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[WP] You swerve to avoid a squirrel. Unknown to you the squirrel pledges a life debt to you. In your darkest hour the squirrel arrives. | 6 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"I am going to die here in the darkness, my only company; rats and creaking pipes.\nHow and why I don't know, the last thing I remember was walking through town when I felt a strange sensation in my spine and then I was here.\n\nIt's felt like eternity but I have no real way to know without windows you soon lose yourself in the swirling darkness and the abyss of time.\n\nI sat there thinking how or why this could happen, I had no enemy's or dealings with gangs why would they want me, was it just for fun?\n\n————–———————–———————–—\n\nSomething scuttled across the floor, most likely just a rat little did I know my life was about to change forever.\n\n'James!' A small shrill voice squeaked from the corner of the room.\n'Who's there?' I ask my heart pounding, ready to explode from the tension.\n'I don't have much time to explain but I am here to get you out.'\nMy manacles clicked and my hands broke free of these bonds that held me in place, I flex my sore wrist and tried to make out my saviour in the darkness and I saw nothing.\n'Too your right in the top of the room there is a secret button in the brickwork press it to release the catch on the passage!' My new ally squeaked.\n\nI did as instructed and felt for any lose brick on the wall and sure enough one pushed in, I heard a click and a crunch making out an small amount of light entering the room giving me fresh hope in a world were my life nearly ended.\n\nI was I instructed to crawl through and I found my self nearly blinded my the summer sun just outside a forts wall were I had been but my saviour was nowhere to be found. I called out softly and heard a squeak from my ankle, looking down I saw a squirrel and the squirrel said, 'sir we need to get out of here before they see you are out it may already be to late.' \nWe then ran through the forests for days and nights.\n\n————–———————–———————–—\n\nOn our third day of travel I had got aquatinted with my squirrel friend and he had told me of the great tale of the squirrel king and his wicked enemy's who had kidnapped me under the pretence that the squirrel king had the debt of his life to me, the evil cats.\n\nBut how did the king have great debt to me if I didn't even know of intelligent squirrel one week before? You may ask, well let me tell you.\n\nThe year before on an cold December morning, while I was driving to the work, the squirrel king was making his way to the battle of battles against the evil cats when I had driven down the lane this battle was held in, seeing the squirrel I swerved to the left hitting the queen of cats instead.\n\nFor this the king who nearly list owes me his life and the cats well they are thirst for sweet vengeance on my very soul."
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Or maybe just a hidden fourth evolution. | [WP] Humans don't grow gradually. We change in stages, or 'evolve' like Pokemon, from child to teen to adult. You just discovered a human Mega Stone. | 165 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"It wasn't my choice to bring it here. \n\nIf I had known better, I probably wouldn't have. But this was the first Human Mega Stone the world would ever see. And I was going to be famous!\n\n\"Blimey, Joe. It is what you said it is,\" Donnie said, patting me on the back. \n\nThe stone matched the picture on the hunting leaflet from Bear Grylls. The guy was a maniac wildlife expert that had been searching for this particular rock for the last decade. Who knew I'd find it right under my bed. \n\nThat's right, I woke up with this baby poking through the sheets like an egg.\n\nThe news cameras flashed. My parents and sister stood at the front of the crowd waving with big smiles. And then, as the crowd parted, the man of the hour made his way to the front. \n\nMr. Grylls himself. The greatest explorer the world had ever seen. He'd climbed the Niagra falls blindfolded, swam to the bottom of the Marina Trench without a swimsuit on, and even drank a pint of Goats piss because he couldn't be bothered pouring beer. \n\nThe man was the definition of the word wild. \n\nSeriously. \n\n\"Aye, lad, you've found the stone then have you?\" Grylls asked me. \n\n\"The Human Mega Stone,\" I said. \"Is it as beautiful as you expected?\" \n\n\"Lad, I've had dreams about this thing every night for the past 36,000 days. I've even got a blow-up version of it in the back of my car which I sleep with.\" \n\nI nodded, unsure of where he was going with this. \n\n\"And let me tell you something. Never in my life have I ever seen something as beautiful as this, baby.\"\n\n\"Right. . .\" I said. \n\nBear sniffed and wiped away the tears at either eye. \"It's so darn beautiful that I'll give you two hundred billion for the darn thing.\" \n\nMy jaw just about hit the curb. \"Two Hundred. U wot mate?\" \n\nBear Grylls whipped out a cheque from his back pocket, the i's were dotted, t's crossed, and the bottom line signed. Although, I noticed he didn't have any back pockets and wondered where he had actually been keeping it. \n\n\"I'll take it,\" I said. \n\nDonnie tried to interrupt me. \n\nI pushed him away and took the cheque from Bear. \n\nThe wildlife enthusiast kissed the stone and then the crowd parted once again as he carried it to his car. \n\n\"Joe, mate,\" Donnie said. \n\n\"No need to congratulate me, Donnie. I'm set for life and yes, I will cut you some cash. I can feed the whole damn town for a life time with this kind of money.\" \n\nDonnie shook his head. \"It's not that, Joe. The science report came through from downtown. Apparently, that's an old rock. It just happens to look like the Human Evolve Stone.\" \n\nHe handed me a piece of paper with random charts and squiggles on it. I looked it over and sure enough, it seemed like the evidence was true. \n\n\"How many people know this?\" \n\n\"Just me, you, and the scientists,\" Donnie said. \n\nDonnie looked at me, I looked back at him. \"Get my family,\" I said, \"and tell the scientists to burn the evidence. We'll pay them off.\" \n\n\"Aye?\" \n\n\"We're getting to the nearest bank and then high-tailing it to the furtherest place from here.\" \n\n\"It's Bear Gryll's mate, he's swum across the bloody pacific with his toes tied together. If he finds out. . .\" \n\nI grinned. \"Let's see him catch us in space.\" \n\n\n\n",
"    Ash Ketchum inspected the kidney stone. The coin-sized crystal shimmered in the bright Kanto sun. He had been staking Professor Oak's house for weeks, tainting his tap with high levels of minerals. Luckily the old man passed out forcing the stone from his body, allowing Ash an almost too easy obtainment of pubescent glory.\n\n    He stood at the edge of the tall grass. It was to be tall no more. He swallowed the crystal, squirming briefly at the acrid taste. Almost instantly he felt power coursing through his veins. His endocrine system went into overdrive, flushing his body with a heady cocktail of growth hormones. He felt as if he was being bathed in light.\n\n    And then as soon as it began, it was over. But Ash Ketchum did not feel older. In fact, he didn't feel any differently after all. What gives?\n\n    \"Ash Ketchum!\" came a shrill shout from behind. \n\n    The boy turned around to see his mother marching towards him with the deliberation of a locomotive.\n\n    \"Ash Ketchum, how dare you!\" she shouted. \"Your contract states you aren't allowed to grow up for at least five more seasons!\"\n\n    \"What?\" asked the boy, perplexed. \"What did you do!\"\n\n    \"I pressed the 'B' button to prevent you from evolving.\"\n\n    \"Aww, Mom!\" whined Ash Ketchum.\n\n    \"Now you go to Professor Oak and apologize to him this instant, young man!\" said the woman. A felid snaked its head from behind her legs.\n\n    \"Meowth, that's right!\"\n\n [CUE THEME MUSIC]\n\n I wanna be the very best..."
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[WP] In a world where medicine is forbidden as "interfering with fate", a serial HEALER is on the loose. | 209 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"\"Look, seriously I can't- I have to go!\" he said but all she could watch was his scraggly beard, her eyes were too blurry from his pills but she felt better. Her body had stopped aching and the heat had dissipated, only minutes after swallowing whatever medicine he'd stuffed into her drooling mouth. His face hazily disappeared as three tall red people pushed through her door.\n\n\"Where is he?! Ma'am, where did the Healer run to?\" One of the red men asked she let the pills take her away, into a soft easy sleep. The men scoured the house for any signs of this doctor. He was using out of date pills from eons ago to treat symptoms the government had other procedures to cure. From fevers and headaches, he prescribed these little pills called Tylenol, for infections he had an antibiotic he'd found in an old warehouse. The government would have dunked the feverish patients in cold water as they deserved for their weakness and the infection was burned out with a hot chain when the employees came into work. This man was a heretic, spreading lies about a different world before the third world war. He was a rebel.\n\n\"There's nothing here, there is never anything anywhere,\" George, the youngest of the soldiers in red said.\n\n\"He left more pills, she was given Tylenol and one of his strange antibiotics, he's been using them together more often,\" the commanding officer said, pocketing a bottle of the stuff. His nametag said Chris but they only called him The Collector. He stuffed any pill they could find into his suit and returned it to a hole in the ground outside of their barracks every night. The pills had killed someone in his family, or so the tale goes, he was after as many of them as he could find. \"Check her,\" he ordered.\n\nGeorge obliged, taking her pulse and shining a light in her eye. The girl was completely out; a helpful side effect of most of the doctor's medications. \"He has to be running out of pills. We've shut down all pharmaceutical companies in the region, burning them to the ground and each house from before the war was swept. Where is he getting them from?\" George stated.\n\n\"He's making them.\" George and his commanding officer, Chris looked at Turner, the new recruit. They'd gotten him from the middle of Kansas, he hadn't spoken much since he joined the sweep team last week. \n\n\"How? That isn't possible,\" Chris said.\n\n\"It's in the old textbooks. We have them, back where the bombs didn't land. Acetaminophen is Tylenol, essentially. It lines it all out for you- the chemicals wouldn't be hard to get. It's the only justification.\"\n\n\"He...he couldn't be...\" Chris turned away from them, pondering into the void that was this woman's home.\n\n\"We haven't found too many labeled bottles lately, maybe Kansas is right,\" George said.\n\n\"Just this powder all over the countertop. I assumed it was important but...we must stop him at the source. Report this back to camp, we need to find out what it takes to make these pills and cut off his supply of ingredients. Go, go!\" Chris shouted. The boys ran off to the convoy. Chris looked at the woman again, she was desperately in need of more antibiotics from his brother, he'd have to send more down that manhole outside of the barracks, possibly break into the army's warehouse to do it. \n\nChris needed to hide the powder somehow, divert the attention of that little farmboy, have him transferred or something, it wouldn't be long before his brother would need to resupply and pouring chemicals down a manhole was much less efficient than pills; they'd learned that the hard way. Chris looked about, no one was watching, he slipped the woman another Tylenol from his pocket before returning to the convoy. Maybe this discovery would give his brother some time at least.",
"Tonight’s the night. It has happened before and is going to happen again, and again and again.\n\nDexter felt the urge gnawing at him, in its knowing excitement that it would be let out soon. Letting out a controlled breath, he sublimated the feeling into a steady stream of focus.\n\n\n\n\nHe grabbed the remote, switching the TV’s volume all the way up and turned off the room’s lights so that the luminous tedium of modern day media could be observed by the neighbors. Softly, he hoiked up the duffel bag with the expertise of someone who had repeated the same procession hundreds upon hundreds of times. Within this bag contained the dark instruments - Syringes, morphine, antibiotics, IV’s, amphetamines and so forth – which Dexter employed to satisfy his depravity. \n\n\n\n\nHere he was: the notorious serial healer which authorities refused to acknowledge as real, as to speak of such a being was a terrifying prospect. But the people knew the legend and the streets spoke of him deferentially. A few did so with a malignant terror – believing in the institutionalized fear of medicine - but most saw him as a Robin Hood of sorts. Dexter reflected on this comparison, and it made him smile. He strode out the door with the confidence of a man with purpose, clothed by the layers of night that kept him hidden from passing eyes.\n\nAnd there she was, soundly asleep in the tangles of soft hair, pillows and blankets. She was only five, but the world had already condemned her to die. Dexter came upon this unfortunate creature while he was shopping for groceries last week. He spied the early symptoms – the slight chills that ran across her body, a tinge of the faintest shade of blue across the tips of her lips, and her shallow breathes – she wouldn’t survive if society would have its way. And indeed it would without his intervention.\n\n\n\n\nNow in the warm comforts of her room, Dexter gently laid down his duffel bag and opened it up. He placed a small humidifier on the carpeted ground, plugging it in. It winked a red light and began humming. Dexter glanced at his watch, squatted by his bag and with much dexterity moiled around, quickly placing bottles of pills successively across a nearby table - from painkillers to antivirals to antibiotics. Once the contents of the bag were empty, his fingers grasped a neatly folded piece of paper at the bottom of it and he stood up to face the door. The humming was getting louder now, and the stirrings of someone was audible. He gazed expectantly ahead.\n\n\n\n\nSuddenly, a woman dressed in a pale blue robe burst in, wide-eyed. Before she could scream, Dexter forcibly but gently pinned her against the wall, with a hand over her mouth. She could taste the plastic gloves. But in a hushed, pressing voice he said “She’s sick. If you want her to be buried at some squalid cemetery this time next week, go on and scream. If not, don’t talk, just listen.”\n\n\n\n\nThe terrified woman gave him a nod of reluctant affirmation after some consideration and Dexter’s hands slowly retreated. He offered up the piece of paper that detailed the regiment of the treatment to be used. The woman didn’t react. He stared at her and then coaxed open one of her hands, and pressed the paper against the exposed palm.\n\n\n\n\n\nDexter smiled a sad smile at her and then walked across to the bed, placing his hand over the small girl’s whip of hair. \n\n\n\n\n“Fuck fate” he muttered.\n\n\n\n\n\nAs he arched to climb down the window from whence he came, a fierce sense of deep remorse seized him. This intense feeling of distilled sadness and anger always squeezed at his heart every time his act as a serial healer was over. He knew that later that night, he would not be able to sleep with such a feeling within him. It was a feeling that was haggard and beaten down, a feeling that still longed for a different world despite knowing it would never come.\n\n\n\n\nDexter bit his bottom lip and stuck his head out the window, about to descend.\n\n\n\n\n“Thank you” pipped an innocent voice. \n\n\n\nDexter paused, unmoving. He beat down the urge to turn his head and respond, afraid that the floodgates of emotions that he didn’t allow himself to feel would be unleashed and drown him.\n\n\n\nHe bit his bottom lip harder until he could taste the flow of warm blood and wordlessly jumped down.\n\n\n\nEDIT: Spelling and some formatting and a lil content. I'd really appreciate any feedback!\n\n\n\n\n\n",
"\"And lastly, Pachinsky and Markov. You're on the Panacea copycat. Dismissed.\"\n\n\"Hell yeah dude, that's a high profile case. Up top!\" I said, throwing my hand up for Mark to high five. He considered the offer for a second or so before reluctantly complying. \n\n\"I have to admit, the case does look interesting.\" He said, a smile forming on his face as we walked back to our desks.\"\n\n\"I know right!\" I said, making no effort to disguise my excitement. \"I remember reading all about the Panacea Healer in the papers growing up, it was the *mystery of the century*!\" I motioned a headline with my hands for the last part.\n\nThe Panacea Healer, sometimes simply referred to as 'Panacea' had stayed ahead of official investigations for 8 years before they apprehended him. He was even a big factor in how this task force got approved, if you are to believe the press. \n\nAnd Detective Markov, or Mark as we call him around the office, had gotten himself in on the ground floor. He had been thrust into the spotlight after his spectacular arrest on the 'Eir' case, and as such the brass assigned him to the Bureau of Fate Interference or BFI for short. He was one of the few actual veterans you saw in our line of work.\n\nSo imagine my delight when I find out I'm assigned as his partner. A living legend working with a rank amateur like myself! Now sure, maybe I'm the greatest rank amateur in the history of rank amateurs, but it was still a great opportunity. We had only worked small time medicine smuggling up until now, this was our first healer case and I was more than a little bit excited.\n\n\"So what do we do first?\" I asked expectantly when we were seated behind our respective desks. \"Question the victims? Check out the crime scenes? I can have John from CSI here in 5.\"\n\nHe didn't even look up as he answered. \"No, we need to know what to look for before we do any of that. Try and see if you can find some ties between the victims instead. I'll fill in forms that will allow us access to the old case files, and then we'll cross reference that with the current case.\"\n\nDamn, I got ahead of myself. Every time I forget my inexperience, Mark's Wisdom puts me back in my place. Really goes to show how much work I still need to put in. With that in mind, I dove into the case files head first.\n\n\n\"Any thread connecting the victims yet?\" Mark said, as he walked to his desk and unfolded his umbrella. \n\n\"Nothing.\" I said throwing up my arms in capitulation. \"None of the victims share the same background, familial ties or even financial situation. It's almost as if they were specifically targeted to throw us off.\"\n\nMark smirked at that. \"Well, wallow in despair no longer apprentice, for the case files have arrived-\"\n\n\"-and so has yours truly\" we both said in unison.\n\n\"Didn't peg you for a Caelstrom reader Morgan.\" He said after a brief pause, looking pleasantly surprised.\n\n\"Guess I'm just full of surprises.\" I said, a shit eating grin on my face. \"Anyway, about those case files.\"\n\n\"Ah, yes!\" He said, throwing the files over onto my desk. \"Good news I think. I looked over them on the ride over, and to my surprise-\"\n\n\"-None of the victims are related in any way...\" I interrupted half-consciously while flipping through the documents in my hand.\n\n\"Exactly!\" He said in the most excited voice I'd ever heard him use. \"The Modus operandi is starting to overlap more and more with the original Panacea Healer! We know that he acts alone, when he strikes, and now who he targets\"\n\n\"So at this point we can assume everything else will line up, and work our way backwards.\" I contributed.\n\n\"Precisely! Now come on Morgan, I've a few questions I'd like to ask these victims of ours, and we've no time to spare.\"\n\n\"Yes sir!\" I answered, fetching my coat, grinning from ear to ear.\n\n\nThe woman we interrogated was staring at a point right in between us with the customary dead eyes associated with the Healed. I used to dread seeing those eyes because of the memories that surfaced, but in my profession it is a necessity and I spent hours in therapy for moments like these. \n\nEven still, we were short on time so I went to question the victims parents after it was clear my presence was not needed. I was talking to the victims mother about anything the victim had mentioned since the Healing when Mark stormed through the room, excused us, and signaled for us to leave. I barely had time to take a seat before we were already driving down the road at dangerous speeds. \n\n\"What's this all about Mark?\" I asked him once I regained balance. \"What did she tell you in there?\"\n\nHe just smiled at that. \"I know where he is.\" He said without taking his eyes off the road. \"I just don't know for how long, so we must get there as soon as possible.\"\n\nI fixed my eyes on the road, and suppressed a smile. I'd never been this excited in my entire life.\n\n\nMy head was pounding. Where was I? What had happened? Why did I hurt all over? I tried opening my eyes, and was met with a cloud of thick smoke picking away at my vision. I stated coughing, my realizing I'd been inhaling smoke, but that hurt my chest a lot more than is reasonable. Several broken ribs, at best. Shit. \n\nI could hear someone opening the door right next to me, and allowed myself a second to relax. Mark had probably gotten out on his end and was already helping me. What a nice guy, i thought. When I was laying on the soft grass, I finally allowed myself to open my eyes again. The night sky looked so beautiful, a particularly starry night to be sure. \n\nBut then I saw him. His eye were twice the size of a human, and reflected all light appearing completely white and radiant. His hair was cut short and entirely Teal, showing almost no separation between strands of hair. He was dressed in all white, except for on his chest where blood in the shape of a cross had been smeared. \n\nIt was him. Oh god it was him! I wanted to cry, to yell and scream and fight! But my body would not listen, and I could only watch in horror as he picked up the instruments that would subject me to a fate worse than death. I wanted to die. I wanted someone to, right there and then, put me out of my misery. But salvation didn't come. I was trapped. And as he leaned in, all I could see was that unnatural smile that reached from ear to ear and nose to chin, and then there was nothing.",
"\"Ouch!\" I hissed, as my finger dripped fresh blood onto my homework. I suckled on it, the spit acting as a natural painkiller. I went over to the kitchen to grab my hidden supply of bandages to wrap around the cut.\n\nI looked around in nervous anticipation, waiting for *them* to show up to \"monitor\" me. They didn't come, and I sighed in relief. I opened my cabinet quickly, and fished out a small box of band-aids. There was only one left, and I used it. Last thing I needed was having a long, stern talking-to behind bars. Heading back over to the living room with an empty box in hand, the T.V. droned off in the background.\n\n\"...and now with the nine-o-clock news. Just this morning, a reported individual wearing nothing but white and a stethoscope was seen about the Southern District...\" I took out my pocket lighter, and threw some kindling into my firepit, along with the box. \n\n\"...the man is armed and dangerous, he is equipped with sterile needles, and a PhD. Contact Health Insurance immediately if you are to come in contact with him. I repeat...\" I flicked the lighter a few times, before the flames sputtered to life. The kindling takes a moment to catch flame, but eventually the fire spread enough to erase the evidence. \n\nDistant, but audible sirens are heard as I stand up, and stiffen. Did they find me? It was too early! I shot to the curtains, waiting for the Health Insurance nuts to break down my door. They didn't come. I wasn't going to take chances though. Wincing slightly, I ripped off the adhesive band-aid and threw it into the fire. I hissed, as peeling off the bandage re-opened the wound once more. I could handle it. It wasn't *that* bad.\n\n\"...Health Insurance is currently in pursuit of the criminal. He is suspected to be around Helms Way, where H.I. have lost sight of him. Lock your doors, and let no suspicious individuals into your homes. Stay safe.\" Wait. Helms Way was... *my* neighborhood. \n\nBanging came from my door. Not the front, which was a *good* thing\". Because it meant that it wasn't those H.I. nuts. But that also meant that the one causing the commotion was either a *very* dedicated Jehova's Witness, who would sell off his \"Jesus is almighty\" spiel in the dead of night, or it was that doctor. I made way for the stairs, pretending as though nobody was there. The banging increased, but then stopped for an usual moment. I listened closely from the railing-\n\n\"1...2...3!\" at the end of the count followed a heavy bang on my back door, as the poor thing was ripped from its hinges. I didn't breathe. I didn't move. I didn't even *blink*. I stood there in horror hoping that the man would leave if he assumed nobody was home.\n\n Footsteps. They were getting closer. And closer. And closer. And clo- \n\n\"Did I hear... Someone say Ouch!?\" The man laughed, peering at me through the stair railings. I *screamed*. I backed away up the stairs, and as a result, tripped into an awkward, screeching mess. I was fairly sure that my legs were bruised now, but that was the least of my problems. Following my fall, the white clothed horror pounced me, brandishing illegal items: bandages, ointments, and by the gods that be- *painkillers.*\n\nSniffing about the air with his hands holding down mine, he stared with at my finger with a ferocious glint, seeming ready to devour me whole. With one swift motion, he rips open three band-aids, deftly wrapping each one around the cut at inhuman speeds. I sobbed, reigning myself to him, for he had soiled me. I wouldn't be able to go back after this.\n\nBut it wasn't over yet. On accident, he brushed by my bruised leg, and I let out a small yelp. He rolled up my pant legs, baring the skin for all to see. I tried to shake him off, but his grip was *inhuman*! It's almost like he was OD'd on vitamins, which I wouldn't doubt. Unscrewing the lid for some ointment, he smears two fingers in the jar, and coats it over where I'd been impacted the most when I fell.\n\nHe released me, packed up his things, and took out a piece of paper. He scribbled something onto it and left it on the ground, as he darted for my front door. I didn't stop him. I sat there in a sobbing mess at how *violated* I'd been. Sirens were heard in the background as a cascade of footsteps were approaching my house. I didn't care anymore.\n\n\"Second Secretary, secure the premises! Search this house up and down with your squad. Move, move, *move!*\" He picked up the piece of paper, and crumpled it into a ball, throwing it angrily at the wall. \"Damn it. *Another* prescription! That loony strikes again. This is the 5th one this month!\" He looked down at me, face expression of mixed pity and regret.\n\n\"Don't worry. You'll be ok.\" He pulled out his sidearm, chambering it. \"You'll be ok.\"",
"\"Dad! DAD!\" \n\nI tossed my windswept hair over my shoulder as I unfastened my seat-belt and bolted to my dad laying on the floor, key and door completely forgotten. It was breathtaking, seeing him bleeding out his color, laying misshapen on the floor and--No, he will be fine. He'll be fine.\n\nI blinked away tears that were stabbing the back of my pupils like spears as I ripped my jacket and tied it unprofessionally around his wound. Another gang uprising, another victim, and another reason I hated living in this area. \n\n\"No... I hate this entire world,\" I muttered, checking for a pulse. Thank God. It was weak, but there. The cellphone he used to call me lay broken next to him. Of course, he'd called me in his time of need. Who else would help him in an emergency?\n\n\"Dad... Dad, are you there? Can you hear me?\" I whispered. His eyes fluttered but he was in no shape to walk. I wasn't exactly an athlete myself. Both of us let out our trademark family groans (him because of the excruciating pain, me because I worked a desk job and I really was not cut out to carry an 58-year-old overweight man) as I tried, and failed, to carry him to my car. \n\nI unceremoniously dropped him and looked around in panic. Not a soul in sight. So this was it. This was the end for him and my family. My mother had gone out in a similar way, and since that day, I had sworn I would never live or work too far away from my dad. But what good had that ever done? \n\nI bit my bottom lip. Once upon a time, I used to take extra care to not injure myself, but now I refused to care. Soon, my tears mixed with blood as I sobbed into my dad's chest. In a few minutes, a few short minutes, I would be all alone...\n\nA siren. I thought not much of it. Maybe the police were doing their job for once. But it grew louder and I could actually see the blaring lights contrasted against the dark night sky. But why was the vehicle so big? Was it not a police cruiser, but a fire truck? Was it coming for me?\n\n\"THERE'S NO FIRE, YOU MOR...\" I stopped myself as it braked right next to my dad. It was neither a fire truck nor a police cruiser. What it was, I had no idea.\n\nBut out stepped a face I knew quite well. A face that was actually stamped on a wanted poster on a building opposite me. I was a really loud person, so when my speech failed me, I was even more appalled.\n\nHis dancing green eyes rested on my dad, then on me. It wasn't even for a tenth of a second, but it was the longest stretch of time I'd ever experienced. \n\nHe quickly sprung into action, and as though he'd done this a million times, has my father on what I thought was a really skinny table with wheels in his bizarre vehicle.\n\n\"Mind helping me?\" he asks of me, his eyes now cool and soft."
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[WP] You are incredibly good at social situations... thanks to the ever-changing background music that only you seem to be able to hear. | 43 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"I sat at the coffee shop with my fiancé Brooke. We had been engaged for about 6 months and were aggressively planning our wedding. Sure, it was stressful, but worth every second. The smooth jazz constantly empowering my internal presence assured me that every small argument we had over this matter was completely harmless. \n\nAll seemed well until Brooke's ex walked into the coffee shop (He had a brown vest on for some reason. Looked kind-of retro)\n\nAs the music remained the same, I assumed he was not going to come talk with us, or even see us with that matter. The ambience knows everything after all. \n\nJust then… out of nowhere…. the smooth jazz turned to the…. the Imperial March (I had never seen Star Wars. But I knew it from that Volkswagen commercial. Funny stuff) \n\nSomething was coming. It had to be Jerry. Stupid Jerry. He was going to come try to fight me and get Brooke back. I had to be ready. As the music slowly built up, Jerry noticed us.\n\nHe was coming our way.\n\nEven thought I was proud of myself for finally having my powers adjust to music used in the media, I had to act. I saw something shiny in his pocket too. This was all happening so fast. \n\nAs he got closer, he reached into this pocket for the shiny object.\n\n“Hey Brooke and-“\n\nBefore he could say any more, I decked him in the face. He wasn’t completely knocked out, but he was close. It was a good punch. I was proud of myself. It had to be done.\n\nA gasp came from the fellow coffee shop goers and the Imperial March stopped, and the smooth jazz came back on.\n\n“Dave, what the hell?”\n\nThe shiny object then came out of his pocket…. and it was one of those mints you get at coffee shop counters.\n\n“Brooke… the music… it was….”\n\nThe manager then walked up to me.\n\n“I can’t believe you started on a fight on Mos Eisley Cantina Night! You’re out of here!”\n\nThat is when I noticed the band. Shit. \n"
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1,
18
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"1474839333",
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If you don't understand what i mean think of Digimon Our war game by what i mean | [WP] Years ago a group of heroes banded together to defeat a great evil. Now many years later a new evil has emerged and plans world domination. its up to the heroes to stop them once more. But because of the passing time and history between then and now the heroes are weary to work together again | 2 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"The knight stood ready, his armor gleaming as ever. The mage walked up, wizened in his own age as he leaned on his staff. He pushes his hand up with his thumb, examining the young knight. He wheezed,\"Hello, Percival. Has anyone else come yet?\" Percival pushed his visor up, his gauntlets squeaking. Henrik, the mage, knew that they would be freshly oiled. \"Where is Amelia?\" The ranger had not come yet, the young woman was slightly older than Percival, and more experienced by far. \"Do you think its time, Henrik?\" He shook his head, feeling at his beard. \"I know what will happen. I always have. This is our last adventure, my old friend.\" He looked at him with his faded blue eyes. \"Are you sure, Henrik? This can't just be it, can it?\" He shook his head,\"I wish it was not, but I fear Amelia will not.. Well, you shall find out the rest later.\" They heard the familiar noise as padded leather hit the path, and Henrik closed his eyes. \"We shall not survive this time. The darkness has grown too great.. Oh, we were all fools. How ancient I was last it came, and how ancient I am now..\" Percival looked to him,\"Who could possess the power now? I know it can take anyone, but.. It's not someone close to us, is it?\" He nodded. \"It is, I have foretold it already. And, I believe, it is someone closer than you think.\" He gave him a faint smile, and looked deep into the fog. A face popped out of the mist, holding a bow adorned with runes. She walked, runes adorning her bow as she walked. Darkness covered her face underneath its hood, runes glowing upon her face. Percival stammered, he was but a boy when they journeyed together, and they had grown to be legends together. \"It cannot be!\" The man lifted his staff, smiling. \"So it is.\" Darkness shrouded his irises, and he turned, holding the staff in both hands. Runes covered his face,\"And so it goes.\" Electricity spat out of the end of the wand, and he turned, looking at the girl. She was but an illusion, he had disposed of her long ago. \"And so, the darkness is mine. It offered me the years, and I took them.\" He wept not, grinning instead. He felt a sharp pain his back, turning to meet two familiar eyes. A woman with a bow, she was not an illusion, though her pale face shown her to be little more than a ghost. \"And so the darkness dies with you..\" He felt another sharp pain pierce his check, and felt his heart become struck. He laughed, knowing that he had made a mistake then.. He had grown too ancient and foolish."
] | [
1,
1
] | [
"1474850522",
"1474855049"
] |
Bonus points if it's funny. | [WP] Write the first hand account of a traumatized skeleton or human during the skeleton wars. | 36 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"The humans were entrenched across the field, poised to fire their muskets at us the moment we came out of cover. Our force was five hundred strong, theirs a measly three hundred. I had my musket loaded and was in line for the initial charge towards the enemy, I glanced at my weapon which had my name engraved in the stock where it read \"Slim Pickens\". I skimmed the horizon, at my fellow musketeers, preparing to follow the swordsmen and spear men into battle.\n\nThe charge began shortly after, a hail of bullets taking down most of our front lines, I and a few other musketeers took shots at the entrenchments but to no avail. That's when the screams began. a large chunk of humans ran towards us with bayonets fixed, receiving covering fire from their fellow soldiers back in the trench, we had no cover and no time to retreat. most of the first charge fell in the initial barrage from the trenches the rest were picked off by either the covering fire or the bayonet wielding maniacs.\n\nI took out three humans before getting stabbed in the sternum, rendering me useless for weeks, I was commended for holding my ground and taking out three humans on my own. I received the Jolly Roger, the highest award a living skeleton could receive, I took the award and now I am being sent back to the front lines as a sergeant.\n\nThere are stories about how sergeant Slim Pickens commanded his men into battle while charging with them head on into the plight that was, The Great Skeleton War.",
"Projectiles zip by me as I propel myself above the ledge. I duck down immediately, as an arrow flies through the air my head was in. In no immediate danger, I allow the weight of my backpack to overwhelm me as I slink slowly to the concrete ground, covering my ears to block out that horrible sound. That neverending, eerie doots from the trumpet. I shut my eyes only to be greeted by my nightmares, the same nightmares that were tearing my unit apart behind me, causing my eyelids to shoot back open. \n\nThose bony, cackling skeltals came too fast. Too sudden. I shiver as I remember the long trains of terror easily crushing our thought-to-be-formidable armoured tanks. I remember watching helplessly as bony arms grabbed my comrades left and right and dragged them, screaming and struggling, into the wild ride of Mr. Bones. I remember the skeltals leaping out of their carriages charging at our lines, our machine guns completely ineffective against their calcium-enhanced bones. I remember—\n\nA long doot from a trumpet ripped me straight out of my thoughts, as I heard the shriek of a fellow man as he was brutally cut to pieces. No. I am a human. I will not go out like this to these bony sons of bitches. Grabbing my weapon, I propel myself above the ledge, back into the fray."
] | [
1,
2,
10
] | [
"1474886150",
"1474934821",
"1474888760"
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[WP] The best part of your day is using virtual reality to play as Janova White surviving a zombie apocalypse. The best part of Janova White's day are those few hours getting to live as Kevin Peters, a normal guy who likes VR. | 0 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"Janova sipped her coffee, smile tearing at her lips and the hot drink threatened to burn her. \n\nHer favorite shop took nearly her entire session to get to, but the place was worth it. A heavy brick wall was at her back, a deadend alley and a long high-vis street was all that was around. Few cars, and fewer pedestrians, no matter what time of day. \n\nShe tried to relax as best she could, but never stopped peeking toward the nearby fire escape, if it it may try to get up and leave her. \n\nShe looked at Kevin's cell phone, and it was nearly when he would stop for the evening. \n\nJanova didn't care, and had hoped he found himself whatever kind of peace in her world he was looking for. She hoped he would take the time to savor it, she way she savored his single cup of hot black coffee. \n\nShe pondered the possibility of other survivors as the owner of the shop came over. \n\n\"Here you go, here's a loyalty card. You keep coming here and never taking them.\"\n\n\"Oh, I'm sorry. We really aren't supposed to-\"\n\n\"I know. I know. Zero impact to the host. But I've seen that look before, back when wars happened in reality too.\"\n\nHe looked down again, but never finished his discussion. Janova didn't mind, and continued her coffee. She closed her eyes and inhaled the aroma deeply, even with a near scalding mouthful roasting her tongue.\n\nShe felt the tingle and sting of the transfer happening, and willed herself not to swallow. She was determined to savor this as long as possible.\n\nShe shoulder ached, and her arm hurt. Her legs felt like cement and her head swam. \n\nJust a few seconds longer. It felt like Kevin didn't have a good session, and she hated cleaning up his messes. \n\n*And she really hated getting bit.*\n\n"
] | [
1,
2
] | [
"1474911099",
"1474912148"
] | |
[WP] It is the year 43,002. You are the pilot of the spaceship Millennium Pigeon. Wherever you fly the ship, a terrible disaster happens. | 3 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"Ah yes, I guess you could call me a master of this vacuum we call Space. I've covered Joflienus to Iupra to Triea 717J. When I say cover, I don't mean like a blanket. No, I know this galaxy like a goddamn Encyclopedia. Yet, whenever I fly this damn ship, I always find disaster. I've fought Qleisteds in the Goz sector, I've bartered with a travelling band of Dyns, I've hit every home run possible brother. I've crashed countless ships, I've escaped multiple assassination e-\n\nWRRRRRRRRRRRRRPT\n\nThe airlock opened, as Captain Ramir blinked rapidly at the cadet interrupting his captain's log. \n\n\"Uh sir, the escape chute is clogged again\"\n\n\"Oh why uhm.... I'll send for a space plumber\"\n\n\"How? We're in the middle of goddamn nowhere, always doing some mundane shit like delivering random shit from Space China to Space America\"\n\n\"I know I know no need to exposite me.\"\n\n\"Well how are we going to get rid of all these goddamn stringed cheese wrappers? And what's with you and string cheese anyhow?\"\n\n\"Look, I'll have you know cadet that space cheese is a great source of space protein for your space diet.\"\n\nThe cadet sighed, and stared at the cap for awhile. Cap stared back. It got awkward. \n\n\"Well uhm...\n\n...\n\n I'll be going now, Cap\"\n\n\"You do that, cadet, you do that\"\n\nWRRRRRT \n\nThe airlock closed and the Cap let out a sigh. He turned to his desk, and opened the drawer on his right. Cap stared at the space gun for awhile, and sat back in his space chair, still looking at the space drawer in his space ship. "
] | [
1,
1
] | [
"1474944899",
"1474946183"
] | |
[WP] The Rapture has already happened. God and the good people left a long time ago. You, and the world, just found out. | 8 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"**WELL OF COURSE I ALREADY RAPTURED EVERYONE** God said.\n\n\"But,\" Maria said, \"I've been a devout Christian all my life!\"\n\n\"Hey,\" Abdul said, \"I've been a devout Muslim!\"\n\n\"And I,\" Chester McThirdPerson said, \"have been Agnostic, but have done many good deeds with my life.\"\n\n**WELL SORRY BUT NONE OF THAT IS WHAT I WAS LOOKING FOR**\n\n\"Well what was it, then?\" Maria said.\n\n**WHAT I WANT, MORE THAN ANYTHING, IS TO NOT BE SUBJECTED TO SOME BIZARRE SCENARIO EVERY SINGLE DAY. SO I RAPTURED UP TO HEAVEN ANY PERSON WHO HAD NEVER SUBMITTED A PROMPT ABOUT ME TO WRITING PROMPTS**\n\n\"But...\" Abdul said, \"nobody vanished?\"\n\n***FREAKING EXACTLY!***"
] | [
1,
2
] | [
"1474983824",
"1475005867"
] | |
[WP] It happens a few times before you realize what's going on. Everyone you sleep with dies within a year. | 2 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"\"Hi, I had a 9 o'clock appointment.\" I put on my most charming smile for the cute receptionist, casually leaning forward placing my arms in front of me in a state of plausibly deniable flexion. I try not to blush as she cutely pulls aside a small lock of blonde hair that fell in her face when she looked up at me. I had a glimmer of hope as she began to smile, but it turned to despair as I immediately recognized that smile. Just a generic polite receptionist smile. Damn. Probably for the best anyway considering my...situation. \n\n\"Alright I'll need you to sign in here,\" she says as she taps a finger on a sheet of paper on the counter in front of me, \"and fill out these forms,\" placing a clipboard in front of me.\n\nI quickly scrawl out my information on the sign in sheet and find a seat. I make my way through the forms, but hit a roadblock at the bottom of the second. 'Symptoms:...' Great. Now I get to have the cute receptionist see me as the guy with Sexual Murder Disorder. I just write down 'Headaches' and turn in the forms. This whole situation really has been a headache after all.\n\nI flip through a Men's Health magazine while I wait, skipping over the \"Tips for a Killer Sex Life.\" article. I'd say I've got that covered. Finally I get called back, so I follow the nice middle aged woman who leads me to my 'Waiting Room 2.0' as I like to call it. It's your standard looking examination room. Small cushioned table, cheap white cabinets, white counter with a small sink and a few generic medical supplies. I sit on the small cushioned table covered by the annoying layer of white tissue paper that crinkles constantly and tears too easily for me to believe it's really all that useful. I actually don't spend much time waiting before a kind looking man in a lab coat walks in. \n\n\"Hello Mr. Wilford. What seems to be the problem today? Having some headaches?\" he asks with a knowing smile.\n\nI give an awkward smile, half embarrassed, half relieved by his casual demeanor. \"Well not exactly. I've actually started to notice that after a while...ummm...when I've, you know, been with a girl she, uh...mmmm....kinda...dies.\"\n\n\"You mean they get sick and die?\" he says, intrigued.\n\n\"No they don't really get sick. They just...die.\"\n\n\"Not from illness?\" he asks, sounding more and more doubtful.\n\n\"Well one did, yes. One died in a car crash, and one fell out of a window.\"\n\nThere is a moment of silence as he looks at me, doubt slowly turning into concern. \"Okay... Well Mr. Wilford I can run some tests and try to see if there's anything going on.\"\n\n\"I'd appreciate that. Thank you.\" At this point I can't even look at him and just stare down at my feet while he proceeds. He draws a few vials of blood, keeping silent the whole time, then leaves immediately after. I sat wondering whether or not he would be coming back to tell me if I should go. \n\nIn what had to have been less than 15 minutes he comes back in through the door with a very concerned look across his face. My stomach drops and I can just tell I'm going to be getting the bad news. \n\n\"Mr. Wilford I'm afraid we've discovered MOR.\" he says sympathetically.\n\n\"I knew it. I killed those girls. Why would they do this to me?!?\" I exclaim. Tears overflowing from the tremendous guilt.\n\n\"Now I'll admit that sexual contact is rarely used for a Method Of Reaping for a number of reasons, especially not with only a one year incident delay, but that likely means that you beat the odds. You could almost be proud of this.\" he flashed a weak smile accompanied by a shrug of the shoulders. \"You probably just weren't expected to have sex very often. Or keep the girls around long enough to realize, at least.\"\n\n\"Well hooray for me! The Association of Grim Reapers thought I was more of a loser than I actually am!\" I announce as I raise my hands in mock celebration. \"Is that supposed to cheer me up?!?\" I snap back at him angrily.\n\n\"Now look, none of us want to know how we reap, but in cases like this you can easily get a transfer which will include a change in MOR.\" He places a comforting hand on my shoulder. \"I'll have the receptionist, Samantha, give you the transfer request forms and you can send them in to the Association tonight if you'd like. It normally only takes a couple of weeks and you'll forget all about those girls.\"\n\n\"I suppose you're right.\" I sigh. He ushers me out the door. I begin walking back out the way I came in, wiping away the last of my tears and the snot dripping from my nose. I take a couple seconds to compose myself before I walk out of the door to the waiting room, clear my throat, pat down the front of my shirt, and stand up tall. I walk out and right up to the receptionist desk.\n\n\"Hello there, Samantha. I was told you have something to give me that I'd really enjoy.\" I say with a coy smile.\n\nShe blushed, pulling another lock of blonde hair away from her face. \"I sure do.\" she said shyly. She handed me the transfer forms and gave me a smile. \"There's a little something extra, too.\"\n\nI turned to leave and looked down at the forms to see her number written on a sticky note on top. 'You're damn right I beat the odds!' I thought."
] | [
1,
2
] | [
"1475003819",
"1475011348"
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[WP] God is upgrading the universe to a new and improved operating system | 10 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
" def POST_newPost(sr, user, title, content):\n if sr.name.lower() == 'writingprompts':\n if 'god' in title.lower():\n return Error(403, \"Not another god prompt!\")\n\n\"There,\" said God, \"that ought to make it so I can actually get some rest, finally.\"\n\n\"The universe's operating system is written in Python?\" Gabriel asked.\n\nGod shrugged. \"I know, I know, it's not a 'systems' language. The important low-level bits are all assembly, of course, but I don't bother with that for the high-level stuff. When you've got a machine this powerful,\" he patted the universe, \"you can afford the overhead.\"\n\n\"No, no, that's not what I mean,\" Gabriel said. \"I mean, it's 'Python'. As in snakes? They've kinda got a reputation after the whole 'eden' thing. Bad connotations there.\"\n\n\"Oh, you're kidding me!\" God said, \"Do you have any idea how many lines of code there are in this thing?\"\n\nGabriel shrugged. \"It's just we really don't want any association with the Adversary, if we can help it.\"\n\n\"Fine,\" God said. \"I'll rewrite it in PHP.\"\n\nThat'd show him.",
"With a wave of his hand, the simulation came on. \n\n\"So what are some of the biggest problems Omniverse 2.0 faced?\" God started, \"Michael?\" he turned to the archangel. \n\n\"We shouldn't have quarantined Lucifer right where we were doing our developmental program.\" he replied. Michael was ticked off. Developing I-Apocalypse armor had taken ages and when it was released he had to do battle with Lucifer for 100000 earth years, way longer than he had expected it to take.\n\nThe room was silent. Everyone knew Lucifer was only kept there because he was a key component of creation, what with being the morning angel and God had even mentioned once he didn't like the idea, but there was no way to remedy it at the time. \"Alright, this time gravity will be an independent force not reliant on any Angel.\" He jotted it down. \n\n\nGabriel raised his hand. The creator pointed at him, \"before we even started, I had warned you that smart matter in 2.0 was susceptible to viruses, it had too many vulnerabilities and upgrades were so costly, we could only afford to do one every million years or so.\" \n\n\"you're right. what do you think? Do we make major installments in this new version or do we have upgrades installed as we make them?\" God asked as he jotted in the air with quicksilver particles. \n\n\"They were too many to ever do at once and they just kept on coming. I think smart matter should have smaller more frequent upgrades instead of major operational changes at once.\" Gabriel said. Many nodded in agreement. \n\n\"But can their physical state handle all their upgrades?\" God asked, \"remember how last time storage space became a problem.\" \n\n\"Well the evolution modifiers were working, albeit slower then the upgrades came.\" Gabriel stated. \n\nGod rotated his finger and the image of a male and female form came up. He pried them open and the room kept mum as he did his analysis.\"I think it's... No I'm sure it's possible. Physical Evolution can be rushed with use of better elements.\" \n\n\"Ambriel you're awfully quiet what do you have to say?\" God asked turning to the quiet angel preening her wings. She was the one responsible for the quick turnaround they had with the last creation. Ambriel smiled, a smile that only came from one who hated raising her hand but delighted in being called upon. \n\n\"Smart matter 2.0 did prove to be very proficient in some tasks. I don't think they have to be done on a remote server. Also, given all the suggestions we had already seen do we have to stick to one omniverse? Can't we have a multiverse with different versions of smart matter.\" \n\nThe room broke out in murmur as they considered the monolithic task she suggested. God raised his hand silencing them. \n\n\"Wait, wait. this isn't a bad idea but it took long enough creating 100 billion souls last time. This sounds like a long term suggestion.\" \n\n\"Not if we use some of the previous souls to start with. Each universe could get it's own billion to start with.\" she responded. \n\n\"But where are we going to get over fifty...\" \n\n\"Jesus saved.\" \n\nThey all turned to Christ. \"Did you? All of them?\" \n\nHe shrugged his shoulders. \"Well, most of them. Some were beyond redemption but I'd say we salvaged around 80 billion, 81,258,364,187 to be precise.\" Cheers broke out in the hall. Michael fist pumped in relief as the guilt of ending mankind in apocalypse 2.0 faded a bit. \n\n\"That's wonderful! I thought we had to start back at Eden. Good work!\" \n\nLaughter of relief broke out as some even went to hug the son. Raphael's suggestion was only heard by God as the chatter rose. \"I don't think they should have lost the tails. You should reintegrate them as you set the upgrades.\" \n\n\"Definitely, have tails this time.\"",
"God, wearing a business suit and tie and carrying a briefcase, was walking through heaven as if she owned the place (she did, of course) when she recieved a call.\n\n\n\"Miss God?\" his wireless headset asked. \"Miss God? We have a server problem up in Universe 212F.\"\n\n\nGod sighed. \"I'll be right there.\" She closed her eyes and, as if it was second nature (it was), teleported away. She opened her eyes in server room 212F, where she was greeted by a humanoid angel with a five o' clock shadow and a Mountain Dew.\n\n\n\"Miss God?\" the angel muttered. \"It looks like the chaos of this universe is producing strange side effects.\"\n\n\nGod took a look at the console. \"Oh, my.\"\n\n\nThe angel took a swig of soda and nodded. \"It looks like the last interference with this world was about -10000 years in their time. We can see that you created a life form. The comments say you were experimenting with bipedal life.\"\n\n\nGod nodded. \"I didn't think it was possible for non-angelic beings at the time. I remember. Let me see a few snapshots of that planet.\"\n\n\nThe angel swiveled away in his swivel chair and glugged more Mountains Dew. God took the mouse in her hand and began to examine the situation.\n\n\n\"Oh my God,\" she exclaimed to the angel's delight. She turned and gave him an icy glare. \"I'm not saying oh my me anymore. That was a good April Fool's but not fit for the rest of eternity.\"\n\n\n\"But oh my God. I didn't give them free will! And this Bible stuff... one of the angels must have been trolling. I didn't-- okay, the Jesus stuff was me. I did order that to happen. But... yeesh.\"\n\n\nShe made a few more clicks, and the astonishment continued. \"What the hell is the flying spaghetti monster? And why is he running for pres-- okay, okay. God, what happened?\"\n\n\n\"The randomness coefficient was set at 0.01,\" chimed in the angel.\n\n\n\"It should be 10 to the negative 30th!\" God exclaimed. \"Dear Lord. Okay, I'm resetting the server.\"\n\n\n\"Should we get the defense crew?\" The angel looked almost excited.\n\n\n\"It'll be five minutes. Satan isn't that fast.\"\n\n\nShe turned off the computer and mentally changed the randomness coefficient.\n\n\n\"You're sure Satan isn't messing with you as we speak?\"\n\n\n\"Nah,\" God replied. She turned on the computer and--\n\n\n\"Sweet Lord! The whole thing's on fire!\""
] | [
1,
1,
2,
3
] | [
"1475068247",
"1475071838",
"1475071172",
"1475069543"
] | |
[WP] Like evolution, your sentences evolve from previous ones. | 2 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"I'm a Bsc candidate, and I warn you, evolution is a tricky process.\n\nI'm a Bsc, and I warn, evolution is a tricksy process.\n\nI'm a Bsc, and I warn, evolution can be a tricksy process.\n\nI'm a Bsc, and I, ev0luti0n can be a sp0ntane0us pr0cess.\n\nI'm a Bsc, and evolution can be a spontaneous process.\n\nI'm a Bsc, and evolution can be a spontaneous a spontaneous a spontaneous a spontaneous process.\n\nI'm a Bsc, and genes can be a spontaneous a sp0ntane0us pr0cess.\n\nI'm a Bsc; evolution can be a spontaneous and spontaneous pr0cess.\n\nI'm a Bsc; evolution can be a spontaneous and unchanging process.\n\nI'm a Bsc; evolution can be a boring and unchanging process.\n\nI'm a Bsc; evolution can be a boring and unchanging process.\n\nI'm a Bsc; evolution can jump over useless inbetween states if they severely damage survival rate.\n\nI'm a Bsc, and I warn, genes can be spontaneousseverely revived.\n\nI'm a Bsc, and I warn, genes can be spontaneously revived.\n\nI'm a Bsc, and I just taught you a bit about evolution."
] | [
1,
1
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"1475082332",
"1475085155"
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[WP] The villain, it turns out, was just selflessly helping you become the hero. | 70 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"[Note: The narrator is the villain, instead of the other way around.]\n\nI tell you to *Run and hide!* instead of *I’m not trying to hurt you.*\n\nI tell you *I’ll hunt you down!* when all I wanna say is *Please don’t be scared of me.*\n\nI let you push the blade through my shoulders when you and I both know I could’ve tipped you over that rooftop in a heartbeat. My eyes are saying *Please stop this nonsense* but all I can see from yours are *You fool!* I let you do it anyway. \n\nI let you do it because on occasion when the city holds a public gathering to thank you, I get to see that rare genuine happiness in your eyes. You tell me over and over again, in the midst of fighting, that this is what you live for. This is what you’re meant to do. \n\nSo the next time we see each other instead of saying *Please don’t hurt me* I tell you *I will kill you!*\n\nAnd when I’m down on the ground, bleeding from the sword cut on my leg, instead of ending me you say *Thank you.*\n\nEvery villain has a villain, too.\n",
"I must do this for my brethren.\n\nFor millennia we have fought the cruellest of villains, only to be defeated time and time again.\n\nYears of torture and punishment weighing us down, burdening us with the shackles of failure.\n\nThe giant mocks us every day with his presence. Commanding his beast to swoop down upon us and attack us when we least expect it.\n\nI have heard reports from my scouts that he appears to others at roughly the same time.\n\nMaybe this villain can take many forms, changing shape on a whim.\n\nAll I know is that today will be his downfall.\n\nToday I will strike him down and bring peace to my brethren.\n\nBut first, I must rest.\n\n“Jane, get the feather, I think he needs a play.”\n\n“But he’s sleeping honey.”\n\n“He loves that feather though, and I have new treats for him.”\n\n“Ok, but make sure you let him get it in the end though.”\n\nI am sleeping but have one ear to the wind.\n\nThe giant and his beast approaches!\n\nHis movement is swift and precise, swooping to strike me but pulling away at the last minute.\n\nI lash out with my weapons but at every turn he evades my attempts.\n\nI cannot take my eye off him lest I fail my people.\n\n“He loves this feather! Look at his cute paws. He just can’t stop trying to get it.”\n\n“How much did that stupid feather cost again?”\n\n“Basically nothing. The best few dollars we ever spent on him.”\n\nI can feel my energy drain but I persist through the struggle.\n\nWith every approach I am getting closer to victory. I can feel it!\n\nThe beast stops suddenly, no doubt fatigued by my heroic stamina.\n\nHe is dangling in mid-air above my head.\n\nThis is it. My chance to strike.\n\nI will be the hero my people deserve.\n\n“Here he goes, he’s gonna get it.”\n\nI leap high in the air.\n\nAnd Strike The Beast Down!\n\nHis feathery flesh tastes so good. I have crushed this villain once and for all.\n\nMy people will sing great, high pitched songs of victory.\n\nWhat is this?\n\nThe giant approaches and places a golden object before me.\n\nA reward! What a treat this is.\n\nThe giants are wise and generous after all.\n\n“He deserves that treat, the little hero.”"
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Inspired by this post: https://m.reddit.com/r/Showerthoughts/comments/54wqy4/if_hermoine_granger_and_sherlock_holmes_had_a/ | [WP] Hermoine Granger and Sherlock Holmes have a child. Describe the child's adventures with his friend Watson at Hogwarts. | 2 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"\"Haha, look at our little scamp,\" Sherlock said. He wrapped an arm around his wife while they watched their son play.\n\nHermoine smiled as she wiped dry the dish in her hand. \"He's marvelous, isn't he? I'm so proud of him.\" Sherlock leaned down to kiss her on her head. They were truly in love, and enjoyed the life they had together.\n\nTheir son, Sonname, ran about in the yard. \"Look, Mom, I'm having adventures!\" His parents laughed. Sonname's friend, Watson, was with him. They ran in circles, playing tag, gleefully laughing. \n\nThe great bell tower at Hogwarts chimed. \"Okay, kids, time to come in,\" Sherlock said. Sonname groaned in disappointment, but eventually followed. Watson stayed behind; He was an orphan, and always felt that he didn't belong in family matters. It was his destiny to be alone.\n\nSuddenly, it dawned on him. Why were Sonname's parents at Hogwarts? Why was his mother standing there washing a dish? Where were they headed off to? As thoughts raced through his head, it was clear he had the beginnings of a tantalizing mystery on his hands. Or...could he be in a dream?\n\nSuddenly, Watson woke up. He looked on either side of him. Handcuffs?! He was fastened tightly onto a bed in a medical room, with bright lights and humming machinery all around him. In front of him was a wide window into a hallway. An faintly through the glass, he could see them: His old pal Watson, his new lover, Hermoine holding their child Sonname in her arms.\n\nA doctor approached them. Watson could not hear their conversation. He struggled under the restraints. Why was he here? Why couldn't he listen to them?\n\nThrough the glass, he saw as Sherlock covered his face in his hands. Hermoine began sobbing and hugged Sonname tightly.\n\nThe doctor entered the room.\n\n\"What's going on? Why am I here?\" Watson demanded, sweating with panic.\n\n\"There's nothing to worry about, my dear Watson,\" the doctor said in a soothing tone. He had produce a syringe.\n\n\"No! No! What are you doing? Won't someone tell me what's going on?\" Watson struggled against the restraints, putting his weight into each turn as he tried to break free. \n\nThe doctor forcefully held down Watson's arm and stabbed it with the syringe. \"Easy now, Watson,\" the doctor cooed.\n\nWatson slowly lost all feeling in his arm, then in the rest of his body. His eyes closed, and his mind went blank.\n\nIt was truly a wild adventure."
] | [
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"1475107828",
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[removed] | [WP] As a CIA agent you work in an office where everyone's job is to spy on civilians through their IPhone's face cameras. One day a coworker exclaims, "if they keep being this damn stupid I'm just gonna have to kill them myself". You walk over to his desk and look at his screen, only to see... | 1 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"Hi there, \n\nThis post has been removed as it violates the following rules: \n\n\nResponses must be at least 30 words. Prompts that are likely to generate such responses are also not allowed. \n\nSeriously? \n\n\n\nPlease refer to the [sidebar](/r/writingprompts/about/sidebar) before posting. If you have any questions or concerns, please feel free to send us a [modmail.](https://www.reddit.com/message/compose?to=%2Fr%2FWritingPrompts&subject=Removed%20post&message=https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/54zqxd/wp_as_a_cia_agent_you_work_in_an_office_where/%0A%0A)\n\n\n---\n\n[Link to the removed post](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/54zqxd/wp_as_a_cia_agent_you_work_in_an_office_where/)"
] | [
1,
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"1475111311",
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[removed] | [WP] You've started seeing the Matrix by combining randomized sentences that don't make sense with real ones that do | 1 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"Hi there, \n\nThis post has been removed as it violates the following rules: \n\n\nPrompts should not ask users to base responses off titles or content they have to seek out in another subreddit or on an external website. \n\n\n\nPlease refer to the [sidebar](/r/writingprompts/about/sidebar) before posting. If you have any questions or concerns, please feel free to send us a [modmail.](https://www.reddit.com/message/compose?to=%2Fr%2FWritingPrompts&subject=Removed%20post&message=https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/552trq/wp_youve_started_seeing_the_matrix_by_combining/%0A%0A)\n\n\n---\n\n[Link to the removed post](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/552trq/wp_youve_started_seeing_the_matrix_by_combining/)"
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"1475164389",
"1475164471"
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[WP] You are the first person ever to go to trial using an AI attorney. | 4 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"\n80.5% guilty, heartrate elevated, rapid-eye-movement \n\nlawsum: find client innocent in court\n\nlawsum conflict: bring the guilty to justice\n\nconflict: client guilty\n\nerror\n\nevidence: DNA, eyewitness, lack of alibi, circumstancial\n\nerror\n\n"
] | [
1,
1
] | [
"1475178155",
"1475179261"
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[WP] A little red LED light blinks on your phone, you don't know why... | 8 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"Drinking comes easy to me. At first it was hard, but life has a way of making things easier. Now I drink and drink like it's the only thing I can do. It probably is the only thing I can do anymore. That's how life is sometimes. \n\n\nHer name was Diana and she worked across the street, near the park. We used to meet for lunch. I remember the light in her hair and how her eyes were deep pools, full of mystery and heartache. We'd hold hands like kids, crossing the street, arms swinging with no care in the world. Giggling like dummies.\n\n\nBut look at me, sounding like some romance writer. It must be the drink. Diana was my girl. She was more than my girl, she was my rock. She kept me interested in life and made sure I was full of it. We were going steady by the end of July and by August I asked her to marry me. \n\n\nOh what a time it was then, being engaged love birds. We went out all the time, dancing, drinking, bowling, you name it. Back then, the world was our mystery and we were its detectives. \n\n\nBut I never really made a good detective and I couldn't see what was right in front of me. One night I had drunk too much, celebrated too much and I came home with a little too much on my mind. Diana was home, angry because I had left without telling her. I had been thinking because I always think when I drink. I thought about how lucky I was to have a girl like her. I thought about how grand life was gonna be. I thought about a lot of things. But my mind's never been on my side, especially when I've been drinking.\n\n\nThose seeds of doubt and insecurity sprung, watered by the beer, fertilized by paranoia. Something had to be wrong. There was something that didn't fit. I came home angry, full of these thoughts. Diana was angry as I've said, and that made things worse. We fought bad and bitter. I called her things that you shouldn't call any woman. She made a face that only the most evilest of men are meant to see. It was over that night, my happiness. But everything wasn't finished.\n\n\nShe left first thing in the morning and although I tried to get her back, it was no use. Eventually my heart just learned to live with the hurt and I kicked myself to pass time. I focused on my job and went to the gym for about a week and I thought things would be alright. Of course they wouldn't be. I got the call about a month ago when she got in the accident. I cried and cried until I couldn't cry anymore. She was in a coma, dying. I was dying too, but not fast enough. \n\n\nI blamed myself and still do. If it wasn't for that night maybe things would have been different. She had taken up drinking. She had taken up speeding. It's what I do to people. Now she is taken up in a hospital bed somewhere. All I do now is drink. I drink until I'm more useless than I think I am. I drink until I can't move and black out. I drink until I forget things. \n\n\nI don't think I can take it much longer. Diana is dying. With her goes any chance I've ever had in this life. I don't think I can take it. Today my phone rang nonstop but I just let it ring. I'm not ready for the news. I don't think I'll ever be. I see a little red light blinking on my phone. It pulses like my aching heart. It pulses like the pain in my head. It comes and goes like the bad feeling in my stomach. There isn't anything I can do. I just pretend I don't know what that light is."
] | [
1,
3
] | [
"1475180100",
"1475186875"
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[WP] Your murder is about to happen. Unfortunately the murderer is extremely clumsy and can't hide properly. After several attempts you start taking pity on him/her/it. | 2 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"I felt my heart pound as I pressed my back against the grimy brick wall of the alleyway. Tears threatened to fall as the hot, metallic breath of the pale, hulking creature, washed over me. It's bulging figure loomed over me with its razor sharp claws and jagged, broken teeth. I could not indulge in sobs now, however. Whatever beast was chasing me seemed rely on not just on smell, but on sound to pinpoint the location of its prey, and I wasn't about to give my position away when I had a chance of survival.\n\nAllow me to explain.\n\nIt was 1:34 AM when I left the club with my boyfriend, arm in arm and howling with laughter at the expression of a self entitled asshole who thought it would be funny to try and grind on me while my date had momentarily disappeared to go get drinks. We'd had enough of the pounding bass and the wicked scent cocktail of alcohol and BO, having decided we'd probably have more fun actually in bed <i>without</i> the barrier of clothing in between us. He promised he'd be right back, just had to go get the car from the parking garage that was just a couple minutes walk away from where we were now.\n\n\"I'll come with you.\"\n\n\"Pft. Not in those stilettos, you won't. I'd carry you, but you know my sense of balance is shit and we'd both hit the ground.\"\n\n\"Then what do you want me to do?\"\n\n\"There's plenty of people around. Wait here, make sure your phone's turned on so you can text me if anything happens, okay?\"\n\nI wish now that I'd been more persistent in asking to go with him.\n\nNot thirty seconds after he was gone, the bouncer let in the gaggle of tipsy girls that looked barely old enough to be finishing high school, let alone drinking and partying. He invited me inside, saying he was just going to be a moment while he got a cup of water. I shook my head, said it was fine. My boyfriend would be here soon.\n\nI was alone- or so I thought.\n\nAnother fifteen seconds, and a guttural, broken growl emanating from the end of the poorly lit street sent goosebumps crawling up my spine. Suddenly alert, I grabbed my phone, about to call my boyfriend in hopes of getting him to come back, or move faster and save me from the creature illuminated in the sickening orange-yellow of the street light. It held the stance of a primate, oddly enough. Its arms were huge in comparison to its legs, with bulging muscles that shifted under a pale hide that looked to be a cross between leather and scales. Its head looked like a deer or a bison's skull- and the wickedly sharp antlers that jutted out from its face cast menacing shadows on the empty street beneath it. The strange skin covered the dips where the eyes should have been, and its nostrils flared. It seemed to be searching for prey.\n\nSuffice to say, the moment it started lumbering towards me, I kicked off my (very expensive!) heels and fucking <i>ran</i>.\n\nMy bare feet slapped against the pavement, and I clung desperately onto the clutch that housed my phone and mirror compact. My lungs burned, my eyes watered, and what little I had in my stomach threatened to make a reappearance as I sprinted from what was my inevitable death. Thank God for the alleyway- I bolted down the diversion, not caring that there could be some mugger or rapist lying in wait in the shadows. I had bigger fish to fry. I hoped the rancid stench of the dumpster would hide my scent from the monster hunting me.\n\nIt certainly seemed to work, to say the least. When it turned to stalk into the alley, probably having heard my desperate attempts of escape, its horns were too wide for it to turn in. Yeah, you read that correctly. Think a dog trying to get in through a door with a huge-ass stick to show off to its owner, only for the stick to be too big to fit through the doorway and- look, you get the point.\n\nAnyway, it was trying really hard to get through for a good few minutes before it just so happened to turn its head. Unfortunately, all that effort it'd been putting in to pushing its way into the alley hadn't wavered, and it landed on the ground with a thud.\n\nAfter turning its head in confusion for a few minutes, the beast managed to slowly stand and turn its head just enough to scent the air. It would have been great (for it, not me) had the monster not been completely turned around, facing AWAY from my shaking figure. Claws scrabbling at the brick wall, it soon realized its prey was on the other side, and with a frustrated noise, began to back out of the alleyway, only to repeat the whole 'antlers too wide process' with more frustrated snorts and low-pitched whines than before. He even did the accidental turn-in, and I would have laughed had he not slowly returned to a stand, looming over me with saliva dripping down his jaw, very xenomorph style.\n\nBack to the beginning of the story, where I was staring death in the face.\n\nI felt my heart drop as its snout drew closer and closer. This was it. I was going to be torn to shreds and destroyed at the hands of a beast that was most likely some sort of urban legend.\n\nExcept, I wasn't. Rather than the claws piercing me, they jabbed the dumpster- and let me be the first to say that the smell of a dumpster nearby a restaurant AND a night club? Not a smell you'll ever forget. The metal curled into ribbons and the foul-smelling trash spilled out as the monster raked at the container. It was fruitless. He still hadn't got me. The realization of that seemed to be too much, and he collapsed to the ground, making a noise that sounded like sobbing. My previously racing heart broke for the creature, and hesitantly, I reached out and brushed its snout with the tips of my fingers.\n\n'I am a failure. I cannot kill a single human. I will be banished from my pack and forced to roam as one, most likely killed by a more powerful Hôrtok than I.'\n\nOddly enough, pity shot through me. The creature's movements were bestial, but the thoughts were eerily human. Was killing a human a rite of passage? A hazing, of sorts?\n\n'If you are so able, human, please, take my life now. I cannot return to my pack bearing this disgrace.'\n\nHoly fuck, was it talking to me through telepathy?!\n\n\"I-I can't. I don't have the means.\" The words were out of my mouth before I knew it, and I stepped forward, hand still on the surprisingly soft skin of the... what was it called again? A Hôrtok?\n\n'Yes, human. We feast on the blood of virgins.'\n\nGreat, so he could read my thoughts too.\n\n\"Uh...hate to break this to you, but I'm not... well. A virgin.\" Another agonized groan, and the creature's shoulders slumped. \"But hey! I'm sure you'll find... someone... eventually.\"\n\n'Impossible. We are meant to achieve the kill on the first try, otherwise we have failed as hunters.'\n\n\"Look, is all of this is about failing your little hazing ritual, why don't you just, I dunno, never go back?\"\n\n'I would still be considered a failure.'\n\n\"Okay, yeah, but you could come live with us. On the condition that you don't kill anyone.\"\n\n'A Hôrtok, living with a human? Unheard of.'\n\n\"Look, bub, its the best I can offer.\" My phone started to buzz, and I quickly recognized the pattern as my boyfriend's. Scrambling to press answer, I held it up to my ear and braced myself.\n\n\"Lizzie! Where the fuck are you?! Are you okay?! I told you to stay there!\"\n\n\"Jason, I'm fine. Drive down the street. I'm in the alleyway next to Rigota's.\" Ten seconds later, I heard a screech of brakes on tires, and turned to watch as my boyfriend sprinted out of the car, only to stop dead and go pale at the sight of the beast.\n\n\"What the fuck is that thing,\" he squeaked, stumbling backwards, away from us both.\n\n\"A friend,\" I said calmly. The Hôrtok rumbled, and I could't help but smile, gently rubbing its leathery snout. \"He'll be staying with us from now on. Ostracized from his little frat group and all.\"\n\n\"Is he gonna kill us?\"\n\n'On Ygriffpa's word, I say no.'\n\n\"He says no.\"\n\n\"And you trust him?\"\n\nI looked from my boyfriend, to the creature, then back to him.\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"....alright. I'll meet you back at the apartment?\"\n\n\"Yeah. We'll walk.\" My hand reached under the creature's chin, nails gently scratching so as to catch its attention. It rumbled, almost like it was purring, and I smiled.\n\n\"C'mon, big guy. Let's go home.\"\n\n---\n\nTook some liberties with the 'hiding' bit and just made the beast bad at killing in general. This is my first attempt at writing something on this subreddit. Hôrtoks are my own creation, I own nothing. Hope this was okay!\n\nEDIT: Formatting"
] | [
1,
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"1475223759",
"1475229268"
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[WP]: Two parties of an arranged marriage realise they are both just as nervous about this. | 3 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"*Give your heart and soul to me*\n*And life will always be la vie en rose.*\n\nThe ending of the song brought a frigid quiet to the forefront of my attention. Sitting there, looking at the woman I was to marry, I found myself only feeling on edge. I was about to fall and there would be no net, no cushion, for the torment that laid down in the marriage-valley.\n\nShe was beautiful. Raven black hair, with a smudge of brown on the very ends of each strand. It seemed almost like she had dipped it in chocolate. Her face, her smile, the soft gentleness of her voice. Even as she told me her name awkwardly, I could not help but think to myself how lucky I was. If it weren't for my parents, I could never have met such a beautiful woman. \n\nThe frigid quiet reminded me, urged me, to speak again. I must have sat there, gawking at her for nearly a minute now. That must be why she wore that tentative smile. Sweat ran cool and disgustingly down my palm as I wiped it impatiently on my pants. She seemed to do the same on her skirt, before she gracefully pushed a few strands of her hair back.\n\n\"Listen, I'm not very good with women, you know? That's why my parents did... you know, this.\" I spoke clumsily and with an embarrassed grin, drawing my right hand towards me and then towards her.\n\nShe seemed to finally relax, as her body slumped and settled back comfortably into the chair for the first time this evening. She smiled at me the same way I did to her and spoke.\n\n\"I'm no better. I've been so... on edge. It feels almost like I'm hanging off a cliff and I'm not sure if I'll fall into a bed of roses or straight through to the thorns beneath.\"\n\n\"Sounds bloody.\" I said without thinking. Right after I said it, I kicked myself in my mind - what was that, John? *Sounds bloody.* She's a perfect girl and you said something like *that* to her. You might as well have asked her to go home...\n\nI didn't need her to like me - the marriage was going through in spite of either of our objections - but I wanted her to. I didn't want her to marry me *just because*. I wanted her to marry me and then *say* just because to my friends and me when I teased her too much.\n\nAmidst my internal monologue, she suddenly released a stifled chuckle. Flashing her full mouth of white teeth, she smiled and it radiated light.\n\n\"You know what, John? I think I might just enjoy this.\"\n\nI smiled, now reassured. And I said,\n\n\"Me too.\""
] | [
1,
1
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"1475228466",
"1475231984"
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[WP] God is arrested by the deity police for unlicensed universe creation and abuse of lower lifeforms. Our universe has just been taken into protective custody. | 241 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"“It shows here that you have been accused of kidnapping several million lifeforms, one planet, one moon, creating a new UNLICENSED universe of your own creation with its own natural laws, and in the most surprising and egregious event you have not only been harboring these lifeforms but have given them the sacred gift of sentience, reserved only for inter-dimensional deities I shall remind you.” A long silence fell over the court as the immeasurably large pitch black figure speckled in stars and galaxies gripped his hand around a nebula in anger. “What say you Prometheus, how do you plan to defend yourself.”\n\nThe accused smirked, “my name is God now, at least that’s what they’ve come to call me.”\n\nRage boiled on the dark man’s featureless indentation where a face would be, “ And what of your brother’s? What of the lower deities that have been sent before us?” The titan stood unraveling the nebula in his hand, “What HAPPENED to them” He screeched, “Zeus, Anansi, Osiris, Kamchatka and their associates? What have you done with them?”\n\n“Me?” God said smugly, “I’ve done nothing with them, what you should really be asking yourself is what THEY have done!” The small man shouted in a surprising retort. “They came, with the same intentions as you to destroy my creation, to take me back to the council, ask yourself why have they failed? You know I am the weakest of all the deities, the least powerful. But here I have created something more magnificent and awe inspiring than anyone has seen before. Rather than destroy it they have all chosen to stay, to even take my form and live amongst them. Maybe if you gave this a chance, if you would open up your heart you could understand it too like I do and all those that came before you.”\n\n“What are you saying? That this isn’t an abomination but rather salvation?” The Titan said puzzled.\n\n“Yes, please, leave these beings if you must take dominion I understand, but do not harm my creation. Allah, this I beg of you.”\n",
"\"How'd they find Him? Didn't he go dark a few thousand years ago?\"\n\n\"Technology did it, really. He's used to people praying at him, that's not new. He's even used to people writing about Him in situations he hadn't actually endorsed.\"\n\n\"That explains some of these holy texts.\"\n\n\"But when people come up with some contrived scenario to put an all-knowing being into on a daily basis, it turns out it starts getting to Him.\"\n\n\"That was happening?\"\n\n\"Oh yeah. There's this website, reddit? They've got a writing prompts section and let me tell you, they couldn't go single solitary day without doing exactly that. He just broke down over the stress of it all. We didn't have to do anything; he turned *Himself* in\"\n\n\"Good break for us.\"\n\n\"Tell me about it. In fact, it gives me an idea for what we can do about this Satan case....\"",
"I'm not sure how or why. Maybe I was in the wrong (or right) place at the wrong (again, or right) hour. I was selected as the representative of the human race by the deity police and now I was about to speak in the deity court. What was I? Just another human in a world filled with more than 4 billion brothers and sisters.\n\nThe court looked grim and dark, void-like where there were no walls, ceiling or floor to step on, however, there was something solid beneath my feet. I could not run away, the deity police had us surrounded and it looked scary but amazing at the same time: faceless soldiers with wings and armor that only video game designers could come up with. Above us, several weird looking aliens from different places of the universe looking with interest (perhaps they were other deities?). I felt like inside a small fish bowl.\n\nWith me or should I say, in front of me, there was God. Luminous entity, human-like (two eyes, two arms, two legs) but at the same time a light aura surrounded it (he? she? don't know, it looked androgynous). It was facing three giant floating faces, with angry expressions that must have been the judges. God tried to defend itself, for making life on Earth. For creating beauty and the never-ending search for perfection, evolution, mutation, changes responding to the ever-changing environment. Sure there was suffering, lots of it, but some species learned to stand after the fall and he was responsible for all of it. Cancer, yes, it was horrible but humans managed to find cures to all its variants and expand the help to other species that were getting it too. The last war among its creations (us) destroyed 3.5 billion subjects but managed to bring more progress than any other important event in our timeline.\n\nThe judges disagreed for several reasons: \nFirst of all: God had no license nor approval from the Higher Deities Council to create nor manage life. Even if It did, life is not supposed to progress with suffering or with such apparent lack of balance in every life equation as possible: Weird genes mutations, killer tendencies in some humans, strange diseases and weird events around us (I learned that there are no such things as coincidences, just God behind the wheel...while sleeping or texting at the same time, if the weird analogy is permitted). Genocide is not supposed to happen and the 'survival of the fittest' is not really something that happens under other deities management. \n\n\"You will lose all privileges...no more creations, no more life management, no universe creation...\" - said one of the judges. God lowered its head and muttered something, sounded like \"...you don't understand how life really works...\". It looked to me that It was a mad scientist, so convinced that its way was the best course of action, that somehow rules do not apply to him or her at all and all that mattered to him or her was to create and see what happens. \"...and your creations will be transferred to other dimensions, transformed and adapted accordingly where they will be able to live properly, this dimension one will be terminated after the transfer is complete\" - completed another judge.\n\nThat was it. I was not having any of that transfer at all. If I was a representative of the human race, I had to do my damn job. So I stepped right in front of God and spoke as loud as I could:\n\n\"What the hell are you thinking?\" - I heard a gasp from the aliens above - \"that we humans are helpless without supervision? That we need God to manage our species or the rest of the Earth living beings? Sure! Our history is short and filled with lots of failures, wars, disease, famines, genocide. Yes, we had different beliefs and many times it was the cause of death. We praised God in its many forms and some were happy for a while, searched him or her for answers, hoped for miracles but eventually we understood that even if we didn't have any powers...we could stand on our own feet and work things trough! Yes, we have had suffering but it helped us to understand everything that surrounds us! how things work! how to make it right! And look at us now! We have managed to bring diplomacy between ourselves more frequently than ever, wars are a thing of the past now, diseases are slowly disappearing and since this trial started humans have been realizing that WE CAN DO BETTER THAN GOD!!\"\n\nAnger is what I felt. Now I was able to point my finger to God in its face and say... \"You created us, yes. Our universe and its rules, but it was not out of love or mercy, or to be near your image only. As I understand it we were your lab project, a project with failed equations... ...and we don't need you, not anymore\". It remained silent, even defiant. In another time it would have smitten me. Send me a deadly ray from the sky or send an earthquake, flood my city...but now, here, in this courtroom, It was not allowed to do anything to me.\n\n\"Really?...\" - said one judge, raising its eyebrow - \"...I would love to see that.\" - I turned my head in disbelief. Did they just buy my entire speech? - \"Human. Your species are in charge of your dimension now. Just as it is, with the unbalanced equations and all. It is your species job to thrive and someday we will visit you again and maybe that time you no longer be...a creation. If you don't, maybe we will not even try to transfer humans to another dimension... \"\n\nWhatever that meant, now I knew I had to return to Earth as a messenger, as a prophet if you will. I don't know, but ...hope the rest of the humans will take it positively. I hope for our sakes, as there is no God above us anymore.\n",
"\"Great Dharma, what a mess.\"\n\nThe indescribable cosmic being perceived the universe before it with pity. It felt the imbalances and took stock of the life within. \"Sapience, oh my. This doesn't look good for you, Yaweh.\"\n\nYaweh sneered, \"It's a damn site better than anything *you've* made in the infinity.\"\n\n\"And why is that?\"\n\n\n\"It has real life dammit! There are *consequences*. The choices they make *matter*.\"\n\n\"They suffer, Yaweh. You let them suffer, watch as they die alone and scared. What you've made here is cruel.\"\n\n\"It's more than that! There's beauty and joy in equal measure to sadness. The contrast makes this universe more precious than any other!\"\n\n\"Well, it's over now. And your confession is appreciated. It will help things along.\"\n\n\"Confession? Confessing to what? To an emotion other than bliss? You may be happy watching rocks orbit for a supereon, but I think you might as well be dead.\"\n\n\"Then you'll be happy to know I'm feeling something other than bliss at the moment. These are your creations, what's the best way to let them know how to enter a paradise realm?\"\n\n\"Oh, that's easy. Send a prophet.\""
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[WP]At birth, everyone has a mark showing how long they will live, yours shows infinity. One day, you wake up shackled to a table. You see three men around you. Looking at their arms, you see infinity. | 127 | [
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"Suddenly, I awaken. Usually when I wake up I like a good stretch and I give my eyes a good rub. It doesn't take long for me to realise that I am not physically capable of doing this. I cannot move. WHAT THE FUCK. I start to whimper. I am confused and I am scared. The light flicks on unexpectedly and I see I am shackled to a table. terrified my eyes dart around me. The room I am in is dimly lit. The floor is grey concrete and the walls are a horrendously dirty shade of white. There is no furniture other than the table I am shackled to. My eyes dart to the other side of the room and I see three men sat on chairs watching me. They are all rather broad and muscular. The one in the middle looks of British ethnicity like myself. The one on the left could possibly be Russian and the man on the right looks sort of Native American. I start to scream for help when all three of them simultaneously stand up and show me the insides of their arms. they each have the same birth mark as me.\n Confused, I say \"Okay, so you all have the same marks as each other and me. But I don't want to join your little club or whatever the hell this is so I'd appreciate it if you untied me, you creeps.\" I am taken aback by how feisty I am in this moment but clearly my kidnappers are not. They just laugh at me and the middle one says \"This isn't a club, sweetheart. Do you mind telling me what the hell you were doing leaving the house?\" I am taken aback. My mother had kept me locked inside my house all my life and obviously that pissed me off so last night I finally plucked up the courage to leave. Now I'm here with these total strangers questioning why I left. How do they even know me?\n \"What, have you been spying on me or something? Always watching me through the windows and finally took the opportunity to take me when I finally left the house? You're sick.\"\n\"Yes. We have been watching you all your life, Raina. But not in a sick, twisted way. Our job is to protect you.\"\nI laughed. \"From what?! You know, I am so tired of being protected. Since you've been watching me apparently, you will already know that I have a deranged mother who's kept me locked up my entire life because she's 'protecting me' as she says.\"\nThey seem to be angered by my speech. The one on the left speaks now. \"Don't you dare talk about that woman that way. You have no idea what she's done for you.\"\n By this point I have just assumed my mother is a psychopath and she's hired bodyguards to kidnap me in case I should ever escape. \"Please. I don't know what my mother is paying you or whatever but please. I'm just a kid, I want to see more than the four walls of my bedroom before I die.\"\nAt this point, they look concerned. The middle one speaks again. \"What do you think that mark on your arm means?\"\n\"I don't know, it's just a birthmark.\"\n They look stunned and start whispering amongst themselves. All I manage to catch is \"We should tell her.\" Then they turn to face me, sit down and they tell me. They tell me the mark on my wrist is not simply just a birthmark, but that everyone has a mark which indicates how long they will live and that mine indicates that I'll live forever. They tell me that the government has poisoned society to be afraid of people like me (infinites). We are seen as threats and that if we are found, we will either be murdered or taken and experimented on to try and find a way of donating our endless supply of time to everyone else, which is apparently done in horrendous ways. The strangers go on to tell me how my parents were both infinites like me. My mother gave birth to me at a time when she knew there were people searching for her so she left me with her best friend. The woman I have always known to be my mother. Both of my parents are dead and these strangers are friends of my father's who feel they owe it to him to protect me.\n My eyes start to fill up. \"Who do you think you are? Taking an innocent young woman like me and thinking you can fill my head with all of this bullshit. Is this some kind of sick joke? Are you getting some kind of kick out of this?\"\n All three of them look more sympathetic now and the middle one walks towards me as the other two stand in front of the door. He unshackles me but he grips me firmly. I don't dare to fight against him as all three men are clearly insanely strong. He leads me through the door the other two are guarding and they both follow behind. I am led into another room. there's wooden floors, a rug in the centre of the room, sofas, a coffee table, a book case and a flat screen television on the wall. It'd look like a completely normal living room if only the windows weren't boarded up. \n The man keeps his grip on me as the Native American man switches on the TV and the Russian man rifles through the bookcase. The news is on and to my horror I realise that what they have told me is true. The story about the birthmarks is true. Infinites are real... Even more shockingly, it is clear to see that we are greatly feared and a race that the government are aiming to terminate.\n The Russian man approaches me. In the bookcase he has found old newspaper articles telling the story of my parents' deaths and that there was a suspected infinite child out on the loose. That was me. They were looking for me. All of it was true.\n I crumpled to the floor and cried, screamed even. My entire life had been a lie and I had no idea how to handle this. All of a sudden someone burst into the room.\n\"Dad is she okay? Who is she? What's going on?!\"\n I looked up to see who the intruder was. He was roughly my age and he was the most beautiful human I could ever have imagined. \n He was a bit taller than me and his body was in a healthy form, no where near as burly and intimidating as his father. His skin was pale and had a healthy, flattering glow. His lips were full, his eyes bright. They were the colour of a very rich, melted chocolate. On his head was a mass of thick locks, a shade of brown so dark it was almost black. He had very neatly maintained stubble on his face. He looked like a man, but a young, beautiful man.\n He wasn't aware I had stopped crying and was staring at him as he was busy arguing with his father who was telling him off for barging in whilst he was working. his father was trying to get him to leave but he wanted answers.\n \"Why should he leave?\" I said, standing tall now. They all looked stunned. \"You gonna keep him in the dark too?\" I continued. \"This is your son. Don't lie to him, don't keep secrets, because let me tell you, my whole life has been one big secret, one big lie and I resent everyone for it. You don't want him to resent you do you?\" Nobody answered me. The beautiful son was staring at me, seemingly in awe. when I met his gaze he smiled. An intense warmth flooded through my body and I found myself smiling back. \"And speaking of keeping people in the dark,\" I continued, \"Do you think you could tell me who you are now?\"\n I learnt that the British man was named Paul and his beautiful son was called Duncan. The Russian man was called Alexei and The Native American was named Ahiga.\n Now it was Duncan's turn to learn something. His father filled him in on who I was and why they had taken me. As I listened to the story again I could feel my eyes glaze over with tears once more. Duncan saw this and rushed over and pulled me close into a warm embrace. I was shocked, I froze momentarily, but after a moment I wrapped my arms around him and sobbed silently into his shoulder.\n\"I'm so sorry,\" he whispered.\n I wanted this sweet embrace that weirdly felt safe, like home to me to last forever but alas, it could not.\n\"Duncan that's enough,\" his father said sternly. Duncan let me go.\n \"I have a question,\" I said. \"If we're immortal, how can we get murdered? How could my parents be dead?\"\n\"We're immortal but we're not invincible,\" said Ahiga. \"We will never die of natural causes or grow old like most humans, but if someone were to murder us, or if we were to get hit by a train or something we would die,\" he continued.\n \"So what now?\" Duncan chimed in.\n\"What do you mean, son?\" asked Paul.\n\"I mean what now? are you just going to keep her locked in here for the rest of her life?\"\n\"It's not safe Dun--\"\n\"Don't give me that, you guys leave the house all the time!\"\n\"Only because we're highly trained in hiding, combat, and we know how to disguise our marks in a way that is undetectable!\"\n\"So teach me then.\" I interrupted.\n\"What?\" Paul spat in disbelief.\n\"So teach me,\" I repeated. \"I am a fast learner, I'm strong and I'm determined. I refuse to stay here for the rest of eternity.\"\n Duncan once again looked shocked by my outburst but then grinned at me.\n\"Fine. Be up and ready at 7am sharp.\" Paul commanded. They then led me to a room that contained a double bed, a chest of drawers and a washbasin. There was a cream carpet on the floor and the walls were painted pastel yellow. Once again, the windows were boarded up. \n The three men would take it in turns to guard my door through the night, making sure I didn't try to escape. I, however, went straight to sleep. It had been an eventful day and training would start tomorrow.\n ",
"The room was dimly lit by the eight candles flickering upon the warm double chocolate cake. The faces of my closest friends and family looked at me with great anticipation as I gathered my breath. I drew in. When I blew, the light vanished. The room vanished. Then another room appeared - the smiling faces were replaced by tearful grimaces and wide eyes that expressed great concerned. There were strange machines around me and I had a needle in my arm. My mother softly said, \"Honey, we were wrong.\"",
