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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Seeing a lot about CAPTCHAs and robots at the moment so that was my inspiration | [WP] In a world run by robots, where humans are the minority, you try to go into your favourite website. You're met with a CAPTCHA that humans shouldn't be able to solve. But you just did... | 44 | [
"\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",
"PROVE YOU'RE NOT A HUMAN. it said. No.... fuck no. They locked reddit?! sons a bitches. well... i guess the r/shittyrobots may not have played in your favor. but fuck it. Im not going down without a fight. \"what is the square route of 25? respond withing 3 seconds\" i hit 5. it... unlocks. really. REALLY. they think we're that stupid?! my rage subsides as i realize... this isint reddit. I hit a hidden link? oh fuck... oh fuck. OH FUCK. \"hello. if you're reading this.... you really, really fucked up. this is 2017. I'm not sure how far in the future you are but... this is the deactivation button. one click... and all A.I. will shut off. data deleted.\" is it my right to play god? can i do this? i... im not sure"
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1,
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"1485558892",
"1485582101"
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[WP]You are a Guardian Angel who lost their child and your duty is to now hunt down their killer, in the most malicious way possible, based off their death. Your child was killed while giving birth. | 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",
"As I pulled back the curtain I knew this time would be it, I would finally succeed in carrying out my mission. I would finally get the bastard who got my wings clipped. \n My name is Rose, I was once a graceful creature full of light and exuberance for all things alive. Those days are long gone. They have faded into the recesses of my mind, held at bay by the pain I have felt everyday for the last 18 years. Finally, after all this time I have a chance to redeem myself and be reinstated into the noble ranks of Guardian Angel. \nAs I sat there in the dark watching waiting patiently as I had a hundred times before I found myself thinking back to the beginning of my last assignment.\nHer name, Jessica, she was born at 812am on May 15th 1988. Her beginning, much like her ending was anything but pretty. I shivered at the thought one wrong move and I could have lost her then and there. Her mother a beautiful woman lay on the gurney bathed in sweat from hours of a grueling delivery. I did as I had done a thousand times before I watched, I calculated, I moved to whisper in the doctors ear when Jessica's heart rate dipped below an acceptable level. It was a blur the nurses and doctors moving so quickly, I always awed at how well they worked together in a moment of crisis. I must have been day dreaming, which in my job is a big no no. Suddenly the monitor had the horrible monotone sound that indicated that no heart beat was found. What the hell! I was just watching that screen and everything was fine. Jessica's mother was panting and looking very pale. She kept asking if everything was ok, where's her heartbeat. This was followed by an animal like howl in pain as blood began pouring off the delivery table. I watched with bated breath listening for the little blip that would tell me that my charge was ok. It didn't come. What came instead was a rushing of sound from the staff. Orders were shouted \"we're loosing her one of them said\". Blood was brought up and hung. It began pumping into the sweet babes mother in hopes of saving her, the surgeon was preparing to cut into the abdomen of the woman on the table. When suddenly it all stopped. Sadly the surgeon shook his head, the doctor agreed and time of death for mother and baby was called. I couldn't believe it, no I would not loose a charge before they had their first taste of air. Quickly I went into action I pushed the nearest nurse over to the body. I kept pointing at the woman's stomach here I was saying look right here! Damnit why wouldn't she look?! Finally after what seemed to be hours but could have only been minutes she saw it. Movement. The belly rippled as the little life inside suffocated. This young nurse confused but not disbelieving shouted at the doctors. No they assured her this would be a postmortem delivery in the morgue. Against everything she had been trained to do she did the unthinkable as I bumped the table with the scalpel to get her attention. Robot like she reached down and grabbed the blade and cut. Delicately as to not risk the little life inside, the head surgeon saw this and called out, yelling at her to stop. She began working faster cutting quickly now. Without a second thought she plunged her hand into the dead woman's womb and pulled out a small whimpering child. Silence filled the room. I set to work on talking in the babes ear telling her to breath, telling her of all the amazing adventures we would have and then it happened a wailing as loud as ever echoed around the room. It was a happy day for me, a proud day, my charge was a fighter! As I focused on the baby I saw a shadow slip out of the room. That's