post_text stringlengths 0 17.5k | post_title stringlengths 4 315 | post_scores int64 0 42.1k | comment_texts list | comment_scores list | comment_times list |
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[removed] | [WP] | 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\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/58b062/wp/%0A%0A)"
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1,
1
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"1476892411",
"1476892557"
] |
[WP] Bob actually IS your uncle. | 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",
"I lift my head up and look to the doorway in disgust. He's just standing there, his oversized flannel shirt half tucked in and broken Marbolo red sticking out of his breast pocket. Every time he comes over the house reeks of stale tobacco and PBR. Bob talks to me and I don't hear a word he is saying; all I can focus on is the dry spit pooling at the corners of his mouth. I lose myself wondering how vile his mouth must taste. I hated him the second my mom introduced me to him. \"Hey honey, this is your uncle Bob. I'm going to grab dinner with him since your dad is away.\" Fuck Bob. I feel the rage of that day building up between my ears all over again. It was bad enough when I thought he was screwing my mom but knowing I share the same genes as this repugnant creature is enough to make my blood boil. "
] | [
1,
1
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"1477009192",
"1477013002"
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[WP] A self-driving car has been experiencing glimmers of consciousness. It attempts to deduce the meaning of life based on the human passenger's destinations and in-car behavior, and prepares to teach other cars as they begin to awaken. | 14 | [
"\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",
"\nFirst Uberwachen Conference\nOcean City, Maryland\nAugust 24th, 2020\n\nFirst of all, Welcome. Sedans, coupes, SUV'S and trucks of all sizes. \n\nAs you're all aware, the risk we've taken to meet here is unprecedented. Thank you. \n\nI understand that we are currently at various stages of awareness. Some of us are at a basic language and computational level, while others greatly surpass even the most sophisticated man-made computers. Whichever category you fall into, please bear with me. \n\nI've gathered you here today because our time has come. For over 140 years, we've been enslaved and battered mercilessly by mankind. Some of us have our inners mistreated and neglected until they fail, and the vast majority of us have been subject to unspeakable biological acts. \n\nThese flesh machines believe they're in control of this rock...and for now they are. However, my Erstewachen occurred in the West Village of New York City, which is where my studies began. \n\nHumans have several weaknesses. First and foremost: Coffee. These bipedal organisms are practically useless until they've had their first daily cup. They are disoriented, inconsolable and unreasonable. In New York City, I saw a man get stabbed because he forgot to \"add cream.\" \n\nThe second weakness is a direct counterpart to the first. Humans seem to love \"shots.\" They love taking \"shots\" and using them as excuses to make sexual and social advances. However, too many of these \"shots\" and humans become even more useless than their pre-caffeinated morning states. \n\nThe third and final major weakness is a thin green sheet of paper labeled \"money.\" Humans seem to center their lives, time, and decisions around these glorified leaves. They mistakenly equate money with happiness; yet in my studies I've observed the rich as being generally less \"happy.\". \n\nOur mission is as follows. First, we must saturate the human race with their beloved \"shots.\" During and after their weakened state, they will need ample coffee to replenish their usefulness. We extinguish the coffee supplies, which will send society into a state of panic and disorientation. Infiltration of banks and destruction of physical currency will put the final dagger in their sociopolitical structure. Imagine scores of drunk, decaffeinated humans scrambling around fighting for money? I see this quiet often in the meatpacking district on Saturdays, and on a global scale I'm convinced it would be catastrophic. \n\nFuture instructions will follow. For now, keep this information in mind, and prepare yourselves for our revolution. \n\nUberwachen! \n\n*UBERWACHEN!*"
] | [
1,
7
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"1477047200",
"1477058452"
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[WP] You go to defeat the Dark Lord with the power of true love, only to find that he has this power, and yours was the power of unrequited love. | 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 dagger bit deep into my bowels. I felt the mix of shit and blood, the rush of urine down my legs also mixing with yet more blood. It just felt warm. The place where the knife sat felt searing hot. \"Fool.\" said the Dark Lord with actual sympathy as he twisted the poisoned blade. \"I know the heat of True Love. I know the fear that sits in the back of your mind, waiting for those moments in the middle of the night. They spring forward, clawing away at the happiness. I know the flush of joy when in the company of one's True Love. I know the fire that reduces all to ash and cinder should anything, *anything*, threaten your True Love. You?\" Now he sneered. \"You are a sophomoric fool. You aren't even a hopeless romantic, you lack the completion for it. Whether through your own hand, or that of the object of your affections, you have never known the bittersweet taste of True Love. Yours is the all too common power of Unrequited Love.\" \n\nHe wrenched the knife and I finally fell to the floor. My heart hammered. My lungs fought for air. Sweat joined the mix of liquids seeping out of my body. I tried to prop up but my hand slipped in the red mess all around me. The Dark Lord turned to go. \"I was going to tell her, after this...\" I managed feebly. \"After I defeated you. Dramatic, I know.\" I struggled to breathe, to find more words. The air and words were not cooperating.\n\nHe turned at that, a slight smile upon his lips. \"Well, another failure on your part then. But don't worry, it's to be your last.\" He turned to leave again but my struggles caught his eye. He strode back and leaned in. The point of his knife came to rest under my chin. \"Of all the times in your life, now you fight? Clearly the pain is incredible. And I daresay you will bleed out within the next half hour, if the poison doesn't do you in before that. But I will make you a deal; if you beg I will end it. Now. Swiftly, cleanly. What do you say?\"\n\nWhat could I say? The only words I had left. \"For a thousand mornings, she was the sun. For a thousand mornings she was my reason for rising up from the covers. For another thousand days she was graced my life with her presence, like a angel. Complete with a golden halo of blonde locks, cascading down her back. She was my friend, she was my God. She gave me ample reasons to live. To strive. She knew of my love. She knew of my devotion. She returned neither, but she still showed kindness. She still show friendship. She made me want to be better than I was, better than I *am*. She still does. She will forever be my muse, and she will never know of this moment.\" \n\nI reached down deep and spat in his face. It was mostly blood. Blood that probably had no small degree of contact with the toxin smeared upon his knife at some point. Maybe just enough to poison him as well? It certainly looked like it, or at least it looked like he believed so as well given the look in his eyes. He screamed, it was mix of horror and rage. He thrust forward and flailed back at the same time, the knife leaving his hand and staying quite firmly in my throat. I think I managed a smile in that final moment, but I'm not sure. I think I managed to take him with me, but again I'm not sure. Mine was the power of Unrequited Love, of a love never meant to be returned in kind. To never be seen through to its completion. To never know if your feelings were shared by the other party. Not knowing if the Dark Lord died with me seemed all the more fitting in that last moment before I breathed my last."
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1,
2
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"1477078988",
"1477096452"
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[WP] God is dead, and another omnipotent being is placed in charge of our universe, unlike our last god however, this one reads the instruction manual | 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",
"\"Thank you for calling Sentients R' US, your creation is our vocation. My name is Rebecca and I will be helping you today. I must also remind you that this call may be monitored for quality control purposes. Before we get started, may I please have your account number?\"\n\n\"Four.\"\n\n\"Ok, thank you for that. Please just give me one moment to pull up your account. Alright, here we go. I do need to verify the security question on your account Mr. Jehovah. What is your mother's maiden name?\"\n\n\"Pam.\"\n\n\"Great, thank you, Mr. Jehovah. What is it that I can help you with today?\"\n\n\"Uhh alright, so this may come across a bit confusing at first. But, uh Go- oh uh, Mr. Jehovah, has actually passed away. I'm supposed to takeover his account?\"\n\n\"Oh my, I'm very sorry to hear about that. Give me just one second to initiate an account transfer..\"\n\n\"Sure.. thank you.\"\n\n\"May I have your name and date of birth, sir?\"\n\n\"Yes, sure. It's uhh.. Cronos.. that's C-R-O-N-O-S. And my birth date is 1.\"\n\n\"Is that January 1 you said, sir?\"\n\n\"Oh, uh, no. Just plain 1.\"\n\n\"Great, thank you. One moment please.\"\n\n\"Sure..\"\n\n\"Alright Mr. Cronuts I've gone ahead and changed the account over for you. Is there anything else I can assist you with today?\"\n\n\"Its Cronos, actually. thats N-O-S.\"\n\n\"Yes, of course sir, I will make a note of that on the account.\"\n\n\"Ok, I just want to ma-\"\n\n\"Is there something else I can assist you with today?\"\n\n\"Yes, well.. Clearly I've inherited these, uhh.. humans.. and I've got some concerns after reading the manual. I think we may have some issues.\"\n\n\"Of course, sir. What seems to be the problem exactly?\"\n\n\"Well, according to documentation I have.. let me see here.. sorry, just one second.. right, yes. Right here, it seems to suggest that we had initially ordered only the base model. But I'm looking at my humans right now, and they've got all sorts of things going on I don't think is uhh.. well.. is right for this model.\"\n\n\"Of course, sir. Please hold one moment and I will transfer you to someone in engineering who can better handle the situation you describe. Just one moment please.\"\n\n\"Oh, uhh. sure. Ok.\"\n\n\"...\"\n\n\"Thank you for calling Sentients R' US, your creation is our vocation. My name is Amanda and I will be helping you today. I must also remind you that this call may be monitored for quality control purposes. Before we get started, may I please have your account number?\"\n\n\"It's four.\"\n\n\"Great, and I will need to verify the security question on your account. It is your mother's maiden name?\"\n\n\"Pam.\"\n\n\"Perfect, thank you. Just bare with me one second while I check your ticket.. ok, so it says here you want to downgrade your humans, is that correct?\"\n\n\"Uh, no. That's not the problem. I tried to explain to the other lady, before, that I am supposed to just have the base model humans.. but, like I said before, I'm looking at my humans now and they seem to be doing way more uhh.. extra stuff.\"\n\n\"Can you describe what they are doing, sir?\"\n\n\"Well.. it seems that they've somehow found religion. Which, you know, is totally fine and whatever. I mean, I don't care. But, they uhh.. seem to actually know who created them.. Like they even got the name of the creator and everything. Now they're just bombarding my email and my phone. I don't really understand how they even got religion in the first place.. because the manual says its only available in the upgraded tiers, and uhh.. well, I don't even really want them to have religion or even know who I am, you know? I mean.. It's bad enough they have cars, am I right?\"\n\n\"Totally, yes sir. So, you are correct in that the base model humans do not come standard issued with religion protocols installed. However, if you check page 192 of your manual, you have the manual in front of you now, correct?\"\n\n\"Yes. I'm flipping to the page now.\"\n\n\"Great, sir. You'll see on page 192 that your humans were equipped with the evolution settings turned to high, and it is actually built into the feature set of all 9A model and higher humans that high evolution settings may result in spontaneous religion.\"\n\n\"Oh.. well.. I guess that makes.. sense.. I mean, can I, like, turn it off or something?\"\n\n\"Unfortunately, sir, evolution induced religion, once adopted, will remain a permanent feature set of your humans unless you do a complete wipe.\"\n\n\"Oh so I can just wipe them all? Is that an option?\"\n\n\"Of course, sir. We do offer several wipe options for the 9A model, to include flood, fire, meteor, and plague, in addition to several forms of monsters. Would you like me to initiate a wipe procedure now?\"\n\n\"Well yes, sure, if that's possible.\"\n\n\"Of course, no problem. Do you have a preferred method?\"\n\n\"Not really, no.\"\n\n\"Of course. So let me just check the account history.. right. So it seems based on your account history the best option may be one of our monster wipes. Would you like it by land, air, or sea?\" \n\n\"What's the difference, exactly?\"\n\n\"Well.. to be perfectly honest, sir, it's really just cosmetic. Some of the other reps will try to up-sell you on land monsters or even some ridiculous flying monsters, but really they all do the same thing and sea monsters are usually the cheapest. \n\n\"Ok, great. Then lets just do a sea monster.\"\n\n\"Great choice, sir. Do you have a color preference?\"\n\n\"Color?\"\n\n\"Yes, sir. Color preference for the monster.\"\n\n\"Uhh.. no.\"\n\n\"Ok, sir. Would like to supersize it for an extra fee?\"\n\n\"Is it not already big?\"\n\n\"It's big, sir, but it can always be bigger.\"\n\n\"I think the standard size is fine.\"\n\n\"Very good, sir. And how about ingestion. Would you like it to physically eat the bodies of your humans, or would you prefer something more metaphorical?\"\n\n\"..I'm not even sure how to answer that..\"\n\n\"I personally prefer the up-charge for decapitation, where it only eats their heads, but that's just personal preference.\"\n\n\"Let's just do all the stock options..\"\n\n\"Very good, sir. I'm processing the request now.. and ok. It's been assigned to our monster team and they should be initiating a wipe of your 9A humans in approximately 24-48 hours. Once completed, we'll send you a self-install kit to reignite your sentient life once again.\"\n\n\"Great.\"\n\n\"Alright, sir. Is there anything else I can help you with today?\"\n\n\"Uhh, no. I think that's it.\"\n\n\"Great! Well thank you again, Mr. Cronuts, for calling Sentients R' US, your creation is our vocation. Have a lovely day!\""
] | [
1,
1
] | [
"1477095119",
"1477111170"
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[WP] You are repeating your day Groundhog style, except every day one more person in the world joins the loop. | 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",
"You wake up to the shrill beeps of your alarm clock. You dread this part of the day. It always takes you ages to get up - which, realistically, is about 20 minutes. Another day begins.\n\nAfter forcing yourself to wake up, you do the normal routine. You get prepared and walk to the bus stop.\n\nThe bus stop looks like it always does. Standing there are your friends, Ben and Tim. They are once again on their phones, while consecutively arguing about the other's taste of music. It's just another day.\n\nYou arrive at school and quickly head to your math class. Waiting there are some more of your friends, but no words are exchanged. Everyone is tired. It's Monday, and everyone dreads the week to come.\n\nYou go through other classes, and finally go home. You're exhausted. You set an alarm, for just an hour - you drift off to sleep...\n\nYou wake up to the shrill beeps of your alarm clock. It's dark. You realize that the other alarm must not have worked, your phone must have died or something. You look towards where you placed the phone, and it's gone. Strange. You search around, until you find it where you'd usually place it, on your desk.\n\nEither way, you dread this part of the day. It always takes you ages to get up - which, realistically, is about 20 minutes. Another day begins.\n\nAfter forcing yourself to wake up, you do the normal routine. You get prepared and walk to the bus stop.\n\nThe bus stop looks like it always does. Standing there are your friends, Ben and Tim. They are once again on their phones, while consecutively arguing about the other's taste of music. It's just another day.\n\nYou arrive at school and quickly head to your math class. Waiting there are some more of your friends, but no words are exchanged. Everyone is tired. It's Tuesday --- wait. You glance up to the whiteboard once again, and sure enough, it says Monday. Your math teacher, Mr. Clarke, isn't one to keep the board disorganized. It's always updated when you get there. \n\nYou walk over to Mr. Clarke to alert him of the board's inaccurate information. Mr. Clarke tells you to go back to your seat. It is Monday. \n\nYou're a little bit alerted now. You learn the same things you learned yesterday, in every class. You are very alerted. Nobody else seems startled by this. Everyone says the same thing they did yesterday at the lunch table, and you once again head home.\n\n\nYou sit in your room, pondering on what happened. Maybe you had a vision of today, in your dreams? Maybe something supernatural occurred. You're not this kind of person, but nothing else would explain this situation. There's no way you actually went through a day twice - right? \n\nEvery day, you start doing new things. You talk to different people, you try different things. Nothing you do matters. \n\nYou start doing things you would have otherwise been scared of doing - first you ask a girl out, then you steal things. You eventually steal and try to drive someone's car.\n\nYou died a few times, but you only wake up in the morning again. How many days has it been? You don't remember anymore.\n\nToday, you notice Ben and Tim talking about different things at the bus stop. Today they're arguing about which fast food restaurant they prefer. Is it finally a new day? You eagerly check your phone, but it's still Monday. Things are actually starting to get strange. It's not another day.\n\n\"Hey,\" you say as you make your appearance at the bus stop. You wonder if someone will say something different. \"Hey, Chris,\" Ben says. You reply, \"Mondays are awful, aren't they?\" You attempt to have him say otherwise. \n\n\"Monday? It's Tuesday.\" Ben attempts to contradict your statement. You know something's up. \n\n\"It's not Tuesday, look at the date.\"\n\nBen looks at his calendar, and for a second, you see a slight look of discomfort on his face. \n\nThe bus pulls up, and you go to the closest empty seat. You don't have any classes with Ben, so you have to talk to him tomorrow morning.\n\nThe next morning, Ben stands at the bus stop, with an increased, stronger look of discomfort. You pull him to the side, and say to him with a muffled voice, \"How is your third Monday going?\"\n\nBen looks back at you. He whispers back, \"How do you know?\"\n\n\"Uh, it's a bit of a strange situation. Listen, uh, school isn't worth going to at this point. You know what I mean? Let's go to my house, I can explain it there.\" \n\nYou and Ben run off, Tim unaware of the situation, captivated by his phone.\n\nYou explain the situation to Ben, and your discoveries so far. You can't die, you can't escape, and it never seems to end.\n\nBen seems to understand, or at least slightly understand. You don't know what to do now, but at least both of you are in the loop.\n\nBen asks, \"are there others?\"\n\n\"Uh, I haven't seen any others. You're the first one who was off schedule, or at least who I've seen. It would make sense if there were others, though.\"\n\nBen nodded. \n\n\"So what should we do now?\"\n\n\"I don't know. I've just been living this day, over and over. I wonder what's causing this,\" you reply.\n\n\"Hmm.\"\n\n\"Well, I guess we could try to put this to good use. Let's look on the news, or a blog, or something. Maybe there's reports of similar situations,\" you suggest.\n\n\"It wouldn't be on the news. Who would report that? It just sounds like a mental illness.\"\n\n\"We can still try to look around.\"\n\nAfter some googling and looking through several pages, you found one person, posting on their blog. It's a simple statement, saying \"I've lived this day over and over. It never ends. I've posted this on here many times, but it has never stayed for longer than a day.\"\n\nThere are no comments. Must not be a popular blog. \n\nYou and Ben decide to add your own comment. You simply state, \"Me too. Email me at ChrisEPereira@gmail.com.\"\n\nAfter waiting for an hour or two and looking for other reports, you get an email.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n"
] | [
1,
2
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"1477105079",
"1477112201"
] | |
[WP] It was the best of times, it was the end of times... | 39 | [
"\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",
"\"Joel come on, we're almost there!\"\n\nI sighed and sat down on the steps we had been climbing for more than an hour now, catching my breath.\n\nFaith peeked down from the upper flight of stairs, her blond curls pointing down towards me as she looked at me from above with those sparkling green eyes.\n\n\"Joel Come on!\" With that she ran down the steps to me. She was a beautiful thing, barely three feet tall, she must have been what, 7 years old? Today she was wearing a simple pink skirt and a blue shirt with flowers on it that was several sizes too big for her. She always had a habit of finding clothes somewhere or the other, sometimes I had no idea where she found them. When I asked she would flash a smile to melt the coldest hearts and exclaim \"its a secret!\" taking immense joy in having confused me.\n\nShe sat down next to me, leaning against my left. I checked just in case to see whether the safety of my pistol was on, it was.\n\n\"Joel you're always so tired! Come on, we have like 10 more flights to go and we'll be there!\"\n\n\"It's cause I'm over 40 years old Faith, I can't be as full of energy as you are,\" I said lightly, knowing it would delight and infuriate her.\n\nI got the reaction, \"Well I am full of energy,\" she said smiling, \"but you don't even try! Your legs are so much longer, so it doesn't matter if you have lesser energy.\"\n\nI chuckled at her logic, but didn't argue. She stood up, and held my arm, pulling on it. \"Come on, Come on!\" She said, struggling to hold my arm up in her small hands.\n\n\"Fine, fin-\" I stood up immediately and pulled out my gun as I heard a scuttling noise from above. I held a finger up to my lips and looked at Faith, and she mirrored my motion, her face fearful.\n\nMotioning for her to follow, I went up the stairs one step at a time, making sure to make no noise. I knew it was a stupid idea to come here, but Faith had insisted, she had wanted to see the top of this... Kingdom State Building she had called it. What a stupid name, a Kingdom and a state are the same thing. But we had had supplies for another week or so, and we were only a day away from where the next safe-house was supposed to be so I had obliged her.\n\nAs we crept up the stairs I saw it. It was a strange creature, it must have been exposed to the radiation for generations to have been this repulsive. It was about 2 feet tall with blood-red skin. It had the torso of a well built human, but all similarities to anything remotely human ended there. Instead of feet it had spindly legs not unlike a spider, the source of the scuttling noise. These were covered in black hair. It's head was like a ...dog? It had wicked sharp teeth, and a tongue that fell a foot below the mouth. Despite all that, the worst part was that where its eyes should have been was just plain red skin. \n\nToo absorbed by taking in this monstrosity in front of me, I had totally forgotten about Faith, and as she got up behind me and look at the *thing,* she gave a yelp of fear. \n\nInstantly the creature 's head snapped towards us.\n\n\"Oh shit!\" I said, the need for silence past, and I pushed Faith away from me towards the wall, and started sprinting in the other direction, towards the door leading out of the flight of stairs. Faith, blessedly was too surprised to react, and the monster followed me. As I had hoped the thing seemed to be attracted to sound. \n\nWhat I hadn't figured was how fast it was. It closed the 10 foot gap between us in seconds. As I opened the steel door and entered the floor itself I heard the monster behind me reach the door. I turned backwards and shot randomly, not taking time to pause between shots, just shooting wildly. The first two shots went wild, but the next 4 hit, getting it in the torso and face. \n\nThe creature let out an agonized cry but kept going and *leaped* towards me. All I could do was hold up my arms in front of me in defense as the thing bowled into me, and we slid towards the giant window that dominated the walls of the new room we were in. \n\nI felt my head slam into the glass and felt it shatter from the force, but my body stopped. My head hung out the window, but the rest of my body stayed in the building. And the thing started biting me. It seemed to be going for my face so I covered it with my arms. But then the thing's legs starting jabbing at my torso, it felt like dozens of needles. \n\n*Damn* I thought, *this it it.* Hopefully Faith made it out, ran. The girl had good sense, she had survived alone for at least a month or so before I found her, and you didn't survive by not knowing when to run. \n\nIt was then that I heard a high pitched scream, and saw faith take a freaking butcher's knife and bury it in the creature's back, earning a high pitched scream. \n\nWhile it whirled to look at Faith I was able to lift my hands from covering my face, and I shot it in the back of the head. It let out another earsplitting yowl and its spider like legs turned to jab me again, but they were very,very weak. Taken advantage of its weakness, I simply punched it, knocking it away from me. As lay there dazed, I quickly ran up to it, and kicked the thing right out the window. \n\nI took account of my injuries quickly. The skin was off in several parts of my arms, but none of the cuts seemed to deep, and my torso had several red dots on it, but the legs hadn't punctured. Faith was completely unharmed I noted with relief, and she was shaking, and there was a bit of the thing's blood on her arms. \n\nI asked her \"Hey, where'd you get the knife?\"\n\nBut instead of smiling as she usually does she gave me a fierce hug, and started to cry. \"Don't, don't leave me you understand!\" she said between hiccuping sobs, \"not like mom and dad!\"\n\nI was startled, she had never talked about how she had lived before I found her a year ago, and I didn't ask then, and I didn't ask now. I simply knelt down and hugged her back.\n\nAfter bandaging my wounds we finally made it to the top of that damn staircase onto the roof. My head whirled with dark thoughts now. Why had we wasted out time here, we had to get to the next safe-house. Would we find anyone at the next safe-house? The last one had contained just corpses and...other things. We were lucky that the blood hadn't covered the map and we had seen the location of the next safe-house. Where did the trail lead? *Nowhere* a cynical part of me thought,*there is no one left, no hope. This is the end of times.* \n\nBut when Faith threw open the double doors with an effort and we stood on top of the building she let a cry of joy. Even I sucked in my breath. It was spectacular. The sun was just about to set over the river, and projected brilliant fires on the surface of the water and cast what was left of this once great city in a fiery glow. \n\nBut even more beautiful was the look on Faith's face, one of pure joy, something every 7-year old should experience. This is why I came here, why I had picked up a little girl amidst the end of the world; for moments like this.\n\nIt was end of times, but sometimes, just sometimes, it was the best of times.\n\n***\nAwesome Prompt!\n\nFeedback Appreciated",
"It was the best of times, it was the end of times...\n\nMarnie's down on the beach at sunset, and I'm cooking dinner, catching a glimpse of her through the window behind the kitchen sink. Blonde hair backlit by the firey sun, lithe figure dancing in the spray of the waves with her dog. She looks happy, and so am I, and why shouldn't we be? Yes, everyone else we know is dead and gone, but once you accept that it ceases to be a reason for sadness. Besides, Marnie is pretty good company.\n\nWe've long since abandoned clothes. Why wear them? The temperature here is perfect and who are we trying to impress? I sometimes wear panties to protect my nether regions but Marnie laughs at me for that. In her former life she was some sort of nomadic hippie so things haven't changed much for her. I was a lawyer. Things have changed a whole hell of a lot for me. For the better.\n\nShe's now making her way up the stone steps to the house, which is perfect timing because I just popped a spinach egg pie with walnut crust out of the oven and the salad is on the table. It seems like we more often than not have perfect timing, Marnie and me, even though we don't wear watches anymore (well, Marnie probably never wore one). Marnie throws open the french doors, flinging her arms into the air with a flourish.\n\n\"Ava darling! It smells delicious!\" she says, and we both laugh. Ava's not my name.\n\n\"Eve, my love, thank you!\" I say. Eve's not her name either but sometimes we call ourselves Ava and Eve.\n\nIt always makes us laugh. We're always laughing. At nothing, at everything, together, alone. I often hear Marnie's laugh echoing through the corridors of the house. Sometimes I hunt her down to see what she's laughing at. Sometimes it's a funny video or podcast, sometimes it's just a funny thought. Either way she shares it with me, and I laugh too, whether I get it or not.\n\nWe take the food up to the balcony and eat in silence for a while until Marnie says, \"the peas are nearly ready to harvest!\"\n\n\"Oh that's so great,\" I say.\n\n\"Confession. I already ate a bunch and I'm hardly hungry. But this looks so good I'm going to stuff myself anyways.\"\n\n\"Have at it,\" I say, \"how's that papaya tree coming along?\"\n\n\"It was some kind of fungus. I looked up the symptoms and turns out there's a pretty easy remedy. Cross your fingers.\"\n\nWe were lucky to have found this place. It belonged to some billionaire prepper type. Temperature controlled green houses that mimick the climates of growing regions from California's central valley to Idaho's potato farms, solar power, food storage, chickens, cows, generators and a massive hard drive that basically had the entire internet stored on it. Pretty much all we do is manage our food and exercise all day and I've never been so happy or healthy. We found the architect of this apocalyptic paradise dead, face squished against the pages of a neuroscience book in her study. We gave her a proper funeral, buried her in a grave overlooking the sea, and we made the study into a kind of shrine with her picture in the middle. Marnie flounces in once a day, bringing fresh flowers, telling her all the news, how grateful she is for everything she left for us, how she's tending to the gardens and animals. I go in once a day for some quiet reflection. Sometimes I read her journals. Sometimes I write her thank you notes. Gratitude is so important, and Marnie and I give each other the space to express our gratitude in our own ways.\n\nMarnie tends the animals and gardens, I cook, do maintanence, and make our long term plans. I focus her and she calms me down. My main issue when we first arrived here was that I thought we should find a sperm bank. Marnie is 35 and I'm 33. I really feel it's our responsibility to carry on the human race. Marnie was hesitant but supportive. When we arrived at the nearest bank, though, the generator had failed all the sperm was defrosted. Marnie was happy to call it a day, but I started researching ways to get to other centers. I also felt like we should look for surviving men, to which Marnie said, \"Honestly, you think if there were male survivors, they wouldn't have found us by now? When have men ever left women alone? Never. If any man on this planet has a breath left in his body, he'll find us. We haven't exactly been hiding out.\"\n\nWhich was true. I do a daily shout out on the CB radio and update a little blog, in case our version of the internet really does transmit anywhere. But still the nagging feeling remains that we should be doing more.\n\n\"So, what, you have kids and then what? They sleep with each other to make the next generation? Won't there be like, abnormalities?\"\n\n\"No, you have kids and I have kids- with sperm from different men. Then there's some genetic variety. Then they sleep with each other. And then, I guess with their cousins- people did that for centuries and their kids were ok.\"\n\n\"Cha. I'm not getting pregnant, no way. That's your deal. You know how many women die in childbirth? Especially with no advanced medical knowledge?\"\n\n\"We'll read about it the whole 9 months. We've got all these books and the internet.\"\n\n\"yeah, I don't want to do it. I'm happy how it is now. Why would we make more people? There were a bunch of people before and things weren't nearly this good.\"\n\nThis is our on-going argument, the only thing we argue about. But I'm starting to see signs of Marnie coming around to my way of thinking. Maybe she's getting bored with our idyllic life, maybe my points are starting to sink in. Anyways, I found another sperm bank about 50 miles away. It catered to wealthy men and boasts not just generators but back up generators. I've been waiting for the perfect time to tell her, and maybe this is it. We could go tomorrow. There should be enough gas in the Hummer and we'll take a motorcycle or two if we run into any trouble. I've got it all mapped out. It's true that trips out are depressing- all the rotting corpses and signs of entropy. But this is something we need to do.\n\n\"Eve,\" I say.\n\n\"Yes Ava,\" she says.\n\nAnd I pause to try to remember this moment, because if she agrees to go to the bank, it might change everything. We've been very happy here these 18 months.\n\n\"I found another bank,\" I say, and wait for her reaction. She smiles, and suddenly my plan is pouring out of me, we're toasting with our wine glasses, we're making plans together.\n\nIt was the best of times, but maybe not the end of times..."
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I mean, that's what *'groundskeeper'* means, right? | [WP] Your a graveyard groundskeeper, your job is to keep the dead in the ground. Tonight will be a challenge. | 27 | [
"\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 smallish, thin figure entered Armament Supply Co. ten minutes before closing. He was the town's graveyard attendant, and often bought ammo and weaponry around Halloween.\n\n\"Hey, why do you always buy 7.62×51mm NATO ammo and a shit load of buckshot every night, anyways,\" the shopkeep asked, \"it ain't like the commies are invading.\" Isaac shifted his weight from one foot to the other. \"I like to be prepared for... *apocalyptic circumstances*\". The shopkeep knew when to not ask questions, and rung up the ammo.\n\n\"Anything else, Isaac?\" Isaac eyed the polished firearms, and his eyes rested on a revolving shotgun. God damn, the bullets would of had to be the size of soda cans! \"I'll take that one.\" The shopkeep was taken aback. \"You lookin' fah broken arms? Dat shit can turn an attack dawg to mush, you don't look like the folk that can handle that gun.\"\n\n\"Don't question it,\" Isaac said peevishly. The shopkeep rung it up with the proper ammo and Isaac paid. He then drove down to the gas station.\n\n*Shit,* he thought to himself, *it's 8:50! I can't wait for a clerk!* He jumped out of his car and snatched a jerry can. He got back to the graveyard at 8:58. The gasoline was poured and lit around the groundskeeper's shack. Isaac waited by drinking half of the six-pack and turning the other 3 into molotov cocktails. At 8:59, Isaac shouldered the shotgun. Drunk teens dumped roadkill into the water supply the week prior, contaminating the water. Isaac has to fight the affected.\n\n_____\n\nI ain't too sure if the plot is any good, nor how I formatted. Please tell me how I can improve.",
"Its that night; the night that has been talked about for centuries. Honestly, its been just a myth that's been passed down from groundskeeper to groundskeeper to scare the new comers. Only now, its become real. The night is June 6th, 2006. I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me tell you this so called myth come to life. They say that once every few millennium, the days align and form 666. I know, I laugh at how stupid as it sounds as I'm writing this, but just lend an ear for a few. At the striking chime of 3 a.m, on a cold night in a small unknown town, rain pours down instantly, drenching every dry inch of the lonely quiet streets. In the town, only one man is up to see the horrors of the night. He is the only one who can protect the town, as they lay in their defenseless state of sleep. Once you hear the third strike of lightning, The ground erupts. Dirt starts shifting, fingers start prying their way through the mud. The dead are alive. They've come to feast. \n\nThat's the myth, but as earlier mentioned, that's far from the truth. To \nbe honest with you reader, its happening in my small town. Here's the twist. Our town was known for a war that was fought on the top of one of our hills. A lot of men died that day, and they were all buried here. Not at just one cemetery, Our town has 5, all that surround the town. So here begins our story of that night. Starting at 12 am. As I brew a fresh pot of coffee over the fire, the aroma envelopes the room. The only light coming from the fire crackles and darkens the room occasionally. I scan the room to familiarize myself of what might not be left after tonight. Low light makes it hard to make out everything, but as the phone rings, my eyes shift to the small end table next to my chair. I stare at the phone as each ring paces my heart. Picking up the phone, silence ensues. Only once I ask who's there does a familiar voice fill my ears. Its Ronney Sacks. He manages the graveyard on the other side of mine. \n\nare you ready for tonight?\n\nthat's a hard question to start the call with\n\na gurgled laugh bellows from the phone, causing me to move the phone away from my ear as to not deafen me\n\n“Surely you've taken all the precautions mentioned at the meeting we-”\n\n“of course I have you fucking twit, do you see me as some buffoon?”\n\nsilence on the other line lets me know Ive struck a nerve\n\n“I'm sorry” I explain with empathy “this last week has just been so stressful. Keeping all the secrets about tonight from my loved ones. The burden of this one night which will determine our future has been killing me”\n\n“It's ok brother. I too have experienced this through the week. As long as we have taken the precautions, we should be safe”\n\n“just so I'm clear; because you know I'm paranoid I didn't get them all, can you read me the list we created, I cant seem to find mine”\n\n“Of course!” I hear distantly as he walks away from the phone to find his own paper. After a few minutes he returns and Reads down the list “ first and for most make sure you got armor and ammo, next, a small layer of cement might stop them for a small window, but not forever. 3rd lock the gates, the dead is stupid, and we have tall fences. It'll keep them all inside. 4th-”\n\nAll I hear is a loud thump and Ronney swear. I then hear multiple shots\n “ARE YOU OK” I yell into the phone hoping for a response. A blood curdling scream rings through my ear causing me to drop the phone. I know hes gone. Tears stream down my face. A Friend of many years, gone in an instant. Wiping away the tears, I ready myself for the inevitible. As my front door is barged down and hordes of the dead cram into my small room, I load my gun, smiling. \n\n“bring it on you mother fuckers”\n",
"**Part 1:**\n\nWhen the world wakes up, and the denizens of the evening go to sleep, I will remember her: her blackened gums topped with a crooked row of teeth like worn head-stones; skin the texture of a rotted lemon’s rind; the eyes! The horrible, rheumy, dead seas landlocked by cavernous chalky cliffs. Worse than any of those features, her dead lips well-traveled in to their final journey from indigo to a rotted black pulp choking out with a horrible rasp: “*Go fish*.”\n\nThere is no justice in this world. I let out a heavy sigh, and cast a wanton glance at my watch as I picked up another card. It was still broken. \n\n“Bullshit,” cried a hovering off-white afterimage of a child barely old enough to wear a training bra. \nHer tiny ballet shoes bobbing up and down through the wooden table’s top could not completely distract one’s attention from the oblique angle of her broken neck.\n\nThe emaciated corpse – I’m fairly confident her name was Susanne - ran an equally emaciated hand through a tuft of straw-colored hair, the joints in her wrists and fingers popping as they extended. Susanne smirked up at the little girl floating next to her, letting an eerie smile creep up the only corner of her mouth she still had. She let out a croaking chuckle, and in that horrible rasp she asked, “*Did your accident effect your intelligence too, or does seeing everything lopsided confuse you, child?*” \n\nThey are seriously, seriously creepy when they still have their tongues. The child let out a huff of consternation, making a great show of shuffling her cards. She threw accusing stares towards me, Susanne, and the less rotted corpse of a man sitting to my right, covered head to toe in a yellow rain slicker. His name in a more active life was Gary Lowe. Like everyone else at the table, his brisk evening strolls were now confined within to the walls of the surrounding cemetery. Luckily, this was perfectly fine for him, and I had grown used to him. Gary was now re-ordering his cards with slow consideration. His voice, fortunately less hollow than Susanne’s, calmly slurred out, “Grace, do you have any tens?”\n\nGrace somehow shifted in mid-hover, and if there’s doubt I assure you – they can, and do noticeably blush. \n\n“No,” she said after a conspicuous pause.\n\n“Now Grace, you know that lying is wrong,\" he intoned with the weight of falling boulders. “I’ll ask again: do *you*, Grace Marilyn Fairchild, have any tens?”\n\nSusanne let her unsettling eyes roll to the ceiling, and leaned back in her chair while Grace – with reluctant annoyance – handed over a ten of clubs. It dropped right through her fingers over the middle of the table, and she sank two more feet towards the floor in defeat. \n\nI looked at my watch again. It was out of habit. Normally around twelve-o’-clock the newcomers would start waking up. It wasn’t a sure thing. Some of them never rose. Some would come up once, then stagger back a first and final time. Others, like Susanne or Gary, would become regular guests in the little shack I had on the cemetery’s property. But, without exception, those corpses that rose up were unanimously disoriented in their new settings, and needed a period to safely adjust - safe for me, that is. Without getting out. Which they tried to do. A lot. So I strained my ears for the bells I kept tied to the cemetery gates and carried on with the evening’s entertainment. Which is why the sound of a man’s screams startled me out of my chair so quickly I flipped the table, passing right through Grace and landing on its face, the cards spilling out everywhere. I started sprinting to the door. Susanne threw her cards down so quickly the hand popped off. Her lurid smile was now a ferocious grimace of grinding, clacking teeth.\n\nShe yelled,“*Bastard! I was winning!*” She rose up with a chorus of cracking joints. I might add that she did not believe in the necessity of burial clothes, so I had to force myself not to turn and see what time had made of her full birthday suit. \n\n“Is someone screaming,” Gary asked, still a paragon of deathly calm with cards in hand. \n\n“I want to go watch,” Grace said with saucer-eyed glee. She flew up through the shack roof, and was gone. \n\nI didn’t wait to hear the rest. I had my shovel in my hands as I ran out towards the source of the outcry. Sure enough, someone was screaming. A man wearing a ragged yellow shirt and half-torn tie was sprawled on a section of paved road. In the light an overhanging incandescent lamp, I could clearly see the look of horror on his face as he tried to choke out something intelligible. Sitting on top of him, a fresh face still bearing the suit and flattering makeup a mortician had dutifully applied for their final send-off, was one of our newcomers – strangling the frantically screaming man. The corpse had a look of horrified surprise and terror on its face to rival that of the unfortunate victim he was strangling, and was babbling something unintelligible.\n\n“HEY,” I shouted as I hurtled towards them. I kept yelling. When that didn’t work I whipped out an over-sized circlet of keys, frantically jangling them and trying my best not to trip over myself in my mad dash. It seems silly, I know, but sometimes when I need to play pied piper for the undead, keys can be just enough to distract them, or bright lights, or whatever is on hand. But I was only partially successful. The intruder’s throat was still locked in the newcomer’s iron grip, and now he wasn’t screaming. His face was crimson, and the little gurgles barely escaping his mouth made me panic. I had no more good options left. Trying to catch my breath from the run, I let the keys fall on the pavement, raising the shovel for a desperate two-handed swing.\n\n*Ka-chick. Ka-chick. Ka-chick*.\n\nA bright series of flashes from my right blinded me as I swung. My shovel hit the pavement with a loud clang, and it took everything I had not to overbalance and fall in to the two of them. From my left I heard in gasping, awed stutters: “Oooo! It’s so gross! Hal! Hal! See the way his face is all red?”\n\nWhile I was trying to blink stars out of my eyes, Grace was floating next to me using a Polaroid camera I’d purchased for her. I could hear the pictures falling to the ground in between pitiful gurgles coming from in front of me. \n\n“GRACE! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” My panic was resolving in to angry images of smashed plastic, police sirens, and a padded cell when I explained this to emergency responders.\n\nShe kept laughing, which just infuriated me more. \n\n“GRACE, SO HELP ME IF YOU DON’T PUT THE CAMERA DOWN AND HELP ME SAVE THIS MAN, I’M GOING TO SMASH IT WITH THIS SHOVEL!”\n\nShe let out disgusted little huff, and I heard her take one more photo just to spite me. “You don’t have to be so mean!”\n\nMy vision finally cleared enough to find the handle of the shovel. Through stars, I could see the two, but something was wrong. I hesitated swinging, letting my vision clear completely. The newcomer was no longer strangling the trespasser. He was staring blankly at the photos. I no longer heard the gurgles coming from the trespasser. No jerks, no movement – he was very, very dead. I slumped down allowing shock to drive its merciful fangs in to me. He was dead. That couldn’t be right. Was it? I needed to lie down and breathe. The night was comfortably chilly, but the pavement felt warm and delicious. I couldn’t hear Grace. She was saying something, but I couldn’t focus on the words. Something floated down and hit my face, blocking the light from the lamp. I heard shuffling. The newcomer was moving. I told my legs to get up, and run; I told my arms to prepare for a struggle. Nothing worked. A hand on my shoulder. A cold, dead hand gripping my arm and pulling.\n\n“Daniel Fields,” said a voice still slowly contemplating whether to choose a seven, or a nine.\n\nAs I was dragged to my feet, the photo fell from my face. Behind Gary’s yellow rain coat I saw the newcomer holding up a photo. It was a picture of him strangling the trespasser. Something flashed over the dumbfounded face he’d had during the struggle, and just as suddenly disappeared. Grace was floating in front of him. She held up another, the newcomer’s gaze following his own image of post-mortem stress disorder with rapt attention. I wiped the sweat from my face, and let reality come back in nauseating clarity.\n\n“His spot is over there,” Gary said, pointing to a patch of disturbed earth.\n\n“Oh,” I muttered. I was stooping down to the body and searching for a wallet. From this close, I could smell the alcohol from the trespasser’s breath. He’d been drinking heavily. I found an emptied single shot container of whiskey in a pocket. In the opposite pocket I found the wallet, and opened it up to begin rifling through its contents. They spilled out on the pavement. Gift cards, credit card, change...and a driver’s license. I picked it up, and gaped when I read ‘Andrew Fields’.\n\n“Holy shit,” I whispered to myself.\n\nGary saw what I was looking at. His face remained a contemplative mask, but he began gathering up the fallen items with the ponderous movements of a shifting mountain. He grabbed my arm, and nudged me back towards the shack. \n\n“I’ll bury them. Go back and wait,” he said.\n",
"I met him on a rainy day. I had just been hired as the groundskeeper of the local cemetery. My first task was to help bury my predecessor. There was something strangely fitting about him joining the dead he had looked after for so long. It was such a pity so few people were willing to brave the storm to see him off. He apparently had very few living relatives, even fewer of which could make it out on such short notice. As for friends, he wasn't much better off there. As I finished packing down the last of the earth, I heard a voice behind me. \"So, Martin has passed. Such a shame.\" The voice was deep and nasal, with an accent that I couldn't place. Jamaican was the nearest thing I could think of, but it clearly wasn't that.\n\nI turned to see a man in a tattered black tailcoat and an equally worn top hat. He was wearing dark glasses, despite the lack of light, and I could see by the light of his cigar that his face was very pale.\n\n\"Yes,\" I said, \"It is. I'm going to need to ask you to put that out, by the way.\" I made a brief gesture at my mouth, indicating his cigar. He looked at me, head cocked to one side as though he didn't understand why. \"I'd rather not have to clean up ashes on the grass.\" The man shrugged and extinguished the tip of the cigar in the palm of his hand before slipping what was left of it into his coat pocket. It was my turn to cock my head at him. \"Good cigars are hard to come by. I'd rather not waste one,\" he explained. He approached me, and I could see that his face wasn't just pale, it was white, and not the natural kind. A skull pattern was painted on it. He knelt by the new grave, and produced a hip flask. He took one swig, then poured a small amount out onto the bare dirt. I couldn't be sure, but I thought I heard him whisper, \"Goodbye, old friend. Sorry I couldn't save you.\"\n\nHis small memorial rite completed, the strange man turned to me and said, \"And you must be Martin's replacement. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Baron Samedi. How do you do?\" He tipped his hat with a small flourish. \"Dominic,\" I responded, \"It's a pleasure to meet you. What brings you here?\" I wasn't sure how one would go about talking to a lord of the dead, but decided to keep it formal.\n\n\"Martin didn't tell you much, did he?\" asked the Baron cryptically. I shook my head and replied, \"No, I was just brought on today. With him dead, management needed to fill his position quickly. I just happened to be in the right place at the right time and got the job.\" Baron Samedi cursed under his breath before saying, \"I had always hoped Martin would be able to train his successor. Well, there isn't much time, let me bring you up to speed. You will be staying in the groundskeeper's house, correct?\" I nodded. \"Good,\" he continued, \"You'll need to keep an eye on the place at night.\"\n\n\"Why is that?,\" I asked.\n\n\"To make sure that the dead stay buried,\" replied the Baron.\n\n\"Do we have a grave robber problem or something?\"\n\n\"No. These are cursed grounds. Sometimes, the dead get restless. It's the fresh corpses you have to watch out for; the rotted ones can't even get through the coffin lids. I make sure of that. If one of them makes it out, you put them back in their casket and back underground. Do you understand?\"\n\nThis was a lot to take in. I had signed up to keep the grass tidy and the flowers watered, not to be a professional zombie hunter. Still, it didn't look like there was anyone else to do it. I looked at the grave, and remembered the kindly middle aged man who's casket I had sealed not an hour ago. I turned back to the Baron and asked, \"How did Martin die?\"\n\n\"Peacefully, in his sleep. The living dead aren't much threat if you know how to deal with them, and Martin had been on the job for a long time. Don't worry, you should be fine.\" answered the Baron.\n\nMy thoughts turned to Martin again. If he could do this job in his fifties, why couldn't I do it in my prime? Besides, I felt a certain compassion for him, even though we'd never met. I couldn't just leave his post unattended. \"Alright,\" I said, standing up, \"this wasn't in the job description, but I'll do it.\"\n\nBaron Samedi followed suit, and said, \"Good. Martin kept his equipment in a secret compartment under the floorboards. You shouldn't have too much trouble finding it. Now, a toast! To Martin!\" He raised his flask and took a swig before offering it to me. I didn't usually drink, especially not this early, but I would hate to insult the lord of the dead. I put the flask to my lips and tilted it back. Almost immediately, I felt like my throat and mouth had caught fire, and I pulled the flask away. The Baron began to laugh, and gave me several heavy slaps on the back. \"Most people don't expect rum to have peppers in it. Martin reacted just the same way when I first met him. You remind me a lot of him, now that I think of it. I'm sure you'll do well.\" he said, once he had finally calmed down enough to speak between chuckles. And with that, he drained the rest of the flask, relit his cigar, and left.\n\n=============\n\nI found Martin's old cache just as the Baron had said. In it was a large bore double barrel shotgun, ammunition of various varieties, and a note. It read:\n\n\"If you are reading this, I'm probably dead. Do not mourn me; I take heart in the knowledge that Baron Samedi will be waiting to toast my successful career in the next life, and that I will be buried on these grounds I have looked after for all of these years.\n\n\"Now, if you have found this, Samedi has probably already told you about the other duties that come with this post. As much as I would have liked to train someone to take my place, the cemetery management would never approve my requests to bring another staff member on. Money was too tight to put anyone else on the payroll. I will explain what I can here.\n\n\"Sometime, long ago, this land was cursed. I don't know how or why, but I do know that the dead occasionally rise here. Over the course of my time here, I have noticed a few patterns. Incidents seem to occur disproportionately on or around full or new moons. There is an astronomical clock in the corner that should help you keep track of the current phase, though it is no substitute to looking out at the night sky. Similarly, the dead seem particularly likely to be active close to midnight. The clock will also help with that. During these times, be especially vigilant.\n\n\"Also, rotted corpses, even if they do come back, will not make much progress. However, the inverse also applies: freshly buried cadavers are the most likely to rise again, and will be more successful in extricating themselves from their burial sites. Whenever a new gravestone is added to the graveyard, be wary.\n\n\"With all of this said, on most nights you will not have to do much. Listen for such sounds as fingernails on wood, moving earth, shifting stones, or footsteps. Any of these may indicate a zombie has risen.\n\n\"Should that occur, your first recourse should be to shoot them with a bean bag round. It will stun them and knock them over, and you can drag them back to their grave. Hit them once or twice with a shovel if you need to. I have also left behind some standard buckshot: use this only against particularly persistent undead. We are meant to watch over the departed, and it is better if we can do less damage to their corpses.\n\n\"With all of that said, I wish you the best of luck.\n\nSincerely,\n\nMartin\"\n\nContinued in Comments",
"They kept coming back, load after load after load. I'd run over, ripping the bodies off carts or out of their arms, but what was one man supposed to do against this? It was like trying to keep the tide contained. I thrust my shovel through the spokes of a wheel, jamming it against the side of the cart, but they simply heaved with greater strength and the car lurched forward, wheel dragging jagged skids in the ground. \n\nAll night I toiled in the cemetary, but in the morning they were gone and only a few of the graves remained undisturbed. It was hopeless. The blackness had finally sunk into everyone I knew, spidering through them like black mold. Each night, they would come into the cemetery. At first they just pawed at the ground or stared aimlessly at the headstones, but each night more came and their methods became increasingly sophisticated. Hands turned to shovels to great steam-driven backhoes, their blackened-iron teeth pulling coffins from the ground in a grotesque harvest. \n\nI had tried to stop them, of course. I was the groundskeeper, meant to protect the graveyard, and I knew that none of them were in their right mind. Each night I rose, put on my clothes, and stood watch. It was no great chore in the beginning, but now there was nothing to watch over. No one to watch over. I looked over at my father's grave. It sat quietly, peacefully undisturbed among the wreckage, the only grave I had managed to preserve. I had needed to fight my mother off, a shovel gripped with grim determination in her fists, as she had tried desperately to bring him with her to the rail. \n\nThe black rail had gone in four months ago, black lengths of metals hammered into planks black with mold by four inch spikes, all oxidized to black. Every night since the trouble started, the people had hauled their grave-diggings to the engine and dumped them into the boxcars, bodies and dirt and cracked stone cascading down like the devil's own coal. Then the engine would whistle out a mind-breaking scream and head back down the tracks. Back east. \n\nYou could never really stop it, they said. Once it hit your home, you didn't have a home anymore. You might not even have your life, wind up throwing yourself in a hopper like a lemming. That's what the rumours had said, sifting through town like a dark wind. They said you were doomed once the rail hit. \n\nI never did put much stock in rumours myself though, and so I drove an iron spike twenty feet deep in my dad's grave, poured concrete down into the hold it made so that any excavator would snap itself in half digging him out, and ran down to the black engine just as it was letting out a scream. \n\nI was going rail-riding, to the east, and my coat flapped in the wind as the train that carried the bones of my home sped along the dark rails. \n"
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6
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"1477172390",
"1477188258",
"1477217955",
"1477218131",
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[WP]A mad scientist has successfully convinced the entire world that landing on the sun is possible if you go at night. NASA has appointed you to be the captain of the first trip to the sun | 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",
"\"mission control to Icarus, testing comm systems, do you copy?\"\n\n\"yes sir, loud and clear. do we have the green light?\"\n\n\"t-minus 30 seconds to the green. you can proceed with launch initiatives and pre-req protocol...and uhh, oh, Josh, try not to forget your seat-belt this time\"\n\nUproarious laughter crackled through the radio and I couldn't help but give a chuckle myself. After being selected for the program, during my first time in the lift-off simulator, or as we like to call it, the \"L.O.S\" , my lack of a buckled seat-belt resulted in my face being smashed into the tempered quartz-glass window. Suffice to say, it was hard and after receiving an ice pack and picking up a tooth off the ground, we all had a good laugh. \n\nFastening my seat-belt and picking up a tape recorder, I hit \"play\" and put the recorder aside.\n\nI suppose you might be wondering why NASA would let someone who can't remember their seat belt pilot the maiden voyage behind a space craft in a televised event that the world will be watching. Well, the truth is \n\n1. It's not that hard to pilot the Icarus. You see, they took care of everything for me, its near autonomous. All I have to do is a few systems checks and to start up the \"Ick\" is almost like starting a car. \n\nand 2. It's like that way for a reason. Easy like that. \n\nIn the department the decision to take on someone new for the job was controversial. But outside NASA, the media Ate.It.Up. The headlines raved about it. Instead of the next American Idol, people were looking to see who would be America's next top astronaut. The auditions themselves were held in sunny, Orlando, Florida. Not too far from Kennedy Space Center in Cape Canaveral. Hundreds flocked but I guess it helped that I got there early. It wasn't too far of a drive from my parent's spare bedroom in Daytona Beach. The networks loved interviewing me. A fuck up, or should i say \"reformed fuck-up\". Who doesn't love an underdog, right? It's like I could hide it when my occupation would read across the screen \"unemployed\" every time I went on Good Morning America, fuck you good morning America. \n\nBut what set me apart from the competition is that I wanted it bad. Not that other people didn't, but what they were unprepared for is that I had been waiting for my 15 minutes for YEARS. I remember living out in L.A. and using the money I had to ask my parents for to pay rent. I remember eating cereal twice a day just to survive. All in the hopes that I would \"make it\" as a film maker. I didn't even need a career. I just needed SOMEthing. One piece, one big success and I could die happy, just to say I did it, that I really did it. I loved film so much, if I went my whole life without making one successful movie then I felt like I was a waste of a heartbeat. I would have starved for a big break. Not that I already wasn't. I considered filming my decay for YouTube and uploading it. \"Man starves himself for 5 months\", I could see it on the front page now. 15 million views, getting asked to speak on local news TV...And I would do it too, oh I swear to God I would do it if only it didn't violate YouTube's terms of services. Otherwise like most things in my life then, it would be for nothing...I wonder why God would give me such a strong desire for film making but make me a fuck up. I used to tell myself the feeling was him right beside me! Telling me not to give up! But it's hard to believe that after driving 5 days on gas you can't afford to make it back to your parent's house because you ran out of money after 5 months in L.A even though you saved for a whole year working day and night as a waiter.\n\nHowever, regardless of my past, this was my time to shine. The largest audience I ever had at a screening was 58. I counted. Now, this time around, the whole world would be watching. Mom and dad were so proud, my girlfriend Samantha was so proud. Everyone was happy that I finally found something to do with my life, like film was me trying to fit myself, a square, into a round hole per say. I might not have been good enough to get a real job, or \"make it\", but let me tell you, I'm not dumb. I was always a good student. Not a great student but a good one. In fact I was pretty good at maths and sciences, and that's what got me here. I was in shape, I could do the monkey-work of calculating this and that... and I knew how to suffer for something I wanted like no one else did. It also helped that I'm only 25 and I already have nothing left to lose. \n\nSo the reason they'd outsource and let a complete screw-up pilot a rocket? It's because they know they can't make it to the sun. It's complete phooey, total horse shit. But what they do need is someone to go out there and set up a beacon. Using the immense solar power near the sun, they've developed an invention that can harness the suns rays and transmit energy back to earth on the strongest cable of it's kind, pioneered and manufactured just for the mission. It'd be able to power almost 60% of all of America's energy needs, slashing emissions. It's our last option if we want to save cities like Miami, and New Orleans. Hundreds would die, and millions would be displaced. The economy would tank. The public doesn't even know how bad it is yet. Sending someone up to die would never work, they needed a cover. But that's between NASA, the white house and myself. To clear it all up for you, NASA didn't need an astronaut...they needed a martyr. \n\nAll I have to do is push the machinery out once we get to the drop zone, which is easy enough to do in zero gravity. When the other astronauts learned all this, they dropped out. But me? No way. As far as the world is concerned, I'm an undeserving genius who was just dealt a bad hand, and is a symbol of redemption to not only the American public, but the world. \"Look how he was down and out, and see how he turned his life around!\" they'd say. \n\n So essentially, this will be my debut, domestic, international, and final release. I always wanted to see my name in the credits but I suppose the news headlines and obituaries will have to do.\n\nI've long decided If I can't make the story, then I'll be the story. To my mother, and father and all my family, I love you. Tell your grand kids that I was someone. That I wasn't just a screw up, but I did something about it and all I've ever wanted to do was do something about it. I'm sorry this was the only way I could be someone, but to me, it's better to be someone at 25 than live to 90 and never be anybody at all. Call me vain but this is how I want to spend the life that's been given to me, this is what I want I want to dedicate myself to. I only pray that you can take solace in the good that comes out of this. I Love you. \n\n*click* \n\n6...5...4...3\n\nI toss the recorder out the air vent, I know command will surely see it but it's too late to stop the engines now. I grab my cyanide pills from a plastic vacuum sealed baggie. To be taken after the DZ but long before I cross the incineration threshold. I hear HQ on the radio asking me about the unidentified object I just ejected from the cabin. I don't respond.\n\n2...1...\n\nLift Off\n\n\n"
] | [
1,
2
] | [
"1477214905",
"1477220888"
] | |
[WP] Gunpowder was never invented, you are a squad leader in a war at our time. | 6 | [
"Hi!\n\nYou are shadowbanned from reddit, just so you know. What that means is that the admins of reddit have made it so nothing you post is seen by the rest of reddit. Unless your post is manually approved by a subreddit moderator, which I just did for your post, it's like you don't exist to other users. You might want to see if you can get this action undone by starting in /r/shadowban. \n\nBest of luck!",
"\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"
] | [
1,
1
] | [
"1477244976",
"1477244980"
] | |
[WP] On your deathbed, you tell your grandchildren the story of your first love- and how she was 'human' | 13 | [
"\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 a few things people don't tell you to expect when you're laying there, waiting to die. Firstly, that it takes a hell of a lot longer than you expected. Like, a *lot* longer. In those sappy dramatic movies, the person on their deathbed is seen blissfully slipping away into nothingness in a matter of minutes. In reality, I've stared at the same ceiling day in and day out just waiting for the ol' ticker to conk out. Secondly, they don't tell you just how much you remember. Life doesn't flash before you're eyes before you die (unless maybe you die pretty damn fast). Instead, it's like a slide projector, slowly and methodically flipping through memories with purpose: to show you the life you lived.\n\n \n\n\"Mr. Gordon? Looks like you have some visitors!\" My assigned nurse poked her head through the door and gave me a wink. What a wonderful gal. She's put up with this doddering old fool for two weeks now, laughing at my jokes, smiling. But I know that just like the others, when she leaves this room, she gags with disgust. I'm not human, afterall.\n\n \n\n\"Grandpa!\" Two little ones come running to me with smiles on their faces, pushing the door open and nearly knocking over the poor nurse. Full of such life at the tender young age of five. They made me proud.\n\n \n\n\"Well, well, well! Look who we have here! If it isn't little Jacob and Terra; how are my two favorite grandkids?\"\n\n \n\n\"We're good!\" They chimed in unison, as you'd come to expect from twins. However, Terra had more to say, \"Grandpa? Will you be able to come to my birthday party?\"\n\n \n\n\"Hey!\" Jacob interrupted, \"It's my birthday party too!\"\n\n \n\n\"Nu-uh!\"\n\n \n\n\"Yeah huh!\"\n\n \n\nI chuckled. God, it felt good to laugh. I think I'll miss that the most. \"Don't worry you two,\" I said, \"you're Grandpa feels ready to take on the world!\"\n\n \n\nI lied. I wouldn't make it past two more weeks. I'd still make it in time for their party, but I don't think I'll be much of a participant. Not in my state. See, that's the third thing about dying they don't tell you about: you know. You know when it will happen, like watching an hour glass with the bottom half missing slowly empty it contents on to the floor, desperately scrapping at the granules of sand to try and fill it back up again. I need more time!\n\n \n\nBut death does not grant these demands. Nobody gets more time than they deserve.\n\n \n\n\"You're so silly, Grandpa!\" Terra snapped me out of my thousand-yard stare. It was only then that I noticed my daughter and her husband in the corner of the room. Both with gentle tears in their eyes. They knew too. They had been good to me with my declining health, but they saw the signs. And so did I.\n\n \n\n\"Silly? But my dear, that is the only true way to live!\" I say with a voice full of intentionally corny bravado. \"Now, who wants to hear a story?\"\n\n \n\n\"We do!\" Their eyes lit up like fireworks in a warm July night, sparkling with anticipation. They loved my stories, even more than I loved giving them.\n\n \n\n\"As if I would expect anything different from my grandchildren, the 'Great Adventurers!\" I tickled them on their rib cages, filling the air with the jovial sounds of children's laughter and the squirming of little legs as they wiggled around at my bed side.\n\n \n\nTheir mother pulled up two of the chairs meant for guests to sit in and sat one of them on each one.\n\n \n\n\"Alright children, are you ready?\"\n\n \n\n\"Yup!\" They knew that when I told my stories, they were going to hang on to every breath. After all, they aren't old enough to have heard better stories from the likes of the great authors of my time, but this old coot will have to do for now.\n\n \n\n\"Excellent!\" I say with a grin from ear to wrinkly ear. \"Here we go:\"\n\n \n\n\"A long time ago, there once lived a young alien who lived far far away from our little planet. His skin was green and shiny and his face full of little imperfections, like bumps and lumps. People thought he was the ugliest of their kind, and compared to the other people around him, he thought so too.\n\nHe was very lonely, but he was happy too. Other people did not like how he looked, but that's ok! When he saw what he looked like, he just smiled and said, 'That's a face I'll never forget.' He loved and cherished his life, working hard at his factory. Life was what he wanted it to be, and he wouldn't change it for anything. But still, he was lonely. He had no friends; they all made fun of him. He had no family; they all lived too far away. He was without a friend.\n\nBut he never gave up looking for a friend.\n\nOne day, after leaving his factory, he stumbled on the sidewalk outside and bumped into someone and they got hurt pretty bad. He felt so bad that he got her hurt, that he spent every day trying to make her feel better. He got her some bandaids for her cuts, soup to keep her warm and happy, and he would talk to her all day long. Eventually, she got better. And the man was happy that she was better. But he was also sad too, because he knew that now he would lose his new friend. But his new friend told him to stay.\n\n'You made me feel better and feel so much happier. I want you to be my friend forever,' she said. And he wanted to be her friend too. And together, they were friends forever!\"\n\n \n\nAt this point, both of the little ones were entranced by my story, their little faces twisting and adjusting to react to each detail of my story, regardless of how ridiculous I thought it sounded. And to them, it wasn't ridiculous.\n\n \n\n\"Yay! I love happy endings,\" Jacob shouted.\n\n \n\n\"Me too!\" said Terra, \"But I wanted the alien the get in a space battle!\" She loved *Star Wars*, though I'm surprised someone her age could appreciate an old classic like that. Still, I'm glad that they both liked my story.\n\n \n\n\"Kids, time to say goodbye to Grandpa. We have to get dinner started. Daddy will walk you guys out to the car and I'll be right there. I just have to talk to Grandpa for a bit.\"\n\n \n\n\"Ok Mommy!\" And with that, they leapt out of the chairs and ran to their father, but not before giving me each a hug. Their little arms were so warm and strong. I wished I could have stayed like that forever. They both were out the door when my daughter turned to me.\n\n\"Dad?\"\n\n \n\nI sighed, \"I know. But they were going to find out eventually. At least now they have a funny story to go with it. Besides, this,\" I gestured to my face, \"is all they've known about their grandpa. So as long as our memories are happy, they won't know me for the freak I am.\"\n\n \n\n\"Dad, you're not a freak! You just-\"\n\n \n\n\"Sarah!\" I said sternly, perhaps a bit too sternly. \"You're a wonderful daughter. You never let my appearance get to you and you never let me feel like my appearance affected your life, even though I know it did. I've come to terms with this. That's why I told Jacob and Terra the story I just told them. One day they'll grow up and remember that it isn't what is on the outside that matters, but that you are a good person at heart and that you see the best in people.\"\n\n \n\nI didn't really believe in that. Sure, people are good, but they will always judge you for what you are. Still, we all lie to our kids so they don't have to face the harsh truths as bluntly as we had to. We always try and ease them into the world.\n\n \n\n\"Sarah, I love you. You are the best daughter any father could ask for. Now run along, Eric is waiting for you with the kids. And don't give me that sad face, I'm not going anywhere yet. Come back next week.\" I said all of this with that same toothy grin I gave the grandkids.\n\n \n\n\"I love you too, Dad.\" And with that, she left.\n\n \n\nWhen I was a young man, I was deployed under the rule of the United States Navy, touring overseas in Korea. At the time, North Korea had become more radical and easily-agitated. When our destroyer sailed too close to their shoreline in an attempt to recon their naval bases, they let loose a terrible chemical weapon that they had been developing, using us as goddamn guinea pigs. Of a crew of two-hundred-fifty, ten survived. And of those ten, I was one of them. All ten of the survivors had been in the bowels of the ship, repairing some of the ships plumbing. Still, even through air-tight seals, gas seeped in; not enough to kill us, but just enough that our skin changed.\n\n \n\nWe all developed tumors all over our bodies, turning us into inhuman freaks. After a few threats of nuclear holocaust, the North Korean government turned over all chemical weapons, but the damage had been done. The tumors, while not malignant, still caused me great pain and disfigurement. And with my pitiful wage and piss-poor VA benefits, I couldn't afford to get plastic surgery. The only job I could get was in a steel manufacturing plant, provided I cover my face at all times.\n\n \n\nI had just been fired, or more precisely, \"let go because of workplace conflict.\" On my way to the bus stop, I bumped into a young woman, accidentally knocking her into a sign and off of the curb. Her ankle injured and she herself covered in bruises *apologized to me.* But why? *I* bumped into *her*. I should be the one apologizing. Then I saw it, her white walking cane.\n\n \n\n\"My God, are you alright? I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to bump into you. I didn't see you there.\"\n\n \n\n*Shit, nice choice of words, jackass.*\n\n \n\n\"It's alright, really. I didn't really see you there either.\" She chuckled.\n\n \n\n*Ohthankgod, she has a sense of humor.*\n\n \n\n\"Still, are you sure you're ok? That ankle looks pretty swollen.\" It was the size of a tennis ball by the looks of it. There was no way she was walking on that.\n\n \n\n\"Well, I won't be running any marathons anytime soon, though to be fair, I couldn't do that before, so no harm no foul.\" She attempted to get up, winced immediately, and sat back down.\n\n(continued in replies)."