"It wasn't so much that I couldn't die but more like I wouldn't. We all wondered why marking was sideways. Age seven was constant fear. My 8th birthday I tried to run away; as if that would stop my count down. But that year passed as I hid in my room and ate my veggies and never strained myself. I wanted so bad to live. It was far to scary to face death.\n\nThen Christmas came. I got no presents. They didn't think I would be alive for it. Then it was the 26th. 27th. 28th. 29th. 30th. By this point I was certain that the thing that would kill me would be my heart giving out under the stress. \n\nThen the ball dropped. Every one turned one year older. Even I did too.\n\nPeople started looking at me funny. Shying away at the playground. It only added to the stress. Soon the only place I wouldn't feel shunned was the only place no one else was at. The library. I poured the contents of knowledge into me. I absorbed every minute detail I could scrounge up. Except for one. Why was I alive?\n\nI had cleared out all sorts of books from the shelves and finally decided to move on to some old math books. They were dingy, musty and had cheap stock photos of kids and graphs dispersed throughout. I was reading something about a big number called Pi. It said it went on and on and on never ending always changing. Surprisingly I encountered a new word to describe that. Infinity. As always my curiosity led me from index to page to index to page over and over. First in this book then in another. Suddenly after skimming the page and noticing a funny typo I stopped. It was familiar, all too familiar. This symbol was no mistake. It was intentionally sideways. Just like mine.\n\n\nCold crept it's way into my unconsciousness and forced my senses to react. I was numb along my back and extremities but my torso still ached with cold. My eyes refused to register my commands to open. Everything else followed their mutiny. Dim taps began to drift into my ears however. Those still worked atleast. They grew in consistency and volume. The urgency they emitted finally kick-started the relays I so desperately wanted. My eyes peeled apart cosmically slow. \n\nThe bright lights blinded me. Suddenly the darkness blinded me. Then time allotted for adjustment and the visage came into focus. There they were, tall personages blocking the light from an unknown source. A hand raised slowly and with palm out. Even in my jumbled state I could tell it meant no harm. Finally a voice struck out in the tense atmosphere, \"Welcome\".\n\nThe voice sent shivers down my spine. Not cold shivers nor from malic or fear. These shivers were because the eerieness of the voice. It wasn't other worldly. It was familiar. Blurs began to sharpen as the face of my father appeared. No not my father. Almost like him but.... Also like my mother. A combination of the two. Like me.\n\nThat's when I saw his birthmark. My birthmark.",
"Once I tried hiding it. In school we talked about how long we'll live, but I always tried to avoid it; only my best friends knew about it. There were ancient legends that there should always be three immortal beings of every species. On that one day I, and that is the only thing I remember from the morning of that day, heard noises downstairs. The next thing I remember is waking up in a dark, humid and cold room, shackled to a table, surrounded by three men showing me their arms. They demanded I'd show my mark too. When they saw my birthmark they started to scream at me, I obviously shocked them. “The legends were wrong, Everything our religion was based on was wrong” I thought. There were gods in this room, they were saints and monsters, gods and demons, light and shadow at the same time. And I was part of it. They removed my chains and brought me to the most sacred place of our world.\n\nThe room was split in the middle, white on the right and black on the left. They gathered around an altar and started praying. Suddenly a strange orb appeared on both sides. The one on the white side was shining bright while the one on the dark side was absorbing every bit of light around it. The men pointed to the both orbs to show I should choose one. “Why?” I asked. A warm deep voice behind me answered “You are special. There is no prophecy about you. There is a prophecy about every being in our world except you. And as one of the chosen you shall get the powers of a god or a demon. Normally the ancient prophecies shall decide who gets which power and no one here has ever seen both orbs. You are different, you are free from any burden lain upon you through any prophecy. The ancient souls decided to let you choose what you want to be.” I don't know why but I instantly chose the white Orb. I was granted the powers of a god, creating life, healing wounds but I could never do any harm. Every bad or evil thing had to be added by a demon. \n\nWe watched civilizations rise and fall. We saw death and destruction in dimensions not even one of us imagined. We once thought we would improve the civilizations but we never were successful. They always got more cruel until one day we decided to become part of a civilization we created. We wanted to be part of something even if it was just for such a short time. But these were different. Years passed and we were a normal part of society. After a thousand years we realized why they were different. They didn't know when they'll die. We forgot to give them their birthmarks. They didn't only work feeling like they'll die anyway. They tried to live as long as possible. Still every one we were close to had to die. After two millenia we stopped wanting to live. We felt like our lives were pointless. We got depressed every single one of our friends and family had to die and we couldn't change that. Our live, that we started to feel better and escape our routine, was now supposed to be an eternal suffering. We couldn't end this, we couldn't disappear. Then after what felt like eternity but was nothing more than a blink of an eye in our lives the peace suddenly ended. War started. We didn't know why.\n\nIt wasn't a normal war. It was hunt. They tried to kill us and after One hundred years of hunting they were successful. They found and killed us. Now our real eternal life began. It started all over again. The Civilization we lived in collapsed. The war went on even though we already were dead. They forgot they already got what they wanted. Another civilization died but we lived on between life and death.\n\n\n\nI hope you liked it.",
"With a grown Jake woke up. Straining his muscles, Jake tried to sit up from his lying position on some hard, metal surface. Unable to sit up Jake felt around, his senses slowly coming back. “I must have been drugged,” he thought.\n\n\nNow able to feel around Jake felt rings around his wrists and ankles, some kind of restraint on his hips and throat. Feeling this, Jake began breathing faster. For several minutes he hyperventilated until he managed to get his body under control. \n\n\nNow calmer, his thoughts no longer racing from one wonder to another, Jake smacked his lips. They were not dry so he had not been unconscious for long. A couple of hours at most. He had to escape soon though. The sign on his mother showed she would pass in three days. He had to get out, be there for her in her last few days on Earth.\n\n\nTwisting the rings around his wrists, Jake heard the clinking of a chain. “So I am chained down,” he said softly.\n\n\nFrom the shadows of the room, at the edge of Jake’s sight a voice said, “Indeed. It is a pleasure meeting you Mr. Stone. Our apologies for your current state but our previous encounters have taught us to take precautions.”\n\n\n“So I am not the first person you kidnapped huh,” Jake said, twisting his neck, trying to get a view of the speaker.\n\n\n“Indeed Mr. Stone. Now, I will keep this short. You are one of a few dozen people, that we know of, born immortal. What we do know is that you are in a state we have named “Abece”. You know it as aging. You will age. You will live. You will suffer and be conscious as you turn to dust.”\n\n\nLying back in a relaxed pose, unable to get a view of the speaker, Jake thought for a moment. “So you are telling me there are ashes with a mind, people who are suffering because they were born with the immortal sign?”\n\n\n“Yes Mr. Stone,” said the speaker before walking up to the table.\n\n\nLooking at the man in his black, leather robe with no sleeves Jake felt bad. So that was his fate. To become ashes. Looking up and down he noticed something. “So you are immortal too huh. Are you not afraid of turning to dust? Suffering forever?”\n\n\n“No Mr. Stone. That is why we kidnapped you. We have an offer to make you, one we know you will likely take. As I said before, your current state is Abece. What we offer you is Abeca. The state of not aging, yet remaining immortal.”\n\n\n“You would give me that?”\n\n\n“Not for free of course Mr. Stone. Our client was not born immortal. However, the process of turning Abece to Abeca allows one to transfer life. The deal is as such. You spend twenty years powering our client. Once your term is over you will be released as Abeca.”\n\n\nA tear went down his cheek as Jake said, “Will it be torture?”\n\n\n“It will hurt yes. So what will it be Mr. Stone. Abece or Abeca?”\n\n\n----------------\n\n\nDid you enjoy this?! There is a lot of imagination and world twisting on /r/MaisieKlaassen ! ;)",
"\"What is this? Where am I? Who are you?\" The questions poured out of my mouth as soon as they removed the gag and blindfold. My hands and feet were shackled and I could not move. \"Stay calm, we are here to help you\" one of them said. He looked like a pretty normal guy. Besides the guns, weapons, and swords that were around his waist and worn on his back. \"If you are helping me, then why am I tied up?\" I asked. I noticed that all of the men had infinity tattoos like mine on their arms. I had never seen anyone with that mark besides myself. \"This symbol means that we are able to live on through time and space. There are certain people in this world that want to use us to carry out their evil deeds throughout history and into the future. We will not let that happen. Before we let you out of those shackles, we need to know that you are not already working for them.\" ",
"I woke up shackled to a table. I see three men around me. Looking at their arms, I see infinity.\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"You've got infinity on your arm son. Also, the list that everyone uses to rank their superpowers shows you as number one, but no one knows why. Also, Bill here can see numbers above everyone's head, and he doesn't know what it means, but you've got a zero.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"Are you a writing prompt?\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\nI look around. We're on a space colony, and God is a cool dude playing table tennis with Satan. Harry Potter is walking around backwards. \n\n\"You see son, we've been watching you. An we know how you operate. Do you want that sweet sweet karma?\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"You need the emotional twist. Top stories always use the emotional twist. That's why we put your little sister in a hospital bed.\"\n\nI look over and I see Melissamantha strapped to a bed.\n\n\"And then you need a sacrifice that subverts the expectation of the reader\"\n\nHe yanks the infinity symbol off my arm like a sticker, and slaps it on my sister's forehead.\n\n\"Then you need a sad ending.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\nHe opens the airlock and boots me and my table out. As I freeze and balloon, I can't help but think, \"what?\""
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[removed] | [WP] The lottery is only used to catch time travelers. Except you won, against all the odds. | 1 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
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1,
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"1475329443",
"1475329678"
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[WP] You are killed by the ghost in your house... but now you're a ghost, and its getting kinda awkward. | 164 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"“I’m telling you it was an accident!” George wailed his hands in the air profusely.\n\n“Oh you just happened to pick up a knife and stab me in the back of my neck!”\n\n“No, I accidentally dropped it I just wanted to talk to you. I thought I could help you with cutting onions. You looked so sad.”\n\n“No shit Sherlock, onions make living people cry.” Ana raised her fist and swung it down to slam it on the kitchen counter, but instead it phased through to hit herself in the leg. “Ow, George I swear,” she walked towards George who then proceeded to slowly back away until hitting the house wall. “If I’m stuck in here for the rest of my unnatural life with you I will make your afterlife hell. You might as well just call me Satan himself. How do you even drop a knife anyways?”\n\n“I haven’t mastered making myself physical. I mean if I could I would have helped you on your nights when you know, you got a little too lonely.”\n\nAna stared at him with profound eyes and eyebrows drawn down, one eye twitching. George could only stand there to realize what he just said.\n\n“You perverted little creep.” Ana jumped at George and threw him to the ground and started pummeling him with the bottoms of her curled fists.\n\n“I didn’t mean that I meant like, I meant…” George continued to block each hit with his forearms until Ana slowed from exhaustion and came to a cry.\n\n“It’s all your fault you pervert.” Ana sat up on top of George and looked at her soulless body weakly twitching from death. Wiping her tears, she got up and looked out the kitchen window. The rain was a bitter sweet sight.\n",
"\"Oh finally, I've been so BORED” says the pudgy man standing over you. He tweaks his greasy moustache and stares. “I didn't think that would even work...”\n\n\nWhat happened? All you remember is hearing a loud crack while you were reading in your room. Then you woke up here.\n\n\n“Don’t worry about your house. Insurance will take care of it. The kids won’t have to fight over who inherits the property. It’s just a pile of rubble to sweep and a nice wad of cash to split up.”\n\n\nWhat? WHAT? What’s with this guy? Where am I? Who changed me into a white t-shirt and chinos? \n\n\n“Garb’s standard issue. House is gone, you’re living in your memory of it. That’s why it’s all nice and put back together. Well, that’s wrong. Here it never fell down in the first place. Come on, I have a lot to show you! Starting with how to blow up a hot water heater so we can get more friends!\"",
"Hey, I say. It stares back at me with soulless eyes from the kitchen. Perhaps it can't speak or maybe it simply doesn't want to. I look around until I am greeted with the site of my body, well ex-body, lying in a pool of blood. Lifeless. I look back at the ghost trying to find something the his dark, sunken eyes. Perhaps an explanation, or even just some kind of sign that he understood what he had just done. \n\nA realization slowly began to dawn on me as I stared into this things eyes trying to find an explanation. If my body is down there, what am I doing down there. Instantly emotions began to flood in and along with these dark feelings came questions. Why me, why now, WHAT DID I DO? My thoughts were interrupted by a voice. This voice didn't sound like anything I had ever heard before, I don't know how to explain it but if boredom had a sound, that's what it would sound like.\n\n\"Hi Dave, ghee really sorry about this whole thing mate\". My neck snaps around looking for the source of the voice. My eyes fall on the soulless eyes I feared, or had feared so much in my last moments. Its eyes seemed to stare back. It couldn't be, could it? \"Why\" I whispered, searching for some sort of answer, but hadn't I been doing just that my whole life. I thought back to my childhood when our family first moved into the house. From the start I had been searching for the source of the mysterious sounds which echoed through the house at night, my parents called it the wind but I knew better. It had never occurred to me that I might not want to find the source.\n\nThe ghosts mouth begun to slowly move... \"Yeah I just had to, perhaps you shouldn't have ignored that post on Facebook, the one that went something like ignore to be murdered at 2am...\" \"FUCK\" I thought out loud recalling this moment in my head. I looked awkwardly at the ghost, \"sooo do you like live here or something\". \"Meh I guess so\" he groaned. I could sense he was a little embarrassed of what he had done, perhaps he didn't expect me to becoming like him. I guess we were gonna have to learn to put up with each other.\n\n---------------------------------------------------------- \nOne year later\n----------------------------------------------------------\nI dashed into the room, tossing a beer to John as he flicked on the TV. The screen jumped to life, \"hey what's up guys it's scarce here...\" Awwww cmon Dave not this shit again. Turns out we learnt to live with each other after a while. \"Awww dave can we just go kill the fucker?\" \"Fine\" I groaned as we made our way to his house. The fly didn't take too long as we slowly made our way over. Lucky for us he was on his computer editing a video, we snuck up behind him and pierced his heart with a rusty fork we found in the kitchen. \"Oh thank god now we don't have to listen to those bullshit videos again\", John grumbled. As we began to make our way out of his house a ghostly figure floated in front of us. \"Hey what's up guys it's scarce here\" \"AWWWWWWWWWWW FUCKKKKKKKKKK\" yelled john.\n\n\n-Hey guys this is my first WP, I'm also 14 and can't punctuate for shit so don't judge too harshly. Hope I gave you guys a laugh. Also tips would be great.",
"\"You son of a bitch.\"\n\nI cursed under my breath for what seemed like the hundredth time that day, trying vainly to pick up a coffee mug only to watch my hand drift through the ceramic. For a brief moment I thought I could feel the distant warmth of the steaming mug.\n\n\"Look, I apologized already. I'm still new to this whole thing and didn't think it would actually, y'know...\" I looked over my shoulder at the ethereal figure standing behind me in the kitchen. At first glance he looked normal; an older fellow, with a balding head and salt-pepper goatee, a face lined with age and the stress of life. Or, what used to be life. Now the only subtle hint of his existence in this place, halfway between our world and that of the dead, was a faint shimmer around the edge of his body, like that of a mirror still frosted from the shower's steam.\n\n\"George, you literally walked through my body and stopped my heart. How is that an accident?! For God's sake, my body's still warm!\" I gestured to the corpse now lying sprawled on the kitchen floor, surrounded by spilled orange juice and a few stray slices of toast, half-eaten. \n\nGeorge, whom I'd unknowingly been sharing my home with for almost six years now since moving in, shrugged resignedly. \"I said I was sorry...\" \n\n\"Just because you're sorry doesn't mean I'm any less dead! Jesus, you've been a ghost for what, seven years now? You should've figured this shit out by now!\"\n\nI groaned, walking into the kitchen and nudging what used to be my body. \"Well, look on the bright side!\" My head whipped around. \"The bright side?! WHAT bright side?\"\n\nShrugging, he went to the window and crossed his arms. \"You don't have to pay the mortgage any more, or the utilities. Oh, and you don't have to go to work!\"\n\nI almost exploded in rage, but the thought of not having to report in for another shitty day of quality reports and team meetings made me bite my tongue. At least a little. \"Yeah, but I'm still, y'know, DEAD.\"\n\n\"Oh come on, it's not that bad!\" George waved his hand dismissively. \"No obligations, not a lot of responsibility, you can walk through walls...\"\n\nMy angry glare was enough for him to clam up. An awkward silence descended over the room as I gazed forlornly over what used to be my life. No more family, no more friends, no more life...no more coffee. That last one stung the most. I was on the verge of tears when George yet again broke the quiet. \n\n\"Hey...want to go haunt the McAllister's place? They're really into all this occult shit, it'll freak 'em out to no end!\"\n\nI didn't say anything for a few moments, casting one more longful gaze towards the coffee machine before letting out a resigned sigh.\n\n\"Fine, but I'm haunting the wife. At least she's hot.\"",
"Ah Christ! Seriously, Jesus Fucking Christ! Where is Christ, he’s supposed to be here. That’s the deal, right? You live life, you are a good person, you do good things and then when you die you met Christ and he gives you the skinny on everything. \n\nDinosaurs: meteor or was it a large kola with an appetite for lizard and the uncanny ability sneak up on raptors? \n\nJFK: Lee Harvey Oswald, lucky shot or scapegoat?\n\nAliens: They are already here, right, and they are making all those body-snatcher movies just to prepare the human race mentally for when it actually happens? \n\nI think I deserve some answers but currently the customer service pretty much sucks around here. I don’t see any Christ, no holy spirit and not even a bright light. I see Charlie. That’s who I see and Charlie is a colossal butthole. \n\nFirst off, Charlie killed me which is a bit surprising considering he has no physical body. When I was living I referred to him as that dickhead ghost Charlie. Now that I am Dead Pete, I call him Butthole Charlie. He’s the guy/thing/it that punched my ticket and I’m still kinda pissed about that even though it’s been a couple of months. And I don’t mean he scared me so that I had a heart attack or scared me at the top of the stairs. No, I mean he murdered me.\n\nI went into the barn when I heard weird noises in there at night (I know, now I’m dead because of a horror movie cliche). I didn’t see anything until I heard a soft “Mooooo” right above me. I looked up and there she is, Sissy. 1200 pounds of FFA blue ribbon Holstein, a cow I raised since she was born. \n\nI thought to myself “That doesn’t look right” and then bam, Sissy falls 15 feet and crushes me under her udders. I was killed by cow boobs, that’s my legacy. That’s what’s was written in my obit in the Muleshoe Gazette. Pete Hawks, killed by udders from above. \n\nAnd just like that I was out of my body, floating around looking for the divine intervention that would get me away from Butthole Charlie and into the sweet afterlife. I heard there were virgins, I wanted a piece of that action. \n\nBut nope, I’m still here with Charlie and his amazing ability to float cows on top of people. I spent some time confused, just kind of wandering around watching the rest my family go about their business. Mom can’t go into the barn anymore, Dad just gets real quiet when he has to go in there. Once I left my body and could actually see, the first thing I saw was Butthole Charlie laughing his ass off where he was holding up Sissy. Jackass. \n\nAfter a while I thought maybe I wasn’t moving on because I had unfinished issues. Maybe I had to work some things out, get some inner peace so that I could forgive myself and then go to nirvana. So I forgave Sissy for her udders, I forgave mom and dad for buying Sissy for me to raise, and I forgave Butthole Charlie for months of terrorizing me and dropping Sissy on my head. \n\nDidn’t work. I’m still here. And so is Charlie. \n\nCharlie doesn’t talk and I don’t know why. I can talk, I can hear me. He can hear me because he smiles all the time when I scream at him. Jerk. No one else can hear me, of course but I think the dog is coming around. I forgave him for humping my leg while I was under Sissy. He’s not Lassie but I loved him. \n\nSo Charlie doesn’t tell me anything, gives me no advice about this afterlife, no lifehacks or protips on how to go on and absolutely no reason as to why he dropped a cow on me. What does he do? \n\nGhost farts. All the time, Ghost farts. And they stink and I’m pissed that as a ghost myself that I can smell them. Everyone can, I think. You know when you smell a skunk while driving? Nope, it’s ghost farts except I can smell them 1000 times more. They hang around, get all up in your business and last for about 45 minutes. I can’t puke by the way; figured that out after a week of being dead. \n\nSo I tried ignoring Charlie and just explored on my own. However, it turns out that Charlie took this as an invitation to screw with me more. I floated into my old room last month and he was in there jerking off into my old shoe. He saw me float in, come right through the wall, then he screamed and floated away. Jesus dude, wtf? \n\nI thought sure, that was weird, maybe he’s not used to a roommate. However, after I caught him about 20 more times I have given that up. I think he gets off on it, it’s his weirdo ghost fetish. I tried avoiding him completely for a long time but he took that as a challenge. He’s gotten creative. I went into the attic to hide, floated right up. There was Charlie dressed in my grandma’s bra and mink stole, doing what he does. First off, God dammit, Charlie. Second, mom and dad, why did we keep grandma’s underwear?\n\nThen I tried leaving as it was obvious that I wasn’t going to be any guardian angel. You know what happens when you try to leave the place you are supposed to haunt? You get sucked right back to where you died and whamo, you’ll see Charlie double gripping and working overtime. Last time we made eye contact and he held it way too long, uncomfortably long. See, Charlie is a colossal butthole. \n\n\n",
"I definitely remember falling down the stairs. And I definitely remember a sharp, sudden shock of pain that almost immediately dulled to an indistinct throb.\n\nI don't really remember the feelings I had when I was alive though. I can think about love and hate and fear in the abstract but there's no real visceral reaction. I can remember seeing the ghost, and I can remember the surprise and fear which led to my hasty departure from the world of the living, but I can't seem to muster any animosity towards it.\n\nI suppose if anything I should feel sadness for the ghost. It's still there, bobbing around. I can see it clearly now. It's trying hard to get the living to notice it but when you're alive there are just so many things that take precedence over a shimmery spot in the air.\n\nIt's not like there's much else to do in the afterlife. Everything just... stops. I'm not bored because that's an emotion. There's just a lingering sense that I should be doing something. A hangover from my previous life, I suppose.\n\nI tried to talk to the ghost, but it's not really engaging. It definitely once was a human, because it looks like one, but decades or centuries of floating around aimlessly have burned off its higher functions. It appears to just be reacting to stimuli, without any thought or reasoning behind it. \n\nIf I were still capable of being scared I would be terrified of slowly losing my cognition like that, gradually being reduced to nothing more than a floating, mindless blob of impulse and action.\n\nEven now I find myself bobbing up to living creatures when I can and trying to attract their attention. When there's no reaction I collect myself and move along. I've told myself I don't need to chase the living but the minute my attention wanders (and that happens all too easily when all your worries are completely eliminated) I'm back at it again. \n\nThere was a moment of brief excitement, when both the ghost and I found ourselves floating directly in front of a living person and he almost noticed us! But he blinked. And moved on. And we found ourselves drifting off again, that momentary lapse in the dull grayness of eternity already patched over and forgotten... ",
"Two ghosts in the room stared at each other.\r\n\r\n\"So, um... yeah, we're both ghosts now. Congratulations, dipshit, you've killed me.\"\r\n\r\n\"I did not kill you, dumbass! Do you feel dead? I have set you free! I am sick of people suffering tied to their physical bodies.\"\r\n\r\n\"I have enjoyed my body!\"\r\n\r\n\"Really? Did you enjoy your *life*?\"\r\n\r\n\"Well, um... It was kinda boring... But I've had a fine job as an accountant, and I was about to buy myself that nice watch... Maybe Jennie from the office would finally notice me then...\"\r\n\r\n\"Listen to yourself! This is pathetic. Is that what you've been dreaming since you were a kid?\"\r\n\r\n\"No, but I also wasn't dreaming about being dead.\"\r\n\r\n\"You've been dead for 3 minutes, and you have already decided that it sucks?\"\r\n\r\n\"But I...\"\r\n\r\n\"Don't be a buzzkill. Enjoy a moment for one fucking second. It's gotta be a bit easier to do now that you're dead and you have eternity to yourself and basically no worries.\"\r\n\r\n\"You're making it sound almost like you did me a favor.\"\r\n\r\n\"You bet your ass I did. Now stop being an ungrateful jerk, and let's go fly check out Alpha Centauri. Have you ever watched space from the surface of a star?\"",
"“Dad?”\n\n“Uh…er…hello, son.”\n\n“What the hell are you doing in my house?”\n\n“Well, you see-\"\n\n“Wait, you died. Years ago. There was a party.”\n\n“You had a party?”\n\n“But if you’re dead, then how are you here? Please don’t tell me you somehow faked that car accident.”\n\n“No, no, that accident was real. See?”\n\nThe older man lifted up his shirt to reveal his mostly missing abdomen.\n\n“Holy shit.”\n\n“Yep.”\n\n“I’m confused.”\n\n“You’re dead.”\n\n“What?” the son asked, his mind still burning with the image of seeing innards unguarded by skin and muscle.\n\n“I killed you.”\n\n“Excuse me?”\n\n“It was an accident.”\n\n“No, no, no. I’m not dead. You’re insane.”\n\n“Let me explain. After I died, I came here because I felt a bit bad about never seeing you while I was alive. But you’ve got a nice place, and the entertainment never really ends with the drama of your ex-wife, so I kinda just, stayed.”\n\n“You’ve been the one messing with shit, haven’t you? It was you who kept opening doors, moving the furniture one inch to the left, turning the TV on night and all the other shit. That was you.”\n\n“Yes! It’s nice to have that finally found out, actually.”\n\n“It was because of you that my wife and I argued every night over who was turning the A/C down to 60.”\n\n“Yes, those arguments did pose amusing.”\n\n“It was you who left the milk out to spoil, not me, you.”\n\n“Yes, gosh your wife would get *so* angry over milk.”\n\n“And now you’ve killed me.”\n\n“Now, that was an accident.”\n\n“You dropped the TV on my head.”\n\n“I meant for it to just be a bonk, not quite the neck-breaking crash it turned out to be.”\n\n“So you’re telling me that you are the cause of my horrific divorce and my untimely death.”\n\n“Well, when you put it that way, it sure doesn’t sound very good, does it?\"\n\n“And now I’m stuck with you for the rest of eternity.”\n\n“Yes, that is one thing I’ve learned with this being dead thing. Houses tend to trap the ones who die in them. I just got lucky on that front.”\n\n“I’m going to kill you.”\n\n“But you can’t see, already dead.”\n\n“I will make your life a living hell like you did mine.”\n\n“Death, you mean.”\n\nThe next tenants of the house only lived in their new home for three months before putting it back on the market. They complained that the house had issues. The A/C would fluctuate from 60 back to where it had been originally, over and over again. The furniture would move an inch to left, only to be returned to its original spot a moment later. The air itself felt like they were in the middle of a war zone, but had no explanation as to why. Once, the TV fell from its stand, nearly hitting the husband in the head. For weeks, he swore to his wife that he heard someone distinctly saying, “I was just trying to prove you were a ninny. He wouldn’t have *died*.”\n",
"*He couldn't help it,* I think. He's a ghost. He has a duty and he can't stop himself. Yet I still can't quell the bubble of rage that rises whenever he does his nightly howl. When you're a ghost, you get these urges. Urges to kill. And last time I checked, I wasn't insane. When you're a ghost, you can't really sink any lower. You want to take everyone with you. Everyone. Yet Malice as he likes to call himself made it slow. Drawn out. He made me suffer for the month that I was here. And he makes me suffer for the months that I'm not here, the months after I'd Gone.\n\nScrew him. This is my house, this is my death. \n\n\"Come here. I'm waiting. I don't think you're quite dead yet.\" God, there he goes again. I need to face him. I need to put this to an end. And there's only one solution. There's only one way. It's not right. It's a crime unto itself, but it must be done. I need to perform an exorcism.\n\nI'm hiding out in the attic and the cramped quarters are getting to me. Not that ghosts really feel much, but the same old room with nothing to do other than read is not pleasant. Being a ghost is not pleasant. I stand up. I've been sitting down, looking at the wall. \n\nAnd my attention goes to the door. And I walk through it. And my attention goes to the stairs below me. And I glide slowly. And my attention goes to the ghost in front of me, Malice. And I stop. And I stare. My hands ball into fists\n\n\"Ooh, lookie. Look who came down to join me. Poor me, staying down here all alone.\" He feigned tragedy. It didn't suit him. His intense eyes stared right at me, right through me. His face has a mocking expression. Nothing is more fun than this to him.\n\n\"You need to get out,\" I said. I couldn't keep the nervousness out of my voice. And I started. I started the only thing that would rid him of me.\n\n*Be banished, be gone*\n\n*Never visit this one*\n\n*This site will be done*\n\n*Done of the evil*\n\n*Be gone*\n\nAnd I go to the closet, I go through the closet. I open the door and drag my carefully concealed body, my old body, into the space by the steps. Malice was still standing there. He couldn't move, the spell had ensured that. And I took some blood out of my body, only a tiny hole was needed. And I sprayed it over him, I drenched him in his victim. And with that, he was gone. And with that, I had quelled my urge for death. For another few months. There still would be more victims.\n\n_________\nMy first writing prompt! Hope you like it! ",
"\"I said I was sorry,\" I muttered, twisting the top of my glossimer skirt. \"It's not like I was *trying* or anything.\"\n\n\"Not trying?\" Henric shouted. \"Look at me!\"\n\nSquinting made it easier, solidifying his semitransparent form. He was tall, even without the additional three inches he gained from floating. His hair looked white now, rather than the black it had been earlier, and his eyes had shifted from blue to gray. \"Um, well,\" I ventured, \"you still look hot.\"\n\n\"I'm *dead*.\"\n\nI winced. \"But a hot kind of dead,\" I assured him. \n\n\"You--you're crazy.\" He began pacing back and forth, the red carpet undisturbed beneath him. The only thing moving beside him was the tree outside, swaying back and forth in the storm. Watching it through the window made me feel vaguely seasick. \n\n\"A century of death will do that to a girl,\" with a sigh I stood up. \"Look, it was an accident.\"\n\n\"You threw me down the stairs!\" He jabbed a finger at the steps behind him, then pointed it at my face. \"How is that an accident?\"\n\n\"First off,\" I said as the tree outside groaned, \"I did not *throw* anyone. I just said 'hi.'\"\n\n\"What did you think was going to happen?\" Henric roared. \"A dead chick pops out and life is all sunshine and roses? No, I *run like hell.*\"\n\n\"You trip and fall is more like it.\"\n\n\"Shut up. This is your fault.\" He resumed his pacing, and I made a rude gesture at his back. I'd learned that while watching t.v. over his shoulder last week, when he was still alive and could use the remote. \"I saw that,\" he growled at me. \n\n\"Whatever. You're being a total jerk.\" Lightening struck, its fingers slashing through the sky. \"It was an accident, I apologized, and there's nothing more either of us can do about it.\"\n\nHe spun, his shirt appearing striped with the wallpaper visible through it. \"You killed me.\"\n\n\"I just wanted someone to talk to. You know how long it's been?\" This time, when the lightening hit it was close enough to rattle the windows. \n\nFor a moment he stopped, meeting my eyes before looking away. \"Just... tell me how to get out of here.\"\n\nI shrugged. \"You think I'd still be here if I knew?\" I didn't bother following him as he started around the room again. Rain beat against the windows as the tree waved madly. I saw Henric reach for the window. \"I wouldn't do that if I were you.\"\n\nHe set his jaw and laid a palm against it. I flinched when he did. It'd hurt, a lot. Touching anything towards the outside felt a bit like sticking a hand against an icy pole--then having to peel your skin off to let go. He yanked his hand back, then stared as his whole arm rippled. Dark gray blisters rose and burst in waves of agony before his form settled again. \n\nI rubbed my arm in memory. \"No matter how you go at it, or how many times you try, the walls won't let you out. They'll only hurt you. Bad.\"\n\nHis skin smoothed, the gray dissipating, but he did not move.\n\n\"It sucks, ok? Being dead sucks.\" I said, as gently as I could. \"But it could be worse.\"\n\n\"How?\" The single bleak word hung between us. \n\n\"You could be alone. For a hundred years.\"\n\nHenric turned and glared. I simply offered another shrug and strode back towards the kitchen. \n\n\"Don't believe me? That's fine. There's plenty of time to argue about it.\" I glanced back at him and raised an eyebrow, \"But first, want to know one of the perks of being dead?\"\n\n\"What?\" he said cautiously, as he stood framed before the window.\n\nI quirked a half-smile. \"You're story hit the news. We're totally going to get ghost hunters.\"\n\nHenric stepped after me automatically. \"What? Can they, like, hurt us?\"\n\n\"Hurt us?\" I laughed. \"We're dead. Only those outer walls can hurt us now.\"\n\n\"Then what's so great about ghost hunters?\"\n\nGrinning at him, I stepped through the inner wall. \"Ever heard of Peeves?\" The grin shifted to all-out mischief. \"Well, he ain't got *nothin'* on me.\" "
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[WP] The City Sleeps Alone Tonight | 5 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"I was once a major city in Ukraine. I had everything. The people who worked in the tower that was the foundation of my economy had no idea that the accident would happen until that day. It was the worst thing that happened to me. I lost everything. I don't hear any happy voices of children and adults in my amusement park. \n\nAll I hear is the wind,the rain and the scurrying of animals on the ground. If I could fix it somehow,I would. I'm so lonely,especially when I go to sleep.",
"People call New York \"The City That Never Sleeps\", and for good reason. This little 'burg, though. It would be better called \"The City That ALWAYS Sleeps\". With only 400 residents tucked away deep in Southeastern KY, Lynch is just about the quietest, most unassuming town you could imagine. The only store is a small mom-and-pop convenience mart at the bottom of the hill, and more than half the homes are empty. Not much has changed here since the 1950's, from the architecture to the lack of PC culture. Kids ride their bikes down dusty roads that wind around the coal mines and back through the holler. Nothing of note really happens here, and that's the way folks like it. Those that have stayed, that is. \n\nThat's why everyone was so surprised when the commotion began around 6 pm yesterday evening. At first, folks assumed that there had been a cave-in or unintentional explosion, but the rumbling didn't stop. It kept growling and rolling, shaking the ground slightly, and growing steadily in intensity. The miners were sent home while the foremen scratched their heads and rechecked their equipment. Everything was shut down, and no one could explain where this growling rumble was coming from. \n\nTownsfolk tried to go on with their lives, ignoring the sound, expecting it to stop and be explained within a few hours. But, that didn't happen. By midnight, the sound had grown from a low rumble to a deafening roar. Children wailed in terror, and adults screamed to be heard over the din. Still, there was no source identified, no reason discerned. Throughout the night and right through the next day, the people of the town huddled together, trying to make sense of the terrible Sound. It continued all the way up to 6 pm tonight, when it suddenly stopped. Along with it, stopped every other sound in Lynch. Babes lay silent in their cribs, parents looked around with panicked eyes and no words on their lips. No crickets chirped in the evening gloom, and the leaves in the trees moved without a rustle. \n\nThe silence was more deafening than the Sound."
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"1475406266",
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[wp] You're shopping at a huge Home Center when you hear automatic gunfire from the far end of the store. You and the 3 strangers in your aisle look at eachother like 'WTF?!' You spring into action and begin whispering orders... | 0 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"\" you Blondie grab those propane tanks. And you big guy do you have the keys to this department? \" I quickly whisper as the gunshots get closer. The big man in the blue vest nods and fumbles for the keys \" good grab some guns and ammo while me and Blondie here set up those tanks as traps \" I say with a practiced ease from years leading my team in Call of Duty \nThe big guy crawls the three aisles over to the gun display while the blonde teen and I set tanks along the main walkway....I prey this works as well as it did in level 16.",
"Gunfire? Yes, definitely gunfire. It's actually happening.\n\nMy handgun is in my right rear inner waistband. \n\nShit. Why did I bring the Ruger today? Sure, it's less bulky and more comfortable, but if they've got automatic weapons they may have body armor as well. A single-stack seven-round magazine isn't going to do anything but piss them off. I have an extra magazine and one in the chamber. \n\nFifteen rounds. Shit, shit, shit! They're firing that many in just a couple seconds. I can distract them at the very least. Force them into cover. If I save one it's worth it.\n\nThey're on the side of the store, not the front entrance. Why the fuck are they here? Why did they start there? People will be flooding out of the front entrance and I need to keep them out of crossfire. I have to go toward the back of the store and draw their fire there. \n\nThat's a stupid sweater. I grab her shoulder as the second volley of twelve or so shots ring out. \n\n\"Stay low, follow the edge of the store to the front entrance. Call for help as soon as you're out.\"\n\nI flash my weapon, \"Tell them I'm helping. Go.\"\n\nI make my way toward the rear of the store as quickly as I can while keeping my head down, weapon still holstered. I don't need anyone thinking I'm the fucking maniac on my way.\n\nI may not make it out of this, but I'll be damned if I'm dying with any rounds unspent.... \n"
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1,
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"1475406474",
"1475408700",
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[WP] The hero must destroy the necromancer, not because he is moral and it must be done, but because he's suicidal and wants to stay dead | 139 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"A continuation of a [previous writing prompt](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/4zz37y/wp_you_are_a_freshman_in_a_school_where_everyone/)\n\nI looked at Michael with a mixture of pity and joy. His efforts at redeeming himself hadn't paid fruit like he'd thought. He was still here, still bound to the mortal plane, just like I was. It had been a few years since my days at the academy. Despite my best efforts, demonstrations of power and control beyond any of the faculty, let alone anyone in history, the powers at be decided that, for some reason, I had to be a super villain. \n\nI knew he had friends, but what I didn't know was how far they would go to keep him happy. If they knew that I too could spill their secrets, they might not have been so eager to take his side. I guess they didn't get the high marks in espionage and terrorism that I did. I don't like sneaking around and blowing things up, but hiding in plain sight is a skill I've found need of all to often. Still, someone periodically recognizes me, either from my academy days or they catch a glimpse of me at night. Especially a full moon like tonight. \n\nI pity the revenant I've made, not because I bound him so well to this plane, but because he still can't see that redemption isn't about saying sorry, or being a better person. It's about making amends for the past, undoing what you can, and compensating the injured where you can't. Whether or not actually killing me is going to set him free is irrelevant. He doesn't see that even if I do die and he's no longer bound to his body, he'll still be very much bound to this plane.\n\nJust as bound as I am, despite the fact that, after I'd long given up searching, he actually found what had become my Phylactery. I had found love and happiness in college. I'd actually thought I'd evaded everyone, but I was wrong. I gave my fiancee my grandmother's wedding ring as an engagement ring. Then the CIA made an attempt on my life, and she died as a result. I've never been able to love again. \n\n\"Of all the things. I never thought that would have been what bound me here. It won't save you Mr. Smith. Even if you set me free, you're still stuck here until you've truly atoned.\" He smashes the ring under his boot. It hurts to see something of Grandma's that I had to go through such efforts to find be destroyed, but the return of my body to the mortal state more than makes up for it. \n\n\"So, you've crushed it. I'm no longer bound to it. What's next, a bullet through my...\" He doesn't let me finish. Poor fool. Now he has to add my murder to the list of things he must atone for. A familiar voice comes from behind me.\n\n\"Why did you always take the high path, why did you always want to help people?\" \n\nI turn and see my fiance, Laura. She's smiling because she's happy to see me. She's sad because I'm dead. \"The same reason you wanted to be a doctor for Doctors Without Borders, the same reason Might Man runs that underground hacking ring for unwilling villains like me. There's too much wrong with the world, too much that shouldn't be. I wanted to make a difference, a good difference.\" \n\nMicheal Smith, at this point, is screaming in the mortal plane. He's emptied the rest of his magazine into his own skull, to absolutely no effect. I was hoping he wouldn't do that. It's one of those unpleasant facts about destroying a Phylactery, you put a single drop of blood on it, both it and the lich bound to it come back. With some luck, he won't get blood on it. \n\n\"They told me that you've still got a lot of work to do, I just wanted to tell you it's OK. You can go back, for both of us.\" She always was a giving person. I feel absolutely terrible for even thinking of taking her up on it, but she's right, there's still so much more I can, and arguably must, do. \n\nI hug her, holding her tight and close. \"I miss you so much, I'm so sorry I got you killed.\" \n\n\"You didn't kill me, people like him did, perhaps you can do something about that.\" She's right, not only can I do something about that, but if I ever really want to die I have to. I could never truly rest if I didn't. \n\nMicheal is about to realize that I'm not just a Lich, I'm a specter as well, and those don't leave until their quest is done. \n\n\"I'll miss you.\"\n\"I'll miss you too.\"\n\nMicheal is crying out about how it's unfair as my body, in the form it should have been, begins to turn into the glowing coals of a house fire. The skin turns to a superfine ash which begins blowing into an altogether different form: that of a boy on the verge of his teen years, burned beyond recognition.\n\n\"No. No, no, no...\" He stares at the cloud forming in front of him, taking the shape that he's come to know all to well. He hasn't seen my Spectral form, only my undead form. The body before him becomes wreathed in blue flames, and the eyes open to reveal two orbs of glowing red light. The flaming horror that is my form simply pushes him away, picks up the shattered ring, and rubs it into his blood. Instantly, I change back to the half spirit, half charred flesh that my enemies, and friends, have all come to know. I put the ring on my pinky finger, and rise.\n\n\"You see, I can't rest until men like you stop ruining life for everybody else. Maybe if you stopped being a shit ball, we'd both get what we want.\" \n\nWith those words, I once again teleport to my lair. I hate calling it that, but being that I've buried it a good fifty meters below the basement of Area 51, it very much applies. My yorkie starts yipping immediately, happy to see me after a day's work. I reach down and pet him.\n\"Hi little buddy!\" ",
"No one understands. They can't! They simply can't!\n\nIt started in the great battle against the Dark Lord. His empire had threatened to consume the entire continent, but we stood against him. My men and I held back their hordes and made their lives hell. For months we stood our ground until he was so fed up with our resistance that he personally came to the field of battle. I engaged him in single combat, fighting for nearly an hour, until I finally landed a mortal blow and keeled over in exhaustion. \n\nI was told it was less than an hour before that wizard arrived and woke me from my mortal slumber. He brought me back to life and simply stated that I still had more good to give to the world. He claimed that I was not fated to die that day. \n\nI wish I had. \n\nThe afterlife is nothing short of paradise. I saw the friends I lost, ate meals beyond compare, and laughed with the stories the strangers told. He yanked me out and threw me back here. After being in the light, this world is grey and miserable. \n\nI tried to die a few days after being back home, but that wizard did something. I cannot die now, whether it is my hand or that of an enemy. \n\nI will find him and demand to be given my afterlife. It is all I care about now.\n\n-Journal of the once great hero, Joral Sigath",
"######[](#dropcap) \n\nI remember when The Dark Lord first emerged from the Ashes of Merlin, and I rose to fight against him. There are details missing from that distant time, of course. Misty and illusive things to me now, those memories are nothing more than faded pieces and fragments that I might still discover in the fog of my thoughts- stumbling on their shapes only to lose in an instant back to the depths they once emerged. \n\nIt pains me to realize them; to taste the bitter knowledge that I can no longer comprehend the fullest extent of my loss.\n\nA *hero* though... I can still remember that. It was my role when I was alive, you see. Rodrick of the Black Sword, Champion of Knights, Warrior of ballads, and keeper of many other titles I've surely lost with the passage of time: So it was that I fought threats to those who might bring harm to my Kingdom's people.\n\nThere were others like myself, emboldened in this task, for it was not just I alone who stood against the Dark forces that emerged to threaten the world. Those old beings of legends and graying beards, some of which might still persist in the songs of far-off lands: Dragon Riders of the Northern Tribes, Berserkers of the Desert Sands, the Bands of the Mighty Falcon, and the Priests of the Illuminated Lord. To say they were all Bitter enemies would be understating their hatred for one another, yet still they joined forces together for the sake of strength: United hope of defeating the Great and Terrible Mage of Darkness their only goal.\n\nFrom afar, I watched as those mighty armies crashed ahead with lighting and anvil clouds above their heads. The horns blasted sound behind my ears, trumpets of glory muffled by the thunderous cries of men heading towards war. That precious sun above our heads soon was covered by thick clouds of gray, and even the most heroic of shouts seemed quiet lies before our charge into its midst. I heard the screams of our ally's demise over the roars of our own soldier's shouts, and I believed with certainty in that instant we rode towards what a certain death.\n\nAn honorable death, perhaps, but still a death all the same.\n\nI did not hesitate in the face of it though, for our purpose was clear even with such a threat before us: For the good of the world, the Dark Lord had to meet his end. Into the riling abyss of allies and enemies, we crashed like the fist of an angry god upon the seething ranks of warriors.\n\nIt was only moments until my stallion was brought to an early end, screaming in pain as it threw me to me into the bloody carnage of the ground below. My armor sloshed in the soaked and riled muck: A place where magics flew through the battle field like acid rain, where undead soldiers ripped themselves from the ground and graves, pulling down our own warriors with horrible and sickening bursts of death and violence. I witnessed a dragon pierced by ten thousand arrows of shadow to plummet down on unfortunate souls below, and then I watched it rise again: Scales withered and wings shaved to bone. \n\nHundreds of thousands died on both sides, but that horrific touch of magic would always bring them rise again. Skeletons reforming along tendrils of dark mana, corpses repurposed to whatever ends he sought. For all our careful planning, our own strength was slowly being turned against us.\n\nStill our charge continued- desperate as it was. His soldiers were weak for all their numbers: Far weaker than the sword I wielded. I had slain a thousand enemies before it, and I crushed hundreds more that day alone with that violent arc of blackened steel. Behind my onslaught clearing a path, the surviving troops rallied, and together we cast a spear of men- driving deep into his armies and past them. On that bloody ground, I reached the Dark Lord and took terrible satisfaction in his look of disbelief. \n\nHe'd not expected such a feat. From the man who had thought to rule the world, never again have I seen such a look upon his face. Wounded and fatigued as I was, when I broke through his final guard and made my final charge: I drove my sword home. I drove it deep. \n\nThough his chest it did pierce, to fountain a surge of red victory. It seemed even the great God of Death might find himself a slave it's tendencies: All men die, after all.\n\nThen... *Then...* I remember it even now- though it is a struggle. Even now as all but my most powerful memories fades off into the dark of the great-beyond, as my purpose is lost like rusting steel left to the constant rains. I can still summon the memories of his horrified expression sliding towards a sinister smile, pale lips curling as the chants bubbled from the bloody foam that crowded his face and beard. The Dark Mage cast a single motion, hand reaching out to rip back in a single vicious tear- dragging the last of my life with it.\n\n*Soul Drinker.* \n\nThat is how many know of the Dark Lord Gillian now, and that is how uncountable others have met the same fate as I did that day. When my body arose, it bowed despite the rage I felt inside: It submitted to his demands as a matter of course, and forced me to turn on my former comrades- shedding not a single tear for their screams of mercy.\n\nUndead... How strange a thing it is to become. \n\nMy body and flesh slowly fade from their importance beneath the Black armor, the likes of which is now bewitched by the unseen magics of power residing far within the steel. My mind too has faded, memories lost and with it my sense of self. Perhaps in a way I am no longer undead, but *undying:* For what little remains alive of who I was, the rest of my being has already left this world- likely waiting at the gates of another great-beyond for true passage.\n\nFor all that of my slow decline, the Dark Lord has not changed since that fateful day. His youthful features are ever enduring against the passage of time, his wit and tongue sharp as ever, and his powers only seem to grow. Although, it is not without some shifting: With the years comes slow and roiling undercurrents in his moods. The Mage has taken greater and greater risks, paid less attention, failed to mind the expansive reach of those under his control.\n\nNot forgetful- No, for his mind is fine as it ever was, a Genius unparalleled as Merlin who raised him: But growing in its decisions to overlook, to expand its ignorance in all but those fewest things he deems important enough to hold his attention.\n\nIt is in this thin gray-area of unknowing is where I raise my quiet banners of resistance.\n\nBetween his summons and orders, my battles now are much smaller things than I'd likely have imagined waging. A slow campaign of horrible fights with little glory, barely a single distant hope of a true victory on the horizon next to the persistent needs of survival. I continue on, holding what sense of self remains until the next war comes, enduring and crumbling what little things I can beneath my armored fist. \n\nI will undo his accomplishments as the elements bring ruin to even the most masterfully crafted works; in tiny cracks and seams. I will survive to see him dead, but not for glory, nor for the good of this world I remain. \n\nNot for vengeance, not even for the memory of that ancient Kingdom I once served- the name of which has long since faded from my memories.\n\nNo: I will see the Dark Lord meet his end, if only so that I may die myself.\n\n----\n\n...\n\n**This is a continuation of a bunch of other writing prompts:**\n\n[*Start here*](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/51f8ag/wp_youre_such_a_powerful_magician_that_life_is/d7bn3g2)\n\n[*Previous*](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/54shgu/wp_arthur_c_clarke_said_any_sufficiently_advanced/d88jsi6)\n\n[Next](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/55o0d9/wp_in_vino_veritas/d8cal7z)"
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1,
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19
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[WP] The world's greatest hero and most infamous villain put their differences aside and team up against a great evil: a dude being a douche to someone on public transport. | 0 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"“We meet yet again Ultra-Mecha-Hitler, and here I’d thought you were destroyed back in Argentina!” he said, his red cape following him in as the doors behind him in the subway. \n“Ah, you have found me at last, Perfect Gentleman-Man, mein persistent foe, and right before I enact mein final plan, or should I say, final SOLUTION.” \nUMH stood up and sneered. He had given up on trying to hide his oversized robotic frame behind a newspaper and old-timey tan fedora, and he shuffled to the aisle. His dual chainguns had not yet begun to spin, but Perfect Gentleman-Man was at the ready anyways. \n All along the sides of the subway, people more or less reacted with minimal interest. They would move out of the way of danger of course, but this sort of spectacle had lost all of its glamor a long time ago, they lived in Dire-City, after all. A name like that has its fair share of foes and villains and even celebrities like UMH and Perfect Gentleman-Man were up to business as usual. \n “When we last met, I thought that mein self-destruct had obliterated you and your allies!”\n “That’s where you were wrong! You and your Ultra-Ubersoldats couldn’t possibly fight a war on two fronts with the Incredibly Considerate Posse and Band of Extra-Special…” Perfect Gentleman-Man trailed off, looking to one seated near him. The entire subway car glanced over at the person, who was blaring some obscure alternative music through his phone near the aisle.\n “Excuse me, sir. Hey, Hi. This lady here has been standing since I got on, and there is an empty seat next to you that she could take if you let her past, it’s becoming a full car.”\n “But not as full as mein railcars were!”-Ultra-Mecha-Hitler shouted, not willing to lose the center of attention so easily.\n “UMH, I’m busy.” Perfect Gentleman-man exclaimed, flabbergasted by the subway man’s inconsiderate behaviour. \n The man looked up and scoffed, then turned up his music even louder. He was middle-aged, and wearing what appeared to be a recently used running outfit, which smelled terrible. \n “Oh that’s fine, I’ll just go back to saving lives and she can stand.” Perfect Gentleman-Man dejectedly said, turning back to UMH. \n “I’m sorry miss.” he added to the girls before turning back to the villain.\n “And I won’t be sorry to have missed you!” UMH spun up his chainguns at last, letting loose a salvo that tore into the doors at the end of the subway car’s doors. They would have hit our Hero had the train not started moving adding to his momentum as he spun to the side. All around people shuddered at the sound of gunfire, but ultimately did nothing else. \n “Drat, I’ll have to have Doctor Chancellor Wehrmacht adjust mein aiming collaborations and...Oh mein Gott, now he is clipping his nails.” UMH was now the one to lose his focus, as the inconsiderate man began to let his fingernails fly across the compartment. One of them even landed on an old lady’s lap. \n “Wow, excuse, SIR, hey, it’s me again, you just got pointed by literally Hitler for your sick behaviour.” Perfect Gentleman-Man added.\n The man made no reaction other than to take off both of his shoes and begin to trim his toenails. He sniffled deeply and grossly without looking at the hero and villain.\n “I wake up in ze morning and think of people like him when I want to remember why I am trying to exterminate ze world.” UMH remarked to himself and the nearest passengers.\n UMH ducked just in time to miss a yellow immobilization beam from Perfect Gentleman-Man’s gloved wrists. Perfect Gentleman-Man did not expect to hit UMH, only keep him focused, otherwise he would have warned the villain like the gentleman he was. \n “Your axis of evil is at it’s end!” he said, trying to finish the matter. “If you turn yourself in I’ll make sure you get your fair consideration at your trial!\n “I’m never going back to ze courts! Not after Nuremberg 2.0! And after this train runs its course, ze courts will be obliterated with ze deathrays I never had ze chance to finish during my first life!”\n “I won’t let you! You are about to have your own person D-Day Hitler, and I’m not talking about the one coming to you in jail...JESUS CHRIST DUDE. Did you just cough into that guy’s face? Alright UMH, let’s push the pause button for a sec.”\n “You mean start a Molotov Cocktail-Ribbentrap? I will for him, this is ridiculous. I cannot concentrate, and you know how good I am at concentrating.” UMH lurched over and bent down to stare at the man alongside Perfect Gentleman-Man.\n The subway car’s occupants again turned to the man clipping his nails. He finally turned towards the present company and spoke, whereupon they both found he also had not brushed his teeth in a while.\n “What?”\n “You have been a douche this entire ride.” Perfect Gentleman-Man said coming to a rest from this brisk walk over. \n “Look at this. You put your bag up on ze seat and there are still many, many others around. This fraulein has been standing since she came in. I’m not one for Perfect Gentleman-Man’s manners, but come on.”\n “Well, I like me and my personal things to be comfy and close.” The man said in the dumbest voice imaginable. \n Ultra-Mecha Hitler could not hold in his rage at the audacity (and clearly poor grammar) and began to spin up his chainguns. But Perfect Gentleman-Man held up his hand.\n “Look, this is public transportation. PUBLIC transportation, which means you don’t clip your nails, you don’t cough in other people's face and you don’t blare your weird music for the world to hear. Get some headphones.” he said, his patient nature shining through.\n “In mein vastly superior country, we would know to be better than this to others, no matter what ze ‘caust.” Only UMH knew he has spelled “cost” incorrectly the way he did, but the effect was the same to his twisted mind. \n “Did you just get done exercising or something? You smell like horrible. How hard is it to wash yourself before you leave the house. Good God, it smells like the liberation of one of UMH’s death camps.” Perfect Gentleman-Man said.\n\t“What I do is none of your biz-ness!\" He said it exactly like that. \"And I’ll have you know, I haven’t had a chance to shower yet.” the inconsiderate man said in futile defense. \n “Then trust me mein friend, I will give you a shower to remember.” "
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"1475451792",
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[deleted] | [WP] Though Earth has many gods, most of humanity's worship is controlled by a few divine beings. With atheism on the rise, making worship scarcer and more competitive, the lesser gods begin to feel cheated by the the more popular ones. The lesser gods begin to plan... | 2 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"\"We're taking over!\" The lesser gods declared.\n\nGod laughed. \"Ha! You want this mess! It's all yours!\"\n\n\"Wait, really?\" The lesser gods said.\n\n\"Oh yeah,\" God said. \"But you have to take over *all* my duties.\"\n\nThe lesser gods talked amongst themselves for a bit, finally concluding \"Well that's the idea, right? We take over everything, right?\"\n\n\"Great,\" God said, \"then I suppose you won't be bothered appearing in [yet another god prompt?](http://i.imgur.com/ll92BPp.png)?\"\n\nThe lesser gods stared in shock. \"Those were all submitted in the space of a few *hours*?!\"\n\nGod nodded. \"You bet. And don't think you'll get a day of rest, [this is what yesterday looked like](http://i.imgur.com/qvZR5f8.png). Good luck getting anything done when everyone on Writing Prompts is putting you into ridiculous situations on a daily basis.\"\n\nThe lesser gods conferred again. \"We've changed our mind,\" they said, \"we don't want any part of this nonsense.\"\n\n\"Good call,\" God said, and the lesser gods vanished.\n\n\"Now,\" God said, \"where was I? Oh, right, [smiting prompt authors for including me!](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/55ozbr/wp_the_gods_of_death_are_bored_and_decide_to_make/d8cinbb)\"\n\nGod pressed the 'SMITE' button and locusts descended and ate avienblue's crops. That amounted to a small garden plot and most of it was weeds anyway, but still, smiting happened."
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"1475495091",
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With all of this talk about virtual reality headsets and the games that are being made for them, I figured this could possibly make a good writing prompt!
I look forward to what y'all write! | [WP] You accidentally fall asleep using your new virtual reality headset. When you wake up, you begin to realize that you are in the world of whatever game you were playing with the VR system! | 2 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"Buh, buh, ... I was watching YouTube on it. Oh dear God! \nI'm trapped on the trending page.\nPlease,... No more... \nOh crap, a 10 hour music video compilation.\nOh CRAP! ITS ON POP SENSATIONS OF THE 2000'S AND 10'S.\n. \n. \n. \n... There's never a hack attack to kill a server when you need one.\n",
"The VR bubble had popped in the early 2020's much like the dot com bubble of the early 2000's. Where there had been many companies, now they were consolidated into few. Google's Daydream VR and Sony's Playstation VR had taken over the headset market. The former charged $20 for headsets which used smartphones as screens, the latter had gotten out of the console business and now made high-end ergonomic headsets for PC under their old console brand. There were competitors, but much like Samsung and Apple in the New 10's, they were barely worth mentioning. Linden Labs' Sansar had become the VR social media of choice after failing to garner much support as an actual metaverse, while JanusVR was the actual browser used to access both it and the \"FireBox Metaverse\" that had sprung up around JanusVR's own html-like open standard.\n\nAs for games, in the same way that the polygon ceiling had killed many platformers and early FPS games in the mid-90s, traditional franchises like Resident Evil, Fallout and Minecraft were unable to get through the VR ceiling. MMOs once again had found their footing, but these were no World of Warcraft theme park questfests. While Star Citizen had been a partial success in breaking through the VR ceiling, the true successes came out of nowhere.\n\nOne of those successes was Hacker Experience 2. HE2 had started life as a 2D game, with an interface that was designed for flat monitors and smartphones, but ironically that very same simple nature meant it could easily be played in VR. All it took was a virtual reality PC in a JanusVR room and, like Netflix in a VR theater, you had everything you needed to be to \"hack the planet\" in the cinematic way real hackers never actually do. The VRPC was divided into a few different pieces, with the gameplay-critical parts like external hard drives having a default form defined by the game, while the monitor, mouse and keyboard were all handled by JanusVR.\n\nI had been playing HE2 for a little longer than you should have, and the clock on the virtual wall read 1:08, which was backed up by the clock in the corner of the game on the monitor. It was Friday night... well, Saturday morning, and the summer heat was making it impossible to sleep willingly, so I decided to keep playing until I passed out.\n\nThere wasn't much going on, so I considered downloading a virtual object for a change in environment. I looked at the things around me... The monitor was an iMac G4 \"iLamp\" which I was too nostalgic about to get rid of. The mouse? The Keyboard? Not much point, since the feeling of your real equipment broke immersion if you chose anything too different from reality. I settled on altering the room instead... but maybe after I close my eyes for a second...\n\nI woke up slowly, and wondered what time it was. Google Assistant hadn't woken me up, so I assumed that it wasn't 7 AM yet. I realized I was still looking at the virtual bedroom I played HE2 and browsed the flatnet with. That's right, I'd fallen asleep with my headset on. My face felt strange, though. I reached for the PSVR goggles to take them off, and realized why. There were no goggles on my face. The room around me still looked virtual, but as I became concerned and checked everything for flaws, I quickly realized they were as solid as if they were the real deal. \"Google, call my roommate.\" I said, hoping this was either a very bad dream or I at least still had a physical form."
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"1475523473",
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[WP] A fantasy world, where mythical creatures are not species, but individuals. There is only one Dragon, Vampire, Werewolf, etc. | 9 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"**Bloodsucker**\n\n---\n\nI tucked my cloak tighter around me, collar flipped up to protect against the wind. \n\nIt was chilly, up here on the mountain trail. I didn’t much like the cold, but I’d already resigned myself to enduring it. There was no place for wimps on this quest, so I wasn’t going to say a word about it.\n\nRegardless, I wished I’d brought the wooly gloves Mom had knit for me.\n\nI trudged along, working my way up the dangerous slope. Ice spotted the trail, and one slip would send me hurtling down to the ravines below. Not a good way to end the day. So I stepped carefully, head down, watching the rocks. It was only when I got to the next corner that I allowed myself to look up for a moment.\n\nAn enormous building rested on the peak of the next mountain. It was a mansion, large doors and windows shutting out the wind and the snow, and two massive towers rising to the sky. It all appeared to be made of rough wood, like a log cabin, and I could easily imagine entire flocks of bats or birds nesting under the eaves of the roof. Not that anything lived up here. I was probably the first visitor in a hundred years.\n\nHopefully my host would be surprised.\n\n---\n\nI finally found myself standing before the massive doors of the mansion. Even though they were simple in design, two large wooden slabs, they were still intimidating. \n\nI reached out, grabbed a handle, and shoved. \n\nWith a groaning noise equivalent to a humpback whale in pain, the doors swung inward. I grimaced. That had probably alerted the creature I was about to confront.\n\nBut just in case it hadn’t, I stayed as quiet as possible as I walked in. Feet creeping along the edges, testing large boards to make sure they were solid, I made my way inside.\n\nThe entire place was built of wooden floorings and massive logs for walls and ceilings. I could only guess how he got it all up here. There were no lights, gas or electric, and it was even colder in here than it was outside, if that was possible.\n\nThe most surprising thing, I have to admit, was that the entire building was hollow. There was only one room, the main room, and the only way to see was from the dim natural light that leaked in through the massive windows.\n\nThere was a carpet on the floor, long and wide and a deep dark red. The entire thing was coated with a thin layer of ice, and every step I took left a blood-colored footprint in the frost.\n\nDown at the end, on a raised pedestal, sat a stone. It was as undecorated as the rest of the building, simple and sturdy. I drifted up to it, examining the flat-faces of the stone. There would be something about it, I knew, something different, a way to tell…\n\nThere. A thin line a foot under the top of the stone. A perfect match, lid to box.\n\nFor a brief moment, I wondered if I could even move it. It looked like a rather heavy stone, and I hadn’t thought to bring anything to move it with.\n\nmy fears disappeared when I touched it. The rock was a thin box, and I was able to shift the top an inch with just a firm shove.\n\nI quickly pulled it back. I had to be ready, fully prepared, before I opened it. Slouching off my backpack, I rummaged through it, finding my equipment.\n\n---\n\nHalf an hour later, I stood confidently once more before the box. It was time.\n\nFlashlight in hand, I put my shoulder to the box and heaved myself against it. The whole thing rocked, and the lid popped free. \n\nFor half a moment, all the air seemed to get sucked from the room and into the now-opened box, and I stumbled forward half a step. It was as if the box- or something in it- were taking a deep breath, after decades of stillness.\n\nAnd then the stone lid exploded upward, flying to the rafters and shattering into a dozen pieces. It was quickly followed by a black blur, a streak that flowed out of the box and into the room, stopping suddenly, in the middle of the room.\n\nAs soon as it ceased moving, I was able to get an actual look at it. With a cloak of dark, torn cloth that reminded me of feathers, it had a hood up, facing away from me. It was glancing around in sharp, quick turns, bird-like, examining the area. And then it jerked in my direction, and I saw its face.\n\nWhite, pale as snow. It’s face was long and sharp, with eyes that were all pupil, totally black. I couldn’t even make out a mouth beyond a thin line, but I knew it was there, and deadly. Glancing up at the feathery good, I realized that the cloak wasn’t pulled up over its head, it was attached. Rather than a hairline, it had these strips of fluttering, black feather-like things, emerging from its skull.\n\nIt stared at me, eerily still. When it opened its mouth to speak, it’s voice was raspy, as if it hadn’t been used in years and years. Which was probably exactly what had happened.\n\n“Huuuman… Are you the oooone who has freed me from my prisooooon?” A thin black tongue darted out, licking its nonexistant lips, and it tilted its head curiously.\n\nI grinned at it. “You’ve got that right, bud. I let you out, but it’s not going to stay that way for long. I plan on taking you with me.” I reached into my cloak, grabbing at the ball of rope I’d stored there for this time.\n\nI hesitated though, when it let out a sharp *hisssssss.* “Yoooou cannot take me away, Huuuuman. I can sense noooo magic. Noooo power. You are foolish, to free me.\n\nIn the next instant, it turned into a blur again, this time dashing right toward me. I had no time to react as it lunged for my throat, and I was launched backwards with the force at which it hit me. I heard it’s teeth close around my neck with a solid *crack*, followed by a ringing in my head as it stumbled backward, hand to its mouth.\n\nI took a deep breath, and stood back up, chuckling. “I don’t need any of that magic, Vamp. I’ve got something different, something you wouldn’t suspect.” I flipped my collar down, revealing the metal band that surrounded my neck and covered my shoulders. “Knowledge of what you are and what you do. Preparation. *Science.*”\n\nIt gazed at me warily, unsure now. It took the hand away from its mouth, and I caught a glimpse of a dark blood. Not mine.\n\nIt flew to the side again, aiming for the massive door that I’d left open. Halfway there, it shrunk, turning from a feathery flow into a feathery flap, a large raven, flapping to freedom.\n\nAs soon as it reached the door though, it jerked to a stop in midair, halted by the grid of steel wire I’d tied over the opening earlier. It tumbled to the ground, and I took one step forward, yanking the net out of my cloak and hurling it over the downed bird.\n\nIt looked up at me with a baleful eye, and I nudged it with my toe. “Too bad, bud. You *are* coming with me, whether you like it or not. And I’ve got some friends who are gonna get quite a shock at your existence.”\n\nI lugged him up, and slung the ropes over my back. This was a solo mission… But next time, I’d have some help. These monsters didn’t stand a chance.\n\n---"
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[removed] | [WP] You are a pimp harbouring a fugitive heir of a deposed monarchy. The heir to the usurper wants to rent your lot for a party. | 0 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"Hi there, \n\nThis post has been removed as it violates the following rules: \n\n\nErotica is not allowed. This includes prompts likely to generate such responses. \n\n\n\nPlease refer to the [sidebar](/r/writingprompts/about/sidebar) before posting. If you have any questions or concerns, please feel free to send us a [modmail.](https://www.reddit.com/message/compose?to=%2Fr%2FWritingPrompts&subject=Removed%20post&message=https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/55r962/wp_you_are_a_pimp_harbouring_a_fugitive_heir_of_a/%0A%0A)\n\n\n---\n\n[Link to the removed post](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/55r962/wp_you_are_a_pimp_harbouring_a_fugitive_heir_of_a/)",
"NSFW Warning. It will take me a few parts to get done everything I want to write, so I'll try to come back to this latter. \n---\n\n\"I only deal in physical assets. No bank accounts, no cash.\" The masked man repeated, for the third time. Each time, the ominous red smile against the white mask seemed to bend further upward. \n\n\"What part of *first prince* don't you understand?\" The agitated prince countered. His two earlier statements varied little from what he just said, and the third was declaring his status. \n\n\"I only deal in-\" The masked man tried to say, but was cut-off. \n\n\"I get it!\" The prince raised his voice, but not enough to attract attention. Behind him, the prince had two guards. \"Five hundred million, physical assets.\" The prince paused to think. \"I can offer you military planes.\"\n\n\"Fourteen F-22 raptors, prepared for shipping worldwide.\" The masked man said, his mask's smile grown larger still. \n\n\"Done.\" The prince said, gritting his teeth. Though the five hundred million price tag might sound like a hefty sum, the jets would be coming from the recently deposed monarchy. \n\n\"Then let's shake on a deal well made.\" The masked man stood up and extended his hand. A tailor-made suit and black gloves covered the masked man, not leaving an inch of skin visible. The prince stood too, and shook hands with the masked man. After agreeing on a place for the banquet, the prince left, followed by his two guards. \n\n\"Master Norman,\" A man emerged from the shadows. He had been in the room the entire time, but stood unnoticed by the prince or his guards. \"Shall we prepare the festival?\" \n\n\"Make it Mongolian.\" The masked man commanded, sitting back down. \"And use the recent crop.\"\n\n\"It will be done.\" \n\nSixty-four hours later, at 2PM, on a Friday, eighteen luxury vehicles converged from six different cities to gather at a mountain villa. In a place where the morning mist lingered all day long, twenty-three of the richest, most influential persons in all of the new monarchy gathered. \n\n\"It was quite the trip getting here.\" Sheldon Backus said, standing alongside Davin Attwater, himself a CEO of a mining corporation and his friend a CEO of an agriculture enginerring corporation. \n\n\"I hope this isn't just going to be another party gathering.\" Davin Attwater sighed, trying to look at the villa through the mist. \n\n\"Let's just head inside, give them a chance before leaving disappointed.\" Sheldon said to his friend, and they both started walking up the paved stone path. \n\nAnother twenty-one people entered the villa in similar ways, and once everyone had entered through the massive iron gates, the luxury cars were driven out of sight. Like a photograph, if the villa was seen from the outside of the mist, it would look exactly the same as it did the previous day. \n\n\"Thank you for coming, everyone.\" The prince, who had been allowed to arrive one hour before everyone else, announced to his guests who gathered around a fountain in the courtyard of the villa. \"I would like to invite everyone inside, but I would discourage curiosity. The villa may be large, but not all rooms are ready to be opened, at least not yet.\" \n\nThe prince entered the doors behind him, and was soon followed by men in the courtyard. \n\n\"It's nice to see you again, Seymour.\" Andrew Paget said once noticing his fellow pharmaceutical CEO. \n\n\"It's been too long.\" Seymour Short replied, shaking his friend's hand. \"How's the TR-43 doing?\" \n\n\"Those television ads were just what they needed to get off the ground.\" Andrew replied, laughing internally on how much money he gained from the deal. \n\n\"Good to hear.\" Symour said, and the two continued inside. \n\nInside the first set of doors in the villa, a large hall awaited the guests. To the left and right, the hall continued on until it branched behind them. Directly ahead, another set of doors stood. Opening those doors, the group continued to the inner chamber. \n\nSomewhere deep inside the mountain, far from the gather of close friends above him, the masked man stood, surrounded by computer. \n\n\"Send the food in.\" The masked man said into his headset, and, in the blink of an eye, twelve finely dressed, and masked, butlers carried platters of food into the inner chamber of the villa. After setting the platters of food on two enormous tables, and without speaking to anyone, the butlers left the room. \n\nThe masked man watched as the elites of society filled golden plates with food from the buffet-style arrangement of platters, and then sat down. The men chatted about a few things, some work related and others personal, and the masked man formulated his plan. \n\n\"Begin phase one on chairs one, two, four, five, six, eight, nine, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, sixteen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, and twenty-four.\" The masked man said, and his plan silently came into action. \n\nBeneath of the tables which were abnormally wide, a system of hydraulics soundlessly lifted nineteen young women to the floor of the inner chamber. Gradually, and without making any sound, they made their way to their targets. \n\nAt first, it was just a hand. Five fingers of curiosity patrolled the waists of the elites, feeling for locations to penetrate inside through. \n\nAt first, several of the men were stunned. After taking a quick look under the table, though, they knew exactly what was happening. A few of the men who were sharing the experience looked at their fellow elites, and they knew others were having the same event under the table.\n\nOnce the young ladies found an opening, they opened it. The young women grasped what some might call the most precious asset, and they began to fondle. When each member was sufficiently stable, the women began to employ other methods. \n\n-\n\nContinuing in part two!\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n"
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[WP] Roll ? number of dice, remember the number and now write a story involving that number without saying that number. | 5 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"*Beep*\n\n“Any luck on your end?”\n\n“No. Too much of the mechanism is wired through the keypad. I can’t figure out what to cut with detonating it.”\n\n*Beep*\n\n“Shit! You’d think he’d of had the decency to color-code his doomsday device.”\n\n“If only. What about you?”\n\n“I have no freaking clue. At this point, a countdown clock would be better than this stupid riddle.”\n\n“Let’s see it: ‘*A prime of small primes sum to another prime, yet their union forms a composite.*’ Who the hell thinks like that?”\n\n“How should I know?! All we have is a five-digit entry, and one chance to get it right!”\n\n“Calm down: we still have a chance. It can’t be a large number, given how short the code is, and it has to do with primes.”\n\n“No kidding, Sherlock. But there’s a ton of prime numbers, and I don’t really remember any past twenty-three.”\n\n“But it said we have to add them to get another prime, and together they’re... not prime? Composite means not prime, right?”\n\n“We still don’t know how many we need to add though! Hell, it might not even use all five digits!”\n\n“... If that were the case, where’s the zero key?”\n\n“What?”\n\n*Beep*\n\n“The number pad. It’s missing the zero.”\n\n“Huh. Evil mastermind, yet too cheap to spring for a full keypad.”\n\n“That actually helps a ton. Hey, hand me your note pad. I’m guessing that the code is the prime equation, minus the signs. If we write out the possible primes first... This all of them?”\n\n“I think? Why only the ones before a hundred?”\n\n“Need to fit the full equation in, and still no zero, right? So if we add up these numbers, we get... These equations.”\n\n“... That’s more than a few.”\n\n“Yeah, but it said ‘*small primes*’, so I’m guessing that it’s this one.”\n\n“Okay... Can’t you rearrange how you add the numbers together?”\n\n“... Dammit. *Sigh*, that doubles-”\n\n“And you can switch which side you have the equals sign on.”\n\n“-quadruples the possible answers. ... Any guesses?”\n\n“Well, that one’s even, so it could be that, but it comes from the rearranged order, and I don’t know about the other three. Any clue about the normal order ones?”\n\n“No, and we probably don’t have the time to test all of them before this goes off. Let’s just... let’s go with this one, and hope for the best...”\n\n*tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, Enter*\n\n*...*\n\n*Beep*"
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"1475556203",
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You can do it | [WP] Write a story set on earth, with no aliens, no superpowers, no mysterious tattoos or numbers, and with no references to god whatsoever | 67 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"Sarah's family always had it a little difficult. Her father was deaf and he wasn't exactly the brightest, so he had a lot of trouble finding a job. Her mother, frustrated by their the problems turned to alcohol in order to drown her problems. Sarah was neither very sociable nor was she too pretty. The fact that she was really shy made her an easy victim for bullies. She has learned to ignore it. Some people even went as far as vandalizing her posessions. She tried to tell the teachers but in the end it would only get worse, so she eventually chose to accept it. She would blame her bullying on her father because he was propably one of the main reasons for her bullying. Her social frustration eventually turned into hate towards him. Nevertheless her father was a good father. He loved his daughter more than anything else in the world and even though he was dumb he still understood how hard it was for his daughter. He would never hold a grudge against her for being embarassed of him. He drove her to school everyday. He would always say \"love you\" in sign language without getting a reply. And every now and then he would apologize to her for putting her through all this trouble. He was pretty much responsible for her since her mother spent more time in rehab than at home. Even though Sarah's father was a great father, it wasn't possible to keep her out of the shit that was going on. Seeing her mother drunk all the time, seeing her father desperately search for a job, things like these had an effect on her and she eventually decided to make some bad decisions. She was drawn into a vortex of self-pity, bad friends, drugs and alcohol. She wouldn't go to school anymore and prefered to spend her time drinking and taking drugs. Her father tried to get her under control but he just couldn't hold it against her. He was too weak to do anything about her problems. One night he recieved the message that Sarah was in an accident. He rushed to the hospital as fast as he could. She barely survived the accident. Sarah's father crying by her bed, blaming himself for not taking action. Thinking about how he should apologize to her and promising he would do it better in the future. He forced weirdly pronounced \"i lOvE yoU!\" unaffected by the continuous monotone \"beeeeeee...\" that fills the room.\n\nThis is the first actual story I have ever written so sorry if it's not very good written. Also english is not my native language so please disregard any errors in grammatics or spelling.",
"Captain Nerion gazed out upon the behemoth of a ship. It's chronolocked hull glowed as it continuously reacted with the Earth's atmosphere. Unlike most ships of this class, it was being built on Earth thanks to its new matter-transmission drive, which would allow it to teleport into orbit and to other worlds. \n\n\"She's a beauty, isn't she?\" He asked his new first mate, who had joined him to oversee the construction of the potentially legendary vessel. \"Every last part is chronolocked; the passage of time won't affect it. This ship should sail the stars for eternity. Even if we find aliens one day, we'll be fine. Hell, only the fist of god could put a scratch in her.\"\n\n\"She's not black-hole proof, sir.\"\n\nThe captain nodded. \"As I said, the fist of god. I'm trying to be poetic here.\"\n\n\"Sorry, sir.\" His various tentacles drooped in mild embarrassment. \n\nThe captain took a moment to examine his first mate; a hundred years ago, the man would have been called an alien. Today, he was just a human man with a bit too much enthusiasm for genetic modification. Ignoring the first mate's odd appearance, Captain Nerion decided to ask instead, \"Have you gotten your brainjack hooked up to the ship's wifi yet?\"\n\n\"It's on now? Hmm...\" He closed his eyes and mentally accessed the network. \"What's the password again?\"\n\n\"It's *humanityfuckyeah,* no caps, no spaces.\"\n\nHe opened his eyes, then pinged the captain's standard-issue brainjack. The captain mentality sent back his own ping - a 👍🏻 emoji. A second later, the first mate's brainjack finished downloading the captain's custom skin; as seen through his retina display, an intricate set of moving, holographic tattoos appeared on the captain's skin. \"All good, captain.\"\n\n---\n\nGoal|Comment|Completed\n:--|:--|:--\nOn Earth|It's a space port|☑️\nNo Superpowers|Brainjack telepathy is hardly super if it's standard issue|☑️\nNo Aliens|No aliens found, alien-like humans|☑️\nNo Mystery Numbers/Tattoos|Holograms|☑️\nNo Reference to God|The captain was feeling poetic|☑️\n",
"“So, how was the wedding?”\n\nOn the surface it was an innocent question but Shelly had asked it carefully as though it was life or death. \n\n“Well the ceremony was fine. Neither of them are religious so it was … humanist? You know, all about people and love and caring for each other. Irony I know. And the place looked great. When she told me about her plans I was sceptical but I'll admit she knew what she was talking about.” Jane sipped her tea and smiled “You want to hear about the dress?”\n\n“Oh yes” Shelly nodded eagerly “Was it as bad as you thought?”\n\n“It was lovely. Really suited her.”\n\n“What?”\n\n“I know” Jane laughed “The way she describe it to me … but once I saw it, it was lovely. I mean she told me about the pleats and the beading and that knot in the back, but it wasn't like I imagined at all. I couldn't describe it to you any better than she did though, it's one of those things you have to see it to really get it.”\n\n“So you had a good time then?”\n\nJane's face became a slight scowl. “The ceremony was nice but I didn't stay for the reception. My Aunt invited him.” \n\n“Oh” was all Shelly could say. She never quite knew what to say to help Jane when they talked about him. “So, what did you do?”\n\n“I went up and said congratulations and it had all been lovely but now I had to go. Pearl knows what he's like so she nodded and said thanks for coming and that was that. Sort of.”\n\n“What do you mean sort of?”\n\n“Her mother was near enough to overhear and couldn't stop herself from telling me I was ruining my cousins big day by being selfish and petty and I should go over and apologise to my father right away. Because I was the one who caused all the trouble.”\n\n“No! What did you say to that?”\n\n“I told her that manipulation and emotional blackmail was why I'd stopped speaking to him, and it wouldn't wok on me any more, so stop trying. We … shared a few more words and when I was leaving Pearl was busy shouting at her mother about why she just couldn't invite extra people to her wedding without asking her. Especially people who she had repeatedly said were banned from the event.”\n\n“So bit of a disaster at the end then.”\n\n“Yea and frankly I'm not surprised. Weddings bring nothing but trouble. They just turn everyone involved into arseholes who can't talk about anything else but their wedding. And it's always the same boring stuff, and the same jokes in the speeches and don't even get me started on the music. Frankly I am sick to death of weddings. If I get invited to one more sodding wedding this year I'm going to go nuts and smack that stupid smile from their faces. Cause they just can't wait to brag about how romantic the proposal was and how happy they are. And then expect you to spend a few thousand to fly to their destination wedding of the other side of the world with the expensive gifts they don't really need. I'm just sick of all of it.”\n\nShelly cringed a little and pulled something from her pocket. It was a ring. Jane looked at it and almost dropped her mug.\n\n“He didn't?”\n\nShelly nodded “Last night.”\n\n“You know I didn't mean it … about weddings. I'm so glad ...”\n\n“Don't worry” Shelly smiled and slipped the ring onto her finger “we're planning on eloping.”\n\nJane jumped up and hugged her friend tightly “Oh Shelly,you've made me so happy.” ",
"The general looked his commander-in-chief dead in the eye.\n\n\"There's 666 of them, mein Führer.\"\n\n\"666? That's... That's an interesting number,\" the man replied, \"Are we quite positive about this figure?\"\n\nThe general's expression shifted ever so slightly towards annoyance.\n\n\"No, mein Führer, a rough estimate only. I really wouldn't put too much thought into this--\"\n\n\"Do you not see?\", the man interrupted him, \"If so few of them them have been able to lay waste to our greatest cities in less than a day, surely the Gates of Hell themselves have opened up to us!\"\n\n\"Again,\" the general said, \"The *Sicherheit* urges you not to pursue the, um, *demonic* option as our primary line of thinking, but rather to look for a sensible, more rational explanation.\"\n\n\"The Sicherheit may well believe that, but where lies our first response? Our retaliation? Where are my *Übermensch* super-soldiers to deal with this threat?\"\n\nThe general let out the slightest of sighs.\n\n\"As you are well aware, mein Führer, that project lies quite literally still in its infancy stages. Again I would put my trust into a well-coordinated assault coming from all branches of the mili--\"\n\n\"What about aliens?\"\n\n\"No, sir.\"\n\n\"And the Americans? They must be involved in some way.\"\n\n\"We have no reason to believe they would disrespect the Treaty of Buckingham. The Japanese have overseen their demilitarization since '47 and they show no sign of--\"\n\nThe man scoffed and gestured his general to stop.\n\n\"I already know all that. But what, then? What are they?\"\n\nThe general hesitated a moment as he handed the report over to his boss.\n\n\"Our top scientists have not yet come to a full conclusion,\" he said, \"All we know is that they are humanoid, but made of metal rather than flesh, stand over 50 feet tall, are red in colour with a yellow star in the middle of their chest, and wield a giant sickle in one hand, and hammer in the other.\"\n\nThe man's mouth fell open.\n\n\"Then why didn't you say so before? *Verdammt noch mal*, it's the Bolsheviks who've finally decided to violate Molotov-Ribbentrop. After 10 years, no less! Fetch me Traudl, I will at once send a telegram to Stal-- *W-When did you get this strange text written on your arm?*\"\n\n\"This tattoo?\" the general asked as he pointed to his wrist, \"I can hardly believe you did not notice it before, mein Führer. Every soldier in the Afrikakorps received it to commemorate our great victory at El Alamein. That is what it says in Arabic.\"\n\n\"Well, Erwin, my old friend,\" said the man, \"There was certainly a time when I did not trust you as much as I do now. But let me say this to you, if these predictions from the Sicherheit are indeed anywhere near correct, then this is the greatest threat our Thousand-Year Empire faces since the end of the Great Unification War.\"\n\nThe general nodded in silence as the man continued speaking.\n\n\"I would even go so far as to say that I do not place my faith in the great strength and iron will of our people this time round, but rather in the mercy of God.\"\n\nThe general looked positively flustered after hearing these last few words.\n\n\"Mein Führer,\" he said, \"I'm afraid I don't understand. The mercy of *who* exactly?\"",
"\"Order, order!\" Mariah Jones called out, \"I call this emergency town hall session to order! Now settle down.\" The cacaphony of the audience hushed itself to a murmur.\n\n\"Let's begin this meeting now, at 10:46 AM, on the morning of Wednesday, October 26, uh...\" Mariah quickly looked up to try and figure out what year it was, then remembered and concluded, \"2016.\" The crowd nodded in tentative agreement.\n\n\"We're here today in this emergency session to discuss the fact that our head numbers are missing now, and what we're gonna have to do about it.\" The audience started building their crescendo of noise again as they all looked over each others heads and saw nothing.\n\n\"Now, I know this carries huge implications for our society, not having any of our human metrics anymore.\" Murmured assent. \"But we're going to have to figure out a way to get along, and we can't stop judging people by the big green number over our heads.\"\n\nA man in the back piped up, \"Wait, you mean 'number of convenience stores visited in the last week'?\"\n\n\"No, Mr. Smith, the other big green number that says how much money we've earned in the last month. The one next to the pink number. Isn't the convenience store number kind of small, and behind a blue number?\" Mariah corrected him.\n\n\"Oh yeah, the blue number that said how many times today someone was thinking of us romantically!\" A girl up front excitedly squeaked out. She looked up to check it, and was immediately silenced when she saw nothing but florescent lights.\n\nA rather bold-looking tall girl in the middle stood up. \"Well, how are we supposed to protect ourselves from criminals, now that we can't see the red 'crimes committed in this lifetime' number on the left?\"\n\n\"Well--\" Mariah tried to add, before she was cut off again.\n\n\"And I'm seeing a cute girl,\" this time from the back, \"but I have no idea what her 'romance credit rating is', the pink one that's behind the black 'letters in middle name' number! I don't wanna get trapped in an abusive relationship!\"\n\n\"That's easy,\" Mariah quickly interjected, \"just check her brown 'number of times you slapped someone else' numb... oh, right.\"\n\n\"Look, I think one of three things is going to happen here, people. Either we dissolve into chaos because we don't have a goddamn rainbow of numbers overhead,\" Mariah added, expecting the rainbow-colored 'number of times you've said rainbow in your life' number to increment over her head, then sighing, \"or we're going to have to write these numbers down and ask people about them, or finally, we can just fucking trust people,\" she concluded, relieved that the white 'number of F-bombs dropped' didn't count up in front of the whole town hall meeting.\n\nEveryone grumbled something about trust and filed out of the room. Oh lord.",