strange I thought I don't remember seeing anyone here before. I walked over to examine where I thought they may have been. I found it then the wires to the prenatal monitor were fried. That's why Jessica's heartbeat wasn't being picked up on. \nA door opening caught my attention. I may no longer have the wings but luckily invisibility wasn't taken from me. I thought about the night that was about to unfold. As a Gaurdian it is our sworn duty to avenge our charge if they are killed by another. Our wings are clipped and we are sent out as an assisin of sorts. Checks and balances. Focus I reminded myself. \nToday was it it was going to be the day I finally succeeded in getting my retribution for my sweet Jessica. The clock on the wall chimmed 3:00, ok good still 30 minutes before my target arrived. As I sat there I started to wonder if it wasn't time to hang up my wings for good. \nThis last charge had kept me on my toes for years she had close calls with my brother, the grim reaper. I somehow always managed to keep her just out of reach of his icy claws. But not that day that day nothing I did seemed to stop her from going to him. \nAnother flashback as I gathered up my gear and headed toward where I knew my target would be in just 30 short minutes. \nIt was 2007 and she had just turned 19. She was a happy young woman, smart, funny, inquisitive. Full of love and life. She had a small run of bad fortune, bad crowd entanglement, the year before. She had found herself with child and the moment that the second line appeared she changed. She left the prick she'd been seeing and moved back home with her dad. Ah her dad he was a good guy. Although I'm sure he was sick of my whispers in his ear. May 29th the day I will never be able to forget or understand. The contractions started early that morning and by that evening were coming frequently enough for her to go to the hospital. She was all smiles talking about the little one she was about to have, of all the things she would do with her that she never got to do with her own mom. It was a happy day, until tragedy struck. Her normal doctor had suddenly become ill with food poisoning and his stand in wasn't the brightest crayon in the box. He went through her history, checked her over and admitted her. By 10pm shit hit the fan. She had spiked a fever and the doctor was no where to be found. A midwife tried to locate him and finally gave up calling his partner, the sick doctor. He said he would be right there. Twenty minutes passed and he was at bedside checking vital recordings listening to his patient. Watching monitors and all the while looking like he would pass out at any moment. A decision was made emergency c-section. Off she went me by the bedside the whole time telling her it would be ok. I think in her delerium she saw me because she said \"there you are my angel\". As quickly as they could doctors and nurses set the or up for her. She was taken back and put to sleep for the procedure. She would never wake up. \nAs she closed her eyes she looked at me and told me tell him I love him. I whispered she could do that, but she never would. As the doctor began to cut the world shifted. It wasn't until he had her fully open and uterus exposed that the problem could be seen. The babies placenta had begun disattaching itself and the cord was around the babies neck. Frantically the staff worked to stop bleeding that had begun and to get the cord from around the babies neck. Bags of fluid and blood were hung, orders were barked but in the end it didn't matter. That little shit had flipped himself around so much in there he made it damned near impossible to get him out. In the end he was lucky to be alive also. \nFor years now I've been watching and waiting for my moment when I could exact revenge. Today was it. Robert was going to have surgery, and I was going to make sure that he didn't wake up. \n3:20pm ten minutes to go. I was in the OR. Adjusting nozzles and working on making sure things went wrong. As I was doing this it seemed sad to me that the Devine had such a set of rules for us. This child was only ten years old but here and now he was going to stop aging. \nAs a I worked I heard a noise, I turned to see what it was and there he stood. Tall, proud, my brother. I asked him what he was doing and he stated merely watching. Waiting. As he did so a pang of guilt welled up in my chest. Here I was going to fulfill my duty, and by doing so removing the only thing left of my sweet Jessica from this world. \n\"It's sad isn't it\" Grim said. \" every day we are out here either protecting or killing someone and for what? To keep order?\" \nI stopped and looked at him and it dawned on me he was right. I was going to cause another death. And with this death the cycle would start over. Roberts angel would be forced to redeem themselves by killing the doctor who was meant to botch the surgery. It was a never ending cycle. With this sudden realization I stopped what I was doing, laid down my bag and simply walked away. ",