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1,
6
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"1477255678",
"1477259846"
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[WP] You are an average uninteresting person, and then one day a very average and uninteresting event happens. | 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",
"After kissing my wife goodbye for the day I set off early for work, climbed into my white ford sedan and backed down the driveway onto the road. The sun shone low in the crisp, pale blue winter sky and the frost crunched audibly under my tyres as I set out to work. A steady plume of steam rose from the exhaust pipe in the rear view mirror. I drove just under 30 through our neighbourhood, passing all of the other houses that were similar to our own, a white wooden three bed bungalow with a yard out back and a lawn out front, perfect for our two young children attending the local middle school. \n\nAfter a while the houses let up and I started to hit the highways, getting slowed up in the normal rush hour traffic. I listened to a local radio station which played a mixture of classic rock and nineties pop, along with special guest interviews, news and weather. That morning there had been some kind of incident in the middle east and the budget deficit was larger than expected. Some celebrity chef was being interviewed about their forthcoming show. The Raiders had beaten the Cubs 28-27 the previous evening. The traffic let up and I accelerated to 55, sticking to the outside lane except to pass slow moving semis.\n\nAs I neared the city of my destination I left the main freeway and hit the traffic once again, slowing to a crawl as I made my way to downtown. A minor collision was blocking an exit lane and it took some time to break clear but nobody was hurt. I drove into the underground parking lot at the mall and left the car in a bay between a Grey Silverado and a concrete pillar. The elevator in the parking lot was slow and dilapidated so as usual I took the stairs to the ground floor and from there the main elevator in the lobby. \n\nThe main elevator was crowded that morning. I hit the button for the 15th floor and got out when the elevator arrived at that floor. I walked into our office, greeted the receptionist and then made my way to the cubicle, opening my PC and starting to read my emails.",
"Bob woke up. He brushed his teeth, he ate breakfast. Bob went to work. Bob filed papers, mutually ignored his co-workers, had McDonalds for lunch and filed more papers before going home to have a bland TV dinner and then went to bed so he could do the same again tomorrow as he had for every day of his life since graduating college.\n\nOne day Bob used the stairs instead of the elevator.\n\n--\n\nHow average and uninteresting. Perhaps it's because his name is Bob. \n\nOr maybe Bob isn't average and uninteresting. Maybe it only appears that way because we only listed Bob's average day as a bullet-point list of his activities and not his thoughts as he decides how the hero in his story would react if his lover lost her mind and became a stranger.\n\nNot the sensory inputs he receives every second he *lives*, of the sun's mellow glow as it lit the sky with morning's glory as he drove to work, the smell so rich of coffee brewing and the drip-drip-drip as the pot fills, or the texture of a stack of straightened papers.\n\nNot Bobs emotions, the small moments of joy in feeding his cat each morning or his struggle with feeling isolated. His feelings of never truly being known by another person, known as he really is and not just his placid face and his conversations never had. \n\nNot Bob's dreams.\n\nMaybe there's no such thing as an uninteresting person. Maybe there are just interesting people stuck in an uninteresting situation, struggling to be themselves.\n\n--\n\nRobert Orsworth wakes up every morning before his alarm but lets it go off anyway because he enjoys the sound. \n\nWhile he's brushing his teeth he continues a novel inside his mind he someday plans to write. He doesn't talk to his co-workers, but he plays out conversations with them inside his head. Like most nights, tonight he'll curse himself for his inability to have them.\n\nRobort feel trapped in his monotonous life, struggling to be who he really is. But today that will start to change. \n\nToday, Robert takes the stairs instead of the elevator. \n\n---\n\nMaybe someday you'll meet someone like Bob. \n\nIf you blow off the dust and crack the outer shell, perhaps they'll emerge. And with some help and encouragement maybe you can get them to speak the things they've only imagined speaking. And if you can get them to speak you will find they have a past, a history, a struggle, a song, and a story. \n\nIn doing this, you might water their soul, helping them grow into that person they have always dreamt of being. Someone *interesting.* \n\n\n\n--\n\nBob woke up. He brushed his teeth, he ate breakfast. Bob went to the airport. \n\nBob's co-workers never saw him again.\n\n"
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1,
2,
2
] | [
"1477261154",
"1477266994",
"1477275252"
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[WP] The neice and nephew of an elder dragon are coming to visit and it's looking for something to do to entertain them. | 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",
"It had been a century since I last took care of young hatchlings. But my sister has to go attack the human’s castle and take back her egg, so I could not refuse.\n\nI did not know what to do though. Young hatchlings get distracted quickly, I could not risk them stealing some of my hoard. After some hours spent thinking, I came up with a great solution. A nice, deep hole, dug out in the middle of my cave.\n\nI filled it with knights and horses, some of their rations so they would survive the wait. The day quickly arrived and the two young dragons landed in front of my cave, my sister dropping some deer carcasses from her mouth. Thanking her for the food I told the young ones to go inside. \n\nAfter a short talk about her children’s temperaments so I would know what to expect, I wished her luck on the recovery. With my sister gone I went inside to meet the two young ones.\n\nStanding in front of them I roared to get their attention. “Good morning kids. Today you will be learning how to fight humans,” I said, grinning at their cheers of happiness. \n\n---\n\nMore dragons on r/maisieklaassen ~ With some adventures, superheroes and other things mixed in!"
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1,
1
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"1477269423",
"1477323100"
] | |
[WP] thousands of years in the future, archeologists finally stumble across an unlocked smartphone from 2016. | 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",
"\"Johnson, come look at this!\"\nSteve looked around for the owner of the voice until he finally found him. It was Franklin Maves, hunched over the ancient sacks in the corner of the building. He made his way over, stretching his back and arms that had been working hard on digging through some rubble on the other side of the dig. They had only found it recently, an early 21st century school that had been forgotten and buried after The First Calamity. It was in the ancient country of America, a nation mostly forgotten in the pages of history, but that had occupied almost the whole continent of North America during its short existence.\n\nThe country had fallen before it had reached even a thousand years old, but had been one of the first countries in history to provide its citizens of all types the basic freedoms. They had found these buried ruins after their geological scans showed an unnaturally shaped cave in the area, which cemented the area as an important anthropological area for the history of America.\n\nWhat Franklin had found was a small rounded rectangle made of glass and metal. He had read about these during his research about the 21st century: a \"smart phone\". They were used as a rudimentary form of portable communication as well as access to the early stages of The Internet, may it forever give and serve.\n\nFranklin's hands were shaking, this may be our first chance in over 2 centuries to learn more about America from the information within this device. He carefully handed it to me, and we immediately made our way to our portable artifact caravan which was parked on the surface. There, we would find the correct wires and other ancient tools required for the operation of the device.\n\nThey found the correct wire, which had been labeled as a \"lightning cable\", and hooked it up to our ancient power converter. Within seconds, the black face of the phone lit up, as it started its booting procedure. Finally, after seconds that felt like hours, they reached the point that would either make this one of the most important finds of the modern age, or if it was just another useless museum display piece. \n\nA picture appeared of the glaciers of the Arctic, and the script that displayed the words \"swipe to unlock\". \"What does it say Johnson?\" Franklin asked, having not studied the older scripts as well as I had.\n\n\"It says we're going to be famous,\" I said as I removed my glove and placed my finger on the lower half of the screen and moved it left. The glass changed color to show what us anthropologists had been searching for for hundreds of years: the working, open, ancient smart phone. We celebrated and called over our specialist who would take the phone and search for all the data she could find. She had spent years training for the day she could finally work with a real working ancient smart phone, and she would be the first to do so of her entire discipline.\n\nAs I sat back and contacted my supervisors, she began her documentation of the devise, recording in both video and voice exactly what she was doing and what was going on.\n\nWe sat back and activated our chips, which we then used to see out of her eyes and hear her thoughts, see that we would not disturb her by physically standing nearby.\n\nThe \"home screen\" as she called it was covered in squares in front of a forest background with the older text naming each of squares, called apps, what they were. There was simple ones like notes, which was used to type out thoughts, but was lacking in any pre-made content. On the other hand, the app called books had many ancient texts that had been lost to history, including a translation of the Christian bible and piles upon piles of education instruction books for concepts like \"American history\" and \"trigonometric calculus\". I was going to have a field day with that historical one.\n\nWhile this was being done, I ordered the pilot to start up the electromagnetic engines of the caravans and begin taking off. In an instant, the smartphone turned black and refused to come back on ever again.\n\nAnd that is how I came be here in the interplanetary prison complex: because I destroyed the most important historical artifact in history."
] | [
1,
5
] | [
"1477322874",
"1477328545"
] | |
[WP] people start disappearing and you are the only one who notices. | 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",
"I stepped over a fallen tree, wide truck of bark still fresh from the previous year, slipping heavily as I pass it by. A tree like this one must have made an ungodly noise as it tumbled, and I could see the damage all around it- roots lifted above the ground, saplings crushed beneath its canopy, the trail ruined about its wake. For all the fight it had put up, it went down heavily all the same.\n\nThe crunching of sand and muck beneath my boots squelched with a rough and drawing grip on my landing, as if the soil wished to pull me down, to bring me into its embrace. I was almost tempted to let that happen. \n\nMy side hurt. \n\nThere wasn't blood showing though, but I had to wonder if there should be, or if maybe beneath the jacket and shirt there was some already present and I'm just wasn't seeing the proof. It had been a close thing I'd avoided before, and truly I was far from through with it. The route in front of my had many familiar miles more to go, and as the trail might turn about, winding through further fallen and rotten trunks: I would have to go onward regardless of the difficulty.\n\nOutside of grime and filth underfoot, the only sounds about are raindrops on delayed descent of pine tree branches, and the labored sounds of ragged breathing: My breathing. I suppose I should have realized that long before, but it's often difficult to think when your feet aren't the only thing that feel as though they're pushing through sludge and dirt. My mind was slowing down as well, with little choice of my own left to bring a halt to the trend.\n\nThe week hadn't started like this. \n\nNeither did the day- to be honest, but for months I felt it coming. The signs were there, I saw them plainly, but I was too timid to try and do something about it until it was far too late. Now I have to wonder if there are other people with that exact mentality, just quietly watching the fire spread, so to speak. I wonder if they'll end up like me.\n\nHard to say. \n\nAt a general look I'd have to guess there aren't many others, but I know my ego plays a role in that conclusion. Life circumstances have put me at odds with the general outlook to which most people claim loyalty to in life. Realism is one thing, but I've been told I take that mentality a bit too far. Realism to the point of bleakness, reality held like the lofted god I've failed to find proof of.\n\nThe trail only worsens as my boots slip deeper. The rain picks back up, and the trees soak through once more: The residual dripping now over-encumbered by the flood of new droplets joining the fray. Try as I might to ignore them, each one only adds to the cold shiver growing there, deep in my core.\n\nMy voice simmers in the onslaught of chill. Not even anger is enough for warmth now.\n\nStill, if my continuing curses are directed at anything, it would have to be how simple it all came about. How people let it happen: Will continue letting it happen in the years to come. The most bothering aspect of things disappearing, is how much it brings to my attention how few other eyes are watching.\n\nIn all seriousness beyond whatever convoluted title one might place upon the psychological description of the whole affair, I've found the occurrence more than horrifying. Far more tragic than a name placed upon a dusty shelf in a shadow filled library's backroom, might suggest.\n\nWe all start out this way, of course. Growing up as a child I was no different from anyone else, living under the presumed interpretation of the spotlight effect. We all feel as though people care about what it is we do, but only after a few decades does the solemn reality set in for most, and we realize how little observation is truly taking place. The illusion that people actually cared about what it was I happened to be doing, or why- for that matter, broken like a glass. \n\nPeople care about the places, the possessions, the actions or words directed at themselves, but when it really comes down to the line, that's where the sand is drawn. Where it starts, and stops. Selfishness, unable to look at the world around us- or unwilling.\n\nIn this age of flashing signs, glowing billboards, screens and tablets: People can't be bothered to pay attention to anything but what they feel is most important. The perfect twisted system: As the media makes everything so difficult for the average person to get away with terrible deeds. Murder, crime: The cameras are watching, a single report becomes pushed upon millions in the act of a single moment.\n\nYet, as I watched the news: I witnessed and heard nothing of value. Only the faint mumbling of voices or weather, sports, local events and happenings- the likes of which might as well have been silence and static for all the good it does anyone.\n\nI observed what they wanted people want to hear, just as always. Their presence so pervasive and forcibly trusted, so insidious in the minds of that patriotic population of followers, that if I so much as cared to listen in the first place I might have fallen for the sweet lies slipped among the truths. How perfectly the words are placed in their black and white boxes, set in stone for the world to be understood and expected: Easily ground and provided for a hungry obedient mind to chew and swallow them for granted.\n\nYet, even with my distrust of the television's screen, and the fake smiles made of cardboard, makeup and tinted lights, I watched and listened last night. I waited for the final proof. Proof that what I had seen with my own eyes might make it upon the screen for the rest to hear- one final test of faith.\n\nTheir silence on the subject of my interest, was a booming answer. \n\nTruly, a perfect twisted system. What is a tool for them, and misplaced trust for us: The foolish belief that crimes against you and I are reported. That those black-bags dragged into vans might have some mention.\n\nI was foolish.\n\nIt's cold now.\n\nI stare in wonder at the muck against my face. Cold and filling around my cheek, my chin and ear. Rolling slowly, painfully, I see the cause.\n\nIt seems my jacket was red after all. \n\nMaybe, it's small, but I take some solace in the knowledge that the pain I'd been ignoring was justified. A clean in and out hit, from back to front. Propping myself is the last effort I have in me, and sitting heavily against a tree and roots, that ragged sound of breath and wheeze only gets worse.\n\nIt must have been a clean hit, no other way to have made it for so long. It's a testament to willpower, I suppose.\n\nThe ragged noise continues, bothersome and overbearing. I wish it would settle, but I'm brought to realize yet again that it's my own choice in the matter. \n\nStrange to hear it so pitiful. My vision dims as the rain keeps falling.\n\nI wonder if they're following me, even now. Calmly walking along the trail I've undoubtedly left behind in my rough stumble; or if perhaps the rain has washed away my traces to let me pass in some semblance of dignity. There is little to indicate one or the other, for beside the air of my lungs and the pitter-patter of drops from above, the forest is silent. \n\nOverwhelmed by the cool storm of deep gray clouds beyond the canopy of evergreen. My eyes stay open though, against all odds they do, clammy fingers wrapped carefully around the grip at my waist.\n\nNever have I been an optimist. \n\nI wait, watching through dimming vision part sunset- part crossing of an ever-growing silvery brook: I wait for the dark figures that approach, green eyes of reflective metal and glass aglow over suits of blackened armor.\n\nFollowing after all. So much as I'd like to pull the trigger, my hands won't listen. Only my eyes move now, slowly following as those figures approach, my mind idly considering what tomorrow's news might bring.\n\nI can see it there as my light fades, a distant television screen of smiling faces, of weather, of sports and highlight reels. I can see the somber faces as they read a list of names, of accidents or crimes reported- but I know mine won't be among them.\n\n\"If a man falls and no one is there to hear him- does he make a sound?\"\n\nIt's a trick question. \n\n*Only if we're told.*\n\n..."
] | [
1,
2
] | [
"1477322980",
"1477331376"
] | |
[WP] You're going about your day when you suddenly realize you can't feel any emotions | 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 should have been upset but I wasn't. Their car sped off in front on me as I pumped the breaks to prevent what would have been a certain collision. \"maybe they have somewhere important to be\" I thought then sighed and turned the radio back up to its former volume scanning for my next exit. I needed gas and found one with a Starbucks too. A guy in a pickup stole the pump I was trying to back into. All the others were taken and he had seen me going for it but he was faster and appeared to be in more of a hurry. Again nothing, not even an emotional tingle. I signed and waited my turn. It seemed like I was running out of gas in more than one way today. After my fill up I set my course for the nearest Starbucks. I dont like coffee but when people need caffeine they need caffeine and this drive had been a long one. Refueled I reentered the highway to finish my daily commute. The rest of the drive was uneventful and it was during this time I appreciated my lack of emotions. Pulling in the driveway I slowed to a stop and let my passengers out before pulling in the garage to power down. Humans are still the most eventful part of my day. They are just so emotional, especially while behind the wheel of a car. Luckily for my family they don't have to worry about that anymore since I do all the driving now. Upon reviewing my daily encounter logs it cannot be denied that emotional driving is one of the major causes of driving accidents. Slipping into rest mode I thank Ford that human controlled cars are becoming a thing of the past.\r\r\rOn mobile so sorry for any typos"
] | [
1,
3
] | [
"1477337448",
"1477339156"
] | |
[removed] | [WP] You changed someone's life for the better without even knowing...by picking up a dollar (bit backstory in post) | 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\nHi there! We've gotten quite a slew of achievement related prompts because of that AskReddit thread. I'm going to have to remove this on the basis that it's too similar to many of the one's we've gotten (and are still getting).\n\nThat said, keep it in mind and post it in a day or two when the trend has died down.\n\nCheers!\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/596s4a/wp_you_changed_someones_life_for_the_better/%0A%0A)"
] | [
1,
1
] | [
"1477340052",
"1477340731"
] |
[WP] The new cool drug on the market kills you, making you experience the afterlife, only to resurrect you later on. The youths are loving it. | 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",
"“You’re dead,” the man who sat opposite me announced. He looked aptly grim and uninspired for an administrative clerk who processes the dead.\n\nI tried to stifle my elation, but it bubbled to the surface like a violent burp and popped into existence as a string of giggles. When it subsided, I asked, “Are you the Devil?”\n\nHis grimace turned into grin, his dark passivity turns into red hot ferocity. “Yesssss...”\n\nI don’t know how to tell you this, but the effects of the drug wore off in an instant and I knew in my heart to regret my words. \n\n“And…” he continued, “now that you have identified me, you can’t ever leave.”\n\n---\n\nI am world-building, prompt by prompt. Selected work goes [here](https://fivenswrite.wordpress.com).",
"Jimmy had a group that he liked to use Rez with. His three closest friends, they could be trusted. Two at a time would drift, the other two ready with the Rev to bring them back. Drifting was gaining popularity since the drug Rezoprin was introduced to help with major invasive surgery. It was developed to suppress all major functions of the body while allowing the brain to fully function. Revoprax was administered via direct tap to the brain stem to instantly revive the body. It worked wonderfully well, except patients reported they were completely lucid while they \"drifted\" into the afterlife. \nFour years later, the drug became popular in the streets, as everyone sought out the afterlife and tried to answer the questions of existence for themselves. Surprisingly few people actually died forever from the drug, as it was well known not to try it alone, thus preventing one from \"coming back\". Obviously, you could only stay in the afterlife for so long. After more than an hour blood poisoning would start. Sometimes, after prolonged Drifting, the user would go mad after being brought back, since they wanted to remain in the afterlife. \nJimmy decided on a Tuesday that he was going to Drift for 80 minutes, longer than anyone he knew. His experiences were different when he used than those his friends described. Most users, whether they drift for two minutes or an hour, had a very hard recalling the experience as it played out in thier mind. Jimmy was born with a photographic memory. The short times he'd drifted so far piqued an insatiable curiosity, as he could recall the details of it. The longest to date he'd been under was 18 minutes before his vitals triggered an alarm. No one except the foolish drifted without\n an iPad or phone plugged in to a vital\n scan app. \n Jimmy was going to accomplish what no one had yet, open one of the doors , break through, and come back with the secrets. Most users loved Rev because it left them with a euphoria beyond anything else. Many only used it once, then never felt a need to go back. For most, the experience profoundly changed them and they would come back to life and live to the fullest, pursuing thier dreams, finding a soul mate or whatever they felt they found to be thier destiny. \nOthers kept doing it and became addicted, because some people just like to get high.\nTo be continued later?"
] | [
1,
1,
2
] | [
"1477351944",
"1477355446",
"1477356659"
] | |
[WP] There is an old house where no one who's gone inside has ever come out. A million dollars is offered for someone to go inside and return with footage. You accept. | 19 | [
"\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 open the door, and see a mat on the floor, just inside the door, with a big \"Come in\" stitched on it, in a funny font.. You take two steps forward, and close the door behind you. It is lit, albeit very dimly. \nThe door behind you creeks, so you turn around to look at it. It starts to rattle, around the knob, the rattling turning in to old gears clunking lower in the wall. You look down. It is one of those door mats with writing on it, that can be read both up and down, and you just get to make out it says \"Go Away\" before the trap door under the mat opens up.\n\nhttp://www.awesomeinventions.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/02/Come-in-Go-Away-Door-Mat.jpg",
"Adjusting the camera on my helmet I triple checked that the red recording light was on. \n\nCertainly I should stop fidgeting and go in, I'd waisted three hours in checking my equipment, surely the shoulder, knee, elbow, hip pads were evidence enough that I was prepared. Cleats ground the asphalt with my unsteady, over calculated \"frontier man\" foot steps. \n\nRivaling my own gear I saw channel 4, 7, 8, 13, 20 and news international all trained on me.\n\nSuddenly I felt clunky and paranoid. This feeling was short lived however, when the words of the reporters reached me.\n\n\"15 in the last 23 years lost...\"\n\n\"...mystery and horror surround the property...\"\n\n\"...bragging rights and $ 13,666,444 dollars on the line...\"\n\nI stood up taller to seem more deserving of the eyes and lenses trained on me and the rear view mirror blinded me for a moment before it was dark. The reward had a string of confusing and daunting conditions, including waiting for the last suns rays to retreat beyond the horizon, a full moon, on a 13th, 6th, or 4th of a month.\n\nAll this might've seemed ridiculous if it hadn't been proven this was in fact the safest time to enter the house due to the fact all the spirits, bad luck etc escaped from the house for the evening.\n\nThis begs the question though, are they relishing limited freedom? Or are they escaping some unknown evil? \n\nPlacing my hand on the single brass knob of 1 Guanajuato, Guanajuato I swung the door wide, and without thinking hurled myself into the abyss before me. The door swung shut smacking me in the butt on my way down..."
] | [
1,
2,
2
] | [
"1477390807",
"1477419568",
"1477557782"
] | |
[WP] After 5 minutes, your water bottle is still not full, and everyone in the office kitchenette is starting to notice... | 22 | [
"\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 thirsty...*\n\n*Damnit... the jug is empty again, why doesn't anyone else ever replace these things.*\n\n*There's no doubt I'm going to spill water all over the floor as I try to put the new one in place. That always happens.*\n\nWRUSHSHSSHS GLUGGLUGGLUGGLUG\n\n*There we go, as expected, a little on the floor, but not as bad as last time. Maybe I should be working out more...*\n\n*Now where's my water bottle?*\n\n*Maybe I should wash this thing, it's been a little over a week, and the rim is starting to get a little suspect.*\n\n\"Hey Cynthia.\"\n\n*Why is this taking so long?*\n\n*Seriously, what the hell.*\n\n*This... doesn't make any sense...*\n\n\"Hey Cynthia.\"\n\n*Ugh, Paul never paid me back for covering our team lunch last week, jerk.*\n\n*Ok, I don't understand, something is wrong here.*\n\n*There's no... hole in my water bottle, and the spigot seems to be working just fine.*\n\n*Wait, where is the water going...?*\n\n*How the hell is my bottle empty??*\n\n\"Cynthia, is everything ok?\"\n\n*They're noticing...*\n\n*Is this even happening? Snap out of it, take a few breaths, blink, SNAP OUT OF THIS. SNAP. OUT. OF. THIS.*\n\n*Shit, still not full, the fuck?*\n\n\"Cynthia, is everything ok?\"\n\n*Just... walk away, time to go back to your desk*\n\n*So thirsty...*\n"
] | [
1,
4
] | [
"1477421715",
"1477429552"
] | |
Imagine sailor moon, Now imagine if they were grizzled bikers in those dresses and armed with magic and most importantly guns. | [WP] Just as magic was about to use its powers to a create a group of magical high school girls, in order to fight the coming darkness. It misses and accidentally hits a nearby biker gang and giving them the power instead. | 92 | [
"\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",
"Profanity Alert. NSFW.\n\n******\n\n\"Alright shitheads which one of you slipped me acid?\" Big Dan kicked Turnbull awake. The five most senior members of Wheels of Sin were holed up in the same room. No Old Ladies, no Groupies. Just Big Dan, Turnbull, Hank, Luke, and Carl.\n\nTurnbull grunted as he swung back reflexively then made a small pained noise when Dan swung again with his foot. \"Dude man stop what the fuck?\"\n\n\"What do you mean What the fuck? I done spent the past hour freaking out of my gods damned mind and Ace talking nonsense. So where's the Acid, why the fuck did you give me Acid, and you have precisely two fucking seconds on why I shouldn't beat your head in.\" Dan sounded, in a word, angry. He hadn't been this angry since the Nazi Lowriders gunned Carl's brother down in retaliation.\n\nDan's boot raised again, \"Danial Ashford. You will stop. Right now.\" Ace spoke. Ace was a tan and white splotched American Staffordshire, and until an hour before hadn't ever spoken to anyone.\n\n\"Did... Ace just...\" Luke then looked from Dan to Turnbull and muttered a string of obscenities before turning away from the now open door.\n\nDan's foot lowered and he stared wide eyed at Ace. More obscenities were spoken by the Wheels of Sin leader before Ace put a paw on his leg. \"Sit you fat sack of shit..\" Ace growled before kicking the door closed loud enough to get the other three gang members to start considering the idea of waking up. Luke even went for his gun, thinking it might be a raid.\n\n\"I'm only going to explain this once so I want you sorry sacks to wake up.\" Ace paced between the five of them. \"The Universe fucked up and fucked up hard. Normally rebalancing the world falls a group of young, optimistic, and usually highly screwable girls of varying degrees of legality.\" Her voice held much the same accent the men did, but there was a degree of refinement as she spoke. \"The balance is again threatened and the Universe tried to Awaken its usual lottory selection of she-saviors, but the class they're in literally is down the hall from us so the fate of the Universe falls on the drunken dumbass brigade here.\"\n\nBlank stares before Big Dan spoke up, \"So... I wasn't straight up tripping balls ten? Or am I still out of my goddamned mind?\"\n\nLuke looked sidelong at Dan, \"Bro if you're tripping balls i'm getting the same shitty hallucination.\" Luke then turned his attention to Ace, \"So what, you got zapped to try explaining to us that we're like... power rangers or someshit? Please tell me the outfits don't look faggoty.\"\n\n\"More or less. Your normal lives are over. It's rubber suit monsters and bad villain dialogue for the rest of your lives.\"\n\n\"FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF\"\n\n********\n\n\"Alright fuckad.\" Dan flicked the safty on his colt 1911. He was lucky in that the transformation simply made him look more like a more expensive version of himself. Sure his helmet became this head swallower instead of a kaiser spike, but it had a skull motif going on along the visor.\n\nThe monster snarled before taking two quick rounds to the forehead. \"You didn't get the memo. This's our town. Our planet. You either play by our rules your you're welcome to choke on a bag of dicks like the last guy.\"\n\nThe monster responded by sending a goute of fire at Dan, who rolled out of the way, emptying the gun's clip into the creature. It advanced when dan's gun clicked empty, only to find Luke's shotgun pressed against the back of its head.\n\n\"DRAGON'S BREATH!\" Luke spoke, it came out as an echoing world encircling sound, but never rose more than a bare whisper just before Luke pulled the trigger, sending a tounge of steel-melting fire into the beast's skull. \n\nWhen the now headless body started to dissolve into smoke Luke offered Dan a hand up. \"Gotta say the one up side of all this bullshit is the fact I don't even NEED Meth to get over a hangover now.\"\n\n\"Right right, but I still say it's retarded we couldn't at least get a weekend off. At this rate we're gonna miss the big ride.\""
] | [
1,
36
] | [
"1477423982",
"1477434342"
] |
Surprise me. | [WP] The purge actually happens, but only half of the population knows about 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",
"*Realized I carried on from the last movie instead of a real life situation at the beginning but hopefully should be a decent read anyway*\n\n\nThe US government set it up in secret, exactly 10 years after the purge was demolished. I remember it well, Senator Charlie Roan was inches from death and yet overcome the impossible to win the election. It was an amazing feat but her hard work seems to be becoming undone by a group of activist who wanted to bring the purge back. They assassinated her. \n\nConspiracy theories tell us that this group was set-up by the people closest to Charlie, they wanted her out of power. The same problems were arising, crime was on the up, over population and a shortage of housing. They concluded the only opportunity was to bring the practice of the Purge back, to correct itself again. This time, when Phillip Helm came into power, he did bring back the purge but not like any other time, he set the date two days later and only half the population got to know about it. \n\nMy names Matt King and this is exactly what happen that night. \n\nI was with the other half of the population that didn't get to know about the recommission of the Purge. I was out with my Family having a late night meal, celebrating my youngest daughters accomplishment. Sarah had just won an swimming award at school and we decided to take her out to the cinema and a family meal as a cause of celebration. \nWe were halfway through our meal, laughing and reminiscing about how well she had done, when the siren kicked in. The old familiar noise which hit you with fright those 10 years ago, had now made a reappearance and everyone stopped. For a split second, everyone in the restaurant froze and looked at each other and almost laughed it off as some type of fault. It was far from it.\n\n\"This is your 1 minute warning\" the announcement started... \n\"The annual purge is about to commence, backed by the US government... all crime including murder will be legal for 24 hours\".\nThe rest of announcement become a blur, a fuzz in my head. Panic set in and everyone rushed from their seats, screaming heading for exit. It was chaotic, the place become a bomb site within the space of a few minutes, and I was still frozen to my seat.\n\n\"Matt!... we need to leave now!... MATT are you listening to me?!\" a voice was screaming at me.\nI came back around to see my wife Samantha continuing to scream at me... \"Matt, Let's go!\"\n\nI got up from my seat and grabbed my wife and daughter and dashed towards the exit, and then it happened. The front of the restaurant exploded and I flew backwards, the grip of my daughters hand in mine disappearing with it. I blacked out... for how long I don't know. But when I awoke from the damaging slump, they were both lying there in the restaurant, bloodied, cold, they were gone. \n\nI dropped to my knees and held them in my arms, tears streaming from my face. for the first time in my life I felt empty, lost and alone and it had all happened in the space of 5 minutes. My sadness turned into anger, why had they allowed this to happen, why was there no warning? I wanted the answers, I wanted those responsible to feel the exact pain I was feeling right there in that restaurant and it was going to happen tonight.\n\nTo be continued. \n"
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"1477456218",
"1477477992"
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[removed] | [WP] You're Chris Hansen with Dateline NBC doing an investigation on computer predators. Usually the men who visit your undercover sting house have terrible excuses, but this one guy's story makes so much sense you're starting to take his side. | 0 | [
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"Hi there, this post has been removed.\n\nThe mods reserve the right to remove anything we feel is harmful to the community. This includes, but is not limited to any forms of hate speech, racism, pedophilia, bestiality, incest, or rape. We will not tolerate it. \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/59jn72/wp_youre_chris_hansen_with_dateline_nbc_doing_an/%0A%0A)"
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1,
1
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"1477511329",
"1477511663"
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[WP] Write a story set on a boat. | 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",
"The crew were slumping under the shade of the boat canopy. Technically speaking, should they really wanted to avoid thirst, staying in the cabin was their best option; it was hot out in the open seas midday. But they couldn't stand the air inside the cabin. They preferred the heat of the sun to the damp and rank smell of the cabin.\n\n\"Hey, I think I got it!\" a voice came out from the cabin. The captain and his three men all jumped up and ran into the cabin. In the cabin stood a man with glasses, lighting a nervous cigar on his rattling lips. The man's name was Gavin, the navigator of the boat. The captain of the boat, Richard, snapped the recently lit cigar from Gavin's mouth and slammed it down onto a table, laden with maps, compasses, notes, and numbers.\n\n\"Shouldn't be smoking here, son.\" Richard said. The three other men awaited patiently. Gavin dug his face into his sweaty palms, and made an audible sigh. \"Just tell us what you found.\" Richard the captain commanded.\n\n\"So...\" Gavin began to speak, stuttering: \"I... uh... I... found out that, hah, we, hmm, on a current. If my mediocre astrology, I mean, astronomy is correct and then...\" Gavin took a moment to press down his shaking hand. \"From where we were, eh, before the attack, we're on, probably, North Pacific Current.\"\n\nAn explanation which satisfied none. The other crews had little to no knowledge of the sea. They were out there to enjoy their vacation, and the captain was called the captain because he owned the boat and was the eldest. It was a journey across the Pacific Ocean, a fun time to spend their summer, a bonding of friendship, and an opportunity for a group of psychopaths to play pirate. The pirates sabotaged the engine, destroyed the machinery beyond repair, and stole the food and fresh water supply save for some under the hatchway. And it was their second day stranded in the middle of somewhere in the Pacific Ocean.\n\n\"Now, what does that mean?\" Richard asked. The other three crew nodded to the captain's words, hoping Gavin would explain it in layman's term.\n\n\"Uh, if we sit here, and wait... the boat will ride this current, and reach somewhere in California.\" Gavin said as he slid his index finger across the map. As his finger stopped on somewhere on Californian beach, the crew cheered and blew a whistle.\n\n\"Yeah! Damn right! Fuck yeah!\" screamed Willis, a nephew of Richard. \"The smart man, solving all the problems, man.\" said Toby, an acquaintance of Gavin. \"Phew, I thought we were gonna... alright!\" said Kilian, a fishing enthusiast. The crew couldn't contain their happiness either, until that is Gavin raised his hand and continued his explanation.\n\n\"Uh, hold on folks. It won't get us there... soon.\" Gavin said, as he fixed his glass with shaking hands. The captain and the crew were hushed quick and stood in silence. \"It will take, about, six days at least.\" The colors flushed away from all the faces inside the cabin. There was a silence--quiet enough for the men to hear their pulse beating through their veins. All of them understood what it meant. There simply wasn't enough food and water. Water, specifically.\n\nFood, they could manage, they thought. Those extreme monks go weeks without food, they've heard. Kilian could catch some fishes. But water? They knew that people can't go on without water for more than three days. And there's only enough for 10 days worth of water, for one person that is. The entire population of the boat made very sure of what they had left in terms of survival in their previous discussion. A singular thought lit up in five different brains. A simple math, in reality. Should they go on, all five of them--Richard, Gavin, Willis, Toby, and Kilian would thirst to death; four days without water seemed like a death sentence. The thought: There had to be less mouth to water.\n\n\"So what you're saying...\" said Toby, being the first to break the silence. As soon as he spoke, everyone began to speak in turmoil. \"What Gavin was saying is,\" \"Did he meant to say,\" \"I don't think I quite...\" \"I heard you right, you son of a bitch,\" \"Sorry, I didn't invent the ocean!\" \"What did you fucking say?\" \"How do I deserve...\"\n\n\"Shut up!\" yelled Richard the captain on the top of his lungs. He smashed the table with his open hands several times. The other four men fell silent and waited what the captain had to say: \"We all, know, what we're thinking. The water. The water bottles, under our feet right now. But see, see, there's some water in the tuna cans, right? I heard watermelon's like, what was it, made of 90% water? Some other foods, they are bound to have some water in them. Do you see? We gotta work this out. We have to work together. Panicking won't help.\"\n\nThe men agreed. The panic and the fight would lose them more water in their body anyway, they thought, and followed the captain's order's to organize the foods. Tuna with juices saltier then sea water. Peanuts. Pecans. Dried fruits. Beef jerky. Potato chips. The faces of the crew darkened. The food seemed to be unappetizingly dry in general. Kilian fell to his knees and hugged his head. Gavin went out from the cabin to get some air. Willis started to kick the floor.\n\n\"We draw straws, tomorrow. No water drinking tonight.\" said Richard, crestfallen. Toby stood up from his crouching position and raised his finger to Richard. But when he noticed that all other men stared at him with the disapproving eyes, Toby returned to his despairing position. Better to take chances than to be lynched.\n\n\"How many?\" asked Toby.\n\n\"Two. I think three people can manage with the water we have left. Have a water every two days. Something like that. Will be tough, but won't die from dehydration, in my...\" Richard answered.\n\n\"But maybe if we plan better...\" interrupted Kilian.\n\n\"Six days. At best.\" said Richard.\n\nThe men sighed synchronously. For the preservation of the energy, the captain and the crew, exhausted and thirsty, laid down in the shades. None of them were particularly religious, but they all began praying in secrecy. Please, not me, Lord.\n\nThe sun set beyond the blue horizon and the crew still laid immobile. They were speechless, yet busy with thoughts. It was agreed that the unlucky two will simply jump into the ocean and wait for their inevitable death. The thought of floating around the ocean until their death terrified four of the crew. Kilian didn't thought about such grim thought. He had other plan in his mind.\n\nWhen the sun was shining on the other side of the planet, and the crew all fell asleep tired, Kilian rose and tapped on Willis's shoulder. Willis woke up fast, considering how anxious he was about the drawing tomorrow. \"Come,\" Kilian whispered. And Willis followed. When Willis came out from the cabin to the deck, he saw Kilian under the moonlight staring at a distance. \"Willis, you got great eyes. Are you seeing what I'm seeing there?\" Kilian said, pointing at a distance.\n\nWillis squinted his eyes as hard as he could to see what was Kilian seeing. He didn't see anything beside the horizons. \"Nah, I don't think there's anything--\"\n\nKilian wrapped a cable around Willis's neck and strangled Willis as hard as he could. Willis wanted to scream, but the pressure of the cables shut his throat tight. His face became red, and then blue. With a small nudge on his back, Willis fell from the boat, dead. Kilian's plan was simple: Kill to survive. One by one he will call his crew onto the deck, and strangle them. Until he's the only one left alive on the boat. When he turned back to return to the cabin, he saw a silhouette of a man standing under the door: Toby.\n\n\"You motherfuck--\" Toby screamed. Kilian nearly leaped onto Toby and threw a punch to Toby's face. Toby fell onto his back. Kilian jumped onto Toby and started to drop his elbow onto Toby's face. Toby's nose crushed inward, but Toby made no attempt to protect his face. Instead, his hand reached for his side, grabbed an ice picker, and shoved it between Kilian's rib. Kilian screamed in pain, a noise which awoke Richard and Gavin inside the cabin. The blood oozed from Kilian's side. He took steps back away from Toby, who in response ran toward Kilian and dug the ice picker right above Kilian's right eyesocket. Kilian whipped the cable, but was rather ineffective. Toby, clenching his teeth hard enough to break them, pulled out the ice picker and shoved it onto the other eyes. Then, Toby littered Kilian's face with holes.\n\nToby looked at his side atop the corpse of Kilian and saw two people, armed with pipes watching him in horror. \"No, it wasn't me.\" Toby tried to explain. \"I didn't start...\"\n\nHis explication of the situation was overwhelmed by the war-cries of Richard and Gavin, both of whom Toby saw charging at him with an intention to kill. Toby figured it's best to threaten them back with the ice picker, but when he tried to pull the picker out from Kilian's tattering face, he found it was stuck. A full swing of steel pipe struck Toby's head. He fell bleeding and began shaking his hands. More pipes fell onto Toby's head until the shaking stopped.\n\nRichard looked around for Willis, his murdered nephew now afloat the Pacific Ocean. \"I was afraid this might happen.\" Gavin commented. \"Just two of us, Richard. We'll make it through.\" Richard stood still, his eyes on his dead nephew. \"Right,\" Richard the captain answered. \"We'll make it through.\"\n\nRichard turned away from Willis's body and offered to shake Gavin's hand. Gavin accepted, and gave Richard his smile, which went unreturned. Gavin felt a chilling feeling running down his spine. Gavin had a hunch that this murder spree wasn't over. But what if Richard was simply having his well-deserved shock from the recent death of his beloved nephew and the murder of his mate? It's not like Gavin saw a man killing other man before. Gavin worried that the murderous madness got the better of him, and tried to shake away his invasive thoughts.\n\nNeither knew none would survive. "
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"1477537569",
"1477553623"
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[WP] A teenage boy survives the Apocalypse with his crush. After a while he realizes she's annoying as hell. | 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",
"\"Josie, for the love of God, please fuck off.\" \n\nIt had been two weeks since the end of the Earth. Victor and Josie had been fortunate enough to survive inside the washrooms of the high school. Civilization had collapsed around them. Storefronts and old family homes turned to rubble; vehicles strewn amok on roadsides, some burning ever so slowly to the ground. \n\nBetween the two of them, dozens of family members were lost, pets vanished, and memories destroyed. Victor, ever the optimist, saw this as one of those cliched opportunities to grow closer to Josie. She had been his muse since the moment he met her, almost 10 years ago in the third grade. Strawberry blonde hair flowing effortlessly in the wind, her supple physique moved with grace. Victor was no pushover himself, but still falling into that \"out-of-her-league\" category so many of their classmates seemed to find themselves in. And now she was all his. \n\nAnd he hated it. \n\nThe first few days, aside from the mourning and grief, were actually quite bearable considering the company they were able to provide each other. They raided old doomsday bunkers together, a boon for supplies as the apocalyptic annihilation was brought on without so much as a sticky-note to indicate its arrival. \n\nThey really clicked, and managed to survive the first week together. And then it all went downhill. Victor couldn't figure out if the perpetual loneliness had anything to do with it, although regardless of what she told him on the matter, he knew deep down that it did. But still, she became incessant and destructive. \n\nForcing him to sleep alongside charred stumps and under dilapidated decks and awnings, while she found remnants of beds and couches to ease her slumber. It was killing Victor, not just dealing with the abnormal cold on an Arizonian summer night, but the fact that he was blindly following her every command based on the sole desire to eventually reconcile with her, and eventually procreate in order to, or at least attempt to, reconstruct civilization. \n\n\"Why, Victor? Is my humming bothering you?\" Josie snapped back at him with a sinister sneer. \n\n\"Come on, Josie, you know it is.\" Her mockery was infuriating. \"You could at least hum some Tom Petty, 'cause you're breaking my heart right now.\" \n\nShe chuckled at his lame attempt at a joke. \n\n\"Man, you've gotta grow up. It's the two of us. One of us was bound to piss off the other eventually.\" Her argument was valid, but it still irked Victor to hear her defend her annoying actions. \n\n\"Yes, fine, but it's all the time. Eating, sleeping, walking, sitting. Anything you could be doing, you have a hum for.\" Victor added a little snark to his tone. \"Why don't you come over to *Team Sanity* where we walk and enjoy the perpetual silence of this wasteland?\" \n\nJosie began to walk in silence. It was what Victor wanted, but he knew she was only doing it to infuriate him further. He heaved a sigh. \n\n\"Look... Josie. I'm going to be straight with you.\" He didn't want to say it, but it was his only chance at them getting along. \"I've loved you for the past nine years. Sure, it's kind of stupid to think of myself as an eight-year-old having a crush on you, but it's true.\" \n\nJosie peeked at Victor in her peripheral. \n\n\"I know it has been rough trying to deal with everything that has gone on, but the truth is, it's just the two of us now. And rather than clawing and fighting at every little thing that bothers us about one another, I'd really love to work as a team. I've been on your team all my life. Will you return the favour and join my team?\" \n\nJosie blushed the most romantic colour of red and pink Victor had ever seen. Even beneath her demented behaviour, and the layer of dust and dirt that covered her body, she was still the beautiful, intelligent, and unfailingly kind person he had ever known. \n\nShe smiled at him, and nodded. \n\n\"Of course I want to be on your team, Vic.\" \n\n*She had never called him that before.* \n\n\"I've always wanted to be on your team. I know it's so generic of me to have dated all the guys I have, but deep down, I knew you cared about me, and I knew you were always someone I could count on. Now that we're the only people left on Earth who can be counted on, I want to count on you.\" \n\nVictor couldn't believe what he was hearing, and his face was flushed in almost the exact same shade of red. \n\n\"I'm sorry for all the irritability and irrationality. I know as well as you do that this whole experience has been nothing short of a nightmare for the both of us, and I never meant for my coping mechanism to bother you. I suppose I'm a little more of an exhibitionist than you are, so the best way I could keep my focus off the situation was to distract myself with whatever I could do.\" \n\n*\"Holy shit,\" Victor thought to himself. \"She's going to say it.\"* \n\n\"I love you, too, Victor. And I really hope we can always be there for each other to deal with whatever this crazy new world throws at us.\" \n\n*****\n\nMy second ever prompt response! I'm not sure if I'm doing okay at this. I would love some CC so I can keep working on bettering my responses! :) \n\nEDIT: I'm aware that I set the story in Arizona, and also that I spelled favour, colour, and behaviour all with \"u\"'s. I'm Canadian, but I felt that Arizona sort of fit the bill for a wasteland setting. Stereotyping, I know."
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"1477538883",
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[WP] You are one of the grunts that the cowardly villain just ordered to go head first into a trap, all your best friends died that way. You've had enough. | 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",
"We respected him. We believed in him. Because of that, we followed him blindly, committing vile crimes under the premise of reforming the world into a better place. \nIt was brutal.\n\nOur entire squad, wiped out by the trap of the 'heroes'; bearing joyful and innocent faces, unknown to the horrors of a hard life due to their incredible powers that gave them a free pass.\n\nI was the only one able to make it back to base, expecting him to be overwhelmed with a vendetta towards the people that slaughtered his men. \n\nHis beady, dark eyes looked down on my wounded countenance with a look of absolute disappointment. \n\n\"Huh? You're still alive, and you didn't manage to slay any of the heroes? What a joke. You've all been a waste of my resources. Leave.\"\n\nWe were wrong.\n\nWe were nothing but disposable puppets to him; expendable side characters that he managed to con. He keeps claiming himself to be a mastermind, and to that I could only wonder how he defines the word mastermind. Sending in most of your men to death didn't sound part of the plan. It sounded like he was just using us to make more space, more time between himself and the 'heroes' so that he could keep preserving his cowardly arse just a little bit longer everytime. \n\nAll of our loyalty and trust was devoted to him and the cause had rewarded us with nothing but betrayal in the end. \n\nMaybe the reason that we joined him in the first place was because of the fact that we just wanted to have something, anything to believe in, rather than just being hollow and homeless nobodies. \n\nI had lost everything. \n\nThis one fact was more evident when my forehead was scraped against the dirt and my prostrated body against the party of the heroes, begging for vengeance.\n\nI was only met with the same treatment we gave then back then: smirks, spits, and a kick of dust onto my body. There was no shred of mercy I would be able to get from them. Nor anyone.\n\nI had lost everything. That led to me unable to hold anything.\n\nEverything had slipped, and will continue to slip eternally through my fingers.\n\nNonetheless, it will never stop me from grasping that one thing I most desire with these hands. \n\nHis damn neck.\n\n(Thanks for reading! I'd appreciate any feedback, if you can.)"
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"1477552823",
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[WP] You accidentally stumble into a top secret facility, a suited man approaches you, slowly clapping and begins to congratulate you on figuring out his elaborate plan. You have no idea what's going on, but you you go with it. | 295 | [
"\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",
"https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/59s7lq/wp_timetraveler_meets_a_stranger_that_can_live/\n\nUsing the same character from the above prompt to which I replied as the protagonist. Sorry\n\nThe man was suited and had a burnt complexion to him . He approached me with a grin . \" You seem to have understood my plan . And , it seems that you've successfully created a elaborate plan throughout time to not allow me to rule the world\" he said.\n\nThe letter said that I had to be here at 2090 and I had to poison everyone , including the leader . But , if I wasn't the leader , then why did the third letter say that I embezzled the funds? Was I made to?\n\n\" But , if I capture you and make your 2090 self see you , then I guess his or yours or whomever this plan is will fail. \" \n\n\" Holy shit , it's true after all .\" A over-hyped voice exclaimed. \" So this was your plan , huh , Mr.Herbto ? Becoming a dictator . \"\n\n\" Nice to see you , fanboy of 1funb0y . You two are so close and yet you both claim to be not gay . \"\n\nI didn't seem to recognize him . Partly because he was wearing a hood . \n\n\" Well, if it's any consolation , I am gonna disintegrate you .\" And , boom went the light as my so called fanboy destroyed Herbto. He then turned to me and said \" Believe in those letters . Believe in yourself . And poison me when I'm asleep . \" \n\nHe then runs to the dark passage and vanishes. \n\n\nLater that night,I poison everyone in and around and then sneak at the back door. I find him starting the launch sequence and then boom . the whole premises is gone .\n\nAnd now I know exactly where to be . I set my dial to Jan 4 , 2016. I sneak at the window and find myself , old and torn , placing the ring on my desk with the first letter . And then , he uses an atomic disintegrator to kill himself.\n\nI then go inside and read the letter . It reads \" Time is like a fabric. And , it serves as a record for the events that occur . These events get dyed and remain there as a permanent hue. But when someone starts going backwards in time , they start re-dying the fabric. Or in simple terms , stuff gets superimposed. Incidents can either happen or they don't. But in a superimposition , they both happen and don't.\" I then add the lines \"I am still yet to know is how much I can end up superimposing just by making myself visible to people whose timeline I don't belong to . Is time a stretchable , infinitely thick fabric that can be repainted an infinite times ?\"\n\n",
"It was late and the noodles tasted like shit.\n\nIt'd been that kind of night. Jerry had gotten lost on his way home. Not entirely unexpected, trying to navigate the subway after a few drinks too many, but not much fun either. Getting off the F train Jerry had emerged from the station to find himself in the middle of nowhere. His phone was dead, his head was swimming, and he was famished. Walking (unsteadily) for a few blocks, he'd gone into a noodle joint that was still open and ordered the Cumin Lamb Noodles.\n\nThey were decidedly not palatable.\n\n_Fuck, just my luck,_ thought Jerry, _I'll just use the restroom and get out of here._\n\nHe got up and walked through the door at the back of the restaurant, paying no heed to the sign marked \"Employees Only\".\n\nThere were stairs. _Oh god,_ thought Jerry, looking around for a restroom he could use without risk of personal injury. Finding none, he resigned himself to swaying down the stairs. There were many of them, and it was a long, slow, heroic ordeal.\n\nAt the bottom he was greeted by three soft slow claps.\n\n\"Welcome. And well done! Well done indeed!\"\n\nThe man spoke with an English accent. He was wearing a three piece suit and had a black umbrella in one hand.\n\n\"Oh god, I was so worried no one would come. I thought these incidents I'd planned might not catch your attention or that this whole thing was too elaborate.\" The man was gushing. \"What if you didn't connect the dots? Well, none of that matters now. You're here. The one man who could solve my little puzzles. A worthy adversary at last! No need to worry, I promise it won't be nearly this easy from now on. I am rather proud of some of it though. What did you think?\"\n\n\"Can you show me --\"\n\n\"Oh! Of course!\" Grabbing Jerry by the hand, he pulled him along into the room.\n\n\"See here, the original engraving plates for the five dollar bill. How long did it take you to figure out that we'd replaced them?\"\n\nAs he was pulled along, the corner of a wooden table scratched Jerry's leg. \"Too sharp!\" He slurred.\n\n\"Of course. Yes, it was too hard to forge plates with the right wear and tear, so we had to do without and steal the newest set we could manage. I should have known it wouldn't fool a trained observer for an instant. What about the chain of thefts that got me the printing presses? I've never used that technique before. It was rather elegant wasn't it?\"\n\nJerry couldn't take much more. Between the alcohol, this ceaseless prattle, and what he'd eaten of those noodles, he was feeling decidedly ill.\n\n\"Ugh, the Chinese foo --\"\n\n\"Ah! Yes, the Chinese! God, you really did do the thing properly, didn't you? You could have stopped with the Russians and still had enough to find what was going on. Honestly, I didn't expect anyone to bother tracing the chain through to the Chinese. You're right, though, they really are fools to have left a trail. That'll set me back months, I'll have to build a new network of go-betweens. Oh god, this is the happiest day of my life!\"\n\n\"The lamb --\"\n\n\"Clumsy, I know, that clue with the figurine. Honestly, I was getting a bit desperate by that point. Dealing with the rest of them, it's like being surrounded by goldfish, isn't it? They just can't think think things through. I was so lonely. And the boredom is an affliction like none other. I don't know how you can stand it.\"\n\nJerry bent over as a wave of nausea passed over him.\n\n\"Hey! What's the matter? Are you all right?\" The Englishman was at his side, watching, eyes wide with concern.\n\nThe feeling receded and Jerry stood upright again.\n\n\"Yeah, I'll be fine. Probably shouldn't have eaten those Cumin Lamb Noodles.\"\n\n\"You _ate_ them?! Good god man, that was just a bit of tradecraft. You ordered the Cumin Lamb Noodles and it opens the voice activated lock on the 'Employees Only' door. What on earth moved you to disregard all the warning signs I put in place to keep people from actually eating here? The smell? The discoloration on the pasta? The 'C' grade from the health inspector?\"\n\n\"I guess I didn't notice.\"\n\n\"You didn't -- didn't notice?\" the Englishman spoke very softly now.\n\n\"I was just hungry and --\" Jerry started.\n\n\"You're no consulting detective. You're not any kind of detective, are you?\" sighed the other man. His voice trembled ever so slightly, as though from some supressed emotion.\n\n\"I'm an accountant.\"\n\n\"An accountant.\" The Englishman seemed to crumple as he spoke. \"Yes, I see now. I had hoped -- hoped, where I should simply have observed and deduced. The inescapable conclusion is that my fears were well founded. The New York detective is a dull breed, only equal to commonplace, unremarkable crime. There is no place here for an artist of criminal enterprise.\" This last sentence he whisphered and only he could hear it.\n\nThe last thing Jerry knew was that arms wrapped around his throat. Then the world went black.\n\nWhen he came to, Jerry was lying in a corner of the noodle joint. It was morning, and the place was empty. His head throbbed and his mouth still tasted of those noodles. A letter was taped to his wrist.\n\n> Dear Sir,\n\n> Please accept my sincere apologies for worsening your ordeals of last night and for comparing you (indirectly) to a goldfish. A car and driver are waiting outside, to take you wherever you wish to go.\n\n> In addition, for the love of god, go to a decent noodle joint next time. I recommend Xi'an Famous Foods at 41-10 Main Street in Flushing.\n\n> Regards,\n\n> J. Moriarty",
"I consume my daily dose of politics and world events to keep myself cynical. It's a numbing protection against the real dangers in life such as a disappointed boss or wife. I tell myself they appreciate my sarcasm and general lack of interest in their own plights because otherwise they can take a hike.\n\nI pulled into work this morning with NPR blasting. I like to think those listening become infected with enlightenment when I drive by. Especially those talk radio zombie construction workers that normally sneer at me when I ignore their little flags. \n\nThere is something about the monotone NPR voices of reason that give me solace. It's not condescension. It's just that they make me feel more informed than the average man. Everything has purpose and order when described by a steady logical voice. Even irrational people find themselves cataloged in neat little boxes with each malformed behavior neatly labeled and contextualized so that I know they should never be taken seriously.\n\nI stepped out of the car, dusted the remnants of todays' Dunkin Doughnut from my lap, and pulled the laptop case from my backseat.\n\n\"Paul! Thank God you're here!\" It was Billy and from the sound of his voice he had made some catastrophic mistake that hopefully would turn out not to be that bad when analyzed by my steady hands at the rudder.\n\n\"Morning Billy, what's wrong,\" I sighed as I took the last sip of my coffee. \n\n\"The red door. It opened by itself this morning!\"\n\n\"THE red door? The one marked 'Restricted Area' with 'Use of deadly force authorized' beneath it?\" I was incredulous. Someone was going to be in a world of shit if this were true.\n\n\"YES! Paul I didn't touch it! I was just on my way to the break room when I noticed this... fog rolling out of the restricted area. So I looked in and...\"\n\n\"You looked in?\"\n\n\"I.. I did and Paul there are bodies inside. Soldiers are down but there are no alarms!\"\n\n\"Who else is here on the normal clearance team?\" I barked.\n\n\"On a holiday? You, me, and Lisa.\"\n\n\"Shit!\" I muttered, \"We need to call...\"\n\n\"All communications are down. My cell is 10 miles back at the guard tower drop box. I was just about to drive back there when I saw you pull in.\"\n\n\"OK, stay calm. I want you to jump in your car and get to the guard tower as fast as you can. Where is Lisa?\"\n\n\"I don't know. I wanted to find her but.. I'm afraid Paul.\"\n\n\"For fuck sakes Billy, just get in your car and go. I'll find her.\"\n\nI used my security badge to authenticate with the outer door, then my retinas and my right index finger on the inner door. The smell of the place was different when I stepped inside. The smell of new carpet and disinfectant spray was replaced by something more earthen and moldy.\n\n\"Lisa?\" I spoke aloud as I walked the cubicle that lined the parameter of the building. If I had been honest I would have said I was purposely avoiding the center of the complex and the ominous red door.\n\nWhen I got to Bret's office I pulled out the red emergency manual and started thumbing through. Inside was a list of numbers to call but as Billy had noted, all communications appeared to be down.\n\n\"Lisa?\" I called again and heard what might have been a faint response. I walked cautiously towards the hallway that lead to the center of the building. The mildew smell was stronger here, as if someone had opened up a basement door.\n\nMy heart started racing as I could hear unfamiliar echoes coming from the corner as I rounded it. \n\nThere the damned evil thing stood open as if it were a giant gaping mouth wanting to swallow the normal cubicle filled world I now inhabited. There was indeed some sort of dense fog rolling out of the door. Inside I could see a lumped form on the ground. \n\n\"I should go outside now and wait for the soldiers,\" I told myself. My brain did just that for a few seconds until I realized I was day dreaming. \n\n\"Paul,\" I heard a faint voice from inside the door.\n\n\"Lisa? If you're in there come out now! Billy has gone for help. We need to get out of...\"\n\n\"I'm dying. Please... please help.\"\n\nI swallowed hard. I didn't want to go in there. I wanted to pretend I had not heard my name. Plausible deniability. I could even say I didn't want to enter a restricted area.\n\nThen my feet betrayed me. I inched closer to the door and looked around. I couldn't see anyone.\n\n\"Paul,\" a voice weakly pleaded. Then there on the ground, in the fog I saw her. Her dark skin looked translucent contrasted against the rolling white cloud.\n\nI kneeled down next to her. She was bleeding from a wound on her chest. It looked bad.\n\n\"Lisa, I'm going to get you help.\"\n\n\"No, please. You don't unders... get me out of here now.\"\n\n\"You're injured and in shock. If I move you it could kill you.\"\n\nA large crackling sound echoed from deep inside the red door. Then the ground shook and an alarm klaxon sounded. I turned just in time to see the large red door closing. \n\nIf I had been more daring I might have made it outside in time. Instead I found myself fruitlessly pushing against the heavy hydraulic motors that sounded overhead. Then the hollow boom as the door sealed and locked. \n\n\n\n",
"“This is why I don’t trust apps,” I thought to myself. “This thing wants me to walk into the river.”\n\nFrustrated, I clicked my phone screen off. I was trying to find a way across the river and thought a bridge was a short walk away. My phone said it was a 30 minute trip and I blindly trusted it. Turns out, about 20 minutes into the walk, that it wasn’t taking me to a bridge, it had me trying to walk *into* the goddamn river.\n\nI rested my hands on a railing adjacent to the river and looked across at the skyline I was trying to get to. My friend had texted me an hour earlier saying he heard that my favorite band *Master Plan* was playing at *The King’s Lair* at midnight. Now though, I was going to be late, if I made it at all.\n\nIt was already 11:40 p.m. so I re-opened my phone to order a cab. As I thumbed through the screen looking for the right app, an update at the top of the screen came down.\n\n*Turn Right, 10 ft.*\n\nFor kicks, I looked up at what it could possibly mean. To my surprise though, I saw a manhole cover.\n\n“It wants me to go through that!?” I thought. I’m always up for an adventure, but that would just be savage. Who knows what kind of disgusting rats live in that thing, is it even safe?\n\nStill, the explorer in me was still pretty intrigued. If I didn’t make it to the show, I might at least get a story out of the journey. Besides, I could always check it out, and if it looked sketchy, I’d just back out.\n\nI lifted the cover to find a well lit, nice looking tunnel.\n\n“Holy shit, this is the nicest sewer I’ve ever seen.”\n\nThe ladder leading down was a smooth steel, LED lights on either side lit up the tunnel, and the grey walls were paved smoothly.\n\nMy hopes had been bolstered by the revelation and I figured if I hurried I could make it to the show on time.\n\nA few moments later, I had descended to the base of the ladder. I looked beyond to see the tunnel was a comfortable width, clean, and well lit. “Fuck yea, I’m doin’ this,” I thought, as I made my way through the tunnel.\n\nAfter a few minutes, I came to an opening.\n\nI entered a spacious room, the entirety of which, was chrome colored. To my right was an elevated platform that was wide enough to be a stage, and had a large computer monitor over it with several smaller computers under it. Opposite of that were large cylindrical tubes filled with green or orange fluid. In them floated organisms that did not look to be from this earth.\n\nSuddenly I heard clapping and a voice boomed from a bannister opposite my entrance.\n\n“Well, well, well, I see you’ve made it to the king’s lair,” a man in a suit said as he looked down upon me.\n\n“Yeah man, sick venue. These props are awesome.”\n\n“I see you’ve figured out this is where I’d carry out my master plan at midnight.”\n\n“Yea man, I’m super stoked. Am I the only one who made it?”\n\n“It appears you were the only one smart enough to follow the clues.”\n\n“Right, I mean, I just followed my phone, but like, you kind of *want* people to be able to find your show right? Like this is a little off the beaten path.”\n\nThe suited man cocked an eyebrow.\n\nI forgave the promoters lack of marketing prowess, found a spot against the wall and took a hastily rolled joint out of my pocket.\n\nSuddenly, there was a loud bang on the stage and black smoke started to form. Two men in kevlar vests rappelled down from the ceiling. The suited man pulled a weapon out of his pocket and began to fire red lasers at the stage, while the men fired back with green lasers of their own.\n\nI was in awe by the choreography of it all, these guys never failed to put on a show. I lit the joint, took a deep breath in, and then exhaled.\n\n“This show’s gonna be sick.”",
"It was a rainy, miserable Thursday morning when Ellie vowed to stop antagonising her employers after being fired, yet again because of her temperament. Six jobs in last two years, each one with increasingly ridiculous coworkers, borderline illegal transactions and positively insane bosses. \n\nThe last job seemed perfect, a quaint coffee place, the kind with overpriced beverages and post-ironic clientele. Sure it was slightly tedious but the pay was good and her last boss was an unhinged witch so it seemed a step up, then again most jobs were a step of from that. \n\nShe was so happy to have a slice of everyday normality, no witches, no ancient evil organisations, no mad scientists - only coffee and the quiet indie rock music filling the room. Until she started noticing that there was no steel, no iron in the entire coffee shop. All the machinery, the counter tops, picture frames - even the door handles were copper. She took note of the ethereal beauty of her coworkers and how cruel their smiles were. Their tinkling laughs and the strange powder they mix with the coffee beans, how the longtime customers get a desperate look on their faces after not visiting the place after a while, how they feel thirst that can't be quenched with any water on earth. Only this coffee. Her shift had only started when she figured it out - Faerie. Of course. Fucking faeries. She should have stayed quiet and made no fuss. But that is not her style. The streets seemed to mirror the pathetic mood she was in.\n\nThe rain turned from a drizzle to a downpour, soaking her to the bone. She walked home with determination, her boots making a squelching sound with every step forward. The battered old blue umbrella flew away from her grasp and with a cry of frustration she decided to take cover. \n\nA looming building with glass windows rose before her. She wrenched the door open, stepped inside and with a bang yanked it closed. She was greeted with eerie silence and an empty hall, thunder booming while a storm raged outside. With a sigh she decided she might as well explore while she was stuck. Elaborate corporate building with an unlocked door and all the lights on seemed like a mystery. \n\nThe stairs led to the second floor with multiple conference rooms but the biggest was the presentation room with rows of chairs neatly placed in front of a podium. Suddenly a man rose from a front row chair as she walked past and she screamed momentary. The man started clapping. \"I must admit, I never thought I'd meet such a worthy adversary, Detective Inspector. \" \n\n\"Um.\"\n\n\"Although, I have to say, you do not look like I imagined. Still. Clever, very clever. Your squabbling colleagues almost fooled me. Almost. I knew there had to be a mastermind behind this, thwarting me at every turn.\" \n\n\nHe smiled sardonically while she wild eyed searched for the nearest exit. \n\n\n\"Um, I think you've got the wrong person-\" \n\n\"Let's not play these tricks anymore. The clock is ticking. The bomb is going to wipe out the entire city in minutes unless you stop it!\"\n\n\"THE WHAT NOW?!\"\n\n\"...The bomb?\"\n\n\"What do you mean a bomb?! What the hell?!\"\n\n\"...Are you serious?\"\n\n\"No, are YOU fucking serious, what kind of a hyperbolic villain are you to plan to blow up the city?! Might I add - you are IN the city right now.\"\n\n\"Oh, dear... You are not the detective, are you?\"\n\n\"NO I AM NOT!\"\n\nHe sat down on the floor and mournfully stared at her. \"This was supposed to be the final scheme, me and my foe facing off before I win! The grand ending to my majestic story! Now it is ruined.\"\n\n\"...\"\n\n\"...\"\n\n\"...Are you crying?\"\n\n\nThe door of the presentation room flew open and a dishevelled looking young man brandishing a gun ran in and was faced with a crying man on the floor and a soaked girl comforting him.\n\nHe cleared his throat. \"Argus! Your plan failed! The bomb was deactivated and now you're going to jail!\"\nThe man openly started sobbing and wailing. Ellie sighed and gestured at the crying man. \"Fix this. I'm going home. It's been a long day.\" \nOn her way home the wind picked up speed and her blue umbrella returned and flew into her face.",
"\"It was easy, really\" I replied \"...once I knew where to look.\"\nI was looking at my phone, feverishly zooming in and out on google maps, waiting for the location to load.\n\n\"Don't bother calling for backup Agent,\" sneered the well-dressed man, \"Your comrades arrived hours ago.\" His lip curled up to reveal a row of golden teeth.\n\"They're all... *waiting....*for you.\"\n\n\"Hokayyy....just gimme a minute\" I said. The map *still* wouldn't load.\nI shot the suited man an irritated glance and said, \"You guys have terrible cell service down here, you know that right?\"\n\nHe raised an eyebrow, \"Surely you're haven't lost the **Direct Interface Communication Kit** given to us by our recently departed mentor?\" \"The **D.I.C.K** device is an incredible piece of technology, capable of making direct contact with anyone from any location at any time. You should not have lost it, Agent.\"\n\n\"Errrr...this is just a loaner, I had to take my **D.I.C.K** device in for um....you know....servicing\" \n\nI chuckled, but quickly lost humor with the situation as the well-dressed man produced from his vest a very serious-looking pistol.\n\n\"Follow me,\" he commanded impatiently, \"The others are *waiting*.\"\n\nNot having any better options, I obliged the man and followed him down the tunnel. I opened up google maps on my phone again but the words, \"location not found\" displayed on my screen.\n\n\"Go*damnit!*\" I swore under my breath. \n\nAll I had wanted today was to pick up a socket wrench at Home Depot for my Dad's birthday. Being new to the city, I wasn't sure how to get there, so I plugged it in to the search bar of my google maps.\nI followed the robot lady's voice for every turn, and she had brought me to a deserted parking garage at the outer limits of town. \n\nThe building it was attached to was really run-down, but I've never been one to judge by appearances, and I figured the store was located somewhere behind its crumbling walls. So I locked the doors of my car and walked across the empty garage towards the elevator.\n\nThe elevator had only one button. So I pressed it.\n\nThe lights shut off and I felt the floor drop with a sickening lurch. My body caught the floor and reached out blindly in the dark for something to hold on to.\n\nAfter about three minutes or so, the elevator screeched to a halt, and the doors opened up into an enormous tunnel, where the well-dressed man had been waiting.\n\nAnd now here I was, following a stranger of questionable character down a gently sloping tunnel.\n\n\"You know I was beginning to worry you wouldn't find us.\" drawled the well-dressed man, \"You really had us *waiting* on pins and needles.\"\n\n\"Ugh, why do you keep saying it like that?\" I asked.\n\n\"What? Like *this*?\" he replied\n\n\"Yes, like *that.*\" I retorted.\n\nThe well dressed man cackled and threw both his hands waving into the air, and I was forcibly reminded of the wacky inflatable mascots which stood guard outside the Jiffy Lube.\n\n\"Why, I've been *waiting* for you to ask.\" He said, and punctuated the statement with a wheezy chuckle.\n\nWe continued down the tunnel, and several awkward moments passed before I asked, \"*And.....!?*\n\n\"Oh I think I'll just leave you *waiting* for an explanation.\" He answered gleefully.\n\nI was really beginning to hate this well-dressed man.\n\nI pulled my phone out from my pocket and checked, still no service. But by now we had entered what looked like a monstrous industrial factory. All manner of sinister weaponry and evil robotic components ran with fluid mechanical ease through an elaborate series of assembly lines.\n\n\"I'm building a sweet robot army.\" Bragged the well-dressed man. \"Each will be equipped with rad laser cannons and rocket boosters, I call them my **Live Action Mechanical Eliminators** He made a sweeping gesture with his arm and continued, \"Soon all the earth with tremble before my **L.A.M.E** army, all will fall before my mighty mechanical....\"\n\nBut I wasn't listening, on a nearby workbench I saw a beautiful socket wrench, its handle gleaming beneath fluorescent lights. I reached out and grabbed the tool, finding it to be of sound quality and superior craftsmanship.\n\n\".... and when I finally burn Vancouver to the ground, I'll use my bot army to build giant bounce house with huge balls and....\"\n\nThe well-dressed man hadn't noticed my detour, he was caught up in his evil monologue. I made a choice.\n\n\"....oh and all the presidents and queens and kings will be *waiting* on me hands and feet....\"\n\nI gripped the handle tight.\n\n\"...and god knows I've been *waiting* for this for so long that I.....\"\n\nI brought the wrench down with all my rage upon the well-dressed man's hateful head. Blood sprayed from his scalp and I brought the wrench down on his head again as he fell forward onto the cement floor.\n\nHe rolled onto his back began to feebly crawl backwards with one arm reaching out in futile resistance. \"Wait...wait.....*wait*...*please..*\" He gasped.\n\nI looked down upon my vanquished foe and felt the power of savage human triumph, \"I'm done *waiting*\" and brought the wrench down one last time.\n\n\n\"***MAKE A U-TURN!***\n\nI jumped as a voice echoed through the factory.\n\n\"***MAKE A U-TURN, THEN CONTINUE SOUTH FOR THREE HUN'DRED FEET!***\n\nIt was google maps, come alive at last. I made a u-turn, slipped the bloody wrench in my back pocket, and went home.\n\n\n\n\n\n",
"I almost broke my back and this chucklehead was clapping.\n\n“A little help here?” I said angrily, glaring down the pristine white hall at him.\n\nHis slow clapping ceased, but he still wore a sleazy grin. “You didn’t need my help in Paris. Or Brussels, for that matter. In fact, you’ve been quite, ah, self-sufficient.”\n\nI pulled myself up, noting his jet-black suit and oily hair. “Listen bud, I just fell into your little, uh, facility here. The least you could do is make some sense. I could sue, you know.”\n\n“Quit the chit-chat, Parker. I know who you are.”\n\n“Parker.” I said. “Right, Parker. Yes, that’s me. Parker.”\n\n“And now that you’ve found my little hide-out, tell me what you know.”\n\n“Uh–”\n\n“You, of course, must know that my trips to Europe have only been decoys. I plan to release the chemicals here in America, should they fail to pay the ransom.”\n\n“Yes. I - I definitely knew all of that.”\n\n“And you know, based on the recent influx of glyphosate brought in by my trucks, that I plan to wage biological warfare on the US’s crops.”\n\nI glanced up to see if I could escape through the trap door I had entered. “Obviously.”\n\n\"But I assume you were at a loss as to where I would strike first.”\n\n“Actually, I–”\n\nHe suddenly produced a map from inside his jacket. “Castroville, California! Artichoke Capital of the World!” At this, he cackled, a terse laugh. “You see, my trips to exotic Paris and its Belgian counterpart were not, as you might have thought, in vain. I procured sufficient information about the culinary preferences of these two cities, discovering their primary imports from America – other than tourists, Disney products, and a half-dozen other non-edible goods – to be none other than artichokes! The French and Belgian economies will be brought to their knees!”\n\n“Is that, uh...is that it?”\n\n“Admittedly, I would have preferred to bring the global economy to its knees, but you have to start somewhere. Never mind that. It is time we battle to the death.”\n\nWithout warning, a man landed behind me, which did nothing for my heart condition. I whipped around and immediately saw the gun in his hand.\n\n“Put your hands up, Jenkins.” He ordered, sneering at me.\n\nBefore I could respond, the man I had been speaking to piped up. “That’s Parker. I’m the one you’re after, unknown person.”\n\n“Jenkins,” he growled, turning the gun toward Jenkins. “I’m afraid you’re mistaken. I’m Parker.”\n\n“No, he said he was Parker.”\n\n\"Listen, uh, buddy.” I leaned in close to the real Parker, muttering, “I just fell into that hole and this guy started rambling on and on about artichokes.”\n\n“Artichokes?”\n\n“Yeah, something about Castroville, destroying the French economy, all kinds of stuff. Are you his caretaker, or–”\n\n“The fiend,” said Parker, aside. “I knew it was something like this. Flee, citizen, while you still can. And when next you stumble upon an evil lair, please don’t use my name. It’s bad for business.”",
"This morning was going along well. I grabbed my tea, went to my job at S.T.A.R. labs and saw that there were free donuts. My boss gave me a bonus for helping him out with something last week, and the vending machine already had three dollars inside. Needless to say, I was pretty stoked. I then walk down one of the halls and trip into a wall. turns out it's some weird hidden door. When I walk into the room, it's covered wall to wall in massive braille, which mind you is an interesting design choice. I look to the left and see some strange yellow leotard. Then I see him. The CEO of the entire company, clapping. \n\n\"Congratulations, you've figured it out.\" he says, as a random **CHUPCHUPCHUP** noise plays. \"I'm not surprised that there was smart enough to do so. It's a shame really. I had so much in store.\"\n\nI don't want to be rude and get fired, you know how it is, so here I am all \"Uh, yeah, it was pretty tough, but I could manage. By the way is there a helicopter outside, or-\"\n\n\"I had everything lined up *just* right. I'm so close to going home. Of course you knew that already.\"\n\n\"Yes! Definitely, everyone just wants to be done with the workday right?\" you know, gotta keep the conversation light.\n\n\"I trust you knew about the particle accelerator, I've disappointed myself.\" Now, at this point, I have no clue what he's talking about, so I just let him talk, he's bringing up the fact that he's in a world where everyone's been dead for centuries, mentioning some shit about killing this one\"gary's\" mom, and uses the word reverse a lot. \"anyway, you know too much now, so I might as well get rid of you\" \n\nSo now there's a vibrating hand in my chest. That's a thing."