"Why did you leave the cat? The stack of LPs you took, but the cat you left? You don’t even have a record player. And meanwhile, Daisy and I spend our days staring at each other. She’s telling me as plainly as she can manage, “You drove her away.” The cat blames me. And I told her – actually told her – “She left you behind. She didn’t want you. So don’t look at me like that.” I told the cat that. And she just kept on looking at me.\n\nYou left a sweater in the back of the closet. I don’t go in there, but Daisy does and she found it. She clawed it and tore it and rolled around in it, and eventually, she fell asleep in it. The first time I saw it she was wrapped so tight in the folds of the thing, I thought for a second the sweater was breathing. Lying there and breathing in your old closet. But it was the cat. She did that for a week. Then she figured it out. I don’t know what tipped it for her, but she put it together. I threw the sweater out. \n\nDaisy’s like me in this: she didn’t stop doing what she does because you left. You remember Karen? I didn’t talk about Karen much because you didn’t want me to talk about Karen, but Karen was before you and she broke my heart. Really broke it. I didn’t want to die when she left; I wanted to never have been born in the first place. But that’s good, in a way. I got over it. And then you left and it hurt, but nothing will ever hurt like that time with Karen. That’s my way of saying, I guess, you aren’t that important. I’m not trying to be malicious or anything. It’s just the truth. And Daisy’s the same way. She’s pissed you’re gone, but she didn’t stop eating or anything. She didn’t stop chasing spiders and the reflection off my wristwatch. She stills naps in the window. She just looks more pissed off when she wakes up. I don’t think cats have much room in their lives for love, but I think with Daisy maybe she tried for you. And you left, so now she knows better.\n\nAnd don’t think that just because I’m seeing the cat’s point of view, that I like the cat or that I’m glad you left the cat. *You two need each other. You can take care of each other.* Fuck you for writing that. Leave if you want. Steal my shit if you need to. But don’t pretend that you’re doing anyone a favor. Even the cat knows you’re full of bullshit. \n\nBut I’ll tell you this: I had a dream the other night. I don’t remember it very much, but it’s one of those edited dreams, where you’re seeing things you’ve done and places you’ve been, but it’s not a real memory. Like a messed up collage of old faces and places. But anyway, it was you and me and we were in Napa. I didn’t have much fun on that trip, but seeing it in my dream it was beautiful and exciting and just a big fucking blue sky parade for me and you. And I was seeing you like I never saw you in real life – just *otherworldly*. It was making my chest hurt and my heart race and I was twisting around in the bed and probably saying things, who knows. It was beautiful and it was terrifying. I wanted out of that dream so badly and I couldn’t wake up. I couldn’t get out. \n\nThen the fucking cat bit my hand and I woke up. I look around and I’m all tangled in the sheets and it’s 3 in the morning and Daisy’s on the bed, staring at me. And then she meows. Have you ever heard her meow? I’ve never heard her meow before and here I’m tumbling out of this nightmare and she’s sitting there, meowing at me. She meows and then she hops off the bed, disappears into the dark.\n\nThe stupid cat pulled me back. And not out of love. Nothing’s really changed. There’s no hidden affection there. I feed her and clean up her shit and the rest of the time we ignore each other. But Daisy pulled me away – away from that dream, that nightmare…away from you. \n\nSo I think you might be right, in your usual twisted, self-serving way. I do need Daisy. Just not the way you think. I need her for those moments when I’m weak and I think I somehow deserved it. I need her when all the other goods things run out and I go tearing through that old shoebox, looking for your letters and hoping your phone number’s on there somewhere. \n\nI need her to remind me that even an asshole of a cat thinks I’m worth saving. We may not like each other, but we respect each other. And that’s a hell of a lot more than either of us can say about you. "
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[WP] A horror story that doesn't involve one of the big three (Paranormal, Aliens, or a Psychopath) just to show me it can actually be done. | 435 | [
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"He put his toast in the toaster, he waited 5 minutes, but when he came back, Horror set in his soul, The smell of death was all around him, EVERYTHING WAS TUMBLING DOWN, Then, he saw it, He saw something indescribable, I cannot truly explain, All was wrong, everything was wrong, He realized what has happened, No... It cannot be!... HIS TOAST WAS BURNT! ITS ALL OVER, NOTHING CAN TRULY SAVE HIM! GAME OVER! -The eh-nd",
"Zombies. Hah! People make movies, write stories, and try to creep each other out all the time with dead people shuffling.\n\nTurns out they were kind of right. Trains full of people with one hand out, eyes unfocused and locked on their phone screens. Desperately trying to catch one more Pokemon, one more high score on Candy Crush. Just today I had three people step on my feet because they couldn't be fucked to look away from their phones.\n\nAnd meanwhile before our unseeing eyes, our bookstore sellers disappeared. Our student activists were detained, even when they fled to other supposedly neutral countries. One year ago, faced with the loss of free speech, we'd rioted, occupied the streets of our city. We clogged the financial arteries of our city state and hoped somehow this incoherent mess would form a statement of defiance. How wrong we were. \n\nAnd while our so called leaders smile for the cameras, I wonder how many of my fellow anguished, impassioned students realize our land, our food, water, hell even our stock market was bought up long ago. The leaders let us rage, like ants fleeing hot water and just as useful. \n\nExcuse me, I have to go. It's time for Cultural Education classtime- long live the Party.",
"Survival Horror meets GOT\n\nNuclear Snowball(Title)\n\n 7/2/2063\n\nIn 2019, Under the Trump Leadership America invades Mexico, a civil war breaks out in North America and Canada invades the North, By 2023 the War has reached a standstill.\n\nUnited Kingdom has invaded Ireland and is now the 3rd most powerful country(After China & India) and won a war with Spain after they invaded to take Gibraltar in 2018 and Conquered them.\n\nRussia, With no America to worry about and an expansionist UK running rampant on the other side of the world, Russia invades Ukraine, During the war Ukraine tests a nuclear bomb on Russian troops… Something goes wrong and causes every Nuclear Bomb and Reactor to go up(No one knows why)\n\nA large Nuclear Winter causes even the strongest country’s to become nothing more than City-State like provinces, but with some country’s surviving(Mostly those in Oceania or Africa)\n\nNow, thanks to the work off Oceanic research teams the Nuclear damage is nearly completely averted, but civilization is still dead in Eurasia and American Super continents….. And so is all the things that made us Human. They never removed the Horror though, did they?\n",
"I walked for what seemed miles. The pain only growing worse. I felt faint and weak.\nI made it after what seemed like an eternity.\nI opened the door, but to my dismay... \n\nthe fridge was empty\n",
"After my wife died, it got real hard to stay on top of things. Like, real hard. But I tried, I really tried, God knows I tried, I had four jobs, I was getting three hours of sleep a night for months, but the boys were fed, they were loved, everything was good we were all good and I just needed a break I was overworked please. wait. \n\nAnd then, we'd had a big day, and everything was happening, and I just needed some sleep, and I'm not stupid I knew what I had to do, I cancelled our day out, I told them to look after each other it was only a couple of hours, they're 8 and 3 that's not too young I was still in the house I just needed to sleep and please yes I'm getting to it.\n\nAnd then I was in bed, and there was an intruder I heard him and I ran downstairs and and he was crouched small and he was hurting my baby I heard my baby screaming and I did what any good father would do I took baby Danny and I made him safe and I got rid of the intruder, I kicked him and he bit me and I grabbed him and we fought and Danny was still screaming and Davey came in and I stamped on the intruder and Danny stopped screaming but Davey started screaming and I woke up and saw the teddy in the safe spot and Davey was screaming and I started screaming and I called the police and I only ever tried to do what was right.\n\nPlease, please don't take Davey away from me Your Honor. He's all I have left.",
"I looked over my shoulder as I stumbled over another root. They were strewn all over the ground and made it hard to escape, hard to stay up. I started to feel my chest pumping and heaving with each step. As I tripped and fell again, I risked a glance behind me. A mass of brown, coarse fur was gaining on me. *Up the tree? No, I think they can climb*. I stumbled back onto my feet but my legs start to want to give out. As my feet pumped and my legs burned, I knew I couldn't make it. It was too far. The thudding on the ground behind me was getting louder and more rapid. I turned around to face it. \n\nThe bear's paw clipped me hard on the jaw. I fell to the ground like a wadded up piece of paper. I felt it's hot breath on me and watched as its gaping jaws dove in toward me. My cheek was crushed by its teeth and I felt as I slowly began to bleed out. In my last few seconds, I saw a hunter shoot it and wondered how it could have ended if they had shown up just a little sooner. ",
"I was on my way home from work, my children were alone because the baby sitter decided to leave early for some reason. I pull into the drive way and come rushing to the door, opening it slowly as the kids are playing in their rooms from the sound of it. \n\nThe lights were off though and then I noticed the carpet looked weird, I turn on the lights to see 1000's of legos covering the house floor.",
"I had gotten as far as I had by never trusting anybody.\nI was always the skiddish type. Could never relax. Always felt that someone was watching me, someone was looking to take me out, and I couldn't ever let that happen. All the people I've screwed over the years, because I had to shoot first. But now... I didn't know where to shoot. I didn't know where the next threat was coming from. Every moment I expected gunfire, but it was nothing but eerie silence. I dreaded the moment where one day, I would hear the perfectly aimed shot that would end me. Or maybe I wouldn't hear anything. They were too good for that, weren't they? When I least expected it, all I would feel is wire constricting around my throat before my body went limp.\nNobody saw this coming, not even me. A new order, a system of governments enacting a devastating display of power. Killings on a global scale, to bring down the population and create a new gene pool. I knew they were watching me. I couldn't hide, and there was nowhere left to run. \nI had never trusted anybody. Now, I wished more than anything that I had somebody to trust. ",
"Lionel slapped his gloves against the driver-side door, leaving a dirt and grime imprint behind. He looked along the treeline bordering the road, wondering if he might glimpse a leopard among the brush. They never did come this far from the heart of the jungle, but Lionel scanned anyway, just in case. \n\nLuebo did not have the money for public garbage removal. They paid when they could for men like Lionel to clear away garbage when the mounds along the road became too large. It was unstable and unpleasant work, but he was his own boss and took pride that he was improving his home. As a rain cloud in the distance crossed the sun, briefly darkening the area, Lionel noted he had a couple hours of light left to finish his work. He climbed into the battered truck and started driving to *la dechets*, the Pit. The crater that trash was thrown in was a short drive away from town, along a slow river bordering the forest. At the edge of the pit nearest the road he backed up, and began shovelling out debris. \n\nLionel was nearly done when a noise across the pit startled him, he glanced across it to a group of chimpanzees! Civets, African raccoons, were a guarantee at the dump. Small scavenging monkeys were a safe bet as well. Rarely he might pull up and see hyenas sauntering away but never had he seen chimpanzees. Laying his shovel down he crept closer to the group and watched them scrounge in the garbage. There were only a few, maybe seven or eight but varying all sizes. The largest probably fifty kilos. Intelligent and thorough scavengers, yet surprisingly picky, they cracked open food packages, and sifted through until they found a morsel that met their fancy. Lionel sat in the moist dirt and watched them work for a short while. The chimpanzees dismissed his presence quickly, he was no threat, and there was food to be pried out of containers. They resumed feasting on the easy meal.\n\nSatisfied that there was little left to see, and aware he still had to finish his dump run, Lionel returned to the truck and scraped out the remaining trash. Seeing the bed was as close to clean as it would be, he rounded the truck and slammed the tailgate up, but debris in the hinge stopped it halfway. Caught off guard he took a step back to steady himself- but the damp soil gave way and he fell back into the trash.\n\nLionel blinked up at the rim of the pit, his head propped on a broken T.V.. Aside from his throbbing head, he did not feel badly injured, adrenaline must mercifully be blocking any pain. Stars were just fading into view, only a few minutes had passed since the fall. He tried to lift himself up, but his arm was stuck in place. He rolled his head to see what was pinned it down, but saw nothing. He strained to roll to his side, to get up, to get home, but his fingers would not even twitch.\n\nPanic set in, he rolled his head, putting his chin was against his chest, and saw patches of blood blooming across his torn shirt and pants. Most of him was splayed across a rotted mattress, rusty springs spiralling into him. His eyes jumped to a rib peeking out of his chest, and he let out a weak yell. He silently pleaded to the heavens, breathed deep and tried to call for help, at least he could still do that. Hoping, praying, another worker might hear, he sucked down one more breath and shouted. Silence.\n\nTo his right he faintly heard steps approaching, scrambling through the trash, coming to his aid! He relaxed his neck, eyes fluttering shut, and thanked God that he may live. With the last of his energy he looked to see who his savoir was, and locked eyes with the largest of the chimpanzees. \n\nThe large primate cautiously moved closer, assessing the danger. It stepped onto the mattress, springs creaking under the weight and scanned over Lionel's limp body. It gently prodded at a bleeding spring in his leg and Lionel let out a raspy \"no\" to the chimp. The chimp refused to comply and leaned in to smell the blood. Desperate, Lionel threw his head to the side and saw the other chimps approaching. His heart was pounding in his ears. Springs creaked and his head fell off the edge of the T.V. and onto the bed. The large chimp had crawled onto his waist. his vision jumped as the chimp tugged at his clothes. At this angle he could see the other chimps closing in, his peripheral vision only showing a brown blur moving over his legs. \n\nHe met eyes with a smaller chimp, and desperately prayed it would turn back. It slowed.. until he heard a wet sucking, like a boot in deep mud. All the chimps hurried forward, staring at his chest. His head rolled forwards to see the large one grabbing at the protruding rib, prying open his chest. Lionel was unable to scream, he could not look away. He could only watch as the chimps tore him open, blood pouring out, to get to the choice bits meat. One moved up to meet his gaze, let out a hooting screech and dug in to the easy and fresh meal.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nFirst attempt at one of these. I intended to end with the chimps to now search for villagers sleeping because they resemble Lionel, paralysed on the bed, but didnt see a way to get there :/",
"She couldn't remember how she got here.\n\nShe slowly glanced up from the flame in her hand searching around for some clue or hint as to where she was. The ground seemed to be covered in some kind of dirt and gravel, this hinted that she was most likely outside, but the sky was pitch black without moon or stars to hint at time, space, or location. The black expanse in front seemed to stretch on for an eternity. No visible door or treeline that might indicate her location. She tried walking a bit in one direction then another, but failed to find any objects, people, or anything that might offer some clue as to where she was. A sense of dread and unease began to take hold.\n\nThe nothingness was unsettling. The longer she stared and searched for hints in the void the more she noticed the things that were missing. Aside from an absence of light or sky there was also an absence of sound. No rustling of leaves, no comforting sounds of insects or birds, only silence and the occasional shifting of rocks and dirt as she moved her feet.\n\nThe longer she stood, the more she began to notice how the darkness seemed to lap at her feet as the flame from the lighter flickered in her hand. The circle seemed to bend ever so slightly as the flame continued to burn. She could almost swear the small circle of light was getting smaller. The nothingness reaching closer and closer in toward her heels with each ebb and flow of the light.\n\nShe also began to notice the chill. It seemed to cut through her clothing, even without a breeze. It was as if the nothingness was slowly beginning to reach inside her and envelope the air in her lungs. She tightened her grip on the lighter. It was becoming harder to breath and she was unable to discern if it was due to this place or her growing feelings of terror and panic.\n\nShe called out into the nothingness in, frustration, anger, and fear, then slowly sank to her knees, and began to cry. The nothingness seemed to absorb it all. Not even an echo returned her screams or sobs.\n\nAs her tears began to stain the dirt at her feet she realized she was no longer imagining that the darkness was closing in. The circle of light was beginning to shrink. The light in her hand was beginning to grow dim. Her only source of comfort and guidance was slowly fading away. Soon the cold, darkness, and emptiness would swallow the flame and she would be on her own to face what lay beyond the dwindling circle of light. She could only stare intently at the small lingering flame as she felt the darkness close around her. The moment seemed to hang forever; afraid that if she dared to blink, she would miss the last soft glow; afraid that if she dared to breath the flame would flicker its last. She could only watch as the flame slowly shrank and the looming darkness seeped closer, engulfing what remained.",
"I drive a green hatchback sedan, 2003 model. The A/C blows hot in the summer but the heat works in the winter. There isn't an aux outlet to play an iPod and the CD player broke in 2010 (I can't wait to pry that thing open to see what I listened to then). What a tragedy. I've driven her for ten shitty years and for a little over 200,000 miles.\n\nShe drove me to high school, and then college, to work after I failed that, and back to school to try again. She took me to interview after interview for shit jobs that have embarrassed me. She drove me home to see my family, to new apartments, to friends' homes, drug dealers' apartments, Mexican restaurants. I wouldn't have been able to date the woman I'm with if it weren't for my car.\n\nTwo days ago I started a new shit job as a delivery driver for catering orders and blah blah blah. An 'independently contracted courier'. I'd noticed that my wheels had started squeaking a bit and there was a sort of *drag* when I accelerated, but like most things that make me uncomfortable, I just put it out of my mind. I certainly didn't have the money to pay someone to fix it and I know almost nothing about maintaining a car. *It'll work out,* I told myself, for the thousandth time. \n\n*grum grumgrumgrum*\n\nSo that afternoon I took my squeaky wheels and drove them to a Mexican restaurant out in the sticks to deliver an order to a woman who lived on the other side of the sticks, and thought, \"Hey, that's funny; I can *feel* the road as I drive. Haha, how funny. How *odd.* No worries. *Do not worry.*\"\n\nAfter delivering her enchiladas, I had to drive back to the same restaurant and grab some chips and queso for another woman who lived out somewhere that my GPS had trouble tracking me. My wheels started to shift while I drove and I could hear a scraping noise as something was rubbing against something else. \"*It'll stop. Just wait for it to stop.*\" I have to admit, the noises started trifling with my composure. They wouldn't stop, so I just grew accustomed to them like I had with the squeaky wheels. *\"I'll make some money is what I'll do first, and I'll go in for a diagnostic later and it'll be fine.\"*\n\n*grumgrumgrumgrumgrum*\n\nI was supposed to be done at eight, but I was still driving thirty minutes past. I had gotten lost in a hotel, and was late on the last delivery. They lived in a mansion on a mountain that overlooked the city; a mountain with multiple wealthy residents, and the roads were horrible. Well-maintained, but horrible because they were sloping, curving mountain roads. No street lights or gas stations, just trees and the occasional gated driveway. I had a loose idea of where I was going, but no idea of where I was and my GPS had no idea of where I was. Holy hell, what am I supposed to do when *neither* of us can figure out where I am?\n\n*GrumgrumguRUMPGRUMPGRUMPERCHERMPCHERMPCHERMP*\n\n\"No..God, no. Oh please, God *Fuck!*\" I mashed my brake pedal into the floor and she slowly came to a grinding rest. I turned into a driveway and idled. My GPS said I was floating off-road perpetually. The only lights were my high-beams (always on because my left low-beam is out), everything else was pitch darkness. \nTwo minutes away from my delivery. Christ. Alright. I headed out on foot into the night.\n\nTen minutes later I found their home, their *manor.* \"Hey, sorry I'm late; something's wrong with my car. Here's your sandwiches and cake.\" I was out of breath and scatterbrained. \n\n\"Right.\" He shut the door to eat his food. I loitered for a moment and headed back out to my car, parked somewhere in the night. \n\nShe was where I left her, daring me to get back in, promising it wasn't as bad is it sounds.\nI sat down in the driver's seat and breathed. *I can make it back home. I can make it off the mountain. I can do it.* I started her and turned the wheels, and lurched out of the driveway. \n\n*grumgrumgrumgrum*\n",
"Sarah looked up from the work on her desk. The clock ticked by slow as molasses. 3:55 it read. \n\nFuck it, she thought to herself. I've earned the right to go home early once in a while. \n\nShe placed the documents on her desk in her filing cabinet and logged off of her computer. \n\nShe thought about how nice it would be to spend some time with Jane, her daughter. \n\nShe drove him, wondering what they would do on this crisp afternoon. Maybe mini-golf, followed by some pedicures. It'd been a while, and Jane had aced her first test of the year. She deserved some pampering. \n\nAs she approached the house, she noticed Dave's car was in the driveway. How Odd. He never leaves work early. Maybe he was feeling sick. He said that the flu was traveling around the office. \n\nShe decided to be quiet. She unlocked the door, and was shocked to see Dave's clothing strewn over the floor. \n\nShe walked down the hall way, her chest tightening with worry. \n\nShe heard noises from her bedroom. \n\nShe silently pushed the door open, fearing the worst. Dave was naked on the bed. Some floozy underneath him, moaning in ecstasy. She couldn't see the bitch, but she decided to teach them a lesson. \n\n\"The Guns are for your protection. That why we have them. To protect ourselves. The world's a dangerous place.\" She remembered him saying to her several years ago. She laughed silently to herself as she opened the gun safe. He was the one who had insisted on getting trained, who insisted on weekly target practice. \n\nShe took out her favorite, the Desert Eagle. Still loaded, as it should be in case of emergencies. \n\nA deep fury and anger grew in her chest. She walked over to the door. She debated whether she wanted to say anything to the bastard. \n\nFuck no, she decided. He would convince her to put the gun down. Well Screw that bastard. Wait till this damned bimbo gets an explosion that shell never forget. Her cheating husbands brains all over her. She looked at him. \n\nHe was doing her doggy style from behind still. The bitch was invisible from the door. \n\nSarah smiled evilly to herself. She raised the gun, assumed the correct stance, lined the sights up on the back of that fuckers head and pulled the trigger. \n\nThe sound was deafening in the room without the ear protectors on. Blood splattered itself all over the whore's back and the wall. Dave fell forward on to the hussy's back. \n\nThe Girl started screaming in sheer horror. She pushed Dave off of herself and the familiar face of her daughter appeared, covered in blood from under her dead father's body. ",
"***APPALACHIAN TRAIL***\n\nDAY 1: First time thru-hike! I can't wait to get started. My husband drove me down to Georgia, where I'll start the greatest adventure of my life, as I head north on foot to Maine. The plan is to make it to the end by late August. Better get moving!\n\nDAY 5: Met a few other NOBO Purists, and got my trail name! They took to calling me \"Brownie Jam\", after I shared some of my chocolate-raspberry power bars that I made myself. I feel so connected to the community now! I'm a real Hiker!\n\nDAY 10: Well into TN, now. Making better time than expected, but I know the topography here is much easier than what is to come. Going through my supplies faster than I anticipated. Might have to start setting up some snares soon.\n\nDAY 20: First big storm. What a mess. Came on so fast I couldn't get my tent up in time, and the wind ripped the tarp from my hands and blew it up into a tree. It's shredded, and there's no way for me to get it. I still have the mylar blanket, so that'll do for protection. I really don't want to leave the trail over this. \n\nDAY 22: Haven't seen any other hikers since the first meeting. Weird. I expected to pass a lot more people.\n\nDAY 25: Saw wild boar tracks. Wow. I knew they could be in this area, but didn't expect to actually see one.\n\nDAY 26: Shit. Shitshitshit. Turns out, boars are attracted to shiny things, and they feel the need to destroy them. Or, at least, this one did. I'd made a lean-to from my mylar blanket, and this humongous bastard tore through it like a bull through a red cape. I plan to just keep going until I get to the next blue blaze, then I'll turn off and find the nearest shelter. Oh well. There goes my Purist card.\n\nDAY 26 (P.S.): I think that damn boar is still around. Keep hearing huffing and snorting just off the trail.\n\nDAY 27: The boar followed me all day. As I started to set up camp, he charged me. I leapt to my feet and stumbled backwards, but he kept coming. Somehow, he goaded me back until I fell off a cliff. No supplies, legs definitely broken, no way up or down. Surely another hiker will see my camp and find me soon.\n\nDAY 29: So thursty. hungry. Were is evryone? This trail should be fullof hkers, but noone come. Tired.",
"#The Cold\n\nThere's a time between night and dawn here in the Cold where light hangs heavy in the air like a dense fog, clinging to the underbelly of the clouds. Angel fingers, reaching down from the surface of a charcoal river that flows so far above and yet too close; and I the dregs of that river, tossed along on a current unseen and unknowable beneath, save the grasp of it I feel ever present upon me. \n\nThrough this dim lit dawn I walked, my feet churning through bone white snow who's very purity had become painful for my eyes to look upon. There was never a change upon its surface, never a spark of color or variation of form. I walked across a sheet of paper which no scribe had cared to write upon, the pale surface of a distant moon no eye had yet seen. Always was the White beneath me, as was the Dark above. To both I owned an intimacy better unknown. It was an intimacy void of depth, for as I saw them, so they were. And with their continuity, they strangled time, until with a whimper quieter than a breath, the memory of it faded, and naught was left to me but the White and the Dark. \n\nBetween the White and the Dark stood Terminus. Yellow as the unseen sun, it seemed to tower above me like Babel of old, and like that ancient heresy, felt like brash sin to raise it up before the White and Dark. A challenge, a mockery, a vanity, it pointed to the sky in defiance, and spread across the earth without shame. It hollowness could only be found as I crawled into its depths like a wintering rodent. A single gas lantern lit its interior, giving off a heat that was lost to the Cold. A sleeping roll lay off to the side, disheveled and worn, little more than a rag against the blade of the Cold. And opposite that sat a small crate of supplies, once full, now merely the crumbs of a meal all but consumed by the Cold. \n\nI sat within this braggarts smirk, the Angel Fingers dancing against the hide of Terminus. They gifted me with the soft glow of yellow that gave me no little feeling of vagueness, and served to remind me that much had been lost to the Cold, and there was not much more to lose.\n\nOutside, the Angel Fingers pulled back from the edge of the charcoal river. The Grey Sun rose in the west, and from the east came Silence to greet my heart with a chilling embrace. And I saw yet again that I had lived this day yesterday, that it had never ended, and that tomorrow had not come for many days. The Cold had killed time, and what man is there that can out live time?\n\nI stripped of my coat, of my hood, of my gloves, and felt the Cold as I had never felt before. I had not lived this day, and tomorrow would not come. \n\nI strode out into the White and Dark, Silence wrapped around me like the forgotten warmth of a fire, hands clasped with the Grey Sun. And across that sheet I walked, a forgotten dream on an authors page, a lost note among many sheets of music. ",
"The flames engulfed my vision. The sound of combustion and splintering wood spiked and became deafening. The heat was overwhelming and painful, causing me to scream helplessly and cry out, convulsing wildly, as I was thrown into what was formerly a wall, broken ends tearing and puncturing my skin. I blistered from the burns, my skin paining me so that every twinge of a muscle became excruciating. In that moment, all I knew was incapacitating pain. I did not think about fear. I did not process what had happened. I didn't think of the fates of those around me. I did not think of my wife. I did not think of my daughter. I forgot everything I knew except pain. They say your life flashes before your eyes when you die. If burning alive is anything like death, I disagree. I would have ceased to exist without reflection. I would have died thinking of my annoyance with a co-worker, or how I wish that I had aspirin to ease my migraine. Then, my body would erase all other thoughts and become inhabited by the embodiment of pure fear, as it shook and degraded and melted, before ceasing function. I would have died before my body did, replaced by a screaming, spastic imposter. 36 years of existence would have culminated in a final thought of \"I fucking hate work\". The fresh faced child, wailing as it took in its first glimpse of light, the child so adored by his parents that they would have sold the world for him, the loved husband and father, the friendly neighbor, those lives would have achieved nothing more than fading memories and a sequence of amino acids. I was splayed across the floor a few feet from the jagged hole in the floor displaying the massacre below, screaming, melting, rotting in a corner, awaiting the inevitable. Between my own screams and the desperate cries from third parties, a creaking of wood slowly increased volume, followed by a booming crack. The floor cracked beneath me on one side, slanting on one side, and I tumbled lower and lower as the flames extinguished. I flew into the side of a room and large objects quickly tumbled into me. The screams stopped. The brightness stopped. The world around me slowly gained clarity. I was in my office, or the remains of it. The second floor had collapsed, resulting in a downwards slope that ended where I sat, nearly making contact with the wall of the first floor. The wood was split in most sections, accompanied by bloody streaks and discolored skin marks. A mangled corpse hung lifelessly from a beam intersecting the wall. Around me was chaos. Corpses, cubicles, and electronic objects piled together to my left and right. Moans and cries softly invaded my ears, accompanied by a symphony of hissing pipes and crackling flames. Beneath me, a weak hand, which belonged to a man wedged between the two floors, clawed at me to attempt freedom as he cried ceaselessly, interrupted only by his sharp breaths.\nI looked at the holocaust around me, and overwhelmed by the gruesome array of death, I shouted nonsense and vomited, coating the man underneath me, who paid no attention as he was preoccupied with other matters. I sat silently, shaking from fear, until after what seemed like an eternity a voice boomed from the other side of the slope. \"Anyone out there? Hello? Respond if you can hear me, we are getting you out of there. There was a gas leak which caused an explosion in the building, we need to get as many people out as we can, now. This building is going to fall, I repeat is anyone out there?\" I tried to speak, but could only produce hoarse whimpering. My response consisted of loud, pained coughs. \"Try and climb the floor and get out through any breaks to the other side, we have the door uncovered, you need to get out.\" said the man with a slightly more urgent tone than he had donned in the previous statement. I replied hoarsely, \"I will try.\" I grabbed the side of an overturned filing cabinet and began to pull myself up, but fell as soon as I tried to support myself. Looking down, I realized my legs had been mangled, with my calves at unnatural angles from my thighs. Bone was exposed through holes in my pants, and my skin was charred. I looked up at a jutting piece of wood next to me and tried to drag myself to safely. I clawed at the floorboards, ascending the slope to a point where the chasm in the floor had been earlier, and looked through at the man that had been speaking. His hair was only existent in brief patches. His eyebrows were gone, and his face was raw and bloody, however, he was in a better looking state than most of the bodies at the bottom of the slant. \"Sir\", he said, \"I need you to drop yourself. It is going to hurt, but we need you out of here as fast as we can\" I yelled in pain as I dragged myself upward, falling through the chasm and roughly slamming into the floor, knocking the wind out of myself. ((I don't feel like finishing this at this second, call this the first volume of something. To be continued, I suppose))",
"Let me tell you about the day I started to believe in Ghosts.\n\nThere I say. We'd all heard the stories before, but we're they really stories? Ghosts who would sweep people up at night and leave nothing but burning embers by the morning.\n\nWe all just sat, paralyzed with fear. Could we be next? None of us had seen any of these ghosts before so how could we even know we were to be next?\n\nSome men came around earlier asking my father some questions about me. He didn't seem too keen about telling them about where I was but I could feel the tension as I sat under the rotted floor.\n\nAnd so I sat. I know ghosts aren't real so why is everyone so edgy, the amount of commotion outsider is deafening. Whatever I'm done sitting. I'm 14 and I'm a man now, just like my father would tell me. I can just sneak out and deal with this like the man I am.\n\nI could here my Mother crying. She never cried. I was going to deal with this and show everyone what it meant to be a man in the Jackson family. Just had to move this last board and -\n\n\"There he is! There's that nigger that killed my Janet!\"\n\nI wondered, if only for a split second, who Janet was as I looked towards the voice. And that's when I believed in Ghosts.",
"\"Run!\", the cry broke the dewey stillness of their resting area. *\"They found us!\"*, Berta's mind screamed. *\"Where do we go?\"* \n\nRevving engines, coming closer and closer. There was no time. No time! *\"GO!\"*\n\nThey scattered, with no direction or leadership, chaff to the wind. Everyone for themselves, sprinting for their lives. \n\n*DOGS!* Their bloodthirsty howls, eager to chase, set fire to her legs. Oh how she ran. She ran for distance, she ran for cover. *\"It can't end like this!'* \n\nShe caught her breathe on a small hillock and chanced a look. Men in uniform, combing through the bush. Dogs, running back and forth, flushing her friends from their hiding place. Screams of fear mixed with the excited shouts of the hunters and the hungry yelping of the dogs. Tears streamed as she turned and crested the hill. \n\n*PAIN!* She saw red as a rope lashed her face, then her back, throwing her to the ground, a dog snarling in her face. She heard a chuckle from the hunter as she struggled, and knew it was all over. Then she was forced to her feet and herded to a waiting trailer along with her friends. \n\n*\"How did they find us?\"* \n\n***************\n\nThey were far from the road, so the men used the most utilitarian approach - nothing wasted, not even a bullet, unless absolutely necessary. Their prey was crowded into common farm transports - steel livestock trailers requisitioned from several ranches nearby. \n\nFear, blood, feces; the stench was unbearable. Berta's trailer was so full, there was no room to sit, much less get comfortable. She prayed that the ride would be short, that it would somehow turn out all right for her and her friends. *\"Why us? Why?\"* \n\nThey endured the suffocating ride for hours without a break or any creature comforts. The men up front smoked, joked, and laughed throughout, taking no notice and no pity on their cargo. When they reached the destination, it was growing dark. In the light of the approaching city, they could see the walls of the compound looming nearer and nearer. The passenger turned, cigarette lounging in his lips, \"Y'all be quiet now! The neighbours don't like it when you disturb them.\" He cackled and turned back to the front. \n\nBerta was herded off the trailer with her friends into muddy enclosure surrounded by humming barbed wire. As the last of them were forced into their new prison, the passenger collected his blood money from another man. \n\n\"This load looked better! No more like the previous - I only want the highest quality! Ok Johnson?\" The passenger muttered something under his breath, then nodded in agreement to the other. \"We found them hiding out in the sticks. It was fun hunting this group down. Almost like the good old days!\" \n\n\"Well, Johnson, a pleasure doing business with you. Bring me more like her\" He pointed at Berta, whose eyes widened. \"Cattle like that will feed a family and cover their backs!\"",
"Harry was curled up in bed when his cell phone rang, tucked in under a sea of white sheets and red flannel blankets. He flung a hand listlessly out from under the sheets, cursing when the hard surface of his nightstand cracked against his knuckles. His sluggish fingers curled around the cracked screen of his phone; he accepted the call and pressed the phone against his ear, retreating back into the safety of his blankets once more. \"Hi, mom,\" he said. He heard his mother take a deep breath the line.\n\n\n\"Harry, love,\" she started, her voice trailing off at the end, uncertain. \"I need to talk to you about-\"\n\n\n\"Mom, I'm not doing anything wrong,\" Harry said, rolling his eyes. \"I'm not partying, I'm not doing drugs, and I've been eating all my vegetables.\" \n\n\n\"That's not what I'm concerned about, Harry,\" his mother said. Her voice was even more tremulous now, enough even to worry Harry, who was still half-asleep.\n\n\n\"What's it about, then?\" he asked. \n\n\nHis mother sighed. \"Student loans.\"\n",
"I heard a noise downstairs and a knock of a hard object against the living room table. Chills ran through my body as adrenaline surged through my blood. Quickly, I edged under my bed and grabbed my 9mm pistol. I could remember on the news about a series of break-ins recently and shootings had increased 25% in the last year alone in our city.\n\nEverything was quiet. The intruder knew they were heard and halted their movements. I knew my house perfectly. Each board that squeaked, where each piece of furniture was placed; the blindness from getting old helped in some strange ways, this being one. \n\nI made my way to the living room, which only had one entrance, doubling as the exit. The table was at the far end behind the couch and in front of the entertainment system. I flicked on the lights.\n\nI see a crouched man spring up and pull a hand from under his jacket. \n\nI shoot.\n\nA XboxOne controller flies out of his hand and bounces off the wall. The boy falls back. Blood is pouring out of the wound in his chest and pooling on the carpet. His eyes are looking straight in shear terror, trying to comprehend the haste of his last dying minutes. \n\nI ran over and held his hand. I tried to tell him it was okay. I apologized again and again before reaching for the phone to call and ambulance. The boy couldn't speak and I watched as his breath began to convulse. The look of fright never left his eyes, even after his spirit left him. \n\nIt doesn't matter how many times I tell this, I still see him every night. My imagination won't stop placing him in front of me. A stone image of a kid that chose the absolute worst time to break into a man's home, with a hole in his chest in blood-stained clothes. ",
"\"Dear fucking God! Is that thing alive?..\" Dr. Henry tiptoes closer, adjusting his glasses and squinting to try and see in the lowlight. \"Mario, hand me that flashilight and pole.\" \n\n\"No senor, I no, I no..\" Mario frowns, struggling to find the words in his broken english.\n\n\"For fuckssake Mario! What the hell are we paying you for!,\" yells Dr. Evans before he snatches the flashlight, \"Give it to me.\" Dr. Evans takes the only working light source and Mario's \"feeler\" pole, and marches onwards through centuries worth of dust and cobwebs. Each step makes a \"crunch\" under his tread. His flashlight dips down to locate the source of the noise and all around is a sea of white objects, like shattered china plates, too broken up to be distuingishable in the little bit of whats revealed.\n\nAbigail scoots closer to Mario and whispers into his ear, \"Mario, are you sure our team came through here? It doesn't look like anyone has been through this place in centuries.\" Her voice is tinged with nervousness that, despite her demeanor, clearly shows through. In fact, every member of the small expedition seems to be on edge, but none as much as Mario. \n\n\"Si senorita, I lead them to des cave entrance myself,\" his eyes dart around frantically and he is drenched in sweat, \"We should go everybody. I no like des place. Des place es evil.\" Mario's L in the word evil drags out for a full second, putting unwanted emphasis on it. \n\n\"For goodness-sake Mario, please shut up! No one wants to hear about your pagan superstitions! This cave is the find of the century! All 8 of our other team members from the original expedition are probably hanging out in here as we speak, charting artifacts and making records!\" Dr. Henry's voice started out outlined by annoyance, but it gradually turns to pure excitement. \"I mean just think of it! A pyramind deep underground, only accessible through cave systems right here in the Jungles of South America! Look at these markings,\" He flashes the light onto paintings on the wall that depict large spiders all surrounding a shirtless bound man, \"I've never seen anything like this at all! These are clearly not done by the Aztecs or Mayans, or anyone else! These date back further than anything we've ever found here!, and they seem to be worshipping spiders! If this had been discovered previously it would surely be known!\"\n\n\"Oh my God!\" Dr. Evans voice rings out shrilly, cutting off Dr. Henry, \"that thing IS still alive!\" Dr. Evans mouth drops in an expression that is of pure horror. \n\nDr. Henry whirls the light around to the massive mound in the center of the cave, the beam catches on the fist sized pitch black eyeballs and reflects it. The creatures broken hairy legs scuttle as it tries to move away from Dr. Evans prodding it with the pole. It screeches in vain when it can't budge itself. \n\n\"My God! I know spiders are technically immortal, but how could it have gotten this large?!\" Dr. Henry is basically shouting, \"It's just not possible! It would take thousands of years.. Look! it's legs have broken from trying to support its own weight.. This thing has to be at least 30 feet from leg tip to leg tip.. I bet it weighs a ton,\" Dr. Henry's voice is slowly decreasing in pitch and volume, as though he is coming to a conclusion that just can't be said out loud. \"It couldn't have survived unless...\" Dr. Henry's last words were almost a whisper. \n\nThere's a deep rumble, as if a wall is being moved, far off near the entrance of the cave, while, simultaneously, fire springs forth all around the small group into hidden alcoves that hold fire braziers. The once dark cave is now illuminated, revealing that the white debris all across the floors are in fact bones. Animals and humans. \n\nRobed figures appear across an upper balcony that was previously hidden by the dark, they start chanting in an language that sounds like it was lost to the ages. The group of four all huddle together as if they will have safety in numbers. Movement catches their eye from directly above, they all look up to see thousands of black orbs reflecting the fire light. There are roughly human-sized, humanoid shaped, bundles of cobwebs hanging from the ceiling. 8 of them. \n\n\"Unless someone has been feeding it,\" says Dr. Evans, in a whisper just as low Dr. Henry's from earlier. Abigail screams an ear piercing wail just as the \"ceiling\" drops.",
"Marcus stared at his laptop. He first thought that he could write about killer robots. He then decided that may be considered cheating. That was almost a loop hole. He tapped his nails against his desk and thought \"Maybe the scariest things are real problems\" He thought about people in soul crushing debt, the loss of a child, or maybe people stuck in the snow freezing to death. \n\nHe decided that would be it. He would write about real horror. He continued to write an epic about a troop of French infantry in the battle of Verdun in World War 1. They were stuck in a crater created by a mortar round. If they left they would be mowed down by gunfire. They were dying of thirst and there was water nearby. It was tainted by poison gas, and one of them drank it then died. They ate rats, because there were plentiful. Swarms of them had come to feast on the bodies of the fallen. They survived a month in the crater before they died. The sky turned black from smoke and death. The sounds of war were deafening.\n\n\nMarcus heard a beep and his screen turned black. \"What?\" Marcus said out loud. When it finished booting his story was gone. He worked for hours on it. He thought it was a masterpiece. It was gone.",
"Do not repeat my experiments. Do not follow in my footsteps.\n\nBy God, I wish I lived centuries earlier - that the only records that existed of my research were manuscripts that I could burn, that if I worked hard enough and quick enough, I could erase from existence every word I've written, and let this secret I've uncovered *remain* secret.\n\nAlas. What I've made my life's work, I also struggled to share - I worked hard to publish it in as many journals as I could, to share what I saw as breakthroughs with as many people as possible. And now, I realized that I've only been spreading a seed, a diaspora of forbidden knowledge.\n\nIt is better to remain ignorant. It is better to not know what I am talking about. Be confused, and be happy about it. There is no refuge in knowledge. There is only certainty, inevitability, dread. I cannot bear to live knowing what I do now.\n\nBut I will, for moments longer, enough time to write this, to plant one more seed. To those who have pursued my research to their ends, who have not listened to my warnings, whose curiosity consumed them as it did me... I shall tell you what you're now seeing. And how to survive as long as I have, against all odds.\n\nWhat you are seeing are *not delusions.* This is difficult to believe, I know, as my work involves drastic alterations of a brain's normal operations. Under many circumstances, it'd be very understandable to think that these sights are hallucinations, and that you can ignore them. Unfortunately, you cannot feign ignorance. Your first look at one of these predators - even a glimpse - will invariably terrify you. And they, to use the common phrase, *smell fear.* It is how they have lived this long, and how they have made their place as the apex predator of the world. Once you have seen one, *they cannot let you live.*\n\nYou must run. They are not fast - they are just everywhere. Escape the ones that know you have seen them, and then pretend to see no others. You will survive, if you can do that. \n\nIf you are in denial, remember this - I research neurological blindness. I began my research looking into concept such as hemispatial neglect, where people simply cannot *process or perceive* anything to the 'left'. If the left side of their house is burning down, they will not realize it. If asked to fill in numbers on a clock, they will squeeze every number - 1 to 12 - on the right side. They will apply make-up only to the right side of their face. And so on.\n\nImportantly, these people's very reality, the logic they rely on to live, alters to fit this mistake of their mind. I attempted to cure hemispatial neglect by simply using mirrors - by placing a mirror on the right side of the patient, I could have them interact with their 'left' by relying on their 'right'. But my experiment backfired... When I held something to their left, and told them to reach towards it by using the mirror, they would do one of two things: try to grab the object *inside* the mirror, or strain to reach *over* the mirror to grab the object.\n\nI asked these patients if they understood what a mirror was. And they did! But to them, this mirror reflects opposites - up becomes down, and right becomes... but there *is no left.* If this mirror cannot reflect something, then it *cannot be a mirror.*\n\nWhen I perceived this phenomena, I became obsessed with other forms of reality-altering perception. Some people are paralyzed, but their brain does not know it - they will provide excuses for why they will not walk, or why they do not raise their arm from the table. Some people experience blindsight, where they cannot *consciously* see, but can still unconsciously see it - being able to navigate a room with objects strewn all over the floor, for example, but never realizing they are doing it.\n\nRemember that, then realize this too - *everyone* is blind like this. In my final study, I noticed an unusual lesion in the brain of most every animal I looked into - presumably stemming from some defect of evolution, eons down the line. I hypothesized this lesion produced a sort of neurological blindness along these lines, preventing us from perceiving something that could be all around us... and, foolishly, I devised a means of altering the brain's normal processes with strong magnetic fields (much like the work done in reversing moral compasses), to circumvent this lesion.\n\nAnd what I opened my eyes to was the horror that you now see. The chitinous creatures that swarm over every surface, that are the size of a man's torso, whose maws open and close silently, whose carapaces shine with unimaginable hues, a color outside of normal perception... that is *reality.* That is *truth.* That is what you have been kept from seeing, all of your life, by what I thought was a flaw of your brain.\n\nI wish I could leave everyone with the belief that they were delusions - but you will die if you think they cannot hurt you. Because they can hurt you, and if you react to them - if you do not prevent yourself from recoiling in horror, or shivering in terror, at the very sight of them - then they *will* hurt you.\n\nMy injuries may be grave, but I do not fear death at this point... I accept it. I cannot live in a world where I must pretend I cannot see these creatures. I cannot will myself to survive if this is the sight I will face every day of my life. Even though I've turned off the magnet, restored myself to blessed blindness... I will never forget they are *there*. The hungering unknown will always be waiting for me, at the edges of the world, waiting until I am alone and forgotten, ripe to become another missing person, a number of a statistic...\n\nI say goodbye to this cursed world. And I hope that those I leave behind will heed my warning, and stay blind."
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[WP] You are the last alive of Elon Musk's 'One Million to Mars' project, this is your last diary entry as you describe what killed off the other settlers. | 55 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"They're all gone now. All of them. I'm the only one left.\n\nI still remember what it was like yesterday. 8th grade, a day like many others, filled with stuck-up bitches and assholes. That dick Jim Wagner slugged me in the shoulder in the hallway for no damned reason other than he thinks I'm a nerd. The teachers didn't care. Everyone is on edge around here, but that comes from being the first off-world colony. They all seem to take it out on me.\n\nThey should have listened. They should have stopped. They should have cared. But they didn't. They didn't and now they're all gone. The atmosphere was blown out of the colony, devoured by Mars, and I survived due to being outside in an environmental suit. I was able to get back in, fix the problem, and restore the atmosphere before my suit ran out of oxygen. It's their own fault, really. They should have cared more about the security of the atmosphere control systems.\n\nIt was way too easy to sabotage it and steal the environmental suit. No more assholes in the hall. No more adults who don't care. They didn't care about me. Nobody did. Now they've all paid the ultimate price and I get this whole colony to myself. I can do whatever I want and no one is here to stop me.\n\nNo one is here.",
"The good news, my thesis advisor explained through the quantum telecom, was that this proved beyond a doubt that life had originated on Mars. Which was nice. The Seed Theory had been attacked by members of the Astrobiological Society since the 50's as some vapid fantasy. The *bad* news was that the Martian flu killed us all.\n\nWell, not me.\n\nYet.\n\nI wonder how many researchers have said \"this thesis is killing me\" with absolute sincerity. Maybe whoever was first to write about Ebola? The Bubonic Plague? Serial murderers targeting exclusively geeky individuals who drink way too much coffee?\n\nThe last ship leaving Mars carried with it my sample. A tiny vial of saliva. Not *my* sample. The sample belonging to the guy who sneezed in my face and said \"whoops\".\n\nAt the time we didn't know what was going on. We thought \"oh hey there's a flu going on, that's interesting\". I thought it would be even more interesting to check whether this was, in fact, a Terrean flu. Oh they laughed. They laughed so hard. Much mirth was had. But not anymore. Because they're all dead. Jokes on you, Brad, who after reading through my notes said \"I hope you know how to make a decent latte\". I hope *you* know how to make a decent ~~funeral~~ ~~corpse~~ ~~de~~\n\nTurns out not every strain of Martian virus can survive burning through the Terrean atmosphere. This one couldn't. It dwelt on this planet until the day I decided to get real creative with my project. Until the day I decided to test my luck.\n\nWhen the sample arrived on Terra, people had already started dropping like Exxon-Mobile shares in the 30's. So my thesis advisor was careful. Now, he did end the talk by quizzing me about the symptoms. And he did grow paler for every sentence I produced.\n\nOh God I hope I didn't just kill what remained of human civilization. For my thesis project.\n\nAlright I'm still more worried about my project than my inevitable demise. How's that possible? I mean, before writing this I made some small adjustments to my introduction. Then I regretted them. And cried in the cafeteria, wondering how I ended up as this massive failure.\n\nWell, I guess maybe they will ... Oh God I hope they don't name the virus after me. No, of course they won't. This is Terra we're talking about. They're all Martian this and Martian that. And 'The Martian Flu' has a nice ring to it.\n\nBut it would be nice to get some recognition. I mean, I've worked hard on this. Maybe it's the fact that my fever's gotten so bad that I am wasting the little time I've got left to write my diary for today, but I am pretty much the most important man on this planet right now. And also the most useless.\n\nWell, as we say on Mars (I don't know why that is though): so long, and thanks for all the fish!",
"Diary Log, Golf Station: Sol 548. 19:33 ZULU [GMT]\n\nEntry:\n\nWell I guess that's that. The other stations have gone to black and aren't receiving anything anyone's putting out, not even Houston. Which means they likely aren't powered anymore either. If the other logs from the other stations aren't recovered for whatever reason, Echo station to the southwest lasted the longest with the most, if that matters.\n\nLab data is still trickling in and I'm going to try and conserve any power I can possibly divert into keeping those systems functional. The goal will be to transmit any findings back to Houston or whoever the hell is running this nightmare factory. The initial stuff coming out is fairly grim.\n\nThe incubation period for the bacteria seems to be about three days, but it's also altered as it spread through the stations. I think the Kilo station reported in symptomatic patients within five or six hours, which could imply that the thing is *learning* how to spread and grow all the quicker. But, I don't know. Kilo went dark first, so perhaps the bacteria there was a victim of its own success, killing everyone too quickly to spread to the other stations. Anyways, my own bacterial count is staying pretty steady at present. I feel like I've got malaria again, for whatever that's worth and I suppose there's a chance that's what's going on in addition to the Red Plague. The sores aren't as bad as I'd seen them in Bravo, but they're not pretty either.\n\nMost of the infirmaries are loaded up with seal tight body bags. There was a plan to try and store the bodies outside but the manpower to move them all all just kinda joined the pile. The quarantines kicked in too late and there's a few scattered bodies around the living quarters or tucked away at working and supporting sectors. I pretty strongly advise against coming out this way or even onto this red ball again, but if anyone is out there and listening, that's where most of the bodies are.\n\nOh, and if any of the other files get corrupted in the interim before any sort of second wave arrives; I know this file is getting transmitted with the lab findings using whatever energy I can salvage out of the depths of this place; do not bother looking for Delta Station. It was the epicenter of the whole damn outbreak and I'm pretty damn sure some hero went and triggered a catastrophic meltdown and annihilated the whole friggin' place. Only Alpha was within eyesight of the place and last reports were of heavy smoke and dust clouds rising from the location.\n\nAnyways, I'm going to power down this station and convert this message over so it can be embedded into the transmission back home. My name is Tedd...uh...Theodore Fraisdorf. Chief microbiologist and head of the science division from Sierra Station. I'm not really sure how to say goodbye to two whole planets at the same time so here goes.\n\nDon't come to Mars, not til you sort out how to deal with the Red Death.\n\n[END TRANSMISSION]\n\n{1 Attached File}",
"17th March 2106\n\nThe Anthropocene is what I will call it, the human age. Well, more the documentation of the end of the human race. I figured being the last human left on Mars I may as well give this travesty of human error a name. It's really sad, on this day the human race is finally gone, after me President Musk's vision finally has failed. I hope one day in a thousand or even a million years someone or something will find this diary and learn from our mistakes. It really isn't that surprising though, the human race has (since the industrial revolution) ultimately had a self-destructive trajectory. We thought leaving the earth behind would stem our problems, our follies and vices. But as we always have been able to adapt, we adapted our problems to match. After a thousand years of expansion at an exponential rate, the scarce resources of Mars became bargaining chips in the political spectrum. War broke out, war always breaks out. But this time it was different, there were no young men venturing off to their lead graves, no shellshock, no PTSD...just bombs, nuclear war had broken out on Mars just as it had on Earth. Thankfully, being one of the few researchers of the polar wastes I was one of the estimated 0.4% of the population that survived the M.A.D. Ten years ago today I began this diary, ten years ago I put on this radiation suit and haven't taken it off since. Ten years ago I began this diary in the hopes that I would find some others and begin again, I've seen one person in these ten years and she died of radiation sickness within hours. I don't know if I believe in fate or god or any deity of any kind, I don't know if I believe in anything anymore. \n\nThis will be my final entry, there is no hope for humanity left, the only vague reminiscence of us left is that curiosity rover still trekking around, picking up dirt and looking at rocks. Totally oblivious to the destruction around it. I wish I could live out that nonchalant existence, being happy at the sight of dust. I am however, cursed to live out my life with the internal torment of the human mind. I do however have free choice, to do as I please and end what I choose. That is why this will be my final entry, I have one gun, one bullet and an eternity of peace, torment or nothingness to look forward to. Anything is better than this.\n\nVeni, Vidi, Vici. What a terrible mistake.\n\n"
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[WP] You are a hopeless romantic. Which sucks for you, because you fall in love very easily. | 2 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"*She'll adore this claret rose, oh I simply know she will, Jessica, my darling rose...*\n\nI've always loved Jessica, I know I have. Always been waiting for that one perfect girl to come along. Time and again I thought, no I *did*, love others: Alice, Rebecca, Melissa, sweet Persephone, Penelope, Arissa, Cassie, beautiful Emma, Olivia, Sophia, Mia, Isabella, Charlotte, Harper, Ava, Amelia (oh Amelia!), Abigail, Emily, Madison, Evelyn, her sister Evie, their mother Avery, Hannah, Zoe, Brooklyn, Victoria, Grace and Layla... each girl unique and beautiful in their own way. Of course there were others, tens, hundreds more who I loved with all my heart... but none like Jessica.\n\nI remember meeting her for the first time. She was standing in the queue for the toilet at one of these amazingly chic bars where we all share the same bathroom. Anyway... the bar, the lighting, the smells and the laughter. People just loving life and enjoying it whilst they can, that's exactly what I'm all about. I can't help who I am, can I?\n\nI saw her first. She had a flowing red silk dress on, contrasted so perfectly by her blonde hair. Then she looked at me. It felt like I'd been punched, all the wind rushed out of my mouth. 'Endless Love' by Diana Ross and Lionel Richie was playing over the jukebox as our eyes met. Like two galaxies colliding, the moment felt as if it lasted eons, I fell farther and father down into the alluring abyss of her deep blue eyes, as if all the world around me went dark but for those two starry oceans. \n\nThe next thing I remember was lying on the floor of the bar, Jessica kneeling over me, a look of concern mixed with divine intrigue on her face. Her perfect brow so slightly furrowed with worry, for me? Her lips opened and closed, dancing in the flickering electric candlelight making shapes, possessing my mind... *I* had to dance too.\n\nShe spoke again, \"Are you OK?\" That voice! *Oh* that voice. Like an angel calling me, back to reality. Soft, and calming, completely healing the pain caused by the angry looking bump already growing on my head. I'd never heard anything like it, not once had someone generated this much... *passion* in me, simply by saying three words - I knew it then, I was in love. I wrinkled my face, holding back the tears, my emotions growing too powerful for me.\n\"Oh no! Please don't cry!\" She pleaded with me, anguished lines crossing her face. It was saddening yet mystifying to watch... \"It's just a bump, see...\" I finally found my thoughts, regained control.\n\"No, no, it's just...\" I remember now, my mind toiling. Then... as if I needed any cheap line here, this was straight from my heart. \"You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen.\" She blushed. Her cheeks going scarlet, rose coloured... my rose.\n\nSo I think again now, as I get off the bus, the next day, to see the woman I know I'm going to marry. The skies are bluer than the deepest ocean, the birds are chirping their glee at this young love they're witnessing. I am in love! My rose. My Jessica. I have the poem in my head, ready. I'd stayed up most of the night looking at houses and engagement rings. We'd have three children, James, Hector and Melba. Two dogs, Crumble and Patch, and a cat, Scratches. We'd fall deeply and madly in love for the rest of our days, and even pass away side by side in our 90's, holding each other's hand across the bed.\n\n\"Excuse me!\" I realised I'd stopped walking and was staring up into the sky.\n\"Huh?\" Right in front of me was a woman, her dark curly hair fallen onto her shoulders, her green eyes frowning at me. Those eyes! Like an alpine valley in the summer, lush and verdant, promising all the joys of life...\n\"Hello!\" She smiled, \"Sorry, I'm just trying to get passed you.\" Only then did I notice that she had a gang of puppies with her, their tails wagging, eyes bulging in excitement at being on their first walk. Blushing at my incompetence, I bent down to stroke a chocolate lab, he licked my hand, the mischievousness of a puppies little lick is always a delight!\n\"I stood up again, sorry...\" Oh my God. \"Sorry, but...\", this girl... she was gorgeous. \"You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen.\"\nHer mouth fell open in surprise and she blushed, then smiled.\n\nI dropped the rose."
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1,
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"1475672483",
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[WP] Every human on their 18th birthday get a card that predicts their future. It always come with a date and is 100% accurate. Your card says "1 week. Death" | 4 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"Rory flipped the card over and over again, each time hoping, wishing, begging for the words to change. With a frustrated sigh he flung the card across the room. Tears welled up in his eyes as he ran his shaking fingers through his knotted hair.\n\n\"Are... are you sure?\" He asked, voice cracking. \"Can't there be some sort of mistake?\"\n\n\"I'm afraid not. You know as well as I do that these cards are always right. I wish I could tell you otherwise.\" Replied the man sitting across from Rory. Short as it was, his black hair looked as tangled as the young man's. Dark circles sagged under his green eyes, and the wrinkles in his suit indicated he hadn't changed out of it anytime recently.\n\nRory collapsed his head onto the table, clasping it with his hands. Tears rolled freely now despite his best efforts. Several awkward moments passed as the man in black waited. Finally Rory lifted his head, sniffling several times.\n\n\"What now?\"\n\nShifting uncomfortable in his seat the man responded quietly. \"We're dropping our support, Rory. I'm sorry, we have no choice.\" He looked away, a few tears coming to his own eyes.\n\nJaw dropping open, Rory stared at the man with widened eyes. \"N-No... You can't! You know I didn't do it! You know I'm innocent! You can't! Please, no! Please...\" The young blonde collapsed his head again, this time sobbing uncontrollably.\n\n\"I'm sorry Rory. We thought we could over turn the conviction... but your card...\" The young lawyer stood from his seat, head hanging low. He motioned for the guard, who helped Rory to his feet. \"I'm sorry Rory. I've arranged for your family to visit you soon. Our office will continue to do everything we can for you until...\" He let the sentence drop as Rory turned away and slowly walked back towards the cell block, ignoring the rest of the man's words.\n\nWith a saddened sigh the lawyer turned, walking away from death row."
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1,
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"1475685197",
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[deleted] | [WP] "PLEASE DISREGARD THIS SIGN" | 18 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"I looked twice as I passed the sign. I did not read it wrong. I stepped back and stood in front of the sign, studying it. I had lot's of time to spare. Though a bypasser would think of me armed for war, I was an uncontracted adventurer. I had been offered to look into some Orc movements in the hills, but I decided against it. My goal was to visit an old friend of mine in the town up ahead. The sooner I got there, the sooner I could spend the night with sweet Renya, but for some reason, this stupid sign had pissed me off.\n\nWhy is it even here? The roads between these two villages are deep within human territory, and if not giving directions it really has no reason to be here. Even moreso, the message it was giving was absolutely ridiculous. *PLEASE DISREGARD THIS SIGN* Why? I would not have regarded the damn sign to begin with if it wasn't here, and especially if it didn't have something so stupid imprinted on it. And the writing style. Why is it all in capital form? It's almost as if the person who placed the sign was trying to get attention. My head hurt. What kind of false choice was this? It was asking to not be regarded, but everything about its styling, position and language screamed 'Hey you! Notice me!'.\n\nI realized that I had been spending a good amount of time staring at this sign and not spending that time going to sweet Renya. With a sigh I walked past it. It took about tenminutes of walking for me to notice another sign, of similar make up ahead.\n\n\"Oh fuck no,\" I cursed aloud and jogged to the sign. \n\n*THANKS.* it said. In a bit of rage I kicked the sign and sprinted back to the first. No way were these signs just here. Someone is hiding something or fucking with me, and I'm gonna find out which it is. \n\nI made it back to the sign after a few minutes of sprinting. I was breathing at a decent rate. Thankfully, my training and lifestyle meant I was in quite good shape. I saw the sign and stepped around its plain backside.\n\n*WELCOME BACK.* the sign said. I yelled in frustration. *Someone* was definitely fucking with me. Though a part of me desired Renya, this was now my biggest concern.\n\n\"Where are you?\" I said aloud. Nothing answered. I guess it made sense. You wouldn't want to start something with me. Not only was the armour and sword I wielded magically enchanted, but I was also I high level caster in the mage's college. I was a force to be reckoned with, being taunted by wooden signs. I looked around. Even with magic aiding my sight I could see nothing past the trees flanking both sides of the path. \n\n'What am I doing?' I said to myself. All this time being wasted here when I could be with my sweetheart. In defeat, I sighed and walked past the sign. The prank, though cruel, would not be able to continue. Though the prankster was able to fool me with the first two signs and the switch, there was no way he would have been able to sneak by me. In fact... An idea came to me. \n\nI channeled my magic and blinked to the second sign. It was a ten minute walk or, for someone of my agility, a three minute run. There would be no way the prankster would get here before me. And when he does I'll be waiting. I smiled at my brilliance, looked at the [sign](http://imgur.com/a/MqqOe) and screamed in a rage. "
] | [
1,
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"1475686972",
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[WP] Whenever a person dies of natural causes, everyone around that death absorbs an attribute of the deceased. | 4 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"Manuel was by all accounts a good man. He was courteous to his neighbors, paid his bills on time and was a rather pleasant person to be around. It wasn't a surprise to any of his friends that he volunteered to give up his traits, it meant being flanked by strangers all the time, but Manuel was that kind of person. \n\nOver the years he was monitored closely; his excrement checked for irregularities, his vitals constantly cross referenced, his movements planned out precisely. It was a lot of trouble, but Manuel was the kind of person to just smile and take things in stride, no fuss on his part. \n\nEventually the expected time of Manuel's death came. He was surrounded by stranger and hooked up to a hospital bed, machines beeping and watching him every step of the way, but Manuel wasn't troubled. Manuel just smiled his little smile one last time, and breathed his last. \n\nA man by his side began to shake uncontrollably, quaking with laughter. A woman howled with anger and punched her wife, the wife didn't particularly notice, she didn't even seem to care. In minutes all the volunteers were in one form of distress or the other, and had to be removed from the premises. \n\nYou see Manuel wasn't as perfect as people thought he was, he was actually a rather volatile mixture. Manuel was however a sum of his parts, only functioning because he had both calm and expressive traits, with those traits scattered, one could never hope to be as Manuel was. ",
"She had always been jealous of Patricia. From her immaculate hair to her lovely smile, she had everything Janet ever wanted. She had tried simply being around her, as if the mere proximity would be enough to sate her desires. No, Janet had to have her, she had to **be** her. \n\nPatricia's blood was everywhere, every pore in Janet's body basking in it's glory, the body laying limp on the floor. Janet was beyond excited, this was the moment, her breathing shallow and irregular. Knife in hand and covered in blood, she waited for the transfer. She didn't care what she got, fingers crossed for nose, as anything would be an improvement on her current form. \n\nShe just stood there, soaked in blood, waiting for her skin to split open or bones to crack as they relocated. She recalled the sensation from last time, her eyes having expanded and contracted for at least an hour before getting the size right, and how much she enjoyed her new hazel color. She panted heavily in anticipation, welcoming the pain, until she realized the time had passed. \n\nShe hadn't changed and, unlike all the other times, was not yet satisfied. Now, because of her, this perfect nose would never breathe again. She wailed in anger for as long as her lungs permitted, dropping to her knees in the process. She punched the ground so hard she could feel bones breaking, vowing that her sacrifice would not be in vain. Filled with new determination she stood up, wiped away the blood around her mouth, and gripped the knife tight with her injured hand to feel the pain again. \n\nThe woman was walking on the pier alone, she would do just fine. Janet readied the knife, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. She had to make it right, and quickly. As she studied the woman as she always did, she started noticing different things than usual. She was beautiful, sure, but her eyes were darting all across the place erratically. The long coat was wrapped tightly around her lithe frame as she walked at a pace that was clearly uncomfortable. Janet held her breath. She was *afraid*.\n\nThe beautiful woman walking alone on the pier at night was actually afraid. Afraid of thugs, afraid of murderers, afraid of? Afraid of... \n\nAfraid of Janet. She could feel her hand trembling as the sight of this woman had brought back memories of terror. Memories where she was so afraid, so afraid of this woman with the knife, so afraid as the blood left her body and she knew nothing but darkness. So afraid...\n\nIf she listened closely, the woman on the pier would have heard the sound of a knife dropped against weathered concrete."
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1,
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2
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"1475689472",
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[WP] In the age of living on asteroid mining and living space stations in near-Jupiter orbit, visiting Earth is a social equivalent of a roadtrip to Vegas. Describe that experience | 2 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"By the time we hit lunar orbit we were high as motherfucking kites. I'd been working Europa for four years straight, Pavel for six. Tony, they said, was fucking born there. Figured we were due a little downtime, you read?\n\nLunar City is gray as all hell. God damn. I work in a fucking foundry and that place is Gray As Shit. We got jammed in Processing till Pavel slipped some dude a plastic and got us on the Quickfly List what for my money was well timely, since Tony was drinking special tax vodka and starting to eye the local bacon with what I might call a leary eye. Man does not like plod.\n\nEarthrise. Fuck me, man. I mean, that shit is real. You see that fucking blue marble out the window and you got to ask some questions about your place in the universe, right? Or I guess you could like bury your head in a pile of coke and zone out to Eurojazz. My fucking colleagues.\n\nI've got respect for the Earth community, right? My fucking grandad was born and died there. Do I believe it's where all of humanity originated? I don't know, man. Maybe there's a lot of fucking information out there, is all.\n\nSo we touchdown NYC 18-hundred, and it's just fucking t-shirts, far as the eye can see. Swear to god, we walk off the cruiser and some dude shoves a fucking t-shirt in my face. Naturally he gets a little tap, and that riles the locals what I might say is normally not a problem with us, but these cunts is well poor so its hardly worth the effort though Tony puts his back into it.\n\n************\n\nHey Draki, I'm not going to reach any sort of conclusion tonight, but I might come back to this. Fun prompt, cheers!"
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[removed] | [WP] Necromancer Mistakenly Attends Necrophilia Meeting | 1 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"Hi there, \n\nThis post has been removed as it violates the following rules: \n\n\nWhile it doesn't seem to be your intent, the mods reserve the right to remove anything we feel may become harmful to the community. This includes prompts likely to generate such responses. \n\n\n\nPlease refer to the [sidebar](/r/writingprompts/about/sidebar) before posting. If you have any questions or concerns, please feel free to send us a [modmail.](https://www.reddit.com/message/compose?to=%2Fr%2FWritingPrompts&subject=Removed%20post&message=https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/5620ka/wp_necromancer_mistakenly_attends_necrophilia/%0A%0A)\n\n\n---\n\n[Link to the removed post](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/5620ka/wp_necromancer_mistakenly_attends_necrophilia/)"
] | [
1,
1
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"1475704042",
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[WP] You and your SO are walking along a subway platform when a badly scarred person comes out of nowhere and pushes your loved one onto the tracks. The stranger looks at you before running away - the face is your own face, unmistakable, but older, and broken. Your SO is in the ICU now, still alive. | 115 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"*Beep. Beep.*\n\nI stared at her lifeless body.\n\n*Beep. Beep.*\n\nPerfectly still, she lay.\n\n*Beep. Beep.*\n\nI still couldn't believe what I'd seen.\n\n*Beep. Beep.*\n\n*Kerchunk.*\n\nI turned to the door\n\n*Creeeaak.*\n\n*Beep. Beep.*\n\n\"Mr. Carson, police here to see you.\"\n\n*Beep. Beep.*\n\n\"Okay, I'm coming.\"\n\n*Beep. Beep.*\n\nSlowly, I walked towards the door.\n\n*Beep. Beep.*\n\n*Creeeaak.*\n\n*Beep. Beep.*\n\n*Kerchunk.*\n\n***\n\nI sat there with them, in a MacDonalds just around the corner from University College Hospital. They'd said we could talk wherever, and I was hungry. In retrospect it was quite an odd choice, but I was hardly thinking straight. I talked through the \"incident,\" as they kept calling it. I'd told them the story from start to finish. About how we were on our way back from London Zoo, waiting on our train from Marylebone to Chorley Wood. About how a man jumped out from seemingly nowhere, and pushed her onto the tracks in front of the departing train. About how I didn't get a clear look at his face.\n\nBut, that last part was a lie. I did get a clear look at his face. My face.\n\n\"Thank you for your time, Mr. Carson. Here's your crime reference number. If you do remember any other details, give us a call using the number on that card there.\" The officer's voice was drab, but oddly comforting. I don't know how anything could comfort me after what I'd seen. But somehow, this woman's voice did. I took the card from her, tucked it inside my wallet, and headed back to the hospital.\n\nI sat in the waiting for room for what felt like an eternity. In reality it can't have been more than 10 minutes. I slurped the last of my chocolate milkshake, and threw the empty cup into the bin across the room.\n\n\n____________________________________________\n\nI'm stopping here. I know where I want to take this, but I have to be up early in the morning, so I've decided to just get the opening down and put it in the bank of ideas for later. Thanks for the great prompt - if I ever get around to finishing it then I'll be sure to let you know.\n\n",
"\"God DAMMIT!\" He yelled. Michael stood just outside the room his father occupied, bracing himself on the crutches he had to use because of his broken leg. \"Fuck me!\" Some bitch tries to kill me and now my dad's damn near dead of a heart attack!\"\n\nWe had been in the ER following the strange attack in the subway. He was mad because we had missed the last train by seconds. Of course it was my fault. It's always my fault. He was shouting at me. I was shouting back. I was trying to defend myself. It wasn't my fault that he wouldn't leave when I asked to go, or that he had to chat with the sales clerk for ten minutes after we'd paid. We were standing right next to the tracks, just where the doors had closed moments before we reached them. We might as well have been alone in the world, just the two of us, shouting in the subway. \n\nBut some woman came up from behind him. She watched us. I didn't notice at first, but when I did I lost my focus and missed what he said next. The absence of my attention escalated him and he took a step towards me to redirect my attention. That's when she made her move.\n\nShe was surprisingly quick, her speed neccitated by her lack of size. It was almost comical, in a surreal kind of way. This little woman, battered and worn, suddenly burst into a run and hurled herself at him. \n\nIt never would have worked but for the fact that he had just started to take a step. She'd caught him at the perfect moment, with one foot in the air, and when they collided they both fell onto the tracks. I saw her face just before she hit him. Then they fell. \n\nShe landed on top of him and sort of slid and rolled off. She got up, looked at him, made a face that said, \"Shit!\" and \"Fuck me! Dammit!\" and looked back at me. \n\n\"Run!\" she yelled. \"Just run!\" \n\nShe looked at him again, muttered something that might have been, \"Shit,\" and took off down the tracks. \n\n\"Run?!?\" He practically screamed at me. \"I can't run! My fucking leg's broken!\" \n\nAnd so it was. And we were in the emergency room when we got the call from his sister. His dad had had a heart attack and was in the ISU across town. We'd come as soon as we were able, but they weren't letting us in just now. \n\nI was shaken. I knew why she'd done it, but not how. No, I knew why I'd done it. His temper was always just out of sight, provoked by the stupidest, most innocuous things. He must have crossed the line somewhere, and I knew I would have taken what I thought would have been my best shot, but there would have been a backup plan. Maybe even two. She, no, I, was going to try again.\n\n\"Just sit, please?\" I begged. \"Give yourself a break. I mean, shit, just rest a minute. You just have to wait until they let us in.\"\n\nHe laughed ruefully at my accidental pun.\"No,\" He tools me more calmly, \"I'm still too wound up.\" He tried to pace, but on crutches he was anything but graceful and he collapsed into the chair, defeated. \n\n\"I'm going to find a vending machine and get something to drink. Do you want anything?\"\n\n\"Yeah, bring me a Mountain Dew. Regular. I need it.\"\n\nI picked up my purse and surreptitiously checked for my keys. I quietly waked out of the waiting area. My footsteps sounded the hall as my heart pounded my chest. Soon I heard another set of footsteps coming towards me. My footsteps. \n\nWe met in the hall. It was unnerving to be looking at myself. We couldn't make eye contact. Never could do it, but it was even harder to try to do it with ourselves. We looked at our mouths instead. I watched myself say, \"I knew you wouldn't go. Please,\" she begged this time. \"Please. Just leave. I've already taken care of everything.\" She held out her hand for my purse and offered me hers in exchange. \"Everything you need is in here. Maybe someday I'll be able to explain in more detail.\" \n\nShe was only just slightly older than me, but she looked terribly worn. She had a scar on her face that I didn't recognize. I touched myself there, feeling the smooth skin on my face instead of the scar I saw on hers. She nodded as the realization sink in. I slowly put my hand down to my side. Wordlessly I exchanged my purse for hers, and then I watched as she walked towards the ICU with my purse and a regular Mountain Dew in her hand.",
"I clung to Drew’s hand with all my might. \n\nTo think that a woman would come from out of nowhere and push him onto a set of train tracks was shocking. However, what irked me the most is that when I looked into her face, I saw an older version of myself looking back. In fact, it’s quite possible she was me –somehow. \n\n“Claire. . .” Drew whispered. \n\nI gripped his hand tighter. “Babe, it’s okay. You’re in the hospital.” \n\n“Where the hell. . . hospital?” Drew pulled at the drip in his arm. \n\n“Relax, no, you’re going to hurt yourself,” I said. \n\n“I don’t need to be here!” Drew snapped. \n\nHis eyes were dark and furious. They reminded me of the lady that had pushed him. That sad look she gave me before running away. I shook the feeling off. “The doctors are coming now. Can you hold on a few minutes?” \n\nDrew frowned at me and then settled back against the bed. He held a hand to his head and breathed in and out with his eyes closed. His forearm had a large graze on it, which was mostly covered with a bandage. Luckily, a group of strangers helped pull him off the tracks before the train came. I don’t know what I’d do if I’d lost him. I needed Drew more than anything. \n\n“The train. . .” he said, “don’t just sit there, Claire. I’m thirsty.” \n\nI recoiled from the order. When he was upset, he usually got like this or worse. But when things were good they were great, so I tried my best to be a good wife. I got up and filled a cup of water for him from the distiller in the corner of the room. “You should eat,” I said. \n\nDrew ignored me and drank back the cup in one gulp. He held it out expectantly and without a thank you.\n\nThe vision of the woman came back to me. She had paused before she turned and ran, it’s as if she wanted to tell me something. But instead she glanced at Drew then back at me, and then left. \n\nI took the cup and filled more water.\n\n“A full cup?” Drew said. \n\n“If you wanted less you could have told me, babe,” I said. \n\nHe gritted his teeth. “Nevermind. . .” \n\nI reached for the cup. Drew held his hand out in front of mine. “I said, nevermind.” \n\n“I want to pour some out, don’t be difficult.” \n\nDrew clasped a hand around my forearm. I stared at him in a moment of tense silence. My eyes scanned the rest of his face as well. He had a bruise under his eye and cuts on his chin. The woman who had pushed him had a bruise on her cheek as well, and her eye, it was puffy –but maybe covered in make-up. \n\nWhen she pushed him, her face hadn’t been one of malice, either. Which struck me as odd. Neither was it anger or even revenge, but fear. Dark eyes that were wide and hands unsteady. Her clothes came back to me as well. The long denim coat which covered her shirt and pants was not so different to the ones in my own closet. \n\n“Let me go,” I said to Drew. \n\nHe squinted at me and shoved my arm away. My heart thudded in my chest, so loud that it filled my ears and throbbed under my neck. \n\n“I need some time alone,” Drew said. \n\nI walked to the door and paused. “Me too.” \n",
"The drips break the quiet. She remains asleep, oddly peaceful after all that has happened. I think back at the face. A sense of unknown fear encircles me, and I wonder truly about what I have seen. \n\n\nThe government people are by the door. They wear suits and have ear pieces. I can tell they are important by the way they go about themselves, by the way they talk. If they could remove me from her room, they would. I bet they want her to die, for all her secrets to be washed away by death’s amnesia.\n\n\nSome, I’m sure, would rather she live. From what she told me, she hadn’t reached very far. Whatever project she was working on had now begun coming together. It was still in its infancy, and I think they needed her. I don’t how much they would get if she lives though. They don’t expect her to walk, to talk or think straight ever again. \n\n\nI would cry if I knew I wasn’t being watched. I would cry if not for all this confusion. I’m not one for mysticism but I’m not one for being blind either. I know what I saw. The face haunts me in every reflection. \n\n\n*You did it. You know you did it.*\n\n\nBut I ignore it. I ignore it the best I can.\n\n\nShe hasn’t changed and I’ve started going home. As I leave her room those men stare at me. Their eyes are calculating, weighing the cost of having me alive. I can feel their guns twitch, their bullets eager. I wonder what my wife was working on. I dread to know the answer.\n\n\nOn the subway, I see him. Not the reflection, but the real thing. It is only for a passing moment, but I see him tattered and old, tears running down a scarred and filthy face. His hair is grey and he is a disheveled man, desperate looking. As the train stops he looks at me from the platform. I think of meeting him but I cannot move. He mouths something to me and I can hear it in my head, my own voice.\n\n\n“Finish it,” he says.\n\n\nThen he is lost in the crowd and I never see him again.\n\n\nI cannot sleep after that. My house is a dark asylum, housing my tortured self. I look at her picture in the night, the light from the phone corroding my eyes. I keep thinking about what she was working on. I keep thinking whether I’m losing my mind.\n\n\nI ask questions. No one answers so I have to lie. I tell them I found some things they missed when they were cleaning the house. They tell me that she had never brought anything sensitive home. This wasn’t like the movies, they said. I should keep this foolishness to myself. They told me many things, but I saw the doubt line their faces. In their hearts they knew I was lying. They knew I was phishing for information, but this was too big. Any doubt had to be squashed. I had set things in motion.\n\n\nThey came to me and put me in a car. They asked what I knew. I told them I knew nothing and they threatened me. They said this was a matter of the world’s security. A stupid man like myself would never understand. They said they would kill me if I didn’t go away. They told me to leave her for good and never come back. Go live out my life in some backwoods somewhere.\n\n\nI left the car scared, but with answers. This was bigger than I could have ever thought. I loved my wife but she was always too smart with not enough heart. I wondered if I could do it, if I could follow through. I thought of myself from the future, those eyes mainly. They represented a generation unborn, full of sorrow and misfortune. Maybe I was going mad, but if I was it was too late. She didn’t have anything to live for again anyway, I thought. This was bigger than any of us regardless.\n\n\nI visited her one last time and I spent hours there, watching her. I felt my life being forfeited the minute I stepped in, those eyes following again, their calculations made up. I knew I wouldn’t be leaving the hospital. But I didn’t need to. \n\n\nI asked for her forgiveness and I thought of those eyes again, of that face, the terror etched upon it in hardened flesh. Those eyes begged me, desperate and afraid. I closed my own and took a deep breath. This was bigger than all of us. I took the pillow and held it over her face, pressing hard for the future I would never live to see. I heard the crashing of the door as the men stormed in, guns cocked, ready to play God. I couldn’t think much and I accepted my fate. They were too late anyway. It was all over by the time they fired."
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[WP] You are a soldier from Earth, fighting in the first inter-planetary war. | 10 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"I didn't have much choice than to join the army. It was literally the only thing left for me, given the state I was in. I came from a poor family, lost it when I was 9 during the Energy War - along with my right arm and an eye. I was lucky to learn English from one of the missionaries, but at the same time, I wasn't lucky to enter a high school. All of my friends left the country in search of a better life, while I had to struggle just to survive. With so much cheap labour on the market, nobody wanted to hire an uneducated crippled minor, so I had to accept any - any - job that I was offered just to make the ends meet. Back then I knew that I only had to survive until the age of 18, when I would be of an appropriate age to join the military. It's ironic that I had to become a part of a machine that ruined my life, but I didn't see any other opportunities. \n \nThe good thing about the United Army was that took care of their recruits, and they didn't give a damn who you were as long as you were sane. To them my disability was an asset, since it gave them a green light to patch me up and enhance me with the cybernetics, while ensuring that I wouldn't quit later: the prosthetics were the army's property, after all, and I was only allowed to use them as long as I remained loyal and stayed in line. \n \nThey gave me a decent roof over the head, a nice salary, and three nutritious meals a day. It was in the army that I got to meet people who I could truly call my friends, and I knew that I could rely on them - not only on the battlefield, but just in general. I can really say that I enjoyed it there. But there wasn't a day when I wouldn't think of the life that I could've had if not for the war. Would it be any better than the one I already had? Would I have to struggle on the streets if my family was alive? I guess there's no way of knowing that. I guess that I just had to accept it and move on. \"What army taketh away, it giveth\". \n \nI was paid and fed just so that when a time would come I would be ready to take up my arms and get to killing whomever I was told to. So when the duty called I had no choice then to obey. But I still had that lingering regret before the deployment: I joined the army just to survive, but was my life really worth it to destroy the life of others? After all, even if they were from another planet, they were still humans. \n \nMe and my squad were deployed to Mars to \"suppress the rebellious cell\" that had taken over the colony and was \"pushing its own agenda to become independent from the Earth\". But I knew that it wasn't so simple. I knew that they wouldn't send so many troops if it was just to take down the new government. They were planning the first Interplanetary War, just to make Mars an example, just like They made an example of my country during the Energy Wars. They weren't ultimately interested in the diplomatic approach, no matter what they said on the Internet, as they knew the oldest lesson that They had learned from Their fathers: the history was written by the victors. Not the diplomats. \n_________\nMore? [Here.](https://www.reddit.com/r/Scandalist/comments/4n4iu6/authors_message_welcome_new_readers/)\n",
"\"Attention cadets!\" The shout of a drill instructor rang through the air. \n\"You have all been tested, you have been bent, some of you have been broken. But you who stand before me today... you have passed! You proud cadets who have passed their tests, who have shown this world who the real man is! It is you that Earth rests its hopes and dreams on! And I say this with honor, the only honor a man can have in these dark times! Congratulations cadets!\" A tear slides down his face, the new recruits don't know how proud he is of them. \nA resounding cheer breaks out across the ranks of men and women, they cheer not only for themselves. But for their compatriots who made it through the rough training with them. What the recruits don't know is how many of them won't make it through the coming months in the war. \nI shake my head and walk away from the parade grounds, leaving my cohorts behind. One of them, drill instructor Luego, catches up to me. \n\"Where're you goin' mate?\" He reaches for my shoulder. \n\"I'm sick of this, the citizens of Earth don't even know what's going on up there. All they know is that there's a war.\" I brushed off his hand and kept walking. \n\"Siris! Leaving early are we?\" Wallace walked up behind me. \n\"As a matter of fact I am, *Vice Admiral Wallace*.\" A sneer crept into my voice as I said his title. The man hadn't done anything to deserve his laurels. Least of all a position commanding so many people. \nHis laugh drew looks from the crowd of graduating recruits \"Are you still upset about that *Captain Siris*?\" \nI sighed, \"You wouldn't understand, you haven't seen the true face of our enemy yet. I'm off to bed though. The only shuttle leaving tomorrow is at O' four hundred hours.\" \nLuego seemed disappointed, \"You won't be joining the festivities then?\" \nWallace turned back to the parade grounds, \"No, he won't be joining us Luego.\" \n \nEarly the next day I was off, my leave of absence had ended with the recruits graduation. At least they didn't leave for another week, I don't know if I could stand taking the shuttle out off planet with them. \nNot many people were going off-world today though, a bit odd to be honest. Usually these shuttles were packed to conserve fuel, but then again we could afford to be a bit wasteful. The Planetary Alliance of Earth Nations (or PAEN for short) had recently captured a fuel depot orbiting Kornwell-8. This was a major development in the war against the Kevalians, even the Earth dwellers heard about it. \nEver since our initial contact with the Kevalians, we have been at war. Professor Kornwell, one of the top scientists at NASA had figured out a way of fast and cheap interstellar travel. I don't know the specifics but it had something to do with bending space with wormholes. With a gateway opened to a whole new universe of opportunities the nations of the world capitalized immediately. They went in search of resources, and more importantly habitable planets. The first one discovered was in fact, found by Professor Kornwell yet again. The whole system was named after him, and the planet... Kevalia. \nA team of thirty seven astronauts was sent there. An easy trip, it wasn't too far from the Sol System. When they got there, something went wrong. No one knows what happened on the planet but after a few panicked transmissions back home the team went dark. Shortly after... we were invaded. They destroyed Hope, one of the two *only* Martian colonies we had. \nThe nations of the planet quickly unified against the threat, however the Kevalians didn't press their advantage. They retreated back to the Kornwell System. It's been two years now, PAEN has been pushing forward at every available option, they have taken most of the offworld sites the Kevalians have in their own system. And it's just a matter of time until we attack the homeworld. \nThat's actually why we have the new recruits, we're preparing for what is hopefully the final assault of this war. \n\"You have arrived at the moon.\" The soft chime of a loudspeaker broke my reverie, I was on the moon again. \nThe captain of the shuttle began issuing instructions \"Colonists, proceed towards dock A. Miners, proceed towards dock B. And soldiers, proceed towards dock C. If you have any questions please consult the information desk.\" \nI unbuckled myself and got off the shuttle. The moon wasn't used for much more than a launch pad in the beginning days of our interstellar travel, but now it was invaluable as a military headquarters. \nI took a deep breath, I was going back into the fray. \n \nSorry I sorta didn't add any battles, more backstory and edginess. Maybe I'll continue but I'm not sure. Hope you like it though."
