took off his coat, hung it and sat back down very robotic like.
The room was tense, no one said a word. Milton sat there, thinking. Everyone was locked on either Milton or John Dongle. Only Joana was switching between staring at Milton or watching John Dongle carefully.
"Well, what if we gave them out for free." his monotone response provided release from the tension of John Dongles threat and their situation but his blasé manner further infuriated everyone.
John Dongle laughed, "You should be the King of the Night."
Milton smiled, in what could only be described as a warm smile. Yet, this was the first time anyone of them had seen ***it*** smile. The temperature dropped, goosebumps, and then Milton responded cheerfully "Anytime Johnathan, anytime." |
Subsets and Splits
No community queries yet
The top public SQL queries from the community will appear here once available.