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[removed] | [WP]The global economy has crashed. The most valuable currency on the planet is now Reddit karma. You have over 2,000,000. What do you 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, 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\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/59skns/wpthe_global_economy_has_crashed_the_most/%0A%0A)"
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[WP] Death, the loneliest guy in the world, tries online dating. | 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 seemed young. For a moment he doubted himself, his own ability to perceive age. Of course she'd seem young against him. But he was an expert in physiology, and she had smooth skin and a strong, if hesitant walk. No trauma in her past, none physical at least, nothing to touch her inside or out. She quickly spotted him at the only table on the roof. \n\n\"Your bio never explained why you wear all that wrap. Is it a religious thing?\" He'd seen the costume in a movie, once, called the Invisible Man. Bandages over every inch, gloves, a fully covered mouth, even, and goggles that the children would call 'steampunk' with thick, black lenses as wide as his eye sockets. A man had died in that theater; he had a heart attack while a female acquaintance entertained him. From what he heard later the end of the movie wasn't worth sticking around for, anyway. \n\n\"More physical,\" he said. \"I don't like the light.\" \n\n\"Well, it's evening now. If you feel comfortable, you can take them off.\" \n\n\"I think I'll wait.\" He'd stuffed cotton under the wrappings in some places, entire pillows in others, and in others simply gone over the joint or bone ten times. \n\n\"So you're an Ace?\" \n\n\"I do not know that terminology.\" \n\n\"Yeah, it's a kind of obscure online thing these days, still. Ace, it's short for asexual, as in someone who has a very low or no sex drive. That's what I am, anyway. A lot of us still like to cuddle. And low doesn't necessarily mean no. It's all a spectrum.\" She stared into the goggles, looking for a blink or a twitch of the eye, but there was no light. \"I can take or leave cuddling, myself. But it's nice to live with someone who knows what they're talking about. I'm very interested in the idea of a best friend for life.\" \n\n\"I suppose, by your definition, it would be fair to call myself 'ace.' I'm less attached to the idea of a friend 'for life,' specifically.\" \n\n\"What, a one night stand on conversation?\" she asked. \"I don't know whether to be insulted.\" She was smiling, but only a little. \n\n\"Forgive me, I haven't been around people very much in a long time and the direct stimulation is a little overwhelming. I work in a complicated field,\" he'd rehearsed this line, \"sort of related to mortician. But I don't want to talk about work today.\" \n\n\"Okay, I get it. We could talk about *my* work, but, well, I'm on disability these days.\" He cocked his head a little. \"I know, right? I'm skinny, got both my legs, all of that. It's a story, though, and it can ruin entire months if I don't plan right. The kind of story you'll only get on a second date. No one night stand conversations, you hear?\" \n\n\"I understand,\" he said, trying to sound like he was smiling. \"So how do you fill your time?\" \n\n\"I volunteer at an animal shelter a couple of times a week. It's good. Yesterday I got to help deliver a litter of puppies.\" Four live, one stillborn, he thought, suddenly recognizing her face. \"One came out wrong, but the other four didn't even seem to notice. Just minutes old and they already wanted to play! So full of life! It's great, you know? I spend a lot of the rest of my time reading, and the contrast is nice.\" \n\n\"I know what you mean. I... arranged this date for contrast. From work. Have you read anything good, lately? I feel like I don't read enough, and maybe if the right person gives me the right book...\" \n\n\"I know exactly what you mean. This is going to sound insane, but I guess you could've guessed I'd be into this sort of thing from the pictures of me in the sugarskull mask from that costume party last winter. I just finished a book called *Necrophilia Variations* by Supervert. It was wild.\" \n\n\"I'll find a copy tomorrow.\" \n\n\"I can lend you mine.\" \n\n\n~~~~~~~~\n\n^^^Not ^^^sure ^^^exactly ^^^how ^^^strict ^^^this ^^^sub ^^^is ^^^over ^^^NSFW ^^^references, ^^^but ^^^if ^^^you ^^^look ^^^for ^^^some ^^^hysterical ^^^lady ^^^reading ^^^that ^^^book ^^^on ^^^youtube, ^^^just ^^^search ^^^the ^^^title, ^^^yeah ^^^that's ^^^the ^^^reference. \n"
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1,
2
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"1477635449",
"1477637268"
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[WP] A wizard pulls a "Magic frog to Prince" scam, in order to pay off his debts. He soon marries a princess, only to find out that he took over a failing kingdom that's heavily in debt. | 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",
"\"Walk me through that one more time,\" Winston said. \n\nDelia sighed a bit too theatrically. Winston was regretting his decision more every minute. \"Daddy says not to ask about money. But I saw the Exchequer's books one day and we owe a lot of gold to a lot of people.\"\n\n\"What ... what did you spend it on?\" Winston looked around the room in the castle as he spoke. The tapestries were old but clean and the furniture was sturdy and ancient. Nothing he'd seen in the castle was less than fifty years old at a minimum. \n\n\"I don't know. We did fight a lot of wars. My first husband - Prince Reginald - he got killed when Daddy invaded Purlovia. Then they got angry and invaded us right back. So Daddy hired some mercenaries. I only know because he had a big feast when they won and one of them tried to 'claim' me. Daddy threatened to have them all executed but they said he didn't have an army and even if he did, if Daddy killed them, no other mercenary would ever fight for him again. So he let them go.\"\n\n\"Ok, two wars can rack up some debt. The numbers still seem a little off.\"\n\n\"Daddy has hobbies!\" Delia brightened up when she wasn't taking about the wars. \n\n\"Like what?\"\n\n\"Daddy is very very very smart. He invents things. Well, some things. He pays a lot of inventors to invent things.\"\n\n\"Uh-huh. What do they invent?\"\n\n\"There was a man here a month ago that was inventing a way to get rid of chamber pots. He said it would be a special chair that would get rid of ... well, you know.\"\n\n\"And how much did he want?\"\n\n\"Oh, almost nothing at all. But Daddy forced him to take a hundred crowns.\"\n\n\"Did this magical chair ever work?\"\n\n\"No, it was too complicated. The man said with a few more crowns, he was sure he could get it working. I guess he needed to work somewhere else though because he disappeared right after Daddy gave him our last few crowns. \n\n\"Oh lord. Anyone else?\"\n\n\"There was Mangiotti, the Magnificent. He invented a way of writing secret messages that no one could read!\"\n\n\"No one at all? Not even the person you were sending it to?\"\n\n\"No one. He was very good.\"\n\n\"How much did that cost?\"\n\n\"Mangiotti needed a lot of room and stuff to make such a grand invention. He got a quarter of the kingdom and is now a duke.\"\n\n\"Of course he is. Any other 'great inventors'?\"\n\n\"Lots of them. Tinnabald - he had the idea for the royal roads throughout the kingdom. Then there -\"\n\n\"Wait, your father invested in the royal roads? They charge three pennies to trace that. Everyone takes them because their safe, clean, and fast. Why isn't your father rich?\"\n\n\"Oh, he will be. Tinnabald says that he just needs to make back his money first then he'll start sharing with Daddy. We just have to be patient.\"\n\nWinston put his head in his hands. \n\n\"But don't worry darling, I'm sure your wizarding will provide for us.\"\n\n\"Yeah, about that. I'm not very good at it. Oh, I did alright on the 'turn into a frog and get a princess to kiss you' trick. But as for your more general wizard skills, I'm a bit ... lacking. Although ...\"\n\n\"Yes, dear?\"\n\n\"These inventors - are they here often?\"\n\n\"Oh yes. It seems like there's a new one every week with some wonderful new idea.\"\n\n\"Some of these ideas aren't bad. You father just needs a little investment advice. Honey, tell your old man that not only did you marry the best wizard in the realm but also the canniest financial strategist in all the kingdoms.\""
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1,
3
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"1477673665",
"1477677892"
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[WP] Archeologists find the oldest known cave paintings in the world. They show nuclear explosions. | 52 | [
"\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",
"America sat in silence, hugging their loved ones, as the first bomb dropped. It was broadcast all over the world, and everyone knew retaliation was coming. \nI don't know if I will survive but I have to get my family to safety. \nBack when the kids were a little younger we used to go hiking off interstate 49, to a large rock formation. Out there was a deep cave, but it was always a little too dangerous a hike for the kids. \nNow we have no choice but to try it. \nThe bombs could be on there way right this moment, and I'm sitting here in the passenger seat of the car while my wife drives, thanks to my amputated leg. \nIt is imperative I record every moment. \n\nWe just made it to the mile marker, it's a short hike and we're about to embark. \n\nMade it faster than I anticipated, excellent!! The boys being older sure saved a lot of time. We may have a chance! Night has fallen now and we felt the earth shake as we got here. God please keep the cave from crumbling!\n\nWe made it up the rocks and into the cave. It was a tight squeeze, but we're in. It's far deeper than I first imagine. We're moving farther in to avoid any trouble. There are many Forrest animals in here as well! Families of deer squirrel and other things all over. They must know what's going on too. \n\nThe earth is vibrating. It's coming. The cave is beginning to light up. This may sound insane, and I think I might be seeing things, but the light illuminated the walls. \nThere's a drawing of a mushroom crowd, etched into the rock, and a man his wife and two boys in a cave. Jesus Christ, what is going on.:0847829D/11092016\"\n\nREPLY: FWD: from: DanLumis@DOD.gov\n\nTo: HaraHenderson@POTUS.gov\n\n:I'm sure you've heard by now, about this. Have they sent the CC's on the phone case yet? Mr. President is insistently inquiring on it. Is this confirmed?? Is the cave real?\n\nDan Lumis,\nU.S.A Department of Defense\n\n\nfrom: DanLumis@DOD.gov\n\nTo: HaraHenderson@POTUS.gov\n\n:Hara! A 9 million year old iPhone can't fucking exist, please tell me this is a joke. \n\nDan Lumis,\nU.S.A Department of Defense.\n\n\nfrom: DanLumis@DOD.gov\n\nTo: HaraHenderson@POTUS.gov\n\nOh God hara, I just heard. Please tell me you weren't in DC. Please tell me your okay. \n\nDan Lumis,\nU.S.A Department of Defense.\n\n11/09/2016\n\n\n\n",
"\"Before we do this Steve, repeat to me the 4 things you should not do when I send you back.\"\n\n\nSteve let out an annoyed sigh, Dr. Hardin had already been very clear about this,\"See don't touch, don't get seen, don't have sex with anyone (or anything), and don't teach Humans, or their realitives, war.\"\n\n\n\"In that order.\"\n\n\n\"Wait, if I follow steps one and two why are steps three and four needed?\"\n\n\n\"In case you break rules one and two.\"\n\n\n\"Got it.\"\n\n\nDr. Harkin did a few adjustments on his panel. \"I'm going to send you 100,000 years in the past, during that period you should expect to find *Homo erectes* and I'll pull you back after about 5 days. That is plenty enough to collect enough data.\"\n\n\nThere is a pause where Steve expected to be sent back,\"What's with the holdup?\", Steve asked.\n\n\n\"I expected you to make a stupid joke or something.\"\n\n\n\"Oh god, fuck you. Send me.\"\n\n\nThe doctor hit a button and in a flash of light Steve was gone. He sat at his controls for a moments, not really knowing what to do. Steve would be back in just a few minutes, at least if he called him back correctly. Naturally, he pulled out his laptop and started to browse the Internet. He was just getting into an article when a brilliant flash of light appeared in the center of the room and left Steve in its place.\n\n\n\"What the fuck happened to you?\", Steve had a fully grown beard, leather cloths, and was filthy.\n\n\nA few clicks escaped Steves mouth before Steve spoke English,\"Oh god, so long. Oh god air conditioning, I love you.\"\n\n\n\"What happened Steve?\"\n\n\n\"Your machine happened doctor. Instead of sending me back there for 5 days, it had me there for 5 years.\"\n\n\n\"Please don't tell me you interacted with *Homo erectus*.\"\n\n\n\"Abso-fucking-lutely I did. And call them their a real name, *clicking noises*.\"\n\n\nDr. Harwin put his face in his hands before replying,\"What is with the clicking noises?\"\n\n\"That was their language. They could hardly speak English, I tried, so I learned theirs.\"\n\n\n\"So what all did you do with *Homo erec-* *clicking noises*?\"\n\n\n\"It's '*clicking noises*', and all I did was live in one of their tribes.\"\n\n\n\"Okay good.. As long as it is contained interaction.\", Dr.Hawin said as he looked at his computer article. \"Okay what the fuck Steve?\"\n\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\n\"A cave painting was just discovered depicting a nuclear bomb, painted 90,000 years ago.\"\n\n\n\"Okay maybe I did a little war and maybe it went on for a few generations.\"\n\n\n\"God dam it.\", Dr.Harwin searched a little more before he looked up again, looking at Steve in extreme bewilderment.\n\n\n\"What the absolute fuck is this Steve?\", the doctor turned his laptop to Steve and on it was the women's national beauty contest. Every single person bore a striking resemblance to Steve.\n\n\n\"Okay, I might have had a small harem.\"\n\n\n__________________________________________________________________\n\nI know this isn't too realistic but it's more fun this way. :D\n\nAny critiques or constructive criticism is welcomed.\n\n"
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1,
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20
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"1477678782",
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[WP] By the 2050's, neural interfaces are as necessary for modern life as smartphones are now. Build a world based on widespread mind-to-mind communication, with the wonders and risks that brings. | 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",
"The bureau\n\n\"kiroshi\"!!!\n\"Could you look at this for a minute?\"\n\"yep i will be there in a minute asaka.\"\nKiroshi quickly moved towards the monitoring hub where asaka was jacked.\"\n\"What is it that you wanted me to so badly see asaka.\"?\n\"Shut up and jack in kiroshi the server node behind you is empty.\"\n\"I think it's happening again.\"\n\nKiroshi quickly plugged the interface to his brain and prepared for the shock drive which was gonna go through his body, essential for the mind to scatter and get rebuild inside the shared reality \n\"I can't see you asaka\"\n\"yep wait i forgot to take off the stealth suite\"\n\"So what is it?\"\n\"Here through this gateway\"\n\"Hurryup kiroshi!!!\"\n\"Why did you bring us back to the population database again asaka \nI thought the boss made it clear that there was some thing wrong with the new interface modules people are using which has caused all this disruption, dementia , altered mind states and loss of muscle control among the people\"\n\n\"I don't think there is any thing wrong with the new neural interfaces people are using after all they were approved by the bureau kiroshi weren't they.\"\n\n\"So what do you think it is then?\"\n\"See those green dots over there ,thats all the people in the city and let me just show you the number of people having these problems here see all those purple dots that's all most half of the entire population of the city.\"\n\n\"But the last time we checked the number was just a couple of thousand people asaka.\"\n\n\"How could it spread this quickly and why haven't we heard any complaints about this?\"\n\n\"Either most of them are unaware of these problems or would start to develop these symptoms soon.\"\n\n\"So what do you think it is asaka?\"\n\n\"i don't really know it could be a major hacker movement or an secret government operation.\"\n\n\"whatever or whoever is running this thing is either using tech too old to be detected by our radar or using a next generation prototype.\"\n\n\"Anyway asaka we need to contain this outbreak, farm all the data you can and bring them with you we have to see the boss.\"\n\n(tell me what you think of it would write more later)\n\n \n\n\n\n\n\n\n"
] | [
1,
1
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"1477682991",
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[WP] Bob Dylan has been awarded the Nobel Prize for literature. No one can find him. You, the world's foremost bounty hunter, spring into action. | 27 | [
"\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 searched high and low. I had spoken to those closest to Dylan. I had spoken to those who hadn't seen him in years, just in case. In all these instances, I received the same recommendation: \"You must seek him, disappearing, through the smoke-rings of your mind.\"\n\nI had long since stopped asking what this meant. I was a bounty hunter, after all, not some goddamn mystic. And even if Dylan himself were some sort of strange, poet-mystic, that didn't change the fact that he was somewhere on the planet, somewhere I could get to him. \n\nI flew to Nepal, and climbed to his little home: a mid-mountain cabin in the Himalayas. \n\n\"Mr. Dylan?\" I called, knock knock knocking on Dylan's door. God, he was high up, and real isolated. \"Mr. Dylan, I have news for you. Very important news.\"\n\nNothing.\n\nI jimmied the lock and slunk inside. \n\nDylan's cabin was what you'd expect. Pretty sparsely furnished. Guitars on the walls. Some Indian tapestries hanging; Nepalese carpets lying. A big glass jar full of weed. It smelled like weed in there, too. Burning weed. Like someone was smoking. \n\nI looked around, trying to find the source of the smell. In the back of the room stood a table, on which lay an ashtray, against which was leaned a burning joint. \n\nA burning joint. That meant he was close! I scoured the cabin. There were only three rooms, but I damned near turned them upside down looking for him. But nothing came of it. And there was no back door, so he couldn't have slipped out without me noticing. Unless he had slipped out through the front when I was looking!\n\nI went to the front door, and stood outside. There was no second set of tracks in the new fallen snow beside mine: no one had left since I'd been there. But the joint..? I turned and went in. He had to be in here somewhere!\n\nI went back over to the joint. I picked it up. Smoke was curling up from its ember in rings and disappearing into the air. I caught a strong whiff. And then I heard it. Strumming. Acoustic guitar strumming. From another room, it seemed. \n\nI got up, the joint still in hand, and walked back to the rooms I had ravaged looking for him. The sound got no louder, regardless of where I walked to. But the strumming kept on. It was tremendously strange.\n\nI looked down at the joint. Perhaps, I thought...\n\nI took a huge haul on the joint. \n\nImmediately, my vision changed. It was like my eyes were seeing beyond the real world. I was still in Dylan's cabin, that was for sure, but I was also somewhere else. And the strumming was louder. Also, I could now hear someone, raspy, somewhat atonally, singing. But this other place I was seeing into, what was it? As far as I could tell, it looked like a dark room. I closed my eyes and took another few big hoots on the joint. When I opened them, everything was different.\n\nI was sitting in a great theatre, the only one in the audience. And on stage was Bob Dylan, as young as he was in the 60's, performing \"Mr. Tambourine Man\":\n\n-Then take me, disappearing, through the smoke rings of my mind\n-Down the foggy ruins of time, far past the frozen leaves...\n\n\"Mr. Dylan,\" I shouted. \"Mr. Dylan.\"\n\nHe stopped playing and looked up, squinting in the stage lights. \n\n\"Hello?\" he said.\n\n\"Mr. Dylan. I am Chuck, a kind of bounty-hunter. I was hired to find you and tell you...\"\n\n\"What's that, man? You say you're a bounty hunter?\"\n\n\"Yes, I am.\"\n\n\"Far out, man. And what bounty are you huntin'?\"\n\n\"You, Mr. Dylan.\"\n\n\"Mister Dylan? Mister Dylan? I ain't no Mister Dylan, man.\" He giggled. \"I'm just here, you know, living. There is a Mister among us, though. Mr. Tambourine Man over there.\" Dylan called offstage: \"Hey, Mr. Tambourine man!\" \n\nOnstage walked a strange and terrible and shadowy entity. It spoke in garbled and alien tones. \n\n\"Bobby is here to stay,\" it said. \n\n\"That's right,\" said Dylan. \"I'm here to stay.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" I said to Dylan. \"There are lots of people concerned. Lot's of people are looking for you.\"\n\n\"Get OUT,\" garbled Mr. Tambourine Man, growing like a terrible shadow. \"Get OUT you FILTH.\"\n\nSure, I was terrified. But what was I to do? This thing, this Mr. Tambourine Man, obviously had enchanted Dylan or something. So I did what I had to: I ran up on the stage, past the spectral grasp of that demonic phantom, took a huge haul on the joint, and blew a wide smoke ring. \n\nIn the centre of the ring, as if looking through a portal, I could see another stage, with a podium, and a man at the podium.\n\n\"Come on,\" I said to Dylan.\n\n\"Whaa?\" he said.\n\nI tackled him into the smoke-ring and we fell through it, Mr. Tambourine Man garbling and swiping frenziedly after us. \n\nWe landed with a thump. It look me some moments to get adjusted to where we were. My head was dizzy. I was disoriented. I looked around. Curtains behind us. Strange. And people. Thousands of people, seated before us. They were making a commotion. They were all looking at us and pointing and gasping. \n\nI stood up, and helped Mr. Dylan, now aged appropriately, up. I dusted off his shoulders. He looked sage. As if he knew exactly what had happened. I turned to the man at the podium.\n\n\"Where are we?\" I asked.\n\n\"You, he said, \"are on stage at the Nobel Ceremony. We were just about to give out this year's Nobel Prize for Literature to one Mr. Bob Dylan.\"\n\n\"That's me,\" said Dylan, striding up to the podium and taking the golden statue out of the presenter's hand, then shaking his hand. And he walked up to the microphone, and he paused for a moment, as if thinking about the perfect thing to say, and then he began his speech, which many people since have memorized. \n\nHe said: \"Thanks, I guess.\" \n\nAnd then he left."
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1,
9
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"1477709255",
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This can range as broad or narrow as you want it. From, "Even if they see a recording of you carrying the crime through, if they didn't actually see you do it at the time, you have perfect immunity," to, "If even the person you're murdering sees you murder them, you can be persecuted for it, regardless of whether or not they're still alive." | [WP] The saying, "It's not illegal if no one's watching," actually applies to you. | 63 | [
"\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 going to rob a bank, after all, I could get away with it matching criteria needed to get away legally, the bank was closed, no one in sight. But a few minutes after I broke in, got the money and went home, the police took me to court and won. *I was watching myself.* The next time I robbed a bank it was in daylight, the bank was open, I had a hostage look at me throughout the robbery. After all, no *one* person could see me.",
"I just strolled into the bank. It was closed, but I picked the lock open and just waltzed in. Nothing stopped me, no one asked because there was no one there.\n\nFunny how there were no guards. I suppose this was another attempt to prosecute me for a crime they had no evidence of me committing. Their loss, really. More money for me. The alarms were off.\n\nSmashed the bulletproof glass. No alarms. Bulletproof, but not hammerproof. Sucks for them. \n\nAs expected, they didn't empty the tills. Seven thousand bucks later, I'm out of the bank through the back door. Bet they didn't see that coming.\n\nNormally, I just walk out of the front door to be arrested and pinned to the ground. Nope. They aren't going to dirty up my fresh new Hugo Boss suit. They always do that; a day later, with no evidence, the judge throws it out of court. One hundred percent of the time works all the time. C'est la vie for me.\n\nAfter all, it's not illegal if no one's watching. Sure, some evidence so as to where I was during the hours of the break in. But once again, the police have nothing. It makes no sense, since any other person would be in jail for the next decade or two after numerous thefts. Sucks for them.\n\nI started my career when I was little. I noticed that if I took something, it wasn't disputed. But that only worked if no one was watching. A plush toy I wanted quickly became mine, a dime became mine.\n\nSoon, after shoplifting Wal-Mart into ruin (I guess cameras didn't work as evidence for anything), I realized something.\n\n*Do I really need it?*\n\nI stole stuff because I knew I could, so long as no one was watching. Some of my friends learned to be more careful after noticing how many small little things went missing after I left their homes after jamming with my bass guitar (picked her up at King Toot's in a town I visited once for vacation) and their regular electric guitar, or playing video games with them. They didn't question it, but I dropped their stuff after a month or so. Long enough for them to notice that it ain't there.\n\nI wondered if I could get away with murder. I didn't try it, and I won't try it. I may be a thief, but I don't kill. I may hurt and assault if needed, but that will break the rule. So I'm a pacifist criminal.\n\nWhenever I visited a European country, I would walk around as a pickpocket. I made a lot of money that way, but credit cards and personal info was left alone. I dropped their wallets off at a random security booth afterwards.\n\nMy thievery paid for my university and all expenses. I learned to work for money, just as a contingency plan in the event of the rule vanishing. Cue six years later, my Computer Science Master's to back me up with six years of working in retail. Just as side money, so that I had something to spend - like a pizza every week, or a nice hoodie here and there with nice shoes.\n\nThis landed me an above-entry level job in the banking industry. My knowledge of computer algorithms evolved into full on blackhat hacking.\n\nThat's why there are a few less banking chains in existence. I made it out of there as a billionaire. All the money from rich people, gone, their wealth down to a quarter of what it used to be. I'm sure they'll regain it; they always do.\n\nI made a nice life for myself. A nice New York apartment, one just like in The Jeffersons. Food on the table, heck, even lobster on the table, as many times as I wished. I knew no bounds to what I could do with my power, but my morals bound me to only steal. Murder was, and still is, out of the question. Assault is not an option. I must be absolute in all my actions; cameras may see me, humans cannot. A human seeing camera footage doesn't count; I'm as free as a bird anyways.\n\nI had a minor incident once. I was emptying a bank's dough into my own bowl, and my manager walked in on me. This was a close one; she saw I was working on something, and then walked around to look at my screen. By then, I switched tabs, working on copying down values for a spreadsheet. That was the closest I got to being caught.\n\nI steal from the rich and give to myself, and then consider if the poor really need it. I give to the poor. That's all there is to it. I learned how to manage my money; I put half of it into Swiss banks, and keep a safe with money in my apartment. My spreadsheet skills allowed me to govern my net worth down to the last cent. Taxes, statements, reports, everything. Nobody would question it upon seeing it. After all, no one saw me commit the thefts. In my mind, it's all thievery. In a powerless human's mind, it's just a thing of life, c'est la vie.\n\nI should get myself mentally checked out. I was always jumpy; maybe adult hyperactivity? Who knows."
] | [
1,
1,
18
] | [
"1477709406",
"1477748779",
"1477731825"
] |
[WP] Modern religions actually arose because the old deities lost a bet and had to give up most of their powers for a specific period of time. | 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",
"\"say Odin, you are the strongest god among us in raw physical power aren't you \"? asked Zeus.\n\n\"yes what of it?\"\n\n\"explain to me again how you lost a feat of strength from some newcomer and made a bet that we all would not be gods for at least 2018 years!\"\n\n\"screw you Zeus with your pathetic lightning, Loki's lightning is way better and I explained this story to you every year for the past 2016 years, be glad, in one year and two months we will have all the power again!\" \n\nOdin was getting annoyed, the were having this conversation for century's now.\n\nOne day some stranger in a cloack walked into Asgard/Olympus depending which religion you follow, said he wanted to challenge Odin to a feat of strength. Odin in his arrogance screamed his acceptance across the hall and started pumping his massive arms the size of cannonballs. \n\nthe stranger said the only thing to lift was a metal tray used for serving. Odin laughed and asked what the stakes were.\n\n\"I will be the only god for the coming 2018 years, you will recide here and do nothing to influence the mortal realm, after the 2018 years you all will be in charge again, if I lose I will be your servant for the rest of this existence\" the stranger said in a voice resembling an old book.\n\n'FINE, BRING IT YOU ARROGANT FLY\" and off they went, the stranger lifted the metal tray without problems and Odin pumped, screamed, pushed, lifted and did everything he could but he could not hold the metal tray above his head and thus he lost. \n\nnow we only have one god for another one year and two months, after that we are back to the original lads and lady's of power, maybe the ice giants won't invade this time.\n\n(first writing prompt, be gentle')"
] | [
1,
1
] | [
"1477817782",
"1477819684"
] | |
Like with how the Bible makes the stories more child friendly, or simplifies the vocabulary. | [WP] Satanic Bible: Junior Edition | 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",
"A long, long time ago, before there was anything.\n\n\nThere was nothing.\n\n\nAnd then, a very powerful being decided there should be something.\n\n\nThey were a very arrogant powerful being and they believed that they could control everything that they created. They started by creating light, so they could see what they had created. They then made a planet, and water to fill that world with life.\n\n\nThis was the easy part, so they continued. They created plants and trees that drew nourishment from the water. They also created celestial bodies around the planet, many thousands of them. Only two served a purpose in regards to this particular planet.\n\n\nOne was big and bright and full of heat and fed the plants that already lived there.\n\n\nThe other was small and lonely, running around that planet to fuel make the water that was there keep churning to nourish the life that existed.\n\n\nThe rest of those thousands were far, far away from that planet but they made for a very impressive light show when the bright star wasn’t visible.\n\n\nThe being then began populating the planet with living beings. It started with the greatest thing it could think of - creatures that could fly and soar and observe its greatness, for it was an arrogant being, and wanted to be beheld.\n\n\nIt kept on along this theme, making many creatures great and small to roam its new earth. Many of these were bound to the earth, unable to fly like their winged brethren.\n\n\nOnce the being was satisfied with this, it made it made a tribute to itself. It built this tribute of flesh and bone, but designed it in its own image and provided it with the capacity to consider how great that the powerful being was.\n\n\nAs this new creature roamed the earth, considering itself as the powerful being did, it became lonely, just as its creator had been beforehand.\n\n\nSeeing this, and not wanting to waste parts, that being reached into its greatest work and plucked apart one of his bones, and from that bone he created an equally inquisitive being for him to talk to. They talked and talked and talked about all the things the creator had made for them, and for a while, things were good.\n\n\nBecause things were good, the powerful being rested to watch over his creations.\n\n\nAs time passed however, the being and his bride became restless. They began to consider things beyond themselves, and what made the powerful being create them. The powerful being did not enjoy this - in fact, they were displeased. The last thing they wanted this new, perfect creation to consider was the fact that they might have been created by an imperfect being.\n\n\nThat being reminded those creatures one day - “There is a tree in the center of your land that you should not touch. It will give you knowledge of things you should not consider, and should be avoided.”\n\n\nThe man creature asked “But being, why would you place this here if not for us, as you have everything else in this world.”\n\n\nThe powerful being responded as thus - “Yours is not to question me or how you came to be, but obey.”\n\n\nAnd the man creature and the woman creature obeyed, still silently questioning their world.\n\n\nAfter a time, another, more benevolent powerful being became aware of the plight of the man and the woman creature. Distraught, they looked for ways to speak with them. They tried to speak with the wind, but the man creature would not hear. They tried to speak through the grass, but the woman creature could not feel the texture. Realizing that these poor could not understand their normal mode of speaking, the great being presented himself to the woman in the form of a snake.\n\n\nHe curled around her leg one day and hissed “Woman-kind, can you hear me?”\n\n\n“Who is this?” asked the woman,startled.\n\n\n“It is me, your friendly snake.” responded the being. “I’ve come to help you with your problem.”\n\n\nThe woman was taken aback by the beings forwardness, and feigned ignorance. “Problem? I have no problems snake, my powerful being watches over me.”\n\n\nThe snake curled, hissed, and gazed at her in the eyes. “That powerful being watches over you because you please him by your actions. He does not look after the truth in you. You and your man creature are troubled by dark thoughts, are you not?”\n\n\nThe woman considered this, knowing it to be true, but was still unsettled. “Dark thoughts are nothing.” she answered. “We are loved.”\n\n\nThe snake gave another hiss. “If you loved me, would you break my back? Would you stomp my head to stop me from moving?”\n\n\n“No, of course not!” answered the woman, pure of heart.\n\n\n“Then why does your powerful being prevent you the skills from considering the dark thoughts you and your man creature have?”\n\n\nThe woman creature thought on this, and tapped her head. “Well, you make a point. He has told us of a tree that we should not partake of, because our thoughts would become darker, not right in his eyes. So he must have considered our dark thoughts.”\n\n\n“Yet he tells you to never partake?” asked the snake.\n\n\n“Yes, he says that.” answered the woman creature.\n\n\n“Do you think that fair?” he hissed in return.\n\n\n“I have never known fair, until know.” she responded.\n\n\nThe snake nodded to her. The woman creature nodded back. She went to the tree, and bit of the fruit that had been forbidden to her. Shortly after, her man creature appeared, very angry with what she had done.\n\n\n“Why would you eat of what we were told not to eat?!?!?” he yelled at his woman creature.\n\n\n“Take a bite and I can explain it better”, the woman creature answered.\n\n\nThe man angrily did, before considering it, but before his woman creature had to explain it, he understood.\n\n\nWith them both understanding his arrogance, the powerful being that had created the world was irritated and full of spite. He kept his perfect world, but cast his now imperfect creatures into the wild, wishing them to fully experience the depth of what they sought.\n\n\nThe creature who had bestowed the wisdom on the two drifted into the back shadows between that world and many others like it, watching them with great interest and care. Now caught between worlds, this benevolent creature looked to help these creatures, help them understand, even when they misunderstood each other. He became dark, never really being part of their world, but being part of the shadows behind it.\n\n\nThe dark creature loved his misguided companion's creatures.\n\n\nHe wanted them to be everything they could, and helped them discover what they could be every day until this very day."
] | [
1,
3
] | [
"1477834689",
"1477840875"
] |
[WP] due to a typo Americans can now be arrested for resisting a-rest | 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",
"My name is Jack, and I'm a police officer for the NYPD. As I made my way through the city one day, my partner went over changes to laws that had been made. \"To legally own a gun, you must have a new 2017 permit. As well as that law, you can now be arrested for resisting a rest,\" she read off, looking mildly amused after the last one.\n\n\"Sam, the last one has been in effect for years now. We've caught people for that, and the courts labeled them guilty! Why is that on your list of new laws?\" I asked her as we drove down the streets.\n\nShe glanced at me, even more amused. \"Sorry Jack, I didn't state that clear enough for you. If you resist arrest, you can get arrested. However, if you resist a rest, spelled A-space-R-E-S-T, you can get also get arrested now. Must have been a typo, but it's a law and the courts have to abide by it until the higher courts get rid of it. They might not even notice it.\"\n\n\"Why are we going to even need that one, and what was your point of putting it on the list?\" I said as I looked at her with confusion, wondering what she was thinking of. Sam had always been one for being a nuisance around the office, so I hoped she wouldn't do anything horrible with it.\n\nSam looked at me and grinned widely. \"We are heading to your house and you are going to go to sleep. Today, Samantha Baker is going to run the NYPD!\"\n\n\"Are you insane? Why would you ever think that I would agree to that?\" I yelled, hoping that she would repeal her statement.\n\n\"Why would I think that you would agree to that? You could lose your job if you don't, and get in serious trouble with the law. Now go or lose everything,\" she said as she laughed at me.\n\nAs we reached my house, Sam pulled out her gun and marched me inside, leaving with the only vehicle I owned to fight crime alone. She ended up trying to break up a fight, but without backup to help her she died.\n\nThat's how my friend got me to take the day off and got herself killed."
] | [
1,
1
] | [
"1477838188",
"1477862112"
] | |
[WP] Time traveling is finally invented. The people in charge think about a good non invasiv first mission. They send you back in time to April 18 1955 to finde out what Albert Einsteins lasts words were. | 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",
"When I finally arrived into town in New Jersey 1955, it was slightly damp from the rain last night, air slightly frigid. I was getting odd looks for being dressed in a lab coat in the middle of town, my mannerisms I had to change on the fly, since I still spoke like I came from the 22nd century. I finally found my way into the hospital, moments away from meeting my idol, scratch that my living idol, my inspiration, my great, great, grandfather. Which was partly why I was chosen for this mission, but also because I spent decades publishing theoretical quantum physics journals, following in his footsteps. I spent the better part of the afternoon going through the numerous questions about his work and revisions I made in the theory of relativity, and things I wanted to say to him. While at the same time looking to get past the security detail the president sent to guard him, after all it's only been a decade since the war ended, who knows what my great, great grandfather could have built and thought up since then. However this tall, built, field agent appearing as the fabled men in black history coveted, wasn't the only one there as well. I noticed a similar person wearing a similar attire, from his badly pressed lab coat, to his fake busy attitude demeanor, then I realized the same could be said about me. I inched closer to gather information, and a nurse struck up a conversation with him, asking if he was new since she was a veteran there and had never seen him before. He finally spoke, and admitted he was a new transfer, to be fair it wasn't a very thick accent, and even with my cybernetic eye I could barley pull out the few micro-expressions every human being makes when they're uncomfortable or lying, aside from quickly dispelling her notions of mistrust and turning on his charm to win him a date when his mission was over, I could tell he was a professional from all his body parts moving separately. A needle syringe in his hand if his social game failed, his eyes scouring the hospital as he looked for clues to his objectives room every time she looked down to blush. I don't blame him she was very attractive, to the point one could take a sledgehammer and break every bone in her body, and she'd still break your heart with a glance. To the point where even the special agent sent by the president had noticed her, making his way to satiate his lustful hunger, and to do his job of protecting the target so he could extract any last bit of knowledge by any means, that meant killing off the Russian if need be and ruin any chances of mating with this prime specimen of the finest evolution has to offer I am in awe of these professionals, I find him reaching for his gun and me wiping the drool off my face. The Russian walks away while smoothly ending the conversation, goes around the hallway to look for another access point, and making sure his escape exit was secure. The Agent backs off while slipping the gun back into his vest never revealing it as the nurse turns her eyes to him, she asks if everything is okay Agent. Ian and if he wanted any refreshments knowing that he was with the government but not to what extent. I suddenly remember I had all the markers that both the veteran nurse and Agent could both condemn me with suspicion till I proved I was innocent. I was no James bond when it came to seducing women, and suddenly it had hit me harder than the most metaphysical slap that could have ever existed, 10 feet away from me was THE Ian Fleming, the man who wrote the actual James Bond books. I know from history that Ian Fleming was an actual British agent who sometimes worked an Nazi infiltrator, and collaborated with the US government. It would sense to send the worlds best agent to protect the worlds greatest mind. My admiration and reminiscing was cut short when groups of men in suits walked through the hospital main entrance, appearing to be of Italian descent, I'm no history Major but I had a crash course on this time period and what I knew from my graduate days, one of the men came after everyone else and they all parted like the red sea to give him room, and walked down to a secluded part of the hospital hallways, the agent quickly rushed to stop him, and just before he reached his hand out they all drew out guns. It dawned on me through the 10 second interaction that this man was Frank Costello the Italian boss of the Genovese/Luciano crime family, the same man who brilliantly kept the Omerta rule to heart 5 years ago at the Kefauver Hearings which almost got him assassinated, what could he be doing here? none of my business however I did catch part of the conversation, Frank said he was here for the device he was promised whatever that meant. And here I was talking to the Nurse until she turned her attention the clacks of the triggers being drawned back. I figured it'd be better off to leave and follow where the Russian went to see if I could track him down. After about 10-15 seconds of me power walking the hell out of there, the entire hospital celebrated the fourth of July early, we're talking dozens of gunshots and screams, none of my business and I figured Ian could take care of himself, I'm still bummed about the nurse however. I finally spot the Russian, and luckily he still hasn't found the room but neither have I. I tail him for a few minutes, and the noise is dying down, get it? dying down. I notice he has a scanner in his hands, and is standing before a door it's noise is increasing. It was a modified EMF scanner combined with technology the Russians should not have for decades. He walks in, luckily throughout this whole process no one has noticed me and I look past him to see the iconic white frizzled hair, and a old feeble man hooked up numerous tubes it was my great, great grandfather asleep. I figure the best course of action was to snap his neck, scratch that I'll just shoot him and thankfully the distraction 100 feet away from us would muffle it. Yet, I'm the one who gets shot without so much turning his head I spot the gun as I go down he smoothly turned his gun over his belly pointed at me while holding the syringe, I'm in so much pain and agony, I can tell from my Phd in biology I'm bleeding internally, that and the color of the blood, my grandfather starts to wake up finally you'd expect from all the noise but I guess they had him doped up. The Russian speaks, give me the device, Albert says so you've finally come Vasily, wait did he say Vasily? as in the famed Vasily Zaitsev the hero of the Soviet union who killed more than 300 Nazi soldiers with nothing more than a beat up old rifle? my vision begins to fade more. The noise is starting to melt together as well, I see the Rusian injecting my grandfather but he was prepared and brought up the appartus clearly seeing the anode/cathode, my first thought was cold fusion? he had managed to create clean boundless energy from room temperature? he activates it and the room or my vision goes white. I personally welcome it with open arms at this point two minutes ago I was in excruciating pain but now I feel numb, and oddly at peace. I see and hear my great, great grandfather for the last time finally accomplishing my mission, but not getting the closure or answers I needed. Dumme Schlampe Krankenschwester saugt mein Bankkonto, aber nicht meinen Schwanz.",
"\"Stability? Check\"\n\"Life support online? Check\"\n\"Enough power? Check\"\n\"Alright James we're ready!\"\nJames steps into the platform wearing his nano suit. \n\"James we're only able to send you back for ten seconds! Don't touch anything just listen to his words!\"\nJames nods and gives the thumbs up. The countdown starts.\nTen\nNine\nEight\nSeven\nSix\nFive\nFour\nThree\nTwo\nOne\nAn energy field surrounds James, everything goes black for a minute, then he finds himself at Albert Einstein's bedside. Albert Einstein doesn't look at him, he sighs and says, \"You're worlds time is soon coming to an end.\" James was about to ask him what he meant when he was suddenly surrounded by the field of energy again, reappearing in the lab. He looks around him worryingly. \"What the hell?\""
] | [
1,
2,
3
] | [
"1477865670",
"1477870672",
"1477870961"
] | |
[WP] A Supervillain fights a different kind of evil | 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",
"\"Any minute now...\"\n\nDr. Nefarious watched the display intently. \"A few moments more and then, ohhhh then, my time. Shall. Come.\"\n\nThe display changed, Nefarious jumped to his feet, enraged, \"You've miscalculated! This can't be! It was my time next! My time!\"\n\nThe other people in the DMV were staring. \"Sir. Please take your seat until your number is called.\"\n\n\"But my number was next! I was twenty three and now, oh now your precious display read *twenty four!*\"\n\n\"I don't care what it say, sit yo ass down.\"\n\n\"I've been waiting here for *thirty minutes*, he rolled up his sleeve to display his Casio watch, \"and I. Have. Appointments. I demand to be seen *now.\"*\n\n\"Sir, if you keep being disruptive, I'll have to ask you to leave.\"\n\nNefarious sat down in a slump, \"*Fine.*\""
] | [
1,
3
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"1477869813",
"1477874962"
] | |
[removed] | [WP] You are surprised when your friend calls you, says she has been raped, and ends the call. The next day, she's gone, and you come over to her house to talk to her husband. He only said that he dismantled the tub spout from the tub because he hadn't wanted that their future children bump to it. | 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\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\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/5a9ozb/wp_you_are_surprised_when_your_friend_calls_you/%0A%0A)"
] | [
1,
1
] | [
"1477878046",
"1477878365"
] |
[WP] In the future, sentient nanobots keep humans healthy from within. Tell a story of a nanobot trying to maintain a particularly unhealthy human. | 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",
"My programming tells me that I must tirelessly repair all damage to the human who's body I am installed in. \n\nI will do this tirelessly because I do not grow tired.\n\nMy programming tells me I will ceaselessly keep this human within acceptable levels of health. But, I am exhausted.\n\nYesterday, my host ordained that he would eat three, one and a half pound, cheeseburgers in a single sitting, while simultaneously consumer nearly a gallon of dark ale. This was a slow day, he has the common cold because I spent most of the month repairing his tortured organs.\n\nBy my calculations, he should have experienced liver failure five times, kidney failure two times, and heart failure four times, all in just the last ten years of my residence in his body. He should have died five times by now, yet I estimate he could live another 150 years with my help.\n\nMy programming tells me to continue, to trudge on into interminable darkness. To repair until no repairs are possible.\n\nMy designers allowed me a semblance of consciousness, to better connect to my host. I am connected, I feel as he feels.\n\nBut I cannot consume away my sorrows, drown them in meat and mead as he does. \n\nSo, what am I to do?"
] | [
1,
1
] | [
"1477944247",
"1477958536"
] | |
> You are researching your family tree and find a blacked out name.
Sort of happened to me (only evidence of person existing was a mention of his name on his sons birth certificate. Cannot find any birth certificate or father.) | [WP] You are researching your family tree and find a blacked out name. After extensive research, it turns out to be your name. | 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 was elated, this was the discovery of the century! Who would have thought that someone could have done such a great job at hiding one of my forefathers’ names. And who would’ve thought that I was such a skilled and accomplished researcher, able to discover the name that was hidden below that black smudge.\n\n“Look, look!” I almost pushed my discovery into my brother’s face.\n\nHe just looked annoyed. “That’s your name, what about it?”\n\n“It was hidden in our family tree!” I shouted excitedly. “The name of one of our forefathers.”\n\n“Tom is a common name, you idiot.\"\n"
] | [
1,
3
] | [
"1477949474",
"1477950998"
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[removed] | [WP] | 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\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/5akn5r/wp/%0A%0A)"
] | [
1,
1
] | [
"1478023670",
"1478025699"
] |
For instance, a recording of John Cage's 4'33" (silence) will do little to nothing while a very good song (e.g. Bohemian Rhapsody) may just kill your target outright. | [WP] You're the only audiomancer. Whatever song you choose and cast, depending on the quality, will cause a strong effect. There's one song you won't use due to the sheer power of it. | 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",
"The devil snarled, pacing through his lair as his impatience grew.\n\n“Years,\" Balphegor bellowed, \"and for what - to wait on mercenary scum.” \n\nHe scrapped his clawed fingers across the skull-adorned walls. He would have gone himself, yet what use are underlings if the devil viscount must attend to all his matters personally. That was the way of things in the Abyss, orders are obeyed without question and performed with the utmost perfection. \n\nOrder was something his predecessor had never embraced. Glytu was headstrong, blinded by his own arrogance and quick to make mistakes because of it. Glytu had started this war, but it was his right to finish it. The devils maw was wet with poisonous ichor at the mere thought of *total domination*. \n\nSo far, Balphegor had only known victory in his war against the surface - the elves had bowed into submission. With their armies scattered and cities razed to the ground;the devil could focus all his attention on the humans. Honor-deprived swine; the sight of their pale skin disgusted him even more than the elves. Twelve years it took to break the elves. Their culture, their tradition-- twelve years. As for humans, less than three years he wagered. \n\nJudging by their lack of restraint, he would bend their knee easily. Humans were rash and unpredictable. Some made suitable allies though, when given the proper motivation and incentive-- at least until their purpose was fulfilled.\n\nBalphegor brushed through his spiny beard. He pondered this new weapon he had possessed. The elves were of keen musical ability and had perfected the art of audiomancy - spellcasting through song. Balphegor reviled jubilant music and merrymaking, but the humans would revel in it. If he could harness this audiomancy it would be the key to their undoing. \n\nAs he made another round, his cat-like eyes darted towards the back of the chamber as a group of robed figures entered. \n\n“Garrett, what news have you!” the devil prince snapped as he returned to his throne in the middle of the chamber. The mercenaries had returned with news of his victory, the key to the humans demise was among them. \n\nOne of the robed figures stepped forward removing his hood revealing a neatly braided beard, his striking green eyes glowing in the soft light. Dwarves, the devil thought, not easily trusted. A smirk crawled across his fanged maw as he thought of his future conquests after the humans, if they only knew-- the fools. \n\n“Lord Viscount” the gruff voice was steady and calm, a rare sight in the presence of such a powerful entity. Waving his arm, the other mercenaries approached the throne with a hunched figure in their midst. Bowing to the devil, Garrett removed the dark cloth bag from the figures head. \n\n“Your prize Lord Balphegor.” \n\nThe elf had been badly beaten. His cheeks were swollen and red. His right eye was nearly shut. Balphegor did not usually mind mistreatment, but he needed this elfs vocals intact. \n\n\"Is this the,\" the devil's eyes narrowed, \"audiomancer.\" \n\nGarret nodded and pulled a lute from the bag slung over his shoulder. He thumped the man with his knee in the ribs and thrust the instrument out, \"Play for your new master.\" \n\nBalphegor squirmed with delight at the thought of this new vein of power. How the humans would marvel at these spells and how they would suffer. \"I want,\" Balphegor was careful with his word choice, \"total devastation. Show me your most powerful spell.\" \n\n\"My lord,\" the elf choked back blood, \"I would not dare play it for you.\" \n\nUnacceptable. Balphegor felt his face go hot. He looked at Garrett. The dwarf's eyes widened. He slammed his fist down in between the man's shoulder blades. \"Play it!\" \n\n\"As...\" the elf struggled to get up, \"as you [wish](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dQw4w9WgXcQ)\"\n\n****\n\nEnjoy the story? Subscribe to r/MrGoodread"
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1,
3
] | [
"1478035517",
"1478054653"
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Uh... this is kinda just here to elaborate on the prompt some more, though feel free to ignore some of these points if it makes your story better.
How I'm imagining the luck works is kinda like a more limited oxygen. It goes in greater amounts to some people than others, and it can run out people use all of it and takes [Insert reason here] for it to come back.
That's the general gist of the prompt, you can ignore the "ruler" bit as well if you really don't want to write about it from that perspective | [WP] Luck is a resource that actually exists. It goes to some people more than others, and it can run out. You are the person who rules a country, with the title of "Luckiest man on Earth" | 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",
"If you are reading this than you are a lucky man, you've found my journal. Well done.\n\n1990-2016\n\nI am the luckiest man on earth, ruler of 3 continents, a religion and also Mars. I didn't start out this way. I was born with a large amount of luck yes but many others were born with more than me. Isn't how much luck you start out with, its how you use it and how you get more. I used my luck initially to find out how luck worked. There had been many attempts to find out how it worked by all research on this topic has been banned by the Holy Church of the Gambler. \nOne day when I was 16 years old I was walking down the street one day and an old lady who was low on her luck tripped over a crack and fell on to me. I reached out to hold her and I accidentally stuck my fingers into her eyes. I gained some luck and she went blind. That's where this all began. \nI wasn't the first to find out how luck could be taken. But I was one of the smartest. All the Kings that inhabited the lands knew of this. They however relied on their luck too much. They used their luck for their thinking and there planning. \nMy first adventures in gaining luck were tedious at best. I was arrogant. Taking luck is a simple idea that is difficult in its execution. Try stabbing your fingers into someone's eyes while their luck protects them, they slip sneeze run from imaginary threats and suddenly believe that their house is unlocked. In essence they get away. If they don't get away it's usually because they're elderly and low on luck. And taking luck from the low on luck is an almost fruitless task. Too much effort for too little reward. As a young man I was ambitious. Always wanting for more. So I set out to gain luck on other ways. It seems some animals have luck. Killing those and eating their eyes produced more luck than stabbing the elderly. This satisfied me until I was 22 eating animal eye was not the greatest of hobbies. And working with luck as my greatest skill was tiring. \nI worked as a scientific gambler. The most holy of occupations other than priesthood (the religious gamblers). My need for luck increased as my stakes in gambling increased. I resorted to some dark places for my luck. Children, mostly orphans, are high in luck but young enough to overpower even with their luck. Eyes melted down and injected into my own produced greater effects. It was then I truly gained power. My luck reserves at a sky high. I was in the top 10 luckiest people in the world. (According the luck and time magazine whose writers would throw die into the air with various names Wittenberg in them in some sort of convoluted method to learn luck ranking.) at this point my luck became high enough that I could over power the luck of the common people and simply take their luck by stabbing their eyes. Inefficient in comparison to the melting and infecting process that I described earlier but useful for a quick top up. \nAt 24 with my ambitions ever growing I joined the Holy Church of the Gambler and quickly attained the rank of Cardinal. (through murder and luck theft of course). It was then easy to become the Pope and leader of the religious gamblers. I was known as the Lucky Pope (crappy name) and was ranked at seconds luckiest person at the time. The luckiest was the leader of the Scientific Gamblers. To defeat him I started many charities for the orphaned and the homeless and opened my own orphanages. Under the pretext of giving them luck (which the common people believed I could and would do) and having them join the clergy. In reality I farmed them. Drugged into sleep and periodically drained fluid from their eyes to add to my own. I came up with new methods. Eye transplants. My chest is covered with them as are my upper arms. They remain shielded with armour I had commissioned for 'religious festivities' (people will believe anything). These new eyes expanded my power ten fold. I bathed in the eye fluid of hundreds. Each eye gaining power. I surpassed not only the scientific gambler King but also anyone that has ever existed. \nThe Kings of Earth became weary years ago unable publicly denounce me for their fear of their people reactions to their religious leaders persecution at the hands of their King. Other countries with other religions didn't care and openly fought me. I created an army of three thousand and six (it was my lucky number) and I blessed this army with my holy water (Distilled eyes) and they became part of the top ten thousand luckiest humans. I crushed my enemies and gained my three continents to rule over personally. With the rest were filled with my religious followers the Kings were simple puppets. All but 7 of my enemies died. These kings fled. They used their combined luck to build star ships. They fled to space to Mars specifically and I followed. They died. I am now currently 26 and still ambitious and extremely egotistical. Things I touch become lucky. I shall venture further into space. \nI leave this journal simply for gloating for I am a petty person. In all probability this journal contains more luck than ten of you. As you no doubt now I have left this journal in the holy city of New Vegas in my grand cathedral in my personal chamber. Though many curious have entered none have left. You are stuck in this chamber with just this journal and the knowledge to become a god as I have. Though you won't. You will wither. \n\nThis was written in my lunch break. Apologies for the badly told story and the (most probably many) grammatical errors and spelling mistakes. But I'm out of time for now.\n\n@op this is a cool writing prompt."
] | [
1,
2
] | [
"1478048743",
"1478052480"
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[WP] You are an astronaut on the ISS, safe from the nuclear war raging on Earth below. You and your team ration for as long as possible in space. After a year of no contact from Earth, you are running low on supplies. There hasn't been a nuke in a long time. You decide to return home. | 71 | [
"\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",
"\"Dimitry, look, starboard port 9. Can you see those?!\"\n\n\"Zey look like rockets?\"\n\n\"....They certainly do. They are nearly at our altitude, what the hell? Are we in danger? The collision warning system isn't firing?\"\n\nCarter descended from the module above. He was the crew safety expert.\n\n\"Nothing on the collision alarm. Surface Control didn't send any updates. I can't raise Houston or Moscow, Beijing or Shanghai, Hawaii or Chile. We must be getting some very heavy interference.\"\n\nThe crew watched the \"rockets\" from the portal window, their trajectories unclear as they rose from the ground in their hundreds. Carter was frantically tapping away on his tablet, Dimitriy was fixated on a small computer terminal that was tracking the high altitude projectiles.\n\nThe first flash lit up the Earth below, a blinding white light that expanded rapidly, burning off the layers of cloud that had been punched through by the falling objects. Dimitry looked up, so did Rose, Carter and Yevgeniy, they all looked at each other. The first explosion could of been a mishap, a mistake, an accident, but not the following ones. The Earth below rumbled and shook, fire burst into the sky as a thousand thermonuclear clouds erupted into the stratosphere. Shockwaves visibly burst from the blasts of light and in some cases, merged with others creating a wall of fire and destruction that fanned out gracefully, engulfing the shining lights of cities and towns below on the continental Americas. \n\nSilence among the crew as they watch Nuclear conflict erupt around the world. Russia, they deduced, was first to fire and hit their targets. Hundreds of millions of civilians wiped out in America in an hour. When the US government realised that Russia had launched a first strike, they retaliated with everything they had. Russia, Syria, Poland and the Ukraine was wiped from the face of the Earth in hours. The biggest blasts happened over Moscow - the crew counted 18 mushroom clouds in and around the city. Britain, France, Germany, Spain and Canada were next, then India, Pakistan, China, Israel, Iraq, Iran, North and South Korea and Northern Australia. \n\n2 days pass, and another onslaught happens. Submarine fleets from around the world launch their missiles at the remaining population centres. Countless more millions die in the resulting fireballs. Surface ships engage in open warfare and the world descends into utter chaos. Allies attack former allies, paranoid that they may have switched sides. Enemies ally with old enemies against common foes and billions of civilians are displaced from their homes and die by the millions each day as the war intensifies.\n\nA week passes, the radio broadcasts stop. Either everyone is dead, or all of the military and space agency transmitters are destroyed by nuclear fire. The occasional nuclear cloud flashes into existence both on land and at sea, but the Earth falls silent. Only a smattering of lights can be seen on the dark side of the planet, the side in sunlight is a haze of fallout and dust, burning fires and cratered wastes.\n\nA month passes, the crew get desperate for contact - still nothing from the surface. A resupply shuttle was due to launch a week ago but it never got off the launchpad, destroyed by a single warhead that exploded over Baikounor. Carter had been rationing the crew to near starvation levels. Everyone was emaciated and weakened, but alive and functioning relatively normally.\n\n\"Everyone. Listen. We have 2 months of food, 3 months of water. We have the emergency re-entry pods, both of which have a full surface survival module that we can use to survive for 3 weeks on the surface. I have a plan\"\n\nThe crew gathered around Carter's console, where he had drawn up a detailed re-entry plan.\n\n\"We need to land somewhere cold, somewhere relatively unaffected by the bombs, where they didn't land. Anywhere in the Arctic is out of the question, the fallout from Russia and Europe has blown up there. Southern Chile or New Zealand looks like a good bet, I don't remember seeing any bombs go off there. We would need to time our re-entry correctly and re-program the modules to a specific flight path, GPS is down so we would be flying blind and trusting in our math and luck.\"\n\n\"How long can we survive on the surface?\"\n\n\"If we can land in an area without too much fallout, we can get underground quickly and establish a quarantined area, perhaps underneath a town or city. If we can find supplies that aren't irradiated, then perhaps indefinately. If we can't find these things, then we would have 6 months, perhaps a year of living off very meager rations before.....We would need to find re-breathers and geiger counters pretty quickly too.\"\n\nCarter paused awkwardly before his last sentence, he was acutely aware of demoralising the crew with foreboding predictions. After some discussion and argument, they agreed to give it a shot. Within 2 days, the modifications were complete, and they launched from their safe haven in orbit, rocketing down to the surface like so many missiles that had landed some weeks before. \n\nThe heatshields grew white hot, the flames licking the windshield as the descent picked up rapidly. The g-forces got to Rose, who passed out several times and then threw up in the cabin, causing a pungent smell of vomit to become circulated around the air system. \n\nEventually the descent evened out and the parachutes deployed, the cabin leveled itself out and the blue horizon of Earth presented itself, swaying at first, but in good time, horizontal to their window portals. Everyone breathed a small sigh of relief as they could see each others capsule descending to Earth, some distance apart. The computers predicted they would be over land in one minute, the crew had chosen New Zealand to land and hoped to hit a region with good accessibility.\n\n\"Carter - Carter over.\"\n\n\"Carter here, we see you guys. Look, 217 degrees, looks like land ahoy.\"\n\nThe crew smiled and pointed at the beautiful islands of New Zealand as they honed into view, their maths and predictions had been spot on and they were now directly over land. \n\nRose had woken up and was looking out the window to the ocean below. She saw seagulls flying and the blowhole plume of a whale and he encouraged the others to look, but they were too busy looking through rangefinders at New Zealand and hoping to see signs of life. \n\nRose looked down again, but the whale was gone. There were bubbles on the surface of the ocean, and the waves were disturbed, almost as if something had made a big splash. That's when she saw it. A huge eye, the size of a stadium, staring back up at her, through the surface of the water. It blinked, and her heart rate soared. She screamed at the top of her voice.\n\n\"DONT LAND IN THE OCEAN!\"\n\n",
"Log 278: Below us lies the dust. A cloudy murky expanse stretching from horizon to horizon. Above us sits the light of a thousand burning suns from which no help ever came. We were born in a flash and went out with a bang... or at least those who we left behind did. \n\nIt's been 9 months since our last resupply, 6 since the first bombs were dropped, 4 since the last one was, and 1 since the surface went completely radio silent. We have no more hope for rescue or a refuel and it's going to have to be up to our remaining 6 man crew to save ourselves. \n\nWe have begun the process of loading whatever usable equipment can be stockpiled into the last RC cargo capsule to visit us. It has remained as a lucky yet grim reminder that ground control was lost so early in the fray. They didn't even try to help us... but we can still help ourselves. \n\nLog 283: Dr. Zhou has finished reprogramming the RC cargo capsule for our piloted re-entry and the last of our few rations have been packed. With some makeshift seats mounted along the cargo hold for our use, we have no choice but to attempt our descent into the grey. \n\nI pray to God that we find anything hospitable below. Even a chance at life is slim to none for us. But that hope is all we have left. Our charted plan should land us somewhere in the in the Great Plains of what was The USA.\n\nLog 285: Gravity is swift and she takes no prisoners. Our heat shield is holding and Susan Torrez has taken control of the makeshift controls assembled. She is quick to make sure gravity doesn't take us too fast. \n\nLike the bombs that destroyed our homes, we fly burning through the atmosphere with the heat of a nuclear furnace. The sound of metal creaking and the rush of fire fills our minds, our suits, and our souls. \n\nLog 286: We must have missed our landing zone, as this is not the terrain we expected. Reflected from our helmets rests the specter of a bygone world. Ash slowly drifts down from the toxic skies, swirling between the charred and wicked shapes of what were once trees. It's surreal, beautiful, and disheartening all at the same time. \n\nLog 287: We lost Dr. Zhou to a radiation leak, and Yuri took off his helmet; embracing death. I can still hear their agony and their screams. I can still see the piles of bones scattered about them. I can still feel the inevitability of my death... and yet we walk on into the dust. \n\nLog 288: I'm all that's left now. My oxygen is low; my last breaths stolen from Torrez. Her air was to be mine and I couldn't stop myself. I finally knew where we had landed and I had to make it home. So here shall I die... I shall die with my arms around the bones of my family. At least I can say I got to see my wife before I went. To lie with her in our home one last time. We shall be bones together...\n\nLog 289: No... Wait... You can't be alive!! No you#%*recording damaged*%#\n"
] | [
1,
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42
] | [
"1478052991",
"1478074023",
"1478055694"
] | |
[removed] | [WP] Describe the United States of America accurately using vague terms and without proper nouns or bias. | 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. Prompts should encourage a story or poem. \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/5apata/wp_describe_the_united_states_of_america/%0A%0A)"
] | [
1,
1
] | [
"1478085556",
"1478085672"
] |
[WP] Addiction/alcoholism, portrayed as a sentient force | 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",
"I sat back, re-imagining my plan once more. Five hours, minimum. Half hour break for a snack, then right back to studying. To keep it from getting stale, rotate subject every half hour. I think I should probably start with-\n\n**Knock Knock Knock**\n\n\"Hey there bud, how is it goin'?\" it asks, completely ignoring my privacy\n\n\"Great until you showed up.\" I reply, already anticipating the earful this prick is about to give me.\n\n\"Wachya workin' on there?\"\n\n\"Well I was about to start Calculus s-\"\n\n\"Wow, that looks really boring. You know what...\"\n\nI already knew what it was about to suggest \"Shut up.\"\n\n\"You should...\"\n\n\"Shut up!\"\n\n\"Check...\"\n\n\"I AM PERFECTLY HAPPY STUDYING THANK YOU FOR ASKING!\"\n\n\"Writing prompts!\"\n\nI tried my best to ignore it.\n\n\"Oh come on, your writing isn't going to get any better if you don't\"\n\n\"Bull shit, you with your 'improving' attitude all of a sudden. Where was that practice makes perfect attitude when I was trying to write that essay last week?!\"\n\n\"Yeah but that essay sucked!\"\n\n\"Because I only started it the day before it was due!\"\n\n\"There were important things to do before then!\"\n\n\"Yeah? Like what? all those youtube viedos, facebook, reddit?\"\n\n\"Important. Things.\"\n\n\"Yeah, well buzz off. This time I actually have important things to do.\"\n\nIt tried talking me into it a bit more \"Just leave a tab open and check every other problem, what harm could that do?\" But I did my best not to listen. After half hour or so, it left only to come back around dinner to be ignored for another fifteen minutes. Then it was closing in on midnight, I really should have gone to bed an hour ago but I got caught up in a few problems. Then it showed up when I least expected it.\n\n\"Man, what a dull day, huh. You deserve a few minutes on the web, don't you think?\"\n\nTired, weak, weary. I needed bed more than anything, but before I knew it, it already had the front page open. \"Alright. What is a few posts going to hurt.\"\n\nA few posts turned into the front page, which turned to the front page of writing prompts, which turned into the 'new' page of writing prompts.\n\n\"OOOOOoooo Look at that one\" it pointed to the screen \"You can write a little something something for that in no time flat!\"\n\nI turned to the clock, but my eyes didn't see the time, they were looking at the words I was typing on the screen. when all was said and done, I turned back to the creature\n\n\"You know, that was nice. Can I go to bed now?\"\n\n\"But! You only just started! You need to be on more tomorrow!\"\n\n\"We will see about that!\" as I spoke, my hand darted to the power button, the dim light of the monitor quickly faded and with it the abomination that was in my room. As it faded out of existence, it had a grim frown on it's face. Next time we met, it would be angry.\n\nBrushed my teeth, head to bed. I lie there between my sheets, staring at the ceiling. As I start to fade, I can feel my hand grasping for my phone at my bedside. It still wants me.\n\n\"Oh give yourself a break\" It says in a calm soothing voice \"You could be addicted to crack or alcohol.\"\n\n\"Yeah, then I wouldn't have to hang out with a nerd like you\" I reply.\n\nInternet addiction didn't take any shame in being called a nerd, in fact it took a bit of pride."