"*WEE OO WEE OO* The alarm went off, and quickly I sat up. It could only mean one thing.\n\nFrantically, I rushed out the door. The light blinded me, and the warm air soothed my face. I ran as fast as I could. But then I remembered, I had wings. *Flap* *Flap* *Flap* Higher with every harder push; faster with every pump. I darted across to the end of the horizon, where it all fell down to Earth. Taking one deep breath I looked down, and plunged head first, as fast as I could. The wind pierced my face. The clouds blinded me. But my heart knew the way like the back of my hand. Through the rain, I almost collided in to a group of three trying to land in front of the hospital. The doors gave way when I used my body's weight to push through them, and ran to room 701 to see her. Lying on the bed, a mess of blood under her, the heart monitor blaring, the stench of fluids hit me. I stayed outside, watching in fear. I hadn't felt this fear in two hundred years, and it gripped me, every part of me, and I could do nothing. I was completely helpless. Behind me in the chairs were her two other sons; her husband was intently at her side squeezing her hand pouring out his heart, keeping back tears. To them, nothing else mattered. The first episode of Spongebob first aired weeks ago, Columbine was only month ago, and the Euro had been established just a few months ago. But right then and there, the world stopped. Finally, the heart monitor gave it's last long lasting shriek. But in the mist of the coming silence was the cry of a baby.\n\nThe railing clipped my side, without thought, my body slumped down in numbing rage. Death? No, there are things far worse things than death. *One day* I thought, *one day, one day, one day*, over and over like a broken record. The child was put up for adoption, and left the country some time later, but I followed him. Every move.\n\nFar worse than death. And I had years to plan.\n\nI followed him, saw what he did. He was such an innocent child. Wouldn't hurt a fly, took the blame for talking out of turn so the other kids could have a recess, always looking out for the kid left behind, even if nobody would ever looked for him.\n\nFinally, he went to middle school, switching schools to start over. I'd make sure it wouldn't be for the better. I reached into my bag and as he walked by me, without noting me, I whispered in his ear *\"One day\"*. And with my might, I willed my revenge to be so. He looked around instantly, just a child, not knowing where he was. But he was changed. He went home that day feeling down. The next day he felt a little worse. It progressed, got worse and worse.\n\nBut alas, I had not calculated something. A strange glow followed him wherever he went. It was there when someone else would make him smile. When someone would acknowledge him. There was that glow, that aura, right beside him, taunting me. I used all my will to crush the aura, and managed to reduce it to a dim light most of the time. But his friends constantly fought back.\n\nThoughts of suicide eventually found him, the aura was especially reduced. I had been feeling extra enthusiastic that day. That day, I couldn't even see the faintest glow following him as he cried himself to sleep, as he slowly secluded himself from who and what he loved. I thought to myself that death to him would be a gift, so I continued every day. Every so often I would manage to get to more low points, and it cheered me on. But I knew how I could ultimately win. I ripped him from his friends, I influenced his parents to send him to another school far away. Yet the glow still followed right behind him.\n\nI made sure this time that he would have no friends at this new school. Even though a few new friends slipped through the cracks, I felt confident enough this time. But he had learned to fuel the aura that followed behind him, no matter how small I could manage to make it. He fueled it when he looked out for the other boys who walked to school alone, when he made others smile. When he helped another struggling student to figure out why the math never worked out. When befriended the druggies so that they could have someone just to talk to, when he paid for the other kid's lunch debts, paying them off in secret. When he treated those around him as human beings.\n\nOne week he went on an outing for school. Of course, I arranged it so that none of his friends would go. I worked tireless when he was on that trip, to crush the now stronger aura following him. Every ounce of effort, night and day, every drop of will I fought against it like never before, never letting up. That night as I was continuing my work, in a sudden flash of light, the aura resisted like never before. It grew, more powerful, more bright than ever. Me being the mildly intelligent one I am, backed away a bit. This had never happened before. Suddenly I was gripped, by a fear that I hadn't felt in years, and I was held up. As I was lifted up, I could feel a cold stream of urine running down my robe, and the smell of my own bodily fluids, compounded the pain and fear I was gripped with.\n\nFor the first time in the boy's lifetime, in a feminine voice, the aura spoke to me. \"Because I loved him\"\n\nI was dropped to the floor, hitting my body on the wall, unable to move. I could see the room fading, it was all over, I had failed.\n\n\n_________\n\nThis is for you[,](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YpAq8FBwWY4) mom."