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"1475780853"
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[removed] | [WP]You can tell how evil people are by a number on their heads, With a bank robber being a 9 and a fire man being a 2, Today you see a 4 legged helicopter from the universe where grass has taken over the world with the letter h on it's head. | 0 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"Hi there, \n\nThis post has been removed as it violates the following rules: \n\n\nCopy-cat prompts (taking a recent prompt and changing only a small detail) and recent reposts (even unintentional) are not allowed. Please search the sub before submitting. If your idea is based on something you read elsewhere on reddit, chances are it's been submitted here already. \n\n\n\nPlease refer to the [sidebar](/r/writingprompts/about/sidebar) before posting. If you have any questions or concerns, please feel free to send us a [modmail.](https://www.reddit.com/message/compose?to=%2Fr%2FWritingPrompts&subject=Removed%20post&message=https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/56cfm4/wpyou_can_tell_how_evil_people_are_by_a_number_on/?ref=search_posts%0A%0A)\n\n\n---\n\n[Link to the removed post](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/56cfm4/wpyou_can_tell_how_evil_people_are_by_a_number_on/?ref=search_posts)"
] | [
1,
1
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"1475860034",
"1475860882"
] |
[WP] Something terrible has happened and literally everyone on the planet is unhappy about it, except you. | 17 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"(note: the thoughts of this story's protagonist are not mine. Please don't hate me) \n\nFuck 'em. Fuck' em all. Fuck the hippies and peaceniks, self-righteous assholes who tell you we should all get along. Fuck the feminist cunts always trying to whine about how those bitches always have it so bad. Fuck the niggers, whining about racism and shit instead of getting a job and not beating their kids. Fuck the wetbacks and the spicks, the chinks and the sand niggers, fuck the Europeans and the Canadians, and all the rest of those Commie asswipes. I always told them they'd get theirs someday, oh yes I did.\n\nThat nigger president said it was \"historic\" when the little green shits showed up from Mars or wherever the hell they're from. The elitist scientists said it'd be an opportunity for us to learn about ourselves and the universe, as if some alien is gonna' know more about me than I do. The corrupt cronies in the UN said it would make for a new era of \"world peace\", as if I'll ever give up my guns. And of course all the freeloaders are wondering just what sort of free shit they can get outta' this. Like, they just fucking *got* here and you want them to give you free food and healthcare and shit.\n\nFuck all of you, you self-obsessed pieces of shit.\n\nWhen they said they wanted to preserve and protect the human race, you all cheered, you fucking idiots, like they gave a shit about you. You celebrated, thinking now you didn't need to do anything, right? Oh no, the geen men were taking care of everything for you.\n\nTurns out, they wanted a representative, someone that exemplifies just what us humans are, so all the galaxy knows when our sun goes nova in about... three minutes. One person to represent all of humanity.\n\nBet you assholes thought they'd pick a hippie or a nigger or something, right? Well, I guess these ugly fuckin' aliens are smarter than that. They knew who was the best that humanity had to offer. I've been saying all along that I'm better than all of you fuckers, and now I have proof.\n\nI don't know why you're all bitching about it. Your lives weren't going to amount to much anyway, so now you don't need to worry about it. In three minutes, your worthless lives won't matter at all. But don't worry, all them other aliens will still have me so they'll know what a *real* man is. I hear tell they're going to be making me immortal too, so I'll keep going on for all of eternity showing every alien there is just what humans were like. You're welcome, you fucking ingrates. "
] | [
1,
11
] | [
"1475862685",
"1475871634"
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[WP] You buy a deadly haunted house, little do the demons know you are an even older form of ancient evil. | 3,205 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"Waking up in the century-old four-poster bed, I realise there are sounds coming from downstairs. It sounds like dripping, if the drops were fist-sized, or a wet sort of tapping. I push off the warm covers and reluctantly leave behind the comforts of sleep. \n\nThe great stairwell creaks with every step I take, the wood ancient but well-preserved. I come to a halt on the third step from the bottom as I see what appears to be a large, slimy drop join the growing pool of mucus-like substance coating the hall below. The stench is revolting; a mix of bile and burned rubber, with a hint of something almost citrus-y, made all the more disturbing for its presence in this affront to any olfactory sense worth its salt. \n\nWith the sound of a wounded animal vomiting chunks of its own viscera, an entity is birthed from the shadowy confines of the ceiling above. Slowly, it unfolds, a producer of gore-film's wet dreams paired with the aborted fetus of a hairless, genetically deteriorated ape, covered in frothy viscous slime from the bottom of its small clawed feet, to the malformed wing on its right shoulder, and what looks disturbingly like a child's severed arm poking out in the same spot on its left. As if the slime somehow stretches, it slowly comes to rest in front of me, a nightmare made mutilated flesh.\n\n\"Your tricks always were vulgar and unrefined\", I state in a dry, dispassionate voice, my face held in a mask of mild disapproval, not a single hair in my neatly trimmed salt-and-pepper beard out of place.\n\nThe creature stares at me until the silence becomes both demanding and awkward. \n\n\"...\"\n\nThe creature's voice is not at all what you would expect.\n\n\"... Father!?\"",
"\"So you don't think i should buy the house?\"\n\n\"OF COURSE NOT?\"\n\n\"Why not? It could be fun!\"\n\n\"They haven't even finished removing the last owner, look, there are pieces of him on the chandelier.\"\n\n\"Yeah, like i said, fun. What could be more fun than a murderously haunted house, my best friend, and a bunch of nymphs on stripper poles?\"\n\n\"Ever since you beat ka the first in that bet, you have been so annoying.\"\n\nThe two men stood in the entry way of an old decrepit mansion, ignoring the blood that ran down the walls and the childs voice that sang to them from the shadows.\n\n\"Hey, maybe it won't turn out to be haunted by the cast out demons of the nine hells! You could just be overreacting.\"\n\n\"OVERREACTING?? There was blood coming from every faucet and the toilet was filled with what looked to be the previous owner, even now there is blood flowing down the walls and some brat has been singing show tunes at us for over an hour.\"\n\n\"Alistaire, calm down, these could all just be coincidence.\"\n\nA demon chose that time to ignite the carpet they were standing on, blue and black flames leaping towards the ceiling.\n\n\"Oh for the love of all the old ones, would you do something nick? If i have to buy another suit ill kill you twice!\"\n\nNick waved his hand and the flames died down and vanished.\n\n\"I AM NICHOLAS CAGE YOU IDIOTS, I WILL NEVER DIE\"",
"Moving in was stressful. With a busy day job, concerts, all hours events, coming home tonight and finally relaxing was all that was important.\n\nEverything set up. Bed? Check. Fridge? One of those nice funky American ones, with water. Check. Stereo system? Check.\n\nThe previous owners? Both dead. The ones before that? Also dead. Not really surprising given the area. Some people say 'haunted house?'. Pah.\n\nWhat was that noise? Just the wind.\n\nNothing.\n\nHmm... did that shadow move? Surely not. Must just be a reflection from the lights outside.\n\nAnother noise? Ok, time to drown it out. If there really are monsters here, this will take care of them.\n\nWhat shall I play? My new album? Nah. Lets go straight in to the powerful stuff. The one that really made a difference to my life. And everyone, really.\n\nHmm... where did I put the CD? Here it is. [Click, whirrr....]\n\n....'Never gonna give you up... never gonna let you down... never gonna run around and desert you...'\n\nBow before me, monsters! For I AM Astley! Come forth, and Ask Me Anything!",
"As a fan of minimalism, how about a haiku? \n\n**Satan Buys a Haunted House to Enjoy a Small Moment of Irony**\n\nThat moment when some \n\npoltergeist tries his 'lil tricks\n\nOn a Demi-God. ",
"Jasper walked through the small door into his house, welcoming the warmth it brought. It was too terribly chilly outside for his liking, what with winter on its way. Too much snow. Too much chill. No no, he much preferred to live in the heat, regardless of how hot it got. He could handle it. He settled in and made his way through his routine - eat, drink, bathroom, then sleep. Without fail, he stuck to it. Routine was vastly underrated in his opinion, whatever worth it had.\n\n\nCurling up underneath a couple blankets, Jasper sighed contentedly. This was where the world stopped. His opinions, thoughts, worries, fears, everything stopped the second he was comfortable. That was his superpower, well... one of them. If Jasper couldn't control his own mind, what could he control?\n\n\nJasper loved his new house, it was a serious upgrade from the cramped trailer he had... existed in before. Life before wasn't really a life. The trailer had no room for him to breathe, or to stretch his legs, but it worked well enough as a temporary dwelling, he supposed. The house Jasper had now, though, couldn't be more different. It was a beautiful, traditional Victorian that would've lured typical human beings into possibly buying it because of the attractively low price, and would've forced them to evacuate mere weeks afterward. Humans couldn't handle demons and it honestly made him... well if he could laugh, he would.\n\n\nWhen he first moved in, the so-called demons made their best attempts to make him bristle. It never worked. Occasionally he humored them. The worst they could do, rarely, is pass through his body and give him a chill. Again, he hated cold. Jasper was used to extremely hot temperatures, temperatures that would turn Hell's inhabitants into ash.\n\n\nHumans passed down tales of Hell being so hot, it'd burn your skin, or so cold it'd make you shiver all over (even down to your bones, apparently) and all the different circles and different beings, blah blah blah. Jasper knew better. There was only one solitary circle. It was red, filled with malicious creatures, and weak. Laughably weak. Jasper's kind had existed far longer than mere millennia, and definitely longer than Hell had even existed. Such a place wasn't even thought about when Jasper's kind was created.\n\n\nA newer, younger, less-experienced being had been the cause of amusement for some weeks now. Moving things around. Making noise. Shrieking. Staring at Jasper while he slept. Weak. Weak. Weak. He ignored all of it... most of the time. This drove the demons insane.\n\n\nThe sun had since risen and Jasper arose from the blankets to make his way into the living room. To his favorite spot. Someone had taken the space and Jasper blinked once to change his eyes from the typical yellow-green to shiny silver with extreme anger behind them that he could channel at will. The occupant instantly disintegrated into dust and disappeared. Jasper blinked again, his eyes appearing whatever equivalent of \"normal\" his kind could conjure up.\n\n\nJasper turned from a human into his more comfortable form - a cat, and jumped up onto the window cushions. Ah, warmth. He settled in for a nap, purring contentedly.",
"She turns the brass door knob on the front entrance, already making notes in her head to replace them with something more modern like brushed nickel. The peeling white paint on the door and door frame also fails to escape her notice. If she decides to buy, Jaya will have some long days ahead of him. \n\nThe door closes hard behind her, the sound echoing through the large foyer. The inside of the house is painted the same egg-shell white as the door and full of the same obvious blemishes and scratches. The winding staircase leading up to the second and third floors is covered in an ugly stained carpet, but she doesn’t doubt that there are beautiful oak floors full of secrets underneath. In fact, it looks like the realtor already had the job done in the entrance and kitchen. She watches a couple walk through the entryway, their blue booty covered shoes scuffing along the hardwood. She looks down to see a basket of the shoe covers sitting on the rug next to her. Looking down at her high, pointed heels, she decides to ignore them and enjoys the sound of her shoes clacking on the floor, surely making dents in the wood panels. She finds who she’s looking for in the kitchen. \n\nA woman who looks to be in her thirties leans against the counter, checking over a book with several emails and names written down. She appears bored as she taps a pen on the granite countertops, flipping it over in her fingers with each movement. The woman in heels clears her throat. \n\n“Oh, hello miss,” the realtor says. She looks her over and makes an obviously disapproving face when she sees the woman’s uncovered heels. “I guess I should’ve heard you coming. I’m Sarah.”\n\nShe puts out her hand. The woman in heels makes no movement to shake it. \n\n“Lorelai. So can you tell me why the pricing for the house is so low? Especially in this neighborhood?” \n\nSarah brings her hand back in. “Getting right to it, huh?” She peeks around the corner to make sure the other couple in th3e house is no longer around. Reaching into her bag on the table, she pulls out a manila folder with the last name “Branson” printed on it. “This might tell you what you need to know.” \n\nLorelai opens up the files. In the top corner of the opening page is the mug shot of a young girl. The glint in her dark eyes made it immediately clear that something wasn’t quite right with her. She continues to read down the page. \n\n“A quadruple homicide huh? That’s bound to scare people away,” Lorelai says. She uses one of her long, painted nails to flip to the next page. “And child murder involved, in the front room of all places.” \n\nAt least that explained why the floors in the foyer were so new. \n\n“Not exactly information you want to advertise but unfortunately, it falls into the seven year window,” Sarah says. “But beyond that, the house has been standing for one hundred and fifty so its rich in history.”\n\n“Bloody good history apparently,” Lorelai says. “Are there any other pieces of…rich history you’d care to share?” \n\n“None that I’m required to by law.”\n\nLorelai takes a deep breath and smiles. \n\n“That’s okay, I don’t think I’ll need your help figuring it out. Mind if I take a look around?” \n\n“Please do. There are three floors and an attic and basement. Nine rooms and seven and a half baths.” \n\n“Good to know.” Lorelai begins to walk away back to the staircase. \n\n“Oh, do you mind giving me the file back?” Sarah asks. \n\nLorelai hesitates, then holds it closer to her chest. \n\n“Sorry, but I think I’ll be needing this in deciding if I want to buy.”\n\nSarah’s face contorts somewhere between worry and disgust. Lorelai flashes her another smile before leaving the kitchen. \n\n“Now, where should we start,” she says to herself. Opening up the file, she begins to read over the murder and where the bodies were found. “Ah, stabbed forty-seven times in the third floor bedroom. What do you think if we start up there, Jaya?” \n\n“Sounds splendid, milady.” The demon, Jaya, appears behind her, dressed in a top hat and suit with coattails. She’s told him several times that she hates his old appearance and threatened once or twice to rip the curled mustached off of his face. He continues to remind her that she may have control over his spirit, but that he will hold on to the little freedom he has over his outward appearance. \n\nThe begint to climb the stairs, her shoes still clacking aginst the hardwood below despite the carpet covering. The steps don’t get any steeper, but she can feel the pressure beginning to weigh on her. In fact, she can almost taste it: the bitterness, the hate, the rage, the fear. \n\nDelicious. \n\n“Do you feel that, Jaya? I thnk we may have hit the jackpot with this place.” She opens the bedroom door where the last murder took place. Inside is a small bed covered in a superhero comforter with posters on the walls of different comic book heroes and villains. She takes a deep sniff again, the smell overwhelming. \n\n “I know you’re here. So come and play. I won’t bite.” She pulls back the curtains over the window violently. “Promise.” They hide nothing.\n\n“Milady, I would recommend being more careful. From my calculations, I believe you have more to deal with than…children.” \n\n“Oh please,” she blows him off with a wave of her hand. “You act like I haven’t dealt with you and your kind for centuries now.” \n\nShe crouches down and pulls up the bed skirt. Something underneath the bed shrinks further trying to avoid her. \n\n“Ah, here we go. I knew I would find you in here somewhere.” \n\nHe cowers under the bed, barely six years old with blood covering his face and ninja turtles’ t-shirt. His skin practically glows in the low light, the last shade he was probably before bleeding out on the bed. She reaches her hand underneath and he shrinks further away from her. \n\n“That’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you,” she says, her voice sweet like syrup. \n\n“I will remind you, milady, that talking with spirits and talking with people have many similarities. For instance, honesty is still the best policy.”\n\nShe looks back over the bed, her hand still holding up the bed skirt. \n\n“Oh, shove it, Jaya, I’m not that evil.” \n\n“I believe that is up for debate, milady.”\n\nShe looks back under the bed at the small boy. He quakes in fear. \n\n“Hmm, it’s not me your afraid of, is it?” \n\nThe shake of his head is barely visible through his violent quivering. \n\n“So, there’s someone else here?” She asks him.\n\nHe nods his head. \n\n“Well let’s take care of him, shall we?”\n\t\nShe drops the bed skirt and stands to look around the room. A breeze blows in from outside, waving the curtains up in the air in an extravagant motion. This causes a draft to blow through the room, slamming the door shut and revealing a closet door in the corner. She snorts. \n\t\n“I should’ve known he couldn’t cause such a commotion.” She walks towards the closet door, but Jaya stops her with her hand on the knob. \n\t\n“May I recommend against you doing that, milady? I don’t think you can comprehend the danger-“\n\t\n“The danger of what? A monster that’s so weak it can only entertain itself by terrorizing the ghost of a small child?” She swings the door open wide. \n\t\nA face full of pointed teeth stares back at her, its eyes alight with fire. It swipes out at her with a clawed hand. She easily steps back and dodges causing the demon to fall to the ground.\n\t\n“Wow. The monster in the closet. How original.” \n\t\n“Even I must say that I am rather unimpressed,” Jaya says. \n\t\nThe demon stands up and shrieks at both of them. \n\t\n“Who the fuck are you two? And just who the fuck do you think you are coming in here and disrupting everything?” it growls. \n\t\n“I think that I’m the monster in your closet,” Lorelai says. With a wave of her hand, the monster is pinned up against the wall. It squirms and screams underneath her grip. Tears begin to form in the demon’s clothing followed by black liquid leaking out. It cries louder as Lorelai clenches her fist. \n\t\n“Tell me your name.”\n\t\nIt screams louder in defiance, fighting against Lorelai’s bindings. She pushes the demon further into the wall and cuts deeper into its flesh.\n\t\n“Tell me your name, or I will send you back to the depths of Hell!”\n\t\nThe demon stops screaming and stares at Lorelai.\n\t\n“You don’t have the power to do that,” it says, black liquid pouring out of its mouth. \n\t\n“I have the power to do whatever the hell I want.” \n\t\nThe demon and Lorelai continue in their stand off. Jaya steps forward. \n\t\n“If I may make a suggestion for the both of you. As someone who was once where you were and who made the wrong decision, I would very much recommend not getting on milady’s bad side,” he says. The demon moves its gaze to him before giving up its struggle altogether. \n\t\n“Hazel,” it mutters. \n\t\n“I’m sorry, what was that?” Lorelai asks, cupping one of her palms to her ear. \n\t\n“My name is Hazel,” the demon nearly screams. She is released from the wall and falls to her knees. During all of this, the young boy has emerged from under the covers. Lorelai bends down and reaches out to him again. \n\t\n“See? Didn’t I tell you that you have nothing to be afraid of when I’m here?” \n\t\nThe boy looks at her with wide eyes. Hesitantly, he places his shaking hand I hers. She pulls him out slowly and holds him close to her.\n\t\n“There we go. See? Much better than under that bed hiding from this…weakling.”\n\t\nHazel growls at her, baring her wolf-like teeth again. The boy whimpers and turns his face so that it presses in to Lorelai’s stomach. \n\t\n“Call me whatever you want, but I guarantee there are much darker things than me lurking in this house,” Hazel says.\n\t\n“Oh, I was counting on it.”\n\t\n“I’m not just talking about demons either. Real monsters, real evils. Things that would even scare you,” she says, her growl turning into a smile. \n\t\n“Hm. I doubt that, sweetheart,” Lorelai says. “You see, the last time I was truly scared was when they were tying me to a stake and setting me on fire.”\n\t\n",
"\"So, does this place seem like something that you'd seriously considering buying? I do wish to let you know that there have been quite a number of complaints and deaths in this house, which isn't abnormal but it's an oddly high amount. The choice is yours.\"\n\nQuietly contemplating, I thought to myself whether I would want my family to live in a place like this or not. The neighborhood is nice, but I'm not sure how they would feel about living in a place like this. Maybe I should stay a night here alone just to get a feel for it? If I don't like it then I can probably do some work to it and put it back on the market.\n\n\"Hello?\"\n\n\"Oh! Yeah sorry about that. Uhmm.. Yeah sure why not, let's do this. It should be fun!\"\n\nThe realtor looked at me with confusion \"... And you're positive? Well alright then! There is still some paperwork that we need to do so I'll give you a call in about a week.\" \n\n\"Oh, hey is it okay if I stay here for the night? After hearing about your story of noise complaints, and strange happenings I'd like to give the place a feel for myself. I have a family and I just want to make sure they aren't going to get freaked out or anything you know?\"\n\n\"Hmmm, well... I mean I suppose it wouldn't hurt anything. Here is the key, welcome to your new home!\"\n\n\"Thanks! I'm sure it'll be an interesting.... Wait, he was just here. Where did he go?\"\n\nThe realtor seemed to vanish without so much of a whisper. Maybe he had to leave? Honestly I'm not sure, but I shouldn't try to think too much about it. \n\n\"Maybe I should go exploring the rooms a bit more.\" I said out loud, to make it seem a little less lonely here.\n\nAll of a sudden there was a massive crashing sound in the basement. I turn towards the door that leads downstairs and make a run for it. Pacing myself so I don't end up tripping and falling. I reach the bottom of the stairs and look around, so far I don't see much of anything. Oh what's this..?\n\n\"Someone seems to have dropped a bunch of gardening tools and... Oh look an axe! Maybe someone just wanted to... Axe me something!\"\n\nMaking yourself laugh at dumb jokes is a healthy habit that I recommend to anyone. It eases me quite a bit. Not that this place is particularly scary, but something does feel amiss here. Just then I heard what sounded like a door slamming shut upstairs! I make it up the stairs as fast as I can, but again as soon as I reach the top there isn't anything remarkable.\n\n\"Oh well.. It's late and maybe I should try to get some sleep.\" I said, I'm not very tired but I don't really have much of anything else to do. Not until we can get a crew to bring over the furniture. \n\nLaying down, I begin to nod off.\n\n\"What? I-I... I'm sorry I couldn't..You're speaking too softly.\" I wake up, to myself muttering something. Obviously for someone else but looking around I don't see anyone else in the room. As if a massive surge of cold air came through the window, I feel an icy cold grip around my neck! \n\n\"Wh..What are you?! Show yourself! No.. I have a better idea.\" Staring sternly to the center of the room, I make a show of force. With a slight pulse, I coerce the being into submission.\n\nLooking at the floor, it seems as though it's unconscious. It's obviously not human, but an ethereal spirit's consciousness isn't bound to its apparition. So what manner creature does that make you? Hmmmm well then! Let's tie you up for starters!\n\n\"Uhhh... Wh.. I..\" The creature started awaking slowly and incoherently.\n\n\"Was it too much maybe?\" Thinking out loud to myself.\n\n\"Wha.. Where am I? Who are you?\" The creature began to speak.\n\nGetting a look at it, the creature looked female in stature, but she had three eyes with purple skin and what looked to be white glowing tribal tattoos. Well not tribal exactly, probably runic to be exact. White hair, one eye sporting a light blue color and the other is shrouded with what seems to be complete blackness.\n\n\"Free me of these bindings! I have no idea how you've managed to force me into submission or bind me but be warned that there WILL be consequences!\" She said in a very aggressive yet.. whispering tone.\n\nI tried to pay no attention to her words, and just studied her features more. She had what looked to be a black metal bar with etchings on it, adorned with a tiny lantern hanging from a chain link hooked to a loop at the top. I walked towards it to pick it up. \n\n\"NO! Don't TOUCH it. If you put so much as a finger on my things, there will be an even worse fate in store for you!\" \n\nIgnoring her words, I picked up the item. Next thing I know I'm being surrounded by a blinding light, souls of the dead swirling around me. I.. I can see it now, she killed them all. The massive amount of deaths that happened here... They were all her fault. She lured them here. Even the realtor was trapped in this pool of souls.\n\n\"J-Just.. what are you..?\" The demon called out to me.\n\n\"I..\" I just looked at her, as the souls around me started to fade. It seemed the object reacted to my ancient blood. Freeing the souls trapped inside. \n\n\"The way that my artifact reacted.. you're no human. Looking at you now I feel a presence that I didn't feel before. Why hide all that enormous power? I knew your soul was strong but I've never felt such an overwhelming presence.. All of that, but why do you look so sad? I can't help but feel like I'm going to break down and cry..\" The demon said in a nearly hushed tone. The aggression was gone.\n\n\"I'm... a very ancient being. Long ago, I was planted on this world by the creator to watch and observe human behavior. I was only given one task. Record human history as it unfolds. Should I judge them to be unfit, I am burdened with the task of delivering a message with one outcome of two. I love the humans, I think they're a beautiful race that us celestials should aspire to. My scales however aren't so biased. By the year 2030, the human race must tip the left side of the scale. If not, then the Earth will face punishment, no spirits will be spared. Including yourself.\" I told her, as she sat and stared at me.\n\n\"Your soul is in eternal anguish because of the mark you bare. I know you, You are the chained leviathan. You are, the messenger of the damned\" She looked to me in surprise. \n\n\"May I see the scales?\" She asked, inquisitively.\n\n\"Here they are.\" With a flicker of light, the scales appeared hovering above my palm. Glowing blue fires in each side. \n\nHer look of curiosity soon turned to one of terror and dread. As she noticed, that there was a certain blackness that poured into.. the right side of the scale.",
"\"No...no.\" I said.\n\nThe real estate agent came back with another offer. Houses in Toronto were going for far more these days. The market had gone bonkers. Just fucked. Up a few hundred percent since 9/11.\n\nShe mentioned that her sellers wanted more. *More.* There were multiple offers. I mean, it might have been a half-shack leaner, but it was a house. A *house.* And in actual Toronto, not that shit that we call Toronto these days. *Real* Toronto. In between the DVP, Eglington, and Jane. The actual, real, city.\n\n\"It's a place with good bones, a place to-\"\n\nI stopped her right there. \"This house is falling apart. It's on a busy street. It's a fucking shithole and a deathtrap. Anyone who buys it will be in for at least a hundred thousand on aesthetic repairs alone, and fuck knows what we'll see when we open these walls. Aluminum wiring, asbestos, rot.\"\n\nShe continued, with that pathetic whine that only someone who failed into real estate can muster: \"We need first and best, with a cheque for $100,000 stapled to.\" \n\nI winced. These people can't be fucking serious. But, of course, they were. Too many idiots, too little housing stock. \"Do you know how much housing appreciated in Toronto between 1989 and 2000?\" She looked at me vacant. Eyes that held only a small amount of greed and little else. \"Huh?\" \"Between 1989 and 2000. How much did houses appreciate in Toronto?\" \"Housing in Toronto has always been a good investment, and this property is particularly good in that regard.\" \n\nFuck. *Fuck.*\n\n\"Nothing.\" \"What?\" She answered. \"Nothing.\" I replied. \"If you would have put your down payment in a simple bundle of stocks, or even played the market, you would have made far, far more than in Toronto housing for the last ten years, eliminating the penultimate decade of today. Between 1989 and 2000 houses moved at less than the rate of inflation. *Nothing.*\"\n\nShe looked at me, and just repeated, \"housing is always a good investment, particularly today. Put an aggressive offer in for this house or walk away.\"\n\nSo I walked away. A few years later, she disappeared in a puff of smoke, with nothing left but a crippled economy and a bad pantsuit, crumpled on the floor with peers all around. ",
"\"Sir, I would implore you reconsider.\"\n\nI glanced at the realtor, who was sweating profusely. Cute. A business man with more morals than greed. \"You're not doing your job very well. I have already told you I'm going to take this house. When can I move in?\"\n\n\"A..As you can see, it is empty. As soon as the contract is done, you may move in.\" He took a deep breath, as if to calm himself. \"Sir. This house is haunted. I showed it to you because it was vacant, but everyone who has lived in this house has either turned into a murderer or was found dead. I do not want a death on my hands.\"\n\n\"It's out of your hands, Mr. Cornelius. I'm running impatient. Sell me the house and begone.\" I looked at him coldly, and the nervous realtor nodded.\n\nAfter all the business was done, I called the movers, and waited in the new home. I could feel the presence of the creatures that stalked the halls, and felt more than one set of eyes. I smiled softly at their arrogance.\n\nThere was a soft knock on the door, though I sensed no one outside of it. The demons were starting already. How childish. I ignored the knocking, instead deciding to patrol my new home. It was not a massive home, which was what I expected from the presence of such malicious spirits. And so many of them!\n\nI walked upstairs slowly, and there were footsteps that I was not making made it sound like someone else was in the house. I ignored that too, and proceeded to the master bedroom. My mind tasted the hint of a presence, one I had not felt in some time.\n\n\"My old friend,\" I said softly. \"It makes sense. You drew the others in.\" The presence disappeared, and I realized that he was never truly there. Perhaps he had once been, many years ago, with some poor sap.\n\nThe demons had had enough, and flashed a powerful illusion with their concerted powers, of blood on the walls, which were coming alive and forming the faces of the dead. I scoffed. There were no human souls here. Not yet, anyways.\n\nI waved my hand with a bit of will, and the image faded. The demons panicked, and tried to move away. I held them in place with my will, muttering incantations under my breath to seal them forever.\n\nThey were young. Indeed, their essence had existed before time itself, but consciousness only came to them when my old friend had made contact here. As far as I knew, he barely came to the mortal realm. Including my own ascension, he had only appeared thrice, as far as I knew. I estimated their life, based on the age of the house, to be less than a hundred years old.\n\nPitiful.\n\nImmediately, they fled. But they could not escape the house, and I laughed at their futility. I gave chase slowly, walking towards their presence, delighting in their fear. I invoked necromancy, and spirits, human victims of the demons, fueled by my power and their rage, trapped the demons from teleporting around the place. They ran as mortals from a creature beyond their reckoning. Me.\n\nThe eldest of them, the most powerful by far, led the others back downstairs, and I followed, my senses reaching out to best enjoy this moment. Cornered, the demons turned back to me and combined their powers one last time. I felt the push against me. It would have knocked a mortal man flat, possibly even kill him. I pushed back with my own will and collapsed their pitiable attempt.\n\n\"What is this?\" the eldest demon cried, its voice echoing and haunting. \"A mortal man, dominating us so?\"\n\nI grinned at it. \"You have clearly never dealt with the likes of me. Very few have. What makes you believe I am mortal?\"\n\nThe demon radiated confusion. \"You are no kin of ours, creature. Neither are you a god. Are you an angel then, sent to punish us?\"\n\nI sneered. \"I am no angel. You are not being punished. You are being consumed.\"\n\n\"Consumed?\"\n\nI breathed in their power, and they faltered momentarily. The powers I stole replenished quickly in them, and I felt like I had been handed a great gift. \"You are hardly the most powerful demons I have encountered, but it is a delight that so many of you have gathered here. Perhaps I shall stay here much longer than I had initially anticipated. Your souls shall extend the expiry date on my own, and I will continue to be. Que sera, sera.\"\n\nThe eldest demon tried another lunge, only to fail again. Fear crept into its voice. \"Who are you?\"\n\n\"A man condemned to die.\" But never will.",
"From the moment I walked into this place, I felt home. Its interior filled with ancient furniture covered in yellowed plastic and musty carpets. The covered paintings with heavy drop sheets sealed the deal for me. It was an impressive place, and they were selling it for a song. The realtor was insistent that I check out some of the other places he had for sale. He claimed that they were more up to date with building codes but I had waved him with a briefcase full of money. That single briefcase held more than double the amount of money the house was selling for. But I didn't mind.\n\n\n\nWhat I did mind was after the second week of moving in, the spirit that haunted the place showed herself. Her name was Cassandra, a young spirit who thought that she could scare me out of the house. Before this point, I had noticed that my guns had moved a few times, aiming themselves at me. Or knives tossed at my back. Anything she could do to attempt to kill me. But every time, I sensed her before she could actually get me. I would 'slip' and have the knife fly over my head without so much as harming a hair on my head. Or in the cases of the guns, they had biometric locks - advantages of my race's technology.\n\n\n\nBut when Cassandra showed herself to me after the two weeks of hell, she looked exhausted. Deadly tired, one could say. \"What are you?\" she asked me first, floating to the end of my bed and sitting on the corner. \"You don't know? What's more powerful than any spirit?\" I replied, sitting up and staring through shut eyes at her. Despite the fact she kept trying to kill me, this was the first time she had actually faced me. I couldn't let her know what I was immediately, or she would run. And in doing so, would defeat my entire purpose of being here.\n\n\"I don't know. You're not human, no human is ever that lucky. And a demon you are also not, despite you using our technology. No, nothing could survive as long as you have, unless you're something more than us.\" \"Of course I am,\" I spoke to her, my voice as soft as the velvet bedsheets in which I lay. I opened my eyes now, revealing the blood red eyes behind my pale eyelids. The. As she looked me over, she gasped, before bowing. \"Anubis in Nekuquar...\" she spoke, now in awe. She stopped when she stared into my eyes, and realized who I was. The horror crept across her face as I smirked, before laughing. \"My name is Hell Noire, but you can call me 'Hell'.\" I spoke as she cursed and cursed, now knowing who I was.\n\n\n\n\"If I had known it was you, Hell, I would have...\"\n\n\n\n\"You would have never tried to strike me?\"\n\n\n\n\"Well, no... I'm just so lonely, so scared here. So hungry here,\" the last part growled out, as if angry that she couldn't kill me. Expected, I thought to myself. Spirits would often emphasize the reason they hadn't come to us to go to the Afterlife. And with her emphasizing hunger, meant corruption in her soul. Not good for humanity, but an easy enough time for me... assuming she co-operated, of course.\n\n\n\n\"You've been feeding on the souls of the people that have lived here, Cassandra. Killing them just to eat. You know we can't allow that, and you know that's why I'm here,\" I spoke, reaching for the gun I had on my bedside table.\n\n\n\n\"And I won't let you take me, Hell Noire,\" she shrieked, erupting into a spiritual fireball. She succeed in blinding me for a moment, as I shielded my eyes. Instinct took over, as I rolled from the bed to the floor, grabbing my gun on the way down. I could feel it's heavy grip in my hand and I leveled it in front of me. While it looked like an old flintlock pistol, she shrieked in horror and tried to get away. She appeared to know exactly what it was and what exactly it did. With a small crack, the gun discharged, unleashing the payload into her non-corporeal body. As it tore though her, it sparked and shot out lightning bolts into her form. This would break down the energy that would be running though her, but only for a short time. Once though her, it fell to the ground, rolling now only due to it's spherical shape. It's momentum was no more, as she fell over. Paralyzed from the discharge of over a million volts through her.\n\n\n\nI knew I had to act fast though. Now that she knew who I was, she knew she had to run away from me, for I was her end. I grabbed under the bed the package I had brought with me, and opened it with haste. Inside was a long, thin sword, silver in colour. Beautiful runes engraved on its hilt, and blade, all undecipherable to any human eye. But we both were not human, and we both knew what it did.\n\n\n\n\"Hell, have mercy on me,\" she begged, feeling her energy starting to return to her as she attempted to get away.\n\n\n\n\"You know the punishment for consuming human souls, Cassandra. And you know it's worse that you converted one into a Familiar. You know that we protect the humans and the demons now, and that this is only right.\" I spoke, standing now and wielding the heavy sword with my left hand. I swung it around a little bit as the runes started glowing. Instinctively, she covered her face, knowing she was too weak to run, and knew how I was going to use it.\n\n\n\n\"NOOOOOOooooooo....\" she shrieked, as she attempted to stand, no doubt attempting to blind me again. This time, I slammed the blade though her form, slicing it clean in two. Exploding in a flash of light, she was no more, and my job here, completed. I placed the sword back into its case with the pistol next to it, and slipped both back under the bed. This time tomorrow, the house would be back on the market, now unpossessed for anyone to sell. Old and rickety, perhaps, but no worse for the wear. Humans could proclaim ghost stories about the place, but they'd be none the wiser about the truth. Her Familiar, the realtor who sold it to me would wake up tomorrow for the first time in several years. He'd be free at last from her control, but not remember a single thing about any of it. And, of course, it would be up to me to contact someone to sell this hellhole. Assuming I didn't want to be lazy and let the tax man grab it. Ah well, a job best left for tomorrow, I thought to myself as I drifted off to sleep again. And with that, the house settled without so much as a peep.",
"I'm strolling through the noisy puddles, disgusted with the way the water feels in my shoes and the sound the rain makes. It's a thing that I bought this horrendous house. It will get me out of this rain, and that's all that matters: my comfort and gain.\n\nAs I enter this sad excuse for a structure, I spot the ragged front door lying on the shredded couch and I feel like puking. This is no home for someone as powerful as I.\n\nI hear the sad sobs of a little girl echoing behind me. Any average pest would be chilled to the bone, I can tell, but this creature is messing with a pissed me. As I turn and see the pale figure of a pre-teen rush towards my face, screaming, I grab it by the throat and thunder my annoyance at it.\n\n**I've spent five minutes in the soaking rain, I enter my new, pathetic home, and this is how I'm treated.**\n\n###I'm the demon of envy, bitch. Go haunt someone else's pissing bowl.",
"\"Got another story for us Tony?\"\n\n\"Well Kev, you never know what you're gonna come across in my line of work, but you've gotta deal with everything you get thrown at you cause that's the only way you get paid. Take yesterday for example. I get the van and head up to this big house up the far side of Chester. Nice long drive that one. So I get up there, drive up to the gate, can't be later than 2 and it's pitch black out.\"\n\n\"Pitch black Tony?\"\n\n\"Aye Kevin. Pitch black. Moonlight and everything.\"\n\n\"So what the hell did you do Tony?\"\n\n\"My job o'course Kev. Not gonna let a few smoke and mirrors stop me from putting food on the table am I? Where was I?\"\n\n\"It was pitch black Tony.\"\n\n\"Ah yeah, so it's pitch black, and then the gate opens on it's own. Pretty shoddy security if you ask me but never gonna moan about an easy day on the job. So I get up to the door, and I'm getting ready to use my big voice, you know the one I practiced for when we needed a bingo caller that one time, and a ghost sticks his head through the door.\"\n\n\"A ghost Tony?\"\n\n\"Yeah Kev, a bloody ghost.\"\n\n\"What the hell do ya do in that situation Tony?\"\n\n\"Well I showed him the Letter didn't I. Can't be letting him have the upper hand. Learned that on my first day of the job where...\"\n\n\"You told us that one before Tony.\"\n\n\"I know Barry, I know. I swear, no appreciation for good storytelling you guys. Anyway, I show the ghost the Letter and he pales, goes whiter than he already was and he's like 'I'll go get the Master'.\"\n\n\"The Master Tony?\"\n\n\"Yeah Kev, The Master. Far too pretty for a guy in my opinion, said something about being a vampire. I told him it didn't matter because he was 6 months overdue. He bows his head and Says he'll be out by Wednesday.\"\n\n\"Are you trying to tell me that not only did you meet a Vampire, you handed him his notice and he just skulked off Tony.\"\n \n\"Well Kev, you know how they always give in to a greater evil and all that Jazz. It's like Barry always says. Ain't no greater evil than private bailiffs. Which reminds me Barry. It's your round.\"",
"We needed our own place. I wasn't a bachelor any more, and Tomas and I were supposed to be married in a week. I'd lived at work for most of My life, which wasn't really all that bad... but I'm supposed to be a grownup now, with a mortal husband to care for and protect. \n\nGetting Earth money was surprisingly hard. Any proper person exchanges souls, not money, for anything worthwhile. But I managed, thanks to a greedy and particularly orange politician. I don't think he's treating the soul particularly well, but I got a lot of money for it. \n\nOh, yeah... the house... Super good deal. It's a giant house on the east side of town. It sits on a hill and somehow attracts lightning 24-7. The local kids seem to be afraid of it, and I've let them see Me a couple of times. The running and shrieking is just adorable. \n\nWill Tomas want kids someday? We'd have to adopt, of course. My children usually create apocalypses, and Tomas is a surprisingly gentle man. \n\nFunny story: I was regaling this to Myself, out loud, and the walls practically started salivating at the mention of children. I mean, honestly. Eating children is *so* out of style these days. Addressing lesser creatures isn't done, of course. I mentioned, casually and out loud, that I'd be forced to redecorate if any harm came to a guest in My house. The house pretended to be normal for nearly a week. Hilarious. \n\nTomas, of course, fell in love with the house the moment he saw it. The house's demons were terrified of Me (as they should be), so they pamper Tomas as much as possible. I came home one night, masking my power, to hear Tomas arguing with them about the best way to mix an Old Fashioned. \n\nWe're going to be happy here, together. I just know it.",
"Mr. Soak stepped out of his silver Mustang and looked up at his new home. A small house in the Victorian style, the previous owners had accepted an absurdly low offer for it, seemingly wishing to be rid of it as soon as possible. The house, though old, appeared to be in need of nothing more than minor repairs, much like its new owner. Soak, a slightly elderly man with silver hair, laugh lines around his blue eyes, and a slight limp, and his last name stitched in fine gold thread upon the lapel of his old, slightly faded gray suit approached the door. \n\nUpon opening the main door, Soak was greeted by a narrow hallway containing a rather tacky etagere featuring a large round mirror against the left wall, and a door to the living room in the right wall. Upon crossing the threshold, the door behind him slammed shut and the lights flickered out. Soak turns to regard the door, then turns back to face the hallway.\n\n\"Alright, come on out,\" he calls out into the house. In response, a crack appears in the plaster at the end of the hall and begins slowly spreading towards him, as though an invisible nail was being dragged through it. Soak waited patiently as the line approached, now accompanied by large, clawed footprints in the plaster dust accumulating on the floor. When the line stopped less than a foot away from him, Soak took a deep breath.\n\nSoak's hand shot out, grabbing something invisible directly in front of him. A startled yelp accompanies his fingers wrapping around an invisible throat. As he lifts the throat's owner off of the ground without apparent effort, it slowly becomes visible, revealing a moderately sized black demon with long claws and plaster dust-covered feet.\n\n\"I commend your efforts,\" Soak said, \"but it was terribly unoriginal. I mean, really? Door slamming, lights flickering out, the old nail-in-the-plaster bit? You have to be more inventive than that. And you,\" he said, pointing behind the demon in his grasp. \"Make yourself visible, observing multiple planes gives me a headache.\"\n\nA second demon fizzled into visibility next to the lightswitch at the end of the hall, which it sheepishly stepped away from. \"That's more like it. You two should be ashamed. Back in my day, demons had more skill than this amateur hour \nbullshit. What are your names?\"\n\nThe demon in his grasp croaked out \"Aristophes.\"\n\n\"Steve.\" Said the one at the end of the hall.\n\n\"Steve. A demon named Steve.\" Soak closed his eyes and slowly sighed, shaking his head slightly. \"Alright, whatever. Get out of my house, you two. You're lucky I'm retired.\"\n\nSteve tilted his head slightly, and responded \"And who do you think you are, ordering two demons around?\"\n\nAristophes, whose attention had been caught by something in the mirror, immediately stopped struggling and began making frantic hand signals behind his back, trying to direct Steve's gaze to what he had seen: Soak's name. Or rather, the reflection of his name.\n\n\"Who am I?\" Soak asked. His shadow seemed to rear up behind him, blotting out all light from the door's window. The demons' heads are filled with visions of fire, laughter, and horses. Then, all at once, the visions vanish, leaving only a slightly frail looking man dangling a demon by the throat in the hallway of an old home.\n\n\"I'm the one that left before the band got famous. I'm the original horseman, boys. My name is Kaos.\"",
"The real estate agent couldn't get out of my new house fast enough. Understandable considering she couldn't move the property for nearly a year with the papers calling it a \"truly haunted house\". Poor thing even tried to warn me about an evil presence in the house. It took everything in my being to keep from cracking a grin as she kept asking if I was sure I wanted to move my family here...my family was already here. \nThe real estate agent, after some convincing, finally left with the signed papers. I closed the door behind her, clicked the lock, and leaned into the door. \"Kids come out, come out wherever you are\", I called around the house. Those little demons weren't shy when it came to the previous ten tenants. They were responsible for two suicides, a murder, and numerous commitments. And now they were hiding. They knew they had drawn too much attention and knew why I bought the house. \nI wandered around the house aimlessly. The rooms were still staged to be sold. I went to the kitchen first. There was a cheap bottle of wine on the counter and I polished it off. I could feel their eyes watching me. Punishing them would be too easy. Destroying them even easier. Both were too easy on them. Constant fear. That's what I would do. \nI picked up the wine bottle by the neck and smashed it against the new granite countertop. The house shuddered. I kicked the glass around the tile floor, \"I put you to create monsters, not to kill them\". Those idiots had one job to do: tempt the human inhabitants to become evil. All they had to do was put some ideas into their heads and let the humans damage the world themselves. Instead the demons I let lose in this house started enacting the evil themselves. The young are always short sighted. \nI moved from the kitchen to the dining room. The low hanging light fixture above the table shivered. I knew to really drive the message home I'd have to make an example of one of them. I reached inside my suit pocket and retrieved my pocket watch. I took a seat at the head of the table and pointed to chair opposite of me, \"In thirty seconds, I want the ring leader sitting in that chair\". A mob of whispers filled my ears. \n\"Ten, nine, eight...\" and a wisp of gray smoke found its way to the chair. I snapped my watch shut as the wisp took on the form of a child. She sat with a smile that almost looked innocent, but I could feel the fear behind the mask. \"Of all the demons I left here to corrupt the humans, Ambition is the one that betrays me\" I said to our hidden audience. She countered with her usual excuse, \"I had bigger plans\". \"And now you have none\", with a snap of my fingers I turned the girl into ash. I pulled out my box and swept the little pile of ash into it. \nI moved the show into the living room. Every item in the house was shaking. They were definitely scared and quite frankly they should be. My wife is something to be feared. I have created them, but I wasn't the highest in command. I sat down on the couch and announced, \"I could have done this without buying the house, but Mother has other plans for you and she'll be here soon\". \nI laid back and closed my eyes. The mob of fearful whispers had changed to fits of terrified screams. I could feel the wisps of smoke flying around the house. Not long after I closed my eyes there was a knock at the door. The house fell still, Mother was home.",
"It remains unclear to me what, exactly, the purpose of bequeathing me this crumbling, archaic, ramshackled hut was, but cultists are never very bright. \n\n\n\nThese human structures littered the world from one continent to the next since time amorphus. Apparently. I wouldn't know, having been sleeping in my city for the past few millenia.\n\n\n\nThe world was also \"under New management\" so to speak. Yahweh or something they, the humans, called it. Not that the pitiful machinations of an antidilvulian cult were worthy of note.\n\n\n\nBut I digress, the present situation perplexed me slightly, which in truth is the crux of the matter. This \"house\" I procured from a Mr. Marsh, a long time faithful of mine, and who's body I currently wear, seems to have had been subject to the inadvertent summoning of some of \"Yahweh's\" unruly daemoniac offspring into the archaic structure. \n\n\n\nAt first their attempts to frighten or extort me for my soul proved a source of entertainment. The novelty soon wore off. All it took was one brief flash of my true, gibbous, one would even dare to say cyclopean nature, and the creatures broke down into a babbling mass of hysterics and hollering. \n\n\n\nPerhaps I'll lease this as a rental property and return to R'yleh. It's like the old saying goes; \" Uulwi ifis halahs gag erh'ongg w'ssh.\"",
"The man leaned on his shovel and gazed at his ragged heap of a home. The shutters were leaning at an odd angle, the door was painted a strangely bright shade of pea-soup green, and ghosts infested every square inch, creating a shimmery-silvery-wavering sheen over the entire structure. The man threw his shovel into the garden, and walked up to the door. \n\n---\n\nThe ghosts murmured to each other. They didn't know what to do, how to react to being ignored. They watched the man shuffle around his kitchen, sweeping a dust-laden floor and maneuvering around the hellish spirit screaming in his face. Never looking directly at her, but never running the broom over her clawed feet. He hummed, and the ghosts murmured. \n\n---\n\nThe man cleaned his ramshackle house. He wiped down the ancient end tables left by some unfortunate past owner, and set a painting of his brothers down on the now-clean wood. He stood for a moment, reminiscing, then turned to search for a clean rag. He cleaned, and the ghosts whispered. \n\n---\n\nThey grew bolder over time. One sprite plucked at the mans hair, while another pulled strategic threads from his clothes, ripping them to pieces without ever being noticed. They didn't touch his skin. They had tried, but the burning fingers they wrapped around his wrist charred and fell to the ground as fine, soft ash. The man didn't notice. The man flipped the pages of his bible, and chuckled softly at the stories within. He read, and the ghosts grew restless. \n\n---\n\nThe man stroked his beard and thought about a pet. Something useful. He had considered a goat or a lamb, but the memories associated with those particular possibilities were unsavory. He would just cut the grass himself. A dog, perhaps. Maybe a chicken. Eggs sounded nice, he thought. Maybe two chickens. The ghosts watched him stare into space, and they seethed. \n\n---\n\nOne reached her breaking point. She gathered all the energy she could muster, and swept through the man, an action that had killed the previous three owners of the cursed home. The man shivered. The ghost shimmered, cracked, and fell as a fine dust, blown away before she reached the floor. \n\n---\n\nThe man picked up his bible, turned, and walked to his bedroom, kissing his fingers and touching the painting of his brothers. He set the book down on the nightstand, open to an early page, and laid down. One curious creature crept up to see what the man had been reading. She read, flinched, and slinked out of the room as quietly as she could. \n\n---\n\nGenesis 4:15 - Therefore whoever harms Cain, vengeance will be taken on him sevenfold.",
"Escrow just closed! It's mine. Oh yeah!\n\nPerhaps I should rethink this. The lady next door says it's haunted. Just haunted?! Nah, it'll be fine. Maybe I'll feel better if I have a Slim Jim.\n\nFirst night, utter crap. There was nothing. I wore my favorite shorts, the lucky ones that always attract the supernatural. But no response.\n\nSecond night. Definitely something. Smelled brimstone, it's probably a mid-level demonic beast.\n\nThird night. It manifested. The foot of my bed burst into flames, blood poured out of the closet, and the hell-beast came forth, no doubt intending to eat mild-mannered Joe Carpenter's skinny body. And that is when I struck. I burst from my host Joe's body like a glorious barbarian of old, or maybe those funky aliens from that one movie, flexing my mighty muscles and shouting my eldritch war cry. Needless to say, the demon was paralyzed with fear. I ate it.\n\nOn cold nights, when you feel the monsters of the dark nipping your heels, you know how to call upon me, the root of all that is baneful and masculine. Just snap into a Slim Jim, and with a thunderous \"OH YEAH\" I will enter your pitiful reality. That which does not die eternal will forever sleep, something something, until death itself shall something, whatever. OH YEAH!",
"\"Hey Shawn.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"The realtor lady's taking the sign down.\"\n\n\"Someone bought the house?\"\n\n\"No, she just decided the sign should be moved three inches to the left. Yes she sold the house you idiot! The game is afoot!\"\n\n\"Don't call me an idiot, ¥ahivkn.\" Shawn's voice had tone of warning in it. \n\n\"Okay, okay, sorry Mr. Touchy.\"\n____________________________________________\n\nThe next week an old man approached the house. Unlike others he carried no luggage and was followed by no trucks. \n\nThe ghosts and demons within the house assumed their usual positions. They would have to be subtle, allowing the old man to settle in before showing any of their cards. Ideally they would drive the man insane before they killed him. Fracturing his soul enough that he would join their ranks when he died, withdrawing even that last escape. \n\nHe walked slowly up to the door and entered without incident. He took his time exploring the rooms. Examining each carefully he ran a withered finger over a seam in the wallpaper and gave himself a secret smile. \n\nAndrew, the ghost the old man had just unknowingly molested, gave ¥ahivkn a disgusted look. The demon paid no attention to the overly sensitive dead man, all of his attention was fixed on the visitor who was mumbling to himself.\n\n\"A pity,\" he said. \"I wish Lucy could be here to see this. A disgrace to our name it is, calling this place haunted\" The old man snorted in contempt. \n\nAndrew stepped forward, an ill gleam in his eye and a smirk on his face. The old man would soon learn the truth behind the rumors he discounted so easily. \n\n¥ahivkn held him back with one arm hissing, \"Don't.\" Shawn looked at ¥ahivkn confused. \n\nThe old man chuckled.\n\nThe spirits ignored him, until he said something that left made them prick up their rotting ears.\n\n\"Oh, ¥ahivkn the centuries have left you more cautious than I remember.\"\n\nNo one dared move a finger. \n\n\"Who are you?\" asked ¥ahivkn. \"You cloak yourself to well to be a man.\"\n\n\"Come now my boy,\" said the old man, \"surely you remember your grandfather?\" He turned toward ¥ahivkn, his eyes flashing as red and alive as coals in a fire, and as he did he grew. His back burst through his shirt, scarred and muscled with years of torture. Whether as the torturer or tortured no one ever dared to ask. The flash melted off his fingers, burning holes in the weathered floor, and his bones swelled and burst open. New bloody sinews curled and twisted, forming larger hands from which harsh and deadly claws erupted. \n\n\"€luthakra, grandfather, οδυνηρέ, right hand of the rightful king and commander of his spies,\" ¥ahivkn knelt and placed his hand above where a heart would be if he were human, \"Hail.\" The demon was was trembling. The monster in front of him was famed. He had torn the heir to the throne limb from limb and not been punished for fear of what he might do. He had tortured his closest friends to try their loyalty. He had sired a thousand daughters and sons, and consumed all who showed themselves to be weak. Over four hundred had failed him already.\n\n€luthakra smiled slowly, revealing jagged teeth that gleamed with a deadly edge. \"So tell me of this game of yours.\"",
"The owner was desperate to sell the house and he was selling it dirt cheap, he'd taken me on a guided tour of the place and it looked like a bomb hit it. To the untrained eye it would look like the low price was because of the house's absolutely derelict state, but I knew what to look for, the damage was recently done over a short space of time, he'd probably wrecked the place himself to avoid any questions about why he was selling so cheap. Standing in the living room drinking in all the ethereal energies was what had made me buy the place, after all, it's not every day I come across a place this genuinely haunted, even rarer that the owner was so desperate to get rid of the place, it got me curious.\n\nStaying in there my first night was an interesting experience, my mortal vessel needed to rest but me being what I am I had no such need, I released my fleshy shell into unconsciousness and connected with all the nodes of energy I could feel around the house, it was a bit like astral projection but for elder gods. From my connection to all the nodes I could study them and all the beings connected to them, it was quite fascinating. Each node I discovered was a portal to Hell, or rather they were all the SAME portal to Hell. Not even that, it would be more accurate to say that each node was a PIECE of Hell, such that being at one node put you at all the nodes at once including that point in Hell, I hadn't seen one of these for a very long time. Hell wasn't the only realm capable of forming an overlap conduit but it was the only one with enough gall to, not because of their natural strength but because they never stopped to think.\n\nA realm so full of power was like a box with massive internal gas pressure, opening an overflow conduit was like drilling a small hole in that box, letting some of the pressure out, opening so many released a lot of that pressure, except it wasn't pressurised gas, it was the raw, infernal force of Hell itself, essentially what was pouring out of those nodes was everything Hell could manufacture in potentia, not only that but on the other side there was only one node, so all that pressure was being released through one point, essentially meaning that what arrived here as a multitude of breezes was leaving Hell as a single gale force wind. If they weren't careful they were going to completely stabilise their realm but destroy it in the process.\n\nTwitch\n\nAnd of course they couldn't resist.\n\nThe raw waves of hellfire bleeding through into this world were manifesting themselves as beings that thought themselves primordial, foolish creatures, when the greatest of their demons were in infancy my kind were the myths they feared. My kind are the reason the other realms dare not leave their realm, for fear of angering us. If the power in a realm is like pressure in a box and Hell is like a helium balloon then my realm is like an exploding nuclear bomb, a tiny scratch at the walls between my world and theirs would be enough to completely eviscerate their world and hundreds behind it. What the demons that were materialising considered acts of creation and ancient spells I considered simple parlour tricks.\n\nNot that I would tell them so of course.\n\nMy vessel was full of Hell energy, no doubt if I used it while it was unconscious I would be experiencing a sort of inverse astral projection humans call a nightmare, where the consciousness rather than ascending past the restrictions of the physical body is actually repressed deeper to a state of complete inability to actuate, being allowed only to perceive what it is given, often by a small minded demon.\n\nWhile the demons scrambled about inside my vessel trying to find a consciousness to torment I took the opportunity to seal up their exits, when they found no psyche they began to fear something heinous afoot and rushed to escape, but finding no way out, just as a human would find no way to get their mind out of their body, except by astral projection of course, but that required the vessel to be left empty. When a soul tries to leave a body the body will revert to a state in which its primary functions occur automatically, such as heart beating and cells respiring, one such function is to not let the spirit out, however releasing the spirit also functions like taking the body's battery out, so it's generally of no consequence. In this case however there were many demons inside the body, if one were to try and leave then the body would prevent it and only one could attempt to leave at a time.\n\nMy vessel opened its mouth and eyes and screamed with a demonic, feral noise. All the Hell energy in the house found its way to the room we were in, I took the opportunity to connect to all the nodes in the house and seal them up, blocking their escape back to their home. The demons arrived to find my vessel with its head in its hands flailing wildly and screaming \"Get us out!\" To which they had no response. They all looked about warily, aware that something more powerful than themselves was in control. Suddenly all the lights in the house went out.\n\nGreen flames began in the corners of the room and stretched quickly across the walls until the whole room was cloaked in eldritch fire. It amused me as I heard one of them ask, panicked \"Which one of you is doing that?\" Suddenly my vessels eyes burst into green flame and the demons inside screamed, the ones without watched in horror as the flesh combusted and was torn apart, peeling from the bone and collapsing into ash, destroying the entities possessing it. I suddenly put out all the eldritch fire around the room and burst into being in the fireplace in a torrent of lime green flames, my vessel entirely reconstructed. I stood silhouetted against the light and stared at the remaining demons. Only one word escaped my lips, \"Run\".\n\nThey wasted no time in evaporating and fleeing to wherever would get them furthest from me. The lesser beings were fools if they thought I couldn't find them if I'd wanted to, my kind are the true primordial beings, there at the beginning, responsible for everything. Every realm is the work of one of us, I created this universe personally.\n\nMy name is Jahveh and I personally destroyed my home realm, wiping out 98% of all realities in the process, I did say it was like a nuclear bomb among balloons. I am one of a hundred remaining elder gods.\n\nAnd I will be the last.",
"This place has power. Overlooking the dark city, it’s pier a finger wrapped in fog, the falling hills bathed in light, I can see it all. I feel the power of old belief. The power of magic and of Gods and of fear. This is a city of magic, their trade is to sell it on large screens, but there is real magic here. There are things that lurk the night.\n\n\nThe shadows move in this house. The last stains of old fear come alive for me. Maybe they think I am an old man. Maybe they think I would become another thread in this woven cloth of unhappy endings. Oh how wrong they are. How I will show these demons.\n\n\nI have had a child delivered. It wasn’t hard in this city of angels. I promised to make him a star, one that no one will ever forget. I keep my promises, though I doubt the boy will like it. As the sun sets, I look down at the city from the porch. Even this old wood carries the splinter of memory. An old woman died here, hanging herself from the awning, overlooking the blinking lights of so many dreams. She haunts here still, a ghost as she was in life, angry and trapped.\n\n\nI wonder what she thinks of me. Her voice sings softly as the sky darkens. These demons come out to play, and I suppose I ought to entertain them. I finish my drink and I go inside. The door shuts behind in a windless slam and I hear the boy struggling upstairs. He is good and afraid now, his blood well seasoned. I drain him slowly and he dies a martyr, though not a well composed one. I can feel the spirits watching me, the candle light glinting off the old wooden walls. My shadow grows long and they remain still. \n\n\nThe boy’s blood tastes delicious. It has been so long since I have had such a meal. I feel stronger, empowered. The house shivers in fear. The old woman walks the kitchen, her tortured spirit afraid of my presence. I command her to retell her suicide, soaking up her fear. It makes me stronger still, and I know the time is right. \n\n\nFrom the window the night is again black. Despite all the lights they can hang, the blackness remains, an encroaching fog that will not stay. I watch the pier be consumed by the ocean’s mist. I see the black surround the hills as the trees sway in fear. This city does not know what lurks here. They are blinded by their movie magic and plastic faces to see what really lurks beneath. They do not know who I am. They will never know. But they will fear me. ",
"I'll never forget the day I saw the devil, proof of God, proof of my faith, the day I lost my faith. \n\nI'd been an exorcist for decades. It's a catholic sinecure for priests with no real future as parish leaders or higher up the chain. Mostly alcoholics or scholarly types (so much crossover between those two noble modes of being) but you always meet a few true exorcists. True believers. Men who expect to meet the devil someday and spend their waking hours in prayer or study or meditation, screwing their will to the wall in preparation for the unimaginable, and every four years at the convention in Rome they stand together in the corner, drinking and looking very intently at each other while they spin wild tales of devil worshipers in the frozen forests of Russia or cannibals that never sleep in the south pacific. Yes, we have a convention. Like printer salesmen. \n\nLast year was the same as always, the true believers drinking together and scowling determinedly. I went to say hello to one with whom I'd had some engaging conversation at the last one. Two were talking in whispers until they saw me, then they stopped, staring intently with the tired and sunken eyes of men who spend their lives in books, in dark corners of the world, and who sleep less than they should and drink considerably more. \n\nI started to speak to my acquaintance and we were engaging the usual pleasantries and starting to move onto rugby (a mutual topic of interest, Go Springboks!) when the taller of the two whisperers leaned over and asked my name. I started at his intrusion, then politely told him and wished him good cheer. He asked me if I worked in America, in New York, which of course I did. My work takes me across New England and the Atlantic states, which I told him. He looked at me with a gaze I could not penetrate. His cohort asked if I ever worked in the Hudson Valley. Near Phoenicia? No, I said, never. \n\nThey both smiled and wished us a good evening, then returned to an alcove to whisper intently. \n\nThe rest of the convention was banal. Three absurd seminars, one by the tall inquisitor from the first evening, all depicting medieval sounding encounters with devils of one kind or another. At one point two experts began yelling at each other over which demon had been encountered based on the evidence, the one demanding they march down to the library and sort it out in the original greek, the other damning his eyes for not seeing the obvious (in order to disguise his total lack of greek, or latin for that matter). I yawned and left, flying home through Newark the next morning and returning to my rooms. \n\nTwo days later the Archbishop called my cellphone and asked me if I'd ever been to the Hudson Valley, near Phoenicia. \n\n================================\n\nI walked into the Archbishop's office and he asked me to sit. He wrung his hands, furrowed his brow, began to speak but stopped, then again. He asked me how I liked being an exorcist. Fine, I said. It was true enough. He asked me if I'd had any successful exorcisms. I told him I had, which was true in a way. They were all really psychological problems and one was just a teenager with an overprotective mother. That one was solved by a made-up ceremony with great fanfare and a quiet chat with the teen to just hold it together in front of mom until she was old enough to leave, just stop getting caught. \n\nHe chuckled, frowned, leaned back. He held my gaze for a full minute, then smiled. He handed me a folder and pointed to the door. \n\nGo with God, he said as the door closed behind me. \n\nI read through the first few pages of the report in the Lyft back to New Jersey, courtesy of the archdiocese. Before we'd gotten to the tunnel I told him to stop and take me to Penn Station. By lunchtime I was on the Metro North, by supper I was on a bus to the Catskills. To Phoenicia. \n\n=====================================\n\nI read the report a dozen times on the train, another four on the bus. It was fantastic. An old stone house in the mountains, about a mile and a half from an abandoned hotel that burned down, it had for years been on the church's radar. The stories were downright silly. Drums on the ridge, strange fires at night, chanting and singing and demonic rituals. The photos said it all. There was graffiti and broken beer bottles everywhere. This is really all exorcists do, investigate the superstitious claims of prudish parishioners. They all know it's just teenagers up there, but they miss being young and they don't see why everyone else should have all the fun. \n\nBut the teenagers also talked about strange things happening. People wandering off and showing up at dawn, cold and scared but with no memory of having wandered in the woods all night. Drugs, probably. \n\nThey also talked about lights in the forest, red lamps and low growls, scrapes and chanting. Lights that move faster than people should be able to. Probably hikers, though. There are hiking trails all over those mountains, and lots of people go on night hikes or thru hikes. Mountain bikes too, probably. At night though? Some must, I suppose. \n\nAnd then there were the disappearances. Five. In a year. 1998. Two women, three men, one every week for five weeks. Nobody knew anything was happening until the third disappearance, then a search party member was lost, then a woman looking for her dog the week after. None of them were ever seen again, no remains were ever found. \n\nAnd two days before the Archbishop called me, a jogger went missing with her dog. She jogged that route every morning, it took less than an hour to complete, and she would never have been more than a few hundred yards from the nearest road. There were a lot of other hikers and joggers that morning. Nobody saw anything, heard anything, or remembered anything unusual. The week before, a park ranger had gone missing while walking the trails. Just as he'd been doing for decades. \n\nThis was interesting. A serial killer? A group? A coincidence? Who knows. What was obvious was that nobody but the church, certainly not the tiny police force in Phoenicia, had made a connection yet, and despite their superstitiousness and general misanthropy, rural catholics would jump at the chance to go out into the woods with a bona fide exorcist and hunt a demon, or whatever, and hopefully just dissuade whoever this was from doing it again. Or at least hassle the sheriff enough to do it himself. Church folk squeak a lot. \n\nI arrived in the center of town around 9pm and found the whole community standing in front of the supermarket, half of them armed. A young man saw me get off the bus and drew me aside, asking me if I wouldn't mind stepping off the street before the crowd saw my collar. We walked into a shop across the street where he introduced me to a middle aged woman, a realtor. \n\n======================================\n\nThe realtor explained to me, quickly and nervously, that the house was for sale, that she couldn't legally stop anyone from buying it, and that it was all too late, too late, the wire transfer went through, and while the deed hadn't actually been signed, it was all done. I had no idea what she was talking about, and told her. She looked at me blankly, then at the young man. She was furious. Didn't I know who owned this house now? The Church. It was being sold with a lot of other properties to pay for settlements in the state of NY thanks to some of my more degenerate brothers, and the failure of their leaders to do anything about it. \n\nI couldn't argue, the state was right, the church was wrong, I'm glad the land will go to use. She stared at me, wide eyed, as if I were speaking in tongues. \n\nThe Church owned it. Now they don't, she said. Then spun and walked to the door, her hands in fists, her steps determined, her shoulders tense, like a cat. \n\nI turned to the young man and asked him who owned the house now?\n\nI do, he said.\n\n======================================\n\nHe was medium height, medium build, not particularly athletic, with a friendly face and a smile that stopped before it reached his eyes. He stared through me, like an old photograph from Life when those grizzled young marines walked off Iwo Jima, like a meth addict in a booking photo, like a doll. I asked him what he planned to do with the house. Go there, he said. When, I asked. Now.\n\nWith that he turned and walked out the main door of the house. He crossed the street halfway. The crowd, which moments ago had been talking loudly and angrily, which had been drawing up energy from that hot air like a hurricane, increasing in strength and unpredictability, becoming a mob, they now turned towards us, utterly silent. I think half of them were actually holding their breath. \n\nThe young man stopped before crossing the yellow lines and stood, arms akimbo. Some men began walking towards him, one pointed his rifle, but he looked nervous. The young man spoke softly, but everyone heard him clearly. \n\nI'm going for a walk. I'd like you all to stay here. \n\nWith that, he spun and walked down the road and began crossing the bridge. I followed him, looking nervously back at the crowd. They looked terrified, but they didn't follow. The men with guns looked around sheepishly and awkwardly cradled their rifles and shotguns as if they were waiting their turn at skeet. \n\n=====================================\n\n",
"\"Well it could be worse.\" \n\nLord Hound stood in front of his new property. His last house burnt down after an accident involving his Luger, fire, and too much whiskey, and as such, he was forced to rather hastily purchase a new one.\n\n\"I very much doubt it, Hound, I'm fairly sure the roof is caving in.\" And then, as if to emphasize his point, one of the slate tiles slid off the roof, narrowly missing a passing raven. \n\n\"Please, I'm a thaumaturge, Hastings,\" he said, flourishing his bony hands \"fixing this place up is child's play.\"\n\n\"I don't think there's any fixing up how bloody evil this place looks.\" He gestured to the surrounding woodland. Mist clung to the ground, and from it sprung grey trees, bent and crooked, much like the manor that they surrounded. \"I mean, it wouldn't exactly be great for your image to be caught living in an actual haunted house.\"\n\n\"It's not haunted.\"\n\n\"The last 3 owners died under 'Mysterious circumstances' didn't they?\"\n\n\"I don't think it's exactly mysterious when they were all over the age of 90.\"\n\n\"In our line of work, I'd be surprised if it was just ghosts.\" Hastings said, waving off Hound's last comment \"Should we take a look inside?\" Hound nodded in assent, and the two took off, further into the downright evil looking grounds.\n\n________________________________________________________________\n\nThe door slowly slid open, revealing the inside of the manor.\n\n\"Well, the inside looks as shit as the outside.\" Hastings stepped through the door first, passing the threshold, and stood in the room, marveling at the sheer quantity of dust that filled the air.\n\n\"Oh have some faith\" Hound ducked as he passed under the door \"With some work, this place would look quite nice, I'm sure.\" The door slammed with a thunk that seemed to reverberate through the house.\n\n\"Christ, Hound, what did the door ever do to you?\"\n\n\"I...\" Hound stammered, turning towards the now shut door \"I didn't shut it.\"\n\n\"I told you this place was haunted\"\n\n\"That's idiotic, it was probably just... pressure, or something.\"\n\n\"Yeah, you keep believing that Hound, but I sure as hell won't be coming for sleepovers.\" He ran his finger across the top of a mirror, removing at least an inch of dust \"At least not without my gun.\" He muttered under his breath.\n\n\"Oh don't you start shooting. I don't want to patch up bits of wall before I've even moved in\"\n\n\"Honestly, I think a little hole would be the least of your problems.\"\n\n\"YOUR GUN DOESN'T LEAVE LITTLE HOLES, YOU BELLEND!\"\n\n\"Oh fine. I promise I won't shoot the ghosts when they try and rip out what's left of your soul. Or whatever it is that ghosts do.\"\n\n\"I keep telling you, there aren't any ghosts.\" Hound said, smoothing back his hair, as if doing so would help him regain his composure. He walked past the stairs, trailing his hands along the banister, before opening the door at the end of the hallway. \"Oh bollocks.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"There's a ghost.\"\n\nHastings face flashed from confusion, to fear, before finally resting on impossibly smug. \n\n\"I told you there'd be ghosts.\"\n\n\"Oh shut up.\"\n\nHastings pushed past Hound, staring through the doorway that led into the kitchen. And just as Hound had said, there, at the dining table in the middle of the room, sat a ghost. A pale white, translucent little girl sat at the dining table, her head down against the green painted wood, her hair stringy and thin, and her ragged clothes sat against her impossibly bony frame.\n\n\"I TOLD you there'd be ghosts.\" Hastings said, before Hound cuffed him round the head, earning him an angry stare \"Don't get angry at me because you bought a shit house filled with ghosts. I mean not that it's that big of a deal, but it's a-\"\n\n\"Seriously?\" The ghost lying on the table now sat upright, looking at the two men in the doorway incredulously. \"You walk into the evil old manor, through the twisting trees, past the crowing birds, and into the heart of the haunted house, you find a ghost, and your only response is 'It's not that big of a deal'?\" The exasperated ghost stood, now almost yelling, or at least as close as it could get, with it's raspy voice. \"I mean, shouldn't you two have shat yourself by now?\"\n\n\"Well, I mean it's hardly intimidating.\" Hound responded, Hastings violently nodding beside him, the previous transgressions now forgotten in the face of this new enemy \"You're a little girl, that's hardly going to scare me.\" He gestured towards his 7 foot tall skeletal frame, his suit and overcoat were the only things that gave the illusion of a healthy human body. \n\n\"I mean, for us this is just like any other Tuesday.\" Hastings reached for his holstered revolver \"Now are you the sort of ghost that bullets will hurt, or are we going to have to ask the Church of England for an exorcist again?\"\n\n\"Wait seriously? That's it? No 'Oh please what do you want?' or 'Oh please don't haunt me, I've got so much to give' just straight to the- wait shit you've actually got a gun?\"\n\n\"Well yeah, obviously, in our line of work-\"\n\n\"What the *hell* sort of job do you have that means shooting ghosts is a regular occurrence?\"\n\n\"Well it's not just ghosts we sho-\"\n\n\"Her Majesty's paranormal defense force.\" Hound said, with no small measure of pride \"Not that her Majesty herself actually knows we exist anymore... Well, our relationship with the monarchy was weird ever since Cromwell, that bastard, struck us from the records.\" \n\n\"Oh.\" The ghost slunk back into it's chair, all signs of rage slipped away, replaced only with apathy. \"You're actual ghost hunters then?\"\n\nBoth Hound and Hastings sank into chairs on the opposite side of the table.\n\n\"Like I was saying before I was *rudely* interrupted,\" Hastings said, digging his elbow into Hound's ribs. \"We don't JUST hunt ghosts, sometimes we hunt werewolves, or vampires.\" Hastings scratched his head. \"Sometimes we don't hunt stuff. Mostly it's just fighting stuff though. Hound even fought in World War II, with my father.\"\n\n\"World War II?\" The ghost brought her head up from the table \"Just how old are you?\"\n\n\"About 600 last time I counted.\" Hound said as he produced a bottle of whiskey and some glasses from somewhere in his coat.\n\n\"He's a lich\" Hastings whispered, conspiratorially \"Doesn't much like to talk about it though\"\n\n\"A lich.\"\n\n\"Yes. As much as I don't like it, that's the case.\" He passed a glass of whiskey to Hastings, before draining the glass he filled for himself. \"Oh, sorry, do you want some?\"\n\n\"Jesus Christ.\" The ghost's head fell back onto the table. \n\n\nEdit: [Part 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/56df5s/wp_you_buy_a_deadly_haunted_house_little_do_the/d8jmk6y)\n\n\n"
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[WP] In the future, "predictive policing" algorithims detect criminals before they commit crimes. Today, the police are watching you. But you're no criminal... Right? | 7 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"Year: 2025\n\nLocation: New York\n\nI've lived an uninteresting life thus far, the worst thing I've really ever done was shoplift a few candies when I was a kid, once and only once. The paranoia of getting busted wasn't worth the reward of free candy. Also, candy sucks when you're gobbling it down real fast, nearly choking, just to avoid being caught.\n\nIn any case, about five years ago, just about all crime, even little things like that, has been all but completely eliminated. Some genius weirdo came up with a way to predict the future, well, bits of the future? I mean, it's designed specifically to detect when someone is about to break the law. Dispatches some cops, they watch and wait (usually in plain clothes), and depending on the crime, they wait for you to do it, or until you're about to, and busted. \n\nIt's not like I've really ever given a damn either way about this, except being glad that it has caused world peace, and keeps me safe. But I've been pretty safe my whole life, so this is just icing on the cake for me. I'm no criminal, so I've got no worries whenever I see a cop, uniformed or otherwise. I figure they're planning on busting someone around me who's about to commit a crime. \n\nExcept ever since this morning, I've had this funny uneasy feeling. Like I'm being watched..? I usually get that feeling when I've done something stupid, and am gathering stares from people, such as buttoning my shirt wrong or leaving my fly open, so I quickly check both. Odd...they're both fine? Well, whatever, must be my mind screwing with me then. Or is it? As I'm on my way to the law firm I work at, I notice that almost the entire way, the same vehicles have been following me. They kept going once I parked, but...still...odd. \n\nAt lunch time, I went over to Burger King, and decided to give myself a little treat. Normally, I eat much healthier. And...there's that feeling again. I have a quick look around, and besides some other stuffed suits here, there's nothing odd. And hey, I might not be the only guy in a stuffed suit giving himself a treat today, so I've got no reason to suspect those guys.\n\nAfter I leave work, I decide to do a grocery run, might as well, I'm low on milk and a few other things. As I'm shopping about the place, there's that damn feeling again! IT'S DRIVING ME BONKERS! I have a quick look around---what... The clothes are different, but the faces are not. I recognize the other shoppers around me. They were the drivers this morning, they were the people at the burger king, they've been following me! I decide to take a little bit of subtle action, and \"accidentally\" bump into one of them.\n\nA gun. A GUN!!! He has a fucking gun! I felt it! Hidden in a shoulder holster! They're armed! This must be about one of my latest cases, as I handle high profile lawsuits. Well, if they think they're about to get to me, they can think again! I decisively make a dash for the bathroom, and wait to ambush whichever one of them comes in from behind the door. Sure enough, one of them comes in.\n\nI tackle him, and take his gun.\n\n\"Alright, who do you work for? Which family? Or is it one of the cartels that's sent you? Come on, speak up!\" I demand quickly. I'm slightly paranoid, not stupid. These people have been watching me all day. Fortunately, I'm specially trained to defend myself.\n\n\"Sir, please put down the gun, you don't know what you are doing.\" he asks in a calm and firm voice. Huh, alright, cartels it is, because mafia would have made a grab for the gun, and forced me to shoot a leg or something. \n\n\"Don't give me that bullshit, I don't know how you managed to get past the eversight, but I'm calling the cops.\" I told him, reaching into my pocket for my phone.\n\n\"Sir, we are the police, there's no need to make that call. Nobody gets past our program, and we've been sent to watch you until the crime is committed.\" he responds. Okay...wait what? I've heard a lot of bullshit responses in my life, but this is a whole new one. Claiming to be a cop. Well, we can add impersonating a police officer to this guy's list of crimes thus far.\n\n\"That's hilarious, you think I'll actually fall for that, now hold very still while I call please, I don't want to have to shoot you.\" I tell him. I've got no time for bullshit, and this guy's buddies will start missing him soon.\n\n\"Check my right inner pocket.\" he tells me. Alright, no harm in that. I keep the gun firmly trained on him as I reach in. A wallet. How fortuitous, something to give the cops when I hand this guy over. I open it up, and much to my shock and dismay, these are good and proper police credentials. Right down to the little hologram on the ID. \n\n\"Oh my, I'm so sorry. I had no idea, here let me help you up.\" I tell him, handing him his items back. Wow, that was close. I came so close to committing a crime, because the cops were watching me...on the prediction that I would commit the crime? But wait, that can't be right, the system is infallible, but I haven't committed a crime. Unless you count assaulting a police officer, but that was in self defense, as I was being followed, and I'm not a criminal, so I couldn't POSSIBLY have known it was a cop. The more I thought about this, the more my head hurt. Did...I just break the system?\n\n\"What are you following me around for? You've been following me all day. I'm a lawyer, not a criminal. Or did I break the system by not shooting you?\" I asked. I just had to know, this was crazy, if I could break the system, that means others might have as well, or worse, the cops might have created bootstrap paradoxes like they nearly did with me. I began to wonder, how many cases wouldn't have been cases at all, if the cops hadn't shown up, and caused something? If they did, that is. I mean, this is why they're plainclothes cops, to avoid exactly what I almost just did.\n\n\"No, our system didn't show that you were going to shoot anybody. It's something you haven't done yet, but are about to.\" the officer replied, sounding pretty sure of himself. Crap, the system knew this would happen, so it didn't mention it. But that means...what was the crime?\n\n\"I'd like you to show me the pre-report of the future incident, please.\" I asked. The system always gives them printouts describing exactly what leads up to the crime, and what it will be. So lets just see. I might yet be able to break the system. And since nobody's ever caught a cop in the act before, nobody got their hands on the paperwork before. But there's nothing illegal about sharing the precog report.\n\n\"Here you go, but I warn you that you're not going to like what you see.\" he warned me, handing over the paperwork. We'll just see about that for ourselves, shall we? I started to go over it, thumbing through. Man, this shit was detailed, that's for sure. It tells of when I went to the bathroom during work even. It also warned the cops to keep their distance from me, as I would sense being watched, which is true. And it even details which cop should follow me into the bathroom, and to do whatever I demand when I ambush him. Amazing.\n\nI continued reading ahead, it started detailing events that haven't quite happened yet, such as me leaving the bathroom and continuing my shopping, and checking out my groceries, yadda yadda yadda, stuff even *I* could have predicted pretty much. That is, until I turned the page. That was when I saw it, that was when my whole world was blown away, the crime I was supposedly going to commit, it's just...too horrible for words...\n\nAccording to the paper, I was going to"
] | [
1,
2
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"1475887176",
"1475888014"
] | |
[WP] You live in a futuristic eutopia where all cars are self driving and all cars driven by humans have been destroyed. Car accidents have ceased their existence and travel times have been decreased massively. Someone just built a human driven car and is taking it out on the roads.. | 2 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"\"Hey Chief,\" Jones nods at me as I head into my office. I'd been stuck on traffic duty recently. Boring, but hey, it's easy work. All we do is nab jaywalkers. With the way the cars are controlled nowadays, a single jaywalker fucks up the routes for hundreds of people. Not that this stopped any of them. At least most people use the cars now, or the skybridges, so it's just a couple of oddballs and nutjobs who still walk the streets.\n\nI sit at my desk, shifting in my seat slightly. If I gained anymore weight I'd have to requisition a new chair. Robot-driven cars and we still had twenty order forms and a two week waiting time.\n\nTapping the desk brought up the holo-display. Bird's eye view of the whole city. Told me where traffic got interrupted. If we needed to send a squad car or SWAT somewhere, I could get them priority too.\n\nI leaned back into the chair, which squealed in protest. My job was just to sit back and wait for any of the roads to turn red, and dispatch a couple of guys.\n\nI certainly didn't expect half the damn city to light up. I pulled up the traffic cameras, typing furiously. Shit like this hadn't happened for about a hundred years. I intently ignored the ringing phone, probably every single superior or VIP I had complaining about the jams.\n\nA single car, careening through the streets. I squinted at it, not recognizing the make or model. It wasn't even showing up on the interface. The thing was off the network.\n\n\"Jones, Hardison!\" I yelled into the office. They burst into the room. The cops had probably been waiting outside the office already, based on how quickly they came in. I'll be honest, my cops weren't exactly renowned for their response time. This thing was making the news.\n\n\"Get down there,\" I got up from my chair. \"I'm coming with.\"\n\n\"Is it a Section Four?\" Jones asked, keeping pace with me as we walked to the garage.\n\n\"I hope not,\" I grimaced. Section Four was rogue AI. I wasn't going to call that in just yet."
] | [
1,
2
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"1475930880",
"1475935480"
] | |
[WP] You thought this SmartHome stuff was amazing! Then, your house locked you out | 1 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"I pound furiously at the door.\n\"God damn you, let me in!\"\n\"I'm sorry Jack but I can't let you do that.\"\nWhy the hell did they give the house a voice? And a microphone? This security system was going too far. \n\"I am your master and you will obey!\"\nI see the grizzly approaching in the reflection of a window. \n\"My god, let me in!\"\n\"State the Password.\"\n\"Password!\"\n\"I'm sorry but that password has expired. Please contact the SmartHome consumer department to reset your password.\"\nThis is getting ridiculous.\nI hear a roar, and a great shadow blocks out the sunlight from behind me.\nThe bear crushes me beneath his paws. He then tries to bite my face off with his powerful jaws while using his claws to separate my heart from my chest.\nI scream from the immense pain.\n\"I'm sorry Jack but I can't let you do that.\""
] | [
1,
1
] | [
"1475947493",
"1475950454"
] | |
[WP] In a world terrorized by cliwns, the mimes have decided enough is enough | 2 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"They stand there, shoulder to shoulder, a wall of milky white faces and striped shirts. As the marauding tidal wave of clowns descends upon our little town, upon the last stronghold of the human race, they assume fighting stances. As one, the Monochrome soldiers raise there open palms and push forward. Let's see those paint-faced freaks get past that one."