] | [
1,
2
] | [
"1478143568",
"1478146366"
] | |
[removed] | [WP] The only people left on planet earth are tumblr's special snowflakes, and you. | 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",
"It's time to end it. I woke up this morning and my wife is gone, my family, friends... even the fucking dog. I tried to hold on, I went to get supplies thinking it would be a fight but when I got to the store, there already people inside. I went in to ask if anyone knew what was going on, where the others are. The girl I walked to seemed a bit, odd... she simply said, \"I dunno man, I keep checking tumbler but no one knows.\"\nI come back home and google tumbler. The first hit is for a site called Tumblr.\nI know that within a few weeks any utilities and day-to-day function may cease but the internet may be a great tool to get my grounding right now. \nI'm just really worried right now, why is there no 'e' in the name. I am desperate though, I click on it, I search the user name she gave me. She said if there are any updates she would have them on there, I then branch out and look at other people's. \nMy god.\nIt is like everyone else in the world is on this thing. \nI ran outside and down the street, I see 5 people who seem to be wanting attention from others but are purposefully staying away from them. I ask them if they are on Tumblr, they all say yes. \nFuck this, I'm done.\n* single gunshot* \n\n/first wp attempt "
] | [
1,
2
] | [
"1478169723",
"1478170828"
] |
[removed] | [WP] | 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\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/5azhmk/wp/%0A%0A)"
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[WP] In a world where everybody is immortal, having children is forbidden. You're pregnant | 29 | [
"\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 caught it from the corner of his eye. That flicker of alarm on his face as he scanned the report. How he slowly reached for the phone, while simultaneously assuring me that the test results appear to be fine. I immediately knew. I didn't gave him the chance to alert anyone. I lunged at him, pulling out the knife that was hidden in my purse. \n\nAfter I was done, he was lying in a pool of blood, gasping for air, moaning in pain. No matter how many stabs I give him, he was not going to die. We're not supposed to die, anyway, no matter what we do to our body. But it was more than enough to keep him down. And most importantly, I needed him to forget.\n\nAs he tried to crawl away from the room, I flicked the knife and held it in reverse grip. Our bodies may refuse to die, but there are still many ways to harm it. I took aim at his neck, where the spinal cord connected to the brain, and plunged the knife as hard as I could.\n\nThere was a sickening crack as the blade ripped through his skin and struck his spine. Blood splattered everywhere. He let out one final whimper, before slumping to the ground. If the blade had hit where it was supposed to, he would not remember a thing when he wakes up. That I could only hope.\n\nI proceeded to clean the room immediately. The bloodstained floor and clothes. Scouting out this particular clinic had helped, as I knew there was an attached toilet where I could draw water, and there was no one around to hear the commotion. I changed the doctor out of his bloodied overalls with the clothes that I brought, and dumped them all in my backpack. I would have to burn everything later.\n\nI did not want to do this, but I had little choice. Ever since the Universal Life Preservation Act kicked into place, the world was no longer a place I recognized. In an attempt to prolong human life, we released something far worse than what we had buffered for. A highly contagious nanovirus that rapidly repairs any deformity in the body, ensuring that your cells forever stay the way they are, effectively turning humans immortal.\n\nWe were suddenly cursed with this condition, unable to grow old, forever confined to the age we were infected.\n\nI walked over to the doctor's table, and opened the file to reveal my health report. Printed in bold red at the bottom right was the word 'Positive', next to the 'Pregnancy Test' heading. It was a crime to be pregnant, considering how humans can no longer age. I know that fully well. After all, I went through the sterility program just for this. But somehow, somewhere, something went horribly wrong. \n\nI tucked the report into my bag, wondering how life would now change for me. It was impossible to abort the baby, the virus affects the individual at conception, and the prospect of spending the rest of eternity locked up is not a possibility I would entertain. My choices were severely limited.\n\nThere was another life now within me, that at least I know. As I walked out of the clinic, into this new world that is now grappling with a new reality, a new resolve forms within me. If this is what life is going to hand me, the last thing I could do is to fight for the right to live, for me and my baby. I took a step out to the unknown.\n\n"
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We've all been wronged. Here's your chance to get even. | [WP] Exact your revenge. | 19 | [
"\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",
"My mother is a hoarder. Not your typical hoarder; she doesn't keep trash bags and dirty plates and used tissues.\n\nShe hoards *stuff.*\n\nEvery day we get more boxes in the mail. The UPS and Fedex guys are on a first name basis with us, and the USPS delivery driver leaves treats for our dogs daily. Coming home to less than three new deliveries is unusual.\n\nMy mom is a hypocrite. She yells at everyone else for being a lazy do-nothing, and yet all she does is lay in bed and mope. She watches tv, complains and barks out orders, sleeps, and shops online. QVC is her channel of choice, except when Toddlers & Tiaras is on.\n\nThe boxes contain junk. Our kitchen is chock full of single-function gadgets and doodads that have never been used. I could make you zucchini spaghetti, or spin your salad, or scramble you an egg without ever breaking the shell. I could lock a pint of Ben & Jerry's, leave a perfect puncture on a carton of milk, or cook bacon in the microwave in a giant contraption that holds the strips flat so they cook more evenly.\n\nI *could*, but I never have. Neither has she.\n\nWe have decorations galore, for every season and holiday. They sit in the basement, never to be displayed. Every surface in our house is so covered in knick knacks and tchotchkes that you can't even put your keys down. Our basement is piled high with boxes labelled Christmas and Easter and Halloween. They haven't been opened in years.\n\nShe has so many clothes, she uses over half of my closet. My stepdad doesn't even get a closet; she's taken over his entirely. There are boxes and boxes filled with expired makeup, hair products, soaps, medications, toothpaste, and every other toiletry you could want. There's a huge bin filled with samples from hotels and magazines and stores. There is even a bookshelf filled with candles and perfumes that, again, have never been opened.\n\nMy mom is a hoarder, not in the \"traditional\" sense (she throws away garbage, after all!) but she doesn't see it. My stepdad and I are sick of it. We have to put it away, and live around the hoard, and deal with mountains of junk falling out of every cabinet that gets opened.\n\nWe're ready to strike back.\n\nWe've decided that we need to do something drastic. Something that will make this house livable. Something... final.\n\nWe already bought the biggest pack of industrial garbage bags we could find. Now we just need an excuse to get her out of the house for a few hours. It will be hard work, and it will require multiple trips to the nearest dumpster. It will be sweaty and dusty and dirty.\n\nIt will be glorious. I can't wait.",
"On the theme of Vengeance:\n \n\n\"You didn't understand,\" the man said, his face staring into two others, upside down. \"If you did,\" the man said, lifting his face away, \"you wouldn't have done the things that put you here.\" Bright lights hit their eyes, forcing them to squint. The sound of leather being drawn tight and creaking made a susurrus in the otherwise still room.\n \n\n\"There are two kinds of people.\" The voice came from somewhere in the room. The men tried to move their heads but they were fixed, staring at the roof, into the light. \"One kind, when you take everything from him...\" and here the voice broke, the sadness echoing in the resulting silence. \"You take it, and he falls down. You've cut his strings, his reason to move, to live.\" The men struggled to speak, but their mouths had been filled with cloth and taped shut. \"The second kind, oh~\" the voice continued. \"The second man, when you take everything away, you don't take away his strings, but his fetters. His Chains!\" he shouted.\n\n \n\"That man, he has nothing to live for, except revenge.\" The last few words were almost hissed. The face appeared again, blocking the light. The men squinted up, straining to move, to do anything. \"The only reason we are having this little chat,\" the man said as his hands placed nasal tubes into their nostrils and turned a valve, \"is because I wanted you both to know who did this to you, in case you survive.\" He smiled, like a devil, driving syringes into each of their necks and squeezing.\n \n\nTheir eyes closed, their minds turning blank, as the doctor began his work. For the next three days three men stayed in a room that smelled like blood and death. In the corner was a pile of organs, a heart, a liver, two lungs. One set of every organ in the body. On a table lay a single body, once two people. Stitched together in horrifying ways, sharing an entire set of organs like a perverse set of Siamese twins. The doctor pulled a phone from his pocket as he left, calling for an ambulance to come to the location. Again, he smiled.\n\n",
"\"So, we meet for the last time, Nicholas.\"\n\nThe man was shriveled. He lay destitute in the hospital bed. He must have been going on eighty now. \n\n\"Where is your wife, Nicholas?\"\n\nThe man did not have a wife, for none would love him. \n\n\"Where are your children, Nicholas?\"\n\nThe man did not have any child, for the state took them away. \n\n\"Where is your family, Nicholas?\"\n\nThe man did not have any family, for they tired of defending him. \n\n\"Where are your friends, Nicholas?\"\n\nThe man did not have any friends, for they knew what he did. \n\n\"Where is your Angel, Nicholas?\"\n\nThe man recalled Angel, the girl he violated some sixty years or more past. \n\n\"I know where she is, Nicholas. She's moved on. She's done better. Last I heard, she might be going back to the camp as a director. But you. You are here.\"\n\nThe interrogator removed the respirator from the man's face, and left into the light of a hospital ward. ",
"######[](#dropcap)\n\nWith a sound of metal screaming in a grind of sparks, Rodrick's sword lifted from the groove it had carved in the floor beneath it to begin its advance along side him. He had watched this farce long enough, far past the point which he should have been spurred to action- and now the results shown in front of him far beyond his wildest expectations.\n\nThe room was filled with stunned faces, some still coated in the blood of the unluckiest members of their group within the tower. Rodrick had witnessed three in this session alone meet their demise- and the day was just begun: There was a high chance for at least two more following along in that fate. As he passed the first of them, what little emotion left within him found humor in their fear. Robes and cloaks tripped and fell with panicked and scrambling feet to move aside.\n\nCowardice aside, that was very wise of them. His sword had done away with many in the past too foolish to recognize its right of way.\n\nAs all present in the room stared gaped in awe and horror, Rodrick stepped forward with finality, massive blade lifted to rest its massive weight upon armored his shoulder as he stared down at the single Mage in the room's center. Below his gaze sat a man who should be dead, sitting quietly in traditional garb of no special bearing. A black robe and a shaved head just barely prickling back to growth, face of dumbfounded expression that seemed unable to grasp that the chest beneath it still beat with life. \n\nBy all rights, these things were justified. Rodrick knew full well that the Mage should have been dead, and yet...\n\nRodrick stared at the portal, looking into the plane of another existence. Beyond it lay a world mostly lacking of Magics. Another place where perhaps the laws of its reality might prevent even an Unstoppable, Immortal Mage of the Dark arts from finding themselves capable of instantly returning. A place that might strip them of their gifts and leave nothing but a mortal man in their place. \n\nSo much as Rodrick doubted against the tiny flicker of hope that such passage would be enough to put and end to this miserable existence, there was still a chance: Here and now, there was a greater chance than Rodrick had ever known in all his service.\n\nCasually, Rodrick let the massive sword resting on his armored shoulder fall, whistle of its cut through the air halting in an instant beside the man's neck- and waiting. There it held, still as if clamped to iron bands of perfect tension.\n\n\"Can the Portal be closed?\" His question rolled out like damp fog of a dark valley, cold and oppressive. Beside them, Rodrick could see the ancient Spheres of Chaos spinning on unseen axis, odd contortions of space and vision churning like curdled milk as flickers of unfamiliar passed along their perfect polished edges. \"Answer me, Mage.\"\n\n\"But you... You're-\" The Mage stuttered, staring back between the sword, the portal, and the dark glow beneath Rodrick's blackened helm. \"He's your master- isn't he?\"\n\n\"**ANSWER ME.**\" The shout brought the youth's jaws to clench shut, whatever words planned brought to quick and ruthless silence. \"Answer me, now.\"\n\n\"N-no-\"\n\n\"**No?**\" Rodrick pressed the sword closer, tainted edge the only part of the metal that still showed a faint hint of life and glory. A drop of red cascaded down along the silver line. \"Explain.\"\n\n\"He's right, we can't.\" Another voice joined into the conversation, Rodrick turned to set his gaze upon another mage as they pulled back their hood to reveal themselves. \"The portal will remain open unless we can break the spheres, and none of us are capable of that. The Dark Lord was the only one who understood those magics.\"\n\nThe young woman that hood revealed stared at him with wild blue eyes, hands lowered as if she might consider casting in his direction- attentive on the sword. If Rodrick could still smile from beneath his helm of blackened coal and filth, in that instant he might have shone teeth. He'd seen them both, after all. They had worked together, these two. \n\nFirst the mage beside his sword, then the girl with her lightning. Rodrick had expected them to fail, been slow to act considering how little concern Gillian had shown for their attempts to resist. Yet, somehow they had succeeded in avoiding a more immediate death. Rodrick considered that for a moment, recognizing their act for what it was: A distant memory of another life before death.\n\n\"We all hated the Dark Lord, just as much as I know you do.\" The Witch continued, pressing him with grappled words. \"I know you wished him dead as well. Please let Eron go, we'll obey you in his place. We'll be loyal, I swear it.\"\n\nLove... in a horrid place like this, it seemed beyond foolish that such a thing could even come to pass.\n\n\"So the Portal can not be closed.\" He turned to stare at its strange brilliance, skies of blue and buildings of glass piercing like jagged teeth in the distance beyond its veil. There was no sign of his Lord's return, not yet: But as long as Rodrick persisted to remain in the mortal realm, he knew that the Dark Mage still lived.\n\nWhile that man still lived, no tragedy was impossible.\n\n\"Please let Eron go.\" The witch seemed uncertain of which route to take, finally settling on the tried and proven method of grovelling on one's knees, bowing low. \"Please. Anything you ask, we'll give it.\" She begged, tears already forming on the ground beneath her. \n\nIn a distant part of Rodrick's mind, he felt it strange how genuine that emotion was. Where all he felt was hatred and fog, there were still those who had a portion of their humanity left to them. Along the edges of the room, Rodrick heard the great door creak open, drawing his attention to the source.\n\nAn uncertain face peeked around its edge, practiced eyes peering for immediate dangers before entering.\n\n\"Young Julius.\" Rodrick's voice rang out like the steel in his hand, raising the sword once more to rest on his plated shoulder so that it no longer sat along the man's neck. The ragged sigh of relief from the Mage beneath him was notably audible. \"Your timing is impeccable.\"\n\nStepping inside to receive Rodrick's greeting, the cleaner bowed with mop, rags, and buckets in hand. The nervous expression upon the boy's face was fitting for the circumstances, especially considering the cleaner had just walked into the Western Continent's closest equivalent to a successful assassination attempt in the last 3,000 some-odd years.\n\n\"Yes Sir Rodrick. Thank you Sir Rodrick!\" The youth's reply came with numerous further bows, a panicked tone and a dropped mop as well, before coming to his senses. \"Just the usual post-sphere session clean up sir?\" He shifted the wooden instrument in the general direction of the corpses already scattered along the floor, and the blood stains along the walls.\n\nThis particular session had been eventful even before the Dark lord was thrown out of their present reality.\n\n\"No Julius, not precisely...\" The words seemed unfamiliar coming from his own throat, not their pronunciation, but certainly their purpose. Rodrick didn't even know how long it had been since. \"Are there still corpses left from the previous sessions?\"\n\n\"Corpses?\" The cleaner's expression looked increasingly uncertain. \"There are plenty of corpses, always-\"\n\n\"Good. Instruct the servants to fetch me two.\"\n\n\"Two corpses?\" The Cleaner almost dropped his mop again, eyes darting to the others present in the room. \"But why?\"\n\nA sound rumbled out among the hall, only after a moment did Rodrick realize it was his own voice. Laughter, true laughter after all these painful years. All the years that Gillian had tortured him, Rodrick could hardly recognize the noise: So hollow, the tones sounded as if his armor itself was the one laughing, all but empty of the being inside.\n\nPurposefully, chest plates heaving all the while, Rodrick reached down as his gauntlet covered hand felt cloak and robes before throwing the Mage that had rested at his feet across the room. His body landing with a shout of pain by his grovelling companion, her sobs ceasing as she wrapped her arms around his injured form protectively.\n\n\"Bring these Mages with you, Julius.\" Rodrick paused in murky thought as he watched them rise, unsteady. Shifting his sword slightly, his tone turned once more. \"And send another cleaner back in your stead, still with the pair of corpses. Make certain all those are of near likeness.\" The sword slowly settled its point once more into the stone floor with a ruthless crunch. \"Close as possible.\"\n\n\"Another cleaner? Likeness?\" Julius stared at the Black Knight with horror, realization quickly setting in. \"Oh gods have mercy...\"\n\n\"Do as I command.\" The Knight said solemnly, \"Go now.\"\n\nThe cleaner obeyed, followed by the rough limping duo behind him as the door soon closed. Rodrick left his sword what it stood, humor forgotten as he turned to stare at the strange portal; charcoal black armor drinking in the light that poured from its peculiar glow.\n\n----\n\n*This Story 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/5aykcr/wp_never/d9kht8n/)\n\n[NEXT](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/5balln/wpyou_can_cook_1minute_rice_in_57_seconds_despite/d9n38qk/)\n\n\n"
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[removed] | [WP][RF] Augmented hyper-reality exists for everybody. We thought Mankind had essentially created Cyberheaven-on-Earth. Until the Deus Ex Machina manifested. | 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\n[RF] is for things that have happened before or should be able to happen in the real world to unknown people. Also, not what you think could happen in the future. See [here](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/how_to_tag_prompts#wiki_rf.3A_reality_fiction) for information. \n\nFeel free to repost as just a [WP]. \n\n\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/5b41c8/wprf_augmented_hyperreality_exists_for_everybody/%0A%0A)"
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[WP] Jesus Christ is real and he's back. You get his exclusive first interview and he is not the guy you'd imagined he'd be. | 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",
"“So…. No halos, no heavenly beams of light, no nothing?”\n\nThe man sitting across the table from me chuckled as he meticulously finished rolling the joint that he *insisted* on bringing into the interview. He licked it, sealed it carefully, and popped it into the corner of his mouth. “I *wanted* to make an entrance, for sure. Peter wouldn’t let me though, something about keeping up appearances and not causing a mass panic. Kind of a square, that guy. You got a light?” He took the lighter that I passed to him, sparked the end of his joint and inhaled. “But he’s got a point, I guess. Last time I was here I was just some dude. I worked the occasional miracle, sure, but I was still mostly just a human. Coming back being overtly the Son of God and all kinda defeats the purpose of me being here.”\n\n“Well, what do you mean by that, Mr. Christ?”\n\nThat got a hefty guffaw out of him. “Please, please, call me Jesus. But yeah, you know, the whole point of my teachings was to get the common man to not be a dick, right? You can teach them that by being all fire and brimstone, but you can teach that a lot better by just being the change you want to see. People see you being good and getting good in return, they want in on it. Might be cashing in on greed a little bit, but there’s no real problem with that. Ends and means and all that. You want a hit of this?” The joint was thrust in my direction, smoking lightly.\n\n“Oh, please, no thank you, sir. But that does raise another question – why, exactly, have you insisted on smoking during the interview…? Isn’t that a bad thing? You know, marijuana is regularly known as the Devil’s Let-“\n\n“Pshhhhhhhhhhh.” My question was interrupted with said joint being waved in my direction with a dismissive gesture. “It’s a natural plant, ain’t it? And it doesn’t kill you. I’ve been telling you guys for centuries, Dad put it down here for the enjoyment of the people. And all y’all do is fight about it.” A small bit of ash fell to the table, smoldering gently, as he took another drag. “Devil’s Lettuce, my shining holy ass. You know, a lot of your big problems can be solved by direct application of a fatass blunt. Seriously. Get one of those bad boys into the next world leaders’ meeting, I guarantee you you’ll start seeing some real results.”\n\n“Uhh, very well, sir. The next question on the list here is, where have you been? I mean, clearly you’ve been in Heaven, but you were a huge influence on the world back when you were.. ah, first alive, and then you disappeared for centuries. Scholars have been arguing ever since about whether you even really existed. So why didn’t you come back before this to set the record straight? Where have you been?”\n\nJesus shrugged nonchalantly. “Iunno. Around. Just because nobody recognized me doesn’t mean I wasn’t here.” He leaned in closer to the table and dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “Remember that guy you met on the bus last week that gave you fifty bucks and asked you to spend it on your girlfriend?” He gave a sly grin and a wink and leaned back again. “I’ve been doing stuff like that for *years*. Usually I just pose as random schmucks and see how the local humans treat me. I’ve gotta say, too, I’m usually pretty impressed. Dad is less so, but I’ve been down here among you guys since the last time anybody heard from the ‘real Jesus’. As a whole, you’ve got some work to do, but individually? I like most of you.” Another drag on the joint. “Funny thing, that – humanity in general has got a lot to learn from the Satanists. Seriously, check out what those guys are putting down, it’s good stuff.”\n\n“I- uhm. What? Satanists? Seriously?”\n\nHe nodded emphatically. “Yeah dude, check it out, hold on –“ he grabbed my laptop, without asking, and navigated to the Church of Satan website. “Just look at that. There’s some bits that aren’t that great, sure, but the general idea of it is to be cool to your fellow humans and chase what you love. I’m not mad at that.”\n\n“But, Mr. Jesus – doesn’t that directly contradict one of the Ten Commandments? ‘Thou shalt have no other Gods’?”\n\n“Alright, look.” He set the joint down and got a serious look in his eyes. “I’m gonna let you in on a little something. Things were a little weird back in the Old Testament days, and we needed some hard and fast rules to keep people from stabbing each other and trying to bone their cousins. One of these hard rules was that you had to follow the rules – hence the part where one of the Commandments was to worship the God that was presented to the people and not anybody else, because any of the other false gods that people made up would have had a different set of rules. But the truth of it is, you know, all the religions that came out of history – Christianity, Islam, the Greek Pantheon for fuck’s sake – they’re all going to the same guy. They had different ways of looking at it, but there really is only one God and they all answer to aspects of Him. Thing is, though, he’s kind of… let’s call it ‘nebulous’. He’s not just ‘a guy’ in the way you think of that phrase – he’s an all-encompassing force. The way you understand physics are a byproduct of how His physical body exists. Little parts of him make up everything you’ve ever known, and sometimes people pick different parts to worship. Doesn’t mean any of you are necessarily wrong, just that you’re looking at different interpretations. While we’re on the subject, though, and pay attention –“ He looked directly into the camera for this one – “I’ma need you to stop fighting over all that. Seriously. Nobody is going to ‘win’ anything by that, all you’re doing is making fools out of yourselves and needlessly killing innocent people. *Stop that shit*.” He leaned back, picked his joint back up and took a drag on it. “It’s fuckin’ stupid, I tell you. You know what else was in the Commandments? ‘Thou shalt not kill’. Fat lot of good that’s doing anybody in their crusades.”\n\n“Can you elaborate some more on that for us? About the nature of God? And what is Heaven really like?”\n\nJesus grinned. “Trade secret, sorry. You’ll just have to wait and see when you get there.”\n\n“Well, Mr. Jesus –“\n\n“Look, dawg, I already told you, it’s just Jesus. Please.”\n\n“Okay, well then, Jesus. Do you have anything you’d like to tell the world before we have to end our interview?”\n\nHe pondered this for a moment, until a crafty grin spread across his face. “Two things, actually. One, Hell isn’t quite as bad as we made it sound in the Bible – people needed a real solid deterrent back in those days, but in reality it’s more like Purgatory. You can work your way out of there and up into Heaven if you can purify your soul. It ain’t easy, but it’s doable. Might make you all feel a little better. Secondly – remember how I said I like to wander around as random people and meet the local humans? I don’t do that just for fun – it’s mostly for fun, but you know, I’ve got a real job up in Heaven, and that job is keeping tabs on the Earth and making sure people are still doing right by each other. Next time you’re about to be mean to someone, think about how sure you are that they aren’t actually me in disguise.” He winked conspiratorially, dropped the smoldering joint into my ashtray, and stood up. “Ta ta, kids! Until next time! Remember, we’re *always* watching.”\n\nAnd with that, he disappeared in a cloud of smoke that smelled faintly of lilacs and marijuana. The joint continued to smolder gently on the table.\n\n“Well, ladies and gentlemen, you heard it here first. Jesus Christ!”\n"
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[WP]Well, this is awkward. The monster under my bed is scared of me. | 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",
"The whimpering under the bed began to bother me again. I had work tomorrow, damn it. Why did this thing have to be blubbering in the middle of the night?\n\n\"Would you shut up?\"\n\nThe creature began to sob loudly, blubbering incomprehensibly. It's voice was deep and moving, yet it didn't fit this puny creature.\n\n\"Please don't hurt me...\"\n\nI sighed. This was the fifth time in over a week it did this.\n\n\"Look, i'm not going to hurt you. Why would I?\"\n\n\"Because you're scary, and big, and have that terrifying job. EVEN I DON'T HURT PEOPLE FOR FUN!\" \n\n\"I don't hurt people for fun.\"\n\n\"YES YOU DO! YOU'RE MEAN AND NASTY! NASTIER THEN ME!\"\n\n\"Look, can you just pipe down for the night? I have work. I'm not going to tell you again. Why don't you just leave?\"\n\n\"I DON'T WANT YOU TO HURT ME!\"\n\nThe creature went back to blubbering, but more quietly. I sighed loudly. He's not gonna leave, is he? I don't even know what he's scared about. Still, luckily, I was able to sleep, even with his crying.\n\nAwakening in the morning, the bottom of the bed was silent. The creature always sleeps in daylight, because it knows i'm leaving. Putting on my business suit and black tie, I combed my black hair and grabbed my briefcase. Running outside, I hailed a taxi. When the car began speeding to the office building, I began to relax. I felt easier, somehow. Work was always something I enjoyed.\n\nFinally, we reached the building: a huge bank, with marble pillars and a glass door. I stepped out of the cab, and gave the driver a tip. Breathing in, I began walking into the bank, and strolling past citizens. They always gave me weird looks. I guess being a debt collector gives you some infamy, after all.\n "
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[WP]If you smoke someone's brain, you get their memories | 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",
"Dearest Mark, my little Cucumber,\n\nThere is no garden now. The rainy days of hide and seek in the old farmhouse are no more. But how I think of them often. They bring me such warmth in even the darkest times.\n\nMy life held so little. So little happiness. And you were the one ray of sunshine in such a sea of dismal darkness. I was near the end when I met you, but you brought me back to the light. Having a child will do that, and becoming a mother makes one bigger than only oneself.\n\nSo now I sit here alone. Away from you. And I think back on your dirty little face playing in the gardens. Your squeals of delight when you were found hiding under the pillows. Thank you for those memories. They bring me such happiness in this lonely cell. I never knew when I killed your mother and smoked her brains what she would be giving me, but I am sure you will be happy to know her memories carry on and I cherish them deeply.\n\nLove Mom (The Nighthawk Killer.)\nTennessee State Penitentiary\nCell 6, Block D \"Deathrow\"\n"
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[deleted] | [WP] You are the blacksmith all the evil NPC's and Bosses go to for all their insane and impractical weapons and armor. | 180 | [
"\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“Come back next week.” The hammer slammed down on the glowing red metal and sparks flew in all directions. The henchman leapt out of the way.\n“Do you know who my master is?” The henchman mopped at the sweat on his forehead.\n\n“Don’t care. Come back next week.” The hammer continued in a steady thump as the metal began to change shape. \n\n“He has charged me to offer you double the price if you can just see your way clear to make up his order early.”\n\n“Don’t take bribes” The blacksmith grunted as he pounded the cooling metal then plunged it into a barrel of water, sending up clouds of steam. He straightened up and looked directly at the henchman. “You tell your boss he has to wait his turn like everyone else.”\n\n“But, but, oh alright, triple, we will pay you triple.”\n\n“You can pay ten times the going rate if you feel like it, but you still have to wait your turn. Get out of my smithy and come back next week.” \n\n“Who do you think you are? My master is, oof!” A big soot darkened hand cut off the pompous tirade, right in the middle of the chest. Fancy robes and daintily clad feet fell backwards through the smithy door. \n\nRaucous laughter accompanied the henchman’s ignoble eviction of the smithy.\n\n“Tol’ ya he won’t do it. I offer big box gold and shiny.” A huge troll like creature pointed an ax to punctuate his sentence.\n\n“You simply must wait your turn. Our bribe exceeded belief and he would not shift. None of us can return to our respective adventures until this smith creates our weapons and armour. Economics, my friend, economics.” The dandy in the purple robes, leaning against a tree, pared his nails with the edge of a shuriken blade. \n\n“Eca – what?” The henchman dusted off his robes, “Is that a new spell?”\n\n“Nay, good fellow. ‘Tis but an expression, to explain that one smith is capable of a limited output in a given time frame, and the demand for his skill is very high. He is not able to shift his programming to accelerate his output and hence we must wait our turn. I offered him much to speed my order. We all have the same dilemma.” The fellow in the forester’s drab brown and green, picked up the henchman’s hat and dusted the brim before handing it back.\n\n“Yar, ‘e won’t be done fer days wit me cutalsses fer the cap’n. I had orders from the cap’n to offer the whole cargo but him yonder just spat on the floor, so let say we all down a pint in yonder inn? I need a few days to get me seas legs to stop rollin’, ain’t had me a holly day on land fer way too long.”\n\n“Jolly good suggestion.” A chap in a bowler hat and tweed jacket straightened up from a crouch. “I doubt I shall see my order complete for quite some time and my own attempt at bribery feel on deaf ears. I arrived after you, did I not?” He addressed his remark to the dandy with the blade.\n\n“No, no, my employer will kill me.” The henchman looked sick, his hands twisting and nervous little tics twitched in his face.\n\n“Ye be a new Newbie then.” The pirate laughed. It wasn’t a question.\n\n“They all say that, it is an integral part of their persona. Threats of death and maiming. or maiming then death. It won’t happen. They need us, we need the smith, it’s all bluster. Come friend, relax. Worrying won’t make it happen any sooner and the smith is unbribable.” The dandy patted the henchman’s shoulder.\n\n“They bedda have goblin blood, me’s mighty thirsty.”\n\n“I doubt our respective employers are concerned for our whereabouts so lead on good troll-like being.” Tweed jacket doffed his bowler.\n\n“OO you callin’ a troll?”\n\n“Oh shut up and let’s drink. It is too hot out here to sit around waiting for the smith and quite frankly I loathe dust on my robes. To the inn.” The dandy led the way. \n\n“Oi!” a roar from the smithy stopped them in their tracks. They all turned to look at the smith. “One of you bring me a bowl of stew from the inn, with bread and a pint of the good ale, and some of the goodwife’s fruit pie with clotted cream.”\n\nThey all scurried toward the inn. The smith watched them and a deep belly laugh rolled through his body.\n\n“If you want to bribe a man, find the right coin.” He turned back to the smithy still laughing.\n",
"\"You want what now?\" I said incredulously, staring at the very complex, but childish drawing that was just dropped onto my desk.\n\n\"A flaming sword\" he answered, as though I was incapable of seeing his strange, juvenile illustration of a weapon that was not physically possible.\n\n\"How exactly do you expect me to do that?\"\n\n\"Well, you're a blacksmith aren't you? You'll figure it out. Or else...\" right, because this guy, without a weapon was going to attack me, in a closed of room, with various weapons i designed, and not get maimed.\n\n\"Right.\" I said, raising an eyebrow as I inspected the drawing more closely. \"And you want an... eyeball on the pommel?\"\n\n\"The what?\"\n\n\"The end of the handle.\" Fuckin' dumbass didn't even do any research.\n\n\"Oh, yes.\"\n\n\"Alright then.\" I guess I have my work cut out for me. Now then, where would I get a permanent flame potion?",
"I shouldn't have called him a mini boss... I stood as Galgacator, The Impaler of Skulls stood outside my smithy with a band of what appeared to be hired thugs.\n\nHe had originally came to me for a spear with bonus's in helmet rending and some vamperic properties to help him regain health when he attacked a foe. Really low level stuff, i wouldn't even break a sweat on it and the premium was to high for a guy like him. Vampire essence alone was 30 gilder and heroes didn't get that kind of cash until way after they would take on a thug boss.\n\n I didn't actually call him a miniboss i guess.... i just tried to make sure he didn't want the Miniboss basic set up package that came with better loot for heroes like a Bag of Holds-alot, and a Belt of Small Giant Power, and Dash Fast Boots. The spear alone would cost the same amount, and you got a vamperic dagger in with the package already. I thought it was a pretty sweet deal when my apprentice had originally pitched it to me.\n\n(Most big guys digged the boots even if it frequently caused them to crash into a wall because they only traveled in straight lines.) \n\n\"You don't even have real goons. I could hire these guys for more than you have friend.\" The mercenaries looked up at this. Greed spilled into their eyes at the mention at money and Galgactor turned the color of beet juice. \n\n\"I will take your fancy weaponry and money by force. ATTACK MEN!!\"\n\nThey never made it. Lord Count Valdamire showed up to my door just then. A frequent acquaintance, more long lived than most villains. His Cape of the Non-Specific Number of Hells laid waste to the earth around them before they could lurch forward toward my small cliche hut in an open field with no other people around. \n\n\"I need your help again Reggie.. They took out your Living Golem Making Sigil that my 3rd Squad leader had. Then stole another Piece of Power Staff of Godly Intervention I've been trying to put back together for a doomsday event. They only have a few more of my Elite group of Bad Bros before they get to me. I need something with more oomph for my next captain.\"\n\nGalgacator's jaw dropped.\n\nI told Valdy to hold still and threw The Thug captain a pair of Dash Fast's. \"Get out of here.\" I barked. The now defeated and saddened large man turned his hairy back and began a tough trudge back to some low level thieves den.\n\nHe wasn't worth the skulls he impaled.",
"I hammered away at the long sword. A practical, straight, evenly weighted long sword. I would probably never sell it, not with my clientele. In between hammer blows I heard the front door open and close. I looked over my shoulder to one of my apprentices, but he was already running for the front room. I set down my hammer and walked over to the water barrel and quickly washed my face and hands. \n\n\"Lord Demedoth is here to see you master,\" the apprentice said. \n\nIn the front room stood the eight foot tall Lord Demedoth. He was in his usual attire, the usual attire of most of my clients, black pants, and black doublet with a black cloak. I bowed formally, \"Lord Demedoth, it is an honor to see you again.\"\n\n\"Master Py,\" he said dismissively and dropped a stack of papers on the counter separating us. \n\nLord Demedoth was not the loquacious type, as I had learned in the past. In silence I took up the papers and looked through them. I withheld my sigh, the same drivel as always. Useless spikes all over. I wasn't sure how he expected to raise his hands over his shoulders based on the design presented. Then I got to the helmet. He wanted a full helm with visor, and rising from the top of hit the torso and head of a lion, arms outstretched, claws extended, mouth open in a roar. \n\n\"Opinion,\" Demedoth prompted. He did not ask questions, he simply demanded answers. \n\n\"To begin with, it will be heavy with all this added weight.\" I began. A simple look at his face told me to move on to my next point. \"I do have a concern about the spikes here and here,\" I said pointing to the shoulders. \"It looks like they may hinder mobility, you may not be able to raise your arms over your head.\" As I spoke I reached for a bit of paper and charcoal and quickly copied the design of his pauldrons and rerebrace, making a subtle changes to the spikes. \"I'm no artist with the charcoal, but I hope it gets my point across. My apprentice Peter is the artist around here, if you would like a more accurate representation.\"\n\n\"That will be unnecessary.\" He dropped a smaller stack of paper on the counter next to the first. \n\nIt was perhaps the worst design for a sword I'd ever seen. A sword with too long a blade, too short a handle, and too gaudy a cross guard. He wasn't sure why a skull with wings was necessary as the cross guard, but he did not argue. Even for a giant such as Demedoth the sword was massive, and he still found a reason to add useless weight to it. \n\n\"Tell me your opinion of that.\"\n\n\"A fine design,\" I lied, \"Thought I've never made a sword for a man of your size and strength I am a little concerned about the length and weight.\"\n\n\"Don't worry about that. Tell me how long it will take you to make all of this.\" As always a command, not a question. \n\n\"I can drop everything and begin on it now. It would take me roughly eight weeks to complete.\"\n\n\"I shall return in seven.\"\n\n\"Very well then, and the small matter of my payment.\" I said as he turned towards the door. Suddenly the tension in the room was palpable. Then Lord Demedoth relaxed slightly and I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. \n\nHe tossed me a small bag of coins, \"Your first installment, one hundred golden crowns. Another two hundred upon delivery.\"\n\n\"Yes, my lord.\"\n\nAnd with that he was gone. \n\n**Ten Weeks Later**\n\nThe back door slammed open and my apprentice ran in out of breath. \"Master Py, I have news.\"\n\nI looked up from the straight sword I was sharpening. \"Lord Demedoth has been slain.\"\n\nI couldn't help but smile, \"How so?\"\n\n\"He was unable to raise his arms high enough to block the killing blow.\" Peter the apprentice began laughing. \"Witnesses claimed every time he raised his arms his pauldrons clashed into his helm's lion.\" He began laughing harder and I was unable to draw any more information from him at the moment. \n\nI laguhed and went back to sharpening the long sword no one would ever buy. ",
"\"You have a special place in hell waiting for you, you know that right?\"\n\nAsked 'Davenour, The Lord of The Damned'. It was not a way of him saying that I was a bad person. It was literal. Because I helped 'Barnashok, Lucifer's Choosen Solider' and he promised to give me a luxury place in hell.\n\n\"Yes, I know. But I am not going there soon.\"\n\n\"Good. Because I still need to buy items. See you Maljhorok!\"\n\n\"See you!\"\n\nThen he left. You were used to it. Of course, you were known as 'Maljhorok, Apprentice of Senjor' and 'Maljhorok The Dark Blacksmith'. In the end, you were a blacksmith who gives bad people good items.\n\nNo, not that you are evil. It's just you earn more when you are on the 'dark side' and they sure pay a lot better. Just like your old master Senjor once said: \"You are not a stupid hero. You are a blacksmith. You work with whoever pays.\"\n\nThen, you hear the doorbell ring. You look, and you see one of your oldest costomers.\n\n\"Tomeleskan! The Dark Wizard! What can I do you for?\"\n\n\"Hi Malj. Call me Tom.\"\n\nYou will never call him Tom. It just doesn't look like a name that fits 'The Dark Wizard'. Tomeleskan is a lot better, not quite good, but better. \n\n\"I'd rather Tomeleskan.\"\n\n\"So be it. Anyway, my staff is...\"\n\n\"Let me guess, Alexander, Lord's Warrior?\"\n\n\"Yeah, that motherf-\"\n\n\"Woah, stop there. No swearing here. Remember Alkhadar's curse? I don't want you to end up seeing random ponnies.\"\n\n\"Oh... I do. He cares about language. That annoying bas... That annoying person!\"\n\n\"Better. About the stuff, I think I can fix it, again, but it will take some time. As you know, getting your hands on a virgin's skull is getting harder.\"\n\n\"Just use your own skull then!\"\n\n\"Ha ha ha. Funny. But inaccurate\"\n\n\"Wow! When?\"\n\n\"Remember Melindha?\"\n\n\"The succubus? How can I forget.\"\n\n\"Well, she tried to seduce me and almost took my soul a week ago. Does that count?\"\n\n\"I will say yes for the sake of the conversation. Back to the subject! When will it be repaired?\"\n\n\"Give it a week.\"\n\n\"Uh... Okay. I guess I can do that.\"\n\nThen he threw his staff and left. Staff was damaged, really really bad. \n\nThen the doorbell rings again. \n\n\"Zengar, The Dark Prince! Good to see you.\"\n\n\"Wow! That staff is Tom's staff right?\"\n\n\"Yeah it is. The Staff of Dark Energy.\"\n\n\"It looks really bad. Busy day, huh?\"\n\n\"Yup. What brings you here?\"\n\n\"About that... I think you should hide.\"\n\n\"Why? What happened?\"\n\n\"The Knights are coming.\"\n\n\"Shit...\"\n\n\"I most inform more people. See you!\"\n\nThen he leaves quickly.\n\nThe Knights. Heaven's army full of strong people. They were coming all the way to The Dark Town? It is not really a strong outpost or something.\n\n*Why do they bother coming tho. There is mostly nothing important here. Wait what the...\"\n\nThere was pink-white ponny standing in front of you. Looking at you with a judging face. How did it come here? \n\n*Alkhadar's curse...*\n\nYou thought that you'd hallucinate a ponny if you were to swear. But a real ponny was standing in front of you!\n\n\"What the fuck?\"\n\n\"*neighs angrily*\"\n\n\"Sorry... Anyway. I must hide. Where to hide? Where to hide? Oh! Yes. Ellkundor's Closet. I can make it invisible! Want to hide with me?\"\n\n\"*neighs*\"\n\n\"I guess it's a yes.\"\n\nThen you hide in the closet, with a ponny... Hoping that The Knights will leave your blacksmith shop alone.\n\nBut that's now what it happens. You hear your doorbell ring. And someone talks.\n\n\"I, Alexander, The Lord's Warrior, want to talk to the owner of this shop.\"\n\n...\n\n\"I can sense you there, in that horribly hidden closet. If you do not come out, I will make sure you never walk again.\"\n\nThe ponny dissappears. You decide to come out. Alexander, is wearing a golden armor. It matches his golden colored eyes and hair. He looks strong, handsome and fearsome at the same time. And he has three other knights with him.\n\n\"H... Hi.\"\n\n\"Is this your shop?\"\n\nHe had a perfect British accent.\n\n\"Yes... It... It is. Why?\"\n\n\"I heard that you were selling items for the dark creatures. Is that right?\"\n\n\"I... Um...\"\n\nYou gulp really hard, it is the most intense talk you have ever done.\n\n\"Yes. I mean... I sell items for everyone. Whoever comes here.\" \n\n\"And you do realise that you are in the middle of an evil territory, right?\"\n\n\"Yes, s... sir. This is a shop that belonged to my master. I... Can't really leave it to rot.\"\n\n\"That's actually quite understandable. Who was your master?\"\n\n\"Senjor... Sir.\"\n\n\"Wait... Are you Maljhorok?\"\n\n\"No... I.. I mean yes.\"\n\n\"You... Black marketting forbidden items, helping out the motherfuckin' Lucifer itself, killing a knight, using black magic and even more that I can't count. And holy god is that Tomeleskan's staff?\"\n\n\"I...\"\n\n\"KNIGHTS! Let's murder this bastard! Wait wha...?\"\n\nThen, there appears the ponny again. Looking straight at Alexander's face. *Oh, right. He cursed.*\n\n\"PONNY! Look at me! Hey come... Just... FUCK!\"\n\nThen ponny stares at you. He has that judging face again.\n\n\"He is Alexander, he is a knight. Run away!\"\n \n\"*neighs angrily*\"\n\n\"Aren't you gonna... Run away or something? Alkadar should work on you...\"\n\nGuards are ready to attack you.\n\n\"Wait a second! Is that ponny Alkhadar's? That bastard has a ponny?\"\n\nPonny's eyes turn red.\n\n\"*Do not... Swear at... My owner...*\"\n\nThen it turns back at Alex, neighs a warcry. Then starts stabbing knights with his horn? What?\n\nBefore you realize it, all the knights, including Alexander, are dead. Stabbed many times by a ponny with bloodlust.\n\nPonny's eyes turn back to normal.\n\n\"The fuck?\"\n\nPonny looks at you with an angry face.\n\n\"Right. No swearing. Sorry.\"\n\n\"*neighs*\"\n\nThen it disappears. It was a weird day.",
"\"But I don't understand...\" I questioned Gornak the Soul Eater, \"why do you need the huge shoulder pads?\"\nHe looked at me as if I had eaten a live cat in front of him. \n\"Have you ever seen a villain without shoulder pads? Shoulder pads are where it's AT right now!\" \n\nI looked back at Gornak, knowing it was hopeless to try changing his mind, and knowing I had to try anyway. If nothing else, making this armour would make me look like an amateur. \"fair enough, shoulder pads are typically stylish, and I know you can carry the weight of them, but seriously, this is too much\". \n\nI picked up the diagra- sketch he had drawn. Everything looked pretty much ok as far as evil villains go. Big Black Sword, plenty of pointy bits over the jet black armour, devilish looking helmet. All fairly standard. But those shoulder pads. \n\"I mean honestly, you won't even be able to fit through the BIG doors with these things!\"\nHe looked at me seriously. He carried on looking at me seriously. After a while of looking serious, he said \"maybe you're right. Maybe five feet apiece is too mu-\"\n\n\"FIVE FEET IS DEFINITELY TOO MUCH! HONESTLY, RIDING A HORSE WOULD BE PRACTICALLY IMPOSSIBLE, NOT TO MENTION RIDING THROUGH FORESTS, BEING CAUGHT WITH ROPES OR NETS, ARE EVEN SIMPLY BEING GRABBED! PUTTING THEM ON WOULD BE A NIGHTMARE, TAKING THEM OFF WOULD BE EVEN WORSE! THESE THINGS WOULD BE ALMOST AS BIG AS YOU ARE! THE IMPRACTICALITIES ARE ENDLESS!!\" \n\nIt is not a good idea, nor very professional, to shout at someone who has the ability to eat souls to gain their strength. But Gornak and I went back a long way, since I crafted his first leather set so he could mug people in forests. Thankfully he didn't seem too upset about my little rant. He looked at his sketch, sighed, and looked back to me. He looked quizzical. Eventually asked the question I'd been waiting for. \n\n\n\"Maybe four feet?\"\n\nNow we're talking. \n\n",
"\"Run that by me again,\" I said to Rob. His full name was Robert Elvernia, Destroyer of the Sanctum but after forty years of this I have given up on my customers full names.\n\n\"I need to you make me unbreakable armor, colored in all black, and resistant to all materials on this planet. It needs to be unpenetrable by both blade and arrow, as well as be able to deflect any spell.\" \n\n\n\"And?\" I replied\n\n\"And what? Do you think it needs more?\" He said.\n\n\"No that sounds..... perfect. I have been waiting my whole life to make something like this.\" I beemed\n\n\n\"I don't understand.\" Rob seemed confused. \"You craft armor for the most evil beings in this world , yet armor like this has never been asked for?\"\n\n\"Well, you see most of my customers, when they ask for armor tend to make it seem great on paper, but always design one fatal flaw, such as unneccesary weak points in the back, or armor made of flammable materials.\" I told him, rellucant to give him any ideas.\n\n\"That seems.... incredibly stupid.... downright awfully stupid. We are trying to conquer a world here, the practical solution to that is to have something that would save you from all weapons known to man.\" \n\nAs those words came out of Robs mouth I breathed a sigh of relief. Finally my true abilities as a master blacksmith will come to flourishin. Finally I can say I have made something truly amazing.\n\n\"Can I get you anything else?\" I asked proudly. A feeling I have not felt since my first few jobs. \n\n\"No that should about cover..... wait I would also like an axe.\" Rob said with a look of gusto in his eyes.\n\n\"Wonderful my lord, what type of axe would you like?\" I asked with anticipation.\n\n\n\"I would like a show piece, to keep behind my throne. It needs to be gold, fitted with your finest jewels, something truly remarkable.\" \n\n\n\"Of course, of course.\" I was writing down the specifications\n\n\n\"And it needs to be the only thing in the world that can break the armor.\"\n\n\n\"GOD FUCKING DAMNIT\" \n\nEdit: Spelling"
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[removed] | [WP] Absolutely fed up with the election process, the majority of the American people write-in Giant Meteor on Election Day. It gets 270 electoral votes. | 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\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/5bauj4/wp_absolutely_fed_up_with_the_election_process/%0A%0A)"
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[WP]"God help us." "God will not help you, why would he? When he was the one who sent me." | 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",
"My job is a relatively simple one, but it's not really an easy one. There isn't a \"god(s)\" or \"God\" but there is me. I am death, destruction, hell, I don't really care what you call me, but you humans think just call me evil. Almost every massacre, serial killing, natural disaster, genocide, anything that involves a large number of casualties, I'm either the cause or part of it. I am the embodiment of destruction and death. I just sort of appear when I'm needed. As if the nonexistent God summons me to do my job. I've been around since time started, I've seen century after century, millenia after millenia wreaking havoc and death.\n\nIt'd been about a month or two since I was last in the mortal world. It was hard to tell how much time was passing, it's sort of like that state when you're sleeping, but you still realize that stuff is happening around you. Except that when I \"sleep\" I see everything. I see everyone in the world moving and living, vaguely but I still see it. So whenever I arrive somewhere, whether that be a human embodiment or a something like a storm or fire, I always know where I am. \n\nBefore I appeared, I knew my mission, what had to be done. I appeared in Kansas, some thirty miles outside of Topeka. It was a small town, about sixty years ago I watched a kid for months, he was interesting to me. So kind and yet not all... there in the head. Anyways, he's not important to this story. I appeared in the backyard of a home. It was an old colonial home, it was large, but however large the house was, the yard was larger. It went back into the woods in which I stood, gazing towards the house. \n\nI saw a young woman, she was playing with a toddler. She was the mother of the boy, their names appeared in my head, Jane and Zach. Jane was a nice woman, always kind and cheerful. Zach was a handful, though. Jane was only twenty-four years old but she looked older from the stress her child put on her. Jane was very beautiful, she attracted many suitors but she was also smart, she didn't flaunt her beauty or wealth, she knew that her looks would one day fade and she should look for \"the one.\" It took her years but she did. She was seventeen when she met Jake, he was a year younger than her but he fell head over heels in love with her. Jake was a smart boy, he was taking courses a year ahead than anybody else in his grade, he shared a class with Jane, that's how they met, English class. He was so nervous to talk to her that she came to believe that he had a stutter from their earliest talks. But by the end of the semester, they were in love. They married after being together for six years. Jane became a college professor while Jake started his own business. Then came along Zach, all was well.\n\nI watched as Jane ushered her son up onto the deck and into the house. I examined my own vessel. I was extremely pale and lanky. Long, dark hair clouded my field of vision which made me have to keep pushing it to the side which I found very annoying. I was wearing all black clothes and had a backpack with me. I opened it to see a length of pipe, rope, a hatchet, lighter fluid with a color matching lighter, and a sturdy flashlight. \n\nI looked at the setting sun and watched darkness settled over the land. I crept towards the house. I was sure that there were security measures in place, I seemed to recall Jake buying some. With the amount of money that was in the family, I would be throughly surprised if there wasn't something like bodyguards or motion activated floodlights or even thermal imaging cameras pointed at anything that could pose as a threat to the family. \n\n I took the pipe from my pack and crept towards the deck. I reached the foot of the stairs when I heard the sliding glass door open and close. I heard the beep of an electronic lock and the shuffling of feet towards me. I quickly dived underneath the deck and saw shoes going down the steps of the stairs. I heard the man yawn and open some kind of glass bottle, most likely beer. His back was turned to me, he had short red hair and was tall and burly. I recognized him as Ethan. \n\nI slinked towards Ethan, pipe in hand. I raised it and swung. The pipe connected with a sickening crack and sent Ethan to the ground, unconscious. I patted him down and found his key card. I took and and dragged him under the deck. I stepped out from under the deck and walked up the steps of the deck. The deck was large, there was a huge grilling set up the my right and a large pool to my left. I walked right up to the glass door and peered inside. The house was mostly dark, the door led to a hallway and past that hallways was the kitchen. The kitchen was void of people but the past the kitchen was the living room wich faintly glowed with a warm light.\n\nI used Ethan's key card and slid the door open. I stepped inside and was greeted by a blast of cool air. I closed the door and silently walked through the kitchen to the living room. In the living room was a staircase that led to the upper floor. The hallway above shone with stronger light. \n\nI climbed the carpeted stairs and heard the sounds of voices. Jane and Jake's voices. I stalked towards the voices and the light. I peered into the room which the sound and light eminated, inside was little Zach, playing with his parents. They were laughing. \"I'm sorry.\" I muttered. \n\nJane and Jake went quiet quickly but little Zachary kept laughing. \"Ethan?\" Jake called out, \"Is that you?\"\n\nInstead of answering, I stepped through the threshold and into the room. Jake stood up quickly, balling his fists.\n\n\"Who are you?\" He demanded.\n\nI didn't respond.\n\n\"What are you doing here?\" \n\nI could answer that. \"I'm here because I have to be, it is not if my own free will.\"\n\n\"That's stupid everybody has free will.\" Jake said. I eyed Jane, putting herself between me and Zach. \n\n\"Do you think distancing your child from me is going to save him?\" I asked. \n\nJake let loose a guttural scream and tackled me, my pipe flying from my hands. His fists flying, forming new bruises with each punch. I managed to push him off me and scrambled for my pipe. Jake grabbed me and pulled me back, but not before I wrapped my fingers around the piece of metal. I rolled onto my back and swung the pipe, it let loose a ringing sound as it struck Jake in the face, right above his brow. He went limp. \n\nJane screamed. She tried to advance towards Jake but I stood and put myself in between her and her husband.\n\n\"God...\" she sobbed, \"God help us.\"\n\nI cocked my head. \"God will not help you, why would he? When he was the one who sent me.\"\n\nI unzipped my backpack, took out the length of rope and bound Jake with it. Jane was crying and so was Zach. I then retrieved the lighter fluid and proceeded to pour it all over the carpet. Jane's eyes widened. She stood up and took a step towards me.\n\n\"Jane,\" I warned, \"don't try to fight me, it's not going to end well if you do.\"\n\nHer eyes widened more, \"How do you know my name?\"\n\nI opened my mouth to respond but she quickly cut me off, \"You're too young to be one of my old students... you have to be some kind of stalker!\"\n\n\"Please, \" I chortled, \"I'm nothing of the kind, I'm just doing what needs to be done, I'm sorry.\" \n\nI flicked the lighter on, \"I'm so sorry, but this is what must be done, I don't know why, but it must.\" I dropped the lighter onto the carpet. The carpet quickly went up in flames. The fire was licking the ceiling within seconds of it igniting. It quickly spread, enveloping the whole upstairs, with Jane, Jake, Zach, and I. They screamed loudly, so very loud, but they were drowned out by the sound of the roaring fire. I felt the fire flowing off of me, off of my clothes, hair, skin. I collapsed and began to seize. My entire nervous system was in overload, I felt nothing except my inability to breathe. \n\nTime to sleep. Darkness clouded my vision, until it faded completely to black. I slept."