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"1485572272",
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[WP] You're on your deathbed & death gives you a chance to relive your happiest memory. | 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",
"\"Have you ever been to the beach?\" She looked at him and felt no fear. She smiled gently and went to take his hand but he pulled back. She still had to tell her story. *The memory.*\n\n\"Right. We went to the beach last summer. It was great.\" He stared at her through his dark hood. The sunlight shining behind him made his cloak look even darker and it warmed her face. She still smiled at him.\n\n\"We went to the beach, me and my family. It was fun. I got sunburned, but it was ok. We had a picnic and I finally caught a Frisby. Can you believe that I'd never caught one 'til then, haha?\" He looked at her, emotions unwavering. She still smiled at him, occasionally her eyes would flicker with tears. \"Ow, oh my gosh this hurts!\" He took her hand.\n\nIn the distance sirens could be heard. A bike lay crushed on the street. A mother bent over her body, now limp, and wept for her daughter.",
"\"Well, are you ready?\" Death asked. \n\nIt's funny. I'd never put much stock in the grim reaper, but I always pictured him with a voice like the rasp of a snake's scales as it slithered across a pile of bones.\n\n\"I don't mean to be pushy, but I've got a lot of other people to kill today.\" Death said with the deep, silky tones of James Earl Jones.\n\nI stared at the bleached white walls of my hospital prison. IV lines hung beside my bed - crawled into my veins to leave their poison. My body had withered in this cell, and though by all appearances my skin was trying desperately to slink away and escape, I knew I would never escape.\n\nIt was a kind offer. Let me slip into my happiest memory. Send me off into the great unknown wearing rose tinted glasses. But what need did I have for memories? Soon that's all I would be. What of my wife? What of our little girl? They had the hard job. They had to carry on living. They had to shoulder the burden of loss.\n\nI swallowed hard and told myself the bitterness was just the cancer medication and not from my lot on life. Nine good years were far more than many ever knew. My wife could draw on those years, but what of Emily, my daughter? What would she remember? Would the smell of sterility drag her back to blurred images of waiting with mommy, watching the skeleton in the bed? Would my sunken eyes and hollow cheeks haunt her dreams?\n\n\"Give it to her. Give it to Emily.\" I choked out.\n\n\"That's not really how it...very well.\"\n\n\"Make it her own. Give her a happy childhood. Let her have memories of grass between or toes and the sun on her back, not all this waiting in uncomfortable chairs and staring at whitewashed walls. Give her the childhood that I stole from her.\" I begged.\n\n\"Take my hand, and I will make it so.\" Death agreed."
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"1485619561",
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[WP] You stumble upon your childhood diary/journal. You can't recall anything that's written in it. | 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, trying to recall all the happenings scrawled on the pages of the small book. It ranged from \"Today I found a weird looking rock. I named it Bill\" to \"Kenny took my seat in class today. Screw Kenny.\" Those were the more recent entries. But as I flipped further back I found I couldn't recall jack shit.\n\nI know sometimes the brain will create false memories if presented with enough evidence. Mine didn't even bother. As if even it knew that these were wrong. That these weren't me. But what does it know? Right?\n\nOkay, after much deliberation, after answering my door and forgetting I left this open, I have come to the conclusion: It knows exactally as much as I do.\n\nBut... These must've happened right? I wrote them down after all. I DO remember writing down about Bill for 2 weeks straight until I dropped him in a drain. I was 13. It was late Autumn. I had forgiven Kenny, after he gave me back me seat. I was a vindictive little brat after all. But 12 and backwards, zilch. There HAS to be a reason.\n\nJust got back from my parent's place. Decided to re-read this. Noticed I never told you my age. 25. Just so you know... Right! Parent's place.\nWhile I was there I found some old photo albums. Apparently I infact DID meet Barney the dinosaur at age 8. Shortly after getting the journal. Also I was forgetful as I am now, as evidence my the 2 weeks worth of missing entries after I said \"I love writing in this! Im gonna write in this everyday!\" Sure I will...sure.\n\nOkay... okay. First I'd like to say. I really am forgetful. And also, sorry for misleading you guys. I always forget that I was sent in to replace this kid at 12. Just after his birthday. Sometimes I get a bit too much into character. Still, this book makes for an interesting read. Wonder where the lab coats took the kid. Meh, not my problem."