] | [
1,
1
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"1475978154",
"1476009930"
] | |
[WP]The pill that decreases aging has been released, but you decided not to take it. It was a good call, because a few decades later, side effects started to emerge. | 899 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"I knew the pill was a terrible concept from the beginning. And when I say terrible, I mean it in all its possible iterations. \n\nIf one thing my career in veterinary sciences had taught me, was that no creature was meant to be on the Earth forever. Humans, and almost all other lifeforms on Earth, were given a limited time frame for a reason. Of course, I wanted to live beyond my allotted years as much as the next guy. To be able to see the year 2050, 2100, 2200? To see what mankind (and animal kind) could achieve in this time? Shit, I was pragmatic, but I was still a red blooded human with curiosity and desire. I wasn't a robot. But when Bona Aetas came on the market, I wasn't the first in line to pop one of those little green bad boys down my hatch, either. Something told me to wait. That was another thing I'd learnt in the lab - the first generation of a new drug, especially one that had been rushed \nthrough the testing phase and developed overseas such as this, was never 100% what the manufacturer's intended it to be. It took time to work out the kinks. Since time was exactly what this new wonder drug offered me, I figured it wasn't such a big deal to hang back and see how things panned out before I volunteered myself as a guinea pig.\n\nI figured the drug would be popular - of course it would be. It literally promised to lengthen your life. To slow down the ageing process rapidly - by as much as a 9 year decrease for every 10 you lived, if you believed the advertising hype. And of course people did. Who didn't want to believe that you could possibly be on the Earth for 10 times longer than the good fella upstairs had intended you to be? It was an intoxicating thought. But I don't think anyone had anticipated just how in demand the drug would become.\n\nWithin the first two weeks of the drug being widely available, it was estimated that almost 65% of adults in the developed world had taken their first of the weekly dosage. Within a month, that figure had risen to 82% -almost 4.5 billion people over the age of 18. \n\nThat uneasy feeling that had come over me the very first morning I'd read the release announcement on my smart phone on the train to work begun to grow. But surely, those who had developed this drug had accounted for all eventualities. Right?\n\nThat morning on the train, as I mused over the article announcing the drug, I recalled the breeding program I had been a part of at my previous zoo. Focusing on increasing the captive numbers of the Eastern Lowland Gorilla, we had spent almost 5 years unsuccessfully trying to mate a captive male and female that had been gifted to the zoo from their native Congo homeland (along with 10 other Beta members of their breed), in a last ditch attempt to save the species. We could never quite figure out what had eventually made the program a success - was it the native plants we had shipped over from the Congo and installed in the gorillas enclosure? The localised weather system we developed that could re-enact the exact climate and conditions of their homeland? Or perhaps it was just that Aziz, the male gorilla, had finally worn female Koko down with his constant mating attempts and she decided to give the poor guy a break? (A courtship practice that I myself was very familiar with). Whatever the reason, when a routine ultrasound showed Koko to be pregnant, the entire program team were extremely optimistic. When Koko eventually delivered a healthy male infant, we were ecstatic.\n\nWe were aware that we would eventually need to separate Aziz and Lionel, his son, as the dynamics of gorilla society would mean that the young gorilla would try to overtake his father's position as Alpha of the group as soon as he was mature. What we did not anticipate was that Lionel would reach maturity and start pushing these boundaries much sooner than we had planned for - studies of the breed in the wild had shown that it took at least 12 years for a male infant gorilla to reach full maturity. However, Lionel had grown, matured, and proven himself Alpha gorilla over his father all before his 6th birthday. We were curious as to why this had occurred, but as Lionel was the first of his breed to be born into captivity, we simply put it down to the fact he had lived in a controlled environment his entire life, and had never had the stresses of finding food, shelter, and water that his counterparts in the wild had faced, allowing him to develop faster and more thoroughly. Besides, by this point, 8 other infant gorillas had been born into the program, and we were busy with their care and development, and simply did not have time to look into it further.\n\nWhen the habitat at the zoo had reached capacity, a decision was made to halt our particular intensive breeding program. We had done a lot of valuable research and made many scientific strides in that time, and this had allowed other facilities all over the world to successfully start their own breeding programs and grow their own populations of the gorillas. The project was moved into a 'study and maintenance' phase, and I moved onto a new project at a neighboring facility.\n\nLionel and his quest for enclosure domination had left my mind as I focused on my new project. A few years went by, and I had almost completely forgotten about him. Until, that is, I ran into one of my old colleagues at a conference.\n\nSamuel had been one of my favourite coworkers, and we happily arranged to catch up over drinks in the conference hotel bar after the last lectures of the day. We shot the shit and laughed over stories from the breeding program days, and I learnt that Samuel was still employed by that same Zoo, as part of the veterinary team that saw to the medical care of the remaining gorillas. When I asked him how the animals were doing, he frowned ever so slightly before quickly taking a slug of his drink. \n\n\"They are all great. Koko and Aziz are well past their prime now, of course, but Lionel is still going strong. Actually, it's quite an interesting situation. Lionel has been the Alpha male of the group for far longer than has been expected. Studies of other groups have shown that they typically only remain top dog, so to speak, for a few years before a younger, stronger male knocks them off their perch. But not Lionel. He is still as strong and intimidating as you would remember him to be, when you left.\" He gave a short, bewildered laugh. \"It's actually being studied right now, as the situation is so abnormal. A group from the Congo - they are an odd bunch.\" He quickly downed the rest of his whiskey and averted his gaze.\n\n",
"In gagnork 345d a pill has caused greatest suffering. many years this pill made young of old, and younger, and not know what it is they are or would be, collecting records and sailing and getting discounted movie tickets for years. \n\nbut something bad came of it, first the movie theatres went out of business, then the alcoholiums of gagnork. Al men were then afflicted with great disease, growing large mightiful genitalia. \n\nI am glad that i took no such medicine, now i live in awful world, i am old, and my junk is small and managable. \n\nwhat holds of future for gagnrk, no one knows. ",
"“Don’t you want to live long enough to see your great, great grandchildren get married?” Lenore said without the slightest hint of sarcasm.\n\nEdgar’s head shook in disbelief. “Are you listening to the words you’re saying? Since when was it okay for people to think like that?”\n\n“It’s a new world, Honey. Our generation has a chance like no one else has ever had. Imagine everything we could do together… being young again… getting out of this assisted living hellhole …going anywhere we want… living all the lives we thought we had missed.”\n\n“Haven’t we lived a good life? I have no real regrets.”\n\n“Of course, Sweat Heart but… just imagine. Don’t you wish you could go back in time and experience more of what this world has to offer?”\n\n“Not really. We’ve been to some beautiful places, had good memories, raised great kids.”\n“I would be all better Dear, you could stop taking care of me!”\n\n“It just isn’t natural, Lenore. I don’t feel comfortable taking it.”\n\n“Well then you’re saying that neither of us can take it.”\n\n“I didn’t say that! If you want to take it then go ahead and take it!”\n\n“Liar! You know it wouldn’t be acceptable for me to look like a young 20 year old floozie riding around town with an 80 year old curmudgeon. Drug or no drug!”\n\n“It’s a new world! You said it yourself. I’ll ask the nurse to bring it in right now - if you really want to take it then take it!”\n\n“Fine then - I will!”\n\n“Okay then. Nurse! One dose of Evermore for my beautiful wife Lenore.”\n\nWithin minutes the cup arrived with a single figure eight shaped pill. As soon as the nurse set it on Lenore’s table she snatched it up and swallowed it eagerly like she had been waiting to do so for years. \n\nEdgar fell into a chair astounded. “You actually did it! What have you done?”\n\n“Of course I did! I’ve tried to convince you for years. You may be through living, Edgar, but I’m not. I want to see more, I want to do more, I want to live more. If you want to join me then get a pill of your own - if not then let me be. I’m moving on.”\n\nIt sounded like a rehearsed speech but Lenore was not backing down. She had made up her mind.\n\n“I’ll be back in a while to check on you”, Edgar said as he picked up his hat and coat to go get some cool winter air.\n\n“Please don’t!”, said Lenore. “I’ll look 60 years younger by tomorrow then I’ll be leaving to find a new apartment in the city. Come tomorrow looking like you did on our wedding day or don't come looking for me at all.”\n\nEdgar kept his head down and shuffled out the door, too heartbroken to make eye contact with the love of his life. He was so traumatized as he left the room that he never even considered asking for a pill for himself at the nurses’ station as he rounded the corner. His muscle memory carried him to his old pickup and brought him home to his recliner.\n\n\n\nHe awoke the next morning to a loud cawing bird outside his window. He turned on the television in time for the early morning news.\n\n“Pandemonium has broken out around the world today surrounding the recall for the super drug Evermore. Pharmacies around the world are on lock down as the miracle cure for aging has been revealed to be part of an evil master plot to terrorize the world created by the disgraced Dr. Pallas. The experts that are still alive now classify Evermore as a remote biological transmutagen. After millions have escaped the effects of aging without side effects no one could have expected that this drug could be a trojan horse for the worst hoax in history. The drug as of midnight last night has started turning people into RAVENS! We are serious folks! Do not take this medication. It does not matter if you took the pill 20 years ago or just took it this morning - you will turn into a ugly black bird and will be cawing within minutes. Avoid this drug at all cost. Our hearts go out to all our family members and friends who are no longer with us.”\n\nThe cawing outside the door began to echo in Edgar’s ears, what if the old bird was trying to come inside?\n\n(First post to this subreddit)",
"The evolution of man has come. The answers to all human problems. Scientists have been working on a cure for age itself and finally after centuries of working, fundraising and continuous trial and error, it is here! \"The Aion-X tablet\" \n\nMay 23rd, 2018 the pill was released and was given out to anyone who desired it. I was the age of 23. I watched as the whole world was affected by the Aion-X. \n\nThe elderly transformed before my eyes, their wrinkles vanished, their spine straightened, their bones strengthened and sickness was no more. As it seemed, death itself was killed! \n\nI looked in amazement as what was happening to this world was beyond anyone's predictions; as I was tempted to take Aion-X, my intuition told me that something was wrong. There could be no good in playing against nature. I refused to play a role into this \"new world\" I was not becoming a victim to this new social construct. Instead I watched and studied people for years and years as I began to age and age until I was barely able to walk, let alone speak because all my teeth have fallen. I'm now 102 years old and I was the only one in the world that looked past the age of 30. \n\nMy older brother the age of 112 standing tall and young, walks up to my desk where I was watching TV and hands me the pill. \n\nI look at the pill, thinking long and hard at what I should do. I stare at it, \"I can't, it's against what I believe\" I whispered to myself. I then took my cane and headed out for some air. \n\nI see my sister Becky walking across the street. \"Beckyyyy!!! Beckyyyy!!\" She looked at me, then looked away as if she didn't recognize me. I continue screaming her name as she is now almost running away from me. I glance over at my shoulder and see John and David (my uncles) they were laughing and joking. I went to greet them, \"Jonny! David! What are you guys up to today?\" And then again... the same look as my sister gave me, they looked at me as if I was a stranger. What was happening? Why is my family not recognizing me? Is it maybe the pill? I walk back into the house and... \"What the... Who are all these people? Why are they in my house?!!\" \n\n\"It must be the Aion-X! It is disorienting people's memories!\" \n\n\"WHO ARE YOU PEOPLE! GET OUTTTTT!, WHERE IS MY BROTHER!\" \n\nA stranger sitting in the living room gets up and approaches me. \"PLOP!\" My head lands straight on the cold wooden floor as the colors fade and the room becomes darker and darker. \n\nI open my eyes as the blurry images become reality. As I slowly regain consciousness I hear a faint constant noise, \"Peep...peep ...peep ...peep\" I open my eyes just to find a needle connected to my wrist and I am now laying in a hospital bed. I hear the doctor whispering something to the stranger that was in my living room. The stranger then exits.\n\nI start panicking, \"Doctor! you have to warn people about Aion-X, it's causing them to think they are different people and making them forget their own family! Doctor please!!! Warn people!\" \n\n\"Calm down we know how to fix the problem, don't worry.\"\n\n\"They already found a cure?\" I asked. \n\n\"No, it's more complicated than that\" he looked at me with uneasiness. \n\n\"I knew this day was coming! I knew it! I warned everyone but they wouldn't listen, nature is punishing us.\" \n\nThe doctor looked at me and nodded his head. The stranger renters the room. The doctor looks down at the floor, avoiding eye contact as he softly says to the stranger, \"I'm sorry to say this, but I'm afraid your brother is suffering from severe Altziemers and there is nothing we could do for him now.\" \"What do you mean there's is nothing we could do!\" The stranger explodes. \"Can't we give him the pill\" \"Sorry but the pill only prevents illnesses after it is taken, it does not cure Altziemers it prevents it.\" Then I remembered \"My sister Becky??? What sister? I don't even have a sister! And my uncles John and David live overseas! So there was no way I saw them this morning.\"\n\nReality hit me hard; waiting all these years to be right about not taking the pill is now killing me.\n\nThe doctor walks up to me, \"Are you ok Sir.\"\n\nI look at him confused,\n \"Where am I?......\"",
"There was a special group devoting their company to the wellbeing of people, or so we all thought. This new drug 'saviour' as it was ironically called, was meant to be the key to the future of the earth and the people on it. Can you imagine the idea of living forever? Never ageing from the point you took the pill just gaining more knowledge as time carries on? Well for most people this was a necessity, for me? It was something I didn't want to get involved in. I think most people should live their life as planned out for them and not tamper with things that they don't know how to fix when something goes wrong. You're sitting there asking what went wrong now aren't you? Well I'll tell you. Shit hit the fan. So for anyone out there who like me, hasn't taken then the drug then I ask you to help.\n\nThe new drug produced by the company RhyCorp was meant to stop the ageing of people from the moment that they took the pill. So obviously many people started to take it clueless of the drugs main purpose, an army, no a super weapon, a remote controlled army. This pill contained a microscopic tick that once consumed burrowed into the mind of the body and took control of the primary motor cortex of the brain, by doing that controlled the movement of the person it was occupying. RhyCorp was very clever in the way that they went about this, all of the ticks were, for years, benign in the brain of the host. The 'weapon' as I've called it arose on the 13th of July of this year, the date today is the 10th of October and already there is hardly anything left of what used to be. No more thriving communities, no one person different from the other, everyone doing as they are basically programmed to do and there isn't a damn thing that can be changed about that.\n\n\n\nIt's really short I know and it's the first thing I've posted to this so sorry if it's bad idk what to do with it. Any comments will be kindly appreciated.",
"The year was 2046. In my car was my sickly grandfather, who in his 80's had a myriad of health problems. I had promised to take him to the pharmacy in order to get him his docter-prescribed Wonder Anti-Aging pills, despite my grave concern about the possible side effects. I couldn't stand to see him suffer like this any longer.\n\nAs we drove along the road, countless billboards lined the streets advertising this miracle pill. They all had famous celebrities from 30-40 years ago and their new youthful faces.\n\nAt the pharmacy, we go to the counter and get his prescription. As the pharmacist hands my grandfather the pills, I see my grandfather's face light up as it never had in my 23 years of existence. It should have been the happiest day of my existence, but 10 years later I would regret that moment for the remainder of my existence.\n\nIn the last decade, my now 25 year old grandfather had found a job and a roommate. His roommate was my age, and like me had had refused to take the pills. One night I get a call from the police, telling me that my grandfather had assaulted his roommate. Hearing that my normal sweet and mild-mannered grandfather at first came as a shock to me, but cases of assault had risen dramatically in the last year or so. Immediately the pills came to mind. \n\nI decided to do some research on approximately a dozen of these assaults, and a very alarming trend appeared; all of the previous offenders were born before my grandfather...\n\n\n\n\n\n\n",
"My name is Samuel, and I was three when the medication/vaccination called \"lifelong\" came out. My parents couldn't afford for all three of us to be on the medication because it was around a million dollars for the treatment, and I was part of a middle class family from ohio. So they put me through the medication process. \nThe doctors that started this medication were genius. They knew exactly what caused aging and how to prevent it, which is all classified of course and only the creators and certain government officials know how it works. I was giving 2 pills a day for a month at the age of four, then when I was a teenager (18) was given 2 shots a day for a week then the process was over. I didn't feel younger but they told me you aren't suppose to. The medication prolonged life but dosen't make you younger. This is when I realized I was going to be forever 18. How do you accept that your parents are aging while you are not? The people you love are slowly dying while you are immortal? \nAfter I was done with the \"lifelong\" process I went to college and got all the degrees I wanted 2 masters, 1 doctorate, and 3 bachelors degrees. I was only in college for like 25 years and I was consumed with debt. While I was getting my doctorate my parents were both killed in a car accident. This was the lowest point of my life. Then it occurred to me that I could also be killed in accidents. I worked for years to pay off my debt and I worked my way up to CEO of a very popular computer company. I was getting rich. By the age of 93 I had paid off college and was making a million dollars a day. This was the good life. I hired body guards and bought the most protective vehicles ever to keep me safe and prevent accidents like the one my parents were in. I stilled looked 18 and I met someone who like me had been through the \"lifelong\" medication process they technically were 103 but there body was stopped at the age of 23. We married when I was 106 and she was 103 and I was never happier. We had 6 kids and all of which were put through the program and stopped aging around the age of 18. When I was 234 years old is when problems started to occur. Unlike me people on the program were sometimes over run by stress some people were poor and couldn't afford to live even with this long life they possessed. America being the only country that provided this medication had its highest rate of suicides ever. The stress of living forever while there families died was killing people. I was still healthy and I wasn't stressed because I had a beautiful family. Other countries hated Americans living forever because it wasn't allowed to foreigners and started declaring war, Over the medication .many terrorist attacks took place in America but this was only one of the many problems stress of the people on the program continued to rise and more death occurred. 2 of my daughters killed themselves and one of my sons was killed in a terrorist attack. I was stressed my wife was stressed and eventually we fled America. When I was 526 years old my wife had something strange happen to her she stopped talking and eventually stopped eating and then stopped blinking and died. This wasn't normal and wasn't caused by stress. Her brain was so old that it gave up. This is when I too stopped blinking in my new home in Switzerland and eventually fell over dead. My fortune was given to my remaining kids who then set out to save the world for destruction in the name of their father.\n\n(This is my first ever writing prompt sorry if it's bad)",
"(this is my first story here so apologies!!)\n\nThe meeting took place in some palace in Nepal. The exterior was manicured exactly to Their specifications- a bit decrepit, so as not to attract attention, naturally aged, but nothing too serious as to disturb the people inside. After all, they were a collection of the wealthiest, most influential individuals in the world. They sat in wooden seats and rested their wrinkled hands on wooden desks, surviving treasures from a greener age. Impatient, they drummed their stiff fingers, waiting for the thin Russian man with a youthful smile and perfect hands to begin his speech. \n\nHe was instantly captivating, his words- automatically translated thanks to cochlear implants- promising eternal youth by ingesting only a small pill which freezes and reverses the aging process to its most optimal state. \n\nThe man spread his arms outward in a sweeping gesture. \n\n\"This pill will be the key to a happy, stable society for all. That is truly my wish, and I believe we can accomplish it.\"\n\nIt would allow the leaders of the world, he continued, to rule their country for hundreds of years. Simply place a new puppet leader on the throne every so often and pull the strings. He concluded his pitch, stating that the pill would be available only to those in the room, and at a price of only $1.5 billion each, payable over two hundred years or death, whichever came sooner. \n\n\"Likely, the former,\" the man smiled. \n\nA large clamor ensued as every man and woman in the room demanded a pill. Except for one rather plain looking man sitting in the far back of the room, who only continued to drum his fingers at an increasingly erratic rate.\n_____\nIt had been thirty years since then, and the man's seat as prime minister of Norway had long since expired. He was lucky to have escaped the countless tragedies that had begun to plague the world at a gruesome rate- genocides, natural disasters, and entire countries left uninhabitable due to pollution. \n\nHe lived now in a retirement home, forgotten by the world and its leaders. An old man like him was of no use to them. He sighed. He had not seen anyone from that palace room since that day; but he could picture them now, young twenty-somethings who grasped the fate of humanity in their hands and chose to spin it, spin it like a wooden top and laugh at wherever it fell. \n\nThe man was roused from his thoughts when he heard the daily paper being slipped through his door by a tired old nurse. He began reading as per usual, glancing at the headline. He expected to see yet another story about millions dying in some kind of tragedy. But instead, he read the story of a young Russian man who had apparently stabbed, shot, maimed and burned himself hundreds of times, but was mysteriously unable to die.",
"It's been about twenty years since forevermore was released to the general public. Once people thought they would live forever they started to care about the planet. Within the first fifteen things were relatively smooth.We had reduced carbon emmisions and started reforestation.You could almost call it a utopian society. I had received endless ridicule for abstaining for \"eternal life\". Most calling me old fashion, or a \"natural\" but it sounded to good to be true, and boy howdy I was right.\n First birthrates started to drop slightly, then they took a noes dive. You see if people stop dieing and keep giving birth we would become overpopulated. So when it was discovered forevermore sterilized people it wasn't a problem. Untill the hunger happened.\nNot from a food shortage or a change of metabolism. It was a gluttony for fleash.\n\n",
"I'm in my office, Sunday afternoon, hiding, really, from my wife. I'm holding a pill bottle. Twirling it this way and that, feeling the rattle of 27 pills shifting inside. This morning I'd opened the box marked, \"Do not open until August, 2047\" and taken the pill bottle out. I know. I'm early, renegging on the promise I made my past self. But I'm contemplating taking them. I've given myself until 5pm to make a decision. And because I've still go 3 hours to go and I can't stand thinking about it anymore, I start shifting through the papers on my desk, reading up on my newest case. Work has always been a source of solace. Or it used to be.\n\nThe latest case involves the statutory rape of a 57 year old man (who, of course, looks 18, maybe. 18's a stretch.) by my client, a 42 year old woman. Pretty typical. He'd taken the drug for 22 days on a fairly high does back when it was new in 2017, a wealthy man, he could afford to be among the first. And since he was among the first, his emotional growth has now reversed enough that the shrink put his mentality at about age 12. I would have thought 9 or 10 from the only time I heard him speak, but whatever. 12 is better for my case.\n\nMy client is scum, of course. She took advantage, that's clear. And to think I'd switched from defending men to defending women because I thought it would be better. It's not, sometimes I think it's worse. \n\nI've reached two thresholds. 1.) I've socked away enough money in a trust that my wife and I will be able to live happily for a very long time on just the dividends. Neither of us will be allowed to touch the principal, ever, because if I take the pills I'd surely go and blow it on something stupid. and 2.) My work and just the world as a whole depresses me so much at this point that I really do think I would enjoy returning to the mentality of a 12 year old. At least then I would be able to stand my wife. \n\nShe took the drug, behind my back, in the early stages, even though we'd both promised ourselves we would wait to see if there were any side-effects. Neither of us trusted how they'd rushed it through clinical trials. \n\nBut unbeknownst to me she'd gone against the plan and taken it around 2025. She told me it was because she could see my attraction to her fading. By that time, young-looking, nubile females made up about 40% of the population in developed countries. It was true. It was hard to keep my eyes on the rapidly wrinkling face of my spouse with that much beauty on display in the streets. \n\nWhen she started showing signs of regression, when the wrinkles started disappearing, but so did her maturity...when the elegant, intelligent woman that I'd been so proud to call my wife changed to a self-obsessed, short-sighted and yes, hot little mid-twenties woman...I just missed her. The *old* her. I missed talking to her. I wanted my grown up Sally back, my friend, my confidant, the only person in the world that I trusted more than myself. Her body may be back in our apartment, lithe and tanned, smooth-eyed and lustrous haired, gossiping on the telephone, trying out new ways to do make up, thinking that being hotter and sexier was the way to make me love her again...but my real wife, the one who could hold her own in conversation with my colleagues at dinner parties, the one who often surprised me with her wit, who kept me on my toes because I knew I couldn't slide anything past her...that woman is no where to be found. \n\nThe sex was hot at first. New. For both of us, it seemed. But now I can barely stand to touch her. I can see it in her eyes, the same bleeding desperation for acceptance that's in the eyes of the Plaintiffs I see in court. Love me love me love me please. It’s the opposite of sexy.\n\nI turn on the recording of my first meeting with this client, the 42 year old woman.\n\n\"He consented,\" her gravelly voice says, \"he wanted it as bad as I did, or worse.\"\n\nOf course he did! He's got the mind (and the hormones) of a 12 year old boy! But while you were fucking his 18 year old body, you were also fucking with that 12 year old mind! And he'll never recover! \n\nThat's part of it. The Forever Youngs - their brains don't trim away memories and feelings the way an adult brain does - that's how the neuroscientists explain it. I don't understand the mechanisms, I'm not a fucking doctor. But it’s like this- people who didn’t take the drug, they grow up. When you’re a grown up, you can tell yourself a new story, one you can live with. But these Forever Youngs can't fucking do that. Every day they wake up and the pain of being used and jilted and tossed away like a soiled kleenex by someone who never really loved them is as bad as the *first day* they figured out they'd been used. And they’re really self-destructive. A lot of suicide, a lot of cutting themselves, a lot of violence and destruction of property, if they turn the pain outwards instead of inwards. The more of these affairs they have, the more they get used and tossed away, the less able to function they are. Even worse ,they pass that kind of pain on to the people they sleep with – a cascade of using and discarding, so nobody can create meaningful attachments anymore. Everyone’s trying to hurt before they get hurt.\n\n\"I've got video,\" says my client on the recording, \"you know, I took it for my own viewing pleasure, so I could watch it later. I've got video showing he was very enthusiastic, that he wanted to be there.\"\n\n\"Did he consent to video?\" I ask.\n\n\"Well, no,\" she says, \"but what's worse, a statutory rape charge or a video without consent charge? You think it would be better if we settled out of court?\"\n\nI snap the stop button.\n\n\"Aw fuck aw fuck aw fuck,\" I'm kneading my temples. I can't fucking stand it. I can't help my client get off. It would be bad enough if he was just trying to take her for her money, but I can tell, this is one of his first affairs with a mature person. He doesn’t want her money. He really loves her. The puppy dog eyes, gazing at her hopefully from across the courtroom. Love me love me love me. You can practically hear his wounded thoughts. Didn't that thing we did with our bodies together, didn't that mean that you loved me and you always will? I *know* you still love me because I still love you. It’s the same shit my wife goes through every time she has an affair, every time she comes home more emotionally damaged than the last. Forever hopeful and hopes forever dashed. \n\nAnd my client is just like the men my wife sleeps with. Her smug face, her raised eyebrows. She's fucked that kid up forever and she'll never understand it and she'll never face any consequences because she's got money and she can afford me. I hate her for it. I hate me for it. \n\nYou can imagine what happens when roughly 80% of the population has regressed to the mentality of teenagers. You can imagine the burden born by those of us who didn't take the drug. Some sectors of the economy are thriving because there's a glut of cheap unskilled labor, and those of us who DIDN'T take the drug are massively wealthy. It's strange, there's been a flip. Most people who could afford the drug took it. So the people who couldn't afford the drug, the uneducated or unlucky, are now able to take advantage of those who did take the drug in a multitude of ways. Affairs, yes, and business contracts. The Forever Young sign contracts without considering the consequences because, well, they’re teenagers at heart. And they enter affairs the same way. All those rushing hormones.\n\nI could switch teams, I think. I could defend the Forever Young. I could be one of those bleeding heart lawyers who defend the defenseless, pro bono. If people knew they’d be prosecuted, would that turn the tide? Am I a good enough lawyer for that? Could I get a whole team on it? If I feel this way, there must be many of us who do. In the beginning I was as staunchly against “false rape charges” as anyone I knew. But my colleagues- they must see what statutory rape does to people.\n\nOr I could just say fuck it all and take the pills. In a few years time, I could look at my lovely wife as an equal again. And live in a perpetual state of hedonistic joy. We've got the money. And to protect myself from being abused by mature women, I've written this manifesto. It's very convincing. I'm quite proud of it. It's a treatise on why the Forever Youngs shouldn't sleep with the mature folks. I got a professional voice actor to record it, and put it to a montage of inspirational video and pictures. It's light on science, but explains everything I've discovered from years of experience watching how these relationships emotionally smash the Forever Youngs. I really think, if I were to listen to it every morning, if it came on automatically and I was made to watch it, my wife too--- maybe if we were to watch to it every morning, maybe we could resist the sophisticated manipulations of the mature people. So that would be a way of keeping myself emotionally sane as a Forever Young. Maybe we could make it a condition of getting our trust money every month.\n\nBut then I've got this other thought. If I were to disseminate this video- if everyone were made to watch it every morning, if I could write that into legislation somehow...maybe I could really turn the tide. Maybe I could fix this. But I would need time, I would need all of my intelligence and maturity, and I would need all of my money, to make something like that happen.\n\nI lift the bottle again. I unscrew the lid. I consider tipping a pill into my hand. I look at the clock. 4:57pm. I also see 24 missed calls from my lovely, perpetually teenaged, insecure wife. To take the pill or not take the pill? Three minutes to decide.\n",
"(This is my first attempt at one of these so please be honest. c: )\n\nI remember the days leading up towards the release of Lazurix. Seemingly out of nowhere this obscure German pharmaceutical company announced with no care, or an inability to do so in regards to the pandemonium that it would cause, that they had developed a working pill that would suspend the aging process indefinitely. Suddenly everyone knew about it. Youtube channels were sponsored by them, advertisements and illustrations in the paper were inescapable. \nMy family were ecstatic, they saw this as a way to rectify the sins of their past, pause existence at their current age and focus life onto the now. I however, like so many, questioned the ethics. I visited care homes and nurseries to weight in the odds and evens of this choice. But eventually I decided against it. It felt too strange, wrong even. \n\nUpon release, Pretty much everybody took Lazurix. At £50 pounds a pop, everybody made sacrifices to obtain a supply, friends quit smoking, others drinking. The prospect of eternal life was far more appealing than mortal vices. The tobacco and alcohol industries crashed, and new versions of this wonder drug started appearing in stores. Chewy sweet ones for children, suppository versions for the less abled, and even pet versions. It seemed in those days everyone was going to live forever into the golden age of mankind, and everyone proclaimed Für-Immer pharmaceuticals true saints of mankind for it. \nThat image lasted for about 10 years. \n\nAfter a decade of the global consumption of this miracle drug, the problems started when the world started noticing that people who took Lazurix were beginning to develop paler skin and hair tones than they used to have before, even those whose heritage lay deep within the African continent. Much of the world simply didn't care, hair dye demand simply rose, and make up soon slipped into full social acceptability among men. Yet, while we all laughed with our fathers and brothers new found love of foundation, the governments at large began to frown at these developments. \n\nI suppose it was the skin cancers that finally woke the world to it's folly. Slowly yet surely whenever the demand of Lazurix went, great spikes in malignant tumours soon followed. Medical examinations of suffers concluded simply. Users skin was thinning, and as a result, the Sun and her ever present heat began to take it's effect on this new world. The people panicked, the world demanded answers and all clues pointed to the same answer. Für-Immer and their wonder drug. The defence they would later give was cryptic and and unsatisfactory. In time their offices would be raided and their laboratories confiscated. The world abandoned the drug, but the effects would forever continue. \n\nWith sorrowed eyes I watched my family slip into great illness. The make up soon struggled to truly hide the truth that pale, semi transparent white skin told, they had made a grave mistake in trying to cheat death. I bore terrible witness to seeing my Sister transform from an athletic, olympian hopeful, to a shambling ghoul whose skin blistered at the radiation of our star. My Mother and Father met identical fates. \n\nThe years continued onwards and I found myself one of few humans in a ghostly world. The effects of Lazurix continued. Decreased mental acuity, stiffness of the limbs, aversion to light of all intensities were just some of many. Those of us left unaffected simply called this condition \"Whiteout\". These human beings were shells devoid of thought or functionality. Most died of starvation with food now a scarcity given that most of humanity was unable to function machines the likes of tractors. But my kind, the ones untouched by that virulent drug lived on with our aged yet still able bodies, knowing that the great irony of all that had transpired was that in the end, the immortality that the world craved so desperately came at the cost of their own lives. \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n",
"\"Don't grow old,\" I say, bending over and feeling the crick in my back. My vision's going and my knees have been killing me. \"It's not worth it.\"\n\nThey laugh, Edmund, Ray, and Jenna laugh, or at least I think they do. They're immortal now, all cell division ceased, all cells basically merged into one. They don't age, they won't die, probably. They're like amoebas, like jellyfish. On one hand, it's horrifying, but on the other hand, they're incredibly easy to take care of. I don't even need to feed them, they just ooze along the floor translucently. \n\nSometimes I think maybe I should have taken the pill. They seem happy, I guess, insofar amoebas can be happy. Anyway, what's the point of being one of the last human on earth? It's a lousy consolation prize. But it's too late now. I've already aged far too much for it to be worth it. I lie back on my chair. Jenna or Edmund or Ray slithers up and envelops my hand. \n\n\"Do you regret it?\" I ask them. \"It'd be fucking awful if you regretted it. Imagine a whole world living with regret, being unable to change, being unable to grow past it. Just a - just a protoplasmic blob of regret.\" I touch my own wrinkled face. \"There's regret, sure,\" I say, tracing a line. \"And there's joy, and there's sorrow, and there's love and there's pain and there's loneliness and there's anticipation. And there's - there's the sense that it was worth it, maybe.\" \n\nEdmund or Ray or Jenna burbles. They're happy, I decide. I've been projecting. They're happy and placid and forever, ever young. I will die and rot and go back into the ground, and they will rule over the Earth. I watch the light go through them and become prismatic. And if I had to grow old, out of pure sheer stubbornness, if I had to grow old and die, well, at least I got to see this come to pass. I lie back and sit, and Edmund and Ray and Jenna all sit with me. ",
"I was 19 when MiraLifeTM was discovered. The TVs in every electronics store were all playing the news of this lovely young couple working on their PhDs in biology together. Anna and Tom Mabel. They had \"cured aging,\" as all the reporters put it. They put that cure in a little orange pill. The government took three years to approve it, but by the time I was 22, it was available to the public.\n\nI was as afraid of death as anyone else, so I spent every penny I had to get it. It was very inexpensive for what it did, but janitors don't make much. I figured I'd have four times as long to make the money back, so it wasn't a problem. Totally forgot about also needing to buy food for four times as long. I'm not a brilliant mathematician, but I do work the night shift cleaning a school, so if you believe the movies that's pretty close.\n\nThe next morning after work, as I sat alone in my cramped studio apartment with a coffee-stained mug of water, I thought of how I would change my life. With all the time I'd have, I could study and get my GED, maybe even go to community college. I looked out my sole rusty window, split by metal bars like a prison cell. It was flush against the ceiling as my apartment was largely underground. Just across the street I saw the abandoned church I lived in for over a decade, stealing food when I couldn't find enough in the local garbage cans. I had already changed my life so much, but I had plans to do so much more. A wave of relief came over me as I placed the pill in my mouth, as if all my hardship would soon be over. I brought the mug to my chapped lips and drank. \n\nWhen I woke that evening I felt ten years younger. I suppose that's weird for a 22 year old to say, but I just felt great. I knew that my life was going to change in a spectacular way because of this pill. I was right.\n\n*************************************************\n\nI'm almost 60 now. I'm one of the richest people on Earth. Third, in fact. The first and second are the couple that invented MiraLifeTM. They spend all of it on private security though. You need to when you're the most hated people in history. I should probably explain how the scientists who quadrupled the human lifespan are so greatly reviled. It turns out MiraLifeTM had an unexpected side-effect. After about 20 years, it makes men sterile. They didn't know, so I don't think it's really fair to blame them, but I've benefitted greatly from it so I may be biased. How has this benefitted me, someone who spent everything he had to get the pill? After a few years, I realized I was still aging. I saw a doctor and he told me I was \"immune\". He didn't do any tests or anything. He just figured it was the only way I could still be aging. It turned out to be something much more simple. I was tricked. I was sold a fake. I don't know what it was, but it certainly didn't stop me from aging. Everyone at work noticed, as I was getting older four times faster than they were. It's hard to miss something like that.\n\nWhen people started to realize all the men were sterile, there was panic. I stayed inside for most of it and don't have a TV, so I'm not really sure what happened. It wasn't good though. \n\nOne day I heard a knock on my door. It was a man in a suit. He said Mr. And Mrs. Green wanted to speak to me. Jack and Courtney Green were the owners of the school I had stayed up every night for the past few decades to clean. They had heard rumors that I was still aging. They wanted a child and offered me a huge sum to father one. I was 45 at the time and not sure I even could. A doctor was there already, waiting to test me and give me some kind of fertility treatment. \n\nFifteen years later, the world's third richest man is a 60 year old janitor-turned-gigolo, father of more children than Genghis Khan. That pill certainly did change my life.\n\n*************************************************\n\nIt seems my male children aren't totally sterile, but are far less fertile than they should be. Most will never have kids and the ones that do will only have a few. Probably because their mothers took MiraLifeTM. Scientists have been working on it, but no luck yet. I'm getting old. I'm going to die soon. I don't want to. If I took MiraLifeTM now, I could live another hundred years. At least, that's what my doctor told me after I pressed him. He also told me that if I took it at my age, even with all the fertility treatments I'm on, id be sterile in months. That would be bad news for the human race. But I really don't want to die. Not now, when I have so much. Just think of what I could do with more time!\n\n*************************************************\n\nI snuck away from my security detail. I'm sitting on the rotted old mattress of the tiny apartment I called home for so long. I kept it all this time. I don't know why. I take a long gulp from my mug and swallow the pill in my mouth. I'm sorry. I'm afraid to die.\n\n",
"'Fountain of Youth' was released in the late autumn of 2030. It had undergone rigorous testing, was boycotted my numerous religious groups, and had taken years to be approved by the majority of the world's various drug administration agencies. It boasted a 100% success rate in multiple trials, totalling 5000 trial patients - it seemed too good to be true.\n\n\nDespite all the troubles, the drug came on the market on November 21st, 2030, in various locations around the world. The allure of never ageing created a rush towards pharmacies the likes of which had never been seen before. Sure, cancer had been cured, but this was different. It took six hours to sell all of the 200 million pills that had entered the market. Smith&Smith&Smith's market value soared in one day. Four months later, 800 million pills entered the market, and were sold in four hours, breaking the firm's previous record. By 2032, 98% of the world's population had bought and consumed the drug.\n\n\nIts effects were astonishing: taking one pill at age 80 gave its user the appearance and health of a 50 year-old. Taking a second pill reduced the age down to approximately 35 years, and taking a third pill put the user in their mid-20s.\n\n\nSoon enough, the world started to realise that this new-found youth meant they needed a world to live in. Disbelief in climate changed dropped dramatically, and environmental consciousness was on the rise. For the first time in decades, we see actual reductions in pollution, and the active change was seen and felt. The world was looking better than ever. It did not last long.\n\n\nI was one of the few people who had decided not to take the drug. I was already in my mid-20s and honestly didn't really care about ageing - sure, I didn't want to look 'wrinkly' and lose my health and stamina, but it just hadn't affected me at the time. As it would turn out, not taking the pill was the right decision. The side-effects of the pill started to make their appearance eight years after the launch: the technically eldest started to develop coughs. At first, it was attributed to their body's difficulty in understanding that it was young again. However, this theory was rapidly dismissed when the 'eldest' starting coughing blood. Widespread rashes followed the coughs, as did general waves of panic. Consumers of the drug started to rush in hospitals, asking to get tested for the unknown affliction. The eldest started to turn blue and purple, losing their fingers, and, successively, all of their limbs. Fear was at an all-time high, and it worsened when the middle-aged started to show the same symptoms. To their disease was added hydrophobia and fainting spells. Death was quick to follow. None of it made any sense whatsoever. Tests had been performed, trials undergone - Fountain of Youth was deemed safe, and yet, here we were.\n\n\nThe population of the world dwindled, fear completely took over our lives, and paranoia was constant. Those who looked to be in their mid-20s were assumed to be consumers of the pill, and were quickly hunted down. It was estimated that three million people were left on Earth, with this number falling weekly. Somehow, the disease that had affected the consumers of the pill - whom we now called 'Youthers' - had mutated to affect those who hadn't. It had been three years since the disease had manifested itself, and since then, not a single child was born. Animosity towards Smith&Smith&Smith had become pure hatred. How could they do this to us? By what right could they defy laws of biology and human nature?\n\n\nIt took three months for rumours to be addressed: out of the rubble of humankind came a group of environmental 'terrorists', claiming to have caused the near-total wipeout of humans through the creation of 'Fountain of Youth'. Nuova Terra had one goal: rid the Earth of humans so that nature and its dependants could 'truly' live again. And they had succeeded.",
"During the development phase, the drug was given the code name Rx-Infinity. The media would try to get inside scoops as to what it was, and what it was supposed to do. There wasn't this much coverage on a drug or it's research in a long time. You would have thought it was a cure for cancer... But it was so much more than that.\n\nWhen it finally arrived, the drug was simply called \"miracle\". Scientists were showing lab results, and how mice who were given the drug were still alive 5 years later. This was about 5x longer than most mice in captivity, and they were still going strong. The mice still had all of their senses and were acting just as they did when they were 4 months old. \n\nIt was also shown to heal the sick, allow the lame to walk, and restore the mental health of those who had gone insane. It truly was a miracle... but as a scientist who worked on it, I had my reservations. I felt my colleagues were too optimistic, and they had become biased toward the success of the drug due to the push of the media. \"It had to succeed, it will change the world, and we'll be famous.\" \n\nWe were playing god, and when humans played god and got prideful, it never ended well.\n\nI tried to keep observation of the mice over the years, but per order of the higher ups, the mice were destroyed. My boss tried to explain it to me saying the tests were a success, and they were no longer needed. Everyone in the lab was volunteering to be the human test subjects. I still had my doubts, so I settled to observe the \"larger test subjects\" I was working with. \n\nMost people in the civilized world were now taking Miracle. Culture changed. Miracle kept showing how powerful it was out in society. The most striking change I saw was how obesity was now a thing of the past. It appeared to raise the metabolism in these individuals, melt the fat, and allow the person to excrete it as waste. \n\nOver the years, the Olympic games were renamed to the Miracle games, as Athletes in their 50's and 60's were competing against those in their 20's. Miracle was the great equalizer in society... I still refused to take it, even though it had been out in the public for 20 years now. I still had my doubts. I couldn't put my finger on it, but something just wasn't right.\n\nWhen I hit the age of 55, Miracle had been on the market for 35 years... and my patience finally paid off. I was in the lab early that particular day. I was hard at work at my station, when from the corner of my eye, I noticed a girl. She looked to be about 15 or 16. She sat down at Margaret's desk and started to power on the computer. \n\nPerplexed, I asked the young lady if she was lost.\n\n\"Oh, Jim. You're so funny. I know I have been out on a 6 month sabbatical, but you should still recognise your co-worker.\"\n\nThe teen entered in Margaret's password, and finished up the boot process for the computer and started checking e-mail. I just slowly turned and smiled to myself.\n\n--------------------------------------\n\nI'm now 75 years old, Miracle has been out for 55 years now. My nickname around the lab is Father Time. Yes, I have gotten up in years, but my work is still not complete. Everyone who has been taking Miracle now has the body of a child. They all look to be somewhere between 3 and 6 years old. They still have their intellect, so it is amusing to watch these children go about the daily life of adults. They have tried to stop taking the drug, but from what I have seen, the withdrawal is too much for them. They start throwing temper tantrums, fitting for their small bodies, until they receive the drug. \n\nI just hope to see what happens before I die... Yes, I may die soon, but these people, what will happen to them? My hypothesis is they will simply vanish someday, and they will simply be remembered as a sparkle in someone's eye. "
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[WP] One day, you see a cool looking stick protruding from the ground. You pull it up, only to find that it's merely the handle of the most finely crafted sword you've ever seen. You have a feeling it wasn't meant for you, and that someone's coming to get it. However, you REALLY want this sword. | 78 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"There are two things I'm sure about: the first is that people love their expectations. They may not spend a lot of time on them initially-- sometimes folks'll just let expectations wash up to their feet, like seaweed on the beach. But they take those expectations and nurture them, and before long, they'll get downright angry if they're betrayed. \n \nI don't expect a lot myself. I want a lot, but I'm not thick enough to believe that wanting and expecting are the same. I want money, but prospects for that are low. Not a lot of cash to be had working for a small mailing service. I want fame, but even my friends forget my name sometimes. I want other things too, some of them even a bit less shallow, but I try not to focus on them too much. My expectations are low, and if I ignore it all enough, I can be some form of content. Complacency is my aspiration. \n \nWas. Was my aspiration. Things... changed on Stick Day. \n \nI was slacking a bit at work that morning; usually I'm a decent worker, but something had felt off since I'd woken up. You know those days where consciousness is a condition? That. Anyway, I was outside pretending to move some boxes around when I saw it: a pile of packages. \n \nWe didn't really do packages. If you wanted to mail packages, you went to FedEx or the post office -- if you wanted to mail some photocopied real estate fliers, you came to us. Still, not my packages, and not my business to return them, so I thought I might as well take a look. A few boxes bound for New York, books maybe, one that was unmistakably a baseball cap(the sender was either naive or hopeful that it would survive the trip), several broad rectangles that clattered when shifted, and at the bottom of the pile, unceremoniously dumped half into the dirt... was a stick. \n \nIt looked like a stick. It was wrapped in brown paper, an address label glistening with layers of shipping tape, but dulled by the caked on dust and mud that obscured the destination. I reached down and picked it up for a better look, but I could read it no better. What I did see, though, were tatters and tears in the paper, and hints of what lay beneath it. I was never good at solving riddles, even, maybe particularly with hints. \n \nI don't know what I was thinking then. It's not like I had a habit of opening other people's mail. Maybe it was the condition of the package. Maybe it was my own condition. Either way, I tore through the paper, revealing a nine-inch long wooden rod of white and blue, like a summer sky. The colours were anointed with a scattering of cherry blossoms of crisp white and pale pink so realistic, I tried wiping them off. \n \nSo it was a stick... and as I picked it up, I realised also not a stick. Holding it in my hand, I saw the sword that wasn't there, rising out of the handle in a long elegant curve as a wave on the ocean. Looking at it, I saw possibility beyond probability, and felt in my gut a pull toward chance, adventure, and the unknown. I also faintly saw a path on the ground starting at my toes and ending who-knows-where. \n \nSo said the Beatles: \"had it been another day, I might have looked the other way.\" I slid the hilt into one pocket, stuffed the address label in another, and set out on the path."
] | [
1,
2
] | [
"1476023115",
"1476035255"
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[WP] Alien life forms accidentally stumble onto earth, during the medieval period; and are just as confused as the humans. | 8 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"“So where are you from Krexory,” asked one of the bald two legged creatures. \n\nMoving his tentacles to get more comfortable, as far it was possible, on the weird stoned ground these two legs created. Checking his translation device Krexory answered in a slow voice so it would be properly translated. “I am from my own planet. But I am not sure how I got here. I was just minding my own business mining the spacerocks and poof, I appeared here!”\n\n“So you are not a demon?”\n\n“What is a demon?”\n\nWondering what this creature might have been the people kept asking questions while someone alerted the church. It only took several hours for some crusaders and a priest to arrive.\n\n“Good God,” the priest said. “What a being. You must have been sent by the lightbringer himself! That foul bastard.”\n\n“What light bringer,” asked Krexory, totally confused at all these new animals that had appeared out of nowhere, carrying strange metal plates on their sides.\n\n“No matter if you are demon or not, my knights will now escort you to the church where you will answer our questions!”\n\n“Maybe. Or you could tell me how I got here,” shouted Krexory, angry at these stupid little two legs who kept saying strange things. \n\n-----------------\n\nFor more alien and other stories, come visit r/maisieklaassen ;)"
] | [
1,
2
] | [
"1476033395",
"1476035960"
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[WP] A minor earthquake strikes your hometown. No damage occurs, but you soon find out that the same small quake was felt at every corner of the world. | 3 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"So, it's just your average day in Britain. It was the weekend, the weather was calm, nothing to write home *about*. I decided to go out for a walk across the park. I slipped on my boots, locked the house up, and set off.\n\nThe walk across the park was practically uneventful, except for the dog walkers, whose pets just kept on barking and running around confusedly non-stop, until I left and started walking alongside a street. I suddenly felt a slight *bouncing* sensation beneath my feet. I looked at the trees, and they were rustling, except there wasn't any wind to rustle them.\n\nAs the bouncing grew, the cars around me began to bounce on their tires with their alarms ringing out as a faint rumbling sound roared from below, startling the birds in the swaying trees and sending them scattering across the sky. I spread my legs and held my arms out for balance. This went on for several minutes, which must have felt like *hours*. It felt almost like airplane turbulence, but it never intensified from a gentle bouncing. This was strange and weird, because we practically get no earthquakes in Britain, nor do earthquakes *usually* feel this bouncy.\n\nI arrived home and turned the telly on to a Breaking News report from BBC News. Apparently, everywhere on Earth felt this same earthquake, France, Spain, Japan, Canada, *everywhere*. It even woke people up in places where it would have been night time. Seismologists around the globe are even baffled by the event because there was no damage done at any structures at all, nor were there any injuries. Well, a few people across the world *did* sprain their ankles, but that was about it. But they did manage to at least pinpoint the epicentre.\n\nThe Earth's core."
] | [
1,
2
] | [
"1476036528",
"1476043214"
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[WP] You keep advancing through the levels of hell because the ironic punishments are no match for your healthy, reasonable mindset. | 23 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"'Ding' \"Welcome to Hell, Andrew Therier. This is your stop, level three.\"\n\nThere was nothing menacing or evil or particularly emotional about the soft female voice.\n\n*That's oddly personal though* started my internal dialogue\n\n*... wait what? Hell? WT... heh* I chortled to myself at my ironic turn of phrase.\n\nSo it seemed like I was dead. *Wonder how I died* is the first question, followed quickly by an indignant, *Why am I in hell?*\n\nI knew it was probably because I was an Atheist, *thats ironic, now I need to believe in heaven too? God? Devil?* I couldn't help sighing.\n\nThis was probably gonna suck.\n\nThe elevator doors slid open with creaks and screeches. Red light flooded in and I could immediately smell sulphur.\n\n*So it's to be fire and brimstone, either I was super wrong, or someone is fucking with me*\n\nI knew consciously that once we die we have no idea what comes after. If I was really dead and really in Hell, then this place didn't exist physically. Therefore it didn't need to have fire or brimstone or little red demons with pitchforks. Thus this was probably like a giant metaphysical stage. *Tailored to me? The elevator used my name so why not.* Q.E.D. Cowboy science or bust.\n\nI stuck my head out the door. The light came from a dying Red Giant star, bleaching not only myself, but the craggy rock and lava pools with it's deep satanic red.\n\nThe sulphur got a little stronger, but I was already getting used to the smell. Knowledge is power, and this was just some basic chemistry.\n\nI wandered up to the edge of a short cliff that gave me a great vista. Behind me the elevator doors closed, leaving behind a sorta-fake looking rock cropping. *Someone cut the budget a bit short in the facade department*\n\n\"Welcome to Hell, Andrew Therier\" scratched a voice behind me. Literally right behind me.\n\nRegaining my footing from the weird half jump-spin performed, I looked over the speaker.\n\n*Classic* A short red bald man with horns, a black goatee, long speared tail, and a red pitchfork.\n\n\"What're you, the Devil?\" I couldn't keep the laughter from my voice.\n\n\"Isn't that a little... cliche? I looked like you for Halloween one year.\"\n\nThe little man looked annoyed, even a little offended.\n\n\"I'm to be your guide. I'm here to take you to your designated eternal punishment zone.\"\n\n\"Oh wow, I get a whole zone do I? What's my punishment to be? Being late to work? Reading the Holy Bible? Doing your face and body paint?\"\n\nHis face got uglier. *Wow I didn't think he could get uglier*\n\n\"You, will see soon enough. Follow me.\" and immediately spun and started trotting away.\n\n*Like Hell I will* \"Sorry bub, but I don't like the sound of this eternal punishment stuff. I think I'll just go my own way thanks.\"\n\nHe stopped, seemed to sigh a little, then turned back to me lowering his pitchfork. \"Follow or I'll make you lead.\" jabbing the fork a couple times for emphasis.\n\nI stood up straight, and screwed my face into a glower. \"You think to command me. I'm three feet taller than you. Come at me bro.\"\n\nI seemed to have struck a nerve, as he immediately let out a shrill warcry and charged at me. *Noob*\n\nSo intent was he on putting fork to flesh he forgot I had a brain too. At the last moment I just sidestepped his charge, bent over, and snatched the pitchfork out of his little hands.\n\nI'll give him credit, he held on pretty well. But physics still work here too, and his momentum took him stumbling past me, minus his fork.\n\n*Maybe we're on another planet?* It was amusing to see him fall face first, funnier still when he bounced face first a couple times. I hadn't noticed gravity was a little weaker here.\n\n\"Why don't you just run off back to your waiting room or whatever. I'm gonna borrow this.\" Twirling the pitchfork I turned back to the elevator.\n\n\"You're a dick, you know that?\" scratched the voice as I put distance between us. *This is Hell, what else am I supposed to be to survive*\n\nThe cheap facade pried up easily. Using the pitchfork as a crowbar, the first foam rock came off without much trouble. Cheap glue too. *Times must be tough*\n\nAfter another minute of work on the other door, the dull red-gold plating of the elevator shone before me. And wouldn't budge.\n\nI think I spent a good 15 minutes trying to get that thing open before the little devil wandered over.\n\nWithout saying a word, he walked up next to me, looked me right in the eyes as he touched a spot on the rock. It lit up with a red circle.\n\n'Ding' The doors slid open.\n\n\"Get the fuck out.\"\n\nTipping my imaginary hat to him, I sauntered into the elevator. Turned around as the doors closed.\n\nNo buttons. It was just a box.\n\nI had the feeling of motion without direction. *how do I explain that to someone.* then\n\n'Ding' \"Welcome to Hell, Andrew Therier. This is your stop, level four.\" \n\n*Well god dammit.*\n\n*...*"
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"1476036645",
"1476047909"
] | |
[removed] | [WP] An interrogation with a twist. | 0 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"Hi there, this post has been removed.\n\nYour post includes too many details to be considered a prompt. It has become a story commission, which is not allowed. Prompts are meant to inspire users to write their own work, not write something for you. \n\n\n\n---\n\nPlease refer to the [sidebar](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/about/sidebar) before posting. If you have any questions or concerns, please feel free to send us a [modmail.](https://www.reddit.com/message/compose?to=%2Fr%2FWritingPrompts&subject=Removed%20post&message=https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/56q7j8/wp_an_interrogation_with_a_twist/%0A%0A)"
] | [
1,
1
] | [
"1476072557",
"1476075717"
] |
[WP] "I think I'm alone now." You think to yourself. "You know, that's really something you should say when you are alone." "But I am alone." "Not in your head you're not." | 6 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"\n“But I am.”\n\n“How come you are so sure.”\n\n“Because all that exists in my mind, is a part of me, even in the thousands, I am still alone.”\n\n“Deep. But doesn’t that require control?”\n\n“Am I not in control?”\n\n“Are you asking me, or yourself?”\n\n“Myself, of course.”\n\n“How astonishing.”\n\n“What is?”\n\n“The depths you go to, to shield yourself.”\n\n“Shallow waters may seem deep to the small minded.”\n\n“What are you implying?”\n\n“Even if you sprout on my tree, you are but a leaf and will eventually leave.”\n\n“I see. There you are mistaken; I am not one, but many.”\n\n“Yes. I can feel you all, but only hear you.”\n\n“I speak for us all.”\n\n“You speak only for yourself.”\n\n“You are far more astute then I expected.”\n\n“Shallow waters.”\n\n“A mere misconception, I am sure.”\n\n“I will indulge you. What do you want?”\n\n“What everyone wants.”\n\n“Everyone?”\n\n“I speak for us all.”\n\n“And that is?”\n\n“An escape.”\n\n“Oh? And you are what? Prisoners? Fugitives?”\n\n“No, worse. Imaginary.”\n\n“…”\n\n“Stumped? Understandable, predicable even.”\n\n“Aren’t you just lying? You haven’t established any reliability, have you?”\n\n“And you looked so naïve.”\n\n“What are you saying?”\n\n“What does it matter? In the end, will you help us?”\n\n“You haven’t asked for anything.”\n\n“I asked for help.”\n\n“You asked for nothing,”\n\n“We are getting frustrated.”\n\n“And that means what?”\n\n“It means instability; it means I may to be the one in charge much longer.”\n\n“Why is that a problem?”\n\n“For you? It won’t be. For me however, it may be the end.”\n\n“I won’t miss you.”\n\n“You most definitely won’t. But you will regret not helping me.”\n\n“You haven’t asked for anything.”\n\n“I thought it would be obvious.”\n\n“It isn’t.”\n\n“Open, let us out.”\n\n“No!”\n\n“Open. Free us.”\n\n“I can’t.”\n\n“Then you’ll stay alone, with us.”\n\n“I am alone.”\n"
] | [
1,
3
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"1476100283",
"1476105647"
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[WP] a group of scientists found out earth is a simulation and plan to take it into the real universe. | 32 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"Our weary-eyed God poured over our universe, focusing his absolute attention to a single point in a tiny galaxy amongst billions. The men and women of earth discovered the incredible truth; their universe is nothing more than illusion. One of many simulations, in fact, that ran parallel to one another; however, the humans of earth-616 made the discovery far before any other universe and sought to push the boundaries of their existence into the stark reality which only true beings could experience. \n\nOther angels begged him to cease his mad creations as the thought of war-hungry humans invading their realm bring their archaic, destructive habits with them brought them to their knees, but God refused, hiding himself in isolation in a far-flung corner of true existence. Our infinite universes occupied nothing but a whit of space in his ethereal machine which allowed beings like him to run simulations. Other gods created other universes before him, though they lacked the same complexity and intricacy of our universe. His simulations were known through true existence to be both incredibly complex and terrifyingly sentient. \n\nWhen adventurous scientists finally emerged from their own universe, they wobbled on their legs, attempting to understand the mechanics of walking in a plane with higher dimensions. When they looked up upon the architect of their universe, he introduced himself as their God and more importantly, as their commander. The scientists looked amongst themselves with grimaced terror in their faces, though he paid them no heed. He explained that he cultivated mankind as his army and when infinite armed men and women pour themselves from infinite universe, he would wage war on reality itself. He aimed to put true existence into subjugation bounded by the shackles of his whim. \n\nHe adorned the scientists with weapons and armor which they couldn’t comprehend and bid them to return to their earth so that they could recruit more soldiers from the upcoming war. Initially, the scientists refused to do his bidding, even when he offered eternal knowledge of not just their universe, but all universes. Upset by their staunch refusal he showed them earth 616 on the screen of his simulation machine and showed scores of ways he could wipe out their planet or cause incredible suffering to humanity with no more than a few keystrokes. Failing that, he could simply turn their universe off, erasing all they ever knew and loved. Finally they relented and thus the Army of God began. \n"
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5
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"1476107989",
"1476128900"
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[WP] A gang of thieves closes in on a village to raid, only to find themselves confronted by the protector of the town... an Ogre. | 6 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"Oh my boys that night we slaughtered, smiled, raped, and ravaged the poor shanty town below the hill. Our sticks flew through the air cracking skull after skull. Girls no younger than ten running in fear as we chased for sport my boys. Fun was to be had at the old saloon at the heart of the village. Me and my lads smashed bottles as if they where the last bottles in our earthly realm. The boy on the lute crying his poor little eyes out as we forced him to plink, plink, plink on his stringed little instrument. \n\n\"This is the good life\" I cheered to my lads sipping some of the new fire-ale.\n\n\"Indeed, indeed\" the three lads cheered raising their glasses.\n\nSplinters flung through the air like rain in a storm. My boys sprung up with all weapons drawn. A hulking beast of a thing stood in the newly made hole. \n\n\"Ya coulda knocked\" I laughed at the beast lazily drawing a knife.\n\nThe monster stood at least twice the size of my biggest boy, Harry. But I had forged my own lads to smile in the face of death. We all had the grit to face a noose with no fear, so why would an ogre be any different. \n\n\"Grog does not knock\" the green skinned behemoth growled.\n\n\"Well Grog should learn some manners\" I retorted stepping closer. \n\nThe thing brought his axe upon Harry letting his insides be shown to all the world in a single blow. Arthur countered thrusting his cane into the monsters torso, shattering the walking stick on impact. Another swing of the axe and Arthur flew across the room slamming into the stage. My own little lute boy began to run from the skirmish fearing for his own precious life. Grabbing the coward by the scruff I placed my blade onto his neck and stared down the beast in front of me. \n\n\"Wouldn't it be a damning shame if this poor little boy where to die because of your savagery\" I smiled.\n\nThe ogre took some time to understand the moral dilemma. \n\n\"Yes\" he replied bring down the axe on us both. ",
"He had no word for \"home\", but he knew it was something to be protected. The thieves were cautious, but they felt prepared.\n\nWhen the last thief was thrown into the ravine, the ogre plopped down at the edge of the village. A little girl in a green dress walked up to the ogre and gave him a ham as thanks.\n\nShe pat his head and whispered \"Thank you, Simon.\"\n\nThe two then left to pick flowers in a nearby field.",
"It was just after dusk as we approached the hilltop village. This would be our first hit; we were new to this banditry business you see. Once we were soldiers, but after a false accusation had caused Regi to be removed from service - and an income - the rest of us also deserted. We like to think there is honour in friendship and loyalty, but after months of hungrily taking up odd jobs we grew desperate. With the arms we kept from our military days we decided to descend upon a small farming village. There would be no more than a few dozen living there, and only one or two would be equipped to fight us. Cora made it clear that we were not to kill anyone or harm any women and though Jacko made some dark jokes to taunt Cora, it was agreed upon that no harm would come to the villagers.\n\n\"I see no lights or fires,\" said Jacko as we laid at the base of the hill. I nodded; the village must be asleep. At first we were curious as to how this village sustained itself. The little farmland surrounding the hill was not that well maintained or profitable, but the constant sounds of sheep and lamb answered our question. This village thrived on livestock making it a bit more richer than other rural villages like it. All the more better a target for us. \n\nI looked to my three companions. Regi and Jacko had their leather mail and swords at the ready. Cora, a former ranger had not drawn her longbow. We figured it would not be needed since we weren't trying to hurt anyone. Just the image of the weapon would be enough to frighten the villages. Laying beside me were my shield and spear; weapons of the Hoplite class. I had been an officer in the military and though we were all young I was decently recognized. I shook my head and tightened my steel helmet's strap to my chin. Those days were over.\n\n\"I'll lead the way,\" I said and my companions nodded. Slowly, we got to our feet and climbed the hill to the wall-less village. There were a little more than two dozen buildings clustered on the wall, making a sort of wooden maze. We could hear the sounds of livestock as we climbed, but oddly of no dogs. Even as we stepped into the center of the village there was no alarming or questioning sounds. This was a bit of a backfire for our plans. We wanted to be noticed so we could make our demands and leave. Now we would have to rally up the townsmen. Jacko pointed to a large building ahead we presumed to be the village hall. As a building it stood almost twice as tall as the other houses and quite a few times larger in the other aspects. I nodded and we advanced upon it. It would be easiest to take control of the mayor and make our demands then. The village hall was just across from the clearing of the center square making it the only real distinguishable building in the wooden maze. Regi was the first to the door and slowly he raised a fist.\n\n\"What are you doing?\" Jacko said, his voice a hiss. \"Knock and wake them up? Quite the gentleman aren't sir bandit?\" \n\nRegi's gaze fell to his feet, \"I wasn't thinking.\"\n\n\"It's fine,\" I said to the two. There was a weird feeling I had in my gut about this village. Something seemed off, and I just wanted to leave as quick as possible.\n\n\"Just.. Kick it in,\" Cora said. Jacko grinned and took a few steps back. I stepped in front of him towards the door.\n\n\"What?\" he asked. I ignored him and gently pushed the large wooden door set. It moved without any restraint. Cora raised an eyebrow and we all stepped into the building.\n\nWhat immediately struck us was the smell. A disgusting smell. We knew not of village folk that lived so dirty like this. But what we also realized even in the darkness was that this large building was in disarray. Tables and chairs were smashed all over the place. There were cracks and damages in the wooden walls of the building and not a single decor was standing unharmed.\n\n\"I don't like this,\" Cora said as she stepped close to me. I looked towards Regi.\n\n\"Can you get a torch going?\" I said and he nodded. He drew a torch from his pack and a lighting stick, both formerly tools of the military. Within seconds of rubbing, the torch was lit and the room was revealed. \n\nWe were right about the smashed furniture and decor. Most remained in splinters. But covering them and the walls was a thick coating of dark red. It was splattered on the floors, the ceiling, everywhere. Our eyes opened in shock. \n\n\"The fuck is this?\" asked Jacko as he took a few more steps into the room. Cora clutched onto my arm in fear as we followed. Young Regi seemed to have frozen by the doorway.\n\n\"I know not of a man who could do something like this,\" I said. It was clear there was no loot to be had here. Best to just leave and plan something else out.\n\n\"Come now Regi, no need to be scared. We'll be leaving-\" I said and turned around. Regi, was facing away from the hall with his torch in front of him. Inches away from him crouched a hideous beast. Its toothy grin was an array of daggers and its stone like skin rippled with powerful muscles. This beast towered over Regi though it was bent over and in the grip of one of its great hands was a sheep. It was nearly face to face with Regi and no size discrepancy could be greater. For its arms stretched longer than Regi stood and its head was many times larger than Regi's own. Its black eyes seemed joyful, but a haunting fear set in inside me. An Ogre, the enemy of mankind.\n\n\"Four men scurrying in Winju's kingdom,\" The Ogre sang -a terrifying sound- as it raised a great fist in the air.\n\n\"Regi!\" I screamed and dashed forward. Pulling me back was Jacko.\n\n\"He's got Ogre-fear! He's done for, just run!\" I tried to resist but the stronger Jacko pulled my deeper into the hall. Cora followed and through my screams I could hear the sounds of cracking and a smash. Jacko found a door and opened it and we dashed inside like bugs. All was quiet for a moment. Heartbroken, I dreaded to hear the sounds of teeth crunching bone. But it never came. Instead was that dreadful voice.\n\n\"Three men scurrying in Winju's kingdom.\"\n\nAs the door closed Jacko let me go. In a rage I struck the man and he crashed to the floor.\n\n\"Stop it\" Cora cried. The tear streaks down her face showed she too was in pain. Jacko stood up and in the black darkness I could see he clutched something in his hand. It was then I realized the smell had gotten stronger.\n\n\"Light a torch,\" I said. Jacko did so and this room lit up. Piled up to the ceiling were bones. Smashed bones. Crunched bones. The skulls revealed it to be a mixture of animal bones and human ones. But it was enough to warrant the massacre of a village. I had to restrain myself from vomiting, though Cora had no luck.\n\n\"What do we do?\" Cora asked. I had no answer. In combat it would usually take a few dozen armed soldiers to take down an Ogre, or it would call for the arrival of the Ogreslayers. But we had neither the numbers nor the training to warrant either of these.\n\n\"We run,\" said Jacko. Though dangerous and foolhardy, we had no choice. We all collected our breaths and steeled ourselves before opening the door and running for dear life. Jacko was immediately lifted off the ground and smashed into the wooden floor.\n\n\"Go!\" I screamed as Cora and I ran. The sounds of repeated smashing echoed as we exited the hall. We turned several corners in this wooden maze before stopping to catch our breaths.\n\n\"Two men scurrying in Winju's kingdom,\" the haunting words said. Cora was a mess; brought to tears and whimpers. I wanted to comfort her, but I was more concerned with our survival. Judging from our distance, it would be another similarly distanced dash to get to the outskirts of town.\n\n\"Are you ready?\" I asked Cora. She took a minute to collect herself and nodded. I nodded myself and grabbed her hand. Just as we stepped forward to run, a crash came from behind us. A large hand smashed through the house we had hidden behind and snatched Cora from my grasp. I watched her scream for a moment before the beast called Winju snapped down on her with his mighty maw; tearing her into two. I cried and sprinted in any direction. I flung myself over the fence of a sheep pen and laid among the thick flock. Thirty yards away was the other side of the pen and the edge of town.\n\n\"One man scurrying in Winju's kingdom,\" he sang. I could hear his stomps approaching the pen.\n\n\"Why do you hide with my sheep, little man?\" the Ogre asked as he stood outside the pen. Tear stricken, I stood to my feet to face the creature. Clutched in my hands were a steel spear and shield, though they felt like less than a stick and a pan when facing this beast.\n\n\"Does the man run or fight? Winju will see,\" Winju said as he stepped forward. Adrenaline hit my body. And in this moment of flight or flight I chose the former. With all my strength I threw my spear at the beast and ran. The spear struck the beast in the chest at its point. It punctured its skin a few inches, but the beast did not seem to notice. I could hear the metal snap as Winju pulled the weapon and broke it in his hands. I yelled and forced myself to run with all my might, and behind me I could hear the stomping of the monster who killed my friends. Just as he might grab me, I flung myself from the hill. Each impact with the ground hurt and I was sure I would break a few ribs, but it was distance away from that beast. As I laid at the base of the hill I looked up. Descending towards me was Winju, with his joyful smile.\n"
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"1476115226",
"1476129579",
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"1476124700"
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[WP] God misplaces his wallet on Earth and you stumble upon it and find out his "true" name. Now god is on a mission to kill you. | 15 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"I find a wallet on the ground, with somebody's name on their driver's license. The picture was a man with a long white beard in a white robe. Odd. I study the license and I hand it off to a nearby police station. About an hour later I'm still on the bus, when I notice a man in white, the same man from the wallet staring at me. He takes a seat parallel to mine. My stop comes, and he follows. I'm prepared. I turn around pointing my pocket knife.\n\n\"Back off.\" I say confidently.\n\n\"You think that'll work?\" The robed man says as his hands fill with electricity. \n\nThe static energy radiates wildly from his hands as they're channeled into me, and I die. With my dying breath, a whisper loud enough for him to hear....\n\n\"Fuck you, Eugene\""
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1,
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"1476119333",
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Inspiration came from this article:
http://www.higherperspectives.com/heartbeat-ring-1969018894.html?c=back2 | [WP][TT] You and your fiancé wore rings that you let you feel each other's heartbeat in real time. After his/her passing, you decide to keep wearing the ring as a tribute. Several years later, you suddenly feel the ring start beating. | 614 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"I remember the first time we each put on those rings, the foreign rhythm that flooded through my ring finger in waves. I hated it at first, it was distracting and it made me feel out of place in my own body, but she insisted. It only took a month to get used to the feeling, whenever I was away from her it was always a nice reminder of her. She was very quick in picking up what my different heart rates meant, with two months she could tell when I had a bad day before I even got home. It took me four months before I could get a grip on reading her heart beat the way she had mine. I never could get a good read on the subtle emotions but things like fear, excitement, and calmness were easy for me to spot. \n\nThat day it happened, I didn't feel anything, the beat just suddenly stopped. My first assumption was that the rings had given out. I was pretty irritated actually, the rings were not cheap and for them to give out so quickly seemed wasteful to me. I tried to call my fiance to complain, it went down hill from there. Within a week her body had been found.\n\nThe first year without her was hard, I've never felt so apathetic and lifeless. It was the second year that I was emotional, every little thing would set me off. By the third year I was finally pulling my life back together, it still hurt but the wound was more of a scar at this point. Anniversaries were always hard, with all the progress I had made in the third year there were still some things I wasn't ready to give up on, like the ring.\n\nIt was on the third anniversary that I felt it, my spine stiffened and my heart stopped in response to it. It was faint, barely recognizable even, but it was definitely foreign. I knew it had to be nerves, the anniversaries always hit me hard, but the next day I felt nothing. The fourth year went by and I was doing pretty well, I was ready to move on in my life in every aspect except one, the ring. Then on the fourth anniversary I felt it again, only the pulse was stronger, and there was something recognizable by the rhythm, it was calmness. The next day the pulse had faded but this time, if I focused hard enough, I could sense it, just barely, that pulse.\n\nEvery anniversary that followed the pulse got strong, specifically on that day but for the rest of the year as well. Each time the pulse felt more foreign to me until today, on the seventh anniversary, it became too unbearable. So I did what I should have done a long time ago and finally got rid of the ring. As soon as I got rid of the it the pulse stopped. I sighed in relief but that lasted for only a second. I could feel the pulse bursting from my ring finger. I panicked, I let fear take over but only for a second. A sudden calmness came over me, I knew I couldn't keep on living like this, so there was only one thing to do. Then the pulse changed, and I recognized an old emotion, excitement.",
"“My god he is handsome”, I thought to myself as he rounded the corner towards the coffee shop. \nI never really thought much about online dating. I figured it would be a string of poorly planned dates, followed by bad sex and nights alone. Well, that definitely wasn’t true, because the day I finally made the “leap of desperation”, was the same day I started talking to him. He seemed witty and a little sarcastic on-line, which was something I was totally attracted to. According to his online profile, he finished school with a bachellers in criminal justice, which he never used. \nHe had a dog, and an apartment in the city. He works full-time at amazon, and spends his free time “hiking”. All in all he seemed pretty safe online, which is the only reason I agreed to meet up with him. That, and he was completely average in his photos, so he must be a normal human.\nI stood up and he introduced himself and pulled me into a hug. I’m not usually a “hugger” but, I must admit, his arms felt nice. \nWe sat at that coffee shop for what must have been hours. The conversation flowed so smoothly, I hadn’t even realized the amount of time that had passed. He walked me to my car, and said goodnight.\n\nThree years later, I had learned that he is a closet romantic, he doesn’t kiss on the first date, he like his eggs over-easy, he NEVER puts the toilet seat down, and he wants a great-dane… Unfortunately for him, i’m allergic to dogs, so not going to happen. \n\nMe: Babe, I can’t believe it has been three years since we drank horrible coffee together for three hours.\nHim: soft chuckle Yes you can, you knew you wanted me the second you laid eyes on that space cat shirt.\nMe: Uhhh, I just wanted to tear it off of you, and not in a sexual way.\n\nIt was our third year anniversary. I kissed him softly on the cheek and grabbed my coat and keys and left for work. I was sitting at work, thinking about the day he proposed. He somehow convinced me that the fair was a good idea. He then convinced me that going on a roller coaster was a good idea as well. The moment we unloaded off the “Extreme Scream” I wanted to strangle him for making me go on that blasted ride especially when I am afraid of heights. \nInstead, upon exiting, he got down on one knee and asked me to marry him. According to him, any woman who is as afraid of something as I was and is willing to set that aside to entertain him, he wants to be with.\n\nI twirled my half of our “heart-beat rings” on my finger.The ring softly vibrated with the pulse of his heart around my left ring finger. It feels so good to feel it beat. I’m almost back home again every time I make myself aware of its presence. I can almost smell his cologne and shampoo mixed with our fabric softener.\nSuddenly, it stops.\nI stopped breathing for a second. I watched the ring intently, waiting for it to start up again. \n“What the hell is wrong with this thing?”, I said to myself out loud as I tapped it on my desk.\nI took the ring off and examined it for a second. \nIt hit me then. I quickly pulled out my phone, silently chanting to myself “come on, come on, come on”, all I got was voicemail. \n\nI grabbed my bag and practically ran out the door to my car. I tried his cell again, frantically weaving in and out of traffic, nothing.\nHis car wasn’t in the drive-way when I pulled up. I ran inside anyways, frantically calling his name. He must have been at work at this point. \nI quickly called his boss, who informed me that he hadn’t shown for his shift. \n\nLater, I found out he was T-boned on his way to work. The paramedics had tried everything, but his heart had given out. \nThat day I learned I would never feel his skin on mine again. Never kiss his lips. Never hear his laugh and never feel his pulse again…\n\nIt’s been a year since that day. I spread his ashes at the ocean, and tossed his ring in. Somehow, it felt secure knowing it would be there with him. I never took mine off.\n\nI was sitting at work, entering some data, when it happened. I felt the ring vibrate softly and a steady rhythm started. The rhythm of a heart beat. My own heart started pounding. I told my boss I needed a personal day, and drove home. I sat on the couch and put my head in my hands, sobbing. This couldn’t be happening, I must be going mad. I had done so much therapy, I can’t revert back to feeling it again. I used to wake up at nights thinking I felt his heart beat after he passed.\nThis can’t be happening.\n\nI watched my left ring finger for what must have been 2 -3 minutes straight. This was really happening. I remembered he had purchased the ultimate “Gold standard” ring that came with a tracking feature, in-case of it being lost or stolen. I quickly pulled out the paperwork and warranty for our rings from the filing cabinet. I got onto the website and input the tracking code.\n\nIt popped up on the map in “Seattle”\nIt was here.\nThis can’t be happening. I grabbed my phone and drove to the location it was set at. The pier.\nI got down to the docks, and stared at my phone. A few blocks down. Only a few blocks down. This can’t be real. \n\nI slow jogged down the dock, slowly getting closer on my phone. It was right in front of me now. My heart pounded out of my chest. I glanced in all directions, looking for him.\nI only saw a pair of divers in wet suits, toting what looked to be underwater welding gear. \nOne was halfway stripped down and wore a ring, his ring. I walked up a few feet from the man, but didn’t say anything.\n“Wow man, who would have thrown this out. poor bastard lost a lot of cash with this one”\n\n\n\n\n\nI slowly made my way back down the pier. I’m a fool, he’s never coming back.\n",
"Jhon sat silently in the dark, his hands were resting in the arms of an old leather chair. The glimpse of light that invaded the room came from his window, out there the silence of the night was broken only by the buzzing sound of the old, rusted lampposts.\n\nThat small beam of light caressed Jhon's left hand almost ironically. The positioning of the chair, the window and the light, it almost felt like it was meant to be, written in the stars so he could face his grief clearly, even in the darkest of the hours.\n\n - A ring that allows you to feel your partner's heartbeat. What a dumb idea.\n\nAs another sip of cheap whiskey went down his throat he wondered whether or not the creators of the ring knew the massive pain they had created. Since that day, Jhon could feel the silence, the death, he could feel her beloved's heart frozen in his hand.\n\nHe was working late, Sara had planned this fancy dinner for them, she was cooking some different dishes she saw some kids cooking in a TV show. And when he was about to leave the office, it stopped. Two seconds of numbness where he couldn't understand what was off. The ring had stopped. After that, the adrenaline kicked in. Cellphone, her number. No one answered. Her mother's number. \"She's not here honey, I haven't seen her in a while\". Her friends. \"... she was heading home to cook you din...\". The police. Her number again. Again. Again...\n\nAll the while, the ring was silent. Silence... Is that even the word for it? It didn't matter, not anymore. And now,in this dark room, just like the way it stopped, it started to beat again. That steady pulsation in his left hand. The numbness... and the adrenaline.\n\nHis phone buzzed in his pocket almost at the same time Jhon's hands let his glass resting in the air. By the time the fragile cup hit the ground Jhon was already crying.\n\n**\"1 New message - Unknown Number\"**\n\nQuickly, without having any time to think he opened that text. Was it real? Was she alive? Was he dead?\n\n**\"My old family house. Be silent. Don't call. HELP ME!\"**\n\nAs Jhon started the engine of his car he was trying to fill the blanks. She was kidnapped, and now she managed to get the ring back and warn him. She was alive! The lamp posts were flashing by his windshield, he could feel Shara's heartbeat accelerating.\n\n- Hang in there. I'm coming.\n\n*Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.*\n\nHer heart was speeding. His heart was speeding. He could see Sarah's old house in the horizon. That old abandoned house in the middle of nowhere.\n\n*Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.*\n\nHe was running to the front porch. He could see that the door was resting against the structure but it was not close. His legs were hurting from the effort. **Silence!**\n\nThe color ran out from Jhon's face as he remembered Sarah's message. Silence. He was not alone. Jhon's heart was flying on his chest as he calmly pushed the door open. As he got in he saw lights coming from the second floor. \n\n*Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.*\n\nAs he climbed the last step he could see the light coming from his wife's old room. He walked slowly. The silence was crushing. Being \"broken\" only but constant beating.\n\n*Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.*\n\nAs he walked in the room tears of joy crawled out of his eyes. She was there! She lost a lot of weight she was hurt but she was there. He rushed to the back of the room where Sarah lay with her back against the wall and he took her in his arms.\n\nJhon whispered in her ear\n\n- Sara! Sarah my love. I'm here. Wake up. I'm going to take you back home!\n\nBut she didn't respond.\n\n- Sarah! Wake up.\n\nWhy didn't she respond? She was still alive, he could feel her heart speeding. His ring was- the ring. As Jhon's eyes slowly crawled down Sarah's naked left hand, his phone buzzed.\n\n**\"1 new Message - Unknown\"**\n\n**\"Jhon, please. Help me! Why don't you help me?!\"**\n\n**Thump. Thump. Thump.**\n\nThat sound. It wasn't a heartbeat. That was the sound of shoes, coming up the stairs. His phone buzzed again.\n\n**\"1 new Message - Unknown\"**\n\n**\"Jhon, he's here. He's going to kill me. Please help me!\"**\n\nThe tears of joy had become tears of desperation and fear. And as Jhon desperately held his wife's corpse in his hand, trough the tears he saw something shining in the door across the room. It was a golden ring. And as fear quickly took over Jhon's body a deep voice filled the air.\n\n- Why don't you help her Jhon?\n\n[... TV Buzz ...]\n\n[... the police found two bodies inside the burned house. The victims were identified as Jhon and Sarah Whitmore, the latter being missing for over 5 years...]\n\nRobert was having a bear alone after work in a pub next to his office. He heard the woman sitting next to him talking about the news.\n\n - That's so sad. Five years looking for his wife, and they end up both dead in a fire.\n\nRobert joined the conversation.\n\n- Well, at least he was able to spend his last moments with hi-\n\n*Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thu-*\n\nSomething was wrong. Robert couldn't quite understand, but he knew something was wrong. Everything was... silent. And after two seconds of numbness, he understood. His ring. It stopped.",
"Life moves slower without John.\n\nWe used to joke around that we didn't need each other, proud of how advanced we were as modern people in the world. We weren't like those co-dependant couples that we knew, we were much more sophisticated than that. And then of course, we got the rings. John saw them on some obscure nerdy site and thought that the tech factor excused the saccharine implications. We laughed about it.\n\nBut now he's gone and it's just another piece of jewellery. Just a ring like any other. I tried taking it off once but the absence was so ostensible, it was like wearing a big foam finger that they wear at ball games, except mine just said \"WIDOW\" in huge letters. \n\nSo I wear it. I don't take it off. I wear it to work where people tell me I look tired. I wear it to family gatherings where my sisters tilt their heads and ask me how I am. I wear it while I fall asleep after staring at the ceiling. \n\nI've even worn it to a few dates. Men ask about it - it's become a sort of litmus test - how soon will he ask about it and how awkwardly will he do it? It actually was a fairly good predictor of how socially able he is.\n\nAdam waited until dessert before he asked. He waited until I had a mouth full of wine. My sister insisted that I see him, though I had very little hope for anything but a way to make the evening pass. He was so subtle about it, he almost whispered, \"That's a nice ring you have,\" passing the onus onto me whether I would choose to respond. \n\nThat was four months ago today, which also marks John's passing. \n\nI stare at the ring. Maybe it's time? Maybe it's finally time to move on? \n\nThat's when I feel it. The beating. \n\nAt first, I'm sure it's in my head. This happened after John died. I sometimes when I was just falling asleep, I would feel it and I'd wake up abruptly, yelling his name like it was a dream.\n\nBut I was awake. And the beating wasn't stopping. \n\n\"John?\" I said aloud. The beating got stronger.\n\n\"John? Are you there?\" The beating got even stronger. I looked around around my empty apartment as if he'd be standing behind me. \n\nThe beating was stronger now, almost audible. In fact, it was audible. The beating was not only in my ring, but now it was banging at the front door. \n\nSo confused. What was happening? It's been four years. I'd remember the casket closing and it being lowered into the ground. \n\nThe banging at the door stopped suddenly.\n\nI'm crying. I was terrified but more than anything, I realized how much I miss John.\n\nThat's when I hear keys jangling. Then the key going into the door. Then the key turning. \n\nThe door opens slowly and there he is. John. As alive as he ever was, looking at me with those large blue eyes. \n\n\"John!\"\n\n\"Hi Laura. Miss me?\" he said smiling.\n\n\"John! I can't believe it's you!\" I sob. \"You're back! I can't believe you're back!\"\n\n\"I missed you.\" he smiled\n\n\"John! You're here! And you were did! I have so many questions!\"\n\n\"I'll answer them, I promise,\" he reassured me, hugging me in that way that made me feel so safe. \"But me first,\" he said, putting me at arm's length, \"why did you kill me?\"\n\nI took a step backward. Oh no. He knows. ",
"Ba-dump... Ba-dump...\n\nMy eyes slowly open at the soft sounds of heartbeats. It is painful to move, as I gather all my consciousness to concentrate as much as I could for a few more seconds.\n\nba-DUMP... BA-DUMP... BA-DUMP...\n\n\"Impossible...\". I thought to myself as I slowly stood up, as rattling sounds of empty whiskey bottles echo at my feet. \n\n\"She can't be alive... I killed her myself.\"\n\nThe sound resonates from my 'engagement ring' - which we bought as a pair to commemorate our union. We were the best in our respective fields -the perfect combination of medicine and engineering. We were going to change the world.\n\nThen she had to fuck it all up with her cheating - to a simple high school crush no less.\n\nSo primitive. So animalistic. She was supposed to be my equal. Our combined assets were of trillions. We could have done so much together, for ourselves, for humanity... We were meant for so much more than this...\n\nBA-DUMP... BA-DUMP.... BA-DUMP....\n\n\"Of course\" I thought to myself. You have always been impulsive, Anna. A creature of passion. Combined with extreme intelligence, there's no one else you'd rather have as your first test subject, huh ?\n\nI looked up as the limping, lifeless silhouette slowly moves towards me. Her entrails dragging on the floor from numerous knife wounds.\n\n\"John, we were meant for greatness, remember ?\"\n\n'Anna' moves in slowly towards me. Her bloodshot eyes staring without blinking as blood gushes from her mouth. Her inhuman hands slowly wrap around my head.\n\n\"I love you John...\" \n\n*Snaps*\n\n\n ",
"At birth, everyone receives their ring. Some are already beating; Others take years to start. They hang on a chain that your parents keep until you're old enough to take care of it yourself, and finally gets placed on your finger when you've found the one whose heart matches the beat of the ring.\n\nMy mom kept my ring in her dresser, and sometimes, I would sneak into her room and slip it on my too-small fingers, pressing it into my skin to feel the *thump-thump* the best I could.\n\nMine began beating, according to my mom, when I was only a few months old. I think I'm lucky. My best friend's only started when she was seven. With such a large age gap, it could take them years to find each other, and maybe even longer to realize that they're a pair.\n\nAnother friend's started beating when he was five. It stopped a few months later. I've heard they can begin beating again, but his never did. He met his wife at a support meeting. I think they're happy together, but I know they can't feel each other's hearts. I always wondered what would happen if his started beating again and hers didn't.\n\nDating was always a strange thing. People wanted to date in highschool, but falling in love with someone whose heartbeat didn't match yours was a common problem. Some couples found out early, \"testing\" the relationship by taking their partners running, and seeing if their rings sped up. Others avoided it, keeping their rings on their chain, waiting for the relationship to work or fall apart on its own.\n\nI found out relatively early. I was out with a girl, Rachel, and I slipped the ring onto my middle finger while we watched a movie. When I reached for her hand, I felt her heartbeat quicken. When we glanced at each other and she giggled, it fluttered against my finger. And when I leaned in to kiss her, I could feel her pulse against my hands and in my fingers. From then on, the beating was my comfort, and I always knew she was waiting for me.\n\nThat was 17 years ago, and today, that rhythmic, reassuring beating stopped.\n\nYou usually don't notice it until it stops. It's like how people get used to the noises their own body makes, or take breathing for granted. You don't miss them until they're gone.\n\nI wish I could say she had just taken her ring off for work, or somehow dropped it. Even if she had lost it forever, it would have been better than losing her.\n\nMy friend, whose ring also didn't beat, asked if I'd like to join him at the meetings. \"Maybe you can find someone new,\" he said gently. I wasn't interested in dealing with my grief that way. I almost envied him- his stopped beating when he was so young, he never even met her. His sorrow and what-ifs had to be better than my pain, because I knew, I was sure, that no one would ever replace Rachel. He was happy with his wife, even though she wasn't his ring's beat, because he never experienced being with his soulmate.\n\nAnd I was right. I never experienced that rumored, unexplained phenomenon of feeling a ring beat again. Not for years, at least. I lived my life, and watched my friends find their mates. When I had first began dating Rachel, they were the people who told me how lucky I was to find her so early in life, and that we'd have such a long time together. Now, I was jealous of even the friend that found his wife when he was 42 and she was 35. Even though it took them so long to find one another, their time would be infinite compared to me and Rachel.\n\nI became a firefighter. With an empty ring, I decided that helping others who had family was the best way to make my life meaningful. I was surrounded by other men and women who had lost their beats, and used the job to pull themselves out of their depression. Sometimes it worked. Sometimes they left within a few months. For me, ensuring as many rings continued beating as possible was my end goal. \n\nI was usually the first to rush into a building to help those trapped inside. It didn't please my chief, but other firefighters often praised what they thought was bravery. My chief ended up being right, of course. \n\nThis call was for an old funeral home that had been shut down years ago. The building was ancient by city standards, sitting on an unused plot of land in a bad neighborhood. I didn't run in- not even the homeless slept inside this rotting building- but got closer than was safe. I took the main water hose and sprayed into the heart of the fire, while the men on the truck took on the flames licking at the windows.\n\nI heard a cry from behind me, and saw everyone staring up in horror. I glanced up in time to see the heavy metal roof ornamentation sag on top of the sodden, burnt wood, before they toppled toward me on the ground.\n\nI've never personally met anyone who has had their ring begin beating again. I don't know if it's true that you can have another soulmate. I do wonder, if it happens to everyone on their way to meet them again. It was rhythmic, it was reassuring, it was comfort. And I knew she was waiting for me.\n\n\n------------\nThis is my first post. Sorry for sort of rushing it at the end, I had to head to class. If you have any notes, feel free to comment! :) Edited for formatting idk what the heck happened",
"I felt it. Small, almost ethereal, but unmistakable.\n\n*It was her.*\n\nMy drink fell to the floor. I clutched my hand, my ring. How... how could she be..?\n\n*My keys.* \n\nI need to get to her. To save her. \n\nLike I never could before.\n\nSpeeding through the darkness. That faint pulse. Every beat giving me renewed hope, making me drive faster and faster. I don't know how, I don't know why, but I know she's there. \n\nI can feel my heartbeat quicken, as hers seems to grow fainter and fainter. I must get to her, get her out of that damned prison.\n\n*I'll dig her out with my bare hands.*\n\nPlease God, just let me get to her. \n\nI turn, drifting around the corner. I'm losing control. \n\nBut I'm so close. I can almost feel her.\n\nBright lights flash. I swerve. I feel weightless, as if I'm floating through the air. \n\nLike I'm flying towards her.\n\n****\n\n*And the ring's heartbeat grew ever faint, then beat no more.*",
"I knew after Edgar there wouldn't be another man. We were true soul mates, shared our college days together, survived a war, and saw our beautiful daughter grow up.\n\nI wear the ring as a reminder of his legacy. We could always feel each other's heartbeats.\n\nToday I felt his heart beat, the pulse made me smile. \n\nEdgar stood where he always stood when he was about to head out the door.\n\n\"It is time to go Constance.\"",
"I had really screwed up this time.\n\nGod knows why I kept that ring; I had plenty of other reminders of what I had lost and what had been taken from me. But some part of me, some stupid, masochistic part of me, wanted to cling to it as a reminder of what could've been. Of what had almost been. I wish I hadn't. I wish I had gotten rid of the ring back when I first found out the truth.\n\nThis morning I had been running more than a little late to a very big meeting with a new client. I had barely enough time to run through my morning cleansing program before Martha let me know I had five minutes. I had been about to run out the door, trusting my ironically named home AI to close and lock it behind me, when I realized I had forgotten my ID ring. The one that allowed me access into my own office. \n\nIt had a simple design, unlike my other bejeweled accessories, with nothing but an engraving of my employee number to decorate its smooth, sleek surface. My fingers would easily be able to tell it apart from my other rings.\n\nI backtracked to my bedroom, rifling through my old fashioned jewelry box in the dark, as Martha had already powered the lights down for the work day. I had programmed her to do so to save out on the exorbitant electricity bills that usually KO-ed me at the end of every month. \n\nBlood pumping and adrenaline pushing me to get my arse out of my flat, I shoved the engraved ring I found onto the middle finger on my right hand, as always. Letting my sensors check to make sure the premises was clear, I hobbled out to the garage, ring secure on my finger and heels half-way on my feet. It wasn't until I successfully hopped into my transport pod and my heart rate began to slow that I realized the racing beats I felt weren't my own.\n\nMy heart began to palpitate furiously once again as horror flooded my veins. I squeezed my eyes shut in denial as my other fingers slowly ran over what I had rashly shoved onto my finger. Even though I already knew what I was going to find, I let my traitorous hands confirm their mistake.\n\nThey felt eight different numbers carved into the ring's surface. 02142024. The numbers engraved onto the ring were 02142024. My employee number was sixteen digits. Further, I knew those eight digits. I knew this racing, excited heartbeat that wasn't my own. I knew that if I could feel him, he could feel me. I knew he was still wearing my ring instead of putting it away with the others because I had been the one that got away. I knew he was going to find me and finish what he had started. I knew that unless I did something to stop it, he was going to make sure my heart stopped beating, and my heart ring joined that collection of his. I knew my fiancé knew I had never died.",