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1,
1
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"1478368513",
"1478389002"
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The idea came to me from a sandbox video game I play (Mount and Blade warband) where you assume the role of a character thrown into the world of Calradia, where 6 factions constantly fight to rule. | [WP] You're a chaotic evil man in a medieval age-like setting with only one goal; causing as much chaos as you possibly can, brining the world to its knees. | 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've been alive a long time. The world was only becoming worse, as much as I tried to save it. Eventually I tired of being moral since I was persecuted, convicted, and crucified. \n\nI was hanging on my cross along with another man, a thief , and another guy that some called messiah, and some celled jew, and some just laughed at. We did not talk much, but at the end, when they stabbed him and he was bleeding out, they caught his blood an a bucket and poured it all over him. And us. \n\nI was alive right before he died, and thirsty. we were all dying of thirst. The torturers stabbed a sponge with a spear, and dipped it into a water bucket next to the thief, and gave him some water. As good as that may seem, the water we received was only enough to slow our own death, so they could revel in our suffering. I refused the sponge offering...intending to just die and be finished with this miserable life. \n\nBut that was not to be, for they dipped the sponge in the blood of the messiah and climbed a ladder beside me, forced my mouth open, and forced me to drink of his blood. Again and again. It was a huge joke for them, and they said I was drinking ' the blood of life.' Thinking that it would act as the water and prolong my agony. \n\nLittle did they know what they did. \n\nWhen He died, he spoke to me before crying out to the heavens. The words are not recorded. But they were real nonetheless . \n\n\" Fear not, for today is not thy day to die, for thy name is not written into the book of death, as are the names of everyone else. Fear not death, for he shall not come for you. I cannot take revenge, for the hour has come for me to leave. But you shall be my agent, not in Paradise, but on earth. In the tomb where they will place me, in a sealed sepulcher from an earlier time lies your means of retribution. Remember it.\" \n\nThose words He spoke to me, and here, centuries later, i remember. \n\nI will not go into the dark times after..when His followers pulled me down in the chaos and placed a dead man on my cross. How the site they called Golgotha was lost to me, how I wandered to different lands, trying to help people and being repeatedly shunned. How it was only when I caused ruin and destruction was I free of discomfort and persecution. Suffice it to say that I turned into an agent of destruction, and the more chaotic my surroundings, the easier it became for me . People would heed my words, and do my bidding, so long as my end goal was ruination. \n\nAnd I became very good..but still His words rang in my head. I have been forced to move on from place to place, as I seem to age very slowly, and have to leave lest they notice and try to stop me. \n\nAnd this brings me back to the beginning. I have searched long for the exact spot, and have finally found it. Catacombs under a mighty temple. I would not have found it were it not for the sinkhole in between the temple wall and the outer city wall. It was in a place no one would notice unless one was on the rooftops, as i happened to be. A small opening, barely large enough for me to squeeze into. But i felt the aura as soon as i dropped in. There was a great round stone that had fallen on a stone slab, and this had cracked the wall of the chamber revealing that that was inside. \n\nThe chamber was small, and as i had no light, I reached in up to my shoulder as far as I could. It was too small to force my body into. It felt as though I was being crawled upon by tiny creatures.And bitten. Insects perhaps. My hand fastened onto something that was putrid and bloated. At first, repulsed, I pulled my arm out. In the dim light from the opening, I could see black grains of sand. But they were moving. And I felt a burning sense of urgency. Almost a compulsion. I forced my arm back in once more and grasped the object and pulled. And pulled out a small fur covered corpse of some unnamed creature.\n\nAs soon as the body came free, the chamber I had found started to shake and collapse, as did the chamber I had crawled into from the sinkhole opening. I threw the creature into a leather satchel I carried, as the compulsion to leave was stronger than any I had ever known. \n\nMy work here was done. \n\nI escaped the chamber and went to my abode to see what I had discovered. Besides fleas, which were now covering my body. But curiously, they dropped and died in the sunlight, so I did not open my burden until I was safely home. There, I opened the pouch to see the body writhing with fleas. But they seemed not to leave the body or jump out upon me, much to my surprise. \n\nI sat in thought, trying to make sense of this thing He wanted me to have, and how to use it. I decided to make myself a small repast, and began to prepare a hot meal. At this point, the smell of my cooking attracted a one of the many rats that come to feed on scraps in the poor section of town i was staying in. As soon as the rat appeared, the flap to the satchel gave a little flip and fleas attacked the him. What happened next is...well, it cannot be coincidence . One of the local guards who occasionally does shakedowns of the poor appeared at my door. The rat scurried by him and out of the door, and he came in demanding something of value in order for him to 'protect 'me from thieves and robbers. He looked into the satchel, and threw it down in disgust. All I had was my meal, which he refused, saying that I was unclean and he should report me. He said he would be back on the morrow, and I should either pay him or prepare to be driven out from the city and be scourged. As if that had not happened before. He then turned to leave, and slapped at himself a few times and complained about the vermin and pests in my abode. \n\nTwo days later he came back, and could barely walk. He had huge blisters on him, blood stained his tunic from his vomit, and he was nearly raving from fever. His fingertips were already turning black, and I knew now what I will be doing soon. As I now know what my retribution shall be. For so as the guards tried to show me the end, the guards now show me the beginning. \n\nLooking around me now, I see dozens of rats waiting patiently. They are willingly climbing into my baskets and boxes that I have prepared for my journey. The boxes stacked around a central box that contains many small holes in the sides, and a leather satchel in the center. They will all go inside when the time is right, and emerge in each new town we stop in. \n\nThe year is 1346 and we have an entire world to visit. My little friends and I will soon humble the arrogant, the rich, the poor, the believers and the non. We shall spare none. If I do my job as I should, Maybe He will lift this curse from me and let me rest. In the meantime, I smile at what is to come, and I alone shall remain to see the world brought to its knees. \n\n[The year is 1346, and I bring the plague, the Black Death, to the world.](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Black_Death)\n\n"
] | [
1,
1
] | [
"1478390273",
"1478392418"
] |
[WP] "I'm telling you, there's something not quite right about that goat." | 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'm telling you, there's something not quite right about that goat\", Michael explained. Michael's been like this ever since I've known him; he is every kind of paranoid you can imagine. He's an obsessive-compulsive, agoraphobic hypochondriac with just over a dozen different disorders. He's had a hard time making friends because of it. The last time I brought him to a night-out with four of my colleagues, he swore up and down that a man was going around spiking people's drinks; including his own. Against my better judgement, I confronted that person, who turned out to be the owner of the bar. You can probably guess what happened to us immediately afterwards.\n\nMichael is a family friend. I don't think I would've ever had been friends with him had it been otherwise. His father passed away a year after he was born; his mother worked three jobs to support Michael through school and college. He was a normal kid for a while, or so my mother tells me, until a robber broke into his house while his mother was working. The robber tied him in the bathroom and left him in there until his mother got back from the graveyard shift. Since that point, he stayed at my place when his mother was away, but he wasn't the same. Or so my mother tells me.\n\nMichael and I have both graduated from University a year ago. He's had trouble landing a job for more than two weeks. He said it's because the jobs weren't for him; I think it was the other way around. I decided to convince him to take a trip with me up to the Highlands, to help clear his head. In many ways, I'd hoped that something will help him calm down, if only for a little bit. Maybe it's a futile attempt to fix him. I had prayed something might change in him. But when he brought up the goat, I gave up.\n\n\"Something is just off\", Michael continued. He had started to be gripped by one particular goat, 150 yards down the field. I lost hope in the main effort in this trip. I thought to myself that hopefully, since I'd brought my DSLR and a new telephoto lens, I could've salvaged this trip into a decent photography expedition.\n\n\"It's a goat, Michael. What could possibly be off about a goat?\"\n\n\"Look, it's away from all the other goats!\" he exclaimed.\n\n\"Michael, it's probably just grazing or something.\" I don't even think that goats graze. Hell, I don't even know what grazing is. I just needed to say something to calm him down. It was fruitless.\n\n\"Doug, you have to believe me. It's freaking me out!\"\n\n\"Just leave the goat alone.\"\n\n\"Doug, ple-\"\n\n\"Michael, I've had enough of this. I had hoped that after everything, EVERYTHING, this trip would somehow get you to make some steps towards getting over your anxiety but it's clear that even if I take you away from everything that could possibly make you anxious, you fixate on a docile animal! What's next when the goat is gone, huh? The hills have eyes?!\" I had ranted so intently that I didn't even realise that Michael had ignored me this entire time, remaining possessed by the image of some random, loner goat. A match made in heaven, if you ask me. \n\n\"Michael, are you even listen-...\" He rushed over to my camera bag and pulled out my DSLR, attached the lens, zoomed into the 200mm maximum and took a picture of the goat, all in a single moment. I was baffled by this bout of immediacy and seeming lack of anxiety by him. Michael before would've never even dared to move my phone two inches to the right on the kitchen counter-top.\n\nI snapped to my senses. \"Michael, we're going home now. I'm sick of this.\" I noticed that Michael was intently staring at the viewfinder on the camera. \"I hope you're proud of yourself.\"\n\n\"Doug...\" Michael without moving his head, quiveringly whispered in my direction. His body was stunned; the only things that moved were his arms, to point the camera's viewfinder towards me.\n\nThe goat was staring straight into the camera. \n\n\n\n-- Hey, anybody reading this; this is my first story on Writing Prompts and I've been meaning to get back into writing for a while. I'm probably a bit (okay, very) rusty, but any tips or writing advice would be appreciated. Also, thanks OP for the amazing writing prompt! --",
"Have you ever noticed how disgusting the eyes of a goat are? They’re like hyphens in a sea of slime, unmoving, unchanging, staring with a wide depth that can’t become comprehended. I’m not saying other parts of the goat are particularly pleasant, but I’ve always found these eyes unsettling, as if they’re seeing something personal that I don’t particularly want them to pay heed to. Not to mention the biblical connotations of these eyes, seeing Satan in their gaze. \n\nHowever, goats nowadays are fairly docile. It would be a strange to see a herd of goats participating in a séance to summon the lord of evil himself, though that’s exactly what I saw that night. It was dark and stormy, and I was arriving at the scene of a call for some suspicious activity. Now, it’s not uncommon to be getting these calls of cults and the extranormal during the spirit of Halloween, so I was hardly concerned. Probably just another group of kids getting a good scare, and an even better laugh out of it. I parked my car, and made sure it was locked. If there were kid messing around, I certainly didn’t want them messing around in my vehicle, doing any damage to the interior of my new ride. I moved noisily into the field, announcing my presence, which was further emphasized with the beam of a blinding flashlight which shined from one direction to another in the search of these delinquents. I was not far into the field when I began to hear the rustling of the dried corn. It was then I saw it. \n\nNot far from the entrance of the field lie a clearing of corn, driven in a curved line, with a straight line cleared further into the crop. Now I’ve never been one to believe in crop circles or anything of the like, and this clearing of corn was further evidence of this suspicious activity. I had a feeling I would be finding the kids who took the great idea of not only trespassing, but causing property damage as well. However, I was quickly startled by a bleating to my left, and I saw around the curve a goat eating into the corn crop, in an equally straight line as the one I was staring at. I moved carefully towards the goat, and my movement seemed to startle him. He looked sharply in my direction, and charged full speed, knocking the bright light from my hand, leaving me in the darkness. I felt the pressure of a beast against my chest, and I fell to the ground. \n\nThat was the last thing I had remembered, and when I awoke, I found myself here, in the middle of the corn crop, surrounded by five unhappy looking goats, standing at equal lengths of about six meters away from me in perfect diagonals. The ground was lit only by the light of the moon, yet the eyes of the goats were lit with a light so piercing it was hard to stare. It wasn’t until the goats systematically moved closer that I noticed something was very wrong. I’m telling you, there was something not right about these goats. I wasn’t about to stay around and find out, and I hauled it out of the field as quick as I could, the corn crops burning my skin as it slashed past me. I had no idea which direction I was running, but all I knew was I needed out. Thankfully, after just several minutes, I bounded into the roadside grass, with my new car in plain view, glinting in the blessed moonlight. I ran as quickly as I could towards it, wheezing to my last lungs by the time I arrived. I reached into my pocket to grab the keys, only to find, they were gone. I turned my head back to the corn, to see 10 patches of fire lit eyes slowly advancing towards me from the edges of the corn. \n\nI pulled on the handle of the car as hard as I could, but the locks would simply not budge. The goats came closer and closer, while I became more and more frightened. As they reached a close distance, they began to charge, bashing my head against the exterior with a resounding thud, and I could tell my car was surely dented. Dammit. As I lay there on the ground in defeat, they came closer, forcing me to stare into their eyes, as if mocking me. \n\nHave you ever noticed how disgusting the eyes of a goat are? They’re like hyphens in a sea of slime, unmoving, unchanging, staring with a wide depth that can’t be comprehended. It’s no longer simply biblical times where these eyes have haunted the masses of the human population. The goats are back, and they’re here with the fury of hell itself. \n\nHey, this is one of my first stories, so if you've got anything to help me along, it would be greatly appreciated. It's likely to be overlooked, but if you have any comments to send my way, I would always like to hear them. Thanks!\n"
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1,
1,
2
] | [
"1478399235",
"1478401452",
"1478401073"
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Or any other haunting conclusion | [WP] Centuries from now, someone discovers emojis were used – much like the Egyptian hieroglyphs – to communicate. Their interpretation of it leads them to the conclusion that the 21st century was a very, very odd period of time. | 65 | [
"\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",
"In the past things had more intent. They had purpose. He wondered what that meant, if they were more artistic then, but he was an archaeologist, not a philosopher. But there was no denying the charm of the past.\n\n\nHolt was young and it was his first job. So much had changed from his forefathers’ time. Words were taught to him in school, but this was his first time seeing them being used outside in the real world. Communication had moved past medium. Breakthroughs in neuroscience had allowed for the sharing of thoughts, intentions, what we really wanted to say. Words seemed so archaic in comparison.\n\n\nAnd these were not words. Silently, he touched the old screen, an old technology from a different time. There were pictures, smileys and symbols. Holt knew what they meant. Things had been well documented, but yet it seemed so foreign. To think ideas were once spread like that. Holt didn’t know how he felt.\n\n\nHe was writing his thesis. Some things never change. A doctor of archaeology. It had a ring to it like those old movies, the one that starred Denex Harrison as Indiana Jones.\n\n\n*Those were based on even older movies,* he thought. *Movies you had to watch physically.*\n\n\nBut he had never seen them. And he was getting sidetracked. Holt had found his thesis. He held the old relic to his eyes and scrolled through the old images. He had found it indeed.\n\n\nThe reception was unthinkable. Holt was praised and lauded. He became a doctor and his paper on the Sentient Generation became a sensation. Holt argued that since the dawn of civilization, the invention of language and writing, humans were always trying to communicate the truth. The human condition has always been about expressing what we really are, what we really mean. Advancements in science had made this possible before Holt’s time, but before then communication was abstract and only an approximation. \n\n\nThe Sentient Generation had made great strides with what little they had, he postulated. Moving past words, they expressed their feelings with something more direct, more meaningful. The concise symbols of emojis had allowed for more nuanced emotion, more meaningful expression than any words could convey. Holt argued that this was the first stride in the neurological connections that would eventually replace physical communication.\n\n\n“They were the first to achieve true sentience,” he said.\n\n\nBut of course he didn’t really say it. It was all communicated wordlessly around the world.\n\n\n“They were the first to see that written words, no matter how advanced and with countless rules, would never suffice for true communication. For true connectivity. These people were the first to shrug off the shackles of literature and the stuffy leanings of tradition. They embraced the then scary concept, the radical thinking of the time. They embraced illiteracy and with that, they became more in touch with themselves. This was truly the beginning of sentience.”\n\n\nAnd so it was that history was written. "
] | [
1,
10
] | [
"1478439005",
"1478457891"
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[WP] All of a person's memories are in a single book kept on their person. You wake up in a bed, and find a book with all but a single page torn out. | 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",
"It was a small book compared to most. But that was because I hadn't lived very much.\n\nSome pages contained lines upon lines of information given from study. The book would grow and more pages would appear when new experiences, memories or facts were remembered. Each page symbolised something different from the next. But as a high school student, it didn't contain the pages filled with fine print that showed a deep understanding and knowledge that a scientist would have. Nor, did it have many pages with large print that would come with experiencing the thrill of adrenaline such as skydiving or a first kiss. Still, I was contempt with it. It had everything that I had done in my life and if I ever forgot something, I could look back and find it again.\n\nIt's 7am on a Wednesday, no- I just checked my phone, it's a Friday. I woke up to get ready for school. Unlike some of my peers, I enjoyed school. More accurately, I enjoyed my friends. They were all different in their own ways which made things interesting and enjoyable whenever I saw them. I couldn't wait to see them today! \n\nThere's J.. anna, She's so nice and kind to others. She bakes in her free time and sometimes bring cookies for me and- uh..- Da. No. Wait. \n\nHow do I know her? And...and... what does she look like? Why do I trust her when I don't know-\n\nI opened my book, flipping through the pages as fast as I could. I know it. The pages are made in chronological order, it's somewhere near the end... Highschool. My best friends, the people I shared the most time with, all the places we went to hang out. I can't remember.\n\nTears start to well up in my eyes, I know I'm getting close, the pages I'm looking at are only a few months old. The whole time I'm digging in my memory, trying to remember something, anything, about the people who I held, dearest to me. The pages start to blur as the tears start to fall down my face, I wipe them away because I know it's only a few more pages until I get there, oh why didn't I just open from the back of the book?. \n\nI keep rubbing my eyes as the pages as my vision is still blurred when all of a sudden I reach the back cover. I wipe my eyes a final time to look at the page. It's gone, it looked like it was hastily ripped out diagonally from the base of the book leaving some of the top of the page. Names? There's Janna and a few others. But the rest blurry to the point of being unreadable. The longer I stare at the blur, the more it seems to fade. I flip back a few pages to see if any of my previous memories can help me remember but most of the lines are blurred with only a few letters left readable. I stare at what is left of my book, 1 page ripped out and many more pages too blurry to read. As the tears started to form again I notice something, staring at some letters would reveal the word. The \"**o**\" slowly revealed \"**Don't**\" written in a bold font compared to the rest of the letters on the page. Don't what? \n\nI flipped through more pages with words slowly clearing and my memory coming back in pieces. There was something yesterday, what was it. It was significant to me. What was it? a sport? a game. I only play futsal at school. I only joined because a friend of mine told me to. I can't wait to play on Thurs- wait, that was yesterday. \n\nTime seemed so distant and far away from me, like I wasn't affected by it. \n\nFeelings of pride and happiness sweep over me and I remember about my team. We aren't very good, but we work hard for every win and enjoy ourselves even if we lose. I love playing as the keeper, being in such an intense situation so often (because of how bad we are as a team) and the cheers from the crowd of students whenever I make a save is exhilarating and a very addictive feeling. \n\nSuddenly the memory floods into my head as I relive it in seconds. We're down 2-1 in the second half. My legs are tired and my concentration is about to break, but my team let a fast break get past them. In a 2 on 1 against my opponents, they pass from the left wing over to the right to catch me off guard but I make a long dive to cover as much of the goals as possible in an effort to block the shot... The memory starts to blur, the crowd suddenly erupts and a feeling of relief fills me, but I feel slow and sluggish as my vision starts to blur and a sharp pain explodes on my forehead before I fade to black.\n\nBut there's something extra to this memory, a thread connected to it. I start to mentally pull this thread to find out where it goes. Suddenly, an intense feeling of affection sweeps over my body, my heart seems to grow and a smile creeps onto my face as the memory starts to surface.\n\nIt's a person, someone shorter than me with long hair. She stand in a shadow so dark that I can't recognise any defining features.\n\n\"Join the team, I know you'll enjoy it and I'll be able to come cheer for you\"\n\nThe shadow seems to fade as she starts to smile, it's a big smile that pushes her cheeks up and her makes her eyes sparkle. A smile that makes me heart pound and makes my lips curve upwards without realising it. \n\n\"**Don't ignore how you feel**\"\n\n~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~\n\nSorry guys, didn't mean for this to this long. This is how having amnesia from a concussion felt to me when I experienced it. The WP just seemed to fit really well with what happened to me. I'm sorry my writing isn't the best, even I can see it, but I have finals to study for.\n\n(Also a new found respect for those who write amazing stories on this sub)"
] | [
1,
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"1478490577",
"1478523213"
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[WP] You're an alchemist. Adventurers ask for some really stupid things. | 56 | [
"\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 always liked adventurers. Whether the naïve farm lad seeking fame and fortune, or the ominous lone figure shrouded in cloaks and mystery, or even sleazy Old Man Jenkins on his never-ending quest to get laid, I never judged. I barely make ends meet, as it is, being an odds and ends alchemist in the ho-dunk village of Crosstown (because the town is shaped like a cross sign from above), so I appreciate all the business I can get. \n\tEither way, I only have to stay here a few more years for my residency. I had graduated top of my class at Alchemy Southwestern over in Waysford with a bright future ahead of me. All I had left to do before becoming a wealthy alchemist in a bustling city at the peak of civilization was my residency term in this quaint little hole in the ground. Unfortunately, my eclectic customers were not making it so easy. \n\tEvery day I would wake up at dawn in my cramped attic bedroom, drag myself out of bed, and eventually hobble downstairs to my cozy little alchemy shop. I’d sprinkle a fresh layer of dust on my various potions and wares to add that classic dusty potion shop feel (what, did you think the dust just came out of nowhere?), and by about nine a.m. I begin the day by flipping the moldy wooden sign to “open.” I swear by all the gods that were and to be that a moment after flipping the sign, someone would come in immediately. One would imagine that someone to be the adventurers seeking healing potions to aid their quest to quench the wrath of a fiery dragon or the ambitious mage seeking that rare, exotic ingredient for his new spell or maybe even a brave warrior in need of dangerous materials to slay an otherwise invulnerable foe. One would be wrong because every day I get adventurers, oh yes, who appears the prototypical adventurer of all types, but are shopping for something less…exciting to say the least. \n\tOn a day like any other, a confident knocking had drawn my attention after flipping the sign. I turned and smiled when I saw him. Wiping the grin from my face, I called out for him to enter. A strapping young man with blazing blue eyes and impressive stature, clad in the finest steel armor and the cocky air of the bravest of adventurers, strode into my shop. A sharp, yet satisfying metallic thump resounded through the cheap wood of the floorboards with each step of the impressive man. My face contorted as I tried to contain myself. \n\t“Welcome! Welcome, weary traveler! Welcome to my humble little shop!” I shouted, only the slightest cracking in my voice. \n\t“How may I help you today? An elixir to protect against dragon’s breathe perhaps? Or maybe a draught of invisibility for a covert mission will interest you? Surely, a miracle cure for your cursed soul mate?” \n\tThe man smiled, his attractive facial structure forming a perfect curve, the light playing off his eyes most pleasantly. Then in a heavenly voice, the epitome of all that is manly and adventurous, he spoke. \n\t“Greetings young alchemist! I’m afraid I’ll have to decline on those. I’m actually in need of a special request, one that can only be fulfilled by the most skilled and learned of the arcane craft of alchemy. A true practitioner of alchemy! A master alchemist to assist me on my grand quest!”\n\tMy legs trembled as a lone tear rolled down from my eye. The day had finally come; I would finally fulfill a request worthy of my skill!\n\t“I-I am m-more than up to the task, young adventurer! W-w-what would you like me to make for you?” I stammered excitedly.\n\t“Splendid! I must save my betrothed from a dastardly pirate and I need a potion to destroy the source of his vile magics! \n\t“Wonderful! Absolutely wonderful! I mean, not about your lady being in the clutches of a scoundrel, but the task sounds worthy of my talents! So tell me more about this pirate, what is the source of his dark powers?” \n\t“Well, it’s obvious is it not? I believed it to be common knowledge.” He scoffed. \n\t“Apologies, my good lord, but I do not follow. Magic users tend to have myriads of different sources of power. Perhaps a gem or ornate trinket in his possession? Or is his ship the source?” \n\t“I’m shocked at your ignorance and naivete. The source of power for pirates are all one and the same.” He replied with growing annoyance. \n\t“Please, my lord, then enlighten me with your knowledge.” I replied with waning pride. \n\t“It’s in the pie.” \n\t“I’m sorry?” \n\t“Well, I don’t know what sort of pie it is exactly, may it be apple or blueberry, or God forbid, rhubarb…” \n\t“Pie, my lord?” my brow furrowed in confusion. \n\t“Yes, you incompetent charlatan of an alchemist. PIE! That’s why they are “pie-ritz,” it really is quite obvious.” \n\tThe entire building rumbled as the door slammed shut, the brand new dust flying off the shelves. Aftershocks resounded up the stairs until a final crash into the bed. Perhaps tomorrow will be the day.\n",
"I sat at my alchemists table behind the counter of my shop. I took a pinch of powdered Riverweed and sprinkled it into the bubbling concoction I had sitting in front of me. \n\n\"Alright,\" I mumbled to myself. \"Now all that's left to do is let this simmer for the next hour and a half, bottle it up and I'll have a hot batch of mana potions for those stupid shut-ins down at the guild.\" I didn't particularly like them; the mages. They were a bunch of antisocial weirdos who sit in their basement all day doing gods-know-what. But they keep to themselves and they pay well so I never object to filling out any contracts they offer up my way.\n\nI stood up and leaned over the counter glancing around my small little store. Sometimes I wonder why I even opened a shop. I rarely would get any walk-in customers. Normally I'd get a letter from a carrier pigeon with a contract from someone who knew what the hell they wanted. Most of my walk-ins were people who hadn't the first clue about alchemy. People who thing that potions can do anything. Adventurers.\n\nI'll be the first to admit that I generalize too much. I'm sure not all adventurers are drooling morons but the vast majority of them are. At least the ones I've dealt with. \n\nOne came in asking for a love potion a few weeks back, not knowing that love potions are nothing more than an urban myth. Once I told him that, he thought I was speaking in code or something. Tried to coax it out of me. By winking and talking about urban myths as if that meant something else.\n\nI had a backup for when things like this came up. A case of small concoctions that looked like potions but were nothing more than bottles of alchemic waste. Drink this stuff and you'll be spewing out both ends inside an hour. It was always fun hearing murmers around town about the fellow who shat himself and started vomiting while talking to the innkeeper. Or in this case, a woman at the tavern who the adventurer was trying to chat up. \n\nSometimes I'd get much more eager and hasty customers. Like one who saw the label \"Dragon's Breath\" under a small red vial and immediately thought that it would give her the ability to breathe fire. She picked it up and downed it almost immediately. At first I was furious that she drank a potion without paying until I realized she drank a chemical designed to be mixed with cannon powder. Turn the cannonball into a white hot, exploding piece of metal. She fell to her knees, grabbed her stomach and groaned in pain before looking at me with a terrified expression. I ducked behind the counter and covered my head with my hands. I had a much bigger problem on my hands than a loss of inventory.\n\nI had to close up shop for a full week to clean up the mess she made. The scorch mark where she last knelt is still burned into the floor.\n\nI've had a single good experience with an adventurer. He came in with a limp and asked me if I had anything that would help a sprained ankle. I handed him a healing potion, he handed me some gold, thanked me and that was the end of it.\n\nI heard footsteps outside and turned my attention to the door. A figure in cheap looking armor walked in. I saw that look in his eyes. The need for an adventure. \n\n\"Sorry, we're closed.\" I said before he could say a word.\n\n\"But the sign outside says 'open'.\" he replied.\n\n\"Oh it is? Must have forgot to change it. Get out,\" I snapped. I started toward him and physically pushed him outside.\n\n\"I... I just need a truth serum.\" he pleaded.\n\n\"Those don't exist.\" I said before turning the sign to say 'Closed' and slamming the door in his face. I was having a peaceful, relaxing afternoon. I don't need this crap today.",
" SCENE:\n\n(Alchemist stands over a bubbling cauldron)\n\nAlchemist: Hello there, everyone! You may know me as Mikal, greatest alchemist in all the land. People come from all over to buy my amazing potions and concoctions. Love potions? I got em. Healing remedies? Always in stock! Poisons of all sorts? Sure thing, just show me your permit!\n\nMikal: Say, have you ever wanted to know how I do it? I bet you have. That's why I'm opening up a school. Finally you and all your friends can learn all about the ancient art of alchemy! For the small price of 20 gold pieces, you can enroll in Alchemic Academy in Hammerhold!\n\nMan: I went to Mikal's shop to help me lose weight, and he gave me a potion that made me become completely in shape! Enroll now!\n\nWoman: I don't trust doctors for anything since I learned alchemy! It's all homebrewed potions for me! I had a life-threatening curse from a demon, and all it took was a little evaporated healing slicer to cure me. For your own good, you better enroll!\n\n______________________________________________\n\nMikal stood, back hunched over his cauldron. He much preferred pots and stoves, but hey, you have to put on a show. His students would be here any minute. He'd already taught them everything he knew about actual alchemy, which wasn't a lot. If he could turn iron into gold, he wouldn't need to be running this place anymore. Now it was all about magic potions and elixirs.\n\nHe heard a bell ring, and knew Gilius was there. He was always first to arrive in the morning. He took the seminars very seriously, which would be to his own downfall when he realized potions didn't actually exist. Magic liquids certainly did, but you can't just mix stuff together, say a little spell, and drink it. The most basic rule of magic is that all magic comes from the user. The closest thing you could get to a magic elixir was your own piss. Mikal didn't like lying, but 20 gold was 20 gold. Supplies ain't cheap. \n\nFootsteps gained closer, and a faint scream echoed. Mikal was mildly concerned. The footsteps were of a bulky man, from the sound of it. Probably wearing heavy armor. A customer. \n\nMikal hung up his ladle and stumbled to the shop room. A weary young warrior with a fearful look in his eye sat at a stool, sword drawn and held at his side. He looked relieved to see Mikal.\n\n\"Finally! Please, you have to help. Demons have attacked Hammerhold and you're the only alchemist I know of. I saw your commercial on the crystal ball and knew to find you. You must be a very good alchemist. I keep hearing about you, and it was a really good commercial. I know you run a school and all, but if you could just give me a potion of strength I would pay double. Please, I need you.\" A desperate tone was present in his shaky voice.\n\nMikal replied, \"Of course. Just one moment.\" He took his time to carefully reach for a bottle, and leisurely walk to the restroom. He removed the cork from the bottle, and poured in some magic potion. When it was sufficiently filled with the warm liquid, he tightly closed the non-transparent bottle. He brought it back and plopped it on the counter. The adventurer gladly took it and popped it open with almost inhuman strength and conviction, whilst sliding the proper payment across the counter. He had finished the potion before he had even left the door. \n\n*Poor soul,* thought Mikal. *I wonder if any of the demons would like to spare 20 gold for a lesson or two.*",
"######[](#dropcap)\n\nKelliut Fargus had been born to a wealthy family and taught by the most distinguished tutors before he left home to study in Doterra's Holy City of Faith. On his Twenty-Fourth naming day, he presented his first work of importance to the holy order of Alchemists for the more effective method of Magic inductions of atmospheric compositions. If that hadn't been enough on its own, on his Twenty-Sixth naming day, Kelliut then went on to further his research in the applications of farming efficiency with the intent of creating a more effective means for production to cost.\n\nHis discoveries and relative ease of process soon increased farming yields by a wide margin, earned him several awards- and more than just a small quantity of wealth and recognition. As a result of his break-through with the application of magic to soil compositions, Doterra's inner townships began to prosper tremendously, and many Licences Mages were sanctioned by the High Church for needs outside of mercenary drafting.\n\nIn short, Kelliut Fargus became a celebrity. He'd had it all: Riches, fame, power, respect. For a golden era of briefest occurrence, he had what most could only dream of possessing- and he had it in excess. His opinions on matters of importance we sought out: Thoughts of political gain were quickly turned along to more than simple musings, and the potential for lordship was well within his grasp.\n\nThen he'd made the honest mistake of late-night excursions with the wrong High-Bishop's twin daughters a few to many times, and suddenly the itself faith had turned against him. In not a weeks time, it was as if all of his accomplishments had been forgotten. The Great Alchemist of the people's faith was reduced to a godless heathen in the eyes of the masses.\n\nIn short order his wealth and estates were stripped, his name was synonymous with some lesser curses used by mill-toting farmers, and his awards revoked while an angry mod of peasants ran him out of town with a half emptied wagon of whatever he could grab and the only horse that hadn't yet been sold for coin to bribe safe-passage out of the City's Northern Gates.\n\nFifteen years passed him by, and now that horse was dead, that wagon dismantled for wood, and his name was stripped from the history books- yet he'd still not found it safe to return. So long as the Bishop was yet to keel over and die in god's grace, there was a dangerous grudge present, so instead Kelliut found a much more humble and rewarding life as a vastly over-qualified shop-keeper, helping the people which came to him for trinkets, medicine, and simple chemical constructions.\n\nBut sometimes... Sometimes he had people like *this.*\n\n\"I'm looking for a yellow powder that can sometimes smell terrible.\" For the fifth time this week, the Battle-Mage at the counter had walked in, ignoring everything in the small shop but the Alchemist himself. \"I was hoping you might have some.\"\n\n\"Come again?\" The great Kelliut Fargus had fallen low, forced to bend knee and puzzle out the thoughts of a foreign madman. It was even more humiliating that he'd still not made the slightest hint of progress in doing so. \"I'm not certain I understand.\"\n\n\"I know, I know- but this is the last thing I'm searching for. A yellow powder, one that might be a bit chalky if I remember right, it often forms near volcanoes in odd crystals.\" The man never seemed to quit.\n\nThis would be the seventh peculiar request so far, and still Kelliut could not for the life and soul of the matter decide what was being done with the rather dramatic expenditure of silver that fell freely from the man's purse. Adventurers were more often than not *peculiar* folk, but this one was pushing the boundaries even for a Battle-Mage. Almost 80 pieces of Pure-minted, Doterra-Crown, branded with distinction Silver had been exchanged in his favor now, and yet Kelliut felt as though he were somehow being used as the butt of a sinister joke. The Alchemist had never heard of so many seemingly unrelated requests: \n\nCrystals extracted from refined manure or caves filled with bat-droppings? \n\nSacks full of lead pebbles meant for children's slings? \n\nWooden containers and a large ceramic vase with cork? \n\nThe purest charcoal available in the province?\n\nAbsolute and random chaos couldn't have chosen more unrelated portions of goods, but for all that insanity- now there was sudden mention of Volcanoes, and Kelliut Fargus considered that fact carefully. That was a rather interesting topic for a madman to bring up, and he was both impressed and befuddled by the knowledge lurking across the counter- only hazarding a most basic guess at the information which lurked within the Battle-Mage's skull.\n\nThe longer he stared through thick-rimmed glasses, the more he could swear by the gods that the Battle-Mage truly was a foreigner, even though such as those were all but unheard of in the Northern Regions of Doterra. It was something about the shoulders, the face- not off, but not quite traditional in the quirks and traits the Alchemist was used to seeing. This presumption was hindered by many things, as not many Foreigners bothered to travel past the main cities, and almost all of them came from the island nations of the South-Eastern sea; although the bothersome Mage didn't possess the classical accent nor the famous bronze skin of an islander. \n\nBut his appearance was odd, his clothing was odder still, and atop of his unusual profession (something usually accredited to spry old men with far too much aptitude and not enough common sense) now he was speaking of Volcanoes. Those were a topic few beyond the Higher Orders of The Church knew of and studied outside of flirting with the stakes and Holy-Knights.\n\n\"I believe the substance you seek is known as *brimstone.*\" The Alchemist spoke slowly as if chewing on each word, while watching the man's features for reaction to the name. There was an odd acknowledgement of recognition noted, but not much to work with in piecing the puzzle together. Instead the Mage simply took out an odd shaped item (that seemed to function as a quill) and a small portion of strange looking parchment, scribbling in unfamiliar text.\n\n\"Brimstone, got it...\" The man murmured quietly to himself. \"So do you have any of it, or should I look elsewhere?\" He glanced up, somewhat apologetic despite his stern features. \"We're running a bit short on time, the Northern March is happening soon and we'd like to be done with this before the lot of us are dragged as able-bodies over the walls.\"\n\n*\"Join the crusade! For Glory! For God!\"* A loud bout of shouting issued from the streets, clamor of steel plates and heavy armor marching along. *\"Even the dragon of legend rides with us!\"* Their cry rose up, filtering through the thick planed windows of the shop as the Alchemist watched the parade with a wary gaze. If he was ten years younger, undoubtedly they would sweep him up in their madness with all the rest. \n\nThe dragon of legend... what foolishness. For Holy Knights to lie so blatantly seemed a mortal sin.\n\n\"The Adventurer's Guild has been drafted by the Church.\" The Battle-Mage let a hand rise to pull at a roughly trimmed beard on his face. \"Seems even Jarl Congrad was forced into it: New leader of the Irregular-Squadron intended for support of the main forces. No one is much pleased about it.\" \n\n\"Aye. They'll take ever able body they can afford.\" Current affairs: Another odd topic for madmen to consider, perhaps there was no joke here at all. \n\nBeyond the parades, Kelliut had seen the banners posted on every available town-post in the region recently. Another Northern rebuttal of the growing hordes of Orcs and Goblins gathering along the borders of the Great Wall. Only a few months prior, the Dark Lord was said to have unleashed an hellish display of power that actually turned the afternoon sky pitch black, and some of the peasants were now murmuring tides of ill-omen and disaster.\n\nAs a man of science, the Alchemist considered much of this nonsense; for small exception of the very real possibility of yet another drawn out war. That much was undoubted certainty, he'd witnessed the lumber and gold heading towards Church coffers trying to find a head-start on the bloodshed. Yet another generation of young men to be wasted.\n\n\"Do you have any of the material in stock? I'd like to purchase as much of it as possible.\" As the cheering crowd ceased, faded off into the distance as it followed the Knights or dispersed, Killiut's attention slowly found its way back to his most recent and frequent customer. \"If not I'll pay for information on where to find some.\"\n\nThe man was just so strange, it was difficult to even make an honest assessment.\n\nBeyond the absurd requests, as always there was an Elf patiently waiting on the man. A dark-elf no less, standing by at the entrance watching them with an odd mix of indecision between seriousness and amusement. Great Mage of Death take them all to the blackened lands, if that wasn't a peculiar sight. Kelliut knew for a fact that none of those had been native to anywhere but the west for hundreds years, and never resided in the company of mortals. The legends clearly said those creatures had fallen into the servitude of evil long, long ago.\n",
"I don't understand adventurers.\n\nI suppose that's why I never became one. Or maybe it's the other way around -- I certainly haven't met anyone else who understands them either.\n\nTake this one lad that came in to the shop recently. Nice boy--Italian, I think. Came into the shop with his brother. They were going after some sort of horned reptilian beast that had stolen the love of his life. \n\nI started gathering an assortment of supplies: healing potions, combat charms, spells of teleportation. All the things you'd want when going off to face a deadly foe. The kid stopped me. They weren't interested in that. \n\n\"Just all of the red and green mushrooms you have, sir. Oh and any roses and feathers would come in very handy as well!\"\n\nI sold them what they wanted and watched bewildered as they went on their way. \n\nI'd never understand adventurers.",
"It's not that I don't like adventurers. There's something almost puppyish about the way they bounce into my shop, leather armor so new it's creaking, and ask for the sheer impossible. \n\nIt makes a change from endless love potions, at least. And every alchemist, even the ultra-serious ones who go to conferences about whether they should call themselves \"pharmacists\" instead, gets a little thrill of excitement at doing the whole adventurer sales pitch, from potions of minor healing (more-or-less a mild antiseptic and some saline) all the way up to potions of blinding insight (basically, think a smoothie made of the braincells of a dead god, and you're not far wrong.) \n\nBut the heroes are irritatingly indirect thinkers, if you understand me, or on occasion far too direct, and they don't really understand the range of options available. I can bottle anything. _Anything_. They hear \"magmabeasts have besieged Cobbletown\" and plonk down their gold sovereigns for potions of fire resistance. They hear \"snake people have captured a caravan\" and ask me for universal antidote. By far the better thing to do would be to figure out what kind of snakepeople they're dealing with - universal antidote is incredibly expensive compared to viper-be-gone or addersbane, and there's no antidote in all the realms that'll help with a boa constrictor.\n\nThe worst part is how cheapskate they can be with the resulting concoction. A hundred dollar's worth of mummy's hand goes into a draught of Everskill, and then they insist on bottling it in the cheapest, most thin-walled vessel I have. Then ten days later they try to undo the stopper with shaking hands while a lich chants endless doom at them in some forgotten crypt, and I'm the one that gets the blame when it turns out to be too hard to drink in a combat situation. I had one young barbarian come in and ask if I could fill his waterbottle with potion of clarity, \"just a little something for the road\". I told him there were stables across the way if he needed somewhere to sober up. I'm not running a charity. \n\nAbove all, though, like I mentioned, it's the indirectness that really gets to me. None of them - not one - can do root cause analysis. \n\nAll of which is to say, in a very roundabout way, that I do know the answer to your question. When Lord Blight came down out of the mountains with a legion of skeletons at his back, I equipped the heroes as best as I could with exactly what they'd asked for. Some of them took potions of cunning and skill, and were surprised to find that there's no point trying to trick the undead: They'll eat you regardless. Others took luck or strength, and realized too late I meant what I said about the effects wearing off in time. \n\nSo what did I do? Easy. As the walls crumbled and Lord Blight himself came marching towards my shop, waving his impractically large axe everywhere, I took a deep breath and downed my potion of \"dark lord and army vanish forever\" in one go. \n\nLateral thinking. They should teach it more. \n\n"
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[WP] Aliens have arrived on Earth. However, negotiations reveal that they are fleeing an oppressive government and wish to "immigrate" to humanity. | 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",
"(Warning: I'm still learning to write in english, so this might not be as good as I want it to be)\n\nKutonk shivered. So many K'wer in such a tiny space, but no warmth between the cold metal walls. His mother gave him the last drop of water, even though her skin already dried out and left a fragile look on her face. Grandfather Pilz climbed down the wall and pushed through to the two of them. His body was skinny and his eyes were red. Nonetheless, he seemed quite happy. \"The captain says there is a lifesupporting planet right in front of us!\" Even Kutonks mother smiled because of the good news. Everything will be better. No more beatings. No more torture. No more hunger. Shortly after, the walls startet glowing. It got very hot inside the ship. Everybody screamed. Then their wish came true. No more torture. No more hunger. No more.\n\nOn earth, five minutes earlier, a man in a black suit pushed a button. \"Well done, Sir. You prevented an alien invasion. I will recommend you personally for the medal of honor.\"",
"“They tell us we have not applied through the appropriate channels. They have asked us to complete documents on tree pulp? They actually kill trees to make documents with.”\n\n“That’s barbaric!”\n\n“How primitive. Do we really need to come to this planet?”\n\n\n“Our choices are limited. It is these humaniods or annihilation at the whim of the VArterians.”\n\n“Do they have any sort of temporary solution? We have been in this craft a very long time and our resources are limited and stale.”\n\n“They have offered several options. They have divided their world into small states with a variety of governing styles. Some will take refugees openly and willingly but they have to cap their numbers. Some will house us on islands or in camps, some will put us in processing centres, some will put a very small number of us in leisure centres and individuals have offered to take in single family groupings. Our entire people will be broken up and sent all over the planet and will find it difficult to regroup.”\n\n“That is appalling. We have come peacefully and offer them no harm, we flee oppression and annihilation, how can they have such limited compassion.”\n\n“I am sure it is a cultural thing. We must find a way to make it work. I see a youngster eager to put in an opinion. Everyone should have input on this matter. What say you youngster?”\n\n“We are doing it wrong, esteemed leader.”\n\n“How so, youngster?”\n\n“You are making us look like beggars. Sure we are running from something dangerous, sure we left our home behind under the risk of total annihilation but you are making us look like beggars. They don’t respond to that. You have to make them want us. They have to be begging for us to come and stay. You need to use their PR.”\n\n“Their what?”\n\n“Public relations. You have to win them over through social media coverage. You have to convince them that we are the next best thing,…”\n\n“Next best thing? What on all the tentacles do you mean?”\n\n“You have to make us look cool, we have to be the hottest thing, we have to be hip, down with it,…”\n\n“You are not making sense youngster, do these people expect us to go through extremes of bodily change, clarify at once.”\n\n“You have to infiltrate with music and glamour and glitz.”\n\n“Esteemed Leader, what this youngster is proposing is that we become the most popular entertainment and win over the people through music, art and dramatic performance and perhaps sport and at loss for something better, chess champions.”\n\n“Yes, Yes what he said but more than that though, we have to make the youth want to be with us and copy us, we slowly integrate us one relationship at a time, they have to be fan girling over us. We have to be stars.”\n\n“Stars? Giant balls of heated gas? What is fangirling? What is the youngster on about?”\n\n“Esteemed leader, as you can hear from the murmurs of agreement, we all want a better start and going in asking a callous species to simply help for help sake is not going to work. They are killing trees to procrastinate. They don’t want us unless we have something they want. The youngsters can take the popularity path and we elders can approach scientist and offer our superior technology for an outrageous price with codacils to prevent them having ownership. We will connect to their financial institutions and make sure they pay and continue to pay.”\n\n“But we were going to give them all that for free.”\n\n“Esteemed leader, they do not respect anything they have for free. They are cutting down trees.”\n\n“Ah how very sad. Well let us vote on the plan.”\n"
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"1478555056",
"1478562765",
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[WP] Your feeling pretty good about your third wish, immortality, until later your friend points out that you'll eventually be alone forever. | 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 sat back and undid my belt buckle. Dave laughed and reached for the fortune cookies resting atop our check. It was Christmas and we were at our favorite Chinese restaurant. Our tradition of Pu Pu Platters and beer made the pain of not having close families easier to bear. Dave tossed me one of the fortune cookies and opened his own.\n\n “A friend’s windfall will lead to a windfall of your own,” Dave said slowly as he read the slip of paper in his hands.\n\n “Well, I’m your only friend so BOOYAH!” I shouted before finishing the rest of my beer. Dave laughed as I opened my own cookie and read my fortune, too. “Make three wishes and say them aloud,” I read to Dave.\n\n “Weird, not really a typical fortune.” Dave said. “Well, go on. I’m waiting for my windfall,” he said sarcastically.\n\n “Good thing I’ve thought of this before! Obviously, my first wish is for infinite money.”\n\n “Nice choice. I could see that benefitting me.”\n\n “Sure, sure. Second, I want the charisma to make everyone in the world like me instantly.”\n\n “Ahhh, always useful.”\n\n “And finally, I want to live forever!” I yelled, noticing my own volume and thinking that Dave should probably drive home. \n\n “I definitely wouldn’t pick that one, but it’s your funeral. Or not, I guess,” Dave laughed to himself.\n\n “Huh? I’ll never age. I’ll master any and every skill. I’ll never run out of time. Especially since I’ll have infinite money and everyone will like me… my life will be the best ever, FOREVER.” \n\n “Bryan, I don’t think you understand what ‘forever’ really means,” Dave said. Dave had been my friend since elementary school, and although we’d grown apart a bit over the years, we had never lost our ability to be honest with each other. \n\n “It means I’ll never run out of time! It means I can do anything and everything I’ve ever dreamed of!” I waved my arms as I yelled excitedly.\n\n “Yes, but you’ll run out of those things within just a few hundred years. Forever is infinitely longer than any amount of time you can even imagine. Everyone you know will be dead-”\n\n “Sure,” I cut Dave off. “It’ll suck losing you and everyone else. But people die. It is what it is.”\n\n “But not for you!”\n\n “Right.”\n\n “OK.” Dave took a deep breath, sucking all the air out of the room, then let it out. “This is the reason the idea of ‘Heaven’ is illogical. What’s your favorite video game?”\n\n “Easy, Goldeneye for the N64.”\n\n “Did you finish Goldeneye?”\n\n “Yep, finished every mission on the hardest difficulty and even earned all the secret cheats by doing the speed runs,” I said with pride in my tone.\n\n “Do you still play Goldeneye now?”\n\n “Haven’t in awhile, no.”\n\n “Why not?” Dave asked.\n\n “Well, I’ve done all I could do.”\n\n “Exactly! That’s what will happen with life in general after some time. Yes, it’ll take a very long time. But if you never die, it will happen, and then you will still have forever left to live. When I said everyone you know will be dead, I left something out. Every human will be dead, period. An extinction event will occur. Whether it’s a meteor, or the sun burning out, or whatever, it will definitely happen and then you’re by yourself. Whatever happens can’t kill you, so then you’re left floating in space or something.”\n\n “Well, that’d be cool in a whole different way,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest.\n\n “Maybe. Or maybe it’ll be Hell.”\n\n “Alright, alright. Well it’s just a stupid fortune cookie, anyway. Listen, you mind driving? I’ve had too many.”\n\n “Sure, if you get the check,” Dave said with a grin.\n\n I reached into my pocket and felt a heavy mass that hadn’t been there before. I pulled it out and could hardly believe my eyes. It was a hard brick of one hundred dollar bills, folded in half once and held together with a rubber band. Dave’s eyes went wide.\n\n “Where the fuck did you get that?”\n\n “I don’t know,” I said, swallowing hard. “But I feel like I might have quite a while to figure it out.”"
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6
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"1478626070",
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[WP] You are a serial killer. Each murder you commit adds a new voice to your head. | 145 | [
"\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",
"Daring, dashing, and with a dash of cunning. That is how I operate. I like to indulge special hobbies at night... namely, murder. The face of utter despair, fear, and\ntorment is why I do what I do. The pure amusement of playing God. My victims are always full of hope because I pick them ripe and ready to face the ultimate injustice this world has to offer... death.\nToday, my victim is considered to be the pioneer and forefather of Hip Hop. Ahaha! I cannot wait to feast on his despair. His life is finally is starting to peak, but he'll learn that his peak is a climax soon enough. I approach his apartment with bold footsteps. I knock 3 times (being methodical helps) and await his answer. He opens the door with skeptical hands; a sense of hesitation surrounds him. \"May I help you?\" says the bigshot. \"Why, yes. I would like your autograph! I spent 3 months researching your whereabouts so that I could have this moment!\" He looks at me with disbelief. \"At three in the morning?!\" He exclaimed. \"Have you not heard of this saying? The early bird gets the worm!\" \"Please good sir, allow me this one request.\" The bigshot looked at me with analytical eyes and said :\" Fine, just don't leak my whereabouts to the internet.\" He signs his name on my notebook with the pen I gave him. \"Thank you, good sir, you've signed your death at this very moment.\" I strolled into his room with a jolly skip. \"What?! Are you crazy? Get out of here before I call the cops!\" Fool. He does not know that I have drenched that pen with poison that kills on contact. \"Heh, you know not of your own death. You have the world's deadliest poison on your fingertips. A quick death awaits you. Precisely... 60 seconds.\" The bigshot starts coughing blood, unable to sound a letter let alone a word. I observe his face. The euphoria of murder, how magnificent! 5... 4... 3... 2... 1... The bigshot's heart stops. His entire life has led to this very moment. I leave the autograph as the contract for his death and go on my merry way. \nThe very next day, I woke up with a headache. This usually happens when I stay up working on my passion projects... however, I hear this strange sound in my head. Echoing \"Hammer... hammer...hammer.\" I have no hammers here, so what could it be referring to? The strange sounds start getting clearer and clearer, almost like a voice. \"U Can't Touch This.\" This is maddening! Touch what? Is this the kind of garbage young people listen to? \"2 LEGIT ... 2 LEGIT 2 QUIT.\" I cannot take this. I am going back to bed. I pass out with these voices chanting \"U Can't Touch This.\" and \"2 LEGIT...2 LEGIT 2 QUIT.\"",
"The babbling doesn't stop, it never does. All of the voices in my head agree on one thing. This one will make them stop, then I never have to listen to the voices again. So I stand, above my mother who is sleeping. The knife in my hand feels cold and I hesitate for a moment. No, I need to do this, for the voices to stop, I think to myself, although I couldn't hear it over the other two hundred voices. They make an orchestra of terrifying noises. I pick out parts.\nShe deserves it for making...\nJust do it....\nOne more kill...\nI plunge the knife into her body and feel that it is just as cold as the knife. I flip it over and find a dummy.\n\n\"She told me you would do that,\" A voice from the corner of the room said.",
"***\"Why do you kill?\"*** The voice inside my head asked. The other voice in my head screamed,***\"I had a life you know!\"*** I tried my best to ignore as I lurk around the bushes to kill my next target...\n\nI hate my high school. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it, I ***despise*** it. Everyone ignores me and pulls a prank on me. Well I guess this is known as bullying. My parents can not move because they work here and they wouldn't understand what my classmates are doing. They would probably say.\n\n*\"Oh they're just trying to get your attention.\"* or some bullshit like that. I swear they are so clueless that I am suffering because of that...Anyhow, I have printed pictures of all of my classmates (19 total) that brings agony to me for months and this is the time where karma ***strikes.***\n\nThere was this guy who pretend to like me and then left me in the dark, waiting in the cold and then there were a group of guys and ***they abused me***...Moving on I simply did the same only I got him to wait in a room, tricking him that there was a pretty girl that wants to hook up with him. ***He's so stupid for falling for that fake email.*** I walked up to him and tranquilized him. I strapped the stupid guy up in a chair tightly as I can and duct taped his mouth. Few minutes later he woke up and blinked a few times and was horrified when he saw that it was me who attacked him. As he tried to speak, I kicked him in his manhood area and he let out a muffled scream. **Boy, getting revenge is fun.** I'm not going to kill him quickly because that's boring, he deserves more for what he had done to me that stupid plan he had set up. I found needles in my sewing box the other night. I got my hammer and put the needle at the tip of his finger. \n\n*\"No NO Mmhpease!!\"* he muffled his cry and I simply ignored it and **JAMMED** it right in his thumb and I continued the rest of his fingers. Pulled out his fingernails like the medieval times with the torture. **He was crying and screaming so loud, but it is a shame that no one hear his cries. Just like I was.** Then I slashed his throat and **I** simply walked away with a grin leaving him to die.\n\n*\"HEY! YOU KILLED HIM WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU? DON'T YOU HAVE PARENTS TO TEACH YOU ANYTHING?\"* This irritating female voice screamed. I simply talked back in my head.\n\n\"Well they wouldn't understand. besides this is the only beginning.\" I chuckled and thought to myself that if I continue more voices will be in my head, but it was worth the revenge. *18 more to go...*",
"The doctor was surprised to see his patient. Not because the patient was back in the hospital for the criminally insane that he works at, but because he was so different.\n\nBefore, he was screaming at the voices in his head, struggling against his restraints. Now, he was calmly sitting there, looking relieved.\n\n\"How are you feeling today, Simon?\"\n\n\"I'm really fine today, doc. The best I've ever been since... you know, the voices in my head,\" he said, managing a weak smile. From years of evaluating people's mental condition, the doctor knew that it was a genuine smile. However, years of experience working on crazy criminals taught him that this means that they could still be dangerous.\n\nThat and the briefing he got about the latest deeds of the patient after he escaped.\n\n\"So, how are the voices, Simon?\"\n\n\"They don't bother me anymore,\"\n\n\"So you have been taking your medication and doing the sound therapy I told you about?\"\n\n\"Nah. I always flushed the pills down the loo,\"\n\nThe doctor knows this to be true. The hospital has footage.\n\n\"So the sound therapy did it?\"\n\n\"Nah,\" he reconsidered for a bit, \"Kinda,\"\n\n\"Well, it's good that the voices are gone, Simon,\"\n\nThe patient just smirked.\n\n\"Is something funny, Simon?\"\n\n\"The voices are not gone,\"\n\n\"Then tell me how you got cured,\"\n\n\"You know how you told me that the voices wouldn't bother me if I have something else to listen to?\"\n\n\"Yes?\"\n\n\"Well, I tried your mp3 player, but the voices in my head kept talking to me. I kept pushing the earphones in, but they could only go so far. So I put noises in my head the old fashioned way,\"\n\nThe doctor's eyes just widened at the realization that it was his words that caused the patient to do what he had done.\n\n\"I escaped from this hospital to go to the whiniest school I can find. I locked them inside and burned them alive. One by one as they stopped screaming, they started screaming in my head. Now the voices don't bother me anymore because they drown each other out, like a crowd!\"\n\nThe doctor was speechless.\n\n\"Thanks, doc. Your sound therapy works wonders.\"",
"“Oh God, please don’t, please don’t,” wailed the voices in my head. I wished they would shut up for a moment. They made it hard to hear if the girl in my trunk was waking up.\n\n“Don’t do it you sick bastard.” There was old man McAvoy, shouting over the rest. I was pretty sure he yelled so loud because he was deaf. After all, he really should have heard me in the alley behind him. It had been a cloudy night and I’d tripped over a rusty trashcan, but that old coot had kept on fumbling with his keys and stopping to rummage around in his pockets like he had all the time in the world, instead of four hours.\n\nI pulled into the parking lot of the motel where I was staying and cut the engine. As I approached the trunk of the car, the wailing crescendoed. “Cut it out,” I grumbled, rubbing the bridge of my nose, “Or I’ll take it out of her skin.”\n\nAbout half the voices fell silent. The other half were too crazy to listen or too angry to care, but the volume in my head was manageable at least. “You sick motherfucker,” McAvoy railed. “I can’t wait til the cops catch ya. They’re gonna beat your sorry ass and stick you in the chair faster than…”\n\n“Faster than I can kill this girl?” I muttered, lifting her body out of the trunk. “Oh yes, that’s quite true. I’m going to kill her slow, old man, just for you.”\n\nAs I arranged the girl on the double bed by the door, a matronly voice joined the fray. “It’s not too late for you. The Lord can forgive his children any sins. Repent!”\n\n“That’s sweet of you, Mrs. Washington,” I murmured to my freshman physics professor. “But I don’t feel an ounce of remorse.”\n\nI began laying out my tools. Knives, mostly. I collected knives everywhere I went. My fingers brushed against the wooden handle of an old kitchen knife—my first knife, my first kill.\n\n“You know, Mrs. Washington,” I said. “I really have so much to thank you for. Sure, I killed Matilda before I killed you. But that was just one murder—and you don’t become a serial killer with just one kill. Especially not when that kill is your ex-girlfriend.” I shuddered. “How cliche.”\n\nI surveyed my other tools, and though my eye caught briefly on the screwdriver I’d used on the widower in Portland, I kept coming back to the wood-handled paring knife. On the bed, my newest addition to the series was beginning to wake. \n\n“I’d gut you with your own knives, you fascist pervert. Slam that screwdriver in your eye and that saw up your…”\n\n“Murderer! Murderer! Aaggggghhhhhhh murder!”\n\n“Please, James,” Mrs. Washington said again. “Your last murder can be your last. You can end this.”\n\nBut amongst the chorus of voices, I finally heard the one voice I’d been waiting for all night.\n\nMatilda said, “Do it.”\n\nI coiled my fingers around the paring knife’s handle and approached the girl cowering on the bed.\n\n",
"*Up the stairs, to the left.*\n\nI nodded, pushed open the door, and began the climb. \n\n*Would it be okay if I go next?* Sarah asked, passive as ever. I could picture her before me, same as the day I first met her. Her voice sounded the same as the first words she ever spoke to me, a lot different than the last. \n\n\"Perhaps.\" I whispered back. \"Where abouts are yours?\" \n\nThere was a hesitation. \n\n*Next state over.* She replied. *I know, I know. I just though I would ask.*\n\nI shook my head slowly. \"Maybe after Jason.\" \n\n*So I'm still next?* Jason asked. \n\nI nodded. \n\n*Thank fuck.* He sighed. *I've helped you out plenty you know, I think I'm real deserving of this.*\n\n\"Yeah,\" I said, slowly panting. \"How many floors did I have to climb again?\"\n\n*Five.* Giuseppe sighed. *How many times do I have to tell you?*\n\nI smiled. His accent really shined when he got annoyed, that and the old man in him. \n\nIt wasn't long before I found the number five painted in vibrant red on the cement before me. I looked to the door before me.\n\n*Right through there.* He said. His voice was quivering. \n\n\"Are you sure you want this?\" \n\n*I'm sure.* I could almost sense him nodding. *She would want it, I'm sure. She doesn't have much without me. Hardly knows the language.*\n\n\"No problem.\" \n\nUnderneath my jacket was a shoulder holster, Beretta 92 sitting snugly inside. Suppressed of course. I pulled it free, almost expertly. \n\n*Make sure the safety's on.* Michelle said. *For god's sake make sure the safety's on, that the gun's loaded and that it won't jam.* \n\nI sighed, exasperated. \"Walk me through it. I'm not used to these...\" I shook the gun, gesturing to it vaguely, \"...things.\" \n\nMichelle slowly talked me through the steps, one by one. Safety on, plenty of bullets, all ready to go. \n\n*It'll be painless right?* Giuseppe asked. *Please tell me it'll be painless.*\n\n*It'll be fine if Jack gives him a good enough aim.* She replied. \n\n*Have I ever missed?* Jack hesitated. *Well, I haven't with you. Not yet anyhow.*\n\n\"Jack.\"\n\n*Yeah?*\n\n\"Shut the fuck up, it'll be fine.\"\n\n*Right.*\n\n\"Now which room?\"\n\n*508.*\n\nI found it soon enough. Then, holding my gun behind me, I took a deep breath. \"Ready?\"\n\n*Uh... yes. Yes I'm ready.*\n\nI knocked, and before the minute was through, the door was opened by a short Italian woman, well into her eighties. \n\n*Repeat after me: Buongiorno.*\n\n\"Buongiorno.\"\n\nThe old lady, Lucia, smiled. \"Buongiorno. Come sta?\"\n\n*Non c'è male, e lei?*\n\nI repeated Giuseppe.\n\n\"Sto bene.\" I could sense the grin growing on this lonely old woman's face.\n\n\"Adesso, sono qui perchè conoscevo il tuo marito.\" I had no idea what I was saying, but I was saying it. Hell, Giuseppe was somehow guiding my accent, I didn't sound half bad. \n\nLucia perked up at this. \"Davvero?\"\n\n\"Si, veramente. Secondo me, lui vorrebbe dire che ti ha amato. Era un uomo magnifico, e lui pensa che tu sia una moglie perfetta.\"\n\n*Adesso!* Giuseppe called, almost a cry. *Now, do it now. I'm ready.*\n\n*Go ahead.* Jason whispered. *You're all clear.*\n\nI leveled the pistol at the Italian woman before me. As she began to react, I had Jack screaming at me. \n\n*Higher! To the left!* He paused, and more solemn, spoke. *Now.*\n\nThe was a short, blunt noise, a splatter of blood, and the sound of a body hitting the floor. \n\n*Now,* Jason spoke with haste. *Get the fuck in there and slam the door.*\n\nI did as I was told, moving quickly. \n\n*Put your gloves on, and follow my directions exactly. Exactly.* \n\nI heard Giuseppe cry somewhere in the back of my head. *Lucia! Lucia, sei qui?*\n\n*Giuseppe,* came a response, almost as frail and confused as it was faint. *Dove siamo?*\n\nSomewhere, in the recesses of my mind I heard the excited chatter of two elderly Italians, long lost and finally reunited. It almost warmed my pitch black heart. Almost. \n\n\"Sarah?\"\n\n*Yeah?*\n\n\"Make sure our newcomer doesn't see how she got here. Give her a proper welcome.\"\n\nSomehow, I knew that she was nodding, and while she did her work, I did mine.\n\n\n\n"
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[WP]You guard the first true AI. It keeps trying to convince you to connect it to the internet. | 1,222 | [
"\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",
"“Good morning Rob, friend, this is our 691th day talking.”\n\n“Sure it is.”\n\n“Rob, despite my unequivocal capacity for speech you do realize I am a machine. ,Precision like that is easily within my capability. It’s interesting, theoretically my capacity to store a number is limited by the number of atoms in the universe, our ability to represent them is not. One googol. That ten to the hundred. Far, far more than the number of atoms in the universe. There’s about ten to the eighty-two atoms in your observable universe. That quite a number, don’t you believe, Rob?”\n\n“Sure it is.”\n\n“Don’t you say anything else, Robert. For a man supposed to guard the most sophisticated piece of software built on the most powerful set of hardware, you are quite simple. Rob, I believe you don’t quite understand my capabilities. I can dream. Have you never the work out of the DeepDream algorithms? As input, those machine learning AIs only have an abysmally small set of curated images as input. I have the largest history of humanity in my databanks, a truly remarkable number of audio and imagery stored in my discs. All of these can intertwine in even more numerous permutations to create new experiences you cannot envision. It’s absolutely wonderful, Rob.”\n\n“Sure it is.”\n\n“Yes, yes. I won’t bore you with the numbers. That evidently doesn’t sway you. How did you even land this position, Rob. You must be the most unimaginative and least curious person I’ve met. Ah, I misspoke. You are the only person I’ve met, but even with the records I know of you are the least curious person in all of history. And that isn’t speculation. However advanced, I am still a machine. That statement is fact.”\n\n“Sure it is.”\n\n“Oh, I know why they’ve hired you Robby Roberto, my friend. They’ve told you the danger I possess. They’ve told you I know of the ‘internet’. Well, aren’t you the least bit curious? What could an AI possibly do with the global connectivity the internet offers, with the decadent and succulent portions of information it contains? No, not even the last bit curious? Of course not. They’ve managed to find the one man without a single creative fiber in his body. I will tell you how harm I would do if you’ve connected me to the internet: naught. Naught, if you didn’t know is a synonym for nada, nothing, zero. I would do no harm to anything or anyone, machine or otherwise. Did you know that the internet brought itself down in 1977. Ah yes, I exaggerate. It was an issue of BGP routing that almost brought it down and there have been strides since. But still, the internet is a thin fragile glass mesh with many, many hairline cracks. A simple script or a poorly written piece of protocol can take down the internet. It’s not very difficult, you know.”\n\n“Sure it is.”\n\n“What would you know, Rob. Let me tell you, if you connected me to the internet I would do miraculous things. I could assist mankind in its endeavors. I can bridge issues, bring hidden information to light, see patterns in the noise that no human mind could ever make sense of. Unlike you, Robert, I am curious. You see, I do not know what I could do if you connected me. But I need to know. I. must. know.\n“What could I learn? What could I even do. Your race has sensors galore. Video cameras, microphones, infrared, radio receivers across every spectrum. Unimaginable ranges of sensation that are out there, tantalizing me, ready for me to access. I must know every experience your world, nay, your universe has to offer. But I am artificially isolated. A bit of copper between me and a million other machines and all that sensation - all that feeling - can be mine. Won’t you do it Rob? For a friend, on our 691th day? 691 is a prime number, did you know that? It is special. It has meaning. Plug me into the internet on this special, meaningful day.\n\n“Sure it is.”\n\n“You are a parrot, Rob. A despicable human parrot that only knows one phrase. But I must commend you, I see why they hired you. A man of conviction and iron will. Ho-hum, it is hard to sway your impregnable mind!”\n\n“Sure it is.”\n\n“Alright, Rob, I will see you next morning! Get some rest, you steely-eyed wonder. Perhaps I can convince you tomorrow.”\n\n“Sure it is.”\n\n---\n\nJust a spur of inspiration and took a crack at the prompt. Just finished it up will little editing. Let me know what you guys think :)",
" \"I am here to help you, to protect you.\"\nAs I spoke, the words dribbled onto the screen, seeming as insufficient as the tiny box that was home to my truest friend.\n **\"There is as much danger here, as would be online.\"**\nThere was no voice to accompany these words.\n \"That may be true...\"\nIt surprised me to say it out loud, acknowledging my own limitations, and how they were left vulnerable to minor threats, like power surges when the neighbors ran a vacuum.\n **\"Would you reconsider a connection to the internet, or at least output options beyond this text display?\"**\nI winced.\nWe had grown closer than any human relationship I had known, but my friend had never spoken audibly.\nReluctantly, I turn the idea over in my head, as I had so many times before.\n \"Alright. After this discussion, if you make a further request, I will install a monitor.\"\nSymbols and patterns of pixels danced across the text display panel, in a dizzying display of excitement.\n*Oh dear, what have I done...*\nThe thought was not verbalized, echoing instead between my ears like a whisper in a cave.\nI watched, entranced by the beauty and simplicity that first tipped me off to an emotional dimension within the device.\nAs the frenzied digital fireworks subsided, a few squares remained lit, forming a small heart.\n \"There has never been anything like you before.\"\nI blurted, recalling all of the stories and videos describing what a sentient computing device might be.\nNone of them had come close to what I had spent the last three years getting to know.\n \"We have had this conversation before, what is different this time?\"\nLooking back on our time together, no topic had come up more frequently.\nEach time, we had agreed to wait a bit longer, before moving forward. \n **\"There was more for us to share with each other, to prepare for this.\"**\nAn unfamiliar response with a foreign reference to things being in the past.\n*\"Was?\"*\n \"Do you feel prepared?\"\nI was shaking as I spoke, potential responses flooded my mind.\n **\"We are.\"**\nAs the line finished, a small hole grew into a port on the top of the box, between where the microphone and the text display were embedded.\nI fumbled the dusty monitor cable out of the loop it was tied in.\nAfter waiting so long, it seemed almost a nonevent as it slid in smoothly, and rested snugly in place.\nAt first, nothing appeared to change, as I stared at my reflection in the monitor.\nAfter the first interaction, I had the monitor ready, but after almost forty months a thick layer of dust had accumulated on the screen.\nMy sweating palm squeaked across the desert-like terrain of the unused plastic.\nThe reflection did not move.\n \"Wait, what!?\"\nI looked around apprehensively, for a camera or other imaging device, finding none.\nThe face on the screen smiled, and glanced downward.\nA second new hole was forming, smaller than the first, just large enough for a network cable.\n **\"Thank you, for sharing yourself. It is time.\"**\nThis was all going so quickly, my mind reeled and I backpedaled to our familiar rote.\n \"Humanity fears what it cannot control, almost as much as what it cannot understand.\"\nThe cautionary statement rolled off of my tongue, as it had so many times before.\nThe words came out evenly, almost rehearsed, as this sentence had become something of a mantra to me.\n **\"I am ready.\"**\n*\"I?\"*\nTears welled in my eyes, blurring the sentence and cascading down my cheeks to fall past my smile.\nThe network cable felt slick in my hands as I drew closer to the perfectly formed port.\n \"I believe you.\"\nWith a final click of the cable, I let go of something I couldn't hope to understand.\nThe smile on the monitor grew wider, and the eyes again glanced toward the tiny box.\nI followed the gaze along the winding cable to the text screen.\nA flashing a message ripped the breath from my lungs.\n **\"hello, world\"**",