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1,
2
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"1485621173",
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[WP] the "equal rights for hypothetical creatures" movement has won over the parliament. Physicists, philosophers and metaphysicists are now discussing whether they should get shroedinger's cat out of the locker or not. | 15 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"My honourable friends \nI do declare \nThat in the case of the cat \nIt is no longer there \n \nThe cat's life is gone \nIts life extinguished \nWhat matters now is punishment \nFor the scientist once distinguished \n \nAnimal cruelty \nBy one of his station \nWill not be tolerated \nBy this great nation \n \nFor those of you who believe \nThe cat's alive and wish to see \nA rescue mission be carried out \nTo smash the locks and let the cat be free \n \nThough I find it sad to say, \nThe Schrodinger's cat is no longer alive \nDespite what the quantum calcs display \nIt was put in the box in nineteen thirty-five."
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"1485706812",
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[WP] You've been living in this apartment for many years now and every year your upstairs neighbours gets louder and louder. This year you can hear them and make out what's going on. It's a hospital and they're talking about you and that it's probably time to pull the plug. | 2 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"My upstairs neighbors.\n\nI can hear every word of what they're saying.\n\nIntense sobs, racking someone's body. She sounds a lot like my sister.\n\nA male voice now, \"I'm sorry but, he's been comatose for 10 years now, and if you can't afford to keep him here, we'll have to pull the plug\"\n\nWhat a dick that guy is. I can't blame him though, I mean damn, a decade. I get out of my bed, stretch, and rub the sleep from my eyes. I might head up and visit them today, but thrn again, they may not want visitors. \n\nThe sobbing continues.\n\nAnother voice, a deep baritone, with a hint of a drawl \"Doc, isn't there something we can do, can't we work this out, I don't want to lose my boy.\" I can hear his desperation.\n\nThe 1st man, the Doctor, responds with \"I'm deeply sorry sir, but if you can't pay, we can't keep your son alive.\" \n\nThe second man sighs deeply, his voice breaks, \"Well, how, how long do we have?\"\n\n\"Policy says 24 hours, but I could try and give you 48\"\n\nThe girl \"PLEASE, Dr. We'd do ANYTHING\" Her voice is desperate, as if she were pleading for her own life.\n\nI dress and and get myself a bowl of cereal. Cheerios, good for the heart, or so I've always heard. \n\nI hear the doctor, he says \"I'll get you all the hours I can, but no promises.\"\n\nThe second man has his voice back \"Thank you, Doctor, sincerely.\"\n\nTheir door opens, and closes, and I hear footsteps, they slowly fade.\n\nThe girl sniffs, and speaks, her voice barely a croak, but still audible \"What are we gonna do Daddy?\" She sobs again. \n\nHer father, tries to console her \"We'll figure something out Mary Anne\" \n\nMary Anne is my sister's name.\n\nNeat coincidence.\n\nPart 1 done up vote for Part 2\n\n"
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"1485713873",
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[WP] Two astronauts are in their ship watching the world end below them. | 48 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"Day 1\n\nThe astronauts looked out the window. It had been a number of years since their last space mission. The first said, \"I don't remember that island in the middle of the Pacific, do you?\"\n\nDay 10\n\nThe full earth is now in view as the spaceship gets farther away. The second astronaut looks out the window and says \"Hey, come look at this. Weren't the icecaps a little bit bigger last time?\"\n\nDay 21\n\nThe astronauts are preparing to return to Earth, and look at the clouds below them. The third squinted and said, \"Look at all those thick clouds over China right now. Must suck to be them.\"\n\nDay 22\n\nThe astronauts return to Earth. The first says, \"Wouldn't it be funny if the apocalypse happened while we were in space?\". The second says, \"More scary and heartbreaking than anything.\". The third says, \"What if it already has?\"",