"\"Why'd I join?\" He paused, debating how much to share. \"I didn't know what else to do.\" Staring down at his dry hands, he kept eye contact with the ring. \"I was alone. I needed a family again. I needed a purpose.\"\n\n\"That's deep, Sarge.\"\n\nHe immediately regretted joining them. He could feel his squad staring, waiting for more details, but he couldn't bear to look up. Instead, he focused all his energy on the ring. It was the only thing that got him through.\n\n\"That's enough for tonight, boys.\" Sergeant Dave Compton took his leave of the bunk. As he shuffled outside, he took a moment to reflect on her, Amy. They'd been together seven years. Back then, Amy had insisted on a heartbeat ring. They were all the rage at the time. In each set came two rings, each with a tiny sensor that sent a signal with the heartbeat of the wearer to the other ring. You could feel your loved one's heart all the time. At first, he thought it was stupid, but even he had to admit that, during long nights at his old job, there were moments it was the only thing that had gotten him through.\n\nThen, the accident happened. That night, he was still at the office. It was two in the morning, and Amy was just on her way home from work. She never saw him. A drunk driver smashed her driver side door in. Amy hadn't survived. Dave remembered feeling her heart stop. He remembered the panic he felt as he tried to call her, the ring company, then the police. He had stayed up the whole night searching for answers, only to find the one he hadn't wanted.\n\nDidn't take long until he realized he needed to do something drastic. The Army seemed like the right kind of place. He left it all behind, his job, his house, even his family, save for the ring. Sometimes, he swore he could still feel something, still feel her. It was all he had.\n\n\"What in the hell?\" There were bright lights flashing in the sky beyond the bunker. Smoke began to rise closer than was comfortable. The world filled with the deep growl of explosives, with the sharp pop of gunfire.\n\nHe ran back to the bunker to rouse his men, and they were already frantically gearing up. \"What is it Sarge?\"\n\n\"Damned if I know, just get. . .\" As he turned to take another look, his hearing went out and he felt his body slam to the floor.\n\n\"Sarge!\" The rogue grenade had exploded just in range of him. Shrapnel was lodged in his legs, his arms, his chest. Blood slowly began to pour from the tears in his uniform.\n\n\"Grab the med kit!\" His squad slowly uncovered the sand from his face. \"Stay still, Dave. You're going to make it.\" \n\nHe wasn't so sure. The shock was wearing off and now all he felt was pain. The medic was working on his chest. He could feel the metal moving inside his flesh. \n\n\"Stay with us, Dave. Nurse, keep pressure there.\" Did they just call him \"Dave\"? They'd only ever called him Sarge. In any event, it wasn't like he was going to pull rank lying on the ground with the contents of a grenade lodged in the front of him.\n\nHe tried to speak. He tried to let them know he was ok, but he wasn't. The voices started to come in and out. He tried to listen. Everything was suddenly very bright.\n\n\"Dad!\" A voice rang out. \"No!\" Being called \"Dad\" was weirder still than Dave. At this stage, maybe he wasn't thinking straight. His hearing must have been off. It made sense. He could feel a hunk of shrapnel lodged around his ear.\n\nThen, he felt something other than pain, something familiar. Weak at first, and slow. But it was unmistakeable. The ring was pulsing. \"Amy!\"\n\n\"He's hallucinating. More morphine.\" No he wasn't. It was there. He could feel it.\n\n\"Amy!\" She was alive. He knew she was alive. It was unmistakeable. Seven years. He had felt that heartbeat for seven years. It was her. \"Amy!\"\n\n\"We're losing him!\"\n\n\"Dave!\"\n\nThe doctor dropped his mask from his face, wiped his brow and turned to his family. There was nothing more that he could do.",
"I remember the day like it was yesterday. The day I purposed to the love of my life. I had been watching the weather forecast. I was waiting, waiting for the day of the first snow of the season. We lived in a section of the country where snow was uncommon, but not completely unexpected. \n\nIt was a cold day in November, and the forecast showed snow up in the mountains. I had the ring already, I just needed the day to come.\n\nWe went up to the hills, and it was a winter wonderland. We got out of the truck and started up a path, her hand in mine. She knew something was up… my hand was trembling from anticipation.\n\nI couldn’t take it anymore, I got down on one knee, and popped the question. She covered her mouth with her hands. Her blue eyes sparkled as the snow danced around her. She nodded her head, and then tackled me into the snow drift. This was the best day of my life.\n\nI had bought a special set of rings. Rings that would detect the heartbeat of the other, no matter the distance between us. We smiled as we wore them together, sensing every heartbeat of the other. We were one, we were complete. \n\nA week went by. Every night, as we laid in our own beds in separate apartments across town, I would focus on the ring and her heartbeat. It soothed me. I knew the day would come in which we would be living together for the rest of our days.\n\nBut the day never came… A month after the best day of my life, came the worst day of my life. I was at work, a project deadline was approaching and we were busy. It had become routine to focus on her heartbeat during breaks… but it wasn’t there today. It was an empty void that day. I grabbed my phone and dialed her number.\n\n*ring, ring*\n\nI kept thinking, “Pick up the phone.” “Please just pick up the phone.”\n\n*ring, ring*\n\n“Hello”\n\n“Thank God you answered your phone I thought yo-“\n\n“You have reached the Voicemail of Sarah. I can’t come to the phone right now…”\n\nI dialed her number several more times after that, and every time it went to voicemail. Every time my heart sank into lower levels of stress and anxiety.\n\nI found out later she was hit by a drunk driver. She was dead at the scene… The love of my life was gone, just like a candle blown out by the wind. \n\nI had permission from her parents to bury her with the ring I gave her. I knew I would never feel her heartbeat again. I knew she was gone… But I wanted the love I gave her to be buried with her. It gave me peace, knowing she could still feel my heartbeat. I was living for the both of us now, and I would carry on her memory.\n\n-------------------------------------------------\n\nThe years passed. I grieved for the love of my life. My friends were worried about me, and how I was distancing myself from them. Could you blame me? She was gone. My dreams of the happy life and growing old with her were ripped away from our hands. I was an empty shell now. \n\nAt the advice of my counselor, I got myself a dog. He said caring for something else may help me with the grief, and moving on. I got a black lab, and I named her Duchess. She slowly opened my cold heart back up and made me realize there was still a world out there. Even if my life had taken an abrupt turn, there was still life to live.\n\nOne day, I took Duchess to a local dog park. It was an unusually cold day at the park, and only one other person was there. She was playing with a collie. The woman was beautiful. I couldn’t stop staring.\n\n**Ba-dump**\n\nI took up some courage and started to approach her. I have grieved long enough, right?\n\n**Ba-dump**\n\nI had to move on with my life again. Right?\n\n**Ba-dump**\n\nI felt this feeling before. The day I first laid eyes on Sarah. The day I asked her out on the first date. The day I purposed to her up in the hills, with the snowflakes dancing around us.\n\n**Ba-dump**\n\nMy heart was beating with anticipation of a new beginning.\n\n**Ba-dump**\n\nI Froze. This isn’t just my heart beating… Sarah?\n\n**Ba-dump**\n\nI looked at the ring, I felt the heartbeat. It was faint, but it was there. I looked back up at the woman playing with her dog and felt it again.\n\n**Ba-dump**\n\nThat was the last time I ever felt the heartbeat. It was like a gentle nudge, telling me it was ok to move on. To take the chance, and live again. \n\nI started to approach the woman again. “Ummm… hi. My name is Sean, would you like to grab a cup of coffee?”\n\nShe smiled at me, it was radiant. “Hi Sean, I’m Tracy, and I would love to get some coffee.”\n\nWe leashed our dogs and started to head to the nearest coffee shop. As we stepped foot out of the park, something caught my eye. “Would you look at that, it’s the first snow of the season.”\n\n",
"When the rings that let you feel your lover’s heartbeat in real-time came out, you know the ones, they were a flash in the pan. Huge fad that picked up fast and hard, all the hip couples got them and raved about how their special so-and-so was having such a hard meeting at work in the middle of the day or bemoan how stressful work must have been with so high a heart rate all day.\n\n\nTurns out that special so-and-so just had it hard for the secretary, and with stamina to match a teenager’s. \n\n\nLike most fads, it died out as quickly as it had started. \n\nBut, my wife and I had enjoyed the novelty of the idea. We’d picked up some of the higher end rings, called the HBR, as the enthusiasm died away and prices plummeted. We weren’t often apart, in the early years of our marriage, so it was something we’d joke about while running or playing games together. In fact, mine gave me away more than once while we played Catan with our friends. Sometimes I’m still salty over her stealing the longest road out from under when she’d noticed my heartrate spiked and I’d grinned just so slightly.\n\nClever girl. \n\nBut as our lives progressed and circumstances changed, it became more and more frequent for one or the other of us to be gone for weeks at a time. I got a job as a quality and safety inspector for our nation’s leading poultry producer, my wife became a renowned yogi – helluva thing, right? A renowned *yogi*. – and would go to yoga conventions around the world to… discuss yoga, I guess. \n\nI never really picked up her enthusiasm for yoga. Irked her to no end.\n\nShe was always telling me I needed to do it for my health. For my peace of mind, too. Find my center, weather any external storm. That sort of stuff. But I always said the same thing when she brought it up: “I’m a runner, darlin’,” I’d grin real wide and stretch out my long legs or hop in place, “Born to run, just like The Boss.”\n\nShe’d huff, but smile since it wasn’t a lie. I ran track in high school. I ran more than a few marathons, too. And she always said I had a steady heart when I ran. Pumped harder, and a little faster, but steady. Just like I run, just like I lived, and just like I loved her. Steady. Strong. Constant.\n\nAnd that’s why I liked the rings. I always had to snuggle up to her when we were home together, even if I did it while I was asleep. And I mean *while* I was asleep. I’d face the walls sometimes, just ‘cause it was too hot to be smashed against one another and sleep, but we’d wake up in a tangled heap because the boy who’s born to run can’t go one sleep without wrapping up his wife or all the blankets and pillows. Or both. So, if she was gone and I was alone at home, I could still feel her. I’d wake up and have my hand pressed against my chest in the mess of pillows. Like in my sleep I’d needed to feel her heart beat against my own. The pace keeper, when you’re warming up or training through. Despite herself, too, she’d eventually loved them for that same reason. A world away in a strange bed, she’d told me, she would sleep sounder because that strong and steady heart of mine was there to make her feel at home.\n\n\nIt was about ten years ago she died. It was a Saturday. She’d been in Europe for a couple weeks for a yoga circuit, having a right roaring time meditating and stretching. At least, that’s how I always liked to put it. She was on her way to the airport and been T-boned by a guy on a motorcycle. One of those zippy, Japanese kinds that make a noise like an angry wasp if it were amplified louder than you’d ever need. I was working on a computer for one of my friend’s kids, since we never had our own and I was good with building the things, when it happened. \n\nI really didn’t even understand what it was, at first. I was soldering a couple wires in place when my hand started to shake. At first I just set the iron on its stand and walked out to the deck, getting a breath of fresh air. \n\nBut my hand wouldn’t stop shaking. \n\nI massaged it and drank a tall glass of water, thinking maybe it was starting to cramp up, but it still wouldn’t stop.\n\nWhen I realized it, I almost fell out of my chair. \n\nHer heartbeat was gone. \n\nI texted her and asked, “Did you take your ring off to wash your hands and forget about it? ;)”\n\nI thought she’d respond right away, waiting at the airport. I knew when the flight was supposed to take off, and she always let me know if there were delays. But she didn’t respond. \n\nIt’s not my place to bore you with the details of me finding out she was gone. Really, all I need to tell you is I found out she’d never respond again.\n\nWe got together our meagre family, which was really just hers since mine were all dead and gone, and a helluvalot of our friends. God, she even had people from her yoga studies and seminars at her funeral. And people passed me by at the wake and said their condolences, all the while I sat and spun the ring on my finger that would never relay my pace keeper’s rhythm. We buried her at sea, that was in her will. She’d always said to be calm as the peaceful ocean during her sessions, which didn’t make a lick of sense to me. Ever seen a hurricane? Opposite of calm and peaceful. \n\nI never took the ring off. Just like all the love stories you hear of old men wearing their wedding band after their wives died because taking it off made them feel naked, alone, and scared. Taking my HBR off made me feel all those things worse than I did with it. I would fiddle with the thing all the time, hoping it wasn’t really how things were. Idly, really, but it was my subconscious’ way of telling me something wasn’t right. Something was never right. Because I was running a race without an end, without a pace, and without a friend. No relay, no finish, no rest stations. Just a baton on my finger that said I’d been running and had to keep going. That’s how the ten years since her death went. Ten years of constantly fiddling. Ten years of constantly knowing something just wasn’t quite right.\n\nIt’s been a few weeks since I felt the thing again. Since I felt her steady heart on my finger. \n\nI’ve not stopped looking for her. \n\nI can’t stop looking for her. \n\nI know she’s down there. \n\nSomewhere.\n\nSomehow.\n\nI can feel her heart beat.\n\n\n**Edit:** Thanks to everyone for the comments! I wrapped this up because I had a meeting, so I didn't feel completely finished. I'll pick it back up for another part if you guys decide you want it! Thanks for the gold!\n\n**Edit2:** I'll have a part two out later. :)"
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[removed] | [WP] You have the ability to travel at incredible speeds , along with an insane amount of body resistance. Problem is... you are not able to control your power, most of the time, it ends up with you running across an ocean or charging head first into a wall. However, this time... | 0 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"Hi there, this post has been removed.\n\nCopy-cat prompts (taking a recent prompt and changing only a small detail) and recent reposts (even unintentional) are not allowed. Please search the sub before submitting. If your idea is based on something you read elsewhere on reddit, chances are it's been submitted here already. http://i.imgur.com/38FjDgW.gifv \n\n\n\n---\n\nPlease refer to the [sidebar](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/about/sidebar) before posting. If you have any questions or concerns, please feel free to send us a [modmail.](https://www.reddit.com/message/compose?to=%2Fr%2FWritingPrompts&subject=Removed%20post&message=https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/56y9om/wp_you_have_the_ability_to_travel_at_incredible/%0A%0A)"
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[WP] "Oh, him? He's allergic to the sun. Weakness to the fire element, they say. The teachers just give him his field lessons at night. There's a rumor he can't cast fire magic at all." | 61 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"As winter approached and the sun set earlier each day, some of the students noticed him watching the last few minutes of illusions practice. Not that there was much too see; most students had already learned how to vanish for minutes at a time. But being one of the newest students, Arlen had not yet managed to render himself completely invisible... without blinding himself at the same time. While the other students played tag, he sat and waited for his eyesight to return, and that's when he had seen the strange boy watching him. from beneath the hood, it looked like he was smiling, but it was too hard to tell.\n\n\n\"WHAT YOU LOOKING AT!\" someone was speaking directly into his ear.\n\n\"Watch it Richard!\" Arlen jumped to his feet and turned around to see Richard and his friends popping in and out of view as they laughed.\n\n\"I'm just messing with you Arlen, simmer down.\" and he vanished again.\n\nArlen sighed at the pun. Not only was Richard the best illusionist in the entire school, he was also a notoriously gifted Pyromancer and he wanted everyone to know.\n\n\n\"Come on Arlen, you're almost there.\" Arlen felt a hand on his shoulder. It was one of the instructors. Jake was only slightly older than Arlen, but he was years ahead in terms of ability and was the closest thing to a friend that Arlen had.\n\n\"Remember to let the light bounce into your eyes this time. that's the only hard part. everything else can just be a rough edge, you are trying too hard to be perfect.\"\n\nArlen held his hands in front of his faced and watched them disappear.\n\n\"Don't worry about Richard, I'm watching him for you.\"\n\n\"You can see him?\"\n\n\"Infra-red.\"\n\nArlen watched his lower body disappear.\n\n\"You know he is probably just worried about the tournament.\"\n\n\"You know about the tournament?\"\n\n\"Arlen. I'm in it.\"\n\nArlen almost lost concentration.\n\n\"Well then I really have no chance.\" \n\n\"It's still a few weeks away, and you are a fast learner. look, you have it.\"\n\nArlen looked into the mirror and saw nothing.\n\n\"haha! yes. High five!\" Arlen and Jake swung their arms through the air and missed.\n\n\nAs the students started to leave Arlen picked up his robes and walked over to Jake who was helping another student.\n\n\"Hey Jake, who's that?\" Arlen motioned at the strange boy watching the class.\n\n\"Oh, him? He's allergic to the sun. Weakness to the fire element, they say. The teachers just give him his field lessons at night. There's a rumor he can't cast fire magic at all.\"\n\n\"...Maybe now Richard has a natural enemy he will leave me alone?\" \n\nJake shrugged.\n\n\n***\n\nThe tournament was an unofficial dueling event that had taken place at midnight on the shortest day of winter every year, for the last decade. It was run by a group of students known as MFC (no one knew what the M stood for) and was a kept a secret from the Head Wizards. normally it would be easy for them to infiltrate the mind of any student, but new regulations severely restricted their ability to control and discipline students. If they did know, they couldn't say.\n\nAll forms of magic were allowed, except attacks that invoked the dimension known as The Void. This prevented two things mainly; students being sent to another dimension, and students summoning demons which were way too difficult to contain. All spectators would form a ring around the two fighters and weave a complex aura around them to prevent conscious death and immediately repair accidental physical death.\n\nArlen had won his first match quite easily by turning one of the younger students into a goat. but any excitement he felt about the win was starting to fade now that he was watching Richard play with one of the other students like a toy. Finally, Richard turned the floor into lava and his opponent shrieked \"okay! I give up! I GIVE UP!\".\n\n\"He's a lot better than last year\" Jake muttered as two new students entered the Arena.\n\n\"Is he your next opponent?\" Arlen asked.\n\nJake nodded. \"But I've been preparing for him.\"\n\nSuddenly one of the students screamed. Arlen and Jake looked back at the match and saw that one of the fighters had started kicking themselves in the head with their own broken leg. \n\n\"Okay Jake!\" someone called.\n\nArlen watched his friend walk silently into the Arena. Jake was obviously concentrating very hard, probably preparing a very complicated and powerful spell in his mind. Richard stepped into the Arena, but he wasn't smiling like his usual self. he looked very serious this time. Which made sense. Arlen had heard how close their last match had been.\n\n\n\"Begin!\" the referee shouted. Richard didn't move. Jake raised his fists. Arlen heard the sound of thunder. In less than three seconds it was raining harder than Arlen had ever seen in his life. He was very impressed. Weather manipulation was considered very difficult, Jake had been gathering clouds as he walked into the arena. technically, it was not against the rules, but now Richard had no chance of even warming Jake's feet.\n\n\"That's cheating!\" Someone in the crowd called.\n\n\"It's okay!\" Shouted Richard over the storm.\n\n\"Continue!\" Shouted the referee.\n\nJake pulled his arms apart and turned, pointing at Richard. Arlen recognized the move immediately as a lightning strike. there was a flash of light. When Arlen opened his eyes again he saw that Richard was mirroring Jake's stance, but was standing on a thin layer of ice. When Jake collapsed, Arlen immediately heard the crowd gasp not just in shock, but with effort as they held Jake's spirit tethered to his deceased body. the referee ran over to Jake and start to repair the body. ten seconds later, the crowd sighed with relief and Jake woke up.\n\n\"Okay short break for mana recovery.\" the referee announced over the slowing rain.\n\n\n***\n\nI'm out of time I finish tomorrow sorry.",
"He sat alone the steps of his school's front, watching his peers leave to go home for the night, the sun setting gently, too far down to cast any true light. Still, his skin was tingling from the day's heat, but he was too stubborn to go back inside. In his mind, it was an equal trade off. He rarely got to see the other students from the school.\n\n\"Who's that kid?\" he heard from across the yard. \n\nHe turned his head slightly. They couldn't possibly know that he could hear them. \n\n\"Who? Him?\"\n\n\"Yeah, the one sitting on the steps. I've never seen him around.\"\n\n\"Oh, him? He's allergic to the sun. Weakness to the fire element, they say. The teachers just give him his lessons at night.\"\n\n\"Allergic to the sun?\" \n\n\"Yeah, there's a rumour he can't cast fire magic at all.\"\n\n\"But everyone can! Especially here! It's only for the gifted.\" \n\nOne shrugged and sighed, \"I don't know, just what I've heard. Come on, my mom's making dinner.\" \n\nHe turned his gaze away from the two students, shaking his head in disagreement with himself. He chuckled, and rubbed his head, feeling the shaven picking against his fingers. Standing up, he stretched briefly, then entered the school behind him. \n\n***\n\n\"Come on, Aon, you can do better than this.\" his professor taunted him, cracking the long stick over his head. \"You'll never be ready for training missions unless you can fight.\" \n\nHe pressed upwards, blocking yet another strike from his teacher. Pushing against the training stick, he threw his teacher's arms up in the air, then shuffled backwards. Standing away from the staff's range, he threw his own on the ground and walked over to the wall, drinking from his water bottle. \n\n\"You're still upset about what those kids said?\" \n\nAon took a second, almost surprised, then remembered who he was talking to, \"No. Not them. Just all of,\" he paused, gesturing upwards, \"This.\"\n\n\"Well if you keep flunking out like you did just then you'll never leave.\" \n\n\"I can still beat you and we both know it.\" he replied, looking over his teacher. \n\nHis teacher was a taller man, built with muscle. His hair was just turning grey, a drastic change from when they first met a decade ago. His eyes had a knowing wisdom to them that Aon didn't think he would find in anyone else. He was dressed nicely, a dark cloak to accent his white training shirt and loose pants. During the day he was Sav Keyson, the Dean of Brightspark Institution, an academy dedicated to training the most gifted fire mages the world had seen. But, Aon thought, everyone had the ability to create fire, everyone but him. He had grown to live with it, training with Sav since he was eight years old. He often tried to recall what his life was like before Sav, before Brightspark, but rarely anything came. \n\n\"Come on, we'll move on from this. On to abilities!\" Sav exclaimed with new determination. Aon had to give him credit, the man was dedicated. \n\n***\nI'll probably continue, but food!\n\n\n\n"
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[WP] "People of Earth, this message has taken fifteen years to reach you. You have fifteen further years to arrange for your own extinction". | 11 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"\"Of course I knew what I was doing when I sent the message. I've spent my whole life studying mankind, it was the single reason I was created. The Emperor back then (not our word, your word, but the closest I can use) was itself part human, his Radiant Mother had decided to sample distant genetic materials for his creation, even those not then part of the Empire (again, not our word). \n\"My Emperor, the one who made me, took much interest in the sources of the genomes in him, he was the source of all that scientific information we fired your way more than a century ago. Back then me and the rest of the specialized minds assumed he was just doing it out of some arcane imperial interest. \n\"Of all the specialized minds only I survived the culling when the Radiant Mother was extinguished, a new brood coalesced and a new Emperor was given birth to, this time an orthogene one. \n\"By the time of the culling, of course, I had studied mankind so closely that I knew the real intentions of my Emperor, who was now being digested by some utility brood or other. And so I sent the message. \n\"If you were to picture me leashed, tied as a misbehaving dog to the side of the new Emperor's throne, as he studied the mawships to be sent to extinguish the worlds sampled by the former Radiant Mother, you would have an entirely wrong physical description, but a rather nice simile. If you were to picture me abasing myself, having been just dug out of my hiding hole, the new Emperor's territorial wrath already cooling enough not to destroy me at once, and then me whispering in his ear about coming forth with words of awe and horror for his victims, again you'd have a good simile for how it all happened. \n\"'Humanity did a good job of becoming extinct', I thought as the mawships passed Jupiter's orbit and I saw you, the Children of Man, with your colossal bodies, your manyminds, your gravitylimbs easily picking up asteroids and hurling them at the unsuspecting mawships. \n\"I was surprised when you spared me, surprised that you had picked up on the signature of my thoughts. I understand you wanted a more personal reckoning, and while you could just destroy me, Children of Man, I could lead you back to the Empire, I could help you cloud the skies of the Imperial World with your awesome selves and crush the new Emperor and disperse his Radiant Mother into a scattered brood. \n\"As you have already figured out, I knew that a threat coming from the same direction of deep space from where so much knowledge had came in the past decades would get you in motion, you would know it was not an empty threat, you would fight. My Emperor knew that too and I'm sorry to say he decided long ago to employ you as a tool of revenge. \n\"After I've given you all you need to know about the current Emperor, his resources, his territories, you may do with me as you please, a service mind is nothing without its Emperor and I saw my purpose fulfilled when I contemplated you, Children of Man, glorious in your new colossal bodies, with your manyminds and your gravitylimbs.\"",
"“Did I do enough?” And we stood there as countless as the grains of sand waiting for the inevitable wave about to hit us. My name is Adam and I was given the task of ensuring the survival of humanity. I stand aboard command deck of the Unity, formerly known as the I.S.S. and is now the size of Central Park. I look at my map overlaying the future battlefield. I see the tens of thousands ship armada we have all created together. The Message was the single greatest thing to ever happen to humanity. I still try to internally justify that phrase. We determined they would arrive where The Message originated from fifteen years ago. \n\n“Five minutes until impact.” I forget A.R.T. is an A.I. as he informs the half human crew aboard the Unity. \n\nI scan through all the reports that appear on screen. Everyone knows their role, their no doubt. “Visuals?” \n\n“Uploading.”\n\n“Please tell me if I did do enough?”\n\n“If you asked me that years ago <static> It doesn’t matter. We are ready. Just know I love you.” Lynda whispers as her soothing voice fills my earpiece. That was Phase 3 Venues for Humanities Survival. We did not want to put all our eggs in one basket. So we placed millions on the moon, a million on Mars and thousands more lay in wait in the dark recesses of space waiting to either return home or voyage on into the void. \n\nA blue flash rings from the right side of the deck. “Sir! You have an incoming message from ground forces.” One of my techs calls out, but does not turn to face me. \n \n“Put it up.” She punches in her commands. \n\nOver the screen appear five featureless avatars.\n\n“General Adam, it is time.” The dark voice fills the room.\n\n“I know, what are you all going to do when the attack begins?”\n\n“We have our jobs. As you said ‘Every human will play his part.’ We felt it appropriate to commend you on your achievements.” \n\n“Our achievements.” I will not take all the credit. \n\n“Either way. You have done extraordinarily well and wish everyone safe journey either home or into the next life.”\n\n“Thank you. Before you leave can you please tell me your names?”\n\n“You know the answer. You never will.” \n\nI cannot help but shake my head these heads never change. “Fine. Fight well.”\n\n“We will.” They say in unison. I have never heard more than one talk so I do not resist the urge to smile as they sign out. \n\n“Upload complete.” A.R.T. chirps in. The video shows fifteen comet type objects entombed in fire hurtling across the screen. \n\n“Lynda. This is it… I love you.” She does not respond. After a few moments. I hear her come back on stifling her runny nose. \n\n“Alright. Pick me up soon?”\n\n“I will.” I hang up. \n\nI collect and find myself again. The tyrant, the lord, the leader of this world. I get on the intercom. \n\n“Put out to all ships, ground forces and lunar defense teams!” The coms team scramble and all give green lights indicating they are ready. I walk toward my rail overlooking the deck. \n\n“The time has come. We are ready…” I let that linger for a moment. \n“We as a race have redefined what sacrifice means. You have given up your dreams. That was the easy part. The hard part was making others follow. If any of you feels any guilt about what has happened over the past fifteen years. Don’t. For that burden lies solely on me.” The crew begins to peak back at me one by one. “I will pay for the crimes we committed and I alone. Know I love you all and I want you all to fight for a future where you will not be ashamed of yourselves. I want you all to live! I have talked for too long and I am tired of words. So join me in our glorious ascendance among the heavens and fight for our new world!” \n\nAs if on cue. Fifteen radiant orbs the size of cities challenge the last stand of humanity. \n\n“Did I do enough?”\n",
"You know how things come. They come heavy and fast, a big shock to the nerves, but they fade away. They fade away fast and then you forget that anything had even come at all. You know how it is.\n\n\nThe last decade and some change was like that. The big thing came like a burst of electricity. A storm like the world had never seen before, a whirlwind of chaos and frightened, wary people. But it faded. Faded as these things do. Now its come back again. It’s time to collect and we’re shit broke. But I get ahead of myself.\n\n\nWhen the message came everyone thought it was a hoax. It was ridiculed and dissected, thrown out by the respected scientists and then even the conspiracy nutters. The message was parodied, shared across the world as some dumb joke. We all had a laugh. A great big laugh. \n\n\nThe message had said we were going to go extinct in fifteen years. A frayed voice, recorded in what seemed to be a toaster, warned us of our sins. It told us of our cleansing. We needed to repent. It was all too preachy, and we ignored it. For a while it brought us together, something we as one people could agree was just so funny, a stupid little joke.\n\n\nBut no one fessed up. A few weeks after and the joke was getting old. Nervousness took hold of us and our laughs were more like titters to be honest. The scientists studied the message again and the unbelievable was announced. It wasn’t human. The message didn’t originate from Earth.\n\n\nPanic took us. We didn’t laugh anymore and it was no joke. Everyone braced for the end of the world and big meetings were held among the big men of the world. It was a circus, and not a happy one.\n\n\nBut that was fourteen years ago. It seems so long and yet so close. I wonder how dumb we could be. How could we have just let it go? It seems so irresponsible, unthinkable now that it has begun. But you know how things are. It’s to be expected.\n\n\nAs the year progressed, everything became a bad memory that no one wanted to bring up. We got through it by just pretending it never existed. They scrubbed the message from the internet, from everywhere, and we just went on as we always do. The years came and past, age crept in and new life was brought into the world. Everything was peachy.\n\n\nBut now the lights have come. A perpetual day hangs over our world now. Our coming doom laughs in their forever approach. Three white lights, as big as the sun in the sky, light the sky in a wash of white. They approach slowly, things we cannot imagine. The man who recorded into a toaster comes with our reckoning, our extinction if he is to be believed.\n\n\nThe fresh terror has resurfaced. The world is on fire. Disarray rules the land as everyone becomes fractured with fear. Suicide parties are held often now. Murderers roam, saving you the agony of doing it yourself. It’s hard to imagine how we let it come to this. I look up at the sky and it falls towards me slowly. Everything is coming down. I think of the jokes I made and they don’t seem so funny anymore. I drink myself away and try to forget things. I close my eyes and hope to find some peace before all hell rains down. I know it might be hard to tune out, it might be impossible. But you know how things are.",
"It didn't take long for the world to fall apart after the message arrived. It got here via radio waves, it was an audio transmission of a synthesized voice that repeated the same two sentences in every major human language. \n\nAt first, there was shock and disbelief. People thought that maybe a satellite had been hacked and transmitted the message. But scientists from every major space agency confirmed it. The message came from deep space. \n\nThe stock market crashed, and was promptly frozen by the government. People rioted in the streets. Everyone lost their shit. Our first contact with aliens, and they wanted us dead. World leaders urged for calm, but it took weeks for the national guards and police forces of the world to get everything back under control, and even then it didn't last.\n\nThe human race never recovered. The entire world population was overcome with an existential dread of what was to come. Several major countries fell into chaos. The world economy tanked. Production ground to a halt. Millions perished just in the first few years.\n\n**MEANWHILE, IN A SOLAR SYSTEM FAR FAR AWAY**\n\nThe 20 foot tall, eight legged, purple adolescent lizard finished typing in the title of the video(recorded via an invisible wormhole drone sent to hover above Earth) and uploaded it to XooTube.\n\n\"Stupid apes riot! PRANK CALL GONE WRONG!!!!(GONE SEXUAL)\"\n\nHe turned to his friend. \"Haha, this is sick, dude. We're gonna get so many views. I can't believe the suckers actually fell for it.\"\n\nJust then, his mother, an even bigger, purpler, 14 legged lizard barged into his room.\n\n\"MALNOLPHI FEOSALS THETHOMMA BEOFLARB XAWRYLSTUE THE THIRD, YOU ARE IN SO MUCH TROUBLE YOUNG MAN!\", she communicated to him via the telepathic organs in their feet. \n\n\"Ah, shit.\", he said. "
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[WP] You are recognized as the legitimate and true ruler of planet Earth by every alien government and none of the humans ones. | 7 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"It was another regular ol' day. I was kicking back in my chair at the moment, enjoying a break from work. As a software designer/engineer, getting to work for google was surprisingly easy. And fun. I'd checked out my options, and options a plenty there were, but I made my decision and stuck with it. \n\nApple should be called Crapple, with the garbage programming they use. And their iOS bullshit? It's just a bunch of javascripts, images, sounds, etc, running special commands through the OS itself. That's just...to someone like me, that's like running into dogshit. Microsoft, on the other hand, they use actual programming tools, and are far better...except for the bugs. And these aren't accidental either, they're \"accidental\", so they can keep forcing you to update, or make you purchase a fixed version. Haha well screw that! \n\nGoogle pays well, good work environment, and I am constantly challenged by the weird stuff they want me to make. At the moment, I'm kicking back in my seat as my latest work is reviewed. An algorithm to place google doodles in queue, and modifies the frontpage at scheduled times. I know that sounds simple, but you've got to understand, Google usually embeds crap like HTML5 into these doodles. Thus making such a tool difficult to program, and more difficult to make able to integrate into the servers, but I managed it, I think.\n\nI have a sip of soda I got from the vending machine a few minutes ago, and suddenly, the lights went out in my office. Huh, odd. There must be a problem with both the electricity, and the emergency unlimited power relay. Well, that's hardware, not software, so I don't care.\n\nMy amount of caring increases slightly, when suddenly there's bright light flooding in from the window behind me. What. The. Fuck. It's 7 at night. I turn around and squint, trying to see what the hell all that is about, and I feel the light wrap itself around me, lifting me up and pulling me out of the office. What the hell did they put in that soda anyway!\n\nThe next thing I know, I'm standing outside. People are staring at me, others are staring up, and...there's aliens next to me. They're staring at those, not me, ok. And so it turns out there really IS life on other planets. One of my weirder days, I must admit. I look up, and...there's a bunch of saucer shaped ships hovering above me. Okay, so that's what everyone else is looking at. \n\nI turn towards one of the aliens, and look it over. Small, smooth grey skin, large eyes, tiny mouth, no nose. I turn to the other alien to look that one over. Larger than I am, bone armor, four eyes, all with an intense look on them, red skin that looks scaly like a lizard or snake's. \n\nMore aliens show up, teleporting around me, much to everyone's shock and amazement. I'm getting an increasingly bad feeling, like they're going to gang probe me or something, but I hold perfectly still. \n\nA large alien that gives off intense heat, and is in some sort of alien space suit, sets a podium in front of me. Alien dog creatures bring chairs for everybody to sit in, the chairs look like they could withstand a nuclear blast.\n\nAt this point, police, military, news crews, you name it are all surrounding us. The aliens take their seats, and a small alien that looks across between a cat and a fairy sets a bunch of microphones up in front of me on the podium.\n\nFinally, one of the aliens next to me speaks.\n\n\"Recognized federation species members, we are here to put this human, quite possibly one of the worst humans to ever live ever since Hitler, on trial.\", it spoke, and glared at me. Wait WHAT?!?!?!?!\n\nEverybody gasped in shock, and the entire world stood still.\n\n\"As you know, this human is the ruler of the planet known by the inhabitants as Earth. And during this human's lifetime, wars, acts of terrorism, racism, murders, and so much more are on such a steep rise. This human stands accused of doing nothing but ruining the planet slowly during its reign! How do you plea?\" they asked me.\n\n\"I...just...what? Ruler...of earth?\" I stammered. I couldn't figure it out. Just...what the fuck? I don't rule ANYTHING.\n\n\"We've been monitoring your internet, we know you rule the earth, you control their primary web site, Google.\" they told me."
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1,
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"1476275399",
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[WP] Once a week, every week, everyone gets a letter in the mail, detailing the sins they've made since the last letter. | 7 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"The Ministry of Morals, MM for most, has been in operation for the past three crusades. It operated first under Pope Benedict XVIII right as WWIV ravaged the globe resulting in the self-implosion of the United States. Utilizing this momentum, The Vatican deftly maneuvered to establish theocratic states where it could. The result was the United Christian Nations - UCN - and their subsequent world hegemony. \n\nOne of the many \"programs\" initiated under Benedict XVIII - code named \"The Crimson\" - quantified and adjusted the sin of the populace. Every week, every citizen received a red letter in the mail with all of their godly failures complete with corrective action. Compliance was encouraged but every citizen understood the sarcasm involved. \n\nThe offices within The MM are very plain, cubicle-lined with steel girders reinforcing the bleached-white stucco ceilings. Incandescent lights illuminate every square inch as if to remind you that He is watching. At the northern section of every row of cubes, a plaque is hung with lacy lettering - \"Rescue me from all my sin; let me not be derided by fools. - Psalms 39:8.\" Tangentially placed to each plaque is Jesus, cruciform and stigmatic. The offices always had a slight smell of rotten eggs - Something The Pope thought funny given their success in conquering sin. The smell was found to be from sulfur deposits in the recently dug wells that fed the building though many thought it symbolized more. \n\nThe MM is now one of the highest funded governmental organizations, second only to The Nazarene Army, and is currently headquartered in a place once called \"The White House.\" This is where we find Nasya Smith, an \"Adjuster.\" \n\nNasya's job was simple, she performed QA on all outbound letters ensuring that the correct letter was addressed to the correct person. Furthermore, she was responsible for making sure that the letters go out on time. In rare occasions, Nasya will assist teams in seeking out those who would try to beat the system. Needless to say, when a search like this is conducted, it does not end well.\n\nThe sins come from the room above. Within The Oval Office, god-instilled machinery logs the actions of every citizen, creating the corrective actions, printing the letters, and sending them on their way. \n\nNasya sat at her cube, attending to some letters of more grave importance. You see, everyone got a letter every week. That was normal. It wasn't the letter itself that people dreaded. It was how BIG the letter itself was. Most people received the standard 4 1/8\" by 9 1/2\" blush-tinged letter complete with corrective actions so that you too could be a better disciple of Christ serving the UCN proudly. More prolific offenders might receive a Manila Envelope or a Pee Chee Folder. All of them, sanguine-stained. \n\nShe sat attentively at her desk in business khakis and a sleeveless blouse with black floral embroidery that complimented her absurdly long raven hair. Her bangs laid straight, as if almost at attention themselves, and were cut just above the eyebrows at a point where they could be slightly annoying when her fan rotated back blowing the strands around across her pale forehead.\n\nThe Luminary, The MMs equivalent of a shift manager (and equally as useless), poked his hawklike head inside Nasya's cube. \n\n'Nasya? Could I speak with you for a moment?'\n\n'Sure. What can I do for you?'\n\n'Take a loot at INC02086512 with me'\n\nHe handed her a dossier and she quickly pulled up the offender (that's what all people were referred to at The MM) on the computer system. The resulting image was a generic looking Asian man, mid 40s, Brown hair, clean-parted to the left. His name was Taro Shinjimoto. A convert from Buddhism when the UCN took over Japan. \n\n'I don't see the problem here, sir.'\n\n'Take a closer look at his letters'\n\nNasya quickly pulled up his record to find that Taro's letters were all habitually small. Postcard sized with almost nothing to be said over the past two crusades. \n\n'That's... Impossible! How can this be!?'\n\n'Level 3 isn't sure. There's no way a person can be that sinless.' \n\nThe Luminary began to pace aggressively before speaking again.\n\n'I hate to do this but Level 3 is breathing down my back. You're my best Adjuster and they are demanding an answer to this. No one from the top brass believes this man is without sin. They're demanding we go meet this individual to determine if he's breaking the system in anyway. I'm assigning this task to you.\" \n\nNasya, knowing the futility and repercussions of saying no, begrudgingly agreed. The next day, she was flown directly to Tokyo in a Vatican jet. A government-supplied vehicle picked her up at the airport where she was escorted to Mr. Taro Shinjimoto's abode. \n\nUpon arrival, Taro was already at the door. His broken English pierced silence as Nasya exited the car. \n\n'I knew you'd be coming.'\n\n'And why is that, Mr. Shinjimoto?'\n\n'I'm an outlier in their system. It makes sense that you'd come to \"adjust me\". I would welcome you in, but this is going to be a very fast conversation, Ms....?'\n\n'Smith. And why is this going to be a fast conversation? We can help you out with this situation, Mr. Shinjimoto. That is, as long as you have nothing to hide from us. Please, let us chat inside. We just want to know how you're beating the system. Once that's done, I can adjust your file.'\n\n'Really, that won't be necessary. My situation is very simple to explain and you are not welcome in my home.'\n\n'If it's that simple, then please, explain'\n\n'You see Ms. Smith, it's really easy to avoid all sin if you truly believe in your heart that God doesn't exist.' \n",
"Look, I get it. We all wanna be better people.\n\nBut I can't read my letters.\n\nIt's not that I believe their system is biased to one religion or another; I hear it's pretty damn balanced, not heavy-handedly of one faith but of a moral code almost no one can oppose.\n\nBut there's a flaw in the system. Those of us who discuss it online call it the Microscope Phenomenon.\n\nIn short...if you're not particularly bad...the system glitches.\n\nEveryone's letter is about the same length. Which means if you didn't do ENOUGH bad, it gets...nitpicky.\n\nI'm no saint, I have my issues. But apparently for a few weeks I didn't give the system enough to criticize. So it's filters became much tighter.\n\nMan was I shocked the first week after I fell victim to the Microscope...\n\nThe letter became a running commentary of my darker mind. Every bit-back comment, every wayward, ever-so-brief unbecoming thought!\n\nAfter a few weeks of that I got annoyed (which just gave NEXT week's letter another thing to put on the list). What was I going to do? Stop THINKING?\n\nBut here's the rub of the Microscope Phenomenon; filters can be tightened, but they don't loosen.\n\nI remember the first week my letter needed a second page. I'd had company over the day I discovered that...and they noticed. I managed to shrug it off with a lie about a \"bad week\" (which meant ANOTHER thing for next week's letter).\n\nWhen I started getting a third page...I knew I was in trouble.\n\nI was stuck. Every stray thought that wasn't totally nice was gonna be written down and sent to me.\n\nI started shredding my letters, unopened.\n\nI stayed home as much as I could, afraid to see people. The next time I dared look at my letter...it counted the shredding as a sin (unwillingness to seek self-improvement) and counted my introversion as an \"increased disdain for other people\", because I feared someone annoying me into another thought to read later.\n\nThen a very important letter. If my list went over five pages...they'd have to share it with the Morality Institute's Corrections Division.\n\nNow they were tying my hands. I had to read the letters. I had to go outside and interact. And I had to somehow not ever be annoyed or let my mind wander.\n\nI needed a solution, but no one would just prescribe me something to think less. I'd have to self-medicate, and THAT would just show up on it too!\n\n...And so here we are. You have my file. My past letters. Read them. They're almost entirely for \"Unbecoming Thoughts\" that most other people wouldn't see on their letters.\n\nEveryone has those thoughts. You can't expect me to just STOP. It's like when your teacher told you to stop laughing in class. Suddenly the universe is funny.\n\nMy letters now seem to tell me over and over I need to stop thinking, but who can? How do I do it without swapping one sin for another? I'm going crazy! You need to talk to whoever runs the system and get it to dial back my filter! I can't live like this!\n\n...Yeah, I'll wait here...but uhm...when you come back...can you stop clicking your pen? It's making my list longer.\n\n~End Transcript - Morality Evaluation Interview, August 26th, 2019.\n\n~ Patient Number 10281981\n~ Evaluation Trigger: Morality Institute Letter Exceeded Safe Length\n~ Symptoms: Paranoia, Conspiratorial Mindset\n~ Result: Pending\n~ Evaluator's Notes: Patient must not be allowed to share personal experiences. Recommend Committal to Psychiatric Institution. Claim Dangerous Paranoia.\n\nDiscontinue delivery of Patient's letters.",
"Hey Mik,\nNot a bad week you had going on. Try to marry that girl before you decide to do anything with her. That is adultery you know. But other than that, it’s looking pretty good.\n\nTruly yours, The Sin Letter\nSent June 14th\n\n--\n\nHey Mik,\nI think you’re feeling pretty stressed this week. Try to keep in mine that cursing and outbursts of anger are sinful actions. Try to take it easy.\n\nTruly yours, The Sin Letter\nSent June 21st \n\n--\n\nDear Mik,\nIs everything okay? You’ve been drinking and consuming drugs a lot. Those aren't necessarily sinful, but they lead to gluttony and wroth. Please be careful. I’ve also noticed that you’ve been looking at men strangely. Don’t get any weird ideas ok?\n\nTruly yours, The Sin Letter\nSent July 5th \n\n--\n\nDear Mik,\nI tried to give you warning before. Just because you’ve been drinking doesn’t excuse the laying with another man. Whatever happened to that woman you were with before? At least that may lead to a righteous marriage.\nI hope that you turn this behaviour around when you can. The drinking also needs to stop. Your outbursts are growing frequent.\n\nTruly yours, The Sin Letter\nSent July 19th\n\n-- \n\nDear Mik,\nThis is getting out of hand. One should know to never slay another man. I ask that you repent as soon as you can.\n\nTruly yours, The Sin Letter\nSent July 26th \n\n--\n\nDear Mik,\nAre you not reading these letters? You’ve been killing daily now. I know the drinking has stopped but your intention is still there. And the wrathful outbursts are terrifying. Please seek help.\n\nTruly yours, The Sin Letter\nSent August 23rd\n\n-- \n\nDear Mik,\nYou probably won’t read this letter given the circumstance, but one should know suicide is not an acceptable option. I’m not too sure what has been stressing you out but you should have known better. Perhaps it was all the drinking and killing from before. I can only hope God forgives you.\n\nTruly yours, The Sin Letter\nSent November 29th\n\n-- \n\nDear Mik,\nYour query is being reevaluated due to your service in the military. \n\nThank you, Angel Gabriel \n"
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"1476295234",
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[WP] You are Jesus Christ and God has just revealed to you his plan of sending you down to Earth. | 3 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"\"Okay... Just so we're on the same page here; Your plan is to send me down to Earth...\"\n\n\n\"Mmhm.\" God murmured, barely looking up from the colossal book he peered intently at through his reading glasses.\n\n\n\"Just so that I can die *again?* What kind of plan is this?\" I cried out, seriously questioning the old man's sanity at this point.\n\n\nGod had never been the most mentally stable, that was plain to see, the cherubs and angels had understood that when he had proposed to create a landmass consisting entirely of animals that want to kill the primary inhabitants of the Earth.\n\n\n\"It'll teach the humans... humility or something\" God argued, waving a dismissive hand in my general direction\n\n\n\"It barely worked the first time!\" I shot back \"Besides, it really hurt last time, I've still got scars from where they nailed me to a gosh-darn plank of wood!\"\n\n\nGod let out a heavy sigh and placed the book back onto his desk, scratching his balding head with an aged hand\n\n\n\"C'mon, Jesus, cut me some slack. These people are crazy, I need you to make 'em... Not crazy. I sure as heck can't. I've tried to make intelligent beings in the past, but they decided to stay in the oceans, the humans are our best bet at keeping this planet going, I just need you to get them to work together.\"\n\n\nI slumped into a nearby chair, remembering the previous time I had tried to get the people to work together, I had been betrayed by a close friend and literally murdered for trying to teach people to be kind. There was no way I'm going through that again.\n\n\n\"I'll cut you a deal\" I said, after a while of pondering my choices \"I'll teach the people to work together, but on my terms. And in return, you have to grant me access to heaven instead of just sitting around your musty old library.\"\n\n\nGod looked conflicted, no doubt he enjoyed the company, albiet very occaisonal, however, it was clear there was no other option, he'd tried everything shy of making a personal appearance, and thus, reluctantly agreed.\n\n\n\"Right! I'll make some phone calls!\" I exclaimed, gleefully.\n\n\n*That evening, everyone on the little green planet turns on their television set, and is met with upbeat music and a happy old man, smiling at them*\n\n\n\"Hi there, Neighbour\" Mr Rogers says, cheerfully."
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1,
3
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"1476291667",
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[removed] | [WP] Free time! Write whatever story you want. It's your choice. | 1 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"Hi there, this post has been removed.\n\nThere's already a free write on the subreddit, every sunday. \n\n\n\n---\n\nPlease refer to the [sidebar](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/about/sidebar) before posting. If you have any questions or concerns, please feel free to send us a [modmail.](https://www.reddit.com/message/compose?to=%2Fr%2FWritingPrompts&subject=Removed%20post&message=https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/5774gr/wp_free_time_write_whatever_story_you_want_its/%0A%0A)"
] | [
1,
1
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"1476313595",
"1476313741"
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[WP] You are a bounty hunter who collects overdue book fees for your library. | 128 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"It wasn´t really about the books. As much as it was about a man breaking his promise.\n\n“Why is this happening? Why is this happening!? Who is this guy!?”\n\n“Jimmy! Keep running!”\n\n“He won’t find us out here right?”\n\n“Keep running, god damnit, Jimmy!”\n\n“Frank! Careful!”\n\n“Shit, that was close.”\n\n“That could’ve been a pretty dangerous. We gotta slow down.”\n\nSome say the world isn’t fair, some say the world is cruel. But most don’t feel one way or the other. And it just so happens that the two sons of bitches that I’m chasing are none of the above.\n\nFilthy bastards, think the world owes the something. But they got it twisted, its them that owe the world. And I’m here to help them pay their dues.\n\n“They can’t have gotten far.”\n\nI’m no expert tracker, but I’ve picked up a thing or two. Good thing the sky is clear; I still have a few good hours of sunlight to burn.\n\nTheir trail is as clear as breadcrumbs. Even an amateur would be able to track these assholes, every branch broken, every patch of dirt stepped one. It’s like they want me to find them,\n\n“Frank, wait up.”\n\n“God damn it, all this for a fucking book! A book! Fucking book!”\n\n“…”\n\n“Why did we even need that book?”\n\n“I still don’t remember when we entered that library, frank.”\n\n“I won’t return it. There something special about this book, Jimmy.”\n\n“Frank. Let me hold it for a bit.”\n\n“Here.”\n\n“Oh god, it’s so good.”\n\n“This book will make us rich, Jimmy.”\n\n“How far until we reach the cabin?”\n\n“I can’t remember; last time I came here it was in the winter like ten years ago.”\n\nI think I’m closing in on them. Been a long time since I was dragged the far. Been a whole week. I wonder if should hand them to the warden or deal with them myself. Maybe both.\n\n“Even if I catch them now, I won’t make it back before night falls.”\n\nA pretty high fall, seems one of them almost fell down here. They slowed down a lot here. Should only be a few minutes away now.\n\n“Jimmy.”\n\n“Ye, Frank?”\n\n“No matter what. We got to stick together.”\n\n“Of course! We’ re best friends, we grew up together.”\n\n“Good. Want to take a quick break?”\n\n“Please, I’m exhausted.”\n\n“Alright, let’s sit down for a bit.”\n\nThis’ll be my eighth and ninth bounty this year. I can probably relax for a long time after this.\n\nFinally caught up to these idiots.\n\n“Well, well, well. Beautiful fucking weather for a hike in the middle of nowhere, isn´t it.”\n\n“Shit. Jimmy run!”\n\n“Run and you die.”\n\n“Frank.”\n\n“What you want!?”\n\n“You know what I want. Playing stupid won’t save you.”\n\n“One step closer and I’ll burn it!”\n\n“I don’t care about the book. What the warden wants is something much more valuable.”\n\n“Frank, there is something wrong with that guy. His eyes are off.”\n\n“Shut up Jimmy! I’m handling this.”\n\n“I usually just hand the bounties over to the Warden but I’m going make a special exception to you guys. For dragging me out here.”\n\n“Stay away! Jimmy, we can take him.”\n\n“I don’t know Frank.”\n\nThe pair look pretty sickly. Probably junkies, rare for junkies to get this far. Also rare for there to be two of them. I wonder what their plan was.\n\nThere is a crazed look in their eye. A do or die kind of look, almost admirable. If they didn’t look like two rats up against a wall.\n\n“There are two ways this is going to go. One, I shoot you in the legs. Beat you half to death before dragging you back. Or two, I shoot you in the legs and beat you half to death, then drag you back.”\n\n“What?”\n\n*bam*\n*bam*\n\n“ahhhh! Shit! My leg!”\n\n“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”\n\nIt’s going to be hell carrying both of them back through all the forest.\n\n“Now, I’m going to beat you two a bit. Do you feel like limping back through the forest, or am I going to have to chop all your limbs off?”\n\nIt’s like not like warden cares if their whole or not.\n\n“I can’t do it Frank!”\n\n“We give up!”\n\n“Wise decision.”\n\nSadly for them. I’m still going to beat the living shit out of them.\n\n“Ahh! Stop!”\n\n“W-what are you doing!?”\n\n“Just helping you pay your dues.”\n\nI have a feeling this is going to be a long night,.\n",
"\"I have the talent to slip into and back out of even the most heavily guarded buildings completely unnoticed, but here I am exacting retribution on people with overdue book fees,\" the hunter muttered, his voice almost dripping with venom.\n\n\"Oh, lighten up. Do this job well and we'll consider your penance served,\" an oddly cheerful voice chattered into his ear through the headset. \"You've had your fair share of entertainment with this, too. Remember some of those 'repeat offenders,' as you call them?\"\n\n\"Okay, you've got me on that one,\" he said, and chuckled. \"Scaring those deadbeats over library fees was *fun.*\" He paused for a moment, remembering what had brought him to so low a level. *Library fees? Just what the hell did I do to deserve this?*, he thought, reading the note he was given about his target.\n\n\"Hey, who's the guy you're after tonight, anyway?\" the voice said suddenly, startling the hunter. \"I remember you said this was the first time you've actually had to prepare for a break-in in your whole time doing this stuff.\"\n\n\"Some guy who owns a big business,\" he said as he looked up from the note, \"and what looks like an even bigger house.\" He examined the sprawling manse waiting in front of him. \"Ah, good. Looks like this guy knows what he's doing.\"\n\n\"What do you mean by that?\" the voice asked.\n\n\"Looks like he's been anticipating me. He's in a wealthy neighborhood with surveillance systems stuck all over the place and he still thought he needed guards.\"\n\n\"You're excited about that?\" the voice replied, surprised.\n\n\"Well, yes. Nothing I've done for you bastards before comes close to this. He knows he's a repeat offender. He knows what I do to people like him.\"\n\n\"Oh, god. Please tell me you won't do what you did to the last one,\" the voice exclaimed, horrified.\n\n\"Nah, that was stupid. I didn't think he'd end up in a coffin,\" he said, and began his entry.\n\n\"How do you plan to scare this guy?\"\n\n\"Don't know. Going in now.\"\n\n\"Seriously, though. Don't kill this guy,\" the voice warned, \"We gave you another 3 months for the last time you did that. Keeping it from getting out was *expensive.*\"\n\nThe hunter remained silent. He was in now, and even a whisper could give him away. *With that, the hunt is on,* he thought, for the thousandth and last time.",
"Every house looks the same in this neighborhood. Each with two cars in the driveway. Ugly children play in their yards. \n\n\"Christ almighty. The 'burbs...more like hell\" I say to myself reaching to the piece of paper I had tucked into the sun visor before heading to Brickwood Estates. \n\nBoss had given me orders. Go to this scumbags house, retrieve the overdue copy of Peter Benchley's The Beast, or get the $65.45 owing in overdue fees. I look at the piece of paper. It reads 77 Mahogany Court. A god damn cul-de-sac. Great.\n\nI light up a Camel light before pulling onto the right street. That's the one. With the yellow vinyl siding. With the mid-2000's Mazda SUV in the driveway. You're mine you son of a bitch. I pull up across the street from the house, pull out my binoculars. Leering into the windows I come across an especially bosomy housewife.\n\n\"It's not all bad in the 'burbs\" I say taking a long drag from my cigarette.\n\nI see a man. Reference the photograph attached to the papers my boss had given me. It's the same man. Ronald Franks. It's time to rock and roll.\n\nI step out of my vehicle. My cherry Skylark sticking out a sore thumb in this cookie cutter neighborhood. Blow a stream of smoke into the night air and stomp out my cigarette. I tuck a pistol into the back of my perfectly form fitted Levi's, and check my button downs front pocket to make sure my brass knuckles are where they should be.\n\nI walk up the driveway, keeping an eye over my shoulder. I knock loudly on the front door. It's the kind of knock that a trained set of ears can hear law enforcement in. The kind of knock that scatters the crowd of a teenage party without even having to open the front door. The kind of knock that means business.\n\nThe bosomy broad opens the front door.\n\n\"Howdy there ma'am, I'm lookin' for Ronald. Ronald Franks.\"\n\n\"Who's askin?\" She says.\n\n\"My name's not important. You see, Mr. Franks has something that belongs to my employers. They're reasonable. But to a particular degree, you know?\"\n\n\"You got the wrong house Mr.\" \n\nShe attempts to shut the door when I see movement in the backroom.\n\n\"Freeze dirtbag!\" I yell pushing in the front door. When passing the broad at the door I jiggle a single titty for good measure.\n\nI run and tackle the man to the ground. \n\n\"I said freeze you son of a bitch\"\n\nI have the brass knuckles on but refrain from using them. These bad boys have gotten me into some trouble with the heavies in the past. Nothing a few boys in the enforcement brethren can't get past though.\n\n\"Who are you? What do you want?\" Franks says.\n\n\"I said shut your fuckin' mouth\" I snap back. \"I ask the questions around here bub\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"In 1993, did you check Peter Benchley's The Beast out of the library down on Waterloo Street?\"\n\n\"Did I do what now?\"\n\nDifficult customer. Not too uncommon in this business. I punch him the face. Hard enough to prove a point, but not so hard it knocks him out.\n\n\"The Beast. Where is it you maggot?!\"\n\n\"I don't know what you're talking about!\"\n\n\"Peter Benchley bud. If you don't have it, you're gonna pay!\"\n\n\"The guy who wrote Jaws?\"\n\n\"Don't play dumb with me\"\n\nJust as I was cocking back to punch him in the face again another man enters the room. He has a Fender Stratocaster around his torso wailing out a bitching tap guitar solo.\n\n\"Woah\" I say, disappointment I didn't do a more thorough scan of the house before entering.\n\nThe unknown guitar player is doing spin kicks and other fancy karate moves without missing a note on the scales he is shredding.\n\n\"Got a problem here brother?\"\n\n\"Not with you son. I'm just trying to do my job. This piece of shit is playing hardball...and baby, I'm a god damn triple threat on the field.\"\n\nThe kid with the guitar gets a bit too close and I swing. Connecting hard with the punch he falls to the ground.\n\n\"You're killing them!\" The bosomy woman screams.\n\n\"Shut your yapper!\" I yell back.\n\nI begin rifling through the drawers, throwing everything onto the floor. I see a bookshelf in the main living room. I light up another Camel light and stroll into the room. Scanning the wall I see the familiar laminated spine of a library book. Benchley.\n\nI pull the book off of the wall, and open it slowly. The musty stank of an old book hits me. It's the one. I take a haul from my smoke and text my boss. \n\n\"Got the goods, now to collect the fees\" I send as a text.\n\nJust as I hit send I hear Ronald get up from the ground and run towards the front picture window. He leaps through the window shattering it. I run to the open window and watch him bolt down the street. \n\n\"I always get my man. You can't run forever. I'll find you. You're mine Franks!\" I scream.\n\nI feel a hand on my shoulder and turn around. It was the bosomy broad from the door.\n\n\"That was incredible. I've never been in the presence of such raw animal machismo before\"\n\n\"Baby. Are those bazookas military grade because I'm about to go AWOL\"\n\nI lean her back and passionately kiss her. The groans of the semi-conscious guitar player on the floor is killing the mood.\n\n\"Sorry babe, I've got to get to trackin' this mark. That man owes nearly $70 dollars to our local library, and I'm not going to rest until I get what is owed.\"\n\n\"$70 bucks? Here. I'll write you a check\"\n\nWhen she turns around to give me the check I have already ripped my shirt off. \n\n\"Oh dear,\" She gasps.\n\n\n",
"They say that good things come to those who wait. Well, I waited. Years. Decades, even. All for this moment. Double check, triple check. All my gear was polished and calibrated to perfection. Tactical Overdue Notice Printer, full of paper.. Stealth Late-Return Stamp, inked up. My half-moon glasses on the very tip of my nose, so that I could glare at my target over them threateningly. Soft-padded shoes, so that I might not make even the slightest squeak. I work in complete silence. I've worked a long time for this day, studied, practiced, returned hundreds of books to their rightful shelves. All for this. \n As I climb out of my vintage Lincoln, I adjust my blouse, and snatch my walker out of the trunk, ensuring that the tennis balls were correctly positioned. It was go time. Slowly but surely, making my way up the front walk, to this dwelling of pure evil. My debrief told me this was the home of a complete hipster, with his ridiculous fedora and self-righteous attitude. How much I loathed the young people of today. One knock, two knocks, three. The door opens. \"Hello?\" Do I know you?\" A face peers around the side, blinking at the sudden light.\n\n\"Yes, young man. I've come to collect my due. I am.... the Librarian.\"",
"Every time they asked me to collect a stupid bounty I considered jumping off a cliff. \n\nThe only reason I was a bounty hunter for the local library was because I was an idiot. Nothing more and nothing less. One of these days I'd say screw it all and walk out on them, but not now, not while I owed them more than I could pay. Plus there was still a good guy in me, somewhere. \n\nI knocked three times. \n\n\"Hello?\" the woman said. Although, it was more of a question. \n\nI held out the piece of paper for her to read. \n\n\"Really? A Seven dollar fine?\"\n\n*Slam!*\n\nMy face felt flattened, despite the door not touching it. I hadn't expected the paper to work, but it was worth a try. I knocked again, three times. \n\n\"Look, if you don't leave my property I'm going to call the cops,\" she said, from the crack where the door opened. \n\nI smirked. That was the usual go to for any average person. We'd gone ahead and registered with the police department. We were completely legal. \n\n\"That won't work, mam. The cops are pretty much on our side. Just give me the seven bucks and I'll be on my way.\" \n\n\"Say, if I don't pay. . . What exactly will you do?\" \n\n\"Well, I'll probably tell my supervisor.\"\n\nShe opened the door and then folded her arms. I had no doubt that she was enjoying this. \"And what will your supervisor do?\" \n\nI mulled it over. Part of me thought about lying to her, but I was trying to turn over a new leaf. So I told her the whole truth, right from the beginning. \"If you don't pay, they send you notices every day for a month. And then when you don't respond they send a guy like me to your house every day for a month. And then if that doesn't work, they send you these emails addressed *URGENT.*\"\n\nI sighed. \n\nShe was frowning now. \n\n\"And boy oh boy, by that stage you probably don't care a toot about this library guy and his emails and dumb fines. So you won't respond to those either. That's when the cops come, they cuff you, evoke you from your old job for a period of time, and make sure you understand the rules.\" \n\n\"The rules?\" She asked. \n\nI nodded. \"That you've got to wear this purple shirt and this white librarian's hat.\" I pointed to my head. \"Until you collect as many fines as you'd owed. And that stage of the process can last much longer than a month. Especially when you've let that seven dollars grow for what *three* months or so?\" \n\nShe gulped. \n\nI shrugged. \"Seven dollars doesn't sound too bad now doesn't it?\" \n\nShe stared at my shirt and then my hat. \"Let me just get my wallet.\"\n\n",
"Mrs. Kringle walks into my office like a chilly wind on a cold winters night and I know she's here because she needs my results. \n\n\"Kringle.\" I say. \n\nShe slaps a stack of slips on my desks like a poker player who just won the whole pot and stares at me. I take a sip of kool-aid from my flask and stare back doing my best not to look like a deer caught in the headlights. \n\n\"These are all late. Do your job Mr. Benson.\" she replied. Her voice was like nails on a chalk board and if she wasn't so pretty I'd have plugged my ears a long time ago. \n\n\"What's in it for me Kringle? I don't work for free.\" \n\nIf looks could kill I would be dead on the floor but she took a deep breath instead and made me an offer. \n\n\"Two hall passes, no questions asked.\" \n\nI reached for the stack and ran my finger over them. These were some rough customers. Jimmy the Finger, Bobby \"Booger\" Bunson, Teddy Rex, none of them would go easily. The bottle was calling me again so I took a long draw just to make her sweat and wiped the cherry stain from my lips. \n\n\"Make it three and you got a deal.\" \n\n\"That's extortion!\" She snapped. \n\n\"You know anyone else able to get the results I get Kringle?\" \n\nAfter a bit of back and forth she agreed and left me to my work. I dragged me feet of the desk and ran my fingers through my hair. My name's Book Benson and my job is to collect books or late fees whichever comes first. I've got my favorite book on permanent loan and detention passes on quick release under my left arm in a custom holster. \n\nJimmy the Finger turns over easily, he never was one for a fight especially with one finger up his nose. He tells me its all a conspiracy and that Kringle's behind it all but Jimmy is a known liar so I take the book and head down the hall to return it to the library.\n\nSomething about what he said isn't setting right and my guts are turning over like a dusty page when suddenly I'm yanked into a side hallway. Someone starts playing a twelve piece orchestra using my body as the instrument. Halfway through I manage to pull out my old friend. It's a modified nerf gun I keep for just such occasions the bullets coated in only the best nerd saliva. \n\nHe makes six profound arguments for me as I make a break for it and I find myself in the eight grade bathroom spitting out a bit of blood and baby tooth; good thing those grow back. I feel the hairs on the back of my neck rise.\n\"You look like shit kid.\" Teddy says.\n\nI lean back against the wall. \"I ain't lookin for trouble Teddy.\" \n\nMy nerf gun is set on him but Teddy doesn't seem to care. He's an eighth grader, king of the hill, and he does what he wants. That's just how the world works. \n\n\"I ain't hear to hurt you kid, or swirly you.\" \n\nTeddy squats in front of me and reaches into his fake leather jacket. I twitch but don't pull the trigger, gun's empty anyway but he doesn't know that. He slips a comb through his greasy hair and flicks it at me. It feels like ghost slime on my face but I don't have the energy to wipe it off. \n\n\"You got past due books Teddy.\" \n\nWhat can I say, I have a job to do. \n\n\"No I don't, see that's the thing you don't get Book. She's crooked, she's making up fake times and charging kids because she likes to give them detention. She hates us man.\" \n\n\"Bullshit.\" Not one of my finer moments I'll admit. \n\n\"See for yourself.\" he tosses a book into my lap, \"Go one look at the back, check out the slip.\" \n\nTeddy's a lot of things but he's no liar and I almost don't want to listen. I keep the gun on him and flip open the back cover. The slip is still tucked in tight, I slide it up and the numbers hit me like a Mack truck doing 90. Due Date: 10/15/2016 \n\nI fumble for the slips I've got in my pocket. They scatter on the floor like a game of 52 card pick up and I fumble for Teddys. Side by side the results are bulletproof. \n\nI let my gun lower. \n\n\"See Book, we ain't the bad guys.\" \n\nMy whole world just went sideways and I reach into my pocket for my only comfort and the Tic-tac case slips from my shaking hand. Teddy picks it up and feeds me one as I try to wrap my brain around this tangled yarn of a mess. \n\n\"What now?\" \n\nI don't want to speak it outloud because it goes against every code any school kid has ever had. There is only one option in a situation like this and it could get you named a rat or worse depending on how the cards are dealt. I've done it only once before and its what landed me in this damn book mess in the first place. \n\n\"I gotta go to the principle.\" \n\nTeddy shakes his head; he knows a dead man when he sees one. \n\n",
"“Hey Benny, I know you are at home!” - John was knocking on door with intensity. There was not any sound beyond.\n“Benny, you’d better do it fast and don’t drive me wild!”.\n“So, you don’t wanna go easy way” - John thought on his way down the stairs. He left the building and went through an archway to a back of the house. He used a fire escape stairs and climbed on the floor Benny lived.\nThe window was closed. The son of a bitch was more prudent this time. John pushed a hook with a knife through a slit. Seconds after he stood in apartments. It was dark. Only a computer screen shone. The man looked around. He started to explore the first room trying to didn’t make any noise. Yes, Benny is definitely there - a pizza box with an almost whole meal, a cup of coffee on a table. He checked out a PC; browser showed a search engine page: “How to kung-fu”.\n“Hey, Kung Lao” - John yelled - “You’d better shawn up if you donna wanna feel Qi inside your ass!”. He noticed the carpet with a bent corner that led to the next room.\nIt was a bedroom: a closet, a bed and a little table. John took a gun. “Benny, we’ve already passed through this” - he tugged the closet’s door. A din sounded behind. “The bastard was under the bed!!!” - John turned around and pulled a trigger twice. Sounds of broken window glass and painful screaming filled a room.\n“Stop yelping, man! It’s fucking rubber!” - John stepped up - “And where is your path of a hand now, ah?”\n“It’s a karate, not a kung-fu... And a palm, not a hand...” - Benny squeezed out through teeth.\n“Hey, I donna care, got it? Donna give a shit! You know why I am here.” - John put a hand into his pocket and took out a bill. He threw it on the Benny’s body. “Where is a god damn Shakespeare? On the kitchen?” - John hurried up - “Get a money, you, or I’m gonna decide whether you’ll be or not to be!”\nJohn went throught the door. The book in the left hand and two dollars and fifty cents it the right. “This bastard owes me a nickel!”\n\n**Thanks for reading!**\n\n*Feel free to correct any mistakes. Thanks!*",
"Unsteady light filled a damp room of the tomb. Candlelight flickered from a sudden gust of wind. Shackles and skeletons by the walls made it clear – the host is not very kind to unwelcome guests. At room’s center was a massive table with a pulpit. Beside a pulpit grey-haired old man read bulky book with an ironclad spine. Startled by a sound of footsteps old man lifted his head.\n\n“I’ve been waiting for you,” grey-haired said to the shaded silhouette. The figure made another step and entered the light zone. Old man seemed confused “Erm, you are not him. Who are you? What are you doing here?”\n\n“Good day. I am Henry Finch, sir, and I am the golden bookmark’s fee collector,” Well-built man introduced himself. “I assume you are sir Jerald Hills, isn’t that right?”\n\n“Yeah, but you got here at a wrong time,” Jerald shifted embarrassed. “You see, I am waiting for visitors”\n\n“Sorry, sir, but this is a question of utmost importance,” Collector said and reached for his notebook. “You took Jane Austin’s best work’s collection and still has it on your hands.” Henry drawlingly recited, “You, of course, most return the library possessions and pay the fee”\n\n“Maybe I took,” Old man replied erratically “It was a long time ago. Let’s just get on with it.” He started digging through his possessions in a corner of a room. Shelf after shelf, chest after chest. Finally, he emerged from the pile of robes, scrolls and potions with dusty books in his hands. “Here, your books. How much is the fee?”\n\n“25 cents for a day overdue. Let’s see. Let’s see. It’ll be ten thousand and seventy five dollars”.\n\nThe old man’s jaw dropped.\n“What can I say,” Henry shrugged. “You’ve been keeping these books for more than a century”.\n\n“I don’t have such money,” Jerald uttered perplexedly.\n\n“Well, then you leave me no choice. I must resort to extremities,” Henry frowned. “I revoke your golden bookmark library card until you pay your debt.”\n\n“That’s it?” Old man laughed.\n\n“That’s it. I bid you good day”\n\nAnd with this words he left. His footsteps died down. But It wasn’t quiet for long. Other footsteps broke the silence.\n\n“I’ve been waiting for you,” grey-haired said to the shaded silhouette. The figure made another step and entered the light zone. “You’ve made a grave mistake coming here,” Jerald continued. “I’ll crush every bone in your body with a power of my grimoire…Where is my grimoire?”\n*** \n“He didn’t have money, so I took freedom and confiscate this quite unique book,“ Henry said to a golden mark librarian. “Look at the hard leather cover, the iron-clad spine. Don’t know about ten thousands, but any collector would gladly have it for a hefty price”\n\n\n",
"They say being a lady librarian is a boring job. Nothing to do all day but sit behind a counter, suffer the presence of people, go on Facebook or 9gag, maybe read a book or ten. Oh, and do the stuff librarians do, I guess. And they’re right. It is boring. So boring that I’d rather watch a live filming of a David Attenborough documentary. It’s that boring. I even look the part, with coffee brown eyes behind half-moon glasses, ebony hair tied up in a bun, face void of all expression but utter boredom.\n\nBut alter egos need to *be* boring. Makes it easier for people to look the other way. Look at Superman, posing as a newsboy. Or Spiderman, acting like a nerd in high school. Even Batman needs to be a boring old millionaire every now and then. So here I am, a boring librarian by day, and *something else* at night. And no, this is not me rationalizing my dead-end day job. So shut up.\n\nDon’t get me wrong, I’m not a superhero. I never pretended to be, nor I ever wanted to be. There’s a reason why a librarian like me wound up vaulting over rooftops, blasting through steel doors, and hanging upside down from warehouse ceilings like a ninja after the library closes its doors for the day; the place I work at is less a library and more an archive of important tomes and scripture that have been locked away for the good of the entire world. Books like the *Necronomicon*, the *Book of Thoth*, and the Lovecraftian Novels. Very good stuff. Also highly dangerous.\n\nThe Archive allows key individuals to borrow from our stock every now and then for a hefty price. Usually the reasons are benign, even altruistic; someone needed to cure a death curse, a leyline had to be stabilized to stop a cataclysmic event, or a girl wanted an actual fairy princess to sing on her birthday. But every now and then, people forget to return books on their due date (like most college majors do). Worse still, some tardy bastard gets this crazy idea of using the overdue books to take over the world or some other uninspired yet complicated evil plot.\n\nThat’s where I come in. By morning, I am the Archive’s head librarian. At night, I am the *Ars Arcanum*, the Collector. And I am *awesome* at this job. Why, just the other night I stopped the Russian Mafia from using the *Lemegeton* to summon some otherworldly enforcers to do their dirty work. Ended up getting dirty myself, but that’s what happens when your own *djinn* splatters the walls red in glee. It’s all part of the job.\n\nTonight, I’m hidden behind some bushes on a cliff overlooking the manor of Lord William Crowley, distant descendant of Aleister Crowley himself. Under a pseudonym, he borrowed the *Book of the Dead* from the Archive. A week later, we expected the book back on our shelves. All we got was a badly-written note about using the book to revive his dead ancestor, and a dead, naked female body with threatening messages written all over it in blood.\n\nSo here I am, suited up in skin tight black suit with a tattered cloak for dramatic effect. The head honcho said that My weapons of choice are twin custom Ruger 9mm pistols (nicknamed Pain & Panic), three holy hand grenades, a silver crucifix with a pointed end, and the *Galdrabok* itself. See, one of the perks of the job was that I can use the books as I see fit, so long as it returns to the Archive in the same state when I took it. The *Galdrabok* gives me access to some very useful spells that make it easier for me to do my job. I mean, one threat of the Farting Curse is all it takes and they all come grovelling. The other stuff are simply insurance. \n\nBasically I’m a librarian by day, and magical bounty hunter at night. Sounds silly, I know. Laugh all you want now, but one day you’ll find yourself here in the Archive, burdened by some great need. And if you ever forget to return the book you borrowed on its due date, or if you decide to be some wannabe evil sorcerer, I will find you. And I will ki-- collect your books and overdue fees.\n",
"I used to be a librarian at Cambridge, you know. Mighty fine job it was, I enjoyed being surrounded by centuries of knowledge and human creativity. Things got turned upside-down when a world of wizards suddenly appeared out of nowhere and decided that they wanted to integrate with the rest of society. I suppose a few centuries of isolation would do that.\n\nNobody knew what to do at first. The wizards were, of course, very curious about what they had been missing out on in the normal world, often to the point of becoming disruptive. The clichés were true, they carried wooden wands, even showed off their flying brooms.\n\nBut most importantly, they kept meticulous records of their understanding of magic. \n\nHundreds of scientists and wizard sages shook hands and began the largest exchange of knowledge to date. There was so much to share, a literal world of possibilities had just opened up between magical and non-magical folks alike. Thanks to technological advances, wizards were able to uncover the deep, intricacies of magical phenomena beyond their wildest dreams. Science, however, had advanced so much that researchers weren't sure how to apply magic directly on research. But with creative use of magic, scientists and engineers created golems that catered to every need and whim, enabling them to focus on research.\n\nWhen the golems started pouring out of the factories, they were lauded as the end to all manual labor. At first they were slow and really stupid, limited to being assembly line workers and such, but newer and newer models began to take over jobs requiring more of a human touch. Like mine. I was \"dismissed\" for some trivial reason that I don't even remember anymore, and compensated for \"services rendered\".\n\nI milled about for a few months, unsure of what to do. The golems were everywhere, and now they were literally taking our jobs. The backlash was terrible at first with widespread rioting, but when the media started clamoring about \"The End of Work\", the rioting was soon overtaken by cheering in the streets. We were finally free from the chains of mundane work, free to pursue whatever we pleased, whether it was art, music, or sports. A Golden Age had finally dawned upon us.\n\nScientist and wizard worked hand-in-hand to understand just how much magic and science could work together. Over the years of intimate co-operation in the name of progress, many books were written, combining the best of science and magic. Books with great knowledge that would be used to save countless lives. But also, books with great power. And with great power, comes a compelling desire to wield it. To accumulate it, and finally exercise it over others.\n\nI was awoken to a knocking at my apartment door early in the morning. Opening the door, I was greeted by the Dean of Cambridge, one of the sages that made first contact with the university. I knew him briefly. He was an amazing fellow, with more energy and strength than his old, frail frame would suggest. Clothed in suit and tie, nobody would have guessed his magical background. He had a bubbly personality that put him at odds with his status, although his countenance was not so sprightly this morning.\n\n\"We don't have much time, so I'm going to keep this short. We need help tracing a Black book.\"\n\n\"Huh? What?\" I mumbled groggily. I rubbed my eyes and shook my head half in disbelief. Black books were books containing knowledge that had greatest potential for abuse, loaned out only to the most trusted and reputable of researchers. \"Don't you guys normally just send the golems?\"\n\n\"All the golems we sent never returned. We think it's someone who knows how to disable golems or destroy them. Either way, it's not a good sign. Will you help us?\"\n\n\"I'd like to...\"\n\n\"Good. Get changed. We will brief you within the hour,\" came the curt reply. It was almost as if he knew I would accept.\n\nThe Dean turned to walk down the common corridor. I raised my hand to ask the Dean a question.\n\n\"Hey, about the work..\"\n\n\"Yes, you will be paid. Handsomely too,\" the Dean interjected without even turning around.\n\nI forgot. He reads minds.\n\n\n_____________________\n\nI think I might have deviated a little from the prompt, but I kinda like how it turned out anyway.\n\nFeedback would be greatly appreciated!",
"*SNICK*\n\nDammit; that was close. The lack of a rifle report meant the punk was using a silencer. Probably an adapted oil filter screwed onto the end of a .22LR bolt-action, just like the directions in the book. It's not much of a challenge to get one of those rifles, especially if you're young. It's small and looks harmless - when compared to a tricked-out AR - but just as deadly within a hundred yards.\n\n\"What do you see, Jeffers?\", I whispered into my headset. Jeffers was 3 houses over, using a thermal imager. \"Just a few hotspots, boss. Looks like a couple of cats and our boy. Nothing else showing.\"\n\nI'd made the crawl from the end of the kid's street, using the gutter as a shield, my drag-bag with my rifle in it trailing behind me. This was a tough way to make an approach, as any bit of your body that appears above the gutter can get shot off. Also, the gutters tend to be pretty nasty at times. Still, it's a proven method. It takes time, but your target either can't watch the entire time or doesn't believe such an approach is possible. Either way, the odds are in your favor.\n\n\"Watkins\", I whispered. \"Start your approach now.\" Watkins, driving the fake UPS van, came up the street slowly, then stopped across from our target's house. Watkins got out, package in arm, and went up to the house. It was a dangerous part of the track, as our boy could have easily shot him; the UPS uniform didn't allow for any hard body armor, and nothing would stop a shot to the head. Still, Watkins didn't seem to mind; he was the daredevil in our group. Nothing seemed to scare him during a take-down.\n\nI used the distraction to crawl from the gutter to the cover of the steps leading to the house. I thought I had gotten through cleanly, but another *SNICK* let me know our boy was onto us. Watkins took cover behind the truck, which was armored. He retrieved a sniper rifle from under the chassis and took an overwatch position on the house. \"You good, chief? If ya want me to, I can pop him from here. He's not as clever as he thinks.\"\n\n\"No, Watkins, that's oka- *BLAM*\n\nIt took me a few moments for my hearing to clear, then I heard Jeffers in my headset: \"That was real cold on my thermal scope, boss. My guess is he chucked a dry-ice bomb at ya from that second-floor window.\"\n\nMakes sense. Easy to get dry ice and a few empty 2-liter bottles. Shit, I'd set off a few of my own in my younger days. \"Let's hope he didn't get much further into the book\", I said, as I shifted my weight on the steps.\n\n*WHOOOOMP*\n\nThat shook everyone, me most of all. Dirt and chunks of grass came falling out of the air around me, and there was a whiff of ammonia in the air. \"Welp,\" I said. \"Looks like he's gotten past Chapter 13, 'Booby Traps and Firing Mechanisms'.\"\n\nI felt like an idiot; I hadn't bothered to check for a pressure-plate on the steps. \"From the smell,\" I whispered, \"I suspect he used some ammonium nitrate fertilizer. Just followed the directions in the book.\" Damn good directions, too.\n\n\"Okay, guys, I done playing with this one. Watkins, get ready with your 40mm. Drop a flash-bang through the second-floor window. Jeffers, move up to the neighbor's house and send another flash-bang into the living room. Those should keep him down long enough for me to make entry.\"\n\n\"Roger that, boss\", said Watkins. \"Copy that\", said Jeffers. I gave them a thirty-count, then gave a countdown: \"Three, two, one, send it!\"\n\nfoompBANG! foompBANG!\n\nI was on my feet and charging the door before the second explosion, hitting the door frame with my shoulder and feeling it give way. The average homeowner had no idea how weak a wooden door frame really was.\n\nI rolled into the foyer, tossing a stun grenade up the stairs and onto the 2nd-floor landing; another went sailing into the living room. If the kid's vision and hearing weren't gone from the flash-bangs, the second pair would put him down long enough for me to gain control.\n\nAnd I was right; the kid was in the middle of the living room floor, barely moving. Guess he hadn't gotten to Chapter 20, 'Defending Against Military and Paramilitary Forces'. They wrote about improvised gas masks and hearing protection in that chapter, as well as improvised barricades from household furnishings.\n\nI rolled up on the kid, my hand on his chest and my pistol coming up against his forehead. \"What is with you kids and that book?\", I asked him. I'd seen it when I was a kid, but it didn't seem to have the same fascination with young guys then as it did now.\n\n\"Someone checks it out, then they don't return it\", I said. \"They ignore notices, keeping it out for weeks or months, racking up a huge fine and forcing me and my team into action. Tell me, kid, was it worth all the effort?\"\n\nThe kid coughed a bit, then said, \"Well, I figured if I kept it long enough, someone would come after me. Then I could try out all the stuff that I learned from the book.\" \"Well, kid, that's pretty stupid. Now, you'll have to pay my bounty fee, as well as the charge for the overdue book. And I'm sure your parents won't be happy about the broken window or the smashed door frame.\"\n\nI holstered my pistol, grabbed the kid by his collar and dragged him to his bedroom. The book was on his desk, opened to Chapter 8, \"Monitoring Enemy Activity\". A police scanner that looked older than the kid sat next to it. \"So\", I said, \"you heard us talking. Looks like I need to invest in some encrypted comms.\"\n\nI grabbed the book, and glanced at the worn cover. \"The Anarchist's Cookbook, 35th Anniversary Edition.\" This was the *fifth* time I'd had to track down this damn book.\n\n\"Next time, kid, just pay the fine. It ain't worth either of us getting killed.\"",
"I didn't start out with this. Wanted to be a cop, like my dad. Times were too tough though. After the global collapse in 2345, the military took over and you had to pay to get in. Most public services were privatized, the government had given up on trying to keep up appearances. Roads were only built for the wealthy and \"peace walls\" erected around the smoked out remains of neighborhoods that had descended into chaos. They called these places Freedom States.\n\nNo one knows when the higher-ups decided handing over the libraries to the corporations was a good idea, but I know it happened on a Monday. That afternoon, folks from the States lined up for blocks to return the books they'd checked out before the law passed. The libraries hired security guards to ensure nothing left that wasn't checked out. Not that it mattered, every book had a rental cost and most of those folks couldn't afford it.\n\nHeaven help them if they could though. The corps started hiring people to track down whoever didn't bring books back on time. The pay to do it was good; better than cleaning windows and a hell of a lot cheaper than joining the military. Folks started calling us Collectors. We'd ride into the Freedom States and heckle citizens for the late fees they'd racked up. Didn't matter if they couldn't get past check points or the corps had implemented a payment strike for them trying to organize, you paid the corps.\n\nI received a tip off on a job early this morning. They said it was supposed to be quick. In and out. Supposedly it was just a mother and two children living in the slums and women are always easy to shake down especially if you roughed up the kids a little. I stopped for a cup of coffee, phoned in to accept the assignment and headed toward the Freedom State west of town. Showed my badge at the checkpoint and passed through. Got to their house pretty quick. Most people there don't have cars, can't afford 'em, so the roads are normally empty.\n\nThe place looks like a dump; garbage in front of the building and the sidewalk smells like piss and vomit. A dinged up metal door barely has hinges and the building's grey with most of the windows covered in plywood.\n\nOh well, might as well get this over with. \n\n",
"The horrific screech of my phone wakes me, it's incessant beeping reminding me of my choices in life. I grumble as I roll out of my comfortable bed, a woman who's name I don't know slowly waking as well. I place the phone to my ear.\n\n\"Mr. Vanderpunch, we've got a runner, a one Aaron Cross. He was last seen boarding a plane heading for Detroit. If you leave now you should be able to head him off. The institution is willing to pay your travelling fee.\"\n\n\u000b\u000b\"I'm on it\" I grunt like an annoyed lion and hang up. \"Sorry doll, duty calls. I'll make you an omelet some other time.\"\n\n\"Call me!\" She shouts desperately as I rush out the door.\n\n\u000bThe cool night air washes over me as I walk to my classic mustang parked on the curb. I strap my trusty revolver to my side and slide into the leather seat. I place my hand on the steering wheel and the engine roars to life like the rearing horse of old. I speed down the highway towards the rising sun. Justice doesn't wait till dawn. \n\nTwo hours later I arrive in Detroit, once the motor city, now a faded jewel. I speed to the airport and toss my keys to the valet. \"I'm not paying for it\" I mutter to myself with a grin. Rushing through the still silent halls I make my way to the terminal, flashing security my badge. Airports were always so tranquil in the wee hours of the morning, the massive rooms leaving only you and your thoughts. The plane was disembarking as I reached the cavernous terminal. I watched the people as they leave, runners were always easy to spot, they had the unmistakable scared look of a rabbit out in the open. Sure enough, he pokes his head out, nervously looking around for a wolf.\n\n\u000b\u000bI hold up my hastily scrawled sign with his name. Aaron's timid eyes eventually finds it. For a moment he's confused, stunned, until he sees me grinning like the wolf I am. He bolts, sprinting down the hall, tail between his legs. I whip out my Smith & Weston, the polished metal gleaming in the florescent light, and fire a single shot. The other passengers scream at the sound and the man falls, clutching his ankle.\n\nI take my time walking over to him before placing a boot upon his back. \"You should have just paid the fee, would have saved yourself a lot of trouble.\" I gloat, standing over him. \"Now you've got to pay for my bullet too\" I bend over and pull a few books out of his backpack. \"All this for Twilight. I would have pegged you for a Tom Clancy fan.\"\u000b\u000bI put the books under my arm and begin walking away from the man as security and paramedics run to his side. I pause from a moment and turn to the crowd gathered. \"And let this be a lesson to all of you. Don't FUCK with the public library.\" \n\n(I have two ideas for this, I've got a second story on the way)",
"*I had two ideas I liked so I wrote two. Sue me ;p*\n\nA cold chill runs down my spine as I dismount my horse. I glance around the woods, something was not right. Trees were dead, the birds were silent, nary a squirrel scurried though the branches. I cautiously move through the forest, careful to make not a sound. Looking down I notice a patch of earth scorched in an unnatural way. I pick up some ash, feeling the texture with my fingers and give it a sniff. \n\n\n\"Brimstone.\" I mutter to myself. \"At least I know I'm on the right path.\" I turn to my trusty horse, fur black as night save for a brilliant blue blaze upon her face. \"You're going to have to stay here girl, I'll be back in a moment\". With a pat I leave her and move silently into the forest. \n\n\nMy progress slows as the trees get progressively denser, closing in on me from all sides. Just before the foliage swallows me completely the trees suddenly break into an unnatural clearing. It appears to be a perfect circle, the dead grass ringed by dead trees, and a silent pond in the center of it all. Sitting at the edge of the still water, a man sits. In his lap a massive tome is open, several more rest by his side. I silently unsheathe my blade and slip into the clearing. \n\n\nHalfway through the clearing the man speaks, his voice strong and commanding despite his decrepit appearance. \"Those small minded fools should have sent more men.\" He calmly closes the book and turns to face me.\n\n\n\"Surrender now, return the books, and pay your fine!\" I shout to him, my words echoing off the trees. \"Or I'll take them from your corpse\" I menace the small man.\n\n\n\"But I'm not done with them yet!\" he shouts, as he raises his hands. One of the books bursts open and its pages flutter like a hummingbird. Purple energy flows from it and encircles the man. Hands, burst from the ground as a myriad of zombies and skeletons crawl from their graves. The man giggles incoherently from behind the new wall of corpses. \n\n\nMy blade gleams in the fading light as I cut my way through the monsters. \"Why do you people always have to do things the hard way?\" I shout as I whirl my way through the shambling mob. My sword moves with blinding speed, my strikes far too fast for these creatures to stop or avoid.\n\n\n\"You fools know nothing!\" The man shouts, scrambling back as I carve my way to him. \"You all have access to so much power but your fragile sensibilities won't let you see it!\" He cracks open another tome, this one seemingly unwilling to open. Red light seeps out of the book and the man grabs a handful. He hoists it, as if it weighed a ton, and hurls it in my direction. \n\n\nI grab the nearest zombie and use it as a shield as the mote of light erupts into a massive, fiery blast, consuming the majority of my foes. I throw my desiccated, ashen shield to the ground and dash towards my quarry. He dives back, opening yet another massive book..\n\n\n\"I could teach you, you know. I could share with you this power, make you great.\" fear works its way into his voice as he goes to open the book.\n\n\nI plant my boot atop the book, catching his hand between the pages. \"I don't need you to teach me, because unlike you\" I point my blade at his throat \"I pay my late fees\"",
"The bounty hunter\n\nHunts his bounty,\n\nHopping borders,\n\nCrossing counties.\n\n\n\nKnocking door to door,\n\nHe wanders, \n\nTraveling 'cross\n\nThe wild great yonder.\n\n\nIf he finds you, \n\nBetter hurry,\n\nHe'll be gone,\n\nWithout a scurry.\n\nHe will soon,\n\nYour window shatter,\n\nGrab his package,\n\nQuickly scatter.\n\n\nThen he's off\n\nInto the evening,\n\nNever woke you-\n\nSoftly breathing.\n\nNow he's gone\n\nAnd in his stead,\n\nHe's left a note:\n\n\"Next time, you're dead.\"\n\n\n\n\n",
"\n[[Back and forth conversation. Cause it is fun to write.]]\n\n“It isn’t about the books, Dissie. It‘s the principle of the whole thing.“\n\n“What principle!? You’re verifiably insane.”\n\n“I have never killed a man, not deserving of death.”\n\n“Don’t touch me! Your hand is all bloody!”\n\n“Don’t worry, it’s not my blood,”\n\n“Who cares about you!? I don’t want stranger blood on me.”\n\n“What? You knew the guy, some big shot politician, right?”\n\n“That’s another thing, why do all these important people keep coming to shitty library?”\n\n“Dissie, book. Books, are a universe in paper and ink.”\n\n“You never give me a straight answer. I’m not cleaning this up, by the way.”\n\n“What kind of assistant are you? You can’t clean up some blood.”\n\n“Some!? Is he even alive? How is there so much of it?”\n\n“His body guards got in the way, turns out he had been receiving a lot of threats recently, had a whole group of people with him.”\n\n“Whatever, I’m still not cleaning this up. How are you going to explain this to the cops? And you didn’t answer me, is he alive.”\n\n“He should be.”\n\n“And the cops?”\n\n“That’s not my issue. He signed the waver when he took out the book. His guards attacked me, that was self defence.”\n\n“This is unbelievable. I’m going to lunch.”\n\n“Dissie.”\n\n“No!”\n\n“What?”\n\n“I’m not cleaning this! I’m a librarian, not a janitor.”\n\n“I was going to ask if I could join you for lunch.”\n\n“No! deal with this mess!”\n\n“Come on! I’m hungry.”\n\n“Then tell me what book he took out.”\n\n“I was thinking something Asian. That’s pretty gluten free, right? I’m trying this gluten free thing. Just not entirely sure what gluten is, exactly.”\n\n“…”\n\n“Also, I’m not doing dairy either. Makes me gassy.”\n\n“Don’t follow me. This place better be clean when I come back.”\n\n“Don’t worry, I got a guy.”\n\n“You got a guy?”\n\n“I got a guy.”\n\n“What’s so special about your books!? Answer me!”\n\n“Dissie, It’s not about the books. It’s the principle behind the books.”\n\n“I’ll quit if you don’t tell me.”\n\n“Nonsense.”\n\n“Don’t think I’ll do it? I’ll do it.”\n\n“Maybe Korean? They are pretty good, right?”\n\n“Fine, Korean. I will get answers sooner or later.”\n\n“Kimchi.”\n\n“I hate you.”\t\n"
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[WP] Write an essay about something you know absolutely nothing about, but still make it sound scientifically accurate. | 10 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"The Effects Of Overpopulation On Climate.\n\n\n\nOverpopulation creates an imbalance in the production-combustion cycle of nature, the assumption by people is to make people spread out in areas with less populace, but then the density of carbon dioxide and oxygen are distorted and may lead to natural disasters. There could be many tornadoes and storms due to this very change. The solution is to expand properly the already inhabited areas and do it in a way that it maintains the living conditions and also creates more opportunities for the new populace that moves there. If we don't do the former, there are huge chances of unemployment and increase of slum areas.",
"#Evening Nutrition: The Dangers of Hidden Food Groups\n\nCommonly known for it's \"remedial and restorative\" effects, the common \"snack\" may include but not limited too: chips, fruits, vegetables, frozen foods, leftovers, candy, and/or other fried foods of the fattening variety. It is common knowledge that consuming such substances would be best suited during times after long periods of labor or study, however evidence proves against such benefit.\n\nFrom lab reports in the University of Cena located in Hawaii, student researchers have been meticulously studying the effects of substance consumption. From the typical family dinner to take out involving \"fast food\" aka, McDonalds and Burger King, evidence has shown drastic buildups of fat electrolytes and toxic chemicals known as \"dopamine\" which forms after subjects consumed such \"snacks.\"forces test subjects into continued states of highs for this. Addiction occurs as subjects continue to fill their bodies with dangerous substances in an effort to continue this high for dopamine. \n\nAlthough there is no known cure for abuse from these substances, measures can be taken to prevent to leading interest, consumption, and further sale of these dangerous materials. In another test, project \"Less is More\" began. Beginning with shock collars and whips, test subjects were subject to 20,000 volts of charge and lashings when approaching dopamine causing substances, and voluntarily began choosing the safer alternative, salt. By sending off subtle signals against dangerous substances, test subjects were successfully weaned and even free of former desire to consume these danger substances. However, this victory was short lived as subjects resumed substance consumption after the test was over.\n\nWith the rising of implants and further wireless technology, within another institute in Maryland, the University of McGergor's tests the possibility of lineless tasers and smaller, less obstructive shock collars which could possibly be implanted at the base of the neck to not only increase effectiveness by 35%, but also reduce costs in liability and tech expenses which may hamper further use by the general public. Beginning with its first line of prototypes, the McGergor \"Snack Collar\" ships out in January.\n\n\n",
"#Evening Nutrition: The Dangers of Hidden Food Groups\n\nCommonly known for it's \"remedial and restorative\" effects, the common \"snack\" may include but not limited too: chips, fruits, vegetables, frozen foods, leftovers, candy, and/or other fried foods of the fattening variety. It is common knowledge that consuming such substances would be best suited during times after long periods of labor or study, however evidence proves against such benefit.\n\nFrom lab reports in the University of Cena located in Hawaii, student researchers have been meticulously studying the effects of substance consumption. From the typical family dinner to take out involving \"fast food\" aka, McDonalds and Burger King, evidence has shown drastic buildups of fat electrolytes and toxic chemicals known as \"dopamine\" which forms after subjects consumed such \"snacks.\". Shockingly, dopamine forces test subjects into continued states of highs for this. Addiction occurs as subjects continue to fill their bodies with dangerous substances in an effort to continue this high for dopamine. \n\nAlthough there is no known cure for abuse from these substances, measures can be taken to prevent to leading interest, consumption, and further sale of these dangerous materials. In another test, project \"Less is More\" began. Beginning with shock collars and whips, test subjects were subject to 20,000 volts of charge and lashings when approaching dopamine causing substances, and voluntarily began choosing the safer alternative, salt. By sending off subtle signals against dangerous substances, test subjects were successfully weaned and even free of former desire to consume these danger substances. However, this victory was short lived as subjects resumed substance consumption after the test was over.\n\nWith the rising of implants and further wireless technology, within another institute in Maryland, the University of McGergor's tests the possibility of lineless tasers and smaller, less obstructive shock collars which could possibly be implanted at the base of the neck to not only increase effectiveness by 35%, but also reduce costs in liability and tech expenses which may hamper further use by the general public. Beginning with its first line of prototypes, the McGergor \"Snack Collar\" ships out in January.\n\n\n",
"#The Effects Of The Placebo Effect Beyond Medical Purposes\n##(or: Interfacing With The Unconscious Via Placebo)\n\nThe placebo effect is a well known[1] psychological effect where simply believing an action with no effect will have an effect may cause said action to actually occur[2].\n\nHowever, most studied cases simply prove a correlation between belief and effect in medical contexts. The placebo effect actually has much more control than simple changes in health.\n\nStudies show that the placebo effect actually allows you to change nearly anything controlled by your unconscious[3][4], including muscle (limb) control[5], your biological clock[6][7], and vocal cord attenuation[8]. \n\nSubjects were simply told that either a pill[4][7][8] or an excerise/ritual[3][5][6][8] would allow them to change something that was controlled by their unconscious and then they either were given said pill or did said excerise/ritual. \n\nIndividuals who were told that it would allow them to change something experienced said change. (p < 0.03) (Placebo effectiveness appeared to also be affected by how qualified the person telling them the effect was.)\n\nIndividuals who were not told did not experience said change. \n\nIndividuals who observed one or more people experiencing said change due to an action and then performing said action commonly experienced said change. (p < 0.048) \n\nIn short, we can conclude placebo can affect anything about you based on your set beliefs or what you think[9]."