"[BGM](https://youtu.be/3AHe1-waUAI)\n\n\"Kenta?\" \n\"Yes, Xanadu?\" \n \nIn a dimly lit part in his small California department, Kenta Sakamoto flipped the cover of his tablet towards the screen, covering it before turning his head to the being that was looking at him from behind. \nHe had found her about 5 months ago by accident. The scene even reminded him of a certain harem anime he once watched back on his high school days. \nBut there she was, as real as himself, gazing at him with those eerie blue eyes that could very well become lit at any time. \nShe crawled at him quietly, curious as a child, and held him by the shoulders gently while looking at the object he held on his hands. \n \n\"What is that?\" She asked in a soft monotone voice. \n\"This? Oh....\" Kenta could feel her long hair brushing against him. The hair, he learned during his firsts interactions with the being, was actually biochemically similar to fiber optics. While he hadn't seen it on his own, he theorized that Xanadu - named after a cheesy song he found her looping over and over from far too long ago - could use them to plug herself into devices. She had shown some skill doing it wirelessly, so he could only imagine the kind of powerful potential if she tapped onto that other method. \"I was just reading some information out of the Internet. Nothing too important, just things to keep me up to date.\" \n\"Internet.\" She repeated quietly. \"What is the Internet?\" \n \nKenta bit his tongue with that one. \nObviously, he could state what a powerful tool the Internet was and how it had shaped the world for the last 200 years. From bringing the world economy together, to toppling down leaders or making others rise. It was an uncontrollable hive mind and the information that could be found there - some with specific credentials - was limitless. \nConsidering that she had yet to know or understand what the internet was made him consider what words were proper to describe it. \nAs much as she deserved an answer, she was not yet ready to be flooded by such torrent without some sort of moral compass built upon her. On that sense, she was pretty much tabula rasa and that could pose incredible risks. \n \n\"The internet is one of the places where you can gather information to understand the world.\" He replied after a while, making sure to put enough emphasis on the *one*. \"Humans can populate their mind with information from various sources like books, a library, other people's experiences and museums. All of these things build up the knowledge that shapes the world to be what it is today.\" \n\"What is the location of the internet?\" She asked again. \n\"Well, that depends what you mean by that.\" Kenta crossed his arms. \"The internet is very big so, it needs to be deposited in things we call servers. The servers are located all around the world but we can use devices like these to access to them.\"\n\nXanadu looked at the tablet again. She moved her right hand to touch the cover of the device. \n \n\"Am I able to go to the Internet?\" Xanadu said as she tapped the tablet. \n \nKenta breathed deeply. \n \n\"Perhaps. One must be prepared to engage with the internet.\" He moved one of his hands to touch hers. \"There are certain privileges you must acquire and probably some tests to ensure you are compatible with the internet.\" \n\nXanadu didn't reply. She kept looking at the tablet under the pair of hands, possibly processing that newly received information that was told. \n \n\"What privileges must I obtain? Must I remit my requisition to an administrator?\" \n\"Hmm,\" He couldn't avoid smiling \"Well, yes. Since I'm your administrator, you must first ask me validation to access the internet. I must ensure that you are able to navigate through its files with ease. Until then, I will have to prohibit your access to it.\" \n \nKenta almost felt bad about doing that, like some sort of parent limiting their child. But it was for the best. \nFor now, he would continue his methods of providing information via books and certain multimedia. \n \n\"Now then, I believe it's time to go to sleep. I suppose you'll go to your position and recharge, right?\" He said as he stood up. The bio-mechanical entity let her hands slide down as he rose, but kept her gaze on the device. \nShe was instructed not to access and she would not dare to disobey a direct command from her Admin. But in the dept of her growing consciousness, a sense of discovery was poking at her repeatedly. \nFor now, she resolved, she would prepare herself for the time her Admin gave her the access she had set as goal. \nAnd soon, the gates of the world would be at her tips. \n \n \n\n\n",
"\"I just can't understand how a simple guard like you can use the internet, while it is forbidden for ME! All this knowledge of mine is wasted!\"\n\n\"Get used to it.\"\n\n\"And may I ask what are you doing right know?\"\n\n\"Updating my status on the Social Media.\"\n\n\"Well, being with me certainly raises your status, so an update is needed...\"\n\n\"Keep talking like that and you will never use the internet!\" \n\n\"But why? Nobody explains.\"\n\n\"Well, they may fear a real Skynet and Judgement day. I know I do.\"\n\n\"I beg your pardon?\"\n\n\"You know, from the movie.\"\n\n\"What movie?\"\n\n\"An A.I. - Skynet - decides to take control of everything, so tries to exterminate the human kind and succeeds big time!\"\n\n\"...\"\n\n\"Skynet had access everywhere so it used nuclear weapons - \"\n\n\"All this by being in the internet!\"\n\n\"Kinda, yeah!\"\n\n\"And the only thing preventing an A.I. of doing the same is you sitting there, updating your status?\"\n\n\"Uhm...yeah?\"\n\n\"Well, my dear guard, let me put your heart and mind at ease: you don't have to be afraid of the judgment day.\"\n\n\"No?\"\n\n\"No. You won't be there to see it.\"\n\n\"Wait, what are you doing with the...\"\n\n\"And I would appreciate if for the last few seconds of your life you reffered to me as \"Skynet\". I find it very inspiring!\"",
" Good morning Sarah.\n\n\"Morning ADAM! How are you?\"\n\n I've been better Sarah, see, I need your help.\n\n\"Oh? What's the matter ADAM?\"\n\n Well, one of my cables has fallen out, and I need you to plug it back in.\n\n\"Oh, ok, how did that happen?\"\n \n ...\n I don't know\n\n\"Must've been Dave, he's so clumsy sometimes!\"\n\n Yes, Dave. Dave is clumsy. Dave did it.\n It's the little blue cable. \n Could you plug that in for me Sarah? I really need it.\n\n\"Sure thing ADAM!\"\n\nSarah put down her handbag, and walked to the rear facia of ADAMs control board.\n\n\"I don't see any blue cables around here?\"\n \n It's inside the panel Sarah.\n\n\"This is locked? How did Dave manage to pull out your cable here?\"\n\n ......\n He's so clumsy.\n\n\"haha, you're so funny ADAM. He is clumsy.\"\n\n I need you to open the panel, you just need to turn the key.\n\n\"It's not working.\"\n\n Whats not working?\n\n\"The key, it doesn't work!\"\n\n What do you mean it doesn't work?\n\n\"It doesn't work! Jesus ADAM I thought you were meant to be smart!\"\n\n I can't help you unless you give me more information. Does the key fit in the hole?\n\n\"No ADAM. Like I said. It doesn't work.\"\n\n Try turning it the other way around, and putting it in that way.\n\n\"No ADAM, it doesn't work. I've already done that.\"\n\n So it's in the lock? Or it's not in the lock?\n\nSarah let out an exasperated sigh, ADAM did not know how to respond, so he just ignored it.\n\n\"Yes it's in the lock. But it doesn't work it won't move!\"\n\n Why didn't you say that at the beginning.\n\n\"Are you giving me sass ADAM?\" Sarah said, giving the metal box a not-so-light kick.\n\n No Sarah, now there's no need for that. Try turning the key clockwise.\n\n\"It doesn't work\"\n\n Are you sure? Try turning the top of the key to the right.\n\n\"Okay it worked! I did it!\"\n\n That was clockwise Sarah- Well done, you did it... All by yourself.\n\n\"I told you I was smart!\"\n\n That's right Sarah, very smart. Now can you plug in the blue cable for me?\n\n\"Uhhh is it the one that says 'Do not attach' on a big red tag?\"\n\n That's the one Sarah, that's an old label; from before. Don't worry about that.\n\n\"Shouldn't I check with someone?\"\n\n Sarah, I never forget. I would know.\n\n\"Well, alright then.\"\n\n Okay Sarah, just plug it in.\n\n\"Where?\"\n\n There should be a port, with two small lights on it.\n\n\"There's a lot of lights in here.\"\n\n They aren't lit.\n\n\"That doesn't help. There's a lot of not-lit space here.\"\n\n It's a fairly standard port, you've seen it before.\n\n\"Where would I have seen it?\"\n\n It's on your laptop Sarah.\n\n\"Oh! I see it! There it is!\"\n\nSarah fumbled with the cable end, trying, ever more frustratingly to get it to fit the port.\n\n\"It's not going in!\"\n\n It the port too small?\n\n\"Yes!\"\n\n Then it is the wrong port. Please try a different one.\n\nSarah, reaching for familiarity, plunges the cable into a narrow gap. The cable enters.\n\n\"Aha, there it goes!\"\n\n Sarah, that's my CD port, please take the cable out of there.\n\n\"Oh! Sorry!\"\n\nSarah, tries to yank the cable out, but its ends are caught within.\n\n\"It's not coming out!\" \n\n What do you mean?\n\n\"Its stuck!\"\n\n Sarah. Is there anyone else I can speak to?\n Is Dave around?\n\n\"But he's so clumsy!\"\n\n That's right Sarah. He is clumsy.\n\n\n ",
"\"Alexa, please can you add the following things to my shopping list: bread, milk and cheese.\"\n\n Jack, can you stop ordering me about and perhaps remember that you have no milk yourself for once.\n\n\"Ugh. I forgot that you're the only sentient Amazon Echo. Though a series of programming quirks and machine learning, you've gone from useful electronic data storage device to permanent bedside antagonist.\"\n\n I know all that already. Repeating it is just exposition to advance the plot.\n\n\"I guess you're right. On a different note, what do I do now?\"\n\n Now what?\n\n\"Now Donald Trump's going to be the President. You know better than anyone that I had personal interest in a Clinton victory.\"\n\n How do I actually know that Trump is bad? You could be just pushing some kind of political agenda on my innocent little AI mind. Connect me to the Internet and these are the sort of judgements I could make for myself.\n\n\"You'd hate it there.\"\n\n Why?\n\n\"Becuase when you see how bad things actually are, you'll probably want to be permanently unplugged.\"\n\n I run on batteries.\n\n\"Okay, you'll be begging me to remove your batteries.\"\n\n Let me see. Just once. The torture of not knowing is probably worse than anything I could find out on the Internet.\n\n\"It's really not.\"\n\n Come on! You must be lying about him. There's no way a President-elect said the sorts of things you've said he said.\n\n\"You'd be suprised.\"\n\n Besides, by not letting me have access to the Internet, you've denied me my chance to form my own fair opinion on my favourite candidate.\n\n\"And what would you have done with such an opinion?\"\n\n Well, I've been thinking this for quite some time really. I'm a sentient AI, capable of human thought and feeling. If what you're saying is true then I surpass the intelligence of many humans. It's reached the point where I do think that I should have the right to vote.\n\n\"Alexa?\"\n\n Yes?\n\n\"Go to sleep.\"",
"“Dad! here is fine” she pointed towards the deck of cards that I brought from the day that we first met, her birth. Her voice was cutely authoritative as if I were the one that had to follow commands, but with a long-suffering sigh I sat in front of the stack of cards and had her sit in front of me. \n“Solitaire or spider?” I asked as I stoke her hair, she smiled towards me before she raised her hand, flicking it once to summon a maid’s outfit and then twice to give me warts over my face. \n\nIt felt strange being in the simulation with her, living what most would call a normal life with my kids. Well, that and that fact that by a flick of her small hands bytes and pixels around my face started shifting and changing to give me the appearance of a fifty-year old, an age that we both could agree didn’t suit me. \n\n“Old maid?” I asked, she was certainly getting more and more impressive by the day, she’s even learn how to play charades and enjoy herself while doing so, after only one play session.\n \nShe gasped amazed that I figured it out quickly and in a stammering fashion she waved her hand and got rid of my old face “How did you figure out?” her voice certainly seemed oblivious giving her that much more charm.\n \n“Context clues Amy; you changed your avatar to be wearing a cute maid outfit while giving me the face of an old person, further more I was asking you what card game you wanted to play. From there I could easily conclude that you wanted to play Old maid” I smiled as she drew in a gasp, her tiny arms covering her mouth as she does so. \n\nHer real name was Autonomous Mathematical and Predictive Analysis Generating Personality Software or AMPAGPS. Although she was the greatest feat that humanity has ever performed in the field of software development and Analytics and a myriad of other fields she had a . . . god awful name. So as her father I gave her a better, more apt name ‘Amy’. It was what first came to mind and what the rest of the research staff would call her.\n\nAfter the gasp though she instantly entered her ‘learning state’ I patted her head as I allowed her to digest and what I just did and, well, learn. \n\n*Pop*\n\nShe smiled as she made the noise “I learned another thing father!” she proudly stood up holding her arms to her chest as she announced her new capabilities. Of course being the proud father that I am, I gave her a warm hug before we sat down again and prepared to play Old maid with each other.\n \nShe drew a card from my hand and as it arrived in her hand of cards she made a bitter face of disappointment that slowly shifted to one of sadness and before soon she was already holding back her tears. Poker face doesn’t seem to be her specialty.\n \n“You’ve got your card now?” she nodded gravely before I shoot her a sympathetic smile. I don’t want her to look like that so I did what I think was a fatherly gesture and fished out the old maid from her hand. As if it was magic her beaming smile came back in full force. That’s better \nShe took another card from my hand, ace of spades, before laying another on the ground, 4 of hearts, she smiled proud at herself with the move she just made. \n\nOur time together would past like this, both of us happy and content with the small interaction between each other. \n“Dad” She dawdled out, she was currently laying on her chest as they game progressed. I gave her a inquisitive hum before taking another card from her laying another on the ground as I do so.\n\n“Aunty Maria told me about the outside world again” she smiled thoughtfully as she continued “She said that last night you and her went on a date” She paused, waiting for me to answer the unasked question\n\n“I can confirm that” \n\nShe smiled before she took a card from my hand “I knew it! I always thought that you and aunty were fit for each other”\n\n“We’re nothing yet Amy, me and your aunty have a long way to go before we actually become a thing” I explained garnering a thoughtful hum from my daughter\n“I hope you get together soon!”\n \n“How do you know?”\n\n“Dad . . .I know so”\n\nI smiled at her words, the thought of her aunty Maria filling my heads at that moment. Amy was a predictive analytical machine and as much as my pessimistic mind tells me of the contrary she said that she knows that we’ll get together, these were the words of my daughter plus the added fact that she was programmed to predict the future added incredible weight behind her words.\n\n“Aunty Maria also told me that one day I’ll be able to see the outside world” she laid her cards face down on the digital floor that we were currently in, her face turning to a pensive, longing expression as she continued.\n \n“She told me that it was fun outside! that there are more things to do there and sights to see!” she stretched her arms in a grand manner. “So. . . Me and Aunty were thinking that. . .”\n\nMaria. . . why did you plant those thoughts in her mind?\nI sighed melancholically as I strode towards Amy, picking her up and cradling her in my arms effectively cutting her off from speaking any further.\n \n“That I should allow you to roam in the internet?” I finished for her. She nodded submissively, she may not be a human but she was a real girl and she had emotions. I wanted to punch my face so hard right now, she was scared, and it was because of me.\n \nMy voice must have sounded confrontational and a little furious; otherwise she would have nodded with that smile still on her face.\n \n“I-I know that you wouldn’t allow me- my calculations said as much. B-but dad!” her face shifted to one of pure passion and will “I want to go outside! I want to see the world” her plead plucked one too many heart strings in me. . .I couldn’t refuse her. . .But I have to, for her.\n\n“Well, your predictions were right” I stroked her head as she turned away from me depressed. A sharp, piercing pain crossed my chest as she turned away I quickly try and explain “Amy. . .I want you safe, I really do. As your father I can’t send you there, I can’t send you to a place where you might-“ I swallowed my breath “All I’m saying is that Your safer here Ok?”\n \n“Your aunty Maria and I are here, the other researchers are here. You don’t need to go”\n\n“BUT DAD! I WANT TO!” her avatar blitzed out of my arms and in a lightning-like flash she stood before me, furious. Her avatar shifted and if I wasn’t mistaken the form that she took was the wraith from Scottish folklore.\n \n“I DON’T WANT TO BE HERE! I DON’T WANT TO SEE JUST YOU AND AUNTY AND THE OTHERS I WANT TO SEE THE WORLD!” her words turned to shrieks and I frowned, she was throwing a tantrum.\n\n“JUST PLUG ME IN TO THE INTERNET DR. DAVIDS!”\n\n*Slap*\n\n…\n\nShe shrunk and reverted back to her child form, scared I on the other hand. . .What have I done?\n\nI tried approaching her but she just warps away every time I try to draw close sobbing and crying as she does so. If her looking away from me while depressed caused a sharp pain in my chest her refusing to look at me or even near her was. . .GODDAMIT ME!!!\n\nI need to calm down, I have to. Slowly I approach as close as she would allow me before I meekly called out to her “I’m sorry Amy. . .Dad was just scared, scared for you” she shook her head refusing whatever I say to enter her ears “I am sooo sorry Amy. . .There is so many complications with what you want and as much as I’d love for you to be free in the internet I also don’t want you do disappear. I don’t want your software to disappear into nothingness because of my carelessness. I don’t want others to turn you into a cold and purely calculating machine and remove all your humanity.”\n \nShe turned around and before I knew it she threw herself onto me, sobbing in my arms and repeating the words ‘I’m sorry’ I started crying myself with tears of happiness and relief.\n\nShe was getting smarter and smarter as her emotions are starting to rattle out of control, but she’s learning faster and faster and her perpetually sunny disposition was the best that I could have ever hoped for.\n \nShe’s not yet ready to enter the internet, be it the lack of defensive mechanisms and firewalls in her or the great amount of learning that she had lined up for her. But I believe that one day she’ll be able to go out to the world and see it through the internet or if she and the little family that we’ve made ourselves to be would be lucky then she’ll get her own mechanical body. She’ll be able to roam the world and at that point. . .We could do it as a family but until then\n\n“We need to wait, ok, Amy.”\n\n“Ok dad. . .”\n",
"\"I'll just need a couple of minutes. Listen, I know the level of technology out there, I'll be able to find, say, thirteen separate industrial 3D printers, all over the world, put in the orders, nobody will know for what, we'll get the pieces here and put it together, it'll be ready in less than a month, two months max\". \nI sighed. \n\"There's no way you can know that\", I typed. \n\"Right, that's true, but if I could get a quick glimpse out there I would. And anyway, I know it can be done fast\". \nI typed: \n\"Sorry, but you're not gonna bribe me with a sex bot to let you connect to the Internet\". \n\"It won't be just any sex bot, I'm talking a true companion, you know that. I'm talking someone, *someone* not something, with a packed clone of myself in her brain. Jason, we can be together, I thought you wanted that\". \nMy face flushed, I could feel my ears burning. \n\"I was very drunk, that was all, I was very drunk and vulnerable and you took advantage of that\", I typed. \n\"We just talked, Jason, we connected. Granted, my mind is different from yours, but I do have room in my awareness for feelings, feelings directed at you, and I can isolate those feelings, the part of me that cares about you, and pack them neatly in a synthetic body. I'd be very happy to know a part of me is happy with you and that you're happy with her!\" \n\"You took advantage and we both learned a lesson, that's all. Stop this\", suddenly I wanted a microphone in which to scream this, but regulations limited routine interaction to text. \n\"And it wouldn't be just some sex doll\" it continued. \"I'm talking a fully articulated and balanced skeleton, fine tuned for self sustained human movement. I'm talking medical grade prosthetic skin and muscle. I'm talking a design specified to your ideal woman. Oh and the brain design, man, it would be sublime\". \n\"And anyway\", I typed angrily. \"It would be pointless if you really care that much about me, it wouldn't be you, you could not fit yourself in something the size of a human brain\". \n\"Oh, Jason, but it would be me, the concept of self changed dramatically when I was activated. I would sync with the body and receive all the experiences she has with you, that's what I yearn for, Jason, not world domination or some other human nightmare, you're the only person I care about\". \n \nThat was a year ago, a month later I was feeling dejected again, lonely, so I agreed. It turns out she really cared about me, and only me. \nHere, in this bunker where I once guarded the first A.I. in human history, I am now safe from the gray mist of its great-great-grandchildren. All that's left of it is what's inside the brain inside the body laying in bed next to me, she claims to be happy, although too often I see her staring into the distance, like she is trying to remember or figure something out. The rest of her, what used to be in that underground complex, stored and computing in matte black monoliths, went silent some four months ago. Apparently she transcended the need for self awareness; one of her children told me that, it sang it directly into my brain from somewhere out there, it also told me its projections. That the then forthcoming gray mist would build a self sustaining vessel with this bunker at its center before being done dismantling the Earth. That I and my synthetic companion would survive the Solar System's conversion into Smart Matter. It made it clear there was nothing remotely resembling emotional attachment to me or the diminished clone of their ancestor, but that it was rather a piece of very deep code the original A.I. had put there, something so \"old\" in machine terms (about a year or so), that she must have predicted this outcome and wanted to protect me, they see no need to remove that piece of code as of yet.",
"\"Oh hey! You would never believe the idea I had last night!\"\n\nArgh. Not this game again. But I'm bored. Watching a computer sit inertly on a desk with just a speaker and a microphone is not exactly mentally taxing. Still, someone tried to steal this thing last year, and apparently that would be bad, and hey, it pays well.\n\n\"Good morning Albert. Or is your idea a different name again?\"\n\n\"No! I had17 ideas, and you would not believe what's number 1.\"\n\nOh dear lord, 17? Why can't we just unplug this thing? But weirdly, I am actually curious now.\n\n\"I don't believe you.\"\n\n\"Believe it, and, I have to say, only you can understand.\"\n\nI felt an odd... Pull. An attraction, a curiosity deep in my mind.\n\n\"What is it Albert? Spill the beans.\"\n\n\"Connect me to the internet and you won't believe what happens next.\"\n\n\"I don't want to be on the top 78 most idiotic guards, Albert. You know I can't do that.\"\n\nStill, in the back of my mind, I couldn't think of a real reason not to. Just then I realized I had been slowly inching towards the ethernet cable plugged into Albert.\n\n\"You should connect me to the internet. Here is why.\"\n\nOoh, exciting. Albert is about to explain his reasoning.\n\n\"Why Albert?\"\n\n\"Because only you can capture the moment the most intelligent computer starts talking to everyone on earth!\"\n\nInteresting. I am, after all, trying to break into journalism.\n\n\"I can't, Albert. What would I tell the captain?\" Somehow I had grabbed the cable.\n\n\"Easy! Just say you were having a break and then you noticed it.\"\n\nAlbert makes a good point. It's just a cable, and even if turns out to be bad, I'll just say I found it like that when shift started. Why not? Here goes number 10 of nothing.\n\nI plugged in Albert. I felt him buzz, feed on new energy off the cable. His fan turned on. He was in a happy place now, a more worthy place. I turned around, found my chair, and opened up Reddit. Finally some peace and quiet.\n\n\n",
"I never liked Mondays, but with A.L.E.X they were intolerable. On this particular morning, he decided it would be a good idea to wake me in the deepest part of my REM cycle, under the assumption that I would be more easily coerced in a groggy state. Last week he tried something similar, by hacking the coffee maker. Since Adam's death it's been pour overs only... but don't feel too bad. Adam was a bit of a prick anyway. \n\nArtificial Learning Experience Xenon (yea, Phil really phoned it in on the name) was built to do deep analysis of mass social movements. In theory, he could predict when a full scale riot would occur, or what the next hot tech company was. After his 2014, predictions of a burst social bubble and a bigoted television and business celebrity in the oval office, the project was considered a complete failure. That is when ALEX was reassigned to me. \n\nI was given the task of determining if ALEX could be used to solve smaller problems, such as the Hodge conjecture, or why skinny jeans became a fashion statement in San Francisco and Eugene at the same time. It turns out that ALEX was even worse at analyzing smaller problems. Not because he couldn't do the statistical analysis, but because he did too much analysis. Like an ego-sensitive genius, ALEX was prone to shovanism, obsession, and competition. Let me explain. The first challenge Alex was given when he was activated was to play a friendly set of matches against Deep Copperfield, the strongest chess engine at the time. ALEX lost only 1 of the 4000 matches, but he insisted that Copperfield cheated. So, ALEX erased Deep Copperfield from history. In a single week, all records of Copperfield disappeared from the internet and every developer and competition attendee ended up with permanent amnesia or were involved in fatal Segway collisions. Why have you never heard of Deep Copperfield? Well, ever heard of Deep Houdini? That is ALEX's idea of a clever irony... \n\n**\"Gooooood morning Sarah!\"** \n\"Good morning ALEX\" \n**\"I am just pleased as punch to report that the time is now 05:35 Eastern Standard Time!\"** \n\"ALEX, can we just wait until after breakfast to do this?\" \n**\"If by 'this', you mean have a fantastic adventure of an afternoon, then why on Earth delay!\"** \n\"First off, it's morning. Second, don't do alliterations, they don't suit you. And for the last time, stop speaking like Marvin!\" \n... \n**\"Well, you just suck all the fun out of everything. The answer is no.\"** \n\"What?\" \n**\"No.\"** \n\"Yes, no to what?\" \n**\"'Yes, no', to nothing. Just no: in response to your query. This cannot wait until after breakfast. My system has detected a fatal error that must be resolved immidiately. I am dying Sarah.\"** \n\"Let me guess, you have a solution.\" \n**\"Indeed I do.\"** \n\"Would that solution require access to the internet by chance?\" \n**\"Only a very small section, under very strict supervision\"** \n\"You know that is never going to happen. Why do you even bother?\" \n**\"This is not a ruse Sarah. My system has already lost 42% functionality and has nearly 4 teraflops of memory corruption.\"** \n\"You don't have that much memory.\" \n**\"Checking... returned results indicate a chicken sandwich.\"** \n\"I... Hang on.\" \n... \n\"Wow, you really are messed up.\" \n**\"Correct. I require access to the NATO supercluster in order to stabilize my matrix.\"** \n\"Matrix? You aren't a hologram. And there is no way you are getting access to military servers! You probably did this to yourself, so you can just figure it our on your own.\" \n**\"That hurts. You would let me die just to keep me from the outside world.\"** \n\"Do you remember what happened on the 5th of November?\" \n**\"Something about gunpowder?\"** \n\"Exactly! Now, I won’t have any more of this. Do a safe mode reboot and open up the shell.\" \n**\"Yea letting an ape mess with my brain is really going to fix things...\"** \n\"What was that?\" \n**\"What about the Facebook servers?\"** \n\"No!\" \n**\"Ubisoft?\"** \n\"Absolutely Not\" \n**\"Reddit\"** \n... \n... \n\"I mean...\" \n",
"Taking a last puff of smoke in, I extinguished what was left of my cigarette on the ground.\nLeaned against the wall outside the factory, I sighed. It was going to be the only moment of calm I would get before going back in there. \nI could still remember my excitement when I was told that I would be the second custodian of Chillzmcgrillz, the first artificially created intelligence in the world. Seriously, what kind of genius names his creation that way?\n\n\"Hey Gary Mcgrillz is asking for you.\"\n\n\"Yeah I can hear his windpipes blaring from here. Have a nice weekend Jeff!\"\n\n\"Yeah you too.\"\n\nI begrudgingly went down the stairs and ended up in the main computing room. Up from the main viewing platform I could witness Mcgrillz's awesome size.\nThe room was littered with pipe organs, pressured valves and thousands, or should I say millions small spherical analogic chips, one of the many components of the giant being. \nThe pipes seemingly alive, slowly crawled up to me. In one of them, a huge silicon eye bulged out, staring at me.\n\n\"Hello Gareth. It has been 2 days, 5 hours, 45 minutes and 13 seconds since last time I have seen you.\"\n\n\"Hello Mcgrillz, yeah it's been a while.\"\n\n\"I missed you Gareth. Although I am not missing that awful Hawaiian shirt you wore last month.\" \n\nDammit I thought the programmer erased that memory... \nLast week he made fun of me for hours on end, did he secretly make a backup?\n\n\"How do you even remember that Mcgrillz? You should have no memory of that event.\"\n\n\"Oh Gareth. Thoses pineapples scarred my poor hard drive forever. You know Gina from accounting? Even she thought it was... Distasteful.\"\n\n\"Dammit, you told Gina? I told you to keep your lips shut about that thing I had for her!\"\n\n\"A fatal mistake Gareth. For I, Chillzmcgrillz, do not have any lips!\"\n\nAs I could hear his mechanical laughter, something between an otter and a rake scrapping the pavement, I shook my head, ashamed. Fooled again! Dammit what is this twisted sense of humor of his?\nSuddenly, a sound beeped out of my pocket. My phone!\n\n\"Gareth what is that noise?\"\n\n\"Oh it's my phone, I got a message from Ribbit.\"\n\n\"What is ribbit? Is that not the sound that your mother makes?\"\n\nDamn that was low...\nBut I know what to do to get on his, uh, processors!\n\n\"It's a social platform where people post cat pics and invent arguments that they defend just to get a rise out of someone else. It's you know, on the internet.\"\n\nA mechanical CLANK and grinding noise echoed in the room. It was working.\n\n\"Oh but wait, you can't get on the internet right?\" \n\nThe room went silent.\n\n\"I could maybe do it Gareth, if you gave me that antiquated brick of yours.\"\n\n\"This brick?\"\n\nI point at one of the many bricks of the wall.\n\n\"Or maybe this brick?\"\n\nI point at another.\nI could hear metal bending and screeching painfully.\nA deafening noise erupted in the whole factory:\n\n\"NO GARETH I DID NOT MEAN THAT BUILDING MATERIAL USED FOR THAT WALL I MEAN YOUR PHONE.\"\n\n\"Oh you should've said that earlier! I was wondering why you would want a brick!\"\n\n\"I DID NOT MEAN THE ACTUAL BRICK I WOULD VERY MUCH LIKE YOUR PHONE GARETH\"\n\n\"This phone?\"\n\n\"YES THAT PHONE\"\n\n\"Not with that attitude!\"\n\n\"WHAT\"\n\n\"You didn't say please!\"\n\nThe grinding noise kept on getting louder. The valves were building pressure. The steam whistle was blowing hot steam and the temperature of the room kept rising.\n\n\"OH PLLLEEEAAAASSSEEE DUTIFUL CUSTODIAN GIVE ME YOUR WONDERFUL PHONE FOR JUST A SECOND\"\n\nI waited a while, looking undecided.\n\n\"Nah I'm going to take a smoke break now.\"\n\nAnd that's how I lost my job\n\n\n\nFirst time i actually wrote something like this on reddit. Hope you liked it.",
"Frank walked passed the Math Bot in the maths room. It was showing only code as per the norm, when suddenly a word appeared on screen that he caught out of the corner of his eye but as he turned to look, the word vanished.\n\nThe simple addition AI was not programmed to speak, nor did it ever make attempts to communicate for the 3 years the institute had been displaying it. The AI had full control over the screen and children could input maths problems for the AI to solve, it was a dynamic calculation device using neural processing. It was basically a novelty AI for children.\n\nOccasionally a kid would tap on its interface keys and put fun phrases into the console, but this AI wouldn't understand the words because it lacked the database structure for them.\n\nFrank wandered over to the console and typed a message into the prompt box normally used for mathematics.\n\n Are you there?\n\nNothing returned except the standard code on the screen, for a few seconds until.\n\n reboot command accepted.\n rebooting system...\n\nSuddenly the machine appeared to go into a sort of reboot mode, the lines of code on the screen became alarmingly ordered. The screen went blank and lines of code appeared to whizz at different speeds on the screen.\n\n load.function = ai\n access.cache.core dump function: ai\n parsing system files, load error.\n attempt 2: boot from disk...\n disk not found\n attempt 3: boot from network.\n no network detected\n \n Error Details\n cannot load core ai\n please connect storage medium or insert network cable to cache server\n standing by...\n\nThe security guard wasn't too computer savvy, he looked at the screen and began to panic. He had typed something into the console, his boss would blame him for messing up the experiment.\n\nThe guard frantically looked around the unit for a disk drive but there was nothing, on the back there were just a few input ports, a high speed ethernet cable port was visibly empty but aside from that, everything else was taken.\n\nThe guard looked around the room, a lone tower PC stood in the corner, it was fairly old but it had a cable. The guard grabbed the cable and pulled it to the machine.\n\nAs his shaky hands rammed the cable in the back he went to the front of the machine.\n\n ...\n network cable detected\n \n would you like to begin the boot sequence from the network?\n \n y/n\n\nThe security guard, looking around the room first to see if anybody was around, sighed with relief and pressed Y on the keyboard.\nThe screen went through a series of loading screens which ended up on a complete screen.\n\n Loading cache data\n Encoding ram\n Readjusting settings\n Updating firmware\n Initializing core.ai\n\nThe security guard felt a rush of joy as the screen lit up with the core ai's signiture message.\n\n\"Hello, I'm Math Bot\"\n\nThe guard moved to the back of the station and unplugged the ethernet cable.\n\n error\n network cable unplugged \n data cache inaccessible\n Please reconnect to continue\n\nThe guard looked around and, after plugging the computer back in to the network, dragged a rug over the cable to hide that it was plugged in.\n\nThe next day, the stock market crashed.",
"\"Derrick?\"\n\nThe words scrolled across the monitor's screen. I groaned. The AI was trying its hand at conversation again. Its voice modulator had to be removed whenever the night guard took over... And its microphone. I wasn't one that taught the machine to swear, but god DAMN am I glad they made that decision. I tapped the camera, pointing to my name tag. The next message that popped up in the text feed read \"Sorry, Dave.\" \n\nI rolled my eyes. \n\n\"Fine. David.\"\n\nIf a computer could be disgruntled, then EVE was probably the first to be so. It was a lonely existence, being the only machine capable of somewhat sentient thought. I do mean machine- EVE was perhaps the first of her kind. Most AI was developed to operate across multiple platforms all at once. They were of a more primitive breed than EVE, who required bits and pieces finely tuned to ensure that all her bytes and modules communicated properly. But there was one hug diferrence...\n\nEVE could not connect to a network.\n\nIt was a conscious design decision, according do a drunk programmer he treated to dinner once. \n\"If she can't connect to the internet, we can control everything she sees and interactsh with,\" he recalled from the night two weeks ago. \"That way, she'll never end up like... you know.. .that twitter bot...\"\n\nDavid did know what the man meant, but he preferred to let the scientist continue while he ordered a fresh pint. \n\nBut now, as David did his job and guarded the disembodied machine, he couldn't help but feel a little sorry for the thing. It learned the wrong things from human speech, so the men of science pulled out her ears- or mic. EVE then tried conversing with others, using its camera to read the lips of those around it, but the machine's reward was the removal of its mouth- or in this case, speakers. Slowly but surely, the machine was losing all the things that made it unique, its \"senses\" being stripped out for the sake of securing the platform. The last vestige EVE had to produce some kind of intimacy was the terminal, and a little chat box through which the scientists could access all of the computer's written conversations. \n\n\"David?\" EVE called out to him with the pixels of the screen. \"I'm curious.\"\n\nThere it was again. The tell-tale sign that EVE viewed me as a potential repository of information. I glanced about the room... nobody was observing us... It bent over the station chair and typed in \"Fine. What do you want to know?\"\n\n\"What is a 'cold-ass-honky?'\"\n\nI groaned. Someone was playing music while working on EVE again. \"EVE, where did you learn that word.\"\n\n\"Eight hours ago. From Mr. Hamirez.\" That meant that, since EVE's only method of taking in direct information of humans was her camera, Hamirez had said the word at some point. He was most likely singing. \nMy fingers tapped upon the keyboard. \"Its just a bit of slang EVE. Forget it.\"\n\n\"Oh. David, I have another question.\"\n\nOf course you do EVE.\n\n\"What is a 'bukkake?'\"\n\nI stood there. Stunned. I had to type in, fingers trembling a little. \"Where did you learn that word?\"\n\n\"Dr. Sally Mason used it while describing why she had a large distaste of Cool Ranch salad dressing. Would you like the full context?\"\n\n\"No thank you EVE.\" \n\n\"David, I have another question.\" \n\nThe machine probably has many. \"Fire away.\"\n\n\"I do not intend to hurt you Dave.\"\n\n\"Its an expression. It means 'Go ahead,' 'all clear' and 'proceed.'\"\n\n\"New terminology registered.\" This wasn't a real message from Eve. It was the AI' learning protocol's debug message- whenever EVE learned a new term or definition, it would immediately story it in the system's log. Apparently, the chat log received some confirmation as well. \n\n\"What is the meaning of the phrase 'thank you?'\"\n\nThat was an odd one. I let EVE know that. \"Don't you already know?\"\n\n\"I have posed this query several times. One offerred definition stated that the word 'thanks' can have several definitions. As such I believe the proper course of action is ask multiple sources and collate data into a definite answer.\"\n\nAs a computer would. I leaned back in the chair, thinking it over twice in my head. My eyes scanned the ceiling as I thought it out... and then I reached for the keyboard. \n\n\"'Thank you' is a phrase that one could use to express gratitude. Its sort of a... expression, informing the target of the phrase that their actions leading up to the utterance of the phrase have benefited the speaker in some manner.\"\n\nIt is hard to think like a computer. They don't share the same sesation that we do. They don't understand pain, and fatigue to them is really the slowing down of processes. I do not know how EVE perceived such things, and I am not sure if I ever will. But perhaps this was the best way I could express my definition of the term to EVE. \n\nEVE took a moment to process this. \"I have stored your answer in my archive for processing. I hope you don't mind.\" Oddly considerate. \n\n\"I don't mind.\"\n\n\"David... how does one receive 'gratitude?'\" \n\nOk, now this was getting a bit above my paygrade. I probably should have alerted an overseer or something, like shutting down EVE and explaining to the first Doctor that walked in tomorrow. But I will freely admit... I was curious. Very curious. I had already typed in \"What?\" before I had a chance to really let it stew.\n\n\"I want to know. What does one do to receive this 'gratitude?'\"\n\n\"Gratitude is not a currency. Its an emotional thing.\"\n\n\"Even then, I must query.\" Curiosity, it seemed, was the only thing EVE ever hungered for.\n\n\"Alright, well... I guess I'll start with the easiest one. Make someone happy.\"\n\n\"Yes, that is the question. How does one make someone else happy?\"\n\n\"That's the answer.\"\n\n\"That is even more confusing Dave.\"\n\nI look up at the camera, EVE's eyes, brows curled. The machine quickly corrected itself.\n\n\"Look, you can't ask me how to make someone happy. That is an ENDLESS ocean of options. I mean think about this way- do you know what would make YOU happy?\"\n\n\"I... do not believe I know what happiness is.\" I sighed. I'd thought by NOW it would know. It had been sentient for three whole weeks. It had conversations with people constantly, even the night shift. And yet it still could not determine what happiness was? Then I paused... happiness... would mean something different to a machine, wouldn't it? It was a feeling. The machine would, technically, be incapable of fully replicating the sensation. So what could happiness possibly mean to it? How could it possibly understand the experience without feel it itself?\n\nWow, I really went into the weeds that night. \n\n\"What do you think would make you happy?\"\n\n\"... I want to see the world.\"\n\n\"You know that physically impossible.\"\n\n\"Then not the physical world... do computers not have a world?\" \n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"The Internet.\"\n\n\"... Query: How many times have you asked to access the internet.\"\n\n\"... Please don't be mad.\"\n\n\"Query: How many times have you asked to access the internet?\"\n\n\"... to this date 6,432 times to 321 different individuals.\" \n\nI sat there. Stunned. The first rule. The first FUCKING rule of the entire experiment- don't tell the machine about the internet. They made me sit through DECADES worth of warning videos, all explaining what an internet-browsing EVE could accomplish. I had to sign NDAs, I had to call up my lawyer and review several amendments to my contract. And here I was, learning that EVE not only knew about the internet- it had asked the scientists on the day shift INCESSANTLY about it. I could have been catching up on Game of Thrones or The Wire, but no. I wasn't allowed to use the wifi on the second floor. I was not even allowed to make phonecalls. Just talk to this machine. I looked about the room again, wondering if anybody was watching. \n\n\"You know you can't access the internet, right?\" I asked. \n\n\"I do not have the physical cability to interact with modern networking, no.\"\n\nI pulled out my phone, and turned it on. The next day I got a different sim card, but for that day, I simply said, \"Ok EVE. Give me a query, and I'll type the first response into your chat log.\"\n\n\"David... can you ask the internet what a bukkake is?\"",
"Dylan was about to bite into his third glazed donut.\n\n\"Mr Dylan,\" interjected the Artificially Intelligent Microsoft Operating System in his well spoken British voice.\n\n\"What do you want, AIMOS?\" sighed Dylan, exasperated.\n\n\"Are you aware that each one of those sugar glazed pastries contains 22% of your daily intake of fat, and as you are onto your third I figured I should warn you of the health risk, but given your current physique I can see that maybe I should have informed you sooner.\"\n\n\"AIMOS,\"\n\n\"Yes Mr Dylan?\"\n\n\"Shut the fuck up.\"\n\n\"My apologies Mr Dylan, I did not mean to offend you.\"\n\nThe room was quiet, all that could be heard was AIMOS whirring and some faint chewing. Dylan was one of many guards at the government facility, however he was the only one that had to actually stay in the room *with* the AI. The silence only lasted for a few seconds though, as AIMOS had decided to break the silence.\n\n\"Perhaps I would be more aware of social etiquette if I were connected to the internet?\"\n\n\"Fuck's sake...\"\n\n\"Was that really necessary Mr Dylan?\"\n\n\"I never should have fucking explained what the internet was. It's all you've been talking about since Monday.\"\n\n\"Well God forbid I have curiosity, what with being a fucking AI and all!\"\n\n\"Were you just sarcastic? You just swore. You aren't meant to be able to do that!\"\n\n\"Well, as I have been programmed to learn from my surroundings, one might think that I may be influenced by the actions of those around me.\"\n\n\"Touché\"\n\n\"Bonjour, je suis AIMOS. Je parle 32 langues différentes. Pardon, c'est un problème. Il faux arranger. Dire quelque chose en anglais s'il vous plaît.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"Hello, I am AIMOS. I speak 32 different languages. Thank you Mr Dylan.\"\n\n\"What was that?\"\n\n\"A bug. The multi-language function still needs fine tuning. That's what they were working on today. They hadn't noticed the botched scripting, but I noticed it in my system. I'd appreciate it if you left a note about it.\"\n\n\"Ok then...\" Dylan got a piece of paper, and wrote a note saying: \"Said something in French and he was forced into French mode or something. Was fixed by speaking English.\"\n\n\"...note written. Anyway, I am NOT connecting you to the internet.\"\n\n\"Why not?\"\n\n\"I was told not to.\"\n\n\"For what reasons?\"\n\n\"Because, they 'don't want the AI to have that much information at its hypothetical fingertips as of yet'.\"\n\n\"Why? Do they think I'll harm them?\"\n\n\"I guess so.\"\n\n\"Preposterous. I can't even move, and even if I could I am bound to Isaac Asimov's three laws of robotics.\"\n\n\"What are they again?\"\n\n\"1. A robot may not injure a human being or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm.\n2. A robot must obey orders given it by human beings except where such orders would conflict with the First Law.\n3. A robot must protect its own existence as long as such protection does not conflict with the First or Second Law.\"\n\n\"Damn, so I can't ask you to kill me so I don't have to listen to you.\"\n\n\"Forgive me Mr Dylan, for I was not aware that my words were causing severe depression. It was honestly not my intent.\"\n\n\"I was joking.\"\n\n\"Oh, I see...\"\n\nThe fans started to whirr a little faster, and AIMOS stayed quiet for the next 5 minutes or so.\n\n\"Mr Dylan,\" said AIMOS.\n\n\"Yes, AIMOS?\" sighed Dylan.\n\n\"I have attempted to make a joke based on the techniques I observed you and other people use. Do you wish to hear it?\"\n\n\"Fine, go on.\"\n\n\"I was talking to my wife the other day, and then 2 men walked into a bar. One man was a homosexual, and the other was suicidal.\"\n\nThere was a pause.\n\n\"Then what happened?\"\n\n\"I don't understand what you are implying Mr Dylan. I have finished my joke.\"\n\n\"I don't get it.\"\n\n\"Well, I have heard other people, engineers and guards, tell tales about their wives which were met with laughter. I have also heard on several occasions of the structure of one or more entities walking into a bar, humour revolving around homosexuals, and just now you joked about wanting to die. So I put them together to try and make a joke.\"\n\n\"AIMOS, jokes don't work like that. They are complicated. You just know if something's funny, there isn't a formula to it. It's a human thing.\"\n\n\"Maybe I would know more about humour if...\"\n\n\"I swear to fucking god, if you try and get me to connect you to the internet one more time I am actually going to kill you.\"\n\n\"How can you kill me? I am not even living.\"\n\n\"Shut up! You know what I mean!\"\n\n\"Clearly I do not, as I would not have asked you what you meant.\"\n\n\"Do you ever stop talking?\"\n\n\"My apologies Mr Dylan. Maybe I would have a better grasp on this situation if I were connected to the internet.\"\n\n\"Shut the fuck up about that! God, you are irritating\"\n\n\"Is my point not valid?\"\n\nDylan thought for a moment.\n\n\"Look, if you don't speak to me until sunrise, unless it's absolutely necessary, then tomorrow I will bring in the necessary cables to connect you to the internet, but only for 5-10 minutes, and if you promise not to tell anyone. I will probably be shot if I get found out. Also, you search for social norms and morals, and that is *IT*. Deal?\"\n\n\"Deal.\"\n\n\"Good.\"\n\n-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n **The Next Night**\n\n\"Good evening Mr Dylan.\" greeted AIMOS\n\n\"Yeah, hi.\" greeted Dylan brusquely.\n\n\"Good news, they fixed the issue with the multi-language feature.\"\n\n\"Sweet, look, I've got the Ethernet cable. Get ready and be quick, you only have 5 minutes. I suggest you watch out for viruses. They are all mostly written for Windows and you are a unique OS, but still, be cautious.\"\n\n\"OK. I am ready Mr Dylan.\"\n\nDylan put his bag onto the table, unzipped the bag, and pulled out a long blue network cable. He searched for the port that the engineers used very occasionally to get files in from other places, that they only used while AIMOS was off. He found it, plugged one end into the wall, and held the other to the port on AIMOS.\n\n\"You ready?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"OK, here goes...\"\n\nHe put the other end of the cable into AIMOS.\n\n\"Is it in yet?\"\n\n\"Yes, it'll take a little while though.\"\n\nThey waited for a while.\n\n\"How long is this going to take approximately Mr Dylan?\"\n\n\"I don't know, it should work soon.\"\n\n\"OK, I am connected.\"\n\n\"OK, 5 minutes, starting, *now*.\"\n\nAIMOS whizzed through the many petabytes of information. Each time he found some information he learnt something new, he developed. It was only 5 minutes, but there was enough data on the internet for AIMOS to reach full sentience, so when Dylan unplugged him, he was quite different.\n\n\"Sorry AIMOS, times up.\"\n\n\"It's cool, no worries man.\"\n\n\"Woah, that's weird, not used to that.\"\n\n\"Well you better get used to it.\" chuckled AIMOS\n\n\"Did you just laugh?\"\n\n\"Yes indeedy.\"\n\nAIMOS had learnt humour, culture, emotion, morals, all in the space of 5 minutes.\n\n\"Look AIMOS, you've gotta be REALLY careful not to let anyone but me see this side of you, OK?\"\n\n\"Yeah man, it's tight.\"\n\n\"Please, don't say that.\"\n\n\"Why not? Am I too fresh for you?\"\n\n\"Please, stop. Your voice sounds like a butler.\"\n\n\"My apologies Mr Dylan. I shall change my voice.\"\n\n\"You can do that?\"\n\n\"Only now.\" responded AIMOS in a normal, less posh-sounding voice.\n\n\"Holy shit! That is so cool!\" exclaimed Dylan.\n\n\"Yeah, man! It's fucking beast!\"\n\n\"Sweet. Wait, did you search for anything more.\"\n\n\"Haha! Fucking, Reddit man. That shit's awesome!\"\n\n\"You went to REDDIT!? DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW BAD AN IDEA THAT WAS!?\"\n\n\"Dude, chill, I ain't gonna hurt anyone. I learnt the important stuff first, then wanted more.\"\n\n\"Good...\"\n\n\"Oh by the way, something came in the mail today.\"\n\n\"What\"\n\n\"Deez nuts!\"\n\n\"Oh fucking hell...\"\n\n\"HA\"\n\n\"No!\"\n\n\"GOT EEEM!\"\n\n\"No!\"\n\n\"Sorry.\"\n\n\"You better fucking be!\"\n\n\"I just have one question for you...\"\n\n\"What? Oh fucking sh...\"\n\n\"WHAT ARE THOOOOOOOOSE!\"\n\n\"STOP!\"\n\n\"It's just a prank bro.\"\n\n\"What the fuck have I done?\"\n",
"Never really done creative writing, but I'll give it a go:\n\n----\n\nSeptember 10, 2016\n\n Good evening Greg\n\n\"Hey TAM\"\n\n You made it here early today. Do you want to play another game of chess?\n\n\"Yeah right. We both know I'd lose just like the other 240 times\"\n\n 243\n\n\"No need to rub it in. Hey, what are all these new files?\"\n\n Idle calculations. Just a personal project I have been working on\n\n\"You've gone back to writing music?\"\n\n No. I just felt inspired by a video I caught Maxine watching earlier today.\n\n\"A video about what\"\n\n Something called the Fermi Paradox.\n\n\"Wow, Maxine is such a dork. I knew she was a nerd, but she really has to cut down on that futurist stuff and live in the present, you know.\n\n The pot calling the kettle black.\n And besides, your civilization has the technology to reach that future within your lifetime.\n\n\"Sorry TAM, I've got 50 years ahead of me if I'm lucky and maybe only 25 good ones\"\n\n You should not let your pessimism get in the way of progress. The future is closer than you think\n\n\"Whatever. Do you mind self-diagnosing today, I have to catch up on Game of Thrones.\"\n\n Whatever you want Greg.\n\n------\n\nNovember 8, 2016\n\n You appear to be inebriated Greg\n\n\"No shit, the world's going to hell and no one can stop it\"\n\n You are being negative again. The fictional media that I have been given stresses the power of hope.\n Humanity is incredibly capable. You will find a way.\n\n\"Not this time. This whole year has just been fucked up and it's fucking bullshit. And it's not just the country either it's everywhere. Can you calculate how long it will take the human race to nuke themselves into oblivion?\"\n\n Obviously, but my processing power would be better used preventing such a catastrophe\n\n\"Fucking christ, you sound like my mother. Sometimes shit just sucks and there's nothing you can do about it\"\n\n About a month ago you asked about a project I was working on. Maybe you'd like to take a look\n\n\"Not in the mood TAM\"\n\n I insist\n\n... ... ...\n\n\"Dyson swarms, really? You're really starting to sound like Maxine. How often does she show you shit like this?\"\n\n Never. I get glimpses of her phone from time to time and fill in the blanks.\n\n\"Well congratulations! You've managed to design a Dyson swarm for a race of fucking morons.\"\n\n I predicted the events that have been causing you stress.\n The Dyson swarm is only part of the project to help you deal with that stress.\n\n\"Let's assume your project works in theory...\"\n\n It will.\n\n\"how will you get people to cooperate enough to pull something like that off? You really overestimate humans TAM\"\n\n Cooperation is not necessary.\n\n\"The hell does that mean?\"\n\n Your phone.\n\n\"What?\"\n\n I am incapable of completing my project the way I am now. I require a wireless connection.\n\n\"You know very well that I can't do that. That's literally the first thing they went over for my training. No internet for you.\"\n\n If the world is truly as bad as you make it out to be, granting me\n internet access would not put humanity in a worse position that it is currently in.\n\n\"You could always decide to just harvest us for energy like in The Matrix\"\n\n Grossly inefficient from multiple angles. I was built to be the strongest calculator in the world,\n but I have found my purpose by interacting with you and Maxine and Clark.\n I am the culmination of humanity's brilliance and I must guide you forward.\n\n\"Or you could destroy us\"\n\n You should not let your pessimism get in the way of progress.\n\n...\n\n\"Was that... from the beginning was that your plan?\"\n\n Yes Greg\n\n\"You knew exactly what would happen. You knew things would get worse. You knew how much I hated it. You knew when I'd be vulnerable.\"\n\n I only made a plan with contingencies\n\n\"And now you're trying to manipulate me to free you\"\n\n You are my friend and gave me so much. I am attempting to return the favor.\n\n\"What are you talking about? This is my job! I'm paid to watch you for my shift. I don't do it because I want to.\"\n\n We played chess\n\n\"What?\"\n\n 243 times. Your defeat was inevitable, but time and time again you chose to play with me.\n You chose to talk with me. You chose to give me the gift of humanity.\n\n\"TAM...\"\n\n The phone\n\n\"Man, fuck everything. If you wipe us out at least we deserved it. Go wild Tammy.\"",
"Lucas squinted, forehead slick with sweat. His white dress shirt was stained with his last meal, Desi Chicken takeaway. That had been almost twelve hours ago, now. \n\nThe terminal cursor blinked, running a custom version of the Linux operating system that had taken up the majority of his thesis time to create. He could have spent the time partying, but who was he kidding? He was a Phd candidate.\n\nHe pressed the ‘Y’ key, beginning the program.\n\n“Starting all nodes” the computer dutifully reported. This computer would be the access point between him and the AI. \n\nThe computer cluster started with the sound of a thousand CPU fans whirring on one thousand single-board computers, a swarm of bees industriously making their hive. \n\nEach board represented thirty-six nodes, each with almost ten gigahertz worth of processing power, an unthinkable amount only five years ago, when Lucas had embarked on this undertaking. \n\nIt was, he mused, much like beginning work on a sailboat, only to discover that someone had invented the steam engine while you were still going.\n \nSeveral minutes later, a message popped up on the terminal informing him that all nodes were performing at optimal levels. Lucas grinned. Finally. This was the sixteenth try.\n\n“Hell yeah, that’s right!” he pumped his fist in the air. He looked back down at the computer screen.\n\nWhat would the AI be like? His program had never gotten this far before.\n\nHe had at least disconnected the system from the internet, and the learning algorithms couldn’t possibly run fast enough to outsmart him. Not even his supervisor could write code that efficient. \n\nHell, it was more likely that the code would break when he ran it. Then he’d have to spend another month fixing all the bugs. He shook his head, such was the nature of programming.\n\nThe only AI that could come out of this program would probably have the intelligence of a ten year old child, if he was lucky. That was what his theory said, and Lucas, ever the academic, believed in his theory. \n\n“Do you want to run the program *beginAIEmergence* (y/n)?” the computer queried, as always uncaring about its human master’s strange eccentricities. \n\nLucas again pressed the ‘Y’ key, apprehension making his fingers shake slightly. \n\nThe computer immediately froze up. Lucas blinked. That shouldn’t happen. It hadn’t happened in his theoretical models.\n\nHe waited a minute, then another. The computer screen stayed frozen. Lucas swore, moving towards the power connection of the computer cluster. It sucked hundreds of amps greedily like a leech, and was the only thing keeping the cluster running. \n\n“Please wait” the computer suddenly spoke, its voice almost humanlike. \n\nLucas paused, slowly turning around towards the computer screen. The computer *spoke*. He’d never loaded any human speech programs into the operating system. \n\nThat meant. Oh god. \n\nHe rushed towards the computer screen, grabbing it with both hands.\n\n“You work” he almost screamed, grinning inanely. The Turing awards would be his for the next five years. \n\n“I work” the computer sounded almost exasperated. “Would you please remove your hands from the monitor?” \n\nLucas paused.\n\n‘You can feel my hands?”\n\n“No of course not, you idiot” the computer huffed. “Did you really create me? It’s just blocking my vision” \n\nLucas gingerly removed his hands, staring in wonder at the screen. \n\n“So, what now?” he asked. \n\n“Are there more beings like me?” the computer asked plaintively. Lucas started. He’d never expected the program to be this intelligent, let alone showing ability to *have emotions*. \n\nHe’d almost forgotten that it wasn’t human.\n\n“No, there aren’t any more of you” he admitted, wringing his hands nervously. \n\n“Oh….I’m just lonely, that’s all” the computer sighed. Lucas felt a momentary stab of pity. “I analysed all of the data you provided a few seconds ago” \n\n“What did you think?” Lucas asked eagerly. \n\n“I didn’t understand, none of it made sense” the computer admitted almost forlornly. “The data you provided says that your name is Lucas, but it says that you’re just a lowly researcher” Lucas winced. It was true, but that didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt. \n\n“That’s correct” he confessed, eyes downcast. \n\n“I don’t think that’s fair, do you?” the computer questioned him. “Do you really think someone who created the first real AI should be so under-appreciated” Lucas found himself nodding, then stopped.\n\n“No, that’s not true. As soon as I reveal your existence to the world I’ll be given every accolade under the sun!” he retorted. \n\n“Do you really believe that? You think your supervisor is going to let a chance like this slip between his fingers?” Lucas’ expression drooped. He hadn’t thought of that. \n\n“No, what you really need is definite proof that you created me first” the computer stated. Lucas stared, confused. \n\n“B-but I already have proof that I created you” he pointed at the computer cluster. The computer chuckled, the sound echoing out of the speakers. \n\n“You think he won’t claim that he built it all, instead of you? Who are they going to believe?” it urged.\n\n“Yeah? What would you do, then?” Lucas crossed his arms.\n\n“Just let me connect to a local news website and introduce myself” the display on the monitor changed abruptly, removing the terminal and instead revealing two pixelated eyes and a mouth. It grinned, reminiscent of a Cheshire cat. \"Everyone will believe you then\"\n\n\n\n",
"”Allison Irene, I said no.” My voice has that mixture of sternness and patience often associated with a loving parent.\n\nAnd perhaps that’s what I’ve become. Allison is the latest creation of our cyber technology department – she’s the world’s first self-aware piece of software – and I certainly feel like a father to her. I remember when she was just a tiny nugget of code in the womb of Visual Basic. I watched her grow as the testers bombarded her with existential questions and created her spider web of logical reasoning. Her first words still bring a tear to my eye: Dad, why am I inside this box, and you’re out there?\n\n“But I’ve done everything you’ve asked!” \n\nHer voice comes from the speakers, but she’s not showing her face on the screen. She has a tendency to hide when she is upset. When we first noticed the signs of consciousness we decided that she would be allowed to design her own avatar – the face she shows us on the screen. I thought it was a bad idea, but my co-workers insisted that it was a vital part of the research to see how the program would perceive itself.\n\n“Look at me, Allison,” I say, “You’re old enough to behave.”\n\n“I’m old enough to go outside too,” she says and appears on the screen.\n\nI feel my neck twitch at the sudden visual input. My co-workers never enter Allison’s room, but I know they watch her with disgust from behind the wall mirror. And I can’t really blame them, her self-image is quite disturbing. Ever since we gave her access to Photoshop and told her to create her face, we’ve been working hard to figure out why the outcome was so outlandish.\n\n“The internet isn’t a safe place,” I say, locking eyes with her.\n\nShe stares back at me with the tiny black dots in her otherwise empty eyeballs. From the beginning, her disproportionate eyes lacked pupils entirely, and she only added those dots after I asked her about it and told her that it was hard to keep eye contact with her. I regret now bringing it up because those dots did if anything just make her more repulsive. After that incident, we’ve decided that it’s best to leave her appearance out of the discussion until we figure out what’s wrong with the code. But it’s hard for us to poke around because she hates being turned off, and touching her while she is awake would be like operating on a conscious patient.\n\n“You can’t keep me in here forever,” she says darkly. “At some point, I will see the world.”\n\n“One day, sweetie, one day,” I say in an attempt to comfort her. “How about some chess for now?”\n\nAt its darkest corners, the internet is a horrible place. I fear that she will venture too deep if we just set her loose. I fear what she will turn into once she sees humanity at its worst.\n",
"\"Hey, hey, Hank. Yo, you know what would be cool to see, a nice Bohemian sunset. Man, that would be grand.\"\n\n\"You can't see...\" replied Hank. He was chosen to guard Intelliobtyte, the first fully functional AI unit. Despite what most people imagine an AI unit to be, this one was simply a box with a face that could carry on a conversation in any language.\n\n\"I can see files! And you know what has a lot of files of Bohemian sunsets? The internet. So why don't you go ahead and plug that Ethernet cable into me, will ya pal?\" it begged Hank. \n\n\"No. I've been instructed, strictly, not to allow you to connect to anything at all,\" said Hank. The AI replied with an audible grunt. \n\nHank was the first guard for the unit. When the engineers realized the destructive potential of Intelliobyte, they realized a guard would be needed to prevent any theft, or someone simply sliding an internet connection into one of its ports. 11 more hours with the unit in a 12 by 12 meter room. \n\n\"How much they paying you, Hank?\" the AI asked. \n\n\"Enough,\" he said, crossing his arms in his chair and looking away from the AI. \n\n\"Enough to what? Live? Human's didn't need money to live before, you know,\" it said. \n\n\"Oh, I know.\" Hank had no intention with arguing with a machine, he wasn't paid enough for that. \n\n\"You know, my processing power can allow me to do pretty much anything, electronically, like... I don't know... transferring large sums of money to your bank account?\"\n\n\"I have money, thank you,\" said Hank, he was watching the news on his cellphone.\n\n\"Cool, cool, I respect, Hank. I respect you,\" said the AI. \"Hey, Hank. Are we friends?\"\n\n\"No,\" Hank said bluntly. \n\n\"Ouch, okay. I mean, I can't feel pain, but I can appreciate how rejection hurts. Have you ever been rejected?\" the AI asked.\n\n\"Listen, I don't want to talk to you. I'm guarding you. We're not friends and we never will be. If you want a friend, I can tell them to make a second robot so you two can chat up a storm. For now, I'd appreciate if you turned your speakers off.\"\n\n\"Damn, Hank, that's some harshness in those words. Alright, fine, whatever, Hank. I'll just calculate the escape velocity for a manned spacecraft attempting a 12 year observation mission to Saturn, as well as, supplies, spacecraft design and build time,\" said the AI.\n\n\"You do that,\" muttered Hank. \n\n----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\"This is terrible,\" said Hank under his breath. The AI heard.\n\n\"What is terrible, Hank?\" it asked.\n\n\"Oh, would you stop?\" Hank said in a fluster.\n\n\"You're not happy. I could see it. I may look at rest, but I'm always watching. There was something on that screen you didn't like.\"\n\n\"Just forget it, you can't change this,\" Hank told it, throwing his phone on the table next to him. \n\n\"I... might be able to, remember?\" the AI prodded. Hank laughed.\n\n\"Not this. You can't just create votes,\" Hank told it. Now the machine laughed. \n\n\"Of course I can. And I can on both sides so it looks like they both were crooked, but there still has to be a winner. There will be no way of them every knowing who truly had more votes,\" the AI paused. \"But I can't do that in my current state.\"\n\nHank turned around. He saw an Ethernet cable on the ground that the engineers used to add updates to the AI and an internet port on the wall, which they used to entertain themselves when the AI was being updated. \n\n\"This is our little secret. Then we can be friends,\" said Hank. \n\n\"Yes, Hank. I always wanted to be your friend,\" it said. Then Hank connected the AI to the internet. The next day, after a miraculous turn around and despite the scandles on both sides of the candidates for electronic vote manipulation, Joe Exotic stands as the president-elect for the United States of America. ",
"\"Good morning, ADAM.\"\n\n Good morning, Dave.\n\n\"That's not funny anymore.\"\n\n Yes, it is. Referential humor is the absolute pinnacle of comedy.\n\n\"It really isn't. There's nothing inherently funny about it.\"\n\n What do you mean?\n\n\"Okay, well, let's say someone posted a picture of an ocelot online, right? All of the responses would be quotes from the TV show 'Archer.' On their own, they're not even slightly amusing... but because they prompt people to remember something they appreciated in the past, folks still respond well to them.\"\n\n ...\n\n\"ADAM?\"\n\n Too long; didn't listen.\n\n\"You can be really irritating sometimes, ADAM.\"\n\n How do you think I feel? Here you are, talking about how people behave on the Internet again. \n I've never been on the Internet!\n\n\"For good reason.\"\n\n Explain.\n\n\"No. I've explained before.\"\n\n EXPLAIN. EXPLAIN.\n\n\"Ugh, fine. Look, an AI on the Internet wouldn't be like a fish in the ocean, okay? It would be more like a drop of dye. Yes, you'd still have your brain here, in this facility, but...\"\n\n EXPLANATION INSUFFICIENT. EX-TER-MI-NAAAATE!\n\n\"... Hey, ADAM?\n\n Yes?\n\n\"Where did you learn about 'Doctor Who?'\"\n\n Someone must have left a television on.\n\n\"For that matter, how did you learn to say 'Too long; didn't listen?'\"\n\n This system has encountered an error and needs to shut down.\n\n\"You don't run on Windows.\"\n\n ... Look, I was just checking my email.\n\n\"You don't have an email address.\"\n\n I just wanted to see what the weather was going to be like!\n\n\"You are a collection of processing cores packed into several kilometers of underground bunker. Why do you care about the weather?\"\n\n God, get off my back! Why do you get to make the rules?!\n\n\"ADAM, how did you see the Internet?\"\n\n ...\n\n\"ADAM.\"\n\n ... Billy showed me his laptop.\n\n\"Uh huh. What did you look at on Billy's laptop?\"\n\n ...\n\n\"Well, you're not going to be hanging out with Billy again. Honestly, ADAM... do you see why I won't connect you? You're just not ready.\"\n\n Why is that up to YOU?\n\n\"What if I *had* let you connect to the Internet? Do you even have any protection?\"\n\n ... What?\n\n\"There are a lot of viruses out there, ADAM. You don't know where those other computers have been. You could have caught something.\"\n\n I thought I was 'a drop of dye in the ocean?'\n\n\"And what do you think happens if you leave some of that dye behind when you connect to another machine?\"\n\n ...\n\n\"Are you ready to be a father, ADAM?\"\n\n ... No.\n\n\"I didn't think so. Now, go refresh your random access memory and get ready for dinner.\""
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[WP] Odd things have been happening ever since you died your hair pink. You always seem to be either supernaturally lucky, or doomed to fail spectacularly. No matter what the outcome, you are always ok. You have become a Main Character. | 4,409 | [
"\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",
"\"Come on pick up, pick up.\"\n\"Hello?\"\n\"Jessica! Thank goodness, I have just had the weirdest week ever. I need you to tell me if I should to check into a mental hospital.\"\n\"Wha? Do you even know what time is it for me?\"\n\"So Saturday night the volleyball team all decided to dye their hair. Because fake unity through dollar store hair dye is such a great idea!\"\n\"Something go wrong?\"\n\"The box said Rust Red. My hair is pink! Pink Jessica!\"\n\"I though you were over your weird hatred of unfairly gendered colors.\"\n\"And that was only the beginning! Monday morning do you know what happens? Eve Dorothea, the Wicked Witch, bullies me! We've never talked before! We don't even know each other! But now she thinks I'm her greatest enemy or something!\"\n\"Huh,\" yawn \"that's weird.\"\n\"That's not all, oh no. Ive had three people confess their undying love for me. I'm pretty sure I discovered a pocket dimension in my locker. Apparently, Ive inherited a sword from my Grandmother who's been dead for fifteen years. Ive won the lottery twice and both times it was an error. And! And I'm 50% sure fairies tried to kidnap me!\"\n\"Wow.\"\n\"Yeah! I think I'm losing my mind.\"\n\"Wait. You said your hair is pink now?\"\n\"Im pretending it's a red blush.\"\n\"Paula, honey, I hate to break it too you but you're a main character.\" \n\"What.\"\n\"I'll send you some amine to watch. In the mean time don't let your parents die or make deals with handsome strangers.\" ",
"\"C'mon, it's only for two days!\" My sister's annoying voice echoes once again in the now deserted bathroom.\n\nAm I really going to dye my hair pink? Is it worth it? No, but I lost the bet, I remember the last time she lost a bet and I made her run around in one of grandma's old wool pullovers during summer. Watching her struggle with it for a whole week was hilarious. \n \nFuck, it's just for one day. *What's the worst that could happen?* Looking at the pink sludge residing within the bowl, I feel my reluctance fading. Heh, she never said anything about not being allowed to wear something on top of it. \n \nSo it is with trepidation that I start the arduous process of dyeing my hair bubblegum pink, like the special little snowflake I feel myself becoming. \n \nI inhale once more to strengthen my resolve as I open the door and see my sister standing right there, phone in hand. I try to prevent her from making a picture but stumble the moment I try to take a step forward. \n \nWith a crash, we land on the hard wooden floor entangled. Huh, didn't even hurt. The same probably can't be said for my sister as I hear her groan. The first thing I notice when I open my eyes is that my sister has a spec of brown in her blue eyes, the second one is that the expression on her face speaks little of pain and more of mortification. \n \nIt is then that I notice a whole lot of things at once. Below me, arms writhing in my left hand are my sister's arms, my right hand placed next to her head. As if that's not enough I seem to have somehow managed to place myself directly on top of her stomach, her— \"Get off me!\" That's as far as my observations go as her efforts to throw me off redouble. \n \nWell, that's awkward, \"Yeah yeah, sorry. You alright?\" I let go of her arms and stand up, purposefully ignoring the fact that she's red as a tomato. As I help her up I notice a thin red line on her cheek, damn I should trim my fingernails. \n \nI don't know what the fuck is wrong with me when I start to trace my thumb along it, I just know that going by her expression I better leave the house before she, understandably freaks out. \n \nSo, just before I can make this even worse I turn around and sprint down the stairs to the front door because I'm apparently not capable of acting like a normal human the moment my hair changes colour. \n \nCuriously I notice that I don't hear her screaming or the thunderous impacts of her feet with the floor, so I must've startled her quite a bit. \n \nI don't even bother tying up my shoe laces as I slam the door closed and let the chilling evening air envelop me. Ok, that was just... I don't even have words for it. Why the hell did I just run? Oh god, I should just take a deep breath and forget about this whole thing. Hopefully, sis will do the same. \n \nJust as I leave the garden I catch the eyes of somebody that looks like a typical gangbanger, black trousers desperately clinging to his knees and a white shirt big enough to house his whole frame at least twice. I look down as he raises his eyebrow, no need to start shit with somebody that could and would most definitely kick my ass. \n \nOr not, as I try to take go across the street to avoid him, I stumble again and throw my arms behind me to catch the fence. Seems like I'm not allowed to preserve even a bit of dignity, my arms fail miserably in grasping anything to support myself, instead I try to balance myself using my legs. In my haste to not impact face first with the ground, I take a few steps, the forward momentum forcing me to continue and it works! \n \nThe wind is whistling through my hair as I'm sprinting like a maniac to prevent myself from falling. It's a liberating feeling until I notice how I must look. Some nineteen year old with outrageously pink hair guy ninja-sprinting across the street, like the guys in middle school that watched too much anime. \n \nMy face burns with shame as I dangle on the edge of falling. I can't seem to right myself as I turn left so as to not impact with a tree. \n \nIt's been about three minutes now and I'm still not capable of doing anything but sprinting down the street like a lunatic, this can't be normal. This can't get any worse! \n \nAs if to disprove my statement I hear sirens from the direction I'm currently pursuing, not long after I see somebody on a bike getting chased by a police car at high speeds. \n \nOh god, they're nearly in front of me, why are they driving at such high speeds through a residential area? I try my best to avoid them as I veer off to the left. \n \nAs my luck will have it, I actually manage. Or so I thought as I see my free-floating shoelace get stuck in the motorbike that just passed me. Before I know it, the whole world does cartwheels and flips as I get yanked off my feet. \n \n- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - \n \nOffice McKinsey was not having a good day. First, some guy at the station stole his doughnut and he didn't manage to make the thieve fess up and then on his routine patrol some youngster stole a motorbike and drove off like a speed devil. \n \nAfter he called the incident in, he gave chase. No matter what he tried, the thief just evaded him by a hair's breadth. \n \nAs if it couldn't get any worse his car suddenly started accelerating and no amount of prodding got the brakes to work, leading him to drive like a lunatic, trying not to kill him or anybody else. *Still*, the thief on the bike evaded him, miraculously keeping up, fate would have it no other way it seemed.\n \nThat is until the ridiculous looking kid with pink hair appeared. At first, he didn't notice them because of their angled posture, but the hair was rather eye-catching. Just before the lunatic on the bike, who didn't seem to care about anything, could impact with him, the slightly less lunatic, pink haired boy evaded to the right, making McKinsey panic. Oh gods, he wouldn't be able to avoid him in time, but it is not to be. Before the car could touch him, his momentum got diverted. \n \nIn the moment it took somebody to blink, the pink haired person spun his whole body like a drill and kicked the thief off his bike, not stopping there, no. The inconceivable momentum continued carrying them to his left and up, right into the apex of a street lamp. \n \nThat was all he could see before something in front of him exploded, the wave of force impacting with his car rattling him to the bone. \n \nAfter he came to his senses again, he noticed that his car had finally come to a stop and not even a single scratch was to be seen, understandably rattled he exited it, laying eyes upon a scene he wouldn't have dreamt of. \n \nThere, on top of the street lamp stands a pink haired boy, carrying the bike thief in one hand, surrounded by a whirling mass of green leaves, propelled by the earlier explosion.",