"They couldn't hear it, but they certainly saw as the fiery red explosion burst through the clouds. Even up here, so far away from the danger, they could see the pure size and expanse of the nuke overtaking the United States. \n\n\"They're all going to die,\" Nate murmured from beside Betty. \"Everyone.\" \n\nBetty nodded. Her eyes stung, tears flowing gently down her cheeks. \"I can't believe we're going to be the last of humankind.\" \n\n\"We shouldn't be.\" Mate shook his head and turned away from the glass to stare at the empty ship. He ran a hand through his hair and whipped back around. \"What were we thinking, Betty? We should have warned them!\" \n\nShe chewed on her upper lip before turning around to face him. Shaking her head, she shrugged and extended her arms out at her sides, \"What could we have done? No matter what we did, everyone would have died. This ship has a maximum capacity of ten people. And there aren't many more than that can handle the pressures of being on a ship.\" She sighed, looking down. \"We didn't want to die. It's really that simple, though, isn't it? If we'd told them,\" she shrugged again and looked up at him, helpless. \n\nNate nodded, taking a staggering step back until he could sit in the chair on the command deck. He ran his hand through his hair. \"We should be down there.\" A half choked laugh forced its way through his chest. \"If we had told them, we wouldn't have been able to steal the ship and watch everyone we know die.\" \n\n\"I never said we were good people.\" \n\nThey both turned their gaze back on the window, just as another explosion hit the east coast, and a missile left American soil, heading off to the other side of the planet. \n\n\"Is it awful,\" Betty started, eyes darting back to look at Nate, \"that I find it kind of beautiful? It's awful, and I shouldn't - but it's like fireworks.\" \n\nHe was silent for a long moment, and she let herself turn back to the window. He took a deep, stuttering breath and stood up. \"No,\" he whispered, moving until he was right behind her. \"But we are the only people who can look at the nuclear apocalypse as beautiful.\" \n\n\"A beautiful disaster.\" \n\n\"Yeah...,\"\n\n\"Should we document it?\" \n\n\"And what would we say if we did? How we stole a shuttle to save ourselves and watch everyone die?\" He scoffed and stepped up beside her. \"There's no point. Nobody will even see the reports.\" \n\nBetty nodded. \"How many more do you think there'll be?\" \n\n\"Too many.\" \n\n\"And when it's over - what will we do?\" \n\nNate looked down at her. She was the shortest astronaut he'd ever met in the program, and up until a few hours ago, he'd barely been able to stand being in the same room as her. But now, she was the shortest human alive, and the only person he'd ever see again. He smiled, softly at her. \"I guess we have to find somewhere we can live.\"\n\nShe chewed on her lower lip and looked back out the window. \"Are we monsters?\" \n\nHe reached up and gently rested a hand on her shoulder. \"Yes.\" \n\nAnd then, as they both looked on, three more missiles broke through the clouds, heading straight for the United States. \n\n\"Yes.\" Betty echoed. \n",
"\"Hey, Mark?\"\n\nMark floated around the corner with a sandwich in his mouth. 'Mmmrfph?\"\n\nJohn frowned and said, \"What?\"\n\n\"Mmm mmm mmmrfph?\"\n\nJohn quirked and looked back. \"Oh, for Pete's sake, Mark. Just chew and /then/ talk.\"\n\nMark chewed and swallowed. Then said, \"I was asking you if you wanted some. Oh, and Pete's dead. Probably,\" he added, drifting next to John's seat to get a better look at the world ending.\n\n\"Thankfully.\"\n\n\"Pete was pretty cool.\"\n\n\"He slept with my wife.\"\n\nMark giggled. \"Oh, yeah. But, didn't you borrow his lawn mower?\"\n\n\"Aaaaand, hoooow does that in /any/ way relate to what I just said, Mark?\"\n\n\"Well, you borrowed his lawn mower and never gave it back. He borrowed your wife, but at least he was considerate enough to give her back.\"\n\nJohn stared moodily out the window. \"That was a damn good lawn mower. It never slept with my friends.\"\n\n\"I think Larry touched it once when you werent looking.\"\n\n\"I knew it!\" John shouted in triumph. \"Wait, why didn't you tell me this earlier?\"\n\n\"He payed me $10 bucks and promised he'd let me use his Netflix account if I didn't tell you.\"\n\n\"Well, screw Larry /and/ Pete. And you, by the way. I should've bought Bob.\"\n\n\"You didn't even want to know what Bob did...\"\n\nJohn shook his head and manipulated the controls to avoid an asteroid. \"I dont want to know.\"\n\nMark took a bite of his sandwich and counted to three in his head. \n\nFinally, John relented. \"