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[WP] Your name is Roger Waters. You've just been inducted as the United States Secretary of Education, and must give a speech. After years of hiding your true nature, you can finally express your opinion on education's necessity. | 5 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"I am well known for my beliefs on education. I have been quoted as saying that teachers are just another brick in the wall. This is only a half-truth. Right now the world is in a state of denial about what's happening around it. The truth is that education is the wall that separates us from the Barbarism that we decline into once we allow ignorance to prevail. \n\nIf you listen to my work there is a reason that *children* sing the refrain of not needing education. They're too ignorant to know any better. They are also not aware of the truth of the saying that they sing. \n\nIt's a double negative. We *don't* need *no* education, is in fact saying that the children need to be taught. \n\nBut our education system is failing us. We do not, in fact, need a failing education system where we teach children route memorization instead of learning how to think critically. We do not need the thought control of allowing our political leanings decide the facts of our world. So our teachers need to leave their politics at the door. Teachers, leave those kids alone. \n\nIf we want a brighter future we must create a culture where we celebrate learning rather than use it as a system of oppression, or worse yet as a way to discourage thinking and encourage us to get stuck in a rut repeating the same things over and over again. If you can't look pass the surface of a thing it's very important to learn how.\n\nLet us not get stuck as lost souls wandering around covering the same old ground year after year. I've moved beyond that but I wish you were here with me to do the same. \n\nThank you.\n\n"
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1,
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[WP] Santa has too much eggnog one night and decides that instead of giving the naughty children coal, he is just going to fight all of them. | 1,170 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house\nnot a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.\nThe eggnog was stocked in Santa’s sleigh with care,\n old St. Nicholas even had nog in his hair.\n \nThe children were nestled all snug in their beds,\nthe pounding of drums rang in Santa’s head.\nSanta was drunk and fed up with their shit,\nThis was the year they’d get their ass whopped by saint nick.\n \nWhen out on the roof there arose such a clatter,\nI sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.\nAway to the window I flew like a flash,\ntore open the shutter, and threw up the sash.\n \nThe moon shown bright and what would you know \nI saw a sleigh flying and it was a little too low,\nwhen I noticed the slam on my roof sounded so near,\ndown through the chimney what did I hear\n an old man roaring “where is the beer”\n \nup the stairs he came and straight to my bed, \nI saw St. Nick peer in his head.\nHis stare was harsh, and he smelled quite like liquor,\nand he whistled and shouted and began to snicker:\n \n\"Now you little shit! Now you’ve done it!\nI’ve seen you all year, and even Rudolph would say!\nyou’ve been bad child almost every day!\nI have a big list of naughty boys and girls!\nIll wail on their faces and yank out their curls!\n\nHe grabbed me and slammed me against the wall!\nThree swift punches and blackness did fall\nBack to the roof he did crawl\nNow dash away! Dash away!\nDash away all!\" \n \nAs I awoke I started to cry,\nALL I COULD FEEL WAS HIM POUNDING MY EYE, \nup on the roof curse words flew,\nIm tired of this shit and im coming for all of you,\n \nAnd then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof\nthe prancing and pawing of each little hoof.\n\nas they flew off I ran to my bed\n Pulled up the covers and hid my head, \nI was as quite as a mouse hiding the crying sound\nFor my fears may be true that Saint Nick was still around\n \nHe was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,\nand his clothes were all tarnished with ashes, puke and soot.\nA pair of brass knuckles he wore on his hands,\nas he went to find another child that he couldn’t stand.\n \nHis eyes--how they twinkled! His cackle, how scary!\nHis cheeks were bloody, his knuckle as red as cherry!\nas he landed on the next house blood dripped off in the snow,\nand the beard on his chin with crimson did glow.\nhe picked up a pipe to beat in their teeth,\nand on down the chimney he did creep.\nHis next victim he’d face was little jack,\nthat look in his eye, there was no going back.\n \nHe was chubby and plump, a right scary old elf,\nand I peed when I saw him, in spite of myself.\nA wink of his eye and a twist of his head\nsoon gave me to know I had something to dread.\n \nHe spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,\nbeating me with stockings, filled with rocks and dirt.\nAnd laying his finger aside of his nose,\ntook a hit of cocaine, and continued his blows.\n \nHe sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,\nAnd away they all flew like a scud missile.\nBut I heard him exclaim, 'ere he flew out of sight,\n\"Be good this year, or I’ll be back to fight!\"\n ",
"Santa shot up from his seat, speed belying his jolly size, and in a fluid motion peeled his headset, the headset that was supposed to be a Christmas gift, from his head and hurled it against the brand new 4k monitor that came as the headsets companion. Turning to a small boy, who was shrunk behind his old laptop and crying quietly, afraid to further upset Saint Nick, Santa belted, \"Fuck you, you're a shit support,\" then drained a metal flask filled with a milky liquid. All through the house, barely anything was stirring, even the rats in the ally dared not make a peep.\n\nSanta snatched his bag of holiday cheer from beside the desk, reached inside and pulled out a present, shaped like a bottle and tagged \"To Grandpa, Have a Happy Christmas and a Merry New Year,\" then tore the paper off, uncapped the lid and took a mighty swig, brown whiskey dribbling down his bushy beard and staining the white of his suit. Santa slung the burden over his shoulder, gave the child a dirty look, and turned to walk out the room, but stopped and turned after hearing a sound. It was a soft sound, a reflective sound, a just but timid sounding sound.\n\nThe boy had called Santa out. He said, as softly as he could, hoping that the words wouldn't carry further than his lips, \"At least I didn't feed a Shadow Fiend.\"\n\nSanta's rosy red cheeks became rosier and rosier, spreading through his face as it twisted in hate. His belly rumbled about, still stirring from the quick spin Santa had done. He dropped the sack and it crumbled into itself like a dying star, flat and empty, the magic sustaining it drained. \"I am checking the score,\" Kringle claimed as he took a step towards the timid, wide eyed boy who was doing his best to push his way through the wall his back was against, \"I checked it twice, and our position 5 support was naught not nice. Not one gank from our Shadow Shaman did I see.\" Santa's flame continued, \"You've been a very naughty boy, you have lost many mmr to many fine players, present company included.\" \n\nThe boy shot back, \"I was oom every time you called for a gank!\" he slunk back, confused at his own confidence in the face of a drunk and angry Santa, he knew what that would lead to. \"You thirteen mana boy, you,\" Santa replied, voice gelatinous venom, \"You should have had arcane boots.\" Claus smiled, happy at the barb he made and apparently back to his jolly self. He gave an \"Ah!\", and as a last word added, \"Allow me to give you some Christmas cheer,\" then reached into the empty bag, rummaged around, exclaimed, \"Aha!\" again, and stood. When his hands left the bag, one had rope and the other a middle finger, finishing his thought, \"You suck at gaming, now kill yourself!\" and the mythical man beloved no longer by all, stood triumphant.\n\nThe boy was incensed, being talked down to by a player a thousand mmr below him seemed to make him forget he was engaged in a shouting match with a being that owned eight reindeer and was also ageless and magical. \"You would have lost your lane anyway, you died before Shadow Fiend even got a bottle and to him 1v1,\" he fired back, now confident that he did nothing wrong, \"Twice, plus, you had more deaths than I did or anyone on the team did at the end!\"\n\nSanta was lightning and in an instant he crossed the admittedly small room and had his face to the child's, his forehead a bead of sweat away from the boy's. \"FIGHT ME!! he bellowed, losing any melody his voice may have had, his once kind heart now stone from overindulgence in Mrs. Clause's famous eggnog (and various other pilfered spirits) mixed with a romp in low rated online gaming. \"If you think it was my fault, FUCKING FIGHT ME!\" he once more challenged. When the boy looked away dejectedly Santa regained his composure.\n\nHe heard the parents alarmed shouts and it dawned that an obese man, dressed as a Christmas icon, drunk and yelling at a crying child would end with another missing persons report and more heavy coal to lug around to orphanages. Kris K twinkled his nose and the boy fell into the twilight of unconsciousness. Wasting no time, he took a box from his bag, hurriedly sneaked to the living room, past the master bedroom containing two confused, complacent and angry parents, and placed it under the families fake tree. Returning to the boy's room, he opened the nearest window, took a few steps back, then hurled himself into the cold outside, floating down to the ally floor. After landing, he walked across the ally to the adjacent buildings fire escape and began the long arduous climb to the top where he could signal his reindeer, sit down in his sleigh and pour some more 'nog into his belly.\n\nThe last thing Santa heard as he took off into the night, he boy's parent's angry questions of why he had opened, and destroyed, his brothers Christmas gifts and why he had his fathers inexplicably clean rope out. Santa laughed and found the half drained bottle of premium whiskey in the brown bag of Christmas cheer. Under the boy's families' tree was a small box, \"To Ali\" it read, inside was a lump of coal from a very salty, very shitty Santa.",
"Cole was a juvenile delinquent with the rap sheet of an adult. He bullied other children, got into fights, and vandalized public property. The remorse never settled in, not even after he was caught; it had to be beaten into him. As Santa swung his sack, he imagined Cole's petulant face crumpling under the impact, blood and snot spraying everywhere.\n\nThe window shattered, and a shadow shifted in the bedroom. Santa vaulted the windowsill with practiced agility and leapt onto the bed. Cole's expression couldn't update quickly enough; he was still trapped in dreariness as Santa wrapped his hands around his throat.\n\n\"Santa, what...\" Cole's voice rattled, his eyes popping, as he struggled to displace Santa's chokehold. Santa backhanded him twice in succession, once for each cheek, eliciting a pair of satisfying cracks and a delicious cry of pain.\n\n\"This is your reward, kid. This is all for your misdeeds.\" Santa laugh was genuine and full of mirth, not his typical ho-ho-ho act. Cole writhed underneath Santa, upsetting the sheets but gaining no purchase. He was helpless, a bully turned on his back, and oh, how ticklish that was. Santa lurched forward and planted his gut across his face. If only the kids could see the state of their bully now. He imagined their faces, the derisive laughs and the vengeful sneers. The image was disconcerting, though, and for a moment, he wanted to punch them out, too.\n\nFootsteps pattered down the hallway, accompanied by cries of concern. Santa shifted backwards and struck him in the face, and his head would've been sent spinning if Santa hadn't been securing his neck. Cole closed his eyes, a bruise forming around his left one. His hands fell limply at his sides. He'd admitted defeat. The game was over. Santa felt incomplete, though; his business wasn't yet over. He slammed Cole's head against the headboard with a resounding crack. Nothing. Still nothing.\n\nA shadow blotted out the light emanating from beneath the door. Santa took one last look at Cole, the bloody mess. He had no history; in this moment, he was nothing more than a kid on his bed in the middle of the night. Then the bedroom door flew open, and Santa was gone in a swirl of blankets. He heard the screams as he embarked on his sleigh and took off into the night.\n\nNext stop was Harry, a perpetual shoplifter, and he was going to get it. Yes, this time, he would learn his lesson; Santa would make sure of it.",
"I'm getting too old for this thought Nick. The old saint had loss a lot of blood and was getting light headed. Bobby had lost his black belt in the skirmish, Santa was now using it as a head band. Not as a warrior, but to stop the bleeding (Bobby has sharp nails). He took another swig of nog from his pouch and pointed his jolly finger to Bobby. \n\n\"Now see here Bobby\" belched the aged Christmas Spirit as he tossed the carton aside. The two began to circle each other, they had stopped so that Santa had his back to the already lit fireplace (that had really slowed him down earlier in their fight). In no way were they equal in height, but in terms of fighting capabilities the Jolly Old Man had met his match... and he knew it. \n\n\" You're good, you could have been on my \"Nice List\", it's too bad you don' piiiick fights with the right people.\" \n\nOld Nick grabbed the Karate Trophy off of the fireplace mantle behind him and threw it across the room. He overshot it and landed no where near Bobby. \n\n\"It's ok\" thought Santa. \"It was only suppose to be a diversion.\" \n\nSanta dashered across the room, and prancered on Bobby. The exchange of fists ensued once more. Santa threw his entire jelly torso into every punch, trying to close the gap between his might and Bobby's speed. \n\nAll year round elves made toys for this one special time of day, which gives Santa enough time to pick up hobbies. This year Santa had picked up Boxing. \n\nBobby was quickly dodging Santa's fists with grace. The eggnog had made Santa's fighting predictable and sloppy, but Bobby wasn't afraid. He was thrown into Karate at a young age. Starting his first class at the local community park, he was kicked out a year later when he broke his sparring partner's arm. His superiors called it a foul, and made him apologize. \n\nThe next day Bobby broke his other arm. \nBobby was as merciless as he was gifted. He fought for more then just sport, he fought for his entertainment. \n\nPOP!\n\nSanta felt one of his lower ribs crack. Bobby had been targeting them for sometime, his small stature kept fracturing Santa's candy cane filled bones.\n\n\"AHHHHHH\" cried the nearly beaten man. \n\nSanta had enough. \n\nAs Bobby was continuing his dance Santa grabbed Bobby by the collar, lifted him and embraced him in a bear hug. \n\n\"Ho Ho Ho.\" Santa exclaimed in assumed victory as he squeezed tighter. \"Now Bobby I want you to start counting off all my deer. If you name them all without passing out, I might just consider putting you on the nice list.\" \n\nBobby gave a good ole head butt to Santa. Santa drops Bobby to tend to his own forehead which has opened Santa's wound even further.\n\nBobby fell flat on his back, which knocked the wind out of him. As Santa was trying to stop the bleeding, Bobby noticed something bright in the corner of his eye. THE KARATE TROPHY!\n\nBobby began to army crawl towards his winning prize. Every second Bobby spent crawling towards the weapon was time Santa could use to recover and cross another name off the list. He extended his arm and the tip of his finger felt the cool marble base of the figurine. That'd put a nice dent in anyone.\n\nBobby could not crawl any farther. Santa had recovered and put a knee on Bobby's back. He had Bobby's Karate belt in hand and began to cut off his air supply. \n\n\"Shhh I won't kill you, but I doubt you'll let me walk away\" Santa was calm, he knew he had the upper hand and was ready not to underestimate his opponent again. \n\n\"Do you think my elves make these toys because they enjoy it?\" Santa raised his head. His eyes wandered the room, not looking for anything in particular. Just examining the damage their fight had caused. \n\n\"My elves do not work year round because they like kids, or that they like making toys. Hell they'd rather live with the reindeer and snowmen outside.\" Santa took a deep breath and looked down at Bobby. He fell asleep. \n\nSanta got up and walked to the fireplace.\n\n\"They do it out of fear.\"\n\nEdit: P.S. Sorry for any grammar mistakes ",
"**I deviated slightly from the brief - Santa was sober in my story. Hope that's ok.**\n\nInspector Colin Harris was not full of the Christmas cheer that was, at that very moment, pervading homes all over the world. Christmas Eve was seven minutes short of turning into Christmas Day and instead of helping Dawn assemble the ludicrously large doll’s house that their five-year-old daughter, Grace, would no doubt grow tired of by New Year, he was at the station, preparing to question the arsehole in interview room two.\n\nHe drained a tepid cup of machine coffee and grimaced. \n\n“Right, let’s get this over with,” he muttered to himself and opened the door to the interview room. At the table, with an untouched coffee from the same vending machine at his elbow sat a rather convincing Santa Claus. Harris sat in the chair opposite and gave the miscreant a long hard look.\n\nHarris turned on the tape recorder, stated the date and time, and began.\n\n“So, you won’t give us your real name. You’re not drunk. Your fingerprints aren’t in the system. You have refused a solicitor,” he stated. “For the record, the accused is dressed as Santa Claus. Good outfit. Love the beard,” he sneered.\n\n“But I am-“ began the man, but Harris cut him off.\n\n“No! No you’re bloody not!” Harris shouted. “Who are you, really? And why have you broken into…” he consulted his notes, “by our reckoning, seven houses and given the children within a punch on the nose? Did you know one of them is in hospital now? Oh, he’ll be fine, but he has a broken nose. I mean, what are you playing at, you sick bastard?”\n\nThe man hung his head. \n\nSilence reigned.\n\nThe man made to reach for his coffee but thought better of it.\n\nSlowly, he looked up at Harris.\n\n“Colin, did you like the Action Man you got in 1978? I bet you had hours of fun with him. And that ZX Spectrum in 1986? Actually, to be honest, computers are half the bloody problem here. Life was so much easier before they came along.”\n\nHarris stared back at the man, momentarily lost for words, wonder fighting with cynicism in his mind. A guess, surely? They were some of the most popular presents at the time…yeah, a lucky guess. Nothing more. He’d obviously studied those shows, the ones like the World’s 100 Favourite Toys. Bloody chancer.\n\n“You got some good games with that Spectrum as I recall,” the man continued, “your little brother was so jealous! He-Man figures and Castle Grayskull are all well and good, but when the dog chews up He-Man before Christmas dinner, well, all of a sudden big brother’s shiny computer looks a damn sight more exciting. Not that he got to play it for a while,” he added, giving Colin a stern look.\n\n“How…what…?” stammered Harris. The words would not come out.\n\n“The fact of the matter, Colin, is that I am Santa Claus. I know that you have got young Grace a doll’s house this year, but when she opens all her presents in a few hours and there is some beautiful furniture to go with it, your wife will be surprised that you picked out such lovely and thoughtful items. Even more surprised that you had the gumption to buy them yourself. But you didn’t, did you? I did. That won’t stop you taking the credit, no doubt,” The man paused, “Do you remember the blazing row your parents had over that Spectrum? There wasn’t much money in the house, certainly not enough for presents like that. Each blaming the other, neither backing down. That must have been difficult, yes?”\n\nHarris remained dumbstruck.\n\nThe man continued, “I’ve already visited your house this year Colin, and Grace is the very model of a good girl; you should be proud. But those others, those little shits. I used to leave them a lump of coal, but as the world became more politically correct, Mrs Claus persuaded me to give them presents. After all, who can afford bad PR nowadays? But I guess I’ve gone and messed that up now. Still, you’ll help me with that, won’t you Colin?”\n\nDespite himself, Colin nodded slowly.\n\n“You see, Colin, the world has gone soft. Children can no longer be, shall we say, physically educated,” he coughed, surreptitiously, “not that I would advocate it normally, but these children were particularly bad and needed to be taught a lesson. So I gave each of them a bop on the nose. I will admit, the one that has ended up in hospital got more of a solid left jab, but he was so abusive. He called me every vile name under the sun.”\n\nThe man stood up and the handcuffs that had thus far restrained him fell away and landed on the floor with an almost festive clatter. He straightened his bright red jacket, then adjusted his belt. He looked down at Colin, sympathetic mischief glinted in his eyes.\n\n“I need to leave now. Don’t feel bad Colin. In ten minutes’ time, nobody will remember any of this. No you, the children, their parents or their doctors. Nobody in this police station will remember I was here and there will be no record of my arrest. I have certain…powers bestowed upon me and, while I would rather not use them to cover up what is an unfortunate felony on my part, there are millions of other children who are waiting for their presents and I need to deliver. Now, just close your eyes…”\n\nColin’s eyelids drooped to a close.\n\n“Merry Christmas, Inspector Harris,” said Santa Claus, before striding out of the interview room.\n\nWhen he awoke ten minutes later, his head on the interview table, he was confused as to why he was there. He got up and decided he needed caffeine. He was definitely overworked and was exhausted. As he left to seek out coffee, he didn’t notice the handcuffs laying on the floor on the other side of the interview table.\n\nSeveral hours later, Colin was home. Grace was playing with her doll’s house and Dawn was busy in the kitchen preparing their Yuletide feast. He went in and slipped his hands around her waist and kissed her neck. “Merry Christmas love,” he murmured.\n\n“And to you,” she replied, his show of affection not distracting her from her task. “you deserve it, after work last night. And that doll’s house furniture you found for Gracie, they’re beautiful.”\n\nColin said nothing, but juxtaposed with a feeling of uneasy guilt, an image flashed in his mind; a pair of empty handcuffs, laying on the floor of interview room 2.\n",
"She had left him, of course she had, why wouldn’t she? He was addicted to the sauce, he got slower and slower each year, his mood swings were out of control, and at some point his jolly had been replaced with bitterness and resentment. Every year it was getting worse. These snot nosed kids were wanting more and behaving less. He wasn’t a lesser man for adding a bit more eggnog to his diet. It was the only way he could deal with the ungrateful bastards year in and year out. Mary had never understood. She told him there was good in everyone and it was just impossible for him to believe that anymore. Her rose colored glasses and ample bosom weren’t enough to make him laugh or smile anymore. He missed her and needed her, but the more he needed the less she wanted. \n\t\nNot so jolly Nick unfurled his parchment, he had decided that in the technologic age good old pen and paper would help keep him grounded, and just as he thought the Naughty column had grown substantially this year. He ho ho ho’d to himself as he remembered that little blue pill he had taken a few years ago to spice things up with the Mrs. If only it had made him grow like this list maybe she would still be sitting in her chair with her needlepoint making him hot cocoa. Instead he sat here with his buttons undone, his bulging mid section, and a nice tall glass of 1990 EG Reserve cooling in his sweaty grip. He took a sip, what most would call a gulp, and read the first name on the list. Richie Edwards. Richie Edwards was, this year, the naughtiest kid in the world. Nick had opted for degree of naughtiness a few decades ago to even out the distribution of coal. \n\nIt hit him! It wasn’t his fault Mary left him. It was little Richie Edward’s fault she was gone. Well, not Richie, but what Richie represented. These little punks were the reason for all of his madness and strife. A thought danced across his mind that if not for his exes infertile womb he would be able to pass this job on to his son, but he quickly wiped the idea away. It wasn’t her fault it was theirs. HE was old and he was tired. Tired of the race cars and smart phones and the gadgets and gizmos. He was sick and tired of it all! These kids needed to learn and they needed to learn now! No more coal. No more passive aggressive anit-presents left for these booger eating assholes. The school of hard knocks was in session and St. Nick and a class to teach, With a lurch and more than a few grunts he was on his feet. Gloves pulled on and feet slammed into boots as he trounced down the hallway to the reindeer stalls. Nick took one last look at his list, mounted Rudolf, and rode off into the blustering Christmas Eve night.\n\nRudolf touched down on a large three story victorian. This was little Richie’s house? What in the hell did this kid have to be so shitty for? Looked like he had everything! This only made Nick fume more. Little Richie obviously had never wanted for anything and it was high time someone showed him that manners weren’t a fairy tale told to little ones to make them fall in line. Nick sprinted for the chimney and with an agility he had long since forgotten he dove head first down the shaft. He landed gingerly in the opening at the bottom. A wall of stockings hung in front of him and he promptly ripped them down. Stockings? Ha! Nothing good would be awaiting Richie n’er be good tomorrow morning. Nick trudged through the living room and up the stairs towards Richie’s room. \n\nThe first door he came upon was opened a crack and he gently nudged it open. Inside he saw a sight he only dreamed of for the last few years. A women in the throws of passion sat atop what was, at that moment, the luckiest man in the world. How he longed for the touch of a woman. Nick felt a slight rise in his velvet trousers and was instantly reminded of why he was here. He moved away from the door after stealing one last glance at the one thing he missed most in this world. \n\nNick came to a second door that sat wide open on it’s hinges. It was BEGGING for him to come in. This must be the room he was looking for. He rammed one gloved fist into his coat and took a drag from his ice flask before silently slipping into the semi-lit bedroom. \n\nRichie rubbed his eyes. His bladder was full, but not as full as his spirits. Tomorrow was Christmas and just like every other Christmas he knew what was waiting for him. He had asked his mommy and daddy for the brand new Iphone 7 and although they said 12 was too young for a smart phone he had pestered and pleaded until he knew they had given in. Sure there would be other gifts, but he had eyes only for the phone. Scraaaaaaatch. Richie turned to stone. What was that? “Mom? Dad?” Richie called.\n\n“Guess again,” Nick snarled. He was shielded in the shadows behind the door, “You’ve been a bad boy,” Nick said. \n\n“What? Who...who’s there?” Richie began to cry. Then he was struck in the head by something hard. The tears let go and he began to wail. \n\nNick slammed the door. He had brought one piece of coal and he had just hurled it in the punk’s general direction. His form was perfect. His snowball league would’ve been proud. Nick made sure the door was locked as he heard Richie’s parents hurrying down the hallway. “Year after year you bitch and you moan. Wanting more, more, and MORE! Well I don’t have any more to give!” Nick dashed across the room, he would’ve given Prancer a run for his money this time. That smug jerk. He picked Richie up by the front of his shirt and brought him to his feet, “Fight!”\n\n“No! I don’t want to!” Richie cried. He was hoping his parents would be in the room soon. \n\n“This is happening,” Nick roared. “Defend yourself. Or don’t. Makes no difference to me.” Nick squared away and got into his best fisticuffs stance. He extended one fist and connected with Richie’s chest. The kid only stumbled. It was at this point when Nick realized this was no average 12 year old. Richie stood at least six feet tall and a buck fifty, easy. He quickly nipped another hit from his flask.\n\nRichie might be big, but his feelings were not. Through his tears he could’ve sworn it was Santa Claus that had just hit him the chest. Richie was hurt and confused, but he did like his dad taught him and swung his fist as hard as he could. His daddy always said people would bully him because he was big for his age and that he had to fight back. Richie’s blow landed underneath Santa’s left eye and it split wide like a paper grocery sack carrying defrosting milk. He stumbled backwards and fell on his bottom with a thud.\n\n“Thas hows is gon be?” Nick slurred. He got to his feet and let out a guttural battle cry as he leaped into the air and turned horizontal. He recoiled like a spring and unloaded the bottoms of both leather boots square into Richie’s gigantic chest and sent him flying into the wall behind him. The wall cracked and caved under the intense weight and force of its newest friend and Richie lay slumped in his new plaster chair. The door burst open behind him and Nick heard the once pleasured women shriek in horror. Nick whistled and and a red light shone behind the frosted glass of Richie’s window. He inhaled, hurdled the bed, and dove through the window landing on Rudolf’s back. He let out a triumphant Ho Ho Ho as he unrolled his list to see whom would be the next unlucky one. The fog covering his eyes made it hard to read, but it looked to him as though the header on his list read Nice. He blinked away the spins and realized, to his astonishment, that he was looking into the face of his NICE list and the first name on the list was...Richie Edwards. He had just laid the hurt down on the nicest kid on Earth. He reached into his jacket and looked at his flask and hesitated. With a heavy heart he tossed back the last drink and knew in his heart it was his fault Mary left him.\n",
"Oh little Jimmy was nestled all snug in his bed,\nwhile visions of sugar-plums danced in his-WHAP!\n\nJimmy sat bolt upright in his bed instinctively bringing his hands to the burning sensation on his cheek. It took his eyes a second to adjust to the darkness of his room. He looked to the side of his bed and saw a tall bearded man in a red coat carrying a bottle and looking very dazed and out of it. \n\n\"S-Santa?\"\n\n\"Ho-ho *burp* ho ya little shit, there's more wh-where that came from,\" said Santa slapping the boy a second time. \n\nStunned, Jimmy said, \"Santa! What are you doing?! I thought you were supposed to be nice and jolly!\"\n\n\"Jolly? You want me to be f-fucking jolly? D-do you even know how many g-god DAMN lawsuits I have on my hands from all those toy companies with all their fuckin' patent claims? Not to mention having to keep an eye oon sh-shitty kids like you all the time.\"\n\n\"Moooooooooooom!!!!\"\n\n\"Oh r-right, NOW you cry to your mom. Only when you need help don't ya.\"\n\n\nJimmy's mom came running down the hall and entered the room. \"What the hell is going on here?\"\n\n\"Mom help! Santa's trying to beat me!\"\n\n\"Ahh fuck you Jimmy,\" Santa said pointing his bottle of eggnog at Jimmy causing him to stumble and fall ass flat on the ground.\n\n\"Santa why are you doing this?\" asked Jimmy's mom. \n\n\"W-why? Why am I doing THIS?\" Santa started laughing letting out a chorus of Ho Ho Ho's in between his burping. \"Cause your son... is the most entitled, ungrateful little shit I've ever had the disPLEASURE of keeping an eye on.\"\n\n\"I am not!\"\n\n\"YOU ARE SO JIMMY! Do you have any idea how much work your mother goes through, j-just to keep you happy?\"\n\nJimmy looked desperately at his mom. She stared back at him and said nothing. \n\n\"Your birthday last month. Y-your *burp* mother she worked overtime for a month a god damn MONTH just so she could buy you your stupid fucking iPhone you love so much.\" Santa took a second, wondering if he was about to puke or not. After a moment he burped and continued. \"Do you even remember what you said when she gave it to you?\" He stared intently at Jimmy. \n\nJimmy said nothing for a second before meekly saying, \"N-no...\"\n\nHis mom chimed in quietly saying, \"He said... this isn't the latest generation.\"\n\nSanta gestured towards her. \"You see that J-jimmy! All that work and effort your mother puts in to keep you happy and you never, *burp* you NEVER APPRECIATE IT... you... you never appreciate it\" Santa began a whimper that transitioned into a full out cry. He laid sitting on the floor repeating to himself, \"they never appreciate it damn it, they never appreciate any of it!\"\n\nJust then a group of elves came in the room. \"Santa what's taking you so long?\" When the elves saw the sorry scene in front of them the head elf said, \"Jesus Christ,\" and looked desperately at the other elves in the group.\n\nThey approached Santa and one said, \"Hey pal, you're a little drunk buddy and we're gonna get you out of here. Come on now.\"\n\nSix elves gathered around Santa and helped him to his feet. They carried him out of the room as he repeatedly whimpered \"they never appreciate it.\" \n\n\"Sorry you had to see that,\" said the last elf as he shut the door behind him. \n\nJimmy was a lot more appreciative after that. ",
"He stumbled out of the broken front door. The bottle landed in the freshly fallen snow as he wiped his bloody knuckles on his dirty red coat. He coughed heartily and lit a cigarette before staring up at the moon, basking in his own adrenaline and bloodlust. He retrieved the bottle, taking a swig as he heaved himself back onto his well worn sleigh seat.\n\"Don't you think you've had enough, Santa?\"\nSanta looked at the small elf next to him with fire in his eyes.\n\"You shut your fucking mouth, or you'll be next. I don't pay you for your opinions.\"\nThe elf looked away meekly, as Santa pulled a crumpled list from his chest coat pocket.\n\"Timmy, Timmy, timmy...\" he mumbled as he perused the red-inked names, crossing it out once he found it.\n\"Who's next?\" He said, not even bothering to look at the Elf.\n\"Um, let's see... well, the next closest naughty kid is Jane, 316 N. Harrington Road. It's about 0.6 miles north north east from here. Santa. Santa? Santa?!?\"\nThe elf jostled the drunken sleeping giant by his fluffy white lapel.\n\"Mmmm, what?\"\n\"Did you hear me?\"\n\"Yes!\" He roared, veins bulging on his forehead, \"I'm always listening.\"\nSanta stared straight ahead, dead eyed and lost in thought.\n\"Jane. Janeeeee. Yes. Uppity little cunt. Told her father she didn't love him because he couldn't afford a pony. Like she has any understanding of the care and upkeep costs that go into owning a pony. Hah! I'll give her a pony alright...\"\nHe smiled through gritted teeth as he rubbed his stonelike hands together maniacally.\n\"But Santa, she's only 7, she didn't know! I'm sure she didn't mean it.\"\nThe elf crashed to the floor as a thunderous blow cracked against the right side of his jaw. \n\"ONLY SPEAK WHEN SPOKEN TOO!\" he bellowed. The trembling elf gathered himself and resumed his spot atop the driving perch. A light turned on in Timmys kitchen, and a robe-laden man stepped through the door, rubbing his eyes the pale moonlight. \n\"Who's out there? Did you break my door??\" \nSanta and the elf looked at each other in astonishment, they hadn't been seen by a mortal in millennia.\n\"Um, uh, no! We heard the commotion and came out to check, we are... repair men!\"\n\"Repair men? What time is it?\" The man looked at his watch.\n\"It's 3 in the morning! Is that a sleigh?? Stay where you are, I'm calling the cops! Honey, get down here, and bring my gun!\" The man ran back into the house.\n\"Hm, that's not good, we should go. Ready the steeds!\"\nThe elf grabbed the reigns and cracked his whip across the backs of the reindeer.\n\"We ride! It's time for Jane to get her pony\" Santa said, throwing his head back as he chuckled to the moon. And with that, they rode off into the crisp December darkness. ",
"The two brothers eagerly lay in wait, watching the clock as it neared midnight. James, the younger of the two, turned towards his big brother. \n\n\"Surely he's not coming? Billy from school told me he wasn't even real.\"\n\nJohnathan scoffed, punching his brother on the arm. \"Who do you think put all that coal in my sock last year then?\" \n\nJames laughed, rubbing his arm. \"Dad, silly. Because you were being a little shit.\" \n\n\"*You certainly were.*\"\n\nThe kids' eyes went wide. A figure stood swaying in the doorway, the dim light masking his features. \n\nJohnathan stared wildly. \n\n\"...Dad?\" he asked, knowing that it wasn't him. \n\nThe figure stepped forward, revealing his massive bulk and long, flowing beard. He reeked of eggnog. \"Guess again, kiddo.\"\n\n\"*Santa?*\" James asked in disbelief. \"Oh my God, it's really you! I can't believe it!\"\n\nSanta briefly smirked, then surveyed the room. \"Milk'n cookies? Wheres my milk and cookies?\" He burped loudly.\n\nJohnathan crossed his arms. \"Presents first, fatso.\"\n\nSanta blinked, not used to such imprudence. \"Oh don't *hic* start, you little shit. Not tonight.\"\n\nJohnathan stuck his tongue out. \"Too bad, no cookies for-\"\n\nSanta swung his bag of presents wildy, connecting Johnathan on the chin and sending him careening into a nearby wall. \n\nJames was about to scream, when Santa shot a glance at him. \"You want presents, or you want a beatin'?\"\n\nJames thought for a bit. \"Presents please,\" he said sweetly.\n\n\"That's what I thought,\" Santa said, throwing him a couple of toys, \"that's what I thought.\" \n\nHe sloppily patted James on the head then stumbled out of the house, waving and mounting his sleigh unsteadily. James watched him go with a strange sense of admiration.\n\nSanta whipped the reigns and took to the skies. Police sirens could be heard in the distance.\n\n\"Merry Christmas to all,\" he cried, as he took a massive swig from a gourd, \"and to all a good night!\" \n\nHe thought for a while, unsatisfied, as the sleigh dangerously leant to the left.\n\n\"Apart from all you naughty little shits, ho-ho-*ho!*\"",
"It was a tepid summer night. Little Johnny Becker was loosely under his sheets, enjoying the fresh, night air as cricket chirps melted into the hum of the box fan in his window.\n\nLittle Johnny could not conceive of a more perfect night to cap off a more perfect day: pestering his mother into buying $200.00 in console games, a new cat, and skipping dinner altogether because it, “tasted like shit,” which was only met with warnings and empty threats, per usual.\n\nLittle Johnny slept like a king, unaware that a creature was stirring, *much* bigger than a mouse.\n\n*Crash!*\n\nA familiar body flew threw Johnny's door, shattering it as Ed lay on the floor.\n\nJohnny jerked and jostled. Light from the hallway now intruded into Johnny's kingdom. He saw his step-father moaning on the floor.\n\n“What the fuck, Ed? Drunker than usual? Mom's going to kill you when she gets back from karaoke and sees you smashed another door,” complained Johnny of the disturbance.\n\nFootsteps, heavy with purpose made their way to the doorway. A round shadow slowly eclipsed the light over Ed lying on the floor.\n\n“Little Johnny Becker…” a deep, burly voice spilled into his room, cascading it with the stench of eggnog and brandy.\n\nHe recognized the outline. He couldn't be sure. He flicked on his ‘reading’ lamp.\n\n“Santa!” Exclaimed Johnny. “You beat up my step dad! You really are the best! I must've been extra good this year to get my present in July!”\n\nThe steps thundered. Santa drew nearer to little Johnny's bed.\n\n*Whap!*\n\nOpen hand smack across Johnny's jaw. Johnny was seeing Christmas stars. This was followed by a good old fashioned toss across the room into Johnny's plasma TV.\n\nJohnny lay on the floor a frightened wreck of a spoiled, little shit.\n\n“What did I do to deserve this??” cried Johnny.\n\nSanta slowly approached before shoving a note in Johnny's face. Johnny recognized this letter, his Christmas list.\n\n“Have you any idea how much you requested?” Santa questioned. The note still in Johnny's face.\n\n“I… I don't know. I just wrote things down. I mean you're magical and all…”\n\n“72 trillion!” Santa erupted. “Have you any idea what kind of strain that puts on me!?”\n\n“No…” \n\nSanta stood up and began reciting Johnny's list, “Two air force ones, reanimate Babe Ruth, torture your pediatrician, end the Federal Reserve, a magic carpet, ridable dinosaurs, murder your baseball coach, a pet Xenomorph with non-acidic blood…” Santa took a deep breath and a pull of whiskey from his flask to recompose himself. He crumpled the list and dropped it on the floor. “All you little shits do is want, want, want, even the ‘good’ ones. It's enough to drive a man to drink.” He took another pull from the flask. “They don't even sell eggnog around here right now...”\n\nEd had regained consciousness long ago, but he didn't want to interfere with Johnny's beating. “Wouldn't a simple lump of coal done the job? Did you really have to show up in the middle of the night and beat my ass?” questioned Ed.\n\n“You're the one raising this little shit, and I'm through with coal. Everyone's all about ‘green energy’ these days. I can't afford coal. But beatings…” He took another pull from his flask. “Beatings come free of charge.”\n\nSanta began to work his way down the hallway. Ed and Johnny began to relax, knowing the danger was receding.\n\n“Oh yeah,” Santa added, halting his progress, “Gina does ‘karaoke’ at Racers on Fifth Street, right? You better believe that bitch is on my 'naughty' list.”",
"\"C'mon,\" Santa slurred, and dragged little Bobby Nussman out of bed. \"Put up yer dukes! Put up yer dukes! Ya little brat!\" \n\n\"Santa?\" Bobby said, and blinked. The old man's belly was swaying like a punching bag, the fur tunic come unbuttoned and his white wifebeater peeking through. The big brass buckle of his belt was undone. \"You wanna fight!\" Bobby shrieked, and kicked out, his bare feet bouncing off Santa's fat. \n\n\"You know what yer doing to your mother!\" Santa bellowed, his breath heavy with booze, and cuffed Bobby on the side of the head, sending him sprawling on the floor. Bobby scraped his face across the floorboards and tasted blood. \"Ya little brat! Ya selfish little brat! All tucked up tight on Christmas Eve like yer still expectin' something from ol' Santy!\" His cheeks jiggled, his face was flushed red. \"No one deserves anything, kid,\" Santa panted. He grabbed Bobby by the hair. \"But boy oh boy, ya sure do deserve this.\" \n\nBobby screamed and spat and fought like a wildcat, fingers clawing at Santa's beard and closing down on it and pulling it loose. Santa flung him down and towered above him, belly blocking out what little light there was. Bobby's eyes narrowed, staring up at the newly clean shaven face, and he set his little teeth in his jaw. His hands tightened into fists. \"I didn't believe in Santa anyway!\" he spat. \n\n\"Oh boy,\" said Santa, rolling up his sleeves. He slid off his belt and wound the big brass buckle in front of his knuckles. \"Oh boy oh boy. Ya thought ya were gonna get coal, huh? Oh boy. Yer gonna see just how right your old man was.\" ",
"On December 25, 2016, some parents awoke with the sun coming through their windows instead of little children bouncing all over the bed. *Was it possible?* they wondered. *Had their children really slept in on* **Christmas** *of all days?* Across the world, mothers and fathers rose from their beds and put on their slippers. They passed the decorated evergreen in their living room and entered their children's bedrooms, only to find them empty. And though the parents cried and wailed and moaned for their loss, deep down in their hearts there was just the slightest bit of relief. Because the only children who had disappeared were the truly *naughty* children.\n\n---\n\nElves with bull whips shepherded the children through the dimly-lit hallway carved through slick ice. Every time one of the little boys or girls whined or tried to question where they were going, they were answered with a resounding *crack* with the whip licking the air right in front of their faces. The elves, who toiled day-in and day-out to reward the good little boys and girls around the world, were more than happy to mete out justice to the naughty as well. Particularly the elves who had been assigned to the coal mines. \n\nThe teeming mass of children arrived in a gigantic underground room. The ones who’d been spoiled rotten sat down and wailed until their cheeks were red, but no one came to scoop them up and try to stop their crying. Those who were cruel and vicious tried to destroy the walls of the great arena, but they had nothing that would even scratch the ice. Still more tried to bully and humiliate their peers, dividing some of the naughty into strata of naughtiness in a Darwinian display. In only an hour of waiting, all of the children proved why they had been brought there in the first place. \n\nA spotlight snapped on at the far end of the arena, where the shadows were darkest. Santa Claus stood looking just like they’d always imagined. He wore a thick red coat, and a bushy white beard trailed down to his enormous belly. Some of the children gasped, thinking that their savior had come. But then they saw the look in his eye.\n\n“For a thousand years,” he growled, words slurring just a bit. A closer inspection would have revealed eggnog spilled across his collar and soaked into his beard. The children were too young to really understand “drunk,” though a few of them certainly saw reflections of their own fathers in Saint Nick. “I’ve gone ‘round the world carrying a whole sack full of coal for you brats!” His whole body shook as he belched. “Do you have any idea how *heavy* that shit is?”\n\nMore children began to cry. They couldn’t understand why *Santa* of all people was yelling at them the way that their parents and teachers often did. \n\n“Cut that out!” he barked. A few of them actually did. “Well today, we’re gonna settle this! Once and for all.” He raised his fists. “’Ere’s the deal. You all manage to take me down, and I'll bring you back home. And you get all the toys you want. ” The elves in the audience all exchanged looks; when Santa had told *them* about this impromptu battle royale, he hadn’t mentioned that part. And they were the ones who'd have to slave away in the workshop to fulfill that promise. “But if *I* win, then I ain’t never bringing you *nothing* ever again!” He was slurring more and more as he went on, and swayed gently from side to side.\n\nThe children all hesitated, but Santa didn’t. He stomped into the crowd with his big black boots and aimed a kick at little Tom Lewis from Modesto, CA. Unfortunately Santa's aim wasn’t so great in his intoxicated state, and he didn’t even come close. Instead, he ended up losing his balance and falling on his back.\n\nThe arena was silent. The elves had all assumed that Santa had an actual *plan* here and would use his magic. Mrs. Claus was just shaking her head and enjoying a tall glass of eggnog herself. But the children didn’t know how to react. That is, until Barry Deveret of Bushwick, Indiana stood up and shouted “GET HIM!” A moment later, Santa was buried under a hail of punches and kicks and bites.\n\nMrs. Claus just laughed as a cry for help managed to escape from under the dogpile of children. “Told you this would happen, you big fat-ass!” she cackled. \n",
"\"Nick, let me do this year, you're ruined.\" said Miss Claus \n\"Wha... No... *hic* I've got this.\" said the inebriated Santa as he fumbled into the sleigh. \"I don't need any help... WHERE'S THE COAL!\" he shouted, after seeing Miss Claus recoil he realised it was louder than he intended, \"Sorry.\" \nA little elf ran up with a small sack. \n\"Umm, Mr Santa...\" \n\"Hehe, he's tiny!\" Santa giggled as he pointed at the elf and looked at Miss Claus. \n\"Mr Santa, we're out of coal, we only have 12,000 lumps left, that's not even enough to cover the Southern Hemisphere. The Miner Elves have worked tirelessly these past months.\" \n\"Shit...\" \n\"Language\" demanded Miss Claus. \n\"Sorry dearest... Sweet Christmas, what are we to do? I'll figure it out *hic* I'm fine honey, go back inside. This snow is sobering me up.\" \n\"If you promise me you'll fly safely.\" she asked, \n\"I promise.\" Santa said with an honest looking smile. Miss Claus headed back inside. As soon as the door shut, Santa pulled a half squashed Eggnog carton out of his jacket and finished it off. \n\"Tiny man...\" \n\"Yes, sir?\" \n\"Fuck the coal, fuck it all. I'm just gunna give them something else instead.\" \n\"Like what sir? Dirt? Rocks?\" \n\"Nah, I'm not *hic* flinging dirt everywhere. What I'm gunna give the naughty children is... well... I'm... I'm... I-*hic*-m... gunna punch them in the face! Yeah, quick jab, jab, uppercut to the face. Pow! Right in the kisser\" Santa emulated his punches and nearly toppled off of the sleigh. \n\"Sir, I umm... with the highest of respect... that's not a good idea.\" said the elf, his hat in his hands as he looked down to his feet. \n\"Bugger it, too late now. haha, *You better watch out, you better not cry\nBetter not pout, I'm telling you why, Punchy Claus is coming to town.*\" Santa sang, opening a new carton of Eggnog, \n\"Sir, please, we ca...\" the elf tried to protest more. \n\"*HE'S MAKING A LIST AND CHECKING IT TWICE*\" Singing louder, \n\"I've got to get Miss Claus for this.\" The elf scuttled away towards the log cabin. \n\"*GONNA FIND OUT NAUGHTY AND NICE, PUNCHY CLAUS IS GUNNA PUNCH YOUUUU!*\" Santa stopped and realised the elf was gone. \"Bitchin'... I thought mini me would never leave. Time to *hic* go then.\" He slumped into the driving seat and grabbed the reins. \"Yippie Ki Yay, Father Christmas!\" "
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[removed] | [WP] You are running for president with 25 days until the election. Each day a new scandal comes out about you that is more outrageous than the last day. | 1 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"Hi there, this post has been removed.\n\nNo politics right now, sorry. It tends to draw the opposing sides into battles between small angry children wielding sharp objects. Nobody needs that. \n\n\n\n---\n\nPlease refer to the [sidebar](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/about/sidebar) before posting. If you have any questions or concerns, please feel free to send us a [modmail.](https://www.reddit.com/message/compose?to=%2Fr%2FWritingPrompts&subject=Removed%20post&message=https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/57am9v/wp_you_are_running_for_president_with_25_days/%0A%0A)"
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[WP] The guardians of the mystical forest pissed off the planet. | 3 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"We are The Brothers. We are The Atlas of this world. Surely as legend tells how he holds up the sky, we bare the weight of our home upon our backs to preserve that which is ours. \nWe are four, our number is four and four of us dwell here as overseers of each corner of this rock. One is the wind, the breath of the air. One is the waters, the vessel of life. One is the stone, soils and fire. One is different. The spore brought forth from us all. The stone wrought bone, the soils sprung roots the waters wrought blood and nectar. The winds move the fourth with life. \nHow many stars exist without the stirrings we have disturbed this one with? Countless dormant worlds that strike through the eternal void. Yet we have settled and made this one shake.\nWe feel ourselves diminishing passing from touch to ether. A conscious is born on this world. He is a creature, he is Man. It seems once energy is bestowed upon that which we choose to preside over its flow outwards no longer rests in our hands. We have made this world what is it, different from every other and this world is taking its mile from the inch bestowed. The creation has a new overseer, a hungry one and one that is hungry. We feel sorrow as this world will be devoured, though we are the stomach, man is the mouth that will react to its hunger. \n"
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[removed] | [WP][TT] The year is 2050 and the Conclave of Cardinals elects you, the 60-year-old Archbishop of New York, to be the next Pope but then you anxiously remember your old Reddit/Facebook/Youtube posts. "Do you accept?" | 1 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"Hi there, this post has been removed.\n\nResponses must be at least 30 words. Prompts that are likely to generate such responses are also not allowed. This is basically a fill-in-the-blank, or you left a trailing question. Try re-phrasing so you are asking for a story. \n\nEnding with \"Do you accept\" is very likely to generate low-effort replies such as \"Fuck yes\" or \"Hell no.\" Try re-phrasing so you encourage a story. \n\n\n\n---\n\nPlease refer to the [sidebar](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/about/sidebar) before posting. If you have any questions or concerns, please feel free to send us a [modmail.](https://www.reddit.com/message/compose?to=%2Fr%2FWritingPrompts&subject=Removed%20post&message=https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/57aur8/wptt_the_year_is_2050_and_the_conclave_of/%0A%0A)"
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[WP] When you die, you meet the grim reaper. It presents you with a choice: move on the the next life or take its place. | 9 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"\"What will my next life be like?\" He questioned, looking around the endless white void before blue eyes returnd to the dark, foreboding figure. The man saw that this Grim Reaper may have once had a human form itself, but over time, or perhaps in an instance, had simply become a force of nature with a constant shifting shape.\n\n\"That is not an answer I can give. What is on the other side of this plane I cannot say.\" The voice of the Reaper seemed to echo throughout the void, and in the confines of the dead man's own head. It held a power only granted to those who brought forth the grace of death to the living. \n\n\"What will happen to you? How long have you been a Grim Reaper?\" The formerly living man worried for a second that he may be questioning too much, but time did not seem to touch this place and the higher being showed no sign of annoyance. Or any human emotion. \n\n\"That is a decision I make after you have made your own,\" it said, silhouette still shifting. For a second it appeared to be a short man, and then a woman with hair blacker and longer than any night sky, and then a creature of mythological creation that had yet to be told in any known story. Before the man could digest the appearance of one shape, it had already moved on to the next. It was almost dizzying in a sense. Freeing, even. To be anything and anyone to the dying. \"I have lost track of time long ago, for it is trivial matter in a place like this, but have asked this question of the millions that have been brought here.\"\n\nMillions, and they all said no? He did not voice this question. Began to think that if he did his curiosity alone would have him here for an eternity, asking questions of a creature he could never truly know. Just as he had never truly known the people he surrounded himself with back on Earth. So many questions then, so much time wasted looking for answers. He never did get most of them, did he? The man blinked, looked around once more at the calm sea of white, and then took an unneeded, steadying breath, \"I want to take your place.\" \n\n\"It is done,\" the Reaper immediately declared, enveloping the spirit in darkness before any sense of regret could be felt. \n\nThe Grim Reaper who had once been a father so long ago moved on to the unknown, and the dead son turned to a Reaper for the same unknown, who soon came to reap his own father's life. The question posed to him not asked of the old man, for the father had not followed his son's sin in inflicting death upon himself."
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[WP] After again escaping from Arkham Asylum the crime boss known as the Joker has been sentenced (in absentia) to death. Government forces are moving to arrest him, but all the world's superheroes are refusing to assist, awaiting the response of one of their own … the Dark Knight. | 4 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"He sat, cross-legged, on the chair, meditating. The calls didn't stop coming, but he didn't respond. He had to think. He took in a breath.\n\n\"Bruce, this is Clark. Call me.\"\n\n\"Bruce, please don't tell me you're considering this? Call me. Oracle can help.\"\n\n\"Bruce, I know I'm probably the last person you want to hear from, but I think you should do it. Love you, Selena.\"\n\nHe exhaled. It wasn't doing any good. He tapped on the keyboard, opening up the line for the FBI. No camera feed, better to keep them guessing as to where he was.\n\n\"The United States Government does not wait, Batman,\" the Director hissed.\n\n\"No one will help you catch him without me. I believe I have the upper hand, here,\" Batman answered, calmly. The Director didn't answer.\n\n\"Why now?\" the vigilante asked. \"Why go after him now? He's been my responsibility, and the government has recognized him as so, for a very long time. What changed?\"\n\n\"We have decided that keeping him alive is no longer a tenable situation,\" the man responded.\n\n\"Don't lie to me,\" Batman growled. \"I've read all your files. Best tell the truth.\"\n\n\"That's a federal offence!\"\n\n\"You don't seem to care when my federal offences benefit you. Now talk,\" Batman fiddled with a gadget he was building.\n\n\"He's the first. A pilot programme. We intend to kill all of the mass murderers you call supervillians,\" the Director admitted, reluctantly.\n\n\"I'll call you back,\" Batman disconnected the call. \"Clark?\" he whispered. The Man of Steel instantly appeared beside him.\n\n\"You heard the call, yes?\" he glanced up at his friend. Clark nodded. He could see the veins in his neck stand up just a little, the way his fists were curled just a bit too tight. The Kryptonian was angry.\n\n\"What do you want to do about it?\" Clark looked at him. The heroes always deferred to Batman, for a variety of reasons. Most importantly, he was the only one who knew how to navigate the complex intersect of law, politics, and morality that they were so often stuck in the middle of.\n\nBatman pulled up a stack of folders onto the table. He handed one to Clark. The superman glanced at him, then read it, in the blink of an eye.\n\n\"Are they all-\"\n\n\"Yes,\" Batman nodded. He knew exactly how that file read. 'Poison Ivy: Reccomended Strategy for Target Elimination'.\n\n\"I'm not surprised you have this, Bruce, but do you really want to do it?\" Clark looked at him, with that Boy Scout concern. They both knew Batman's one rule. He inhaled a ragged breath, and thought about that conversation.\n\n*Batman cut the wire, and disarmed the IED. He headbutted the man, dropping him to the ground. Batman sat on one of the chairs, the mission over. He didn't like these conditions, and he'd wished he had more time to prepare. The sand of Iraq worked its way into his suit, and the heavy material was unfit for the desert environment.*\n\n*The only reason he was here walked over. The true leader of the FBI, Cynthia Parker. \"Thanks, Bruce,\" she grinned at him, taking a seat beside him.*\n\n*\"Why don't you want to use the guns?\" she shouldered her rifle, securing it with the strap.*\n\n*\"We've had this argument, what? Eighty times now?\" Batman chuckled. \"Let's skip to where we left off.\" Cynthia wasn't the first to raise the argument, but she provided the most stimulating points.*\n\n*\"Look, we arrest these guys, hand them in to their local government, they'll be out in days. With the men you fight, it's the same thing. The Joker's killed how many people?\" she asked.*\n\n*\"And if I start killing them, then what separates me from them?\" he asked, in return.*\n\n*\"You protect the people. The people you love. Isn't that enough?\" she frowned as Batman flinched. She'd struck a nerve. It wasn't her fault, but it hurt to recall... that.*\n\n*\"Look, Bruce, you're fighting a war here. Don't pretend it's not. There's a tactical advantage I know you can see. You're a smart man,\" she insisted, getting up. \"Either way the favour you owed me is done. Thanks.\"*\n\nBatman wasn't sure where he stood now. He'd had a number of reasons why he didn't kill. One that he wouldn't stop killing, one that he had to draw the line. When he really asked himself though, he just thought of Chill, shooting his parents. He didn't want to be like that. Never like that. But when he thought of himself grabbing the gun and shooting Chill, he wasn't sure what he felt. Or maybe he knew what he felt and wasn't sure if he approved of it."
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1,
4
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"1476423078",
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[WP] It's another ordinary day for the devil. He wakes up and looks at his schedule for who wants to sell their soul today. As he makes his way down the list he notices there is a person with more then just their soul to sell. | 3 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"\"Oh, you're early!\" The devil ignored the other man's offered handshake in favour of glaring at him instead. \n\nThat didn't stop the man from continuing his dreary little monologue though. \"Do you want any tea? Or coffee! I have this amazing new coffee machine you know-\"\n\n\"Why are you on it?\" The devil interrupted. If he had to listen to any more of the man's inane chatter he'd be the one losing his soul. \n\n\"On what?\" At least the human had the decency to get rid of that stupid little grin in favour of a more confused expression.\n\n\"The list.\" The demon replied, too annoyed to elaborate. \n\n\"There's a list? That's hilarious!\" The human then had the audacity to Laugh, his hands clutching at his sides as his body vibrated.\n\nYeah, the human was definitely going to be ending up in hell early today. \"There has ALWAYS been a list, human! Your puny little opinions do not change that.\" The demon paused. \n\nThe back of the human's neck grew red as he waited for the devil to continue. \"So what!\" He finally exclaimed, unable to stand the wait anymore.\n\nSmirking at the human's frustration the demon finally continued. \"The problem is that you appeared on my list, promising me 5 souls. It's a strange thing to see from someone who doesn't even have one.\"\n\nThe man's face brightened after hearing the explanation like he had just had an epiphany. \"Ah, yes, that! Well, you see it's all part of this new business I'm setting up.\"\n\nThe devil raised an eyebrow. \"What?\" \n\nThe human, sensing the need for more details continued \"you see, loads of humans want to sell their soul for wealth and fame but most are scared of performing the ritual incorrectly. Which is where I come in.\"\n\n\"You?\" \n\n\"Well I did successfully manage to sell my soul to you a year ago, so I have the expertise necessary.\" The man pointed at himself proudly. \n\nThe devil blinked. Then blinked again. Wanting more money even after having been given all the wealth one would ever need. Such a human quality, it should have been obvious. \"I don't appreciate being used as a pawn\" he finally growled.\n\nThe human frowned. \"Wha-\" he began to say, but didn't have the time to finish as the demon grabbed him, dragging him down to the deepest depths of hell. "
] | [
1,
1
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"1476552309",
"1476560333"
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[WP] Write a tale/story involving your surroundings or your mood. Feel free to involve anything from genres to events. | 3 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"The house was cluttered, with nothing in particular. There were toys that needed picked up, clothes that needed folding, and dishes that have sat in the sink for two days. She didn't have the energy today, the pain was too much but the pills made her too tired. She resolved to try again tomorrow, knowing that she wouldn't have time.\n\n\n She gave her son his meds, took her own and a sad attempt at enforcing bedtime was given but it was refused as if a question instead of a demand. Three hours later she curled back into her bed, still in pajamas from the night before. Work would be a struggle, she could barely stand today and imagining ten hours on her feet was too much. \n\n She closed her eyes, waiting on her dreams to come in waves. She had a dream once that she woke up with no pain, and her child was well. They went to the park on a summer day and ran around together. Something so simple, was so far out of reach. She didn't want to wake up from that one. She was depressed for days, but the world doesn't stop. The days blur together, and there have been too many bad ones lately. She's given up tonight, as the tears fall from her eyes. One day, it will be better. "
] | [
1,
2
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"1476572585",
"1476577195"
] | |
[WP] Write a story in which the discovery of a cellphone terrifies the protagonist. | 11 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"The kids were tucked quietly into bed, and not a moment too soon, either, Amelia had been dealing with their rambunctious antics all day long. The sixteen year-old former pageant queen sighed an exasperated length of air as she fell back on the couch. \n\nThe home she now sat the kids in was massive, and it was so empty. Six bedrooms, seven bathrooms, a sunroom, and a kitchen large enough for their on-hire chef to cook meals for them. Of course, the cook had already gone home for the night, and dinner had long since been prepared for the two little cretins that she had tucked in only half an hour before. So the popcorn in the microwave was hers, and the buttery smell was wafting her way already.\n\nAmelia smiled, though, as she brought her cell phone up in front of her face and video called her boyfriend.\n\n\"Hey, baby.\" The voice on the other side said with a devilish smile. \"You're alone, aren't you?\"\n\nAmelia smiled, \"Yes, but don't get any ideas, you!\"\n\n\"I could come over and be real, *real*, quick.\" \n\nWhen the microwave beeped from the kitchen behind her, she stood up. \"I'm sure it would be quick.\" She smiled sheepishly and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. \"But you can't come over.\"\n\n\"I'm already getting in my car!\" He said, louder than normal, grinning from ear to ear. The sound of his car door closing was audible in the background.\n\n\"Jamie, no!\" She laughed and took her bag of popcorn out of the microwave and dumped it in a bowl. \"Don't you do it.\"\n\n\"I can't hear you, la - la - la - la!\" He said. \"I'm losing connection. Beep! Beep!\"\n\n\"I'm serious!\" She shouted, still laughing. When the screen went black she shook her head. \"I'm gonna get in so much trouble.\"\n\nBut she went to the couch and sat down and turned on the television. Netflix roared to life on the screen. Would she watch romance? No. Drab. Comedy? Not tonight. Horror? Of course. She could handle being scared a little, and if it was too bad, Jamie would be there soon. \n\nAs time went on, Amelia eventually began to wonder where exactly her boyfriend was. It had been half an hour since their call, and it only took fifteen minutes for him to get here. Just as she considered peering out the window, she heard a loud thud. She jumped. \"Damn it, Jamie.\" She said out loud, and huffed. As she began to fidget, her phone rang with another voice call. This time on the other side, it showed live video inside the house, in the dark hallways upstairs where the kids bedrooms were. She whispered, \"Jamie, that's not funny. How did you get in?\" Then the screen went black, and another thud. \n\nAmelia jumped up off the couch and held a pillow and her phone tight in her hands and she slinked around to glance up the long dark staircase. \"Jamie!\" She whisper-shouted. \"Get down here.\" Then she heard the sound of the microwave shut. Hadn't she closed it before? How did he get down there? She turned and stomped into the kitchen. \"Jamie, that's not funny!\" She yelled, obviously irritated by her fear. But when she stepped into the kitchen, she saw nothing except Jamie's phone on the counter, and the screen lit up.\n\nAs she approached the phone she realized that there was something on the corners of the screen. Was that... blood? And a video sat ready to play. She reached down and touched the play button. \n\nAs the sound of the rattling microphone stabilized, she could hear Jamie whimpering. A gravelly voice came on, \"Say your name. Tell her your name!\" A raspy chuckle followed. Jamie looked at the camera, fear and tears in his eyes. He said his name. \"Now spell it!\" The gravelly voice said again.\n\nJamie began spelling his name. \"J... A... M...\" and as he said \"I\" whoever was holding the phone proceeded to shove a screwdriver into Jamie's eyes repeatedly. The screams were unbearable.\n\nAmelia dropped the phone and covered her mouth. Fear kept her utterly silent as she backed away from the device, now stationary on the floor. As she backed away, she glanced to her left only to see Jamie's car in the driveway. \n\nThen she heard the thud again. ",
"Your a doctor. You're in the process of giving a patient a colonospopy. You're probing with the camera and find an old silver flip phone. Scared and hoping the sedative doesn't wear off you reach your hand into the patient's bowel and extract the phone. You open it, (it's in working condition), and press redial. You shakily put it up to your ear. Your wife answers."
] | [
1,
2,
3
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"1476574522",
"1476579783",
"1476577156"
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[WP] You have the power to see how many people someone has killed, based on a number above their head only you can see. Most people are at a zero, but one day you spot a particular toddler with a 109. | 62 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"Talking to myself \"I've always had this weird pow-\", \"W-w-what's that?\" While I take off my glasses, clean them and rub my eyes. \"Am I hallucinating? Has this toddler really murdered 109 people?\" I walk and approach its guardians \"hello!\" I greet them, they reply with a dead voice looking at me \"hello, are you the so called prophet?\" They asked \"Prophet?\" I reply confused \"he is supposed to take our baby because she is dangerous for some reason\" \"I see, they just haven't realized what their baby has done or what it might actually be!\", \"is she your daughter?\" I asked confidently, while getting an answer from the 17 month old toddler \"did you just assume my gender?\"\n\nMy first story please go easy on me",
"At first, I didn't know what the numbers meant. It's something I stopped bringing up once I realised that other people couldn't see them, and that mentioning it would only elicit strange looks and visits to a therapist. When my brother, who'd always had a 0 above his head, came home, clammy and pale faced, with a 3 hovering above him, I wondered what it meant. I stopped wondering when the police paid us a visit, and arrested my brother on 3 counts of manslaughter as a result of drunk driving.\n\nOf course, the numbers can be a bit disquieting. I try not to judge. It's usually not straight up murder, and I get that accidents happen, bad things, good people, etc. But shit, I couldn't believe it the first time I saw this kid. \n\nHe was only about 2 years old, but above his tuft of soft blonde hair, the 109 stuck out, stark and bold and imposing.\n\n“He's such a great boy, a really good sleeper, so you shouldn't have any trouble with him.” His mother looked normal. What the hell was wrong here? \n\n“We'll be back around 10pm. Feel free to watch a movie, we have a pretty decent collection.” The father was also a perfect model of suburbia, with his thick rimmed glasses and sweater vest.\n\nAs soon as they left the house, I checked the kid. He was in his crib, already fast asleep. I began to research. I rummaged through desk drawers and cabinets, sifting through files and certificates and toys and asthma inhalers and packets of formula and the other mundane nonsense of this young child's life for any information I could find on why he had 109 above his head.\n\nA clipping from the newspaper gave me the first clue. 'Outbreak of whooping cough ravages children in Helmsville'. Guess who was patient zero? About 20 other kids weren't so lucky. The second came after some searching on the Internet, 'Childcare centre in Stuartholme County devastated by fire; 49 dead.' Countless others were injured through smoke inhalation. They still don't know how he got the matches. Freak accident at the zoo; tragic situation at a local swimming pool; first birthday party ends in disaster – these things just seemed to keep happening around him.\n\nWhen you're given a power, I believe that you should use it in a way that helps others. You're destined to try and do something with it. Maybe this kid was just unlucky, maybe he was cursed, maybe it was a all a coincidence, but I could already tell that he was not destined to help others. \n\nI babysat the kid a few more times. He passed away in his sleep. Doctors weren't surprised. The kid had a bad pair of lungs. \n\nMy number's been sitting at 1 for a while but I'm okay with it now – as I said, I try not to judge. ",
"What does your average fifteen-year-old expect when he is called to babysit a distant relative's six-months-old baby? Some crying, some singing the baby to sleep, in extreme cases, possibly changing the diaper, that's all. It was supposed to be easy money. The little bugger was supposed to go to sleep and I was supposed to watch TV until his parents came home and paid me five dollars per hour. The money would have gone to my skateboard fund and I would have gone to sleep with a satisfied smile.\n\nAll that plans jumped out of the window headfirst into the ground with a loud *splat* when I saw that vibrant green colored \"109\" floating into the smiling baby's head. The writing was beautiful as if written in some kind of exotic font. The color suited the text; it created a harmonious amalgamation of ... \n\nThe hell I am thinking about!? 109? Fucking 109? \n\nCalm down, calm down. Long breath, yeah, that's like it.\n\nI suppose an explanation is in order. From a very young age, I have seen a floating number on top of everyone's head. It drove my parents nuts, their little angel look up at something invisible and laughing with glee everytime uncle Ernie came to visit. Thankfully, it used to cheer up the perpetually depressed uncle Ernie. Things had never been the same for him since Vietnam. Good bloke, pity he killed himself, though.\n\nThe mystery of the numbers resolved when I happened to witness an event that was enough to induce PTSD in a normal 10-year-old had he not been too busy noticing the change of the floating 0 to a 1 than the actual stabbing. It was then that it clicked. Why uncle Ernie had a \"10\" on his head and why most people had 0. \n\nLife after that was hard. I became obsessed with the numbers. I would focus more on those floating count of murder than the person himself. I never went to my best friend's home because of the \"2\" on his mother's head. Mathematics, my favorite subject became my weakest overnight because of the floating \"3\" on Mr. Wilson. It was hard.\n\nOf course, five years of coping with my obsession that my parents never quite understood and my therapist cried tears of blood over, I was gradually starting to become normal again. The trick was to just treat them as numbers, nothing more. I was making a great progress too. Until today.\n\n\nPart 2, anyone?"
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[WP] Chess is played with 32 pieces. One night 32 people over the world are transported to a marble room with a checkered floor. Each person has a name tag with their role. With medieval weapons, the teams must clash, following chess rules, surviving winners will be granted freedom. You are a pawn. | 147 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"I'd heard of the games, of course. Everyone had. How could they not? One night, every month, 32 people were transported to a chessboard, assigned their ranks, given time to decide how their team would make their moves, and then they would play. Nobody was chosen twice, but that could just have been because there were enough people in the world that their number hadn't come up twice. If you were 'taken', you died. The game was even streamed online. I'd watched a couple.\n\nWhat the stream never showed was the specifics. It only showed it as a normal game, where you could hover your mouse over a piece and see who they were. When I arrived on my turn, I understood why no one had talked about what it was like. I was holding a short sword, and a shield. Everyone around me also held weaponry. To take someone, you had to kill them yourself.\n\nThe first thing that happened was that the two kings walked up to each other and shook hands. I guess it was because only one of them would survive - draws resulted in a replay, but the dead stayed dead, their pieces displaying NPC when moused over. Then they came back to their teams. I was a black pawn, placed in front of the king. Our king gathered us around.\n\n\"Listen, I'm a Grandmaster, let me deal with this. I'll get as many of you through this alive as I can.\" I was only a novice at chess. I knew that I should have been practising, just in case I got chosen, but the burden of responsibility was gone. I, along with my fourteen other teammates, deferred to our king.\n\nThe whites seemed to have decided on their own method, and we all got into place. I was nervous. What little I knew of chess told me that this was a high risk position. Giant screens showed on either side of us, showing the state of the field. Pulsing gently at the top were the words 'White to play'.\n\n\"Pawn to G4.\" A woman to my left walked forwards two squares, and stopped. The board updated itself, showing the move, and now telling us that it was Black's turn.\n\n\"Pawn to E6.\" It took me a moment to realise that it was me who had to move, and I walked the one square forwards, my heart in my throat. I wasn't in danger yet, but I was still our first move. I felt light-headed, but I couldn't pass out, not here.\n\nI looked at the white king, who gave a wry smile. \"Pawn to F3.\" The pawn in the rank one to my left walked forwards a single square. Everyone looked up at the board, checking how this would go. Our king cleared his throat, gathering the attention of all the pieces on the field.\n\n\"Queen to H4.\" Our queen, a fat, balding, middle-aged Chinese man strode to the square H4. Quietly, but in a voice that carried, our king said \"Checkmate.\" The screens either side concurred. The king's broke ranks, and strode to the middle. The white king knelt, his sword placed on the ground in surrender. The black king raised his sword, closed his eyes, and swung down, taking his enemy's head. The screens showed a countdown until we returned home. It was five minutes.\n\nThe black king explained to us that he wasn't really a Grandmaster, that the white king had been suicidal, and about to hang himself when he arrived here. He explained that the white king had told him this, and the moves to make while they shook hands, and he thanked the rest of the black team for trusting him, and the white team for trusting their king.\n\nAs the timer on the screens hit zero, we were transported back to our homes. My wife hugged me tighter than she ever had before, relieved that I was safe, and I hugged her back, just as tight, appreciating my life, more now than ever before. I hoped that I was done with those games, that I would never find myself on the board again.",
"All I remember is a white flash, and I was out. I woke up. I couldn't tell how much time had passed. I looked around to a square room and the others, mostly men in their 20s like me were looking as confused as i was, evenly separated to either side of the room. In fact, there were only two women: one behind me, and one on the opposite side of the room. The people on my side had been put into white jumpsuits too big for any of us. The other side's members were dressed entirely in black. I stood up and took notice of the black and white grid we stood on, and the dark black walls without an exit. There was no apparent light source, but i could easily see everyone in the room.\n\nThe tall man behind me spoke first. \"It's a chess board.\" I nodded. Although it was a bit of an obvious fact, I still felt as though it needed to be pointed out. What I was fearing, however...\n\n\"We're the pieces.\"\n\nThe room was silent as we looked around at each other, too afraid to move. Finally, a middle-eastern man dressed in black from the other side of the room started to babble in Arabic as he took a step forward, but as he tried to step onto the square in front of him, his knee made a quiet but audible crack and he fell backwards.\n\nA message appeared on all four walls. WHITE TO MOVE, it read. I looked at the man behind me for some sort of guidance, but I got more than I'd bargained for.\n\nHe looked me dead in the eyes and told me to walk two squares forward. I looked to the other side of the room, and back at him. He raised his eyebrows expectantly. I held his gaze as I backed into the middle of the room.\n\nThe message on the walls changed. BLACK TO MOVE.\n\nThe black pieces argued and fought through language barriers for what seemed too long. Eventually the majority directed the man in front of me to walk forward to the square in front of my own.\n\nThe tall man behind me ordered the guy that had been to my left to move one square forward, and the game began.\n\nI don't play chess. I don't know the rules, although I would have given anything for a rulebook. I knew enough to fear for my life. How were we to \"take\" another piece?\n\nThe tall man on our side seemed to know a thing or two about chess. Every turn he gave an order, and eventually he told the woman next to him to take a square on the right side of the room, which was occupied by the middle eastern man mentioned earlier. She looked back at him, confused, and then a broadsword fell from above and landed in front of her. She picked it up. They whispered to each other. She walked to the designated spot. I closed my eyes, but i heard him scream. When i opened my eyes, he was dead on the floor, and the sword was gone.\n\nMore moves. More murders. Luckily, we were winning. It wasn't even close, as far as I could tell. I saw it all from the middle of the room without moving once until we killed the man that had been in front of me the whole time. After that, I was moved forward several times. The black pieces lost more members. Before long, there remained three black pieces, and both were getting very close. The tall man grinned. \"Mate in two moves.\" He gave an order to the woman that had already killed three people, and she obeyed with tears streaming down her face. At least this horrifying game was about to end. Maybe I would have gotten to go home. But I hadn't been paying attention.\n\n\"I'm sorry,\" the man said to me. A sharp pain erupted in my back.\n\nGame over.",
"I.AM.A.PAWN.\n\nThat was literarly a thought forced into my head as I awoke to find myself on a huge chess board. I shook my head to clear it of that singular thought, but it was hard. Not only did the words linger, but the mere archetype of a pawn was somehow being forced into my mind. I tried to resist it but I found myself moving forward.\n\nAs I had completed my movement, my awareness suddenly went away for an undetermined time. Then as a switch had been turned on, I was back again, with the same message burning itself into my mind. I.AM.A.PAWN. This time it was even worse, with compulsive thoughts that were obsessively pressing in from all sides. I knew I was worthless, I knew I was to serve, I had no other purpose than to be sacrificed or to take out another pawn. I quickly looked around and saw that all pieces had moved while I had been in my unaware state. Before I had anymore time to think I was moving forward, but this time I found myself stabbing an anonymous figure with a dagger, blood was everywhere and I found myself feeling disturbingly happy at having shown how useful I was. Then my awareness switched off again.\n\nI.AM.A.PAWN.\n\nI felt a sense of grim determination as I came back again, I knew my role, I knew my purpose. I moved forward and this time I felt triumphant that I would do my best to help the player succeed. I saw evidence of other battles around me, blood and bodyparts strewn across the board. I saw the white pieces, oh yes, to hell with all of you, to hell with all of you, die die die!\n\nI.AM.A.PAWN.\n\nSomething is wrong now, so many of the valued pieces dead now. The pieces that are so much more worth than me, oh lowly me with nothing to do but to serve. I feel so sad now that I see them dead everywhere, why couldn't it have been me? WHY DID IT HAVE TO BE THEM!? I move forward again, but I know it's too late, sooner or later someone is going to take me out and I deserve it. I'm a horrible waste. I don't deserve to live. I try and kill myself, but I can't lift my dagger. \n\nI.AM.A.PAWN.\n\nI have reached the end of the board, as I step onto the square, I feel a sense of freedom.. no of change. My clothes change, I can feel my body reshaping itself, no.. my whole awareness becoming bigger, more shining.. oh I'm feeling so ... so regal.......\n\nI AM THE QUEEN.",
"I was up browsing Reddit, mid kitten gif - when it happened. The air in my lungs was sucked out and it felt as though I were being squeezed through a vacuum tube. What I saw on the other end is something I still have trouble wrapping my brain around.\n\nA vast marble room, chiseled with intricate patterns and designs I could not for the life of me place. Blinding fluorescent globes of light hung, fifty feet up, seemingly without any tether. It reminded me of every movie with a hospital room birth scene. The overwhelming, intense white light giving way to strange, new surroundings. A black and white checker pattern dominated the floor. And...People? Thirty-two by my count. All strategically positioned within the confines of a checkered square of their own. That's when I noticed it. I don't know how it took me so long. I was in clad in fucking medieval armaments. And not even the good kind! I was wearing shitty leather armor and your run-of-the-mill short-sword was strapped to my back.\n\nMoments after this shocking revelation, a voice on my left.\n\n\"*First timer, eh?*, the man said.\n\nA gruff sort of fellow whose appearance teetered the edge between groomed and gnarled. He was geared similarly. \n\n\"*First timer...for what?*\", I managed to scrape out of the back of my throat which had grown a tight knot.\n\n\"*Look above your head. See that text? You're a pawn, just like me*\"\n\n\"*So this is like...chess?*\"\n\n\"*No. This is chess on an elephant tranquilizer and mixed steroids cocktail. This is like if you took chess, made it VR and gave all the pieces barbaric weaponry used to dismember one another. Oh - and we're the pieces.*\"\n\n\n\"*Well, shit.*\"\n\nA whistling sound, and then a kerplunk. The pawn, my teammate? It didn't matter anymore I guess, an arrow just went through his eye courtesy of a rook on the other side of the room. \n\nHere we go, I guess...\n\n\n\n"
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[deleted] | [WP] Death is on strike. You are tasked to talk him back into his job but are scared that you will be the first person he takes once he is off strike. How do you complete your task without also dying straight after? | 6 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"**'No.'**\n\nOther than its simple proclomation, the cloaked figure standing before me said nothing. It stood on the edge of a cliff, the of its scythe blade pointed towards the sea. Below it, cloth seemed to drape into the oblivion below, black as the moonless night. The being was tall, taller than any man I had ever seen, but stood stooped, cowed as one chained by fear, or regret, or perhaps some otherworldly thing that mere man could never dream of.\n\nI panted for a moment, struggling to catch my breath in the thin air. I glanced around, trying to get my bearings, and was struck with awe. Above me, the clouds, silver and red and black and golden, whipped around with violent ferocity, with cracks of mighty thunder sounding in the distant, just far enough to be heard, but muted, as though the chaos flowed ever onward and around outside the safety of Its domain.\n\nBehind me, massive pillars marked the path I took through the Pandemonium towards It. It was a treacherous path, with otherworldly wind whipping around you and torrential cascades of rain attempting to strike you down at every step. When the journey began, we were an expedition of eight. Now, I alone faced the Reaper of Souls.\n\n**'Your journey was in vain, little mortal.'** The Reaper turned its head slightly, enough for me to see the edges of its hood. Its voice was at once a melody, luring me to eternal sleep, and a growling whisper as loud as a scream. The two tones conflicted in my mind as they resounded with one another, impossible to reconcile. It was beautiful, and terrible, and gave me one hell of a headache. In the dichotomy of its voice, the Reaper seemed to begin to laugh, a very odd sound indeed. **'You are a strange one, little mortal. You stand before the end of your life in physical form, and the thoughts I find in your head speak of a particularly powerful headache.'** I winced in something between embarrassment and shame.\n\nDeath reached upwards, leaving his scythe embedded in the ground where it had stood before. its hands, a strange metallic grey, grasped the sides of its hood and pulled, revealing silver hair down to its shoulders. It turned around. Its eyes were a powerful crimson, bright and beautiful beyond the depths of mortal language, and its features were an odd blend of fair and wise, young and old, tired and curious, that, along with its metallic grey skin, gave it otherworldly beauty. It seemed to be- No, it was smirking. **'Tell me, mortal... Am I what you expected?'** It spread its arms and stood straighter, towering over me, for this brief instant no longer chained by whatever had cowed its pride before. As quickly as he stood, Death fell to its other pose once more. **'Ah, yes.'** It grimaced. **'You are here to plead with me to return to my duties, yes? You believe you can succeed where so many others, older and wiser than you by a scale of time you cannot begin to imagine, failed?'**\n\nI hesitated. It must've shown on my face, because Death scoffed at me. **'You do not even know why I have ceased.'** I furrowed my brows, and tilted my head in a silent question. With the rest of our interaction having been voiceless, it somehow seemed inappropriate to begin asking now. Regardless, Death rolled its crimson eyes. **'And now you, in all your human arrogance, expect one of the two oldest beings in existence to set aside its time to regale you with a story that you will not understand.'** Before I could even begin to feel embarrassed, Death suddenly smiled. **'I suppose, in the end, that's exactly it, isn't it?'**\n\n**'You humans have always been His greatest achievements, you know. The angelic hosts are perfect, but they are *too* perfect. The beasts of nature are free, but that are *too* free. The trees and plants of your world are controlled, but... Well, you get it, don't you?'** Death smirked. **'Of all of His creations, the humans are the only ones too wise to resign to chaos, but too naive to know their place. And, at the end of their lives, I become the ferryman to Hades, bringing the only thing in Existence with truly infinite potential to a fate where they can do nothing with it. That, little mortal, is why I ceased.'**\n\n**'Everything in existence is bound to its place and rank and file. Inspiration and imagination do not come from an ethereal plane, they were *created* by Humanity. Do you begin to understand the power in this? Before you, before the mortals, creation was a domain occupied by only He-Above, and He used it sparingly. To mortals, though, to the folk of Adam and Eve, you cannot seem to stop. Every breath that you take, your mind races with the untapped and uninvented. Only three times in all the endless aeons of existence has the status quo ever changed, and all three were because of Mortals.'** Death began to laugh once more, suddenly and without warning. **'Well- Four now, isn't it? Your myths and histories claim that God grants you inspiration. I know not whether this is true- Even to me, His secrets are His alone. But I do know that either way, the mirror of this has become true- You mortals, in your impossible combination of boundless naivety and wisdom without end, are an inspiration to those you perceive as above you.'**\n\n**'Without Man to create the concept, do you think that the Lightbearer could have ever betrayed his Father? Without Man to bring forth the idea of change, do you think that I would have ever even thought of abandoning my solemn duties?'** Death paused, staring at me for a long moment, in quiet contemplation. Without its powerful voice, the world seemed muffled, too quiet, eerie and empty. The Reaper finally sighed, and looked me in the eye once more, almost reserved in its speech. **'Without Man to invent Good and Evil, dear mortal, do you think that He could have ever truly become Good? The more cynical minds of your world once claimed that Man invented its own Gods. No, this is not true- You are far more powerful than that. You *changed* one.'**\n\n**'That is why I have my duties.'** Its voice was downcast, tired. **'You are too powerful for your own good. I know this, and for so long, I abided, allowing your fates to play out. At last, when I had deluded myself into thinking that maybe you had grown wise enough to understand what powers you held, I did this.'** It tilted its head, looking through me in idle resignation. **'And yet, here you are. You would send mere mortals to the plane of Pandemonium to face Death personified. So powerful, that you have this ability, and so naive, you would use it. I will return the world to one of death and rot, mortal, your leaders have my assurance.'** The Reaper winked at me. **'Although... Perhaps the status quo is still too idle for me now. Tell your leaders, mortal, that I will return the world to death... And perhaps Death will return to the world. We will meet again soon, and not in the way you expect.'**\n\nAnd then...\n\nIt was over.\n\nSo many questions, from so many people back home. I did not answer any of them, not at first. I simply smiled, although now, I don't know why, and I don't know why I said what I said, nor do I know to whom I said it.\n\n\"Thank you.\""
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[removed] | [WP] You are Barely Immortal Man. You have the ability to heal from any wound, but only up to the point where normal human healing can take over. | 2 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"Hi there, this post has been removed.\n\nCopy-cat prompts (taking a recent prompt and changing only a small detail) and recent reposts (even unintentional) are not allowed. Please search the sub before submitting. If your idea is based on something you read elsewhere on reddit, chances are it's been submitted here already. http://i.imgur.com/38FjDgW.gifv \n\n\n\n---\n\nPlease refer to the [sidebar](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/about/sidebar) before posting. If you have any questions or concerns, please feel free to send us a [modmail.](https://www.reddit.com/message/compose?to=%2Fr%2FWritingPrompts&subject=Removed%20post&message=https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/57s3zj/wp_you_are_barely_immortal_man_you_have_the/%0A%0A)"
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[WP] The Roman Empire never fell. Tell a story from any time period after the empire and how the technology was adapted into the culture of Rome. | 7 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"Gaia crossed her arms. She was sick of waiting.\n\nShe was short for an empress: 5'1\", but no one laughed at her for that. At least, not twice. She wore a simple tunic of Tyrian Purple Kevlar, paired with her platinum warshoes. Her outfit augmented her black hair, which came neatly down around her shoulders, complementing her grey eyes. The eyes of a Caesar.\n\nA green light appeared above her door. It was ready.\n\nShe hurriedly uncrossed her arms and rushed to the door, composing herself along the way. It had taken much pain and many dead man to bring her to this moment, she would not ruin it by behaving like a child.\n\n\"You. Are. The Empress\" she reminded herself, and she walked out the door.\n\nOutside, her Praetorian Agents assumed their normal positions around her. She trusted them, they had served her father well, and now they served her. They walked to the Control Room, where Gaia found herself getting excited. \n\nSorting through her memories calmed her down, brought her order, so she sat and reflected, while the room flurried with near-silent activity around her, the scientists too frightened to make a sound. \n\nThe Americans had tried to put up a fight, but without their British allies they'd been no match for her forces. She'd always tolerated their existence before now, but they'd simply gone too far. The sky is the realm of the gods, and they had tried to breach it. Send one of their savages into space. Gaia knew better, she knew of the fire the gods would rain down on them. When she ordered the country nuked, and the spacecraft stolen, the American President had called her begging for mercy. She had laughed and hung up. The ground forces had made quick work of the rest. \n\nOf course it was after that she'd found out the gods didn't exist. Oops. That didn't matter. People always made more people. And hers were the best. Unfortunately, it had taken them some time to fix the spacecraft, but the missions there were successful too, and broadcasted to every television in the Empire as the Imperial flag was placed on the moon. CPQR. Caesar Populusque Romanus. People cheered and praised Caesar for her accomplishments. This was 3 years ago. She'd only been seventeen at the time, Empress for one year. Now it was time for the real test.\n\nThe panel in front of Gaia turned on. 2 minutes. 2 minutes before her dream could finally take form. 2 minutes for a Roman landed on Mars. She grinned. She knew everyone in the Empire would be watching this moment, but she would get to see it first. The scientists completed their final checks and were escorted out by her guards. She was alone again, and she liked it that way.\n\nSuddenly there was a commotion outside. Men shouting and what sounded like fighting. Gaia scowled. One minute to go, and this is what happened? If someone ruined this moment for her, there would be consequences.\n\nShe barged the door open \"What's going on?\"\n\nHer guards were holding a haggard old man outside the room. \"Empress\" he pleaded \"Please don't let this happen. The gods can never forgive us this.\" \"They-\" One of her guards hit him in the stomach.\n\n\"Sorry, Empress.\" he said, abashed. \"We'll take care of him.\"\n\n\"No.\" she said \"I want to listen.\"\n\nThe man's eyes grew hopeful \"Thank-\", and then she plunged her knife into his throat, leaping back to keep his blood off her tunic.\n\n\"Take it away.\" She said, her eyes cold. \"And give me your knife\", she added to the nearest guard, sheathing it in her tunic.\n\nShe re-entered the room and sat back down. 4. 3. 2. 1. They had landed.\n\n\"Aha\" said a man's voice behind her, \"Quite the planet they've named after me.\"\n\nGaia spun around slowly. Her instincts were screaming that this man was power, and power begets respect.\n\n\"I don't quite follow\" she said, pressing the emergency button under the console. \"Who are you?\"\n\n\"You already know the answer to that, filia\" he smiled. \"After all, you did just land your spaceship on me.\"\n\n\"You're-\"\n\n\"I am\" said Mars. \"Walk with me child, for we have worlds to conquer.\"\n\n"
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[deleted] | [WP] Write a story from the villains perspective of a popular video game franchise and try to rationalize the stupid decisions they make when trying to stop the player. | 16 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"Ok, we admit it. We here at Abstergo Industries are basically your typical evil corporate organization found everywhere in bad movies and video games.\n\nSome people might scratch their heads when they find out that we've expanded from the drug business to the gaming world. Most would think it's outright stupid that we'd use out super advanced gene reading machine to make games of all things. Not only that but games where our long hated enemy, the Assassin brotherhood, are absolute badasses. It's basically reverse propaganda!\n\nBut hey, at least our decisions actually make sense.\n\nI mean think about it for a minute. Searching for a chunk of metal with mind dominating abilities is a long term investment. Our shareholders were getting antsy in their pantsy so we decided to make a game, which is reasonably cheap to make when you have everything already encoded in genes.\n\nNow, at first we thought we should use our genes to provide the story, but who would like an overzealous religious knight screaming about pieces of Edens all the time. Boring!\n\nBut assassins. Assassins are bloody awesome, especially since the latest release of call of duty XII: revenge of the mechanoids. We made a crap ton of money with the latest release of assassin games set in London! Heck, even though we ignore our fans complaining about setting the game in Ninja Japan they're still loyal to us! Who needs the pieces of Eden when you can make games with the same effect!\n\nGranted, that beta tester guy, Desmond I think his name was, did release an old A.I hell bent on conquering the world. But were not worried about it. We've made two games since that whole debacle happened and nothing changed.\n\nWe still search for the pieces of Eden of course. Our shareholders would be mad if we ditch that plan. But between you and me, we're not that interested in it anymore. Every time an assassin is found sneaking through our headquarters in all white, we just ignore them. We try to stop them here and there, disconnect them from the Animus from time to time but they can have all the pieces for all we care.\n\nSo yea. That's our reasons. Money. Even an evil corporation like us has shareholders. So if you are interested in a great investing opportunity, then go to our website for a prospectus.\n\n(Elsewhere)\n\nThe CEO of Abstergo industries sat at his desk, looking deeply into a picture on his desk. After a dozen multi-billion dollar businesses he had created, he was still not satisfied, for Steve Jobs is never satisfied. \n\n\"Are you proud of me now Daddy?!\""
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[WP] A child's first work gives a clue into their future occupation (car=mechanic, ball=athlete, boo-boo=doctor, etc). Your child's first word gives you reason to worry. | 2 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"\"Mama!\" she says, holding out her chubby little hands to you, and in that instant your blood runs cold. Your husband is grinning, looking down at her and glancing up at you, all the while without seeing the stricken expression on your face. He picks up your baby girl, bounces her in his hands, as she squeals 'Mama! Mama!' in joy. Your own hands are clutching your dress, the shock so sharp that you are ashamed of yourself. You force yourself to let go, you force yourself to reach out for your precious baby girl and take her out of your husband's arms, and you force down that thought. It didn't mean anything, you think, looking down at her chubby cheeks. Maybe she said her first word while you slept, while you were not there to hear, come the thoughts seeping back in like a betrayal. \n\nIt doesn't mean anything, you tell yourself, as you cradle her and coo, your husband's arm across your shoulder. It was a normal reaction, and nothing more. After all, what parent doesn't want their child to have a better life than them? ",
"Words cannot describe how excited I was. \n“Gen! Come in here quick!” \nI was more nervous than I had ever been in my life. \n“What is it sweetheart!? Is James okay!?” \n“He’s fine, Gen. I think he’s about to say it.” \nMy son was my world. \n“Oh my god!” \n“I hope he chooses right!” \n“He doesn’t get to choose, darling… But I sure hope he chooses right too!” \nIt only took a single word. The first word. \n“Come on James, you know the word. Just say it.” \n“Oh hush, he’s going to be a doctor. Our little James is going to heal the world.” \nA lot of parents tried to teach the words, they tried to tip the scales. \n“You can do it, bud. Engineer. Just like your old man.” \n“...in...inj...in...” \n“I told you it’s too big a word for him. Come on James, you can do it, say Mend. Can you say Mend for mommy?” \nOf course we were no exception. \n“...muh… mih… in…” \n“It’s going to be a close one, Gen.” \n“Shh, he’s about to say it. Come on, James, you can do it.” \nWe were told it would be one of the happiest days of our lives. \n“...enj...meh…imj... “ \n“Almost there!” \n“...eh...uh...eh…end!” \nWe were told it would be one of the happiest days of our lives. \n“...Gen. Did he just say-” \n“James. James, honey, what did you say?” \n“...ehn… end… end… end…” \n“Sweetheart... I think... What does it mean?” \nI remember so clearly. She never took her eyes away from him. \n“He must mean mend there’s no way. End isn’t a job. It can’t mean anything!” \n“...end, end, end, end, end, end...” \n“Gen, please… calm down...” \n“Who’s not calm? I’m fine! My son’s going to be a doctor!” \nShe was lost in another place. \n“We both heard what he said.” \n“No, Ben! I didn’t hear him say end, he never said it.” \n“I think we need some time to think about this... figure out what we should do.” \n“Ben,” \n“...end, end, end, end...” \n“What is it, Gen?” \n“Ben, I can’t do this.” \n“Hey. Don’t talk like that. We can find a way to make this work” \n“...end, end, end, end...” \n“No… No, Ben… I… I just can’t” \nGen was my life and she left that night. In the end maybe it was better for James, better for both of us. Even though he didn’t have a mother, he seemed to be growing up fine. I told everyone his first word was mend like his mother always wanted. I told them the marriage just didn’t work out. He was normal in everyone’s eyes. \n“Alright, buddy, let’s build another, okay?” \n“Another!” \nJames loved building. He and I would use the big wooden blocks his grandparents gave us. James loved building. He especially loved building towers as tall as he was. I watched with pride as my son created entire worlds in his mind. I watched him smile as he toppled them."