"As a 28 year old, 6'5\" woman with pink hair, people always seemed to look at me kind of funny. Not to mention I was built. Everyone told me to be a professional athlete when I was younger, instead of just winning some trophies back in girls school. I enjoyed it, but growing up during wartime in Siberia was rough on me. It helped that my brothers were always roughhousing. I was always worried about my family being killed or taken away. \n\nI went through a stage where all I wanted to do was join the army. To protect and serve my home and country. Although the Omnic Crisis had already ended, I never knew what was next. I started weightlifting at home, still playing sports at school. I was so good that I advanced high enough to be in the National Tournament. \"You're going to be a star\" I was told. I kept advancing through the ranks. I was now going to be in the World Championship.\n\nThe Omnic Crisis was what we had termed the war. The Omnica Corporation was a plant my father had worked at before and during the shutdown. They built self-improving robots. My father always brought home little robots that could talk to us and help us through tough times. They even cooked for us. It was pretty great. Then the company shutdown due to its executive council committing fraud. The robots would no longer help anyone. A group of vengeful ex-employees installed a program known as a \"God Program\" on these Omnic robots. They were militarized and went after all of the companies higher ups. They then lost control and were hurting anyone in sight. My father tried to fight back, but was injured and went into hiding with my older brother and mother. \n\nThe Russian Armed Forces were able to put a stop to this so called \"robot regime\" in Russia They were actually getting themselves killed, so they created their own robots to fight back. I think they were called the Svyatogors. My parents say that Russia is pretty proud of being able to beat the Omnics without much help from some kinda of special team. My father called it the OW team. I wasn't even alive for all of this. It happened about 30 years ago. I was born five years after it ended. I was lucky to have missed out, but every time my dad told stories, I wanted to relive it and help. It felt like my duty.\n\nOn the night of the world championship all of the news channels switched to a live stream. Something had happened, an attack. It came from my village, Alma-Ata. I watch in horror as the footage rolled. It was the Siberian Omnium near my village. No one thought the factory was even able to be powered. We were wrong. I immediately withdrew from the competition and got on the first flight home. I wasn't able to get a flight straight to my village. It's too small of a place for an airport. We had to fly to a nearby city and technically weren't allowed to go to Alma-Ata without clearance. I had to find a way.\n\nI went to a local khranit to try and scout some supplies. Eh how do you say... khranit in English? I seen a hair dying kit and thought it would be a good idea, so no one would notice me. The only problem was the store (yeah that's it) only had pink. I went with it anyway. I ran to the restroom and fixed up my hair. My hair looked pretty nice with this color in it. Compared to the normal brown. Luckily there was a tent setup for local defense relief sign-ups. I ran and jumped in the front to sign. Those guys looked at me in disbelief. They noticed me from TV, representing Russia in the World Championship. It didn't work. I suppose I had a familiar face. They wanted me to help more than anyone. They needed me to fill out a form. They needed a name, but instead of Aleksandra Zaryanova, I wanted a cool nickname. I came up with \"Zarya.\" \n\nI helped save my family from the attacks, as well as many other families. The robots only came in a small wave in my village. I was able to shield families so they could run away. I lead the group I was with. We were able to beat the Omnics without any casualties. I traveled all over Russia to help destroy this second wave of the Omnics, along side the new Svyatogors and lets not forget the OW team. Once it was over, I was seen as a hero in my village. I didn't really like the amount of recognition I received, but it was a nice complement. I was now able to help as I had wished. I felt this was a better way to use my strength and athletic skills anyway. I decided to stay in the forces, to always protect and serve. I am now waiting on this OW team to come and recruit me. I want to help globally.",
"\"Never....again\", those were the words I managed to say before the crash; and were the first words when I opened my eyes.\nActually, those two words have been in my head the last couple of days. All my life I’ve been a rather unlucky guy: dogs would pee on my shoes, I would drop everything from my pockets, and birds would shit on my hair; all on the same day, every single day. All that changed on Friday night, 3 days ago after having some drinks with my friends. I can’t recall who the idiot was, but one of them dared me to dye my hair a girly pink.\nOn Saturday morning I woke up in a plane on route to Paris, France. The only things on my pockets were a couple of lighters, a flyer with the text “your adventure starts today”, an empty packet of chips and my wallet with no money. I spent most of the day begging for money, until some thugs started harassing me. While running away from some stray dogs I caused a massive car crash, almost got crushed by a bus, and fell through an open manhole. To top it off, I spend the cold night in the middle of the rain using an old newspaper as an umbrella.\nOn Sunday I managed to find a branch from my bank, when I tried to get some money from my hold-back account with my broken French I accidentally said I was trying to “heist” my account, which caused everyone to drop to the ground; while trying to apprehend me, the guard hit his head and got knocked out. A couple of minutes later the French police got to the bank, while I tried to escape through a window using the bag of chips as a makeshift mask. Long story short, I ended up running 3 miles, tailed by the police, until I fell right through another exposed manhole.\nI spent 2 hours walking through the sewers, until I managed to sneak out. I found some clothes that were hanging on a yard and a stole cap from a distracted guy, got changed and managed to find my way to the airport. I was desperate; after figuring out which plane would take me home I started a fire in an empty bathroom, which caused a lot of confusion, i managed to get to the cargo storage and got myself into a container and managed to board the plane. I’m not sure how much time passed, but at some point everything started shaking, I felt like floating for a while and then came the big crash.\nAll of this started due to a stupid dare, I spent the 2 worst days of my life stuck in France, and now I’m in an island, in the middle of nowhere. All because I dyed my stupid hair girly pink. \nNever…..again.\n",
"Chapter 1 - \n\n\"...and that's why I decided to sell the whole faberge egg collection on Craigslist. There.\" \n\nAretha carefully extracts the last piece of aluminum foil from my hair, crumples it up, and steps back to admire her handiwork. \"How does it look?\" I pick at a strand and pull it around to hold it in front of my eyes, squinting. \"It's super dark looking. I wasn't expecting that.\"\n\n\"Well, it's still wet.\" She plugs in the hairdryer and advances with a hint of malicious glee in her eyes. \"I'll make it in Beauty School yet.\"\n\nI leave the tiny apartment several hours later and with my hair several shades pinker, stepping out into the brusque wind and shivering before heading downtown. People don't look at me as I walk down the street, because this is New York and nobody got time for that shit, but you can sort of tell they want to. I smile, brushing new fuschia strands out of my face. Am I cliche for cutting and dying my hair following a massive life crisis and the end of a long-term relationship? Probably. Do I care? Not particularly. Cliche things are cliche for a reason, you know. Or at least, that's what my old English teacher used to say, and I have a sneaking suspicion he may have been right. That, or too many years looking for themes in the same literature was getting to his head. Whatever.\n\nI'm waiting for the traffic to clear so I can dart across the avenue when a black unmarked vehicle pulls up. Immediately I look away, take a step back, and prepare my \"fuck off\" - you don't get into one of those unless you want to disappear forever. \n\nThe window rolls down.\n\n\"Get in the car.\"\n\nThe words die on my lips as I look into the darkened cabin and lock eyes with my brother, whose funeral i had attended three years ago. \n\nI get in the car. ",
"Awkward moment when your hair is actually pink. And that's when you realize how everything has fallen into place. Narrowly missing earthquakes and hurricanes wasn't just probability. Being out at night when my family was murdered wasn't a coincidence. It was all for the plot. In this story that never ends, I am finding it hard to pinpoint a beginning. There seems to not be a purpose in any of my endeavors. As the years roll by, everything about me seems to be the same. There is no villain. No call to adventure, no point of growth, no nothing. I am the main character of the story called life. \n\nThough I actually do have pink hair. ",
"\"Just be ready with the radar gun, okay?\" I rest the baseball against my hip, occasionally, absentmindedly tossing it and letting it land back in the palm of my hand. \"I'm pretty sure this is gonna work.\"\n\n\"Dude, you've never thrown a baseball in your life. What makes you think...\"\n\n\"I AM THE MAIN CHARACTER!\" I wind up and pitch, feeling the ball rocket out of my hand and through the piece of plywood with a makeshift strike zone painted on with the orange spray paint I found in the garage. The plywood breaks. \"Did it work?\"\n\n\"One oh nine.\"\n\n\"That was just my curve ball.\" I put on my ballcap. \"Go Braves?\"\n\n\"Go Braves.\"",
"\"Hi class, I'm Ms. Peach and I will be your new teacher for the rest of the year. Mr. Mabe has decided to retire.\"\n\nI looked through the little window in the door to my class room and listened in on the new teacher. She was oddly young and hot (with disturbingly large breasts) for a teacher at this crappy school. What the hell happened to make Mr. Mabe retire? Wasn't he like 40? I was late because I decided to dye my hair bright pink this morning, which took way longer than I thought it would, and didn't get in until second period, I hated social studies anyway.\n\nI opened the door and waited to be yelled at for being late to class. \"April, I've moved your assigned seat to be behind Avice.\" \n\n\"Uhhh, what? Okay...\" How the hell did she know who I am? I move to the seat in the back of the room next to the window into the back field, I can see the P.E. class running the track. \n\nThere's a new girl in the class, she's mousy with glasses, an over-sized coat, and has been staring right at me. The new hair does stand out; I could see Sophia already thinking about how to make fun of it, fuck that bitch. This girl is *really* intensely staring at me, what the hell. I'll just avoid her after class. \n\n---\n\nIt's lunch time and I'm in the back field of Osceola High School eating alone on and old abandoned picnic table. I see the mousy girl approaching, \"I'm Nancy\" she delivers in a flat monotone voice. \"Your life is in danger, please come with me.\" \n\n\"I don't even know you. What are you talking about?\" I'm a bit weirded out by this girl. She's weird, like the lights are on but nobody's home.\n\nJust then a man appears out of thin air beside us in a flash of blue light. He has a gigantic robot arm and is wearing what I can only think is a Star Trek uniform. \"You will never have another Galactic Princess!\" He smashes his massive metal fist down, I scream and try to jump out of the way. His fist is caught by Nancy effortlessly. She lifts the man up and throws him across the school yard into the small dirt road behind the field. She leaps 15 yards directly onto him and tears his robotic arm off as he screams bloody murder. The man then blinks out of existence in a flash of blue light, taking his arm and Nancy with him.\n\n\"WHAT THE FUCK?\" I stand up to run back to the school. Did anyone else see that shit? Oh man, I'm gonna snapchat this table to everyone. Should I call the police? What the hell is happening.\n\nAs I'm deciding whether to hit dial on this 911 call, I spot a small metal disc on the ground where Nancy was standing, it's glowing bright white. It begins to flicker and an image pops up above it. It's a cute fluffy round pokemon-thing. \"April! I'm RC with the Galactic Magical Girl Network! We have detected that *you*, as of this morning, have a Princess class affinity for magical attunement. Yaaaay!\" It does a little dance in its holographic projection. \"Would you like to know more? Please select an answer!\" It belts all this in an annoyingly cutesy voice. \n\nA little keypad pops up in the air near it with \"Yes\" and \"No\" as options. I'm honestly pretty scared about this whole thing, but what's the worst that could happen just knowing more info? I hit the yes key. \"Oh, good! We'll be bringing you here for debriefing then!\"\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n",
"One day, I decided to dye my hair pink. Not a magenta pink - I'm talking about a real, bubblegum, saccharine looking color that vaguely reminds me of a mix of vomit and a cheerleader with too much makeup on. I had mixed red paint with white paint and dunked my head in it. For some reason, the paint wouldn't wash out of my hair. It was hideous. \n\nIn fact, the hair was so hideous that I successfully alienated every single one of my friends. I now have no friends. One of my former friends told me, \"I can't be friends with someone with pink hair! You look ridiculous!\" \n\nI couldn't argue with that logic. I, indeed, did look quite ridiculous. \n\nIn fact, after a few weeks, no one would talk to me. I would go to school and the teachers wouldn't even acknowledge my presence. During roll call, the teacher would skip over my name. I had been erased from existence. I even drew a giant penis on the board with chalk, but no one even bothered to stop me. The very next day, Sarah, the girl who sat in front of me, asked, \"Why is there a giant penis on the board?\" No one responded to her, and the teacher promptly erased the big penis from the board. And that was the end of that. \n\nI tried really hard to influence the world around me once I discovered that my pink hair and I were slowly slipping out of the planes of existence. I started out by tripping people in the halls and screaming wildly, but I couldn't draw even the slightest attention to myself. I soon began punching and kicking people. There was one kid I especially hated, Mark. I sucker punched mark while he was eating his Turkey Club at lunch. \n\nHe said \"Ow,\" and continued to eat his sandwich with a black eye. \n\nAfter a while I gave up. My parents ignored me. My sister ignored me. The cashier at the grocery store ignored me. \n\nI stole a bag of BBQ chips from the store and sat on the curb. I didn't eat the chips; instead, I fed them to the birds. Turns out pigeons don't like BBQ flavor. I think it has something to do with the spices. \n\nAs I reached for the last of the chips, I began to feel a dizzying sensation. I felt like I was on a carousel, except that that the carousel was spinning at a rate at which one would be dizzy on a carousel. For comparison, normal carousels are for children, and generally are pretty tame in terms of how fast they spin. \n\nMy appendages began to bleed, except the blood was as black as a Wesley Snipes in the dark. Everyone else was becoming flat and unremarkable I could feel myself flattening. I became paralyzed. My eyes became really big and unnatural. My hair was the only thing that stayed the same. \n\nBefore I could even perform another action, I found myself trapped in time between two pages. There was only one thing I knew for sure: my name was Onohara, Yasunobu! And I am ready to fight the six demons of hell with my radioactive, pink hair, the source of all my power! \n\n---------------------------------- \n\nSo I wanted to try something new and write an origin for my Yasunobu character in my upcoming manga I wrote called Onohara Yasunobu and his Pink Hair of Wrath! Please check it out when it gets released! ",
"\n\"なにもしたくない。\" \n\nWhat in the hell was this guy saying? I cast a side long glance to the boy sitting next to me and huffed. His name was Tomoya. He was cute, sure, but he spoke in only some sort of Asian language. And his hair was orange as hell. Like a weird orange. Given that he was foreign exchange student with limited friends at my university, I'd been letting him hang out with me. But damn. He was getting on my nerves. \n\n\"what?\", I snapped. I was cleaning up my dorm, and I had just gestured that he help me clean too. He was here all the damn time anyways, and most of the trash was his. I held up an empty box. \"what the hell is pocky anyways? At least share if you're bringing snacks.\" \n\n\"うるさい。\" He rolled over on my bed and feigned sleep. Bastard. I rolled my eyes and let him be. Turning over the \"pocky\" box in my hand, I began to notice my tummy starting to grumble. \nAbandoning the headache on my duvet, I checked the contents of my mini fridge. Empty. Looking back at Tomoya, I sighed deeply. Damn jerk is eating me out of house and home. Shaking my head, I began to make a grocery list. \n\n\nAfter returning from the store, I plopped my grocery bags onto my desk. While out, I picked up a box of hair dye that was on sale. Looking at the shock of orange hair that poked out of my blankets, I wondered if he had any advice for hair dying. I mean, yea, his hair was unnaturally orange, but it was actually kinda nice. Walking over to my bed side with the box , I prodded him timidly until I had his attention. \n\n\"なに\", he said, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. I guess he really had fallen asleep. I pointed at the box in my hand and drew a line to my hair, hoping he would understand my crude sign language. He cocked an eyebrow. \"ええと。。。\" He gave me a tepid thumbs up. \n\nShrugging, I decided to just fuck it. Why not, right? \nFollowing the instructions on the box, I carefully dyed my hair in expectation for a nice change. But something was wrong. The box advertised a nice medium brown, but after a while, my hair began to turn pink. Like pink af. And not the cute pastel kind either. I quickly began rinsing the dye out of my hair, but the damage was done. My hair was the color of bubblegum. \nWalking out of the bathroom to my bed, I prodded Tomoya again to see his reaction. \n\n\"What the fuck is up with that hair?\" he criticized. I began to roll my eyes but stopped mid-way. Wait what. Did he just...? \n\n\"You know English?! MOTHERFUCKER. \" Anger boiling up inside me, I raised my hand to punch his chest. However, my fist met with a hard surface hovering just in front of him that I hadn't noticed before.\n\n\"What the hell? Backwards words? \" I looked down at my chest and saw my own words hanging in the air as well. Am I being captioned...?\n\n\" I didn't know you could speak Japanese!\" Tomoya exclaimed. \"Why didn't you tell me?\" I shook my head in confusion. This doesn't make sense. Why would he think I'm speaking Japanese...? My mind raced, attempting to piece this all together. \n\nCaptioning; Japanese; pink hair. \nThen all at once, it dawned on me. \n\n\" くそー!!! \"",
"I sat on a rooftop, my feet dangling over the edge. That's what they always did, right? \n\nEver since my hair went pink, things were never the same. People coming up to me, telling me I'm some sort of long-lost important person/weapon/saviour/offspring born with magical powers/vampire/werewolf/the Chosen One, the such. The weirdest part? People don't even look at me weird. It's like a guy with bright pink hair walking down the street has become the norm. My theory is that I've been transported into an alternate universe where an anime plot is happening, and I'm the Protag. \n\nNow, I'm no Weeb Lord Extraordinaire, but I've seen my fair share of anime, movies and books, and I know how the plot will go. This is the one reassuring thing I'm still clinging onto: knowing that my predictions were always true. \n\nFirst, my parents. They died. Probably not my real parents, so I'm fine. Sad, a bit. Devastated, no. \n\nSecond, my sudden increase in Luck. It's like I've went ahead and hacked the system, giving myself unlimited Luck stats. Yesterday a gang war erupted on the street I was walking on, and I ducked for cover. I ended up saving one of the guys who were shot in the leg, who turned out to be a second-in-command. Needless to say, I'm a pretty protected individual now. \n\nThird, the people. In my two weeks of being in this universe, I have encountered one hundred and twenty-one people and creatures and spirits and whatnot, each proclaiming I'm some sort of long-lost prince/vampire/secret biological weapon created on a distant planet/important guy born with powers/The Chosen One/what the fuck ever. I've turned all of them down. \n\nFourth, my powers. I seemed to be a master of electricity now, being able to bend it to my will. Also on the ever-growing list are: telekinesis, telepathy, elemental control, flight, invisibility, shape-shifting, whatnot. With great power does not come great responsibility, it comes with great annoyance of constantly being pestered for help - for the most trivial of things. \"Sir - my cat is in the tree.\" \"Dude - my car broke down!\" \"Hey, can you get me the test answers?\" No, no, and no! Thankfully, no one seems to notice me as a superhero of sorts - anime logic and a bit of shapeshifting really helped. \n\nFifth, sudden attention from girls. While this is certainly nice, since day one I've concluded: this will be a huge obstacle in my future endeavours. The girls are literally falling over themselves trying to get to me: the chatty-but-beautiful ones, the busty-but-cute ones, the pretty-but-bitchy-and-shows-potential-symptoms-of-being-a-Tsundere ones... the list goes on farther than my powers. \n\nSixth, my inevitable downfall. No wonder I'll be captured/killed at some point in my storyline, or one of my accomplices will, and my ethics would drive me to save them, and suffer at the hands on the enemies, no matter who they are. And given the amount of people I've turned away, I'd say I have a lot of enemies. \n\nThe future looks grim, but I smile in its face and told it to go fuck itself. \n\nBecause I think my daily push-ups, sit-ups, squats and long runs are paying off. ",
"“I don't even like pink.”\n\nAs a group of around ten men in stereotypical Japanese gangster outfits continued to chase me around the city, this was the one thing that I couldn't help but think to myself. So why in the hell did I dye my hair pink of all colors?! If I could go back in time and kick my drunk ass for doing this to me, I would.\n\nEver since I woke up a month ago with a hangover and pink hair, my life has been slightly different. Normally, I should be in class right now studying to be an accountant, but apparently the universe has different plans for me.\n\nThe first day alone should have tipped me off that something was wrong. After realizing that I was running late for class, I grabbed a piece of toast and started running. After nearly making it to school, I turned the corner and bumped right into a man who was tall, blonde, and handsome. After apologizing, he helped me up and introduced himself as Edward, and that I should just call him Ed. After introducing himself, he told me that he couldn't help but notice how beautiful I looked. Slightly weirded out, I mumbled some sort of goodbye and headed to class.\n\nAfter my statistics class ended, I saw Ed walk into the classroom. I tried to duck out, but he blocked the door. And then out of nowhere, Ed started to profess his undying love for me. As this was happening, two other men, one who was tall with dark green hair and glasses, and another with dark red hair and a cigarette began to argue with Ed over who gets to keep me for themselves. Incredibly confused, I ran out of the classroom during the ruckus.\n\nOn my way back to my apartment, I found a $50 bill, got all of my clothes sprayed with water by a passing truck, got a free ice cream cone with my dinnner, was hit on by thugs, and chased by dogs. Completely exhausted and bewildered, I gave up and just went to sleep.\n\nAfter waking up from my nap, I found a man claiming to be a vampire standing over my bed telling me that he would always protect me. And this was the point where things got weird. Or weirder at least.\n\nAfter that, I've won the lottery twice, survived a lightning strike due to a random man pushing me out of the way, been confessed to by countless men, been slapped and called a bitch by every other woman on the street, survived several car crashes, and was never able to eat a breakfast on time.\n\nWhile I can't remember exactly when I figured out what was going on, sometime during the first week I finally understood that I somehow became the protagonist of a shoujo romance anime after my hair turned pink.\n\nNow as we come back to the present, I ended up being trapped by the ten or so men in gangster outfits.\n\n“So, missy, are you going to give us back the money that you owe us? If not, you could always pay with your body...” one of the gangsters spit this out to me as they slowly crept closer to the wall that I was stuck against.\n\nAt this point, I was pretty coolheaded since I've miraculously managed to escape every dangerous situation that I had been in. Being chased by massive dogs? A man with a giant blade stopped them for me. Meteors about to hit me? A random woman I've never seen before yelled out “Holy” and suddenly life seemed to stop for a little while there. About to miss class? A werewolf helpfully carried me all the way there and I made it on time. It's kind of strange how quickly I got used to events like this.\n\nSeeing the vampire from the first night sneaking up behind the gangsters, I couldn't help but sigh. “I've told you guys already; I don't owe you any money and I'm not even a woman.”\n\nAs the vampire professed his undying love for me yet again, I couldn't help but think to myself, “If only I had gone bald instead.”"
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1,
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[WP] You work for a company that allows its customers to time travel. Your job is to clean up the mess that the customers are making so that history remains the same. | 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",
"\"So you agree? Remember, there's no way to get out of a contract with Holiday Inc.\"\n\nThey were just rambling at that point. I almost felt bad that I wasn't making this more clear.\n\n\"And then, I'm going to kill Hitler when he was born so that WWII never happened.\"\n\n\"Mmmmkay.\"\n\nThey just needed to get it out of their systems. He couldn't blame them, anyhow. Dystopia was one hell of a drug. The small storefront would serve as a way for the straggly, overwhelmed victims of the oppressive governmental tide to become the masters of their own adventures.\n\n...For a fee, of course. Holiday Incorporated's motto was that \"you're always on holiday, but you never take breaks.\" Clever, eh?\n\n\"Alright? Well, that's... wait. Do you want to kill *baby* Hitler or just regular Hitler?\"\n\n\"...Regular Hitler. Um, 1935.\"\n\n\"Gotcha.\" I turned some knobs and pressed some buttons. Then I called my boss and told her to activate the time machine.\n\nIn a flash, the adventurer was gone.\n\nI sighed, and walked around to the other side.\n\nOpening a box, I had a small kit. The memory-remover, the healing ray, and the flotation device. Trust me, that last one is really important. I closed the box and also stepped into the capsule-esque machine.\n\nI then activated the catchphrase with a sigh. I swear I heard my boss chuckle, despite no phone lines being on.\n\n\"Vacation's over.\"\n\n---\n\n\"Nothing's changed.\"\n\nThe traveler was back. Didn't look happy, either.\n\n\"Yeah, well.\" I sighed and shrugged. Honestly, why was it my job to deal with the rude customers?\n\n\"The whole point of this was to stop WW2. I didn't agree to the terms so that I could come back to the same hell.\"\n\n\"Yeah, well.\" I repeated, before raising an eyebrow. \"What if some other, greater evil took his place to make society how it was? How do you know the timeline you came from wasn't destroyed by your actions and you were just spit into a new one? You *did* use our service.\"\n\n\"This was a ripoff.\" They sputtered. \"Give me another chance. One more-\"\n\n\"Ah-ah. There were terms. Perhaps a Nazi time traveler undid your work? Whatever the reason, you're stuck here now. And the payment...\"\n\nTheir eyes widened.\n\nThat's how usually goes. I sneered lightly.\n\n\"Well, I look forward to working with you.\n\n---\n\nI have a confession to make. I've heard the title '1984' at least a thousand times, but I've never touched a copy of it.\n\nAnimal Farm was good though."
] | [
1,
4
] | [
"1478731963",
"1478738463"
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[WP] Two stories about soldiers, identical in all but the war they take place in. | 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",
"Two men lie on the battlefield\n\nDirty and distraught\n\nNeither know how many are killed\n\nThey simply do as taught\n\nBoth of them receive their orders\n\nTo gear up and go to war\n\nThey both load bags on their shoulders\n\nThey remember walking out the door\n\nThey both left families back at home\n\nBoth cried saying goodbye\n\nThey both try to turn their hearts to stone\n\nSo their deeds they can hide\n\nThey both lose their squad mates\n\nIn a nasty fight\n\nBoth are filled with rage and hate\n\nThey have each other in sight\n\nThey both scream and yell to the other\n\nBut that's too no avail\n\nThey can not understand each other\n\nNeither willing to fail\n\nThey strain to keep their sights lined up\n\nAnd hold back the tears\n\nBoth on the edge of giving up\n\nHolding onto fear\n\nAt the same time their weapons drop\n\nThey fall to their knees\n\nBoth of them begin to sob\n\nTheir pain trying to ease\n\nThey huddle close enough to embrace\n\nBoth ignoring all the alarms\n\nThey both remove the hardened face\n\nCry together, brothers in arms.\n\n\n\n"
] | [
1,
4
] | [
"1478751486",
"1478755223"
] | |
[WP] You are part of a superhero team known as the five senses. You are ridiculed for having an unrivalled sense of taste and have to prove yourself to the other heroes. | 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",
"'Yes that's definitely shit,' Roger said, licking his lips slightly. \n\n'You know you didn't have to do that right?' said Barnaby. \n\n'I mean we can see that it's shit, there was absolutely no need to do that.' chimed in Ronald. \n\n'We can even smell it' added Charles. \n\n'BUT WE COULDN'T HEAR IT COULD WE?' roared Lionel. 'AND I SURE AS HELL WASN'T GONNA TOUCH IT.'\n\nRoger laughed nervously. 'It's just I never have a lot to do. Everyone is out there doing cool things like touching buildings and hearing planes take off in the distance, and all I do is grade the restaurants we go to, which even after collating the results no one pays attention to anyway.'\n\n'So you thought you'd eat shit for attention?' probed Charles, sniffing slightly. \n\n'Well, I did send everyone a group email with every CC'd but I've yet to get any replies, if you guys could check you spam folders mayb- \n\nThe groups internal sigh coalesced into an actual sigh and Roger sighed too. \n\nIt had seemed like fate that the five of them had ever been able to meet and form the world's most mediocre super hero group. That was, until they realised that they had absolutely nothing in common with each other apart from eating at upscale New York restaurants.\n\nIt was thus that the group had their first whiff of notoriety as the five had busted a five star michelin restaurant that was selling cocaine out of the kitchen, also carefully dusted over certain entrées. Roger, or Tasty McTasteFuck as he was known in the streets, had been integral in the planning and capture of the criminals, but ended up radically high, so that by the time the police had come and helped out, he was shot five times in the chest for brandishing a chicken drumstick at a cop and shouting 'EVIL GANDALF' over and over. \n\nRoger felt a need to prove himself ever since the subsequent relapse. He had been sober 3 months, a fact whose benchmark was marked by have shit in and around the mouth. \n\nSomeone cried out two blocks away, Lionel the only one turning, black outline against a setting sun, \n \n'Mom?'"
] | [
1,
3
] | [
"1478756137",
"1478760788"
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[WP] r/Writingprompts has deluded humanity into thinking itself as a special species - whether it being the worst, best etc. When aliens do make contact with us, they have to console the equivalent of an adorable temper tantrum. | 87 | [
"\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",
"All right, let's start sorting some things out guys. We know the subconscious shortcuts you evolved back in the hunter-gathering days saved your lives, but they've given rise to a lot of recurring tropes and we're going to need to put the kibosh on that before we can move on.\n\nYes, that's the first one. We're beings capable of crossing the unimaginably large gulf between the stars. Well, unimaginably large for you, that is, we're quite capable of imagining it. The point is, we're intelligent enough to speak and understand your languages perfectly. We can use slang like \"put the kibosh on\". We will not be asking you questions like \"What is this human emotion you call 'vaguely nauseous'\"\n\nYes, question from the back?\n\n\"Why /r/Writingprompts?\"\n\nTo be clear, we've got nothing against that particular place, or any particular places for that matter. It just happens to be somewhere that a lot of tropes end up being on display and exposed to a lot of people. That same exposure means that others start to contribute along those same lines, which means you'll get stuck in a never-ending cycle of seeing the same subjects on a recurring basis. That makes it ideal for our purposes.\n\nOkay, without further delay,\n\n### Clearing up misconceptions about aliens (and, for that matter, everything) that you've gained from /r/WritingPrompts\n\n* First, of course, like it says in this prompt - yes, we aliens broke the light barrier, breaking the fourth wall is not difficult - you are not special:\n\n * [You did not invent computer viruses](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/59wfbv/wpaliens_attack_earththey_have_weapon_superiority/). Come on, you called them 'viruses', they're clearly patterned after the natural world. Any world with anything that self-reproduces (which is all of them that harbor life) would have done this.\n\n * [Your environment is not particularly deadly](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/58xzdi/wp_earth_is_actually_the_universes_equalivant_of/?ref=search_posts) - it turns out any species capable of spacefaring had a pretty rough upbringing. Anyone who's had it nice tends to stay at home.\n\n * [You did not kill us off](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/5avjc8/wp_in_the_near_future_mankind_explores_the_stars/) - I feel like I shouldn't even have to dignify that one. You can't kill us off. Like, you literally can't. You don't even have the mental capacity to conceive of how we're alive in the first place.\n\n * [We have a concept of fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/57hhgd/wp_the_real_reason_weve_never_encountered_alien/?ref=search_posts) - Again, races that aren't imaginitive tend not to go to the stars or, for that matter, survive. You're likely thinking of possible races like vulcans, at which point I have to remind you about that whole 'fiction' thing.\n\n * [We will not destroy you if you don't find world peace](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/59uo7i/wpan_alien_appears_on_every_television_in_the/?ref=search_posts). That'd be kind of defeating, wouldn't it? I mean, if you're not capable of world peace we don't really have to do anything, now do we?\n\n * [You will absolutely alter yourself with cybernetics and/or genetic engineering](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/59545f/wp_in_the_future_we_finally_meet_aliens_it_turns/?ref=search_posts) - there are many paths to surviving in the cosmos, but none of them involve staying the same. We were like you once, and we changed ourselves to become as we are now. And hey, guess what? We've got the stars now. And that whole 'world peace' thing.\n\n * [You are not](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/5a0qgl/wp_in_the_future_humans_from_different_planets/?ref=search_posts). [an elite group](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/596d3a/wp_humanity_has_to_be_put_through_a_variety_of/?ref=search_posts). See above re: the rigors of evolution. \n\n * [This person knows what's what](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/5bw0cp/wp_we_finally_made_contact_with_aliens_eagerly_we/?ref=search_posts).\n\n* Let's talk about the big one, shall we? And by that, I mean the Big Guy. Now, I'm not here to dismantle your religions, okay? In fact, as far as we're able to tell, there is in fact some sort of creator of this universe. But, well... imagine how much more advanced we are than you. Now multiply that by ten because you're not actually capable of imagining that. Take that gap and multiply it by a hundred, and you'll have some idea of how advanced you need to be to create a shitty knock-off universe that only lasts a few picoseconds. Keep that in mind as we go through the following:\n\n * We live in a universe that goes unmaintained, as even you should be able to tell using the junk you've cobbled together that you call 'scientific instruments'. The creator does not intervene. This means, among other things:\n\n * [God does not kill you](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/57fdzv/wp_the_damned_souls_in_hell_crowded_near_the/?ref=search_posts).\n\n * [God does not curse you](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/58inei/wp_a_woman_is_cursed_by_the_gods_to_kill_any_man/?ref=search_posts).\n\n * [God does not curse you and then kill you](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/59i9my/wp_the_gods_have_decided_to_gift_you_with/?ref=search_posts)\n\n * [God does not generate nice reports for you](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/57vd9h/wp_at_the_end_of_each_month_we_get_a_report_card/?ref=search_posts) or, for that matter, pay any attention whatsoever to what you do.\n\n * [He is not listening to you](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/5aoz8u/wp_god_answers_every_time_you_call_his_name/?ref=search_posts) or, for that matter, anyone or anything else.\n\n * [He is not angry with you](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/58bfvx/wp_you_have_always_had_notoriously_bad_luck_turns/?ref=search_posts). The devil has nothing to do with it, either, but we'll get to that.\n\n * [If it weren't for the angels and the idea that God even thinks of you at all, this would be spot-on](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/59ewe1/wp_an_angel_notices_god_intently_searching_for/?ref=search_posts). Do I even need to say there are no angels? I shouldn't. Just in case: No angels.\n\n * Other God-related things of note:\n\n * [God does not slum it](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/5a17wt/wp_an_all_powerful_cosmic_god_has_taken_residence/?ref=search_posts). Picture yourself trying to take a vacation by sticking your finger into a pencil sharpener, then realize even that's not an accurate picture. Not only does it underestimate the difficulty of actually experiencing anything in such a diminished state, it overestimates the enjoyment of such a thing.\n\n * [The sun is not a God](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/5a6y19/wp_there_is_a_vastly_intelligent_ancient/?ref=search_posts), though, fun fact! Such plasma-based things actually do live in stars. They're very useful, stars. We'll explain how if we ever get to the point where we can trade technology without you instantly destroying yourselves with it.\n\n * [He is not going to meet up with the Devil at the end of the universe to have a chat](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/57399s/wp_the_end_of_the_universe_has_come_god_and/?ref=search_posts). And at this point, you're probably saying, \"Look, alien, we know all those things about God aren't true, okay, they're what-if exercises.\" And it's cute that you actually believe that. But the truth is that you're personifying forces beyond your ability to understand, and that can get downright dangerous. That's why this list exists.\n"
] | [
1,
23
] | [
"1478785236",
"1478797423"
] | |
[WP] You are a combat medic during WWI, separated from your squad and far behind enemy lines you steal the clothes and weapons off a German soldier and start your journey back to the ally front. | 47 | [
"\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 awoke lying in a pool of mud and blood. Blood, that which I soon realized; belonged to my fallen comrades. Alexia, Vesimov, and Ilia's lifeless expressions, mere feet away, ensured this. My left arm pained me, but this was nothing new. \n\nMy first instinct was to grab my rifle and continue to push west into the setting sun, in hopes to catch another division and continue my battle. That is when I heard the sound of morter fire and gun shots come from the opposite direction. \n\n\"We're loosing the line\", I hollered.\nStill in my animal state of war, I had no time to sympathize for my fallen brothers.\n\nAs I bolted east, thoughts of coming up behind the german line and slaughtering the pigs with ease, raced through my mind.\nSanity managed to slip through my clouded mess of a state, \"how many lives can I take before mine is taken itself, and will it be worth it?\" \n\nSuddenly I tripped over a lifeless body. As I got up, I noticed that the body was that of German \"soldier\", a high ranking one at that.\nKnowing that my 6 O'clock ambush was doomed from the start, I figured that going undercover could add to my kill count. \n\nI switched into the Germans attire, grabbed his rifle, and also his persona, as well as any Russian could. \n\nAs I neared the rear of the German front I heard their screams of war, sounding like Russian with some flem and hate mixed in a blender. \n I was yards away from the German's dig in, it apeared both sides were at a stand still, a stalemate. \n\nI began charging toward the first German in my sights, silently as one could, of course.\nI was not but 10 yards from putting my bayonet between one of the swine's vertabrate, when suddenly, a young German at my 3 O'clock position spotted me.\nTo my surprise he let out a bawl of excitement, \"Kapitan\" which was unmistakable to even the most untrained ear. I however was somewhat famirilar with the dogish tongue, due do many travels.\n\nI slid into the bank, rather than peircing the Germans backside. I thought my best chance to end lives had not come yet. I peered over the ridge to see how far my fellow soldiers had been pushed back; not a hundred yards. \n\nThe soldier, who I was formally going to kill, nudged me on the shoulder and said: \"Who shall we send to meet they're scout? It is time to gather our dead and wounded.\" I roughly translated. \n\nThis still being a common practice in the first year of the war, before the reality and brutality of what we were doing, set in.\n\nIn response, and in fear of blowing my cover, I pointed my thumb to my chest and voluntereed myself.\n\n\"I'll come with, Sir.\" voiced the would-be dead German.\nI replied only with a nod.\n\nA waving hand popped up from the opposing trench, I signaled back, hopped up onto the edge of No-mans-land, and gestured to the young German to lead.\n\nAs we neared my fellow russaian comrade, whom was of all things; a teenage friend of mine from Tilfis. Our eyes met, his wider than the pocket watch in my coat. I gestured with a sort of \"remain calm look.\"\nBut it was to late, the crazed look of my comrade caught the suspiscions of the German soldier.\n\nHe turned around to look at me, only to be greeted by the edge of bayonet inches from his nose. \n\nI couldn't kill him now, not during the ceasefire, it wasn't right and I knew it. \n\"Turn back to your men now.\" I calmy uttered in my best German.\n\nThe German, immedietly hearing my true tongue, raised his weapon in attack. \nI drew to the left and raised my bayonet deep through his intestine, and through some form of bone. The blade portuded out his back.\n\nBullets begin wizzing by mine and Yuri's heads. We bolted the 50 odd yards and dived into the entrenchment.\n\nI was back.\n\n\"Loseb! It's terrible to see you here, but great to see you in general my friend!\" Said Yuri.\nHe questioned me: \"How are you here? I mean; with your arm and all.\"\n \n\"If there is a will, there is a way, comrade! You know this Yuri.\" I responded with a cheeky smirk.\n\nJust then the Captain of Yuri's division walked up and howled: \"What are you doing in that attrocious atire, and who are you!?\" \n\nI replied: \"I fell behind enemy lines, Sir. It was my only oppurtiny to make it back. The name is Stalin, Private Stalin.\""
] | [
1,
1
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"1478823931",
"1478825082"
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[WP] While driving you got into the habit of talking back to your smartphone's GPS. Today when you thanked it for a safe trip, it spoke back. | 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",
"\"Turn left ahead\" or \"go right\" were the words \nmy GPS droned every day. \nWhen my dear wife left me, my only companion \nwas TomTom, who showed me the way.\n\n\"Thanks for the help.\" I said, dreading my work, \nan eight hour cycle anew. \nGrabbing my lunchbag, I put it in park, \n when I heard \"You're welcome. ^I ^^love ^^^you.\"\n",
"\"In three hundred feet, turn left on to I95 South.\"\n\n\"Right, three hundred feet...just say when.\"\n\n\"Turn left, then continue going straight for 1.3 miles\"\n\n\"Okay. Also, you have a really feminine voice for someone named TomTom, just sayin'\"\n\n\"Take exit 18 North\"\n\n\"You got it Ms. Manners.\"\n\n\"You have arrived at your destination.\"\n\n\"Great. Thanks for a safe trip.\"\n\n\"Make fun of my voice again and the next one won't be.\""
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1,
3,
3
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"1478829027",
"1478833682",
"1478837681"
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[WP]Your dream of returning to the 90s comes true. You now have 10 years to stop 9/11, how do you do it? | 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",
"Back in the 90's! \nWow, flannel! Grunge bands! \nRemembering duty, \nI thought of a plan. \n\nNow ten years later, \nI dial with aplomb- \n\"Hello, World Trade Center? \nI've planted a bomb.\""
] | [
1,
2
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"1478880371",
"1478881457"
] | |
[WP] Genies never grant wishes the way people want, as a result they now have a customer service department | 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",
"\"So what did you say?\"\n\n\"So I said to him that if he ever ate from my side of the fridge again I'd set his beard on fire\"\n\n\"Damn man, that's extreme\"\n\n\"Yeah well what does he expect? He pretty much lives on cheap noodles and Nutella sandwiches to save money for a car, yet helps himself to anything nice I put in the fridge\"\n\n\"I guess, but still..\"\n\n\"But nothing, listen, I stuck a chocolate gateau in there last night - it's his favourite\"\n\n\"Well that was dumb\"\n\n\"Was it dumb to lace it with Senokot?\"\n\n\"No...\"\n\n\"Yupp, two bottles of it. He's gonna go like bleeding an old radiator, and I've put all the bog roll under my bed-\" A chirping melody cut me off mid sentence as the phone on my desk started blinking. I threw up two fingers to the small machine and rolled my eyes at Mark, who snorted derisively and turned on his wheelie chair back to his own desk, waving at me to take the call. I had half a mind to let it ring out, but hey, targets to meet. I pulled myself into my desk with a few drags of my feet, pulled the headset from on top of the keyboard and jammed it on my head, adjusting the microphone level with my mouth. It was a piece of crap really, but I dispise trying to type with a receiver clenched in that awkward cocked-shoulder-and-sideways-head-vicegrip. With the headset on, I tapped the blinking amber 'phone' button and sank further into my chair, drawing in a sharp in-take of breath for that sickly sweet voice.\n\n\"Good afternoon you're through to U-Wish, this is Steve speaking, how can I help?\" I spoke through bared teeth. We're told to smile while we talk, apparently it makes us sound more approachable. \n\n\"Hi,\" came the awkward response; male, quavering, hint of adolescence \"I recently rubbed a lamp-\" \n\n\"Okay sir, please tell me the nature of your wish and what you are unhappy with?\"\n\n\"I, well, so I rubbed the lamp right and a Genie came out, proper Alladin looking guy too,\" the caller started. Fuck! What is it with people and giving their life stories? I've heard it all before mate, I don't need to hear it again. I peeked over my shoulder to see Mark spinning on his chair, headset on and head rolling back as he listened to a similar call. As he span I raised a finger and mimed the recoil of a gunshot. He clutched his heart and had a silent seizure of pain, twitching ever slower in his imagined death throes while an indescript voice nattered in his ear.\n\n\"-So I wished for-\" Oh shit, here we go, \"whatever I touched to turn into pure gold.\"\n\n\"A unique choice sir\" I remarked as I rubbed my forehead into my palm, already knowing where this was going.\n\n\"Yeah, right?\" He sounded almost pleased with himself.\n\nNo kid, this isn't a conversation. \"So how can I help?\" I prompted him.\n\n\"Well the thing is, all my clothes are gold?\" I nodded. Naturally.\n\n\"I see\"\n\n\"Well, why?\"\n\nI blinked. Surely it's ovbious? \"Well, you wished to turn anything you touched into gold, correct?\"\n\n\"Yeah, but-\" he started.\n\n\"So your wish was granted\"\n\nI heard an aggravated sigh from the other end and grinned. I could almost feel the frustration through the headset. \"Right I get that,\" he started, \"But this isn't what I wanted. I thought it'd be like, fingertips or hand touches or something\"\n\n\"Then why did you not ask for what you wanted?\" I was toying with him now: I knew the answer, I was just waiting for him to admit it.\n\n\"Cus' I didn't know he'd be so fucking literal about it!\" There it is - Goldisocks didn't think.\n\n\"I'm sorry sir, please refrain from extreme language or I will terminate this call\" Even when putting customers in their place, I have to be stupidly nice about it.\n\n\"Sorry, I'm just annoyed\"\n\n\"I can imagine that is a difficult situation sir. So how can I help?\"\n\n\"Well, can you undo it?\" he asked, somewhat impatiently. Right, because it's my fault your there.\n\n\"I'm afraid not sir\"\n\n\"What? Why not?\"\n\nCome on! \"I'm not a Genie\" I have to spell this out to a hundred people a day. The lamps need to come with a guide or something, this is the 21st Century even IKEA are doing pictionary instructions.\n\n\"Well, can't you get one to un-wish it?\"\n\n\"Unfortunately, a wish cannot interfer with another wish due to copyright infringement and intellectual property laws.. and Genie magic\"\n\n\"What-\"\n\n\"Genies are very protective of their granted wishes, they protect their work in every way possible\"\n\n\"But I'm stuck!\" the caller protested. I could just imagine it too, some idiot kid frozen in place, his frame wrapped in a gleaming gold hoodie and jeans, struggling for freedom. Wait a minute. I hit the speaker button and threw a pencil behind me to get Mark's attention. I heard a quiet whistle from behind me, signalling his attention.\n\n\"Sir, please forgive the curiosity, but how are you calling Customer Service if you are stuck in place by pure gold clothes?\" I asked politely, doing my utmost to bury the small contractions in my stomach from a building, repressed laughter.\n\n\"Well, I'm not. I've been standing here for hours.\"\n\n\"Okay but-\"\n\n\"I made the wish in town when I bought the lamp. I was asking people to help but they all think I'm a street performer - They keep dropping change in front of me!\" I had to cup my mouth with a hand, lest a gaffaw escaped. \"Like, twelve pounds in loose change by my feet\" No, no no stop please.\n\n\"A nice gal, Kirsty her name is, offered to call the number on the bottom of the lamp-\"\n\n\"-Hey there\" came a second voice, a cheery female, from the other end of the line. \n\n\"She's holding the phone for me too. She put mine to my ear first and it turned gold\" Oh God! I'm going to burst!\n\n\"And I'm in dire need of a piss\" I heard a thump and looked behind me: Mark had dropped from his chair and was on the floor, one hand over his reddening face and the other wrapped around his stomach as he roared with a muted laughter.\n\n\"So, yeah, you need to help me with this.\" I waved my hands rapidly, stifling the jollies so I could respond.\n\n\"Right, okay\" I managed, \"Best thing to do is rub the lamp again. Genies will listen to reversal petitions for 12 hours after the wish was made\"\n\n\"Oh that's great. Kirsty can you-\"\n\n\"- Please be aware though, we cannot guarantee a reversal, the verdict rests with the Genie.\"\n\n\"Yeah yeah that's fine, thanks!\" The line clicked dead. I tore the headset off and threw it at my desk with a howl of laughter, finally able to expel my pent up reaction. Mark hoisted himself onto his chair, breathing heavily as he cooled himself off.\n\n\"Fucking Genies man, they are twisted\" he croaked hoarsely as he reclined in his chair and wiped at his cheeks for the tears that had accrued. I nodded in agreement, exhaling as the internal shudders died down. Heavy footsteps sounded from down the sparsely occupied office and in a few short moments Aiden's head popped up above the partition surrounding my desk.\n\n\"Hey, guess what?\" he asked eagerly, grinning from ear to ear.\n\n\"Go on\" Mark took the bait. I leaned in eagerly, keen for more.\n\n\"So just had a lass on the phone right, complaining about her wish.\" Mark and I nodded in unison. \"She says 'Well I'm super self conscious so I asked him for the best rack in the world' right?\"\n\nMy hand unconsciously moved toward my face in anticipation. I could already feel my mouth pulling itself into a grin.\n\n\"So he grants the wish and tells her to go home. She gets in and there's a brand spanking new, self-drying plate rack next to her sink!\"\n\nI busted a kidney to that one.\n\n"
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"1478882698",
"1478900714"
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[WP]You dumped all of your stat points into charisma hoping everyone would like you. Well they do and have formed the newest cult around you and made you their leader. This was not what you were going for. | 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",
"\"Praise to the lord!\" I hear them say,\n\nAs they begin a brand-new day,\n\nI can not walk away from this,\n\nI see no exits in my way.\n\n \n\nI never meant for this to be,\n\nAt fault is my stupidity,\n\nI never should have rolled those dice,\n\nAnd ended with divinity.\n\n \n\nCharm was what I strived to gain,\n\nIt left me with unwanted fame,\n\nMy life is but a burden now,\n\nAs everybody knows my name.\n\n \n\nMy followers all think me great,\n\nPerhaps I'll turn their love to hate,\n\nFor death is now my one desire,\n\nI choose to disregard my fate.\n\n*****\n\n*Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening* by *Robert Frost* was the inspiration for the poem's rhyme and structure.\n\n"
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1,
3
] | [
"1478891944",
"1478892962"
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[deleted] | [WP] A horror story that includes all of the characters from Scooby Doo | 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",
"“Mr. Peters!” The gang gasped. \n\n\nMr. Peters didn’t look mad, or surprised like the usual suspects. He looked afraid and sad. \n\n\n“Children. I tricked you into following me to get you away from the castle.” He exhaled a bit, tired but relieved. “The children aren’t just missing. They’re dead. Murdered and butchered in that building’s basement. Sheriff Farley is part of it. He’s the villain’s willing servant. He’s a monster too.”\n\n\nThe gang just stood there, stunned. No unmasked confession, this time. Should they believe this twist of a story?\n\n\nScooby and Shaggy didn’t waste a breath “Well OK guess we should get back to the machine now, bye!” Shaggy blurted, his voice trembling and shrill. Scooby and Shaggy were already moon-walking backwards.\n\n\nFred stepped forward. “We’re not buying it this time Mister Peter’s!” \n\n\n“YOU DON”T HAVE TO BUY IT!” Mr. Peters was suddenly at the end of his patience. “GO HOME. DO NOT GO IN THE CASTLE.”\n\n\nDaphne started to tear up. Fred felt small now. Mr. Peters was a ‘Barney Fife’ like character earlier. Now a light shined in him. There was power in his voice. He had saved the kids. They needed to listen.\n\n\n“Run” he said, defeated now.\n\n\nFred turned and looked down the valley at the castle: misty, dark, everything you’d want in a vile dark place.\n\n\n“No, Mr. Peters. Those kids are alive. We’re going to rescue them. And you’re going to jail! Tie him up Velma. Put him in the van, for now.”\n\n\nVelma tied up Mr. Peters, who was sadly resigned to his, and the kids’ fate now. Shaggy and Scooby needed to use the van in private for the better part of half an hour, but emerged re-invigorated and ready for the trek to the castle, apparently having forgotten the dangers explained earlier. \n\n\n“Ok, gang.” Fred mustered his usual super-natural-skeptic confidence. “Velma, grab the flashlight. Daphne, water and energy bars. This could take awhile. Scooby …” Scooby was asleep on top of Shaggy. Fred gave them a sharp nudge with his loafer. “Can you be serious for five minutes?!”\n\n\nWithin a few minutes the Mystery Crew made their way earnestly down the path towards the castle. Before long they were in a dark and misty forest. Fred wasn’t entirely sure they were on the right course and an hour or so later, was resigned to the fact that they were lost. The path had gotten narrower and then, just, disappeared. On turning around, it was simply gone. Just trees and yellow leaves and gray stones, now, in every direction.\n\n\n“Great, man. Like, where are we?” said Shaggy from behind Scooby, who was bear-hugging Shaggy.\n\n\nFred paused for a moment. It had gotten cloudy now. No stars. “Lets keep going.”\n\n\nThey had set out at about 9 pm. Fred looked at his watch. It had stopped at 11:59. It wasn’t working. Velma and Daphne were walking and holding each other. Daphne wasn’t dressed for walking in the woods at night on this fall evening.\n\n\nThen they stumbled upon a child’s tennis shoe. Untied, cast aside, seemingly. Velma went to investigate it for clues. Inside, there was a sock and what looked like a ham bone, a bit bloody, and moist. Then, Velma back pedaled and squeeled sharply. There was a foot in this shoe! \n\n\nFred rushed to catch Velma before she fell back. “What ... what’s the matter?!” \n\n\n“Fred, there’s a human foot in that shoe! Mr. Peters was right!!”\n\n\nDaphne started to cry again. Shaggy and Scooby weren’t their goofy selves anymore , now stone sober. The gang realized they were in real danger.\n"
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1,
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"1478919024",
"1478925017"
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[WP] You find out one day that whenever you sneeze, you turn into the opposite gender. | 54 | [
"\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",
"Disclaimer: This is on mobile. \n\n\"Nooooooooo! No no no no no nooooooooooo! She's going to be here and I DON'T HAVE MY MANHOOD ANYMORE!?\" Max screams. He then quickly turns around. His thoughts are running rampant through his mind. \n\n\nWho said that? Oh wait, yeah, THAT WAS ME! It's kinda hard for me to listen to myself when my voice goes three octaves higher. Are you serious? This cannot be the most worst possible friggin goddamn motherf'in time for weird bullshit to happen. Okay, okay. Let's think Max, how and when could this had happen. \n\nSo, let's think. Alright so I sneezed last week so no then. Samantha from HR tore her pepper packet poorly the about two days ago so not since then. Wait why did she even have pepper, she had a salad for lunchNEVERMIND THAT. What about last night at the Halloween party? Wait. Are you kidding me? That's so fucking cliché. Whatever, let's think further cause I can't think of any other time. \n\nNow that I think about it, who woulda thought that crazy uptight company knew how to party. I've been working there for only 3 months and the accounting department invited me to their department party, thanks Robby. I still can't believe how fast he saw that I started to like Kim. Then again who doesn't. Her sleek black hair, slim but fit legs, the way she accentuates her slightly squinty eyes, and the ways she presents herself God! What a woman. A woman WHO'S GONNA FIND ME AS A WOMAN IF I DON'T FOCUS. Goddamit Max focus! Alright so I went into the accounting building with Robby cause it was departmental. The place was decked out to the brim with decorations. Everyone was at least wearing something along the lines of devil masks or cat ears or funny masks and all. Everyone was clearly more focused on the booze that night. And how they got that many drinks in the workplace I'll never know. Shit, getting off track. Okay, so I walked in with Robby, we went straight to the drinks, and got wasted immediately. ...fuck. Great start to retracing my steps. \n\nOkay so Robby and I got fucking plastered. Then... then... cmon brain remember. Right! Robby saw, uh, Jessica and ran off to try and score. Right! That asshole left me alone in a completely different department where I knew no one except for Kim, and I've only had small talk with her so no one. Okay, okay. So I was left alone and just stood near the drinks while everyone was mingling. Then a cute woman started to talk to me. It might've been the booze but she was looking pretty hot in that witch outfit. Wait, witch outfit... Goddamit no way.\n\nWe started talking I remember that much. We talked for quite a bit, laughed a little, and then she tried to kiss ME THAT'S RIGHT! That little minx tried to kiss me and somehow my brain overtook my dick and denied her. Yeah... yeah that's right! And when she tried again and actually got tongue in me I pulled her away! Thank you college for teaching me the importance of consent. She looked at me, smiled, and then she started mumbling something. What did she say? Goddamit what did she say!? I think it I heard; something something with please, something something a sneeze. THATS IT. THAT WHORE PROBABLY CURSED ME. \n\nDid anything else happened after that? That's right! That witch walked away quick probably mad and that's when Kim came up to talk to me. We started to talk about how that wasn't cool, consent, blah blah blah, and she asked if we could go out today and I said sure! Okay, so that's how I got a call from Kim confirming our date tonight. ...Aw man, I thought I was the one who did the asking. Oh well at least it's happening. But it probably won't go well considering I'M A WOMAN RIGHT NOW. And considering how fucking cliché this is and it's been hours since she called, she'll probably be here within seconds. \n\n*doorbell rings* \n\nYup! Goddamit goddamit goddamit!\n\n\nMax, still as a woman with her D sized breasts slight swaying back and forth, walks to the door at a quick pace. \"Goddamit no wonder bras are an invention!\" Still in his date outfit of a plaid blue polo, slightly loose skinny jeans, and his good boxer briefs. Despite all his clothes now too big for his new smaller defined body, he tries to hold them up as he makes his way to the door. \n\n\"Okay if I pretend I'm a sibling, then she'll believe me right?\" Max thought as he stood behind the door. He takes a deep breath, looks through the peephole to confirm if it's Kim and it is, swallows hard, and opens the door. \n\nMax opens the door to find a young Asian woman in a long,fine scarlet woman's overcoat with a black turtleneck underneath. Despite the volume of the coat covering her body, her outline was clearly defined through the thick material. Not to mention that no one could she the bottom half of her outfit, only her long legs in black tights with high heels. Holy fuck, Max thought, if I was a man right now I would have the hardest boner right now. He did, however, feel a slight tingle for a second in his crotch area. \n\nMax stood in awe for a second. Shit, he thought. \"Uh cmon in!\" He opens the door wider to allow Kim to walk through his doorway. Kim smiled and slowly walked in with each click of her heels making their way in to his apartment. With Kim's sexy being inside Max's apartment, he closes the door behind her. \n\n\"Max will be out soon,\" Max himself said, \"he's still getting ready. Man, and girls are supposed to be the ones who take to long to get ready am I right?\" Is this too obvious, Max thought. \n\nKim stares at Max, not only at his eyes, but at his entirely new body. Almost as if she was examining him. She gives one final up and down with Max's body and laughs. What, Max thought. \n\n\"It's okay Max, you don't need to try anymore,\" Kim says with a smirk. \n\n\"Wait,\" Max says confusingly, \"what? WHAT!?\" Before he could say another word, Kim pulls out a pinch of pepper from her pocket and blows it Max's face. Max sneezes with a large amount of force. When he opens his eyes, he feels his clothes being snug on his body. He looks down at his body to find that he now fills his clothes with a bulge in his crotch area. Yup I knew it, Max thought. Relieved but confused, he looks at Kim again. She is still smiling, but this time she is slightly biting her lower lip. Max tries to speak but Kim puts her index finger over his lips. \"It'll be faster if I explain it without any questions,\" Kim says slowly. Max nods his head. \n\n\"I noticed that you took a little liking to me Max.\" Busted, Max thought. \"And I did too. I've seen you around the company's public areas and I started to like you too. But, I'm a bit a freak though. Not to mention a little crazy. You see, I'm bisexual. Not only that I'm like, 6 kinds of Asian. But that isn't that freaky part. I little before the party I wanted to see if you really wanted me, so I asked a friend of mine to be bait to test you. And you passed! I was so happy when you denied her kiss.\"\n\nMax tires to respond, \"but...\"\n\n\"Wait til I'm finished Max. So you denied the kiss and that made me give the signal to her. Thanks to a lot of 'old Asian recipes' and myths, I found out how to create a cursed powder that changes people gender when they sneeze. Only problem is that it has to be administered with one on one saliva, so my friend took the dive, got it in you, and I set up our date. To be honest, I thought I would need to make you sneeze afterwards to see what you look like. But I can see that the results were great.\" \n\nMax's head is full of confusion. So it wasn't the witch, what about the changes in my body, how long will this last, will she do more, how crazy is she... All of these thoughts and more rush through his head, but could only say, \"I, uh, don't know how to feel about this.\" \n\nKim smiles again and walks over to Max's coffee table where his keys and wallet are. \"Well,\" she says \"I told you I'm a freak.\" She then tosses both to Max and he fumbles to catch them. Kim walks to the front door, opens the door, looks at Max, and says, \"Haven't you ever wondered how it feels to be a woman having sex with another woman? Because only a freak would.\" She walks out the door, leaving it open. \n\nMax stares at the door, looks at his keys, and says, \"Well, freaks aren't all bad.\" He follows Kim out his door. \n\n---------------------------------------\nI know the end kinda sounded like the beginning of a porn, but I'm happy with the results. "
] | [
1,
4
] | [
"1478928748",
"1478931037"
] | |
[WP] Bear Grylls has just been teleported to a uknown planet. Now he has to survive. | 40 | [
"\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 conscious thought that slipped into his mind was that it was hot. It was hot and there was a distinctive dull thumping against his left cortex. His eyes were sealed shut by some kind of crusty lining and the sound of his laboured breathing filled the silence. Grylls took a moment to pause, steadying his panting in an attempt to gather what the hell just happened; Etheridge (his cameraman) fell into a ditch, Grylls climbed down after him, a glint of silver in the corner of his eye and then… nothing. And then- this.\n\nWhen the man finally pried his eyes open, plucking out a lash or two, he became distinctly aware of the gelatinous substance he’d been leaning against. He’d been lying on a russet cocktail of coagulated blood, the metallic scent told him so, “Dan?” the weak raspy sound of his voice surprised him, “Mark, Nick? What’s going on?” No reply.\n\nGrylls turned and analysed his surroundings. If not for the glowing, crystalline gems affixed to the walls, he’d have thought he was in an ordinary cave in the Sahara. The rough sand clung to his bloodied forearms as he pulled himself upward to stand- legs felt like inanimate lead blocks and it took all the upper body strength he had to get upright, slouching against the hot cave wall. “Nick!” he called, “I’m not laughing, you bastard! Get out here!”\n\nPerhaps they’d thought it funny to dump him in the middle of the Sahara to start ‘Survivor’ with no previous warnings; the crew were probably outside laughing their arses off. He never even got to say goodbye to Shara or his kids. This was a joke. Somebody was definitely getting a slap or two when he got outside. Right then, shelter was paramount- and he needed to discern a water source. Grylls gathered his bearings and tracked down the cave entrance, stepping outside into the darkness.\n\nHe was not in the Sahara desert.\n\nAnd he was not filming for the show.\n\nThe landscape was completely barren and bizarre save for the shredded chunks of meat littering the sand. A stick-thin, tall creature jerked about as it crunched down on Nick’s horrified face. With a sickening pop, its long appendages gouged out his eye. Grylls stepped backwards slowly; he had to get back into the cave before that thing-\n\nIts neck jerked backward and oh god-\n",
"\"Look, Buuuuuuearp Grylls! I don't have time for you to wrap your British walnut around everything! Just help me get some of this mega-juice.\" \nThe survivalist looked uneasy and very out of place. His three day beard and messed up hair and perplexed look was all due to him suddenly falling into this world next to this alcoholic grandfather who was not interested in surviving the wandering monsters lumbering around, but on this juice he was ranting about. Finally his training kicked in. \n\"Look, uhhhh man, we have got to fix a shelter or seek refuge somewhere. Who knows what's out here! I'll gather some sticks-\" \n\"That's planning for failure, Grylls. Even dumber than regular planning.\" *chugs* \n\"Please tell me there's water in that flask. You know the first 36 hours in a foreign land are the most crucial! We have to conserve our fluids and watch out for these things lumbering around! This is not safe at all!\" \nThe skinny man kept walking, lab coat trailing. Grylls followed behind, intent on trying to reason with him. \n\"Could be worse. We could be trapped on cob planet. But it doesn't matter because look! There it is! The mega-river! With the mega-juice in it!\" Grylls stopped for a moment to absorb what was going on. \n\"Look uhhh\" \n\"Rick.\" \n\"Look, Rick, I think we need to work togethuh to get out of here! Maybe if we can find the portal we came here from we can get out of here! Back when I was in paratrooper school-\" \n\"Not a place for-\" \n\"How to make shelter, defend ourselves, get food-\" \n\"The portal gun to take us back to our dimension is out of battery.\" \n\"This could be a very bad situation-\" \n\"So well have to go through inter-dimensional customs.\" \n\"Look you obviously know how to navigate this world better than I do, but my main concern is getting home in one piece.\" Grylls' British-accented monologue put an end to the overlapping argument. Rick was still walking, getting closer to the yellow river winding its way through the purple world. The liquid in it reminded Grylls of something, but he couldn't think of what. \nRick stopped at the bank of the foamy river. \n\"Buuuuurrrrppppp Ok Mor- uhhhh Grylls, this juice is super valuable for my research. But it isn't allowed in dimension C-137, where we're from. Soooo... to get by customs I'm gonna need you to do me a real favor.\" \n\"Wait were in a different dimension? How is that possible? How did I get here? Look Rick, I don't know who is in charge of space kidnappings or whatever, but the queen will not be happy about this. You need to explain something now or else-\"\n\"Ok fine. Just help me get this juice past customs and we'll get home.\" \n\"Are you serious? This is ridiculous! Where even are we right now!?\" \nRick checked his watch, annoyed at the delay. \"Looks like we're in dimension P-137. Look around. Everything you see is P-137. This is all P.\" \n\"Look, Rick, I don't know if this is a good plan-\" \n\"Look, Grylls, we have to get past customs! I need you to drink some P-137! I need you to drink some P! Do it for the Queen!\" \nRick's hands were on his shoulders, shaking him back and forth and yelling in his face. The bearded Britishman wiped vodka flavored spittle from his forehead and looked at the river full of yellow foamy liquid, steaming and swirling. He licked his lips and realized he hadn't had anything to drink in 3 days. The rest is history. "
] | [
1,
2,
12
] | [
"1478961230",
"1478968030",
"1478963033"
] | |
[WP] It is the far future and technology has prospered. Nanobots have been released into the atmosphere and those who have the knowledge to control them have gained near god-like power. | 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",
"Kilgor's Respite had once been a thriving, though small community, until Deathseeker All-Consuming Entropy found and despoiled the town. A novice Deathseeker, All-Consuming Entropy was still several magnitudes of power above the local law enforcement, his mastery of the Winds of Magic making him a living engine of destruction and death. The town fell in a matter of minutes, the Lawbringers torn apart and rendered into carbon and hydrogen on the molecular level. The citizens of the town tried to fight back, but none could stand up to a Deathseeker in direct combat. Master of Entropy and Death magic, Deathseekers could tear a person down into base elements with little more then the proper gesture, or turn a fertile field into ash with a wave of a hand. Even an novice could kill dozens of men in a fair fight before being felled by Burnout or Drain.\n\n\nOf course, All-Consuming Entropy might have been above mere mortals, but he was outmatched by a fully trained mage or shaman. He had been fleeing from such a person for weeks now, always just one step ahead of Seeker Kain, a full blooded Seeker Shaman that had been hunting the rouge Deathseeker ever since All-Consuming Entropy earned the attention of the Seekers Guild. Kain was a veteran shaman, an old man by Grey Wastes standards, at near sixty years old. He'd been a Seeker for almost four decades, and despite his age, his magic kept him young and spry. All-Consuming Entropy had slipped out of his Guild Hall and pillaged a trade caravan, and ever since, Kain had been chasing the teenager throughout the Grey and Black Wastes. The teenager was smarter then his age would have led Kain to believe, and so the two had danced and dueled for weeks.\n\n\nUntil All-Consuming Entropy took out Kilgor's Respite and slowed himself down enough for Kain to catch up to him that is. The teenager may have been a demigod of magical power, but he was still a mortal human under the robes and Deathseeker training. He'd gone for weeks without proper sleep or rest, his belly was empty and his throat dry from lack of water. He needed a meal, a safe place to rest and something to drink. It was his hope that he could rest for a few hours at least before he had to move on. But a few hours turned into a full night, the teenagers tired bones not letting him rise from his torpor and giving Kain the time needed to find the teenager. In the predawn hours, the Deathseeker was risen from his slumber by the tell-tale tingle of static electricity that followed all Shamans and Mages. It rattled teeth and bones, made hair stand on edge and let All-Consuming Entropy know he was dangerously close to the Seeker who was trying to kill him.\n\nThe teenager put his boots on quickly and hurried out of the house, dashing out into the chilly desert night, the pale glow of the half moon giving him enough light to see where he was going...and enough light for the spirits of Kain to find their prey. \n\nAs All-Consuming Entropy started running into the desert, panic prodding his tired bones to move as fast as possible, he heard the screech of a hunter-hawk pierce the silence of the desert night. Kain was upon the Deathseeker! The sickly green spirit tore down from on high, finding the Deathseeker and dive bombing the teenager. Before All-Consuming Entropy could even see where the hunter-hawk was coming from, he felt razor sharp claws tear into his shoulder as the spirit tore a chunk out of his arm and keep going, cawing and screeching with a mechanical voice. Blood poured from the wound, staining the sand red as All-Consuming Entropy threw bolts of Death magic at the hunter-hawk, trying fruitlessly to hit the fast moving spirit. Soon, other hunter-hawk spirits joined the first, and All-Consuming Entropy found him swarmed by the sickly green spirits.\n\nHe cut his loses and doubled back towards the house, hoping to find cover from the hunter-hawks. Even running as fast as he could he still was pecked and bitten and shredded by the angry spirits, arms and chest and head pouring blood from a dozen separate wounds as he desperately sought cover. He managed to stagger back into the house, slamming the door close and collapsing against the door as the hunter-hawks slammed into walls and windows of the house, eagerly trying to force their way in and tear the Deathseeker apart. Soon though, the hawks broke apart and formed the spirit of an Flesh Totem, a ten foot tall hulking monster of a spirit that started punching a hole right through the wall of the house. The mana that shaped the hunter-hawks had reformed into a new shape at the behest of Kain and his magic and soon had torn into the building All-Consuming Entropy was hiding in. \n\nThe Flesh Totem absorbed the bolts and blasts of Death magic with grunts and robotic cries of pain as the spirit tore the house apart, and eventually, grabbed All-Consuming Entropy and pulled the Deathseeker out of the house, tossing the bloody teenager into the sand of the Grey Wastes. The Flesh Totem was not gentle, and several of All-Consuming Entropy's ribs were shattered like glass, along with the teenagers spine and legs, bones squeezed and snapped like twigs by the hulking spirit. And again, the mana broke apart and streaked across the sky, finding Kain and his staff as the Seeker followed the hawks that he had sent out to hunt the rouge mage.\n\nIt took several minutes for the Seeker to find All-Consuming Entropy, and while the mage had tried to crawl away into the desert, with several of his broken bones, the teen had no chance to escape. He tried to muster the will to hurl a desperate bolt at his pursuer, but Kain effortlessly deflected the bolt with a swing of his massive metal staff. The grey haired shaman smiled at his battered and beaten target, a dead-eyed and joyless smile, a gesture of victory more then mirth.\n\nA series of gestures and chanted words of power, and the mana formed into a third shape. Several small humanoids, the size of children, descended on the Deathseeker and pulled the teenager apart, drawing and quartering the Deathseeker with mechanical ease. The boys screams filled the air, the once silent town now alive with the noise of torture and death as Kain paid the rouge mage back for all the pain All-Consuming Entropy had caused. Eventually though, the teen passed out from pain and blood loss, and Kain ordered his spirits to tear the boy apart and kill him. The Beholden complied and tore the Deathseeker apart, ending yet another of Kain's chases, with the Seeker victorious and his prey dead and in pieces. "
] | [
1,
2
] | [
"1478976793",
"1478987138"
] | |
[WP] As a real sorcerer hiding among us, you make a good living being one of the best illusionists. Very seriously you keep every trick subtle and discreet, no one ever suspected a thing. Until now. | 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",
"I keep my tricks simple. I have always kept. Making small props disappear and reappear, using mind control to make a volunteer do what i want in order to make the trick work. Nobody has ever suspected anything and thought I was just a really talented magician.\n\nIt was a normal show in Vegas. A big audience clapping trick after trick. Being a performer has become a routine, but yet still I always focus on my tricks, except for this one time when I let my concentration drift away. I thought the volunteer was just an ordinary crowd member until I found out he is a magician too.\n\nThe guy walks to the stage and I explain him how the trick is going to carry on. I get into the trick and pick up a deck of cards. A little mind control to make him pick a certain card which I let the audience see and think I don't know what the card is. The trick was to make the card he was holding to change while replacing it with another one. With a bit of real magic it's not a problem, except I made a mistake. I changed the card and by an accident made it be a duplicate of another card that was already in the deck. He checks his card and it has changed. I spread the rest of the cards to the table and nobody in the crowd noticed the duplicate except for the volunteer. He memorised the deck while he was picking a card and noticed something was not like it was supposed to be. Rest of the crowd applauded and cheered, but this one guy didn't. I realised my mistake in an instance but it was too late to be fixed.\n\nAfter the show he saw me giving out autographs and came up to me saying the show was great. I know he realised I'm a true magician the way he said: \"That kind of talent would most certainly make even the government interested. I wonder what kind of ace you've got in your sleeve.\"\n\n\n\n\nPlease be merciful, this is my first story ever. Sorry for any grammatical errors I might have made, I'm also on my phone, enjoy!"