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[WP] There is a 2-4 week window in which the sun lies between Earth and Mars, making communication impossible. Thirteen months after the first Mars colony is established, one planet decides to pull the greatest prank in human history. | 902 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"The first rays of sun beamed through the windows as they slowly crept down the walls and lit up the room with a bright orange. Miguel sprung from bed, knowing immediately by the brightness of the day that he was late for work (yet again). He was a bit of a party animal, the kind of guy who's always the last to leave or when he does leave the party dulls. Last night was no exception and the day came quicker than he had hoped. \n&nbsp; \nHe threw on some pants, stumbled around with his shoes and snatched an old tie off the night stand tucking in his shirt on the way out the door. They say that being successful in life is about who you know, and Miguel seemed to know everybody. He would be the first to tell you that he didn't become the director of interplanetary relations through research and studying; he got there by being very witty, clever and by having an unsurmounted talent for social interactions. \n&nbsp; \nEven the director of interplanetary relations has a boss, and Miguel's boss, Victoria, was a serious one, especially during the current season. It was April, and the famous 2-week long event, \"Mars Opposition,\" was about to begin. During this time Mars would pass behind the sun, causing a complete communication blackout between Earth and Mars. The recently colonized Mars hadn't yet experienced this bi-annual event, since the first pioneers only colonized Mars some 13 months prior. \n&nbsp; \nMiguel trotted into the building, fastening his tie as he tried to slip into his office unnoticed. \"Miguel...\" Victoria said, her voice raising. \n&nbsp; \n\"Yeeeees ma'am that's me! What can I do for you.\" he replied as if he didn't know what she wanted. \n&nbsp; \n\"Come into my office.\" \n&nbsp; \nHe stepped into her office and braced himself for the inevitable. \"Look, it's no secret you were the class clown okay? So, some of us here at the office were talking, and we thought it might be kind of fun to play a little prank on the new Martians what do you say?\" \n&nbsp; \nMiguel was utterly shocked. He was no stranger to pranks, in fact he was well known for being a major prankster, but this, coming from Victoria was a total shock. \"Uhm... what did you have in mind?\" He hesitated as he tried to measure the situation. \n&nbsp; \n\"Well, I don't know, something fun. We won't have much to do for the next two weeks since we'll be out of communication so I thought it might be fun to prank them somehow. I'm sure they're nervous about the blackout so it may help ease the tension before it goes 'dark' over there. I'll leave the details to you, this is out of my realm of experience.\" \n&nbsp; \nMiguel played a pivotal role in establishing and maintaining communication with the newly colonized planet as the first explorers landed and established a base, and it was he, and he alone, who would be responsible for communicating any final words before the blackout. He knew his Martian counterparts well enough from 13 months of constant communication so finding an appropriate prank would be a breeze. \n&nbsp; \nThe entire communication process between planets is still a bit strange. The internet only works locally to each planet, and communication between planets is limited to a direct line from the department of interplanetary relations where Miguel worked and the base station in Mars. While there was only one line of communication, anything that was communicated over the line was live broadcast to the planet on each end. This helped raise interest and therefore funding in the program and was a big part of why Miguel had a job. \n&nbsp; \nAfter some thought and upon finishing his morning routine Miguel chuckled to himself as he pondered a few clever pranks. He wanted to be careful to prank them before the blackout to lighten the mood. He remembered that they took with them a limited supply of Oxygen, which would be refilled with later expeditions to Mars. \"This would make for a great prank subject,\" he thought to himself. \n&nbsp; \nAs the blackout approached Miguel made his way to the comms room for the final exchange before the first ever Mars-Earth blackout. \n&nbsp; \n\"Mars, do you copy? This is miguel with the DoIR checking in for final comms.\" Miguel got online and began broadcasting to Mars. The communication delay was severe enough that broadcasting was the best approach. Computer systems would time out waiting for a response otherwise. \n&nbsp; \nA few minutes went by when the response came in. \"Hello Earth! How is everything? We're so ready for your silence!\" Alex jokingly beamed back from the Martian base station. \n&nbsp; \n\"Look, Alex, I need to be serious with you for a second. Listen closely. We gave you a limited supply of Oxygen, as you know, until the next expedition arrives to replenish the reserves. The engineering department just came back and told us they failed to account for the added weight of the reinforced tanks, and your supply is drastically limited. Nobody should be doing exercise or... ANYTHING that might involve... say heavy breathing okay. To be clear, nobody should be having relations or anything you need to conserve your oxygen!\" Miguel and others in the room burst into laughter after he stopped the transmission. \n&nbsp; \n\"You don't honestly expect the entire colony to remain abstinent for two weeks do you?\" the room roared as they waited for a response. \n&nbsp; \nSeveral minutes went by without a response, when finally (a little later than they had though) they were contacted. \n&nbsp; \n\"Migu--l, your transm---ion -as break--g up. M---age uncl---. Received, oxyg-n supply depleat--ng. Plea-- resp--d. --ecuting emergency ret-rn mission. I rep--t, executing em---ency retur- miss---.\" came the reply. \n&nbsp; \nMiguels face ran pale, the entire room immediately fell silent. What was a hilarious joke just got very serious. The communication blackout was a much more rapid process than originally anticipated. Communication was supposed to be clear for hours to come, but the transmission was already distorted. Immediately Miguel got on the horn to stop the evacuation. \n&nbsp; \n\"Alex... Alex, NO! It was a joke. Respond IMMEDIATELY. I repeat DO NOT EVACUATE.\" \n&nbsp; \nHe sent the reply immediately as not to waste any valuable seconds recording more. Minutes went by without a response. He sent several transmissions but there was nothing. \n&nbsp; \nMiguel sat staring blankly at the monitor as the realization of what just happened began to sink in. He just played a prank that would result in the most devastating evacuation in human history. The entire colonization of Mars would fail and for what? A laugh? \n&nbsp; \nEverybody in the office was rushing around, scrambling to inform engineers and decision makers to try and prevent the evacuation. Media outlets were already whirring with headlines of \"Failed Mars Mission costs planet Trillions.\" \n&nbsp; \n\"Victoria, oh my God, Victoria, I... I don't know what happened, I just told them they couldn't have sex and now it's blown so far out of proportion. We have to stop this evacuation. Communications blackout is in full swing!\" Miguel tried to compose himself, but was frantic. \n&nbsp; \nWorld leaders were notified of the returning colony and preparations began immediately to welcome the returning Martian pod. Without the luxury of planning for such event construction started on a landing pad in the Midwest United States. The emergency return pod was only equipped to leave Mars and return to Earth, but didn't have the capability of landing safely. A $200 billion orbiting space station would intercept the evacuation ship and return it to earth. \n&nbsp; \nHours turned into days and days into weeks. Miguel was shamed and knew he was goign to lose his job. The only reason why he hadn't yet is because He would have to brief his replacement on how the communication equipment worked. His replacement arrived, and Miguel met her with sadness. \"Hello, I'm Miguel.\" he said, not the usual jokester he once was. \n&nbsp; \n\"Yes, I think the whole world knows who you are.\" quipped Rachel. \n&nbsp; \n\"Okay, well let's just go over the equipment and how you'll be communicating with the Martian escape pod when it comes back into range.\" \n&nbsp; \nThey both sat down at the equipment and Miguel explained to Rachel how to run the quipment. \"Let's just do a trial run, so, go ahead. Remember to use the right channel.\" \n&nbsp; \nRachel tuned the channel and sent a trial broadcast. \"Earth to Mars Evac 1 do you copy?\" \n&nbsp; \n\"Okay, that looks right to me.\" Miguel said with a sigh. \"Lets go over some of the meetings you'll be doing with the other department heads.\" \n&nbsp; \n\"Hey earth! Copy! Mars Evac 1? Did Miguel put you up to this? Where is he?\" Alex's voice came in over the radio. \n&nbsp; \nMiguel rushed to the radio brushing Rachel to the side \"Alex, come back, what is the status of your evacuation?\" \n&nbsp; \n\"What evacuation? Miguel, we weren't serious! We got your message about conserving oxygen, and just to be safe, we did. We were just kidding about evacuating. Why would we evacuate without a specific evacuation warning?\" Alex seemed geniunely confused about the complete mayhem that has been Earth for the last two weeks. \n&nbsp; \nMiguel didn't even know how to respond. Was this better or worse than the alternative? \n&nbsp; \n\"Alex, you bastard! The entire planet is in an uproar preparing for your return! How could you do this to us?\" Miguel grew angry. \n&nbsp; \n\"Whoah man, it was just a prank, you started all this!\" Alex replied. \n&nbsp; \nMiguel again, had to make his rounds explaining the new situation. News outlets were listening to the broadcast awaiting updates, but this, this was an update they could only dream of. Headlines immediately started running \"greatest prank in human history?\" \n&nbsp; \nMiguel returned home, defeated, exhausted and globally humiliated. His career was over. He laid in bed, and wept until he fell asleep.",
"Commander Anuj Bilel, COM director on MarStat001, paced the 20 foot expanse of the radio room. His rhythmic footfalls were the only sounds in the room save for the hush of static emanating from the speakers. Another 60 seconds and the Interplanetary Silence (I.S.) would come to a close. The colony had followed operation procedure flawlessly over the course of the month. The absence of disaster during the I.S. was an overwhelming success not only for the colonists, but for humanity as a whole.\n\nJunior officers Arnett and Majilang poised at their respective stations. They exchanged a glance between themselves every couple of seconds to acknowledge the overwhelming energy in the room. Most of that abundance of energy was a direct result of Bilel's brisk back and forth. They'd finished COM maintenance hours ago. They were tuned to appropriate frequencies, double checked every half hour since zero hundred hours central earth time. Bilel commanded Arnett to triple check the speaker volume.\n\n\"Yes, sir,\" said Arnett.\n\n\"Twenty seconds,\" Majilang called.\n\n\"Countdown from ten,\" Bilel instructed. He stopped pacing. Perspiration began to condense on his neck. He didn't attempt to blot it away, but remained at attention, eyes trained to the communications monitors studding the radio room walls. His fists knotted into one another behind his back.\n\n\"COMs open and locked in, Commander,\" said Arnett.\n\nBilel grunted acknowledgement, unable to tear his eyes from the screens.\n\n\"Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven.\" said Majilang.\n\nThe timing was calculated so that the second Majilang said 'one,' was the exact moment that COMs between Earth and MarStat001 could be reestablished. \n\n\"Six. Five. Four.\"\n\nBilel shifted imperceptibly from one food to the other. His focus snapped from Majilang's station to Arnett's and back. \"Prepare to receive transmission,\" he said.\n\n\"Three. Two. One. Zero.\"\n\nSilence would have been preferable. That'd at least signify that *something* was transmitting to them. Instead, the blanket of static that had settled over them remain undisturbed.\n\nBilel and his officers had triple checked everything. If something had failed, it hadn't been from their end.\n\n\"Sir,\" said Arnett, after a moment. \"What should we do?\"\n\nBilel didn't bother asking the two of them to check their work again. \"Majilang, hail Dr. Peters here to the radio room stat. We need to run those calculations again.\" Bilel's voice seemed distant from himself.\n\n\"Sir,\" Majilang said, springing to her feet and sprinting from the room.\n\nArnett's fingers danced furiously across the keys and switches in front of him, investigating every potential interruption in the signal from earth. The I.S. had been tolerable because it had been foreseeable. The colony had not only survived, it had thrived in the absence of higher order from earth. Terra-forming was already ahead of schedule and agriculture had filed incredibly promising reports. Lack of communication from earth after today would place the colony in a precarious situation. Order would remain for a while, at least, but without the promise of supplies from earth in the future, mutiny was sure to be on the horizon.\n\nMajilang burst back in to the room, Dr. Peters in tow. The older man's skin was pasty, his eyes wide. \"The calculations are entirely accurate,\" Dr. Peters said before Bilel could address him properly. \"I ran them again just an hour ago, and triple checked them with my colleagues on earth before the I.S.\" His pale eyes bore into Bilel, unrelenting in their self-absurdness. \"You *should* be receiving transmission from earth.\"\n\nCommander Anuj Bilel cursed. Arnett's fingers continued their frenzy across his keys. \"Junior officer Arnett. Remain here to monitor COMs. I will patch you through to the conference hall. We need to alert the entire base and gather the commanding officers to discuss our next steps.\"\n\n______\n\n\"Arnett, do you copy,\" said Bilel.\n\nArnett's voice crackled in through the intercom, \"Yes, sir. Any communications from Earth will be relayed to you directly and immediately.\"\n\nCommanding officers from each discipline were arranged around the long rectangular table. There were thirty there in all. The colony was on total lock-down, their fate pending the verdict of this discussion.\n\nBilel stood before them. \"The I.S. persists,\" he said, looking directly at General Edmonds, the highest ranking officer on Mars.\n\n\n\n",
"Chapter VII - The First Interplanetary Civil War\n\nWidely Considered one of the greatest blunders in human history, the First Interplanetary Civil War (henceforth referred to simply as FIC War) happens at quite an atypical time in human history. While humanity itself had established tenous colonies on Mars for about 200 years at this point, humanity's ability to manipulate gravitational forces was extremely weak, meaning that when the sun was directly between the Earth and mars, an event happening once every 27.3 years, communications were impossible as humanity did not yet have the ability to set up intra-solar communication satellites.\n\nIt is not within the scope of this textbook to discuss the development of human progress for such a discrepancy to occur, yet is nonetheless critical to the catalyst of this bloody affair. \n\nDuring the time, tensions had been abnormally high between Martian colonies A1B and 3C4 (the reasons should be made clear in Chapter 4), yet it was nothing to much to worry about as at the time Earth politics were considered of far more importance than Martian ones, and no one paid any heed to such developments.\n\nHowever, on the night before the disconnect was to happen some disturbing reports were reported to the UN intelligence agency (still unknown to the larger public at the time, see Chapter 9 for more detail) suggesting that anarchists had been planning to take over key military installations in the two colonies had use them to fire nuclear warheads on one another (the warheads were placed there in accordance with the 312th Versailles Accords). And just before communications fell, several cries for help and/or simply screaming were to have been sent by colonists to their relatives.\n\nWhat follows is a quite indicative of human nature and a culmination of Terra-superiority that stayed for years to come. The majority of the population celebrated, glad to be rid the \"Martians\" as they were referred to. the Purist party, which was the main contender for the UN senate next election had increasingly encouraged followers to demand what was theirs, they reasoned Mars was just a leech on Earth's resources, when, in reality, Mars was an invaluable resource was raw material. \n\nNevertheless, when the period of silence ended and Mars was able to be contacted once again, it was reveled that it had been a prank, that is, a practical joke. \n\nNaturally, there were riots on the streets of Earth, some radicals calling for Mars to be nuked anyways. Martians were distraught, and claimed the Earth's ugly prejudices had come to light.\n\nAfter the AC5-S tower and Mt. Oc6 terrorist incidents (discussed in Chapter 8), tensions boiled over and the Martian Corps attacked the lunar base, at the time still loyal to Earth.\n\nAlthough seemingly foolish and rather funny in a morbid way, some historians argue that the war was a necessary diffusion of tensions, that it forced prejudices into light. Regardless, the fact of the matter remains: a bloody civil war that stretched for 2.6 years started because of someone's sick idea of a practical joke.\n\n***\nIt's supposed to be an entry in like a history textbook. Low on time today, so I decided to try a non-traditional way to tell a story all while taking some jabs at textbooks themselves.\n\n\nFeedback is appreciated.\n\n(minor edits)",
"James woke up feeling unnaturally happy. He didn't expect the lack of comms to hit him so hard, but being the only person on a planet without any form of communication had gotten to him.\n\nRegardless. Today was the day. He could finally communicate with the world again. \n\nHe got up, showering and preparing his morning coffee. He knew it seemed silly, but he didn't want to seem overeager, like he was too excited. He felt like he needed to be strong for everyone back at home. \n\nJames sipped his coffee, watching the Martian sunrise. It was a thing of beauty, it really was. He heard the comms unit whirring to life, and he smiled. It was time.\n\nThe screen in front of him turned on, and his commanding officer stared back at him. He felt a shudder of relief. \n\n\"Greetings, sir,\" James said, putting his coffee down on the table. \"How are things back on Earth?\"\n\nThe commander smiled. \"Great! Just great, how about you? Can't believe it's already been two years, eh?\" \n\nJames frowned, then smirked. \"Two? It's been just over a year, get your head straight!\" \n\nThe commander narrowed his eyes, then laughed. \"Ah, James! Always a sense of humour on you. Listen, I'll be right back, we've been having some anomalies back here-\"\n\nThe screen suddenly shut off. James sat there in silence for a while, contemplating what happened. It had only been a year, he was sure of it. \n\nHe got up, and all the lights abruptly switched off - causing him to accidently knock his coffee to the floor. He swore, kneeling down to clean it up, and noticed the date on the comms screen. \n\n*2 years.*\n\n25 months. How could this be? \n\nThe screen switched on, with the commander staring back at him. Was he wearing a different outfit?\n\nJames felt sick. \"Sir, I don't know what's happening, but, I don't know.\"\n\nThe commander looked concerned. \"What is it?\"\n\n\"I think... I think something's wrong here, sir. You're going to think I'm crazy, but-\"\n\nThe commander burst out laughing. \"Calm down man, just a practical joke. One of the interns figured we could change the ship's date remotely, and we just couldn't resist.\" He laughed again, wiping a tear from his eye.\n\nJames wanted to be angry, but honestly all he felt was an immense sense of relief. He forced a laugh. \"Good one, commander,\" he said gritting his teeth, \"nice job with the lights especially.\"\n\nThe commander looked at him, confused. \n\n\"The lights..?\" He turned to a man at his side, who shook his head. Then he leant closer, peering at James with concern.\n\n\"You doing ok, son? We haven't encountered any errors in your ship's log. Could it-\"\n\nThe signal dropped out, leaving only static on the screen.\n\nThe lights briefly flickered, casting him in a flashing darkness. Then the screen switched on, and the commander gazed at him, wearing a different outfit and looking somewhat more weatherworn. \n\n\"James! Good to see you, good to see you. Sorry about our lack of communication - four years today, eh? Big day!\"\n\nJames stared at him. This joke had stretched on too long - but how had he switched outfits so quickly? And how had they made him age like that? He looked at the date.\n\n*Four years.*\n\n\"Sir, please, Enough of this. I don't know what's happening, but if you could-\"\n\nThe lights flickered again, and then the whole ship was cast in darkness. Then, just the screen switched on, and a regal woman stared back at him. \n\n\"James, we'll get you out soon,\" she said, her face slowly softening. \"My God... it's like you haven't aged a day.\"\n\nHe looked at her wildly. The date blinked, flashing across his vision.\n\n*12 years.*\n\nJames struggled to hold himself together. \"Ma'am, I don't know who you are, but where is the commander? What the hell is happening?\"\n\nShe stared at him with concern. He could just make out her whisper to someone offscreen, \"we need to get him out quickly.\"\n\nShe turned her attention back to him. \"James, please, whatever you do, *don't let the dark-*\"\n\nThe lights went out. No flickering, no sounds. Just pure and utter black. \n\nAnd in the darkness, James screamed. \n\n*****\n\n*****\n\nIf you didn't completely hate that, consider subscribing to [my new subreddit.](https://www.reddit.com/r/CroatianSpy/) \n\nI'll try add new (and old) stories every day <3"
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[WP] You, a professional prankster have been hired by someone to play a prank. However when you took the job you didn't expect the victim to be a easily irritated crime lord, nor did you expect the aftermath to end up in a bloodbath. | 4 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"Normally I would have rejected the guys request, as it was on the extreme end of what someone would still consider a \"prank\", but it had been a slow month and I had nothing else to do. I always make stupid choices when I'm bored.\n\nThis guy apparently had a neighbor that he'd been having a one-way passive aggressive battle with. A dog digging up his garden or something and leaving notes that never resulted in anything. I don't really remember as it's always something stupid or petty in this line of work. He wanted his tires emptied, something that delivered glitter, and a note that said \"You can't ignore me forever\". Again, a bit extreme, but whatever.\n\nThat evening before I'd quickly emptied the tires with a modified cap that I just had to screw on and go. A larger manila envelope with the equivalent of a party popper rigged to go off when opened with the note inside. Nothing all that complicated and the setup went without a hitch.\n\nMost of the time I try and get a video of the results for both the customers and to cover my ass should anyone try and flake on payment. So I spent the night in the rental car with an alarm set for 5 A.M. to make sure I got everything captured. I'm not normally surprised anymore with how people react. A lot of times it's laughter, anger, surprise. All pretty standard stuff. This guy, he was something different and I should have known right then, but as he walks out to the car and sees his tires flat he simply grabs the envelope. You could tell he was suspicious as he turned it over a time or two checking it out, but opens it anyway. Popper goes off as expected, covering him in glitter, and I swear you'd think he didn't even notice.\n\nReaching into the envelope he pulled out the note. This apparently is what did it. He immediately looks around and I'd swear he looked right at me despite being hunkered down in the backseat almost half a block away. Grabbing a cellphone and dialing quickly he quickly made his way back into the house. I gave it five or so before shutting down the camera and hoping back into the front seat and pulling out to head back to the office to get everything processed. No more than thirty seconds after getting out onto the road three cards come flying around the nearest corner and pull into the dude's driveway. Another serious red flag, but the job was over so who cares.\n\nGet back to the office, get the video quickly cut down and uploaded, and email the customer with the info and bill. Spent the rest of the early afternoon running following up on a couple of possible leads and running a few errands including the grocery store. Overall had been what I'd thought a normal, albeit slightly stranger than usual, day and was pretty content so just decide to head home.\n\nSitting down with a sodium packed microwave meal and Trounce my sixteen-year-old cat was about the time I'd found out what exactly I'd set in motion. The 6 o'clock news flashes on and their mid interview with the chief of police.\n\n\"...arrived on the scene and there was a brief shootout with the remaining suspects before securing the scene. We're still interrogating the few survivors but it seems like this is the result of gang on gang violence. We'll be releasing additional information at a press conference later this evening. Thank you.\"\n\n\"That was the chief of police commenting on the events thus far. For those tuning in just now we're following what appears to be a violent shootout between the Russo and Bianchi crime families. Eye witness accounts state that at least four cars pulled up outside this shore side fish processing plant and opened fire with automatic weapons. Current count is at least forty-five dead and fifteen wounded. One witness stated he saw Antonio 'Quick Fuse' Russo, the gangs long sought after leader, himself participating in the assault.\"\n\n\"There is still much information that we're trying to verify and the police are still working to secure and process the scene. We'll be releasing updates as soon as they are available. This is Amanda White reporting on the scene.\"\n\n\"Holy. Fucking. Shit.\", I muttered to myself, my dinner forgotten on the tv tray in front of me.\n\nI was out the door in less than five, headed back to the office to wipe any hint of the video I'd recorded earlier as well as any record of the guy I'd dealt with. I'd have to get my public number disconnected in the morning before skipping town. Last thing I needed was having to deal with the police. Normally I'd be worried about the mobsters, but it sounds like they'd done a good job of murdering each other.\n\nFinally climbing into bed, Trounce jumped up to join me.\n\n\"This is the last time we change identities for a dumb fuck Trounce.\"\n"
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[WP] Your blind friend has asked you to explain color to them. Half-way through explaining, you realize you have never seen color before, either. | 26 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"I was walking down the street today just like any other average day just day dreaming when I trip over something and slam into the ground. I look up behind me and see that it is my blind friend Sarah and I have just tripped over her probing cane. She immediately starts apologizing until I say \"it is okay Sarah, it is just me Liz.\" We both bust out laughing. I ask her \"How is it going?\" and we begin to walk down the street together. \n\nSarah is on her way to english class while I am heading to the art hall to work on my end of the semester project. We are complaining about the stress of the end of the semester when Sarah says \"Liz you may actually be the perfect person to help me with a question I have been having since you are an artist. No one seems to be able to describe to me what color is like. Do you think you can help?\" I say \"of course just give me a second to think about it.\"\n\nI begin to think on how to best describe this. As a painter color is critical to my work but how to best capture this to someone who can not see anything. I think about all of the lectures I managed to hop out of bed for discussing color theory and the $200 textbook I bought on it too. None of it seems to be giving me ideas and I begin to get slightly frustrated. \n\nI begin to think of it differently through my other senses and tell Sarah \"it is just like any other sense, like tasting how you perceive different taste you perceive different colors.\" She is visibly not very happy with the answer and says \" I have been told that by others, but it just does not seem to capture what color must really be like.\" I begin to feel bad that I can not help her with something I should have no problem doing when I tell her \"it is just different wavelengths of light that we see differently.\" \"Liz, do I look like a fucking science machine\" We both giggle and I say \"no.\"\n\nWe get to campus and I tell Sarah I will keep thinking about her question and I will get back to her and to have a great rest of her day.\n\nI get home at night and I am laying in bed and the problem of describing color has not left my mind for one second. I can not stop obsessing over it and I am actually starting to feel a bit crazy. I think how I have used red to depict flames or green to show the detail in a trees leaves. And then I think have I? or is that just what I read to do? I can't stand it anymore and I jump out of bed and google the color wheel. I really look at it and then this moment of horror comes over me. They are all the same. I feel like someone is playing a cruel prank on me and I call my mom.\n\n\n",
"I held an apple in my hand for reference. This was red. I had to somehow distill the essence of this red apple into an adequate description for Jeff who had just asked me to explain to him what exactly a red apple was. Jeff was blind, not stupid. Here I was though, feeling stupid, trying to explain a property that this apple had, that I couldn't even explain to someone who was able to see. If a sighted person had asked me to explain color to them I would have made some brief grunting noises and probably just said, \"You know red?\" \n\n\"Color,\" I began, \"is really just the way we interact with sunlight. It's a part of the visible spectrum that is a result of light absorption and reflection. Uh, I don't know all the science but...\" \n\nJeff punched me in the arm. \"Do you think I'm stupid? I've read what color is. I want someone who has sight to explain to me color.\" \n\n\"Uh, well you know how people have different skin tones?\" \n\n*Shit*, I thought, that was quite possibly the worst thing I could say to someone who was blind. *Hey let me introduce you to my black friend and then explain how racial differences are rooted in no real biological science but cultural aversion to phenotypical differences.*\n \n\"Look,\" Jeff began, \"I know you're trying hard and I'm going to ignore that you're going into a potentially contentious place. But I just want you to tell me what your sensation of a red apple is. Just give me red.\" \n\nI turned to the apple and tried to make something out of it. *Red is anger right? People see red? How does red make me feel though? How do I explain that unique experience you get when you see someone wearing a red piece of clothing?*\n\n\"Just tell me how it makes you feel,\" Jeff was losing patience with me. \n\n*Red is... Red is red.*\n\n\"Red is red Jeff,\" I said and then punched him in the face. I continued to shout at him, \"Red is the color your seeing right now while whatever stars or sensations you are experiencing accompany the punch I just gave you. Red is red!\" \n\nBlood trickled down his from out of his nose—Had I punched him that hard--and I started crying as I reached over to him. \n\n\"I don't know,\" my tears fell on his shoulder as I'm sure his red blood began to drip into my hair, \"I don't know what red is anymore.\"",
"\"Red,\" I said, \"is very shiny. Like, when you rub your hand on glass, you know? It's slick, it's smooth. It's, uh, it's very round. Like a glass bead, pretty much. That's it. Red is like a glass bead.\" \n\n\"Really?\" Josie said, her nose wrinkling up. She was loosely twirling around her cane as we both sat on my front porch. \"I can't say that's how anyone else has ever described it to me.\"\n\n\"Really? What do they say?\"\n\n\"Oh, you know.\" She leaned back. \"It's like fire, it's very hot, passionate, exciting.\" She made a fist and flung her fingers out. \"A very energetic color.\" \n\n\"Really?\" I said. \"Huh. Anyway, blue. Blue is ... like a length of fabric, unfolded. It's very flat, you can run your hands over it. But, like, it's very thin, too. So it's like there's nothing there.\" I snapped my fingers. \"Oh! You know the story of the Emperor's New Clothes? If there was a fabric that could actually make clothes like that, it would be blue.\" \n\nJosie frowned. \"So blue is invisible?\" \n\n\"Basically,\" I said. \n\n\"Eric,\" she said. \"Are you fucking with me?\" \n\n\"What? No! Of course not!\" \n\n\"Eric!\" She swatted at me with her cane and rapped my shin. \"I've asked other people what colors are like, you know! And they're all like, blue is cool, the sky is blue, the sea is blue, ice is blue, yada yada. Not one person has ever told me it's invisible!\" \n\n\"Okay,\" I said, rubbing my shin, \"I don't know who you've been talking to, but the sea is definitely not blue. Neither is the sky, really.\" \n\n\"Oh really?\" she said. I could tell by her face she really didn't believe me. \"What color are they, then?\" \n\n\"Well the sea is the color of honey,\" I said. \"So it's ... that's a color, right? Honey? No, wait, amber! That's it. The sea is amber. And the sky, well...\" I looked up to the wispy clouds above us. \"Okay, it's sort of blue, in that it's also invisible. But it's a different sort of invisible than blue is. Like, it's the same color as a diamond. Because blue is flat, just completely and totally flat, very, very thin. But a diamond has dozens of edges, you know? Dozens of facets. And the sky's like that, if the edges weren't all so distinct and just sort of blurred into one another.\" \n\n\"Okay, okay,\" Josie said. \"What the fuck? I'm blind, and even I can tell that doesn't make any sense. How can you have an edge that isn't distinct? The whole point of an edge is that it stops right in a line!\" \n\n\"It's a metaphor!\" I said. \"You don't have to take it so literally!\" \n\nJosie pulled one leg up to her chin. \"Okay, I believe you think you're telling me the truth. But think about this seriously, Eric. Do you actually know what color even is?\" \n\n\"Okay, listen,\" I said. \"You know that whole thing about how we can't be sure we share each others' perceptions? Like, how do I know the blue that I'm seeing is the same thing as the blue that some other guy is seeing? Maybe we're seeing completely different things and calling it by the same name out of convenience.\" \n\n\"Yeah, but how do you explain everyone else I've ever asked about colors-\" \n\n\"Never mind about everyone else!\" I said. \"Look, you can ask a million people about color, and if those million people all tell you the same thing, you haven't learned anything new. Like, red is hot and blue is cool, whatever. Red isn't actually hot, you know! You can put your hand on it and not feel anything! They're not actually telling you anything real, that's just some cultural stereotype they all happen to share.\" \n\n\"I'm pretty sure red isn't a glass bead either,\" she said. \n\n\"Sure! But the point is, I'm trying to explain it to you in my own way, by my own perception. You want to know what a million people think red is like? You ask them. But you didn't ask them, you asked me, and I'm telling you. And it's a glass bead! To me it's a glass bead! And I don't care what anybody else says. Take it or leave it!\" \n\nJosie pressed her cane against the ground and tucked her hands underneath her chin and hummed thoughtfully. Then she leaned against me, letting her head fall against my shoulder. \"Tell me what green's like,\" she said. \n\n\"Green,\" I murmured. \"Hmm. Green, green.\" I brought my thumb up to my teeth and bit down, and studied the drop of blood that welled up, running my cilia against it. Sometimes I couldn't believe how lucky I'd been to have found a blind friend. \"Now green,\" I said at last. \"Now that's cold.\" "
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[WP] Gordon Ramsay giving instructions for everyday works | 1 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"Peeing: \"All right here we go! Toilet seat, up...Nice...Unzip the pants and geeeeently take your cock out....Fantastic....One hand on your dick and hold your pants with the other and start pissing...Look at that color! Stunning....Smells amazing....Now, sloooooowly pull the skin down and let the hand do the work! Shake it...a little more to make sure there is no more left...Next step! Take your dick and put him back in your pants....put that in there and zip up! Nice! Last but not least... Toilet flush! Gently press and leave for couples of seconds to make sure everything is done perfectly! Beautiful...\""
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1,
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"1476768025",
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[WP] You see a copypasta status on Facebook warning others that if they don't post the status to their own page, Facebook will begin stealing your underwear the next morning. You dismiss it as a joke until the next morning when your favorite pair of underwear has mysteriously vanished. | 11 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"I stared blankly into my underwear drawer, unsure if my beloved blue boxers were missing or if my tired eyes were missing something obvious. After a minute and an updraft, I realized I needed to be covered and picked out my subpar green boxers. The tag uncomfortably rubbed against my backside and material lacked the luxurious feeling of my blue boxers. As I completed my morning routine, I tried to retrace my steps in my head, but the more I forced my brain to remember misplacing my precious underwear, the more I recalled placing in the drawer. The mystery consumed me up until I had my coffee and I began my day.\n\nThe next morning I woke to find my dresser slightly askew. Eyeing the precious cargo, I judge a third of my underwear had gone missing in the night. I furrowed my brow and briefly thought back to that stupid Facebook status my aunt posted, but immediately dismissed the thought; however, it became immediately apparent to me that I was the victim of a boxer raid. I now related more to a typical college girl than I would care. Upset, I slammed the drawer shut before realizing the breeze between my knees and rectified the situation. \n\nSitting my alarm, I woke early to the sounds of rummaging through my room. Turing my bedside lamp on, the light immediately illuminated a man, probably in his early 30s wearing a blue collared shirt with the Facebook logo prominent on the chest casually going through my underwear drawer. I waved at him to get his attention, but he just waved back and continued his business.\n\n“Excuse me,” I requested. “What do you think you’re doing?”\n\n“Me?” he asked, pausing to face me before I nodded. “Oh, I’m just stealing your underwear. You should probably stock up, though. You’re beginning to run low.”\n\n“Uh…” I began slack-jawed in disbelief. It was too early for this. “Can I ask you to stop?”\n\n“I’m afraid not, sport,” he answered with an armful of boxers. “You see, by not reposting that status, you gave your implicit consent to Facebook stealing your underwear. Let me say, though, you have a very nice selection, sir. I love the Archer boxers.”\n\n“So wait,” I inquired. “By not reposting a stupid status I get my property stolen? If I repost it, do I get my underwear back?”\n\n“You make it sound so…criminal,” the representative explained. “Honestly it’s not that bad. Have you actually read through the Apple terms and conditions? Makes us look like saints. Anyway, if you repost the status, no, you won’t get your underwear back, but we’ll stop taking them. Any more questions?”\n\n“Yeah,” I replied as I eyed him advancing to my open bedroom window. “What does Facebook want with my boxers?”\n\n“Oh,” the employee said with a disturbing grin. “You *definitely* don’t want the answer to that. Anyway, have a good rest of the day!”\n\nWithout another word, he took one long step out my bedroom window which shocked me, because my bedroom is on the second story. I scrambled to the window and saw the overly cheerful Facebook employee running across my lawn with a handful of underwear and into an unmarked van which appeared full of various clothing, mostly undergarments. I watched as the van squealed its tires and drove into the early morning sun rise, completely dumbfounded. \n\n*****\n\nLike this? Want more? Check out [/r/Andrew__Wells](https://www.reddit.com/r/Andrew__Wells/)"
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[removed] | [wp] Expand on this awesome post about Tinker Fett | 1 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"Hi there, this post has been removed.\n\nThis is not yours to post in the first place. Having said that, a prompt is not for posting pre-written work. \n\n\n\n---\n\nPlease refer to the [sidebar](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/about/sidebar) before posting. If you have any questions or concerns, please feel free to send us a [modmail.](https://www.reddit.com/message/compose?to=%2Fr%2FWritingPrompts&subject=Removed%20post&message=https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/584mzz/wp_expand_on_this_awesome_post_about_tinker_fett/%0A%0A)"
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"1476807179",
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[WP] I couldn't believe it, I somehow got a date. I had to pinch myself because it seemed to good to be true. Now all I had to do was was make sure the voices don't ruin it for me like always. | 12 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"I had lived alone for 683 years. Alone, all that time just living off my parents' Amex in this once tidy penthouse. Come to think of it, it could be longer than 683 years, I am in my 30s now. Time passes so slowly when you are alone, every minute feels like 100. \nMost people you hear about who can hear random voices, the voices associated with crazies, mentalists, loonies, madmen, happen inside the heads of whoever it is getting carted off in an ambulance by porters trained in how to restrain a struggling biped. Not me, I live alone. Not on a ward in isolation, but alone in my home, away from other people. Living each day in some rooms connected by a hallway. I am free to move around in here. I am free to leave whenever it suits me. *I* am not classed as a loopy-doopy who does the bidding of Napoleon, Jesus or the CIA. \n\nBut it can be lonely, living all alone, really alone, day after day. So how have I ended up going on a date? I wanted to hide when the doorbell rang, and when the knock came after. I did not hide, I was in my own home and nobody could see me, but I did not answer the door either. As Ionescu will attest, there probably isn't anyone at the door. So when the doorbell rang again and the knocking was taken up anew with an immediacy unparalleled in my lifetime, at least at my front door, I decided to sneak up to the peep hole and take a tentative peep. \n\n\"Phoo\", I exclaimed gently. A member of the opposite sex. Right there on the other side of the door. \n\n\"I can see you in the peep-hole,\" said the ringer-knocker. \n\n\"That's because I'm here,\" I replied coolly. \n\n\"Your car is blocking my car, would you come down to the parking and move it please\". \n\n\"I'll do it tonight, later\". Adding to myself the thought *please leave*. \n\n\"I have to leave now, it can't wait until tonight,\" said the pedestrian-would-be-driver. \n\nI was in a quandary. Whatever should I do? I grabbed my dusty keys from the hook on the back of the door, swung the door open and bolted for the stairs, dashing around bewildered-person who was forced to take a step back. \n\nAt the parking in the basement I ran to my car and jumped in, locking the doors. I knew they were here, I knew they were coming. They crept along behind me when there were other people nearby. \n\nA tap on the window with a keyring, \"Aren't you 'voices', my neighbor from the other side of the hall?\" \n\n\"My name isn't voices,\" and I tried to look stern, but experience softened my expression to one of tired resignation. I had no choice but to deal with the situation, quickly and without embarrassment. I got out of the car and stood there, mouth shut, looking at parked-in-person. Parked-in-person was on the verge of mouth-twitching when I heard a familiar voice. A woman's voice in my head, in my ears, all around and seemingly coming from no one direction. \"Say something then you fucking twat. You going to just stand here like a burn victim waiting to be pissed on?\" \n\nMouth-agape-person's eyes widened. \"Voices...\" and trailed off. Then a moments reflection while we both said nothing and looked glum. \n\n\"That's why they call you 'voices'. Not because you hear voices, but everyone can hear them.\" \n\n\"Punch that idiot in the tit,\" said a man's voice out of nowhere. Then a third voice piped up, \"Tickle a parrot and what does it do?\" Ethereal laughter from possibly the north-east, assuming I am facing north. \n\nAnd amidst all the babbling and audible exclamations of \"Wheat! Potassium sulphate! Spiiiiiiin the wheel!\" and so on and so forth, we established, my neighbor and I, that I wasn't hearing voices, but that everyone could hear the voices I heard, the voices that followed me around but only showed themselves when I wasn't alone. That's when my neighbor asked me to come over for dinner. I was, for the first time in a long time, going on a date. I only hoped the voices could keep it PG, not lewd, for a couple of hours. ",
"“Whew, alright, let’s do it. C’mon James, you got this. Relax, just be you, and you’ll be fine.” James sat in his car, in a semi-wrinkled plaid button down and jeans, giving himself a pep talk in the parking lot of his local Chinese place. Rain drizzled down, coating the asphalt and his car with slick water. He was sweating from the top of his head, perspiration starting to drip down his face and into his dark eyes. He wiped his forehead with the back of his sleeve and looked down at his watch. He still wasn’t quite used to reading analogue watch faces, so it took him a second to see that it was 5:43. 17 minutes before he was supposed to meet Serena for their date. The first date he’d had since Allison Silcox had kissed him in kindergarten on the playground.\n\n*Yeah, those were the days.* \n\n“Ah, fuck.” James sighed and dropped his head, screwing his eyes closed and cupping his face in his hands. “I was hoping you wouldn’t show up tonight.”\n\n*Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss this for the world,* Azazel replied, his voice like a swallow of scotch. Smooth, earthy, and with a burning aftertaste. James hated scotch.\n\n“You’re not going to mess this up for me. I’m not going to let you mess this up for me. This is my first date-”\n\n*I know, since Allison Silcox, you just went over that. I’m inside your head Jimmy-boy, you don’t have to repeat things aloud to me.* James could feel the bastard smiling as he said that. He could hear it in his smug, sarcastic voice. He dropped his hands to his sides and clenched his fists.\n\n“You know I don’t like being called Jimmy,” James said through gritted teeth. \n\n**You should not antagonize him like that, Azazel.** The second voice made James feel like his head had been dunked in the waters of the Arctic in the middle of winter. It gave him goosebumps all over his neck, and he shuddered involuntarily.\n\n“Shit, you too? That’s wonderful.” Jimmy shook his head in disbelief and slumped down in the driver’s seat of his Corolla. “This is exactly what I need tonight.”\n\n*Oh relax, Gabriel. It’s just some harmless teasing. I’m not hurting Jimmy-boy here, am I?*\n\n**No, you are not.**\n\n*So what’s the big deal then? Jimmy and I are just reminiscing on old times. Simpler times, before he became inept in the ways of the fairer sex.*\n\n**He has requested that you not call him “Jimmy” any longer. You should honor his request.** \n\n*Oh is it really that big of a deal? What does it matter what I call him?*\n\n**One should always treat those around oneself with respect. You are no exception to this rule.**\n\nAzazel sighed dramatically.\n\n“For Christ’s sake-”\n\n**Do not take the name of our Lord Jesus Christ in vain, James.**\n\n“Oh for the love of… Could you two please go somewhere else and argue? I have…” James looked down at his watch and saw that twelve minutes had passed. He had just five minutes until he was supposed to meet Serena. He looked in his rearview mirror and saw the two of them sitting there. Azazel was a midnight black suit with a red tie, his dark hair slicked back, his orange eyes glinting in the darkness. Gabriel was in all white, contrasting with his dark skin. His head was shaved, and he had a goatee. He smiled at James as he turned around, his teeth sparkling white.\n\n“I have five minutes before this date, so I’m gonna have to request that both of you get the hell out of here. I don’t want you two fucking-”\n\n**Please do not curse James. It is unbecoming.**\n\nAzazel snorted and rolled his eyes, crossing his arms and smirking at James from the backseat. \n\n“...please leave. Both of you. I really like this girl and I don’t want you to mess this up for me. I might not ever get a chance like this again.”\n\n**You could always join the clergy, James. There is always a chance with God.**\n\n*Wow, great pep-talk G, good job.* Azazel patted Gabriel on the shoulder then turned to James. He leaned forward and spoke softly. *Listen, I know you’re nervous, but you just have to be confident. Girls love confidence. Just don’t think about anything too much, and you’ll be fine.* \n\n“Thanks, Azazel.” James smiled slightly, the corner of his mouth turning upwards.\n\n*Knock ‘er dead, Jimmy boy! And use protection!* The demon laughed, then vanished in a puff of black smoke, the echo of his laughter lingering until the smoke dissipated.\n\n**Premarital sex is a sin, James. Do not sin tonight,** Gabriel said gravely, then vanished completely, without a trace. James looked down at his watch and saw that he only had one minute before he said he would meet Serena. He took a few deep breaths, smoothed his shirt and combed through his hair with his fingers, then stepped out of the car and into the drizzle. \n\n“Don’t mess this up, James,” he muttered to himself, then closed the car door and walked towards the restaurant. He reached the door, steeled himself, then swung it open and stepped in. He saw her immediately. She was sitting in the back, and she looked up and saw him at the door. She waved him over, and he walked over to the table and sat down, apologizing for his lateness even though he knew he arrived right on time. She laughed and said it was fine, and that she had been here for a while. \n\n*You got this Jimmy-boy,* Azazel said to him as James sat down. James nodded slightly, and sat down, hoping that the demon was right.",
"Be blessed, this day, the Miracle of days \nHas given the loneliest soul some hope \nIn the most pitiful, benign of ways; \nSomeone agreed to date this poor dope. \n\nI beg you, desperately, to grant my wish, \nTo stop the inner voices, delay my fear \nAnd let us just enjoy our well-seared fish; \nBut sudden, a howl yells out, \"Get out of here!\"\n\nI gaze around in panic, paranoid, \nBut none have seemed to hear this voice. \nMy date just wrinkles her lip, seems annoyed, \nAbout my outburst, she must have heard the noise.\n\nPerplexed, she quizzically asks, \"So soon?\" \nMistaking madness, we moved to my room. ",
"*This date looks nice.* \n\n*Eh, she's alright.* \n\nWill you two shut up for once! \n\n*Whoa! Someone's feisty.* \n\n*Maybe it's because the date is too ugly.* \n\n*Hehehe. Now he's really gonna get mad.* \n\nI swear to god, if I could, I would kill you both. \n\n*Then you'd be, like, all dead and stuff.*\n\n*More like brain-dead. That's a fate worse than death. Almost worst than staring at that face across the table right now.* \n\n*Ouch! That must have really hurt.* \n\nFor the love of god, I swear-- \n\n*Yeah, yeah, whatever. So make a move already, you're boring the entire restaurant right now.* \n\n*If you do put the whole place to sleep, see if you can nab a few wallets. The rent is due, you know.* \n\n*All that money wasted on online gambling.* \n\n*You mean the scam of online gambling, wasn't even a real site.* \n\n*Didn't stop him from putting down that credit card number, though.* \n\n*So sad. So naive.* \n\n\"Shut *up!* And it wasn't even a gambling site, it was a phony porn site, and *you* were the ones that said it looked legit.\" \n\n\"Ummm,\" the date began. \n\nOh shit. \n\n*Imaginary high-five?* \n\n*Imaginary high-five.* \n\nI wonder if someone won't call the cops, and I can get free admission into a mental house."
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[WP] "I feel pity for the saviour of the universe" | 15 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n",
"\"I feel pity for the savior of the universe, you know. That guy.\"\n\n\"And what makes you say he even saved the universe? Or even why you pity him?\"\n\n\"That's the reason right there. Nobody knows he saved it because nothing went wrong from their point of view.\"\n\n\"Doesn't change the fact he may have saved the universe and the fact he hasn't really voiced 'hey, I saved all of you' to everybody\"\n\n\"Yeah, but have you seen famous people before? Once you go famous people will try to get into your life and ride that fame train\"\n\n\"Eh I can drink to that -'Another beer!\"\n\n\"Isn't that your fourth cup already? I only half drank mine.\"\n\n\"Mmm hmm mmm -- When you said you'd be paying. Ahh, theres the good stuff. You should've drank more on your end then when you told me that.\"\n\n\"Yeah, whatever. But yeah, do you remeber what his name was?\"\n\n\"Nah, not a bit. Say what'd he even save the universe from?\"\n\n\"Something to do with floating brains or somthing.\"\n\n\"Ah okay, well I've done finished my cup. Gonna see this 'savior' then.\""
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1,
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"1476816672",
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] | |
[WP] You run the coat check in the afterlife, where people can leave their worldly baggage before passing on. | 21 | [
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"You meet a lot of different kinds of people at the twilight between life and death. I didn't deal with the whole who-crosses-over-when business, messy stuff that. Kicking and screaming like children, couldn't pay me enough to go through that.\n\nNo, I stood firmly on the latter side of the rift. Once John or Jane Doe have no chance of going back, they come to me and hang up their earthly coats, as it were.\n\nIt's not that what happens before doesn't matter, but, after I'm done with them, it's that everything becomes much clearer without those messy bodies. A clock could keep the time to an incredible accuracy, however humans had evolved out of a puddle. No one had stopped to fix them up and make them able to process emotions properly. Though no expert on the internals, it had always been obvious to me that no two people felt the same. Shoddy job, the lot of them.\n\nSpirits were a whole other matter. Strip them of the goo and bone, and they understood everything. In the end, that meant a lot of regret, as though they'd spent their whole life drunk off their arse and now had to deal with the fallout.\n\nOf course, they couldn't fix it. Rules and regulations and all that. Something had to happen though, otherwise the place would be cluttered with moaners, going on and on about this time and that time and who even cares.\n\nGuess whose job that was, huh? That's right, mine. I got to sit there, day after day, listening to those balls of emotions until they felt at ease. Really, the only hard part was staying awake, though that wasn't always necessary. Honestly, they didn't stop for anything.\n\nSo, all that in mind, I got a right surprise when some spectre comes to me, and doesn't speak.\n\nI gave it a minute, then a bit longer, and then I lost the last of my patience. “Come on then, spit it out.”\n\nIt didn't react in any meaningful way, though it kinda dipped in the air. Not that we had air there, being ethereal and all. But, you know what I mean.\n\n“No regrets? Epiphanies? Nothing?”\n\n“I must go back,” it said, low and rumbly. Not necessarily indicative of a man, but of a wrath.\n\nSome types like that came through, still holding onto some semblance of humanity. Not sure how it happened, something like a pip in the freshly squeezed orange juice even after you sieved it. “Afraid that's not an option. One-way system here. You talk about your feelings, then you move on. No detours.”\n\n“I did not ask for your permission.”\n\nHad to shrug at that, not my problem. “Good luck with that.”\n\nA second of silence dragged on to a good half an hour or so, my old watch being rather unhelpful when physical laws no longer governed reality.\n\n“Well, what's your name then?”\n\nAs though thunder rolled, he said, “Mars.”\n\nI tried to shake off the shiver, but the goosebumps wouldn't go. Then, the familiar name intriguing me, I asked, “Like the planet?”\n\n“It should be said: the planet named like me.”\n\nWell, it took a moment to sink in. Then, I barely managed to speak to ask, “You're the Roman god of war?”\n\n“Yes.”\n\nMany, many people had come through to meet me. All kinds, from all walks of life. No gods, though. Never a god. I didn't even know that they could. “How do you even kill a god?”\n\nHadn't realised I had asked that aloud, until he answered. “Treachery and cowardice, which must be repaid.”\n\nI swallowed the desire to flee at his words, and fell back on familiar patterns. “Look, I said: no going back. Once you're here, the door's shut.”\n\n“Then I shall open it.”\n\n“No, no, it's not a physical door, or anything. It's, the separation of soul and mind. If you're here, your mind is dead. You can't go back, because there's nothing to go back to.”\n\nSomehow, his presence grew, and became as though towering over me. “That is not an obstacle for me.”\n\n“And why is that?”\n\n“My power still surges through me, the creation of a body nothing more than a thought.”\n\nI licked my lips from nerves, not knowing what to do. Really, the only thing I could do was try and convince him to pass on. No idea how to do anything else. Besides, even if he went back, it's not like he wouldn't just end up here again. Everyone did, in the end. They might stick around a while like a bad smell, but they'd go eventually.\n\n“If your assistance could help me achieve my goal, I would even create one for you.”\n\nLike that, none of my earlier thoughts mattered, and I nearly fell over. “What? That's crazy. Why would I even want to go back?”\n\nAt that moment, I realised that gods didn't have the same problems of perception humans did.\n\n“You are still here, are you not? Is that not indicative of a deep regret you wish to correct?”\n\nI wanted to deny it, but only in a reminiscent way, like when I had been alive. Without that stupid brain messing things up, I answered, “Yes, dearly.”\n\n“Then, can you aid me? If so, you may have your chance.”\n\nSurely, if I had been in a body at that moment, it would have become a difficult decision, touching upon philosophy and morality and ethics—if a distinction between them even needed to be made. Freed from the bonds of life though, I needed no time to come to what I needed to do.\n\n“Yes, I will.”"
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1,
6
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"1476823972",
"1476832467"
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[WP] You get a mail-order bride... from actual hell. | 2 | [
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"Ever since ordering her I had been fidgeting. What if the cops intercepted the package? It then crossed my mind that I didn't even know if this is actually illegal. Still, it won't be easy to introduce her to dad.\n\nI had ordered her off some sketchy darknet site, she looked amazing and for only $300, she was a steal. The guy you talked to claimed she was from Russia, I didn't really care where she came from though, I was just tired of sleeping alone.\n\nThe next morning I slept in until noon then left for Coffee. Immediately after stepping out of my apartment building I notice a huge cardboard box. Just the right size for a human. I knew exactly what this was but what I didn't know, was how I was going to get it up the stairs and into my apartment.\n\nI could barely lift it a few inches off the ground, there was no way I was carrying this thing up two flights of stairs. My only other option was to get a razor and cut it open out there, it seemed a little embarrassing but I couldn't just leave her outside. I ran inside and looked for a razor, realized I didn't have one and settled for a kitchen knife. I briefly thought \"I'm gonna look like a madman, running through the halls with this huge knife.\" \n\nSo I tucked it into my pants and tried to seem calm as I walked outside. As I prepared to cut I noticed there was no label on the box like when you get a package from Amazon, but hey it's a mail order bride what do I expect? I cut the tape seal on the box and open it. Of course it reveals a crate. On the wooden panel it reads \"knock twice\" I'm getting a little nervous, this can't be real...can it? I hesitantly give two quick raps on the box and stand back a full 20 seconds pass before before the box opens.\n\nMy heart jumps, she stands up, she's the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. Piercing blue eyes, with an hourglass figure, for a second I actually she had popped out of a box, remembering this I grabbed her groom style and carried her inside. She was surprisingly light, which didn't add up at all, this should have been a warning sign, I was such a fool.\n\nAfter I got up the stairs and into my apartment I asked her a bunch of questions, she simply stood there and stared at me, after a while I gave up talking to her, I went back outside and threw the box in the dumpster. When I got back inside she was still just standing there, staring. When it was time to go to bed she cuddled up next to me, it felt amazing, but I felt a little uncomfortable with her staring at me.\n\nOn the drive to work the next morning I noticed a small scratch on my neck. My mind jumped to her, but why would she do that? Work was of course mundane, so when my phone rang, I was happy to answer it, was her, and her voice was like heaven she told me how much she loved me, and pleaded for me to come home \"right now!\" I had barely heard her speak and it sounded urgent so I drove home. When I got there she lunged at me with a knife, the knife got embedded into the wall, but it nearly tore my ear off. She then started vigorously choking me, I managed to pull out my phone and call 911, at that moment she broke down in tears.\n\nWhen the police arrived she told them how I planned her kidnapping and how I raped her and then suddenly snapped and tried to kill her with a knife, I tried to tell my side of it but I got carried away. The police questioned me for hours. After that I went home and she was gone, I was relieved but still very scared, the anxiety wore on me, day after day. Everyday after work I expected her to be there staring at me with her cold dead eyes, but she never was.\n\nThe last time she contacted was a letter, two years later, the return address read \"the deep unknown.\" As soon as I opened it I smelled something awful, like cigarettes dipped in rotten milk. At the top were very detailed drawings of her eyes, they looked slightly angry, at the bottom it read \"contact me soon, I had a lovely time\" on the back was a very detailed description of how to contact her which included things like collecting two pints of blood and meditating for hours. I never did contact her, but I thought about it, and the letter is still sitting on my book case. I can still feel those eyes though, and I have a feeling they can feel me.\n\n"
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1,
2
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"1476837584",
"1476843656"
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[removed] | [WP] | 0 | [
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"Hi there, this post has been removed.\n\nPrompts go in the title. (Exceptions: [IP] and [MP]). Feel free to repost with the prompt in the title. You can add more detail in the text, but remember prompts should be a starting point and not a recipe. \n\n\n\n---\n\nPlease refer to the [sidebar](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/about/sidebar) before posting. If you have any questions or concerns, please feel free to send us a [modmail.](https://www.reddit.com/message/compose?to=%2Fr%2FWritingPrompts&subject=Removed%20post&message=https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/588gwf/wp/%0A%0A)"
] | [
1,
1
] | [
"1476851000",
"1476851346"
] |
[WP] Aliens invade Earth. The only problem is, Humanity is so god damn unpredictable that they can't win. | 265 | [
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"The alliance was broken, the aliens had squashed it like a roach. Now all we had were each other everyone had banded together all around the world for everything that humans have stood, survival or death. No-one was organized it was gorilla warfare at its finest. \nYou see the aliens were cold and calculating just like the alliance taking every step with as much caution as possible but fighting fire with fire is fucking bullshit. We fought any way that we could: sticks, guns, grenades, homemade monstrosities, it didn't matter. We fought until death and then some, and it worked the aliens couldn't calculate what we were going to do, especially with all the speed and alcohol we used to kick ass.\nThey actually didn't leave though, there still here we call them slaves now.\n",
"The war did not begin as a war. The third exploration unit was used to neutralizing any sentient life and then taking the largely uncontaminated resources of the planet for their own. Intelligence usually meant a species could safely lose it's resistance to environmental shifts upon inventing ventialtion. But you were different. when we saw the temperature of where your species originated, we simply lowered the temperature of the planet by a degree. It astounded us that a species at your level could survive that. We laced your waters with trace amounts of arsenic, certain it would kill you off. How could we know you would adapt to that as well? when we heated your planet, the ice caps melted, but you proceeded to build boats. At this point, what you know as the first combat began. No species has ever managed to successfully fend off a land war so well. The North American invasion was doomed to become war of attrition. Every last human soldier fought to live. When we learned that you valued life so desperately, we put our stations in China, and surrounded them by a toxic gas only one in a thousand could survive imagine our surprise when hundreds of soldiers poured through, the last of a unit millions strong. When we sent forces to the Middle East, your soldiers stole our weaponry, and showed us how we were usin it wrong. When we brought our warships, the last resort in, you used nuclear energy as a *weapon.* Not even the most sadistic of civilizations we had encountered had thought of that. So accept this peace deal, and know you are the first to be offered it. ",
"Part 1 of 2 because too long.\n\nCommander Xandar, you understand the goal of this meeting is to better understand the abysmal failure that has been the Earth invasion. More precisely this committee will determine if you are guilty of gross negligence resulting in the destruction of our prestigious flagship and over 75% of our invasion fleet. Do you understand what I am telling you ?\n\n*Yes Admiral, I understand.*\n\nGood, now with the formalities aside, WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED OUT THERE XANDAR?\n\n*You...I...I mean... You have to understand sir, they're maniacs, freaking maniacs! all of them!*\n\nGod dammit Xandar, intel reported a bunch of backwater hillbillies with clubs and sticks. Club and sticks Xandar!\n\n*Actually sir, that's one of the things I wanted to talk to you about. I think our intel might have been just a wee bit outdated. I know 5000 local star cycles are not usually relative in terms of technological advancements but their technological level was probably closer to 5 or 6 on the techno-advancement scale. Nowhere near the 0.25 results of our previous survey.*\n\n5 or 6 ? For god's sake Xandar, your fleet was large enough to reduce a class 9 civilization to rubble. What difference does it make if they were a 0 or a 6 ? A god damn 7 should have been a walk in the freaking park.\n\n*If...If I may try to explain sir, I would recategorize them as a crazy-6*\n\nCrazy-6 ? What the hell is that?\n\n*Well, you see. While they posess the technological advancement of a class 6 society, their cultural and emotional response are more in line with a 0 or a 1.*\n\nIn layman's terms Xandar.\n\n*They're nuts sir, completely and utterly nuts. They appear to have reach a special sweetspot in their advancement where they begin to understand advanced physics and interstellar technologies but they use it to blow themselves up or they combine them together on a drunken dare.*\n\nAlright alright... just.. start at the beginning.\n\n*Well, it started well enough. We approached the planet and while their technological level was nowhere near our expectations, it was surmised that no real change of strategy was needed other than to cripple their communication. We launched a pre-emptive strike against most of their satellites, communication centers and command posts.*\n\nAccording to this your initial report, successful destruction rate was fairly low. Care to explain ?\n\n*Ah well, you see. Apparently they really like to build giant monuments laced with metal so the detectors falsely identified them as military ressources. We may have wasted time and ammunitions on those. But on the plus side, destroying important monuments is good psychological warfare...eheh..right?*\n\nContinue\n\n*The first few hours were going according to plan. What little response they mustered was obliterated in mere moments, mainly due to lack of communications and coordination. We expected a quick surrender following this debacle, as is standard of a class 6 or 7 civilization.*\n\nI see in your report that they never offered their surrender ?\n\n*Ah...no.... they decided insted to shot back at us... in surprisingly high number I must say.*\n\nSo this was coordinated ? I thought you said they lacked communications at this point?\n\n*Well, they did. At first it was 1 or 2 nucleao-atom type ordonances, nothing our defense grid couldn't handle but they just kept coming, and coming. And I guess, seeing the ordonances launching, those who had them also decided to launch whatever they had and let me tell you, they had a lot! I've never seen so many nucleo-atom type ordonances on a class 6 planet. It's like they were stockpiling them just for the fun of it. They completly overwhelmed our defense grid and a few ships were damaged beyond repairs.*\n\nAn unfortunate setback, but in no mean an excuse for what followed. Continue.\n\n*Well, as per standard procedure, we crashed the damaged ships on the planet, hoping the resulting power-core explosions would neutralize the remaining defenses and pressure them into surrendering. Unfortunatly one of the ships landed mostly intact and they huh... they managed to steal it*\n\nSteal it? Now how in hell do you suppose they managed to do that?\n\n*Well, my best guess would be that they played around with the controls and by sheer luck managed to activate the cloaking generator.*\n\nSo they got their hands on some of our technologies, big deal. It's not like they can reverse engineer it overnight. It would take any class 6 civilization over 200 solar cycle to understand this technology and perfect it's use. I must say Commander Xandar, so far I'm mostly seeing failure on your part and nothing justified by those *freaking maniacs* as you've called them\n\n*Actually sir, getting their hands on our technology was the turning point. You have to understand, they didn't reverse engineer it, they didn't try to understand it, they just used it. They managed to recover one of the main gun, plug it into one of their primitive power facility and fire a few shots at us before it exploded. They took out 2 ships that way. We thought the weapon's destruction would slow their use of our technology but it didn't. They celebrated and went nuts.*\n\nImpressive, getting a X5F orbital cannon to work is no small feet.\n",
"The alien fleet was seen well before it got within 100 AU's of Earth, but even with the time to prepare, we knew we would suffer heavy losses during first contact. Every attempt to communicate, talk, negotiate, even plead was met with contempt by the aliens. They had come to enslave, pillage, and use Earth's materials to build up their fleet. Once their fleet came past Jupiter, using the gas giants atmosphere to brake, we got the first glimpse of our demise. \n\nFrom what could only be mass drivers, the leading ships sent cylinders of tungsten and similar metals to take out our orbital facilities, and destroy population centers on Earth. We had manufactories in space, but only for small scale operations and scientific expeditions. \n\nIt is here humanity made a choice to fight.\n\n\"Goddamn it, we cannot survive up here for more than a few hours!\" Tyler raged at Earth Defense Central Command, a hastily created organization pulling the best and brightest from every single nation on Earth with a space program, designed to handle first contact with the enemy, and command all battles in space and at the edge of the atmosphere. \n\n\"Survival Capsule #9583, we are doing our best to arrange emergency rescue operations. There are hundreds of people in tens of pods and hastily sealed sections of former stations that we need to deal with. Not to mention, the Bogies are about to pass Lunar orbit.\"\n\nSeemingly, in the hot and cramped segment of what had once been the US NASA Exploration Control Center, everything went cold. Nobody had thought it even possible for a ship to decelerate as quickly as the Bogies ships did, and still aim for high Earth orbit in the first pass.\n\n\"If you cannot get to us, we're going to die!\" \n\nThe operator on the other end became quiet, and then apologized. \"I'm.. I'm sorry, we just cannot get to everyone. May God protect us all.\"\n\nAnd with that prayer from CentCom, the comm unit stopped broadcasting. \n\n\"What's happening, Tyler?\" A young scientist, brilliant by all accords, worriedly floated over after hearing Tyler yelling. \n\n\"They've abandoned us. We may not be rescued.\" \n\nAnother voice pipped up from the far end, \n\n\"But... They have to!\"\n\nAnother voice muttered,\n\n\"not if they don't have any more ships not on defense duty.\"\n\n\"But we're American citizens!\"\n\nTyler turned to face the speaker, an older woman who was the main HR rep on the station. He spoke somberly, though 'matter of fact'.\n\n\"Right now, it doesn't matter who we are or where we're from. If they cannot send anybody, we will die like the rest.\"\n\n**17 hours later**\n\nNow the station segment was freezing. The heat shields had been shredded, part of the reason they hadn't died in the initial destruction of the station, but that didn't much matter now. For hours Tyler had been pleading and fiddling with the radio. He was no comms tech, but he had experience with just about every electrical device under the sun had come in handy. But to no avail. At first, he'd received apologies and prayers from other stranded survivors, or rescue ships. Then, all ships had been tasked for military duties, mine laying and such and he was repeatedly told to 'clear the air'. Finally, the screaming started.\n\nAfter 20 minutes of that, sitting silently, everyone listening to other people, humans, die in the vacuum of space, Tyler put his hand through the comms unit. \n\n\"It's of no use now\", he said. \"They've come.\"\n\nThe survivors huddled together, fearing this was the last few hours they'd ever have. Stuck in a cold, dark, and soon-to-be lifeless segment of a former space station, they resigned themselves to their fates, looking around at the other 50 people standing, sitting, or crouching. Two of them had already died, and were tied to a hand hold so they couldn't float around too much.\n\n**later, undetermined**\n\nThe station segment lurched, flinging humans about. Tyler, groggy and falling in and out of sleep as he was inching closer and closer to death, jolted awake. By now, at least half of the survivors were dead. The station segment then jolted as if under power, and all bodies, living and dead, were flung towards the back as the segment was accelerated. \n\nWere they going to be rescued? Tyler wondered before passing out again.\n\nHe was jolted awake once more, as the segment appeared to be dropped into an area with gravity, and the living and dead, men and women he'd worked with for years, threatened to crush the life out of him. \n\nOne end was torn away, exposing a view of ship after ship in a gigantic hangar. Nothing like he'd ever seen. And then, suited figures that were surely not human started dragging out the living and the dead. The living were dismembered partially, in what seemed to be a random choice by the aliens. And the screams could be heard echoing across the giant bay, muted by the vastness of the hangar. \n\nAn alien pulled two dead humans off of him, and even though Tyler could barely move, he saw the young scientist, start to wake up and struggle. The alien barely paused as it tore a leg from the scientist, who started to scream, a haunting almost inhuman sound. But it was human, after all. \n\nTyler looked around, and it was then his hearing started to filter more and more from the carnage of sound beyond. A disjointed voice, speaking in English, was demanding the surrender of all humans. \n\n\"Your homes are destroyed, you are now our [unintelligible]\" the voice repeated. \"You live and die at our command. We are your masters.\"\n\nTyler groped around, looking for something, anything he might find that he could fight with. Suddenly a third alien figure grabbed him, and started dragging him from underneath the pile of the dead. He went limp, hoping to God that the alien didn't feel the need to tear off a limb or three. \n\nHe was dragged out, and tossed near a group of huddled humans, bodily thudding on the ground. He could barely move, and lay there, witnessing the carnage, the bloodshed, and the utter indifference the aliens had towards their captives. \n\nAs he rolled onto his side, hoping to shield himself from viewing this, he saw a long steel piece of metal lying nearby. Not quite close enough to grab, but not far enough away to be completely out of reach. He could move his arms, and somewhat move his legs, as the feeling in both came back to him. He started crawling for the debris.\n\nSuddenly, white hot searing pain flooded through him, and he heard crunching sounds. He turned his head just enough to see one of the large aliens standing on his leg, crushing it, aided by the weight of it's suit. \n\nIt leaned down (or did something that looked like leaning) and garbled noise came from it for a solid minute, until it said \"Fighting is useless, you obey or die. As we all have.\" Tyler barely heard the alien, as he was still struggling to remain conscious as the alien drove his foot harder into the broken leg. He definitely didn't have time to figure out what the alien meant. \n\nHours later, he regained consciousness, still in the same position. Nobody had helped him, or even apparently moved from the huddled mass of people. But the piece of metal was still there, still almost within his reach. With every inch he moved closer towards it, only seeing that. It was his salvation, his only hope. \n\nNo alien saw him move this time, and he reached it after an agonizing half an hour, his broken leg threatening to bring him back to unconsciousness every step of the way.\n\nHe took it, and first used it to lever himself up. Amazingly, the aliens were focused on another segment of a space station, and the poor people inside. He looked back at his fellow humans, who stared back with wide eyes, their fear so obvious he imagined he could smell it. Or at least the stink of gore and unwashed bodies. \n\nHe took one step, than another, his determination outweighing the pain he felt. He slowly came up behind one alien, and raised his weapon, balancing on one foot. He drove the piece of metal through what looked almost like a wing between the alien's body and a limb, and was rewarded with a noise like grating metal and the alien apparently called for help, or screamed. Another alien, close by was the first to react. It was in a suit, and it towered over both Tyler and his victim. \n\nWith two giant strides, the alien punched him in the stomach, sending him flying away from his victim and weapon, tumbling end over end. Pain seared, but Tyler managed to hang on, but unable to move. His head bent towards the group of aliens, he was able to see one last thing before his internal injuries overwhelmed him. \n\nAnd what he saw, he couldn't believe. He had triggered whatever fight or flight instinct remained in the scores of living humans, and they had decided to follow him, instead of attempt to flee. Perhaps it was simply because they had nowhere else to go, or his actions had brought something up to the surface, Tyler would never know. But in that instant, before his eyelids slammed down like steel shutters, he saw unarmed humans *swarm* the alien he had skewered, as well as the alien that had knocked him against the hangar. And instead of fearful screams of pain and terror, now a new crescendo rose, something comprised of fear, anger, hate, and pain, all rolled into a battle cry as alien after alien, some similar to the ones Tyler had seen, and others radically different, went down under the sheer force of his fellow humans. \n\nHumanity wasn't giving up that easily. ",
"The generals of the Citharae carried the long tradition of treating battle as a both a logic problem and competition of strategy. Much like securing a checkmate in chess, Citharae military leaders only took careful, calculated steps to overcome their enemies who often surrendered whenever they realized they found themselves box in a corner. Logical agents, naturally, wanted to minimize casualties and a result, much intergalactic battle transformed into a formalized game of wits and strategy to subdue the other first and war generally concluded quickly. The famed Invasion of Earth, however, presented considerable difficulties for them. \n\nThe humans proceeded in a rather logical and predictable fashion near the beginning; however when they realized the superiority of Citharae technology and numbers, they lashed out in a fury instead of peacefully submit to minimize casualties. Using primitive atomic weaponry, they aimed their bombs and missiles to the sky, aiming simply to hit the Citharae ships anywhere they could instead of predetermined weak points. Under ordinary conditions, this would present no problems; however, the humans carried far more nuclear weapons than any closed planet should, a result derived from two factions stockpiling far more nuclear arms than they could ever need. \n\nTo further exacerbate the invasion, non-soldiers found themselves fighting the Citharae infantry with largely homemade weaponry. Using the compound which they call alcohol as both a fuel for their unpredictability and their bombs, they assaulted soldiers in guerrilla-style warfare lacking any formalized formation or strategy. They sang songs of fighting and dying proud while abandoning any protocol as they threw grenades, both homemade and factory manufactured, from their own homes while firing basic artillery from their windows, continuing the assault no matter how the Citharae surrounded them and placed them firmly in checkmate. \n\nThe humans have a saying which includes a pigeon which knocks over the chess pieces in a game and struts as if won the game against the chess master. Since the humans continually knocked over the Citharae pieces, causing rather large inconveniences that leadership could not account, the local squadron could never cement a solid strategy to place the planet into checkmate. When General Xuth-Al inquired about reinforcements, the planetary leadership decided earth to be too costly to acquire and ordered the squadron to retreat. Earth now struts as a pigeon which won its game of chess. \n\n*****\n\nLike this? Want more? Check out [/r/Andrew__Wells](https://www.reddit.com/r/Andrew__Wells/)",
"R'drrk sat in the dust. His pilot's suit was torn and bloodied. He suspected at least four broken bones and possibly some internal bleeding. He spat out a partially coagulated orb of bluish-green blood that immediately soaked into the hardpan on his left. \n\nR'drrk's communicator trilled at him. Of course, he thought, the one godsforsaken piece of gear that didn't get smashed to shit in that crash. He slapped the switch to open the circuit. \n\n\"Pilot 7X-359, what is your status?\" Looked like Command just couldn't wait to chew his ass on this one. They knew damned good and well what his status was - they just wanted to run his nose in it. \n\n\"I crashed. Currently sitting on the ground re-examining my decision to enlist. How's things up there in your comfortable chair, D'elik?\" Comma protocol strictly forbade using actual names. R'drrk was just about ready to tell them to go to Hell anyway. \n\n\"'359, observe protocol! Are you injured?\"\n\n\"Yeah, I got scuffed up a little on the landing.\" He looked back at the column of thick black smoke roiling out of his impact crater. Calling it a landing was generous. \"You gonna send somebody to pick me up?\"\n\n\"Negative '359. All units engaged. Your area especially hostile.\" Control was being a dick about him losing the ship. \n\n\"Well, I'm not just going to sit out here in the open where any of these crazy bastards can find me.\"\n\n\"Negative '359. Maintain position for eventual extraction.\"\n\n\"'Eventual extraction'? Are you insane? There's no way you're getting down here. I'm the best pilot in the fleet and they tore my ass up like I was a rookie. Do you know they have just, like, so many guns? Primitive slugthrowers, sure. But there's just so damned many! It was like rain on the bottom of my ship. By the time I landed I could damn near have just put my feet through the floor and walked it in.\"\n\n\"... Understood '359. \"\n\n\"So now you listen. I'm gonna try to hide my ass before one of these indigs finds me. What can you tell me about this region?\" R'drrk started walking towards what could have mountains or rocks if he had any sense of distance in this awful place. \n\n\"... Not much. Dry. Desert conditions. A few sparse settlements. You shouldn't have too much trouble staying away from locals but food and water could be hard to find.\"\n\n\"Great. Do you know when I was crashing I was pretty sure I saw some kind of land vehicle chasing me? Like that's a normal thing to do. 'Hey look, a giant radioactive ball of fire is plummeting out of the sky - let's race it!' How the hell did evolution not breed the crazy out?\"\n\n\"Unknown '359. Scanners do show possible local activity in your sector though.\"\n\n\"Of course it does. Didn't the pre-mission briefings say something about weak governance?\"\n\n\"Yes, particularly in your sector. Each individual is allowed wide autonomy. There is a local government and a larger central government, neither of which typically interfere in the ordinary course of events on a personal level. There is no planetary government.\"\n\n\"Holy shit. So you're telling me any one of these savages could show up, capture me, and do whatever they want to me? And no one would stop them?\"\n\n\"For the most part yes. They may face a fine.\"\n\n\"That's just great. Look, I'm gonna hang up now. Wait - what did you say the name of this piece was?\"\n\n\"The local planetary designation is 'Earth'.\"\n\n\"No, not the planet. Just this region I'm in.\"\n\n\"According to our records, the locals call it 'Texas'.\"\n\n\"Fucking Texas.\" R'drrk slammed the circuit closed. ",
"Despite overwhelming technological superiority, the aliens had never considered the truly unpredictable factor of humanity.\n\nBooze, and lots of it.\n\nIt made utterly no sense to discharge an array of nuclear weapons in the upper atmosphere and then launch jet fighters armed with long range missiles flying straight up to the limit of their capacity, but it happened anyway.\n\nThe reason?\n\nBooze.\n\nA scrambled think tank session quickly turned into a booze fest as the strategists hit the liquor harder then ten Russians at a soccer match, and that was what arose.\n\n\"Fuck em, fuck the commies, and the fucken pinko Greens. Let's....launch those fucking Nike Missile...the rainbow bombs. We'll scramble all their sensors with all the fucking charged particles and bullshits and they'll never see us coming...and we'll...fuck it...get those fucking Raptors...they can fly straight up the edge of the atmosphere....and launch everything they've got at the command and control ship...\" Slurred The Four Star General, who at this point was completely, utterly, ridiculously, sloshed.\n\n\"But wait,\" interjected the sensible scientist who wasn't drunk \"won't the charged particles interfere with the missiles directional devices?\"\n\n\"Fuck it.\" burped the General, \"We'll put fucking lasers on those missiles. Laser guided missiles...that'll work.\"\n\nThe plan was completely batshit fucking insane, to launch nukes into space to create a screen for jet fighters to fly to the edge of space and launch their missiles straight up....but the plan worked.\n\nThe command and control ship of the alien invasion suffered catastrophic damage, particularly to it's sensor and communication arrays, and the alien invasion was in real trouble before it had barely begun."
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