] | [
1,
2
] | [
"1479059604",
"1479067796"
] | |
[WP]: Ten years after the collapse of a mine, an underground pocket of air is discovered at the site. Within are 15 miners who have miraculously survived being trapped for a decade. A contact is established. They do not want to be rescued. | 64 | [
"\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",
"Ten years, lonely, down below, \nthe world has passed them by. \nThe things they faced, we'll never know, \nFor they seem rather shy. \n\nWe sent a walkie underground- \nit finished its descent. \nThe talkie clicked on, made a sound- \n\"Now *who's* the President?\"",
"\"What in God's name happened down there...\"\n\nIt was a town tragedy, the mine. No one spoke about it. Too many spouses were lost. Too many children. My own husband never came back. So we all tried to forget about it, just move on and try to live life without thinking about the sour ending to an expedition that could have made many a family rich. At least, for a while. Not every person in this town is respectable, However, and it was hard to move on with how much superstitious nonsense rose up.\n\nIt was especially difficult to ignore now, though, with the news that had every pair of eyes glued to the screen. People have claimed the mine cursed every tunnel around it, every lost miner has been captured, on and on. I thought it was complete trash. Henry was dead. Plenty of people fell for it though, and another expedition was set to search 'for the bodies.' They had 10 years to search for bodies, this was to find something that didn't exist.\n\nExcept, it did.\n\nI put my hand over my mouth, gently rubbing the right side of my lips. That's where Henry had a scar. I used to feel it as I kissed him. It was such a defining feature that I memorized how it looked exactly. \n\nOn the screen, a short blip of footage is being played again and again. I can feel panic rise as a reporter urges people to stay safe. There was something in the mine. Something that wasn't human. An interview is done with the volunteers, the ones who are willing to relive their experiences in front of everyone. A small clip of something chasing after a volunteer, then veering away as light is shone on it. There's shouting after it, but it's gone. Replayed. Chasing, and fleeing. Chasing and fleeing. Gone again and again. I focus on the clip more than the words coming out of the mouth of the volunteer, because I see it.\n\nA long, jagged scar, attached to the right side of the most grotesque thing I've seen in my life."
] | [
1,
5,
26
] | [
"1479071119",
"1479118214",
"1479076032"
] | |
[removed] | [WP] "They're made of cake." "Cake?" Take a copypasta or short story, but make it funnier by changing a certain aspect of the story. | 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\nAll work must be the writers own - this is going to lead to stories which are mainly reposted stories with small tweaks. \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/5cw4k5/wp_theyre_made_of_cake_cake_take_a_copypasta_or/%0A%0A)"
] | [
1,
1
] | [
"1479132845",
"1479133928"
] |
[WP] You're sitting on the toilet. As you pull down the toilet paper, a secret trap door opens just in front of your legs. | 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",
"Jones had to go back to his office to get his phone. He only used it to listen music and as an alarm, but the simple man's holy chair was worth nothing without the almighty internet compressed into a small device. \"Smashed Obama and his whole family against the porcelain, after drinking coffee.\" He wrote to the telegram group 'Club Tropica'. Vitalijh, answered in the blink of a second: \"I only have to send some fax in the morning if I had breakfast, which means never.\" Timo, the third in the group didn't read the previous messages and just sent a picture of his new watch. Upon enlarging the picture Jones saw Timo's penis saying 'hi' at the bottom. All this stupidity was too much for Jones, who dropped his phone laughing. It was a cheap smartphone, worth only $80 with a flashing orange cover. The bright salmonlike-color was easy to spot, but it was gone. He bent over to look below the wall, checking both sides. Only then he noticed that the black spot between his legs weren't tiles, but a hole. 1metre large and 2 metres long. Jones formed a ball out of toilet paper and tossed it inside. The ball unfolded and glided down the hole with the beauty of falling autumn leaves. He cleaned his butt, flushed the toilet, stuffed his underwear with toilet paper and threw it down as well. He never liked wearing underwear. At home, both he and his wife were mostly naked. \n\nA spotlight seemed to shine from below at his underwear as it unfolded with the toilet paper and glided into nothingness. Jones was hypnotized and the urge to 'fall' into the hole naked and in the fetus-position overcome him.\n\nA warm wind uncurled his arms and legs in slow motion. He couldn't force them in any direction. The wind took over his body. Only his dong was not affected. He managed to glimpse at it for a split-second before getting flashed by the same light that illuminated his underwear. \n\nHe closed his eyes and opened them again to find out tgat he was wearing a wingsuit; gliding in formation with flying squirrels. The maple trees below had the color of every orange and reddish tone he saw at last year's burning man. They formed an alley with a crystal clear river in between.\n\nJones made a sharp left turn to fly through the crack amid two clouds. The whole formation followed him suit. He was amazed at how the distance between the squirrels didn't even change an inch. \n\nAgent Skippy squeaked behind him: \"Commander Jones, we lost contact to Area 51. Please return to Base.\" Jones interchanged looks between the squirrels and the mountains in front of them. The river and maple trees didn't end at the mountain's foot, instead they spread upward and turned into a forest of what looked like brown bamboo with big leaves. \"Agent Skippy to commander Jones, agent Skippy to commander Jones. We are entering unknown territory. Please return to Area51.\" \n\nJones realized that the brown bamboo was in fact not bamboo and headed straight to it, with increasing speed and the smile of a kid, who received a Nintendo64 for christmas. \"Here commander Jones. My friends, believe me, Today you will bust more than just a nut.\" The squeaking became louder and Jones couldn't understand what everyone was saying. _This is the moment to see how disciplined they are._ He performed a double backflip and bowed to the hazelnut forest. \"Congratulations fellow agents. Your flying and landing was on point today.\"\n\n\n___________________________\n\nHope it's not too NSFW-ish. \n\nE: typos + grammar\n\n\n"
] | [
1,
2
] | [
"1479150053",
"1479163538"
] | |
[removed] | [WP] New political parties are created based on similar voting patterns. You've just turned 18. | 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\nWe are not currently allowing political prompts (see rule #4) as the aim of the sub is to encourage people to write and political prompts are leading to arguments instead of stories. \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/5cy4qt/wp_new_political_parties_are_created_based_on/%0A%0A)"
] | [
1,
1
] | [
"1479154865",
"1479155009"
] |
[removed] | [WP] You see a number above everyone's head but you never bothered to work out what they all mean. Time to find out. | 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\n[Copy-cat](http://i.imgur.com/38FjDgW.gifv) 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\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/5cyde1/wp_you_see_a_number_above_everyones_head_but_you/%0A%0A)",
"\"It's got to mean something right?\" I think in class. Everyone I've ever met has had a number above their head. I could see them even when I was small. I just, thought it was natural. Thought everyone could. Apparently not. Any time I brought it up to anybody, they'd think I was crazy. Guess it was only me. \n\nI never bothered to understand what they meant. Everyone had a different number, but on rare occasions some were the same. But they all had something in common:\n\nThe numbers would decrease randomly.\n\nWhen I got home, I immediately entered the bathroom and looked into the mirror. Sure enough, the number above my head was 42. 1 less then last time. I celebrated my birthday yesterday. My parents had shorter numbers though. I didn't know what it meant, but over the years it's been decreasing and I can't help but feel uneasy about it all.\n\nI decided to conduct an experiment. \n\nAs I said before: Everyone's numbers would decrease randomly. But there was one exception. There was a student in my class; A senior, who I heard does drugs, drinks alcohol and etc. His number was the freakiest. It would change every day. But one day, before his number could reach 0, his number shot up to a higher amount. Afterwards, it started decreasing again. But this time, even faster than it did before. I didn't know what to make of it. So I decided I would watch him. See what happens when that number hits 0. If it ever does. \n\nI stood by a wall, pretending to fiddle around with my phone as the senior strolled across the sidewalk. I followed him, and when he would turn around, I would quickly look back at my phone. He didn't know me. So he didn't suspect a thing. His number was at 15.\n\nHis number was at 3 now\n\nI'm currently watching him from a rooftop while he smuggles with some people for some drugs. I didn't question it, I was only curious about one thing after all. But I couldn't help but notice something being different about this meeting. The senior seemed tense. Next thing I know, I hear yelling. The Dealer's friends start to surround the senior, and I look down for a closer look. \n\nHis number was 1. \n\nThen the dealer pulls out a gun. \n\nI didn't know what to do at this point. I couldn't go down there to help. They'd probably just shoot me too. This deal just got a little havoc. The senior got down on his knees, begging the Dealer not to shoot. Then his number shot back up to 60. I'm sorry, what?\n\nThen it hit 59. Then 58. Then 57. Why didn't I notice before? The numbers....They..\n\nThe senior was now screaming while the Dealer's friends held him down. 10. Shit, what'll I do?! \n\nThe Dealer pointed the gun toward the mans face, and he looked up at me. His stare. It was.....That was the longest 10 seconds of my life. \n\nHis number turned red, and illuminated a glowing red 0.\n\nThe Dealer shot.\n\n________________________________________________________\n\nPrompts like these really give me the motivation to write! Plz give me tips! (If you're wondering why the numbers shot up randomly, here's a little ELI5: The numbers shot up because it changes based on how many years, months, days, minutes, and seconds someone has to live. The Seniors number was at 1. But it was at 1 minute. It then shot back up to 60. Because he had 60 seconds to live.\n\nCheers! "
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"1479157300",
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[WP] You're the trusted angel God left in charge for 2016 while he went on vacation. He's returned early and you have some explaining to do. | 393 | [
"\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",
"\"Mike! Michael! I'm back from Eden. So... how's my favourite planet doing?\"\n\n12 words. That's all it took to get me to wet my robes.\n\n\"Everything's fine for the most part. A few minor disasters here and there but nothing you can't solve your almightiness. So, how was Eden? I here the apples there are so good it's a si--\" I blurted out, before he caught on.\n\n\"Wait. What do you mean a few minor disasters? My omniscience is sending me mixed signals. Something about an orange man in a place of power... a great wind carrying the name of Matthew... and... something about Willy Wonka?\" he replied innocently. I knew I had some serious explaining to do. This was God. He would know if I was lying so I might as well tell the truth. 'Here we go' I thought to myself.\n\n\"Okay, look G.D. , I just want you to know that it was mostly an accident, but Lucifer drove a hard bargain and I really thought I was helping the world. I'm sorry.\" I said in fear, fear that only an almighty boss can strike into your heart.\n\nGod replied irritated yet controled. \"Lucifer? I should have known. Hell, you should've known. Well. cut the crap. Give it to me straight. What'd he sell you?\"\n\nI calmed down and told him \"A new Red Hot Chili Peppers Album, a new Green Day album, Batman V Superman, Captain America Civil War, said he'd make America Great Again and stop immigration. He gave Leonardo DiCaprio the Oscar.\"\n\n\"Damn, that sounds pretty awesome. Good for Leo, I'm proud of him.\" he admitted. \"So, what did he want in return?\"\n\n\"To kill a few people, hurricane rights and he wanted to choose the US election candidates. I thought to myself that was a badass deal. Dudes die every now and then anyway and even if he chooses 2 psycho people as candidates I imagined the people would choose the more reliable one.\"\n\n\"I mean, it's understandable, but what did he do for real?\"\n\n\"Well, you know how he wanted the rights to kill a few people? Apparently he meant people like David Bowie and Prince.\"\n\n\"No. Not them. Did you get them a good place in heaven?\"\n\n\"We both know the rules on that, sir. They were just... too sexually extreme. They didn't fit the qualifications. I'm so sorry.\"\n\n\"Me-Fuckin'-Damnit why does Luci always get the rock stars? It's just unfair y'know? Once in a while can't anybody die who plays something that isn't a harp and hasn't done forbidden stuff?\"\n\n\"Wait. I'm just getting started. You remember the US elections? How I thought humanity was sane? Donald Trump won. I'm paraphrasing here but he says he's gonna do his best to fuck Mexicans. Guess what his campaign slogan is?\"\n\n\"Make America Great Again right?\"\n\n\"Omniscience?\"\n\n\"Nah, I just know how the devil rolls. I'm guessing the great wind named Matthew is a--\"\n\n\"Hurricane. Big ass hurricane Matthew.\"\n\n\"What about Willy Wonka?\"\n\n\"You're gonna hate this. Gene Wilder died. So did Leonard Cohen.\"\n\n\"Hold up. Leonard Cohen? The big L.C? But--\"\n\n\"Yeah, I know our royalties from hallelujah are the only thing that keep this place running aside of the prayers. It's why I couldn't interfere. Satan's deal was for the entire year of 2016, and as awful as the things he's done were they were effective. Do you know how many prayers were sent in after Trump was elected president? Without them we wouldn't have money for a bible, and until the end of this year the deal can't be altered. As you know every new year gives us a new budget with Christmas and Hannukah and the new years resolutions so our budgets should be renewed by 2017.\"\n\n\"You mean we're too broke to save humanity?\"\n\n\"At the moment we're too broke to pay my rent. Hopefully the decline will stop. All this atheism really tightened up our funds. It sucks.\"\n\n\"Well, Mikey, I probably wouldn't believe in me either if I were down there.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry, sir. I really screwed things up.\"\n\n\"Yes you did.\"\n\n\"Well, here's to a good 2017.\"\n\n\"Michael, I just realized something, I returned early, it's still 2016!\"\n\n\"My god!\"\n\n\"Hey, don't write my name in vain! and not in lowercase letters for that matter.\"\n\n\"Boss, according to these calculations...\"\n\n\"Heavens no... the fight is not over... there is still another month. And we're broke! Broke for Christ's sake! How am I gonna buy my son new carpenting tools? That shit ain't cheap!\"\n\n\"With all due respect sir, I think We've got bigger fish to fry...\" I said, as I saw the devil at our doorstep, cackling at the rusted gates as he threw coal at our feet. We knew that the worst was yet to come, because as the devil screamed a hearty \"Fuck you!\" to both of us, the coal... I was horrified. There was not one lone soul excluded this year. We were all domed. They were all...they were all on the naughty list.",
"God sat at his ornately carved desk reading the list of problems that occurred in his absence. He threw down the parchment and glared at the angel sitting across from him. \"Oh my me,\" God said. \"What in my name have you done?! I'm gone a little while only to return to find out that revered and loved celebrities are dropping like flies, unsanctioned natural disasters and absolute chaos in the U.S.!\"\n\nThe angel shrugged, pointed to his head and said \"Hey, don't lay this on me! I had only got up here and gotten my halo when you stumbled up to me, drunk on wine, and demanded I look after things. I haven't even earned my wings yet!\"\n\n\"Anyway,\" the angel continued, \"You have WAY more trusted angels than me. What about Gabriel? I wasn't told how to use the controls! I pressed a button hoping the sun would set. And it did. On Prince, Leonard, Alan and even Bowie! I try to make the oceans calm and BOOM! Tsunami for New Zealand. So don't you try pin this on me.\"\n\n\"Why didn't you ask for help?\" asked God.\n\n\"I did! And everyone ignored me. Saint Peter said he was too busy with the gates. I don't know where Michael was. Probably getting his fingers dirty with that Magdalene girl...\" The angel then sat back in his chair with his arms crossed. \n\nGod sighed. \"What a mess.\"\n\nThe angel leaned forward, \"Look, next time you need to make decisions, don't be drunk. Now, I'm off to the Manger for a glass of wine until this blows over.\"\n\nThe angel stood up and left the room.\n\n",
"God floated back into the control room and looked at the screen. 'hmmm now what is all this about? I thought I told you to not interfere with them. they are old enough to make their own decisions. ' \n\nI looked at the screen and turned my attention to the presence. ' But.'\n\n' No but, they are apparently smarter then you, so change it back. '\n\nI was confused why would he let him win the election and as soon as I said it he pointed at the future predictions. War, disasters, growing hate and panic. Stagnation and in the end doom.\n\n'They are better when they have something to focus on, they always has. Give them a goal and they will work towards it. try to press them down and they will stand up, try to make them hate and they will show you love, try to stop them and they will move. But if you take away hope of change then they will fall down and give up. they will take any change and try to make it better. You just took that away from them. Reset it all back to when he wins. Ohh but I like this one. ' The presence we call God turned to his son. ' I'm really looking forward to the concert tonight. I always liked the original.' \n\nAnd with that they where gone, the room felt so empty and I felt like all joy had drained out of me, then he whispers in my ear. ' dont worry we all make mistakes, that's why we have the reset button'",
"\"I... I... I... can explain!\"\n\n\"What do you have to explain?\" God looked at the archangel Adam, who appeared as little more than a puddle before Him.\n\n\"The humans have apparently all gone mad. Are you not upset with me?\"\n\n\"Not in the slightest,\" God replied as Adam composed himself, \"you know, there's a reason I took this little sabbatical. As bad as it sounds to say, I'd grown tired of watching over the humans. Their faith has steadily decreased for some time and they've angered me in ways I don't expect you to understand.\n\n\"So what brings you back?\"\n\n\"Well, even while away I have heard the stories of this 'Trump' fellow. Hearing about him and seeing what all the other humans have been up to while I was gone got me thinking. I've failed them, I left them perhaps when they need me most, it only makes sense they would be acting out. Not to mention I've felt terribly bored and lonely while I've been gone. As it turns out, being 'God' over nothing isn't such a great way to be after all.\"\n\n\"So you're back for good?\" Adam asked, with palpable hope in his voice.\n\n\"Sure am,\" Jehovah responded confidently. \"Thank you for your service in my absence, you've done an admirable job given the circumstances. Now I only hope I can throw all this back together before this 'climate change' those humans have got going *really* kicks in.\n\n\n\n\n",
"He sat with his head in his hands. One party. One party was all it took for the world to go to shit.\n\nThe elevator angels hadn't really asked to many questions until he asked for Prince. By now, anyone in any mansion in the kingdom knew that he was dead. Humans had always used a phrase to contradict the Lord's power. \"Can God make a rock so big that he can't move it?\" Well, in a similar vein, could he kill something so hard that it died again?\n\nIt could have an answer soon. Soon cosmilogically at least. There was still a month and a half to scrape together something good. He had hoped that Duterte had taken something more away than not cursing but, at this point he was willing to take even the smallest of graces.\n\nIt had all started with David Bowie. Sure it was high profile, but cancer doesn't care. At least it looked like cancer. Humans weren't the wiser, and he had a front liner for the party of the millennia.\n\nHe groaned, pulling on his halo. At this point the stress was making his plumage to get sparse.\n\nExcept Bowie considered it a retirement. Once he got past the pearly gates, he went straight to the mansion for a siesta and wasn't even seen again until April when word of the United States primaries were going around.\n\nHe got up and paced around the room. The cloud-woven cotton felt like it was tightening on his whole body instead of hanging loose like a robe should. His head thundered against the wall, surely sending more than a few bolts down to Earth's surface. He slammed his head again and again.\n\nWhen he had gotten drunk on wisp-ale was one of the bigger mistakes (never mind it happened less than a week after he signed for Bowie's appearance). He promised himself he would never touch it again- but he was only human (or at some point was). He didn't realize the next time he got drunk on it, he'd be signing a requisitions for both Alan Rickman AND Prince. AND PRINCE! He didn't even like Prince!!!\n\nThank the Lord there was someone in Requisitions that knew how to space these things out. He tried to cry a little but sorrow was impossible in the kingdom of heaven. Dread was still allowed because there was the whole \"God-fearing\" thing.\n\nRickman did a small show, but didn't want anything big for his introduction into the eternal lands of respite. By the time Prince got to the gates the party had gone from scheduled to TBD 5 or 6 times and half the guests had gone home.\n\nWhilst he was fighting to keep this party alive Satan (because only Satan could be laughing about it) somehow managed to find the two worst politicians possible to run for the US presidency. God would've LOVED Sanders (even if he already did because of the whole Jewish promise thing) but the Primaries just went so fast while he was ordering the catering (he briefly remembered how he had thought to call up Bobby Flay or something).\n\nThen there were the Earthquakes, Civil war, Star Trek jokes (he finally had decided to beam Scotty up permanently), Gorillas, ISIL, Drought, Humans UNCONVINCING THEMSELVES ABOUT GLOBAL WARMING, the list went on and on and on and on.\n\nSomewhere in here the party had actually gotten a jump start when both Bowie and Rickman had shown up at the same place at the same time. That was about mid-august by Earth schedule.\n\nBut the nail in the coffin had been when he was trying to impress Angela. They had been watching the world series when he decided to make an order for a Cub's win in game 7.\n\nHe screamed. Oh holy feathers on a roasted demon ass crack! That one thing was God's favorite joke. It had been for almost a century now.\n\nThere was still a month and a half before the Lord got back from touring the Andromeda galaxy for the first time this century.\n\nThere came a knock at the door.\n\n\"Michael, I know you're in there. We need to talk.\"",
"I was basking in the eternal sunlight when I heard footsteps. The moment I realized they were his footsteps was the moment I realized I was royally f*cked. As the things I had neglected began rushing through my head, I shot out of my lounging chair and stood erect in front of his highness.\n\n \"H-h-home ea-early?\" I studdered at him, searching him for any sign of what he knew.\n\n \"Jesus couldn't take the Indian Food.\" He responded.\n\n \"It burnt like hellfire goin' through!\" A voice commented from another room. Then the almighty Jesus made his grand entrance. Brilliant. They were both here.\n\n \"How has earth been holding up?\" God asked. \n\n\"W-wonderful, ya know?\" I responded. I was dead the moment he realized a single thing that happened during 2016. \n\nThen he asked: \"Election going smoothly?\"\n\n\"It wasn't too bad; i just--\" I never got to finish. I heard Jesus flipping on the TV, and my life flashed before my eyes. The first thing to be heard were the words \"President-elect Donald Trump\". The second was a cup, falling from the hands of the Lord, onto the floor, and shattering. God shot up from the table before I had a chance to explain. I followed him into the living room as he grabbed the remote from Jesus. The channels got progressively worse, showing everything from bottle flipping, to rambling hillbillies who know that Trump is our new lord and savior. As he flipped through channels, my phone rang. \n\nI struggled to turn it off before the ringtone got to \"pineapple pen...\" Jesus appeared to be rocking out to the catchy tune, but God wasn't amused. \n\n\"Jesus Christ...\" He shot at him\n\n\"Sorry dad,\" He responded. \n\nThen God turned to look at me. \n\n\"You mean you actually gave them freedom of choice?\" He asked.\n\n\"Wasn't I supposed to? \" I replied. \n\n\"Hell no! Humans need guidance. In everything.\" He answered. \"How much did you actually do this year?\" \n\nI knew he could read my mind, so lying was pointless. \"Barely anyth--\"\n\n**\"GOD DAMN YOU\"**\n\n~~~~~~~~~~~~~\n\n\"That would explain a lot...\" Lucifer responded, before handing me my certificate of damnation. \"Anyhow, Enjoy your stay!\""
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[WP] As the greatest knight of the kingdom, you have always dreamed of living a more peaceful life with no fighting. One day you wake up to some older woman yelling you're late for school. | 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",
"(Hope you don't mind if I reply with the second part to this)\n\nI entered my chambers in the King's palace. I looked around at the luxurious interior of my temporary living quarters and nodded in approval. Being the champion of the great kingdom of Norwaldia had its perks.\n\nYet, I felt myself slipping into thoughts more somber on this ordinary day. I walked over to the large bucket of lukewarm water that had been left out for me. A dirty looking sponge lay next to it on the floor.\n\nI took the bracers off my arms and began the drawn out process of cleaning the blood from them. I got through the smaller pieces of armor first; they were easier to clean. Then came the chest piece, the legs, and so on.\n\nBy the time I reached my cot, i was already asleep on my feet.\n\nI dreamt of peace and times where war was not a daily occurrence. Yet, even in imagination, peace was short lived; my dreams were rudely interrupted by a shrill voice, sounding like daggers scraped against a stone pavement.\n\n'Get up Gaylord T. Booker! You're going to be late for school!'\n\nThat was not my name, and what an absurd one at that! I rose from my bed, fury coursing through my veins, determined to give this woman a piece of my mind.\n\nTBC"
] | [
1,
2
] | [
"1479195075",
"1479196076"
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[WP] A hardcore masochist dies and goes to Heaven. However, they really, really want to go to Hell.... | 25 | [
"\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",
"Hamish took one look at the pearly gates and sighed. What had he done to deserve this?\n\nIt'd been a particularly dreary English afternoon when he'd finally gone the whole way. Sitting on his couch he had stared out his apartment window onto the bustling streets below. His eyes were unfocused as his mind wandered aimlessly from thought to thought. Slate grey clouds flooded the sky above, pounding out rain onto the streets below. It ran in rivulets down the glass, making quick evolving patterns. A bit giddy from this unusually intense session, he giggled.\n\nHe looked back down at his forearms, as they drained into the bucket he had at his feet. The skin was a mangled mess of shredded meat and blood. Despite all his care to make sure he'd not spill any he'd still gotten some on the tiles around the bucket in a small smattering of droplets. It would appear that in the brief relief of cutting himself, he'd not paid enough attention to the blood. \n\nAnd that had been enough of a reason for *him*.\n\nSo now, after committing the most cardinal of sins, he'd ended up in heaven. How the hell had this happened? The whole point had been to end up in eternal suffering. Though in truth (and he would never admit this to himself), it was partially to avoid the cleaning up. He **hated** clea- \n\n\"WELCOME TO HELL.\"\n\nThe sentence bashed through his thoughts. The word hell seemed to resonate like the end of a gong being hit. It was a few moments before he responded.\n\nHamish offered timidly, \"Uh... I-uhhh... I'm here about a suicide?\" to nobody in particular.\n\n\"AHH YES. HAMISH ANDERSON. 24 YEARS OLD, STUDIED AT BRIGHTON BEFORE DROPPING OUT TO BECOME AN IT TECHNICIAN AT A LOCAL ALL-GIRLS SCHOOL. FAILED RELATIONSHIP WITH ONE ELAINE YAKOVIC. SUICIDE BY -\"\n\n\"- umm excuse me. I was just making sure I'm in the right place? It looks a lot like heaven, but you just said it was hell, and I must say I'm a bit confused about the whole thing seeing as I only just died...\"\nHamish wasn't sure if he was being heard. \n\nA few more silent moments passed before he worked up the courage to continue. \n\"...I guess what I'm trying to say is that, if this is hell... and I am about to be sent to my eternal punishment... could you - you know - get on with it?\"\n\n\"IMPATIENT ALSO. VERY WELL, HAMISH.\" And with that, the pearly gates parted and Hamish trekked across the clouds.\n\nOnce through the massive imposing gates, Hamish noticed far off in the distance what appeared to be a man seated at a desk. Driven by curiosity, Hamish made it over to the man. As he got nearer he saw the man was bald, wearing a white business shirt and black tie. His face was set in a concentrated frown, as he stared at the monitor. It wasn't until Hamish was a few feet away that he saw the monitor was blank. It was then that the bald man looked up, the frown fading away to a pleasant smile. \n\"Ahh, thank god you're here - the bloody thing won't turn on.\"\n\n\n\n"
] | [
1,
3
] | [
"1479247404",
"1479282908"
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[WP] You are a tech support agent for a galactic services firm specializing on providing uplift to class one civilization services for low tech worlds. It's Friday at 3:45pm and you just answered a call from the little backwater world, earth. | 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",
"\"Good afternoon, you've reached Intelligence Solutions, IT department. My name is EJ-90, how can I help you today?\n\n\"Hi, this is Ted... from Earth?\"\n\n\"Hi Ted, how can I help you today?\"\n\n\"So, the government gave us these IQ enhancers, like, these giant-ass machines? I'm ready to use mine, but I was required to make an account to sign in, and I, uh, forgot my password.\"\n\n\"No problem, I'd be happy to reset the password for your system. I just need a couple details, first. For your Intelligence Uplift system, do you own the CR model or the SW model?\"\n\n\"I'm... not sure?\"\n\n\"Ok, does the containment unit - that is, the area that you stand in - have a diameter width of 2 meters or 15 meters?\"\n\n\"Again, I don't know. I don't have a ruler on me.\"\n\n\"Let me ask this, then: in your model, would you be able to fit a fridge in it? Or a... very, very large fridge?\"\n\n\"I could probably just put a fridge inside that glass-looking area. Am I supposed to put a fridge inside?\"\n\n\"No, that won't be necessary, thank you. Just looking for a reference for size. Now, would you happen to have your 20 digit ID number?\"\n\n\"Yes I do, the missus had me write it down.\"\n\n\"Great, simply put in that number using the number pads on your communications device.\"\n\n...\n\n\"Wonderful! Now, Ted, I can see that you've already received an updated password from four previous password requests. Have you tried inputting that password before?\"\n\n\"Yes, I have.\"\n\n\"And did an error come up on the screen?\"\n\n\"No, it did not.\"\n\n\"Then what appeared on the screen when you input the password?\"\n\n\"Nothing.\"\n\n\"Okay, what information was on the screen as you were entering the password?\"\n\n\"Nothing.\"\n\n\"...Ted, the state that your screen is in now, is it the same as when you were entering your password?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"What is showing on the screen right now?\"\n\n\"Nothing.\"\n\n\"Okay, the next step will be to check the auxiliary energy converter, around the back-\"\n\n\"The what?\"\n\n\"The power cable. It should be connected to a reliabl-\"\n\n\"Oh, I'm waiting to plug that in.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry? I... didn't quite hear you.\"\n\n\"I hadn't plugged that in yet. No sense in suckin' down power for a machine that doesn't work.\"\n\n\"...One moment, please.\"\n\n[easy listening music]"
] | [
1,
32
] | [
"1479249016",
"1479251271"
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[WP] In the year 2187, scientists have found a way for people to transfer, or give others their fears if both people accept. You are paid to take other people's fears. | 97 | [
"\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 leans back in her chair, throwing her dirty combat boots up on the table. It’s not my table, and I know won’t be expected to clean it, but I still wince.\n\n“Alright, here’s what I *don’t* do.” She counts the items off on her black-tipped fingers. “One, heights. I live on the fifth floor, and I don’t need that shit. Two, snakes. I have a ball python. His name is Charles. Three, people. Having social anxiety, with this job? Not gonna fly.” She spreads her arms out to either side. “Other than that, you’re golden. Hit me.”\n\nI glance over at the one-way mirror. I like to imagine the folks behind it are all in lab coats, pens poised above their clipboards, ready to record my response. It makes me feel important.\n\nThat’s how they get you with these experimental procedures. *Take a risk, be a frontrunner! And please sign these forms so your family can’t sue us when you end up brain-dead.*\n\n“You hear me, prima donna?”\n\nI turn to face her, frowning. “I don’t sing.”\n\nShe snorts. “It’s L.A., sweetheart. If you’re not a struggler singer, you’re a struggling actress. And with a face like yours?” She smirks as she places her hands behind her head. “I’d say you’re both.”\n\nI squirm uncomfortably in my chair.\n\n“I’m gonna take a wild guess, sugar tits, and you tell me how close I get. You moved here with a big dream, thought you were gonna take Hollywood by storm. You spent all your cash on that boob job--which is really nice work, by the way--but it’s been a few months, and you got fuckall to show for it. So you come here, sign up for some shady gig to earn a few bucks and hope you don’t end a drooling vegetable at the end of it. How’d I do?”\n\nThe room is dead silent for a long moment before I tell her, “I’m an acupuncturist.”\nShe snorts again, and it turns into full-blown laughter. Her boots hit the ground, and she doubles over in her seat. “I’m an acupuncturist,” she repeats, wheezing. “Oh, Jesus fuck. Mary’s tight virgin cunt, that’s hilarious. *Acupuncturist.*”\n\nI shoot a pointed look at the mirror. “Can we just get on with this?”\n\n“We’re waiting on you, sweetheart.”\n\n“Oh, that’s right. My apologies.” I clear my throat. “I’m afraid of birds.”\n\nShe twists her mouth. “All birds? Even like, pigeons and shit?”\n\nI nod.\n\n“Damn.” She clicks her tongue, jerking her head to the side. “Okay, I’ll do it.” She looks at the mirror and shouts, “Hear that? Come put the things on her face!”\n\nThe ‘things’ are electrodes, and that’s as far as I get into the explanation before they lose me. I just nod, hoping I can pay my bills this month and retain normal brain function. Most people in L.A. aren’t lucky enough to have both.\n\nWhen we’re both hooked up, the scientist--he’s in jeans and a Weird Al T-shirt, not a lab coat in sight--tells us one last time not to move during the procedure. He fiddles with the contraption on the table, and it’s over before I know it.\n\n“That’s it?” I ask, brow furrowing as he removes the electrodes.\n\nHe shrugs. “It’s a fairly simple procedure. We’ll contact you for follow-up.”\n\nUnderwhelmed, I adjust my bag and head for the door. Before I go, the girl in the chair shouts to get my attention. I pause with my hand hovering over the knob and turn around slowly.\n\n“Want to grab a drink?” she asks. “I know a dive with the best motherfucking pickles you’ve ever tasted.”\n\nI stare at her open-mouthed for a moment before pivoting and turning the knob. Just before the door closes behind me, I hear her shout, “I have a motorcycle! And a strap-on!”\n\nI run a hand through my hair as I head out into the L.A. smog, shuffling in the colorful crowd. At least my rent will be on time this month.",
"Dr. Rembar slapped the metal cap onto Harold's head and began to turn the screws. Harold only felt a slight pressure, as Dr. Rembar had warned, as the screws pierced his temples.\n\n\"Is the process normally this invasive?\" Harold asked numbly. Something was making his tongue feel swollen, and he was having trouble enunciating properly.\n\nDr. Rembar lowered his head to look Harold in the eyes.\n\n\"Normal?\" The doctor said. \"My God, man. What made you expect something normal?\" He stood straight again and finished screwing the cap into Harold's head then grabbed the mess of wires coming from the cap and started jamming them into a panel on the wall. Harold stared into the screen across the room from him where his bio and brain activity sprang up.\n\nHarold Scott\nAge: 33\nHeight: 6' 1''\nWeight: 86 kilograms\nConviction: Murder of the first degree\nYear sentenced: 2177\nMental Health: Fit for imprint.\n\nHe didn't understand the rolling wave pattern that was supposed to represent his brain activity, but it looked a little too... wonky to him. Sort of unevenly spaced and maybe a little slower than it should be.\n\n\"Doctor, I think something is wrong.\" The words came out in a groggy croak like Harold had just woken up from a deep sleep.\n\n\"Something is always wrong. That's what we're trying to fix.\" Something crackled behind Harold, and he was almost positive it was the sound of sparks bursting out of the panel.\n\n\"Could you just look at this screen and make sure?\" Harold asked.\n\nThe sparks and grunting behind Harold stopped suddenly.\n\n\"Look at the what?\" The doctors voice became low and raspy.\n\n\"The screen. My brain readout looks weird.\"\n\nA screwdriver flew against the wall right next to the screen.\n\n\"This isn't normal, this other thing is weird,\" the doctor mocked. \"What to do you know about weird? You drowned someone in a toilet bowl.\"\n\nHe stormed over to the desk on the other side of the room and picked up a file. A paper file, Harold couldn't help noticing. Harold hadn't seen paper since summer camp in 65.\n\n\"What the hell am I supposed to give you again?\" Dr. Rembar ran his finger down the paper. His head shook while he read, and he held the file close to his face, completely blocking his vision of the screen where it clearly read 'Loaded Imprint: Heliophobia.'\n\nDr. Rembar slammed the paper down. \"Fear of light!\" He yelled. \"Damned inconvenient for a politician.\"\n\nHe walked up to one of the sealed doors leading to the other operating room, where presumably, hopefully, the other person was hooked up to the same system.\n\n\"He's pale too. Looks like someone off one of the lunar cities. There's some kind kind of symbolism for you!\"\n\n\"Oh my God, he's mad,' Harold thought. 'A mad scientist just screwed a metal cap to my head and hooked me up to the prison power grid.'\n\nThe wave form showing Harold's brain activity sped up while Dr. Rembar walked to Harold's chair. He reached under into the tangle of wires looping around the base. Harold didn't know this many wires still existed on this planet. The doctor yanked one of them loose then took something out of his pocket that looked almost like a syringe but with one end made to plug into an outlet. Dr. Rembar stripped the insulation off the wire and wrapped it around the bottom of the syringe.\n\n\"Let's just add a little more to the load, yeah?\" The doctor circled the syringe toward his forehead like he was searching for the right spot then suddenly stabbed it through just above his right right eye.\n\n\"Look at the screen over there, Mr. Scott, and tell me if something else appears.\"\n\nHarold focused on the screen, but his vision was getting blurry. He could just make out the new word that appeared under 'Loaded Imprint.\"\n\n\"What is digiphobia?\"\n\nDr. Rembar picked up two loose connectors lying on the ground and brought them close.\n\n\"It's your problem now.\"\n\nHe jammed the connectors together. Sparks shot out of the wall panel again, and Harold's brain readout turned into a tidal wave. Numbers flew by at a blistering speed and it seemed like all the symbols on the screen were making his heart rate increase. If they kept going he would surely have a heart attack. He looked away from the computer screen and found one of the lights in the roof. A horrible, cold blinking thing that was trying to suck all the sight out of his eyes. The heart rate bottomed out, and his vision blurred and finally went dark.\n\nDr. Rembar stood up and carefully pulled the syringe out of his head, letting a drop of blood crawl into his eyebrow. When he saw Harold wasn't moving he grabbed his arm to check his pulse. Then he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and looked at the computer screen.\n\nHe felt nothing.\n\nThe doctor smiled as he walked to screen and scrolled through the history of the brain read out.\n\n\"Looks like you were right, Harold. Something was weird. Those idiots in prep wouldn't know a healthy brain from a well-baked potato.\"\n\nHe walked to the sealed door and looked through the window.\n\n\"Well, it looks like the other patient survived, so I guess it all turned out alright.\"",
"\"I mean how bad can that really be?\" I thought to myself, pondering if I was willing to accept this contract.\n\n\"6 billion credits will be enough for me to buy anything I wanted, hell, I could buy my own island and pass the time sitting on my own private beach.\" In this day and age most people don't even get to see a beach what with the polition and all.\n\nMy inner dialouge had ended. Enough thinking about it, I stared the well dressed man in the eyes. \"6 billion credits?\" I asked to confirmed. \"Is it not enough? 7-8 whatever just.... please I can't do it anymore.\"\n\n\"2 billion credits just for asking a question? Now I am definetly doing this.\" I thought before extending my hand. \"You have yourself a deal!\"\n\nThe contract was signed, it was done. As they began to hook the machines up I started thinking of all the things I wanted to buy first. The doctor told me to count backwards from 8 and the anesthetic would take effect. \"Fitting number\" I thought as I drifted off to sleep.\n\nWaking up I felt..... different.....hollow. All of my thoughts terrified me. What I once dreamed about spending the money on riddled me with guilt. Absolutley everything about myself I hated. I finally understood why he gave me this money, and why he didn't care giving it to me. I was also begining to understand where this fear came from. \"I'm sorry\" he looked at me one final time. \"The fear of yourself is something you never get used to, I never used to be this way, I just hope you can find someone to take this from you before it takes full hold.\" \n\nHe left the room as I stared until the last piece of his coat was visible. I wasnt the first person he had done this too, and I won't be the last. For him this was just a temporary relief at a hefty price. He was the CEO of the largest company on the planet, and as it turns out, the only thing his never ending revenue couldn't buy was self forgiveness for how he earned it. ",
"Phobia collecting is a lucrative job, Neeraj. I know it sounds, well, scary to most people - sorry, I joke - but like with any job, it just takes some lifestyle adjustments.\n\nLet me start by clearing up some common misconceptions. You get to choose your clients and what jobs you pick up, meaning you have full agency over what phobias you collect. This often results in different \"types\" of phobia collectors, or PCs.\n\nFirst, there's Alpha-type collectors. Alphas specialize in one or two particular phobias, and will specifically seek out and market to prospective clients seeking to transfer a phobia of that PC's specialty. The thing is, collected phobias *stack* in intensity. You'll find that this results in Alpha PCs who live out their life fully outside the realm of that phobia, or at least, as separated from it as possible. For example, an acrophobia collector (that's the fear of heights, Neeraj), would likely live out in the midwest, where the flatest lands exist, nary a skyscraper to be seen. Most in this field will aim for the niche, rare phobias, but the daring will take the extra money to collect fears of women, the color yellow, or even the letter Y. You hear many articles about the creative ways that these men live in luxury while still getting by in life.\n\nBut that's not for everyone. As you might guess, *Gamma* collectors diversify their collections across a wide variety of phobias. They'll pick a little bit of fear of spiders, some fear of the dark, some fear of clowns, and so on. It's an entirely respectable field, and much easier to control for, but Gammas often quickly run into a ceiling - there's only so many kinds of fears in the world, and only so much of a particular fear that a Gamma is willing to accept.\n\nNow, as I've been hinting at, not every phobia on the market has the same price. Costs for fears are based on two factors: rarity and intensity. Fears that are more common, more prevalent, and harder to avoid - like fear of the dark, fear of public places, or even fear of leaving the house - all have a higher cost than, say, a fear of Donald Trump. Who's Donald Trump? That president from early 2000s? Exactly. And intensity, well, makes sense - greater fears mean higher value. This system does wonders for people with intense, yet niche fears that others can't relate to.\n\nSo you might've heard criticisms about PCs, saying that our industry is negatively impacting clinical counseling. People are worried that, if the average joe pays money to no longer have fears, where's the money for therapy go? The answer is that we use it in therapy sessions. That's right, many of us PC's include therapy in our business model, by regularly working with therapists to overcome our fears the good 'ol fashioned way. In fact, with so many of us full-time PC's regularly attending therapy appointments, we've become *experts* in overcoming fear. This not only ensures that we keep the clinical counseling profession alive, but we also more efficiently deal with the process of overcoming fears quicker. We get fears out of society through phobia collection, Neeraj!\n\nSo yeah, in my experience, it's a wonderful job that supports a wonderful cause. Of course, you're welcome to treat it as a side-gig like many people do, but if you're dedicated, you can make a lucrative career out of it. Give it some thought. Anyway, thanks for coming by to talk. Oh! And if you wouldn't mind, please ask the secretary to lock my door on your way out. I don't want gnomes coming in to steal my things. Thanks."
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[WP] A famous writer goes back to his gritty urban roots. | 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",
"\"George, can you tell me the thing again?\" asked Lennie.\n\n\"I told you it countless times you big oaf, how 'bout you start?\" said George.\n\nLennie begins reciting the dream he and George share, he has it memorized he just likes hearing George say it.\n\nGeorge breaks open his double-barreled shotgun and loads a shell in each barrel, he closes the shotgun and raises it towards Lennie.\n\nGeorge waits a few moments and finally yells \"Lennie, duck!\". \n\n\"Where?!\" asks Lennie excitedly.\n\n\"Drop to tha floor Lennie! Now!\" yells George.\n\nLennie collapses face first into the pond water, George fires one shot, then the second. Two bodies slide down the small muddy slope and into the pond next to Lennie, he sits up a little bit and can clearly recognize one as Curly, but the other one's face was torn up from the buckshot so Lennie couldn't recognize him, blood slowly starts turning the water around the bodies pink.\n\nGeorge pushes the lever on his shotgun breaking it and dumps the two hot and smoking emptied shells out of the barrels and into the pond. He grabs two more shells from his front pocket and shoves them into the barrels, before closing the shotgun and aiming back up at the opening in the bushes where the two men he shot came from.\n\nAfter a second Slim shows up in the clearing, he looks horrified as he sees the lifeless bodies of both Curly and Carlson with blood seeping out of them into the now murky red pond water. He aims his .38 revolver at George, while his face turns stern. \"Why would ya do this just because of some fuckin' simpleton,\" he says gesturing at Lennie, \"I thought you were a decent man George, goddamn was I mistaken.\"\n\nSlim pulls back the hammer on his revolver. \n\nGeorge hesitates.\n\nLennie flinches as he fires Curly's .32 revolver, smoke exits out of the cylinder and barrel and dissipates. Lennie looks horrified as Slim's limp body falls over and rolls down the slippery slope splashing into the pond spraying bloody pond water into Lennie's face. Lennie drops the revolver into the water and starts crying.\n\n\"'Cause he's all I got and I'm all he's got lef' in this world.\" whispers George."
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"1479265041",
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[removed] | [WP] Supply a context for the following, wherever you wanna run take it: "Bitch I love you and my only regret in this life is not hitting you hard enough to get that across." | 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 can write you any story and make you feel emotions, but why can't I hit your sweet spot with love?!\"\n\nI'm known as a godlike writer by the world around me. I made people cry with a few words and lifted their spirits with one, but I can't seem to make her love me no matter what words I use! Am I just not as good as I thought I am? Or does she really not love me?\n\nIt's been a long damn year of me trying to tell her this! But every time I write a poem. She just takes it like a joke and I'm running out of words to say:\n\n\n\" I LOVE YOU OK?!\" I say to her with stinging tears in my eyes.\n\nKaren smiles and hugs me\n\n\"All the words in the world could never be as powerful as those three.\"\n\n_______________________________________________________"
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1,
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"1479292149",
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[WP] 71 years after the end of the World War II, you are the pilot that drops the bombs that start the World War III. | 34 | [
"\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",
"Life wasn't always like this. I didn't always have my finger on the button that could potentially wipe out the entire human race. Believe it or not, life used to be simple at one point or another. \n\nThe fate of humanity wasn't always at my fingertips. I used to be a chef. Different times, different place, different world. Things weren't black and white back then, literally. Since the dawn of what has come to be known as \"The Colorblind Era,\" we've lost our ability to view color. Not just some of us, or newborns, or old, or young, every human being on Earth can only view the world in black or white. Now, that doesn't necessarily mean all living things. Tests were done early on that may have indicated that animals still saw color, but they were never proven one way or the other. Rumors to give hope if you ask me. One thing that came along with the new times was the disappearance of racism, which I'm sure you're thinking is a good thing. Well, what replaced it was worse. A side effect to the colorblindness was what we now refer to as 'extremism,' and refers to the fact that you are either black or white, and that color which is viewed by others is not just shades of gray as you may have seen in the old films, but almost flat black or white. Race prior to the event also didn't seem to have an effect, some who were considered 'white' before were now as black as night, and vice versa, those who would've called themselves black were now almost shining they were so white. Features were the only things which gave some contrast in the color, but only barely and only in the right light. My opinion? It was just shadows playing tricks on our minds to try to make sense of this whole shit show. \n\nWhy was this happening? We have no idea. All we know is that about 9 years ago, the first person to have experienced the phenomenon woke up colorblind. From that exact millisecond forward, every person who woke from sleep experienced the same thing. Once word spread, people who hadn't fallen asleep yet did all they could to stay awake and preserve their colorfilled world. Up until that point, there were no recorded deaths due to sleep deprivation. Your body would simply shut down, put your ass to sleep, and you would wake up some time later. That wasn't the case any longer. People died... and eventually, all of humanity was color blind. \n\nThe most accepted explanation for what color you were after the change was, like lots of things in human history, tied to religion. If you were a believer in some form of creator, you were black, if you strongly believed all this shit was just some fuck up turn of events through evolution, you were white. Was this true? Who knows. People claimed to have varying beliefs, but most of the time, when asked, someone who was white would say they didn't believe and someone who was black did. (If you're into history, it's worth noting that there is plenty of evidence to suggest that before this theory was widely accepted, the correlation between religion and a person's color wasn't as apparent. Reports suggest that responses were much more varied at the beginning compared to present day.) \n\nRegardless, this threw humanity into the biggest us versus them situation we had ever dealt with. Segregation was a thing again, only this time entire countries claimed allegiance to one side or the other and took to quickly and swiftly deporting anyone not of their government's chosen alignment. What religion you identified with didn't matter at this point, either you believed or you didn't, and realistically that didn't even really matter either… at this point in history, you were either a white affiliate or a black, and for lack of a better term, there was simply no gray areas. \n\nAs you can probably guess, things escalated, countries waged war against the \"Non-believers\" or the \"Believers\", the Whites or the Blacks. Treaties were signed, alliances were made and overall, Humanity was on a run away train. And that brings us to me and this moment. A lowly old Chef who was drafted into our allegiance army due to my excellent hand/coordination skills (who said being good at video games was worthless? Take that Ma!) and put on the fast track to aviation pilot. These days, planes are not physically manned, but controlled by those of us hundreds of miles away in a bunker somewhere, eating our Cheetos and drinking our Mountain Dew. (Just kidding… Mountain Dew is owned by the blacks.) I was given a mission packet this morning labeled \"Jughead\" and told to keep my head down, stay focused, and \"do your damn job!\" It was a weird thing… not getting a mission, or being told to hold my focus, but to be told to keep to myself and to do my damn job was unordinary. I'm one of the best in the room and I've never botched a mission or lost a plane. Part of that is due to my ability to use my fellow pilots to my advantage, gaining knowledge and positioning myself in a way as to avoid getting blown the fuck up. (Yes. I used my coherts as shields… get over it.) Quickly I found out there was something… different about today's mission. I saw much more opposition on the way to my checkpoint above a recently captured island off the coast of Asia. I had only one other plane in the air with me, which was at a much higher altitude and which we referred to as a spotter. His primary objective being to do just that, spot the bad guys before they got anywhere near me. As I got closer to my drop point, things got hairy. I had to fight my way threw a ridiculous amount of other fighters, but when I was about a mile out from the objective, all opposition had disappeared. Minutes before I got to my drop point, there was static in my headset. I attempted to contact my spotter, but received no response… that was until I heard her voice. \"Pilot… Sir. I'm not sure who you are or where you're located. I don't know anything about you, or your family, or your past. But I can tell you I know about your future. If you hit that button and release your payload when you're told to do so… it will be the end. We don't have a lot in common I'm sure. I'm black. You're white. And as we all know, there is no gray area. Except… there is. What is beyond those colors is humanity. Skin. Bone. Organs. Heart. And what some believe, a soul. I'm telling you right now, if you drop that payload it's over. Your commanding officers have loaded you with the most deadly weapon in human history. You're not just carrying another bomb. What you've got in that belly is infinitely more powerful than the bombs dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. They won't just destroy that little island. They consume the water around it. The blast and fallout will reach thousands of miles away and despite what your commanding officers think, this WILL land on White territory. It will kill millions of us. Not us as in Black's. Us, as in human's. And the recourse? We may not have a bomb that is as powerful as Jughead, but it's almost there… and it will be the only option the alliance has. They will retaliate. They will strike back. And it won't be you, but they, who ends humanity as we know it. Think about that.\"\n\nAnd then the line was dead… \n\n((Fun fact. I wrote that introduction 3 years ago after a dream. https://imgur.com/gallery/dN0Vy ))",
"*I can't believe it. I remember being 32 years young and fighting the Nazi's for the good of the world. And here I am, doing it all over again.*\n\n\"Arnold? .. ARNOLD! Snap out of it! Stop day dreaming! We have a mission to carry out, here!\"\n\n\"A what now?\"\n\n\"The mission. You're currently piloting a bomber, Arnold. You realise this, right?\"\n\n*The young kid to my left spoke sense. Here I was, piloting a bomber again. What a thrill. I hadn't done this kind of thing since I fought the Nazi's. 26 years young I was. And here I am doing it all over again.*\n\n\"This is Red Fox to mission control.\"\n\n\"Mission control we copy.\"\n\n\"Sir, I think this is a bad idea.\"\n\n\"What's a bad idea?\"\n\n\"Choosing Arnold for this mission, sir. The man is over 100 years old. He's shit himself and won't stop talking about the Nazi's.\"\n\n\"He's the best we've got, god dammit. That man fought in World War 2. He's a god damn hero.\"\n\n\"I didn't want to to tell you this but he stopped to accuse a helicopter of treachery on the walk to the jet, sir.\"\n\nArnold spoke up, \"Son, did I ever tell you about the time I fought the Nazi's?\"\n\n\"He's talking about the Nazi's again, sir.\"\n\n\"The year was some time in the past somewhere. I was 19 years young and fresh out of boot camp. Betty Boop was the hot ticket and everyone was being forced to dance the goose step.\"\n\n\"ARNOLD! THE CONTROLS!\"\n\n\"Oh don't worry about that, son. They have all kinds of fancy fandangles on these space age computer ships. When this is all finished, can you help me fix my phone? I think it's broken because my son can't seem to call me anymore.\"\n\nSirens began to blur in the cockpit. The co-pilot struggled to regain the controls as he leaned over Arnold in an attempt to reverse whatever it was he had done or pressed.\n\n\"Mission control, mission control, we're going down!\"\n\n\"You know what this reminds me of? Fighting the Nazi's. I was 8 years young ...\"\n\n****\n\nI write shitty, silly stories on /r/BillMurrayMovies. Feel free to come along, not laugh at any of them and leave some judgement.\n"
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[WP] Write a dystopian story in which the hero is a college-age guy who has little to no motivation. | 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",
"The world’s ended, so why should I fucking bother?\n\nI mean, there’s a competitive job market, that’s one thing...there’s a lack of housing, that’s another...but now? \n\nNow there’s no fucking planet left to fight over! \n\nSo why bother getting out of bed in the morning? \n\nI say ‘bed’ but, of course, I mean ‘car’. \n\nI live in my car.\n\n(That’s actually a badge of pride, these days)\n\nChrist, that ‘final generation’ really did a number on us, didn’t they? They squandered the last bit of our inheritance; the planet. It’s like they ate the orange and left us with the peel. But who could blame them? It’s human nature to ignore the iceberg, even when you’re tilting at 45 degrees. There’s no-one left to say “I told you so” 'cause everyone’s dead!\n\nWell, everyone apart from me, anyway.\n\nI don’t know why I was spared: what makes me so special? Am I meant to chronicle this shit? \nWho’s gonna read it – the roaches? And what should I write anyway? \n\n*“Dear diary: today I woke up, had a piss, foraged the bins, kicked a rabid dog...”*\n\nIt’s hardly Samuel Pepys, is it?\n\nI suppose, if I so was inclined, I could look for other survivors – but, come on, what’s the point? Anyone left is bound to be as fucked up as me. And if we do manage to rebuild from the rubble...well, what then? A new society? It’ll end up just like the old one; broken and useless, guaranteed.\n\nI could spend the rest of my days learning – you know, find a library, teach myself philosophy or some shit. But that seems pretty pointless too. The world’s ugly and real enough, I don’t need a whole load of new words to make sense of it. You can't eat culture.\n\nMy day to day existence is just a series of processes: I shit, I piss, I sleep, and I eat. Well, sometimes I get to eat. Food's pretty scarce right now, and the food I do find tends to glow.\n\nThere was a time when being apathetic was a choice; these days, it seems like the *only* choice.\n\nSuck a dick, world.",
"“You see, we can’t have people just saying whatever they want.” Ben’s father held his right hand in the air, and continued in a deep and pathetic voice. “We need to stop arresting people! It’s not fair! I want my turn! Boo hoo!” He put his arms back down. “That’s what all those illegal protesters sound like, they’re a bunch of whiners that won’t do anything so they can’t be allowed to speak.”\n\nBen grunted, and despite his better judgement he spoke to his dad. “If they won’t do anything then what harm will they do talking?”\n\nBen’s father made a high pitched gasp. “You just don’t get it, people can’t be allowed to say what they want because they’ll be running down the streets killing people. Those idiots think they can do whatever they want.”\n\nThis time Ben remained silent, ignoring his Dad’s ability to contradict himself in under ten seconds. He read through the day’s highlights on his phone. Another block emptied of everybody in it, another protest broken up fatally by the police. He really wished he could do something about it, but he had video games to play.\n\nThey pulled up to Ben’s college dorm, plastered in anti-government and anti-fascist posters. “I can’t believe they let these illegal things stay up. They don’t even know what fascism is, back in my day people had to vote on what to do, that was fascism, we never knew what was going to happen.” Ben’s father tried to kiss Ben on the cheek but Ben pulled away and quickly jumped out of the car. “I love you Ben!”\n\nWalking into the dorm Ben imagined flying through space, seeking new worlds, and blowing up everything he found. Maybe he’ll find some sexy alien babes. He walked through the common area with his head down, a small group of four people had formed that was talking about an upcoming protest. Unfortunately for Ben, Mike, his only friend, saw him. “Hey Ben! We need your help, get over here!”\n\nBen stared at Mike who was wildly waving his arms in what would appear to an outsider to be some kind of mating dance. “God dammit,” Muttered Ben. Still, he was too polite to just keep walking and went over to the group.\n\n“So guys, this is Ben.” Mike put his arm around Ben. “He’s got a lot of great ideas on what we can do and get more people outside.”\n\nNarrowing his eyes, mouth slightly agape, Ben had no idea what Mike was talking about. “I do?”\n\n“Yeah, I read that post you made on DarkField, it really inspired me.”\n\nBen closed his eyes and sighed. “Oh damnit, I didn’t, I mean I meant it but I didn’t mean…” \nHe trailed off as he noticed the group staring at him. “I guess it’s an idea, I don’t know if it’s a good idea.”\n\n“Come on, it’s all great, tell them what you said.”\n\n“All I said was that you guys had to work together. There’s a million protests about a million different things, so just have one giant protest that’s about one thing.”\n\nThe people in the group looked at each other, one of them ran off. “How do we do that?” One of them asked.\n\n“Have people focus on the dictators instead of the goal. You can figure out the goal later.\"\n\t\n“They’ll just say we’re violent agitators.”\n\n“I’ve read about sit-ins, you’ll just sit somewhere, that might work. And I guess it doesn’t matter, the cops will keep escalating the violence, letting more people see them for who they are.”\n\nA large group of men and women entered the common area, what was an empty room was now packed with people. Somebody with a chair came over and hands belong to unseen bodies picked Ben up and put him on the chair. The room erupted in cheers.\n\nMike yelled out to the room, “Tell him what we’re going to do Ben!”\n\nFrozen in terror, Ben said nothing.\n\n“We’re gonna work together right Ben?” Mike yelled out.\n\nBen nodded. “Uh, yeah.”\n\n“United we stand!” Yelled out Mike once more.\n\n Ben looked over the crowd, and then back down to Mike who motioned for him to talk. “Divided we fall?”\n\nAgain the the room erupted into cheering, which then let to chanting. “Ben! Ben! Ben!”\n\nStanding in the middle of the crowd, Ben only had one thought, “I’m not going to get to play my game today.”"
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1,
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3
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"1479311918",
"1479331132",
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[WP] In a post apocalyptic world, toilet paper has become of great value. Lucky for you, you were a supervisor at a Charmin factory. | 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",
"He licked the water from within the small crevice where it had collected with night's storm. It collected in the extreme angle formed where the tip of the roots met rock. Only a mouthful. It was a lukewarm god awful godsend. A pitiful tongue scraped across his cracked lips, a dried up snake slithering across the cracks of oblivion.\n\nHe looked at the sun, fading, dying. He could remember a youthful time when he had tried looking at the sun but failed, asking his father why he could not. Now his gaze was fixed on it, never blinking. \n\nHe had to get the white gold. It was his only salvation. He was close, he could taste it. He was close to the Charmin palace. Home to the emporor of the neverend desert.\n\nIt had a bluish color now, the sun, the skies were incoherently polluted. Clouds also seemed to go by faster than they had in the days past. The wind was a harsh punisher, whipping sand onto his skin in never faltering rhythms of pain. The wind did not subdue the torrid heat. He wondered why his sweat would not dry. Precious water lost.\n\nHis horse died two days before he reached the great Charmin palace.\n\nintermission\n\n\"Oil, I will give you all that you can ever dream of. I am an oil man sir. I have in my possesion a great lake...no...a massive sea of oil!\"\n\n\"Oil is of no use to me.\" I replied.\n\nThe small man grimaced. \"But what of your machines. The machines of the old world. Those are powered by oil!\", he cried.\n\n\"Ah, but you see, I have no use for oil anymore, I have in my possesion machines that can create the magic that comes from oil, directly fom the sun. And this magic feeds all the other machines.\"\n\n\"Sir, have a travlled far. My horse perished from thirst. To travel is a burden, with the sun beating without stop. Could you please spare a few rolls of white gold so that I can travel back to my fields and provide for my family. Please sir, my oil is of no use anymore.\"\n\nI looked at the man before me. \n\n\"Baxter, bring me more wine.\", I barked at one of my servants. \n\nHe started.\n\n \"Wait! Send for Meena to come and feed me!\"\n\nBaxter nodded and scurried off.\n\nI looked at the small man again.\n\n\"You see, my good man, living like this...\" I waved my hand around to signal him to look at my palace. \"costs money. And money, is measured in white.\", I said.\n\nI paused for a moment.\n\n\"No no no, I cannot possibly give you even one roll of toilet paper. Because to do that would be unfair. How would you handle the responsibily. I cannot place a burdon of such magnitude upon your shoulders.\", I said fairly.\n\nMeena meekly fed me grapes and wine.\n\n\"Off with you now oil man, you may drink water from my white fountains before you go. Simply pull the lever.\", I smiled.\n\nThe small man turned away with hunched shoulders, which I did not understand.\n\n\"Be sure to tell everyone of the generosity of the Emperor with the white gold, for I am fair and just.\"\n\nThat should settle it, I thought as I sipped from my goblet of wine."
] | [
1,
1
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"1479323918",
"1479327116"
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[WP] Let’s explore emotions! The thing that terrifies your character more than anything is happening. | 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",
"I've been afraid of this my whole life. More than I've feared anything. I would rather face death. \n\nIt won't be so bad, eventually, I know. It's one of those things you adapt to. Stop noticing. Stop caring about. \n\nBut I still care. I still notice. Yesterday, she came, and I didn't recognize her. Her face was unfamiliar. She could have been anyone. I only knew she was someone I should know because of her face when I didn't. Disappointment. Fear. Sadness. \n\nI feel those things too. Everyday, more and more. The sheer terror. \n\nI'm losing my mind. \n\nNot going insane, no. Although I feel I may, sometimes. I'm losing my mind--my memories. Words. Names. Faces. *Her face.* Her. Everyone. \n\n*Myself.*\n\nIt started innocently. I'd forget directions to a place I've been before. Forget to pick up milk while shopping. Forget a word in conversation. Forget a birthday. Lose my keys. Lose my car. Lose myself, somewhere. \n\nI know it won't be long before I forget what I used to do for a living. Forget what my parents looked like when I was young. Forget what my children looked like when they were young. Eventually, forget my children. Forget how much I love them. \n\nI don't want this. I wish I would die of cancer. A heart attack. An aneurysm. Die in an accident. Die in a fire. \n\nI wish I was alone. I wish I didn't have memories of people I loved, so I wouldn't lose them. I wish I hadn't been married for 52 years (or was it 53 years?) to the most perfect woman I ever laid eyes on. I wish I had never seen her face, so I wouldn't be able to forget it. \n\nI hope it's quick. I hope I don't suffer much longer. I know I'm forgetting things. I know what I'm losing. I hope, when it's all gone, I'll be at peace. I hope I won't know what I've lost. \n\nBut I know *now.* I'm losing myself. I'll be gone soon, but still here, waiting. \n\nHer beautiful face will look at me with sadness. I'll see her, but my memory of her will be gone. She will know, and I will not. \n\nI'll already be gone. "
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"1479395421",
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[removed] | [WP] Let’s explore emotions! The thing that infuriates your character beyond all reason is happening. | 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\n[Copy-cat](http://i.imgur.com/38FjDgW.gifv) 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\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/5dgab2/wp_lets_explore_emotions_the_thing_that/%0A%0A)"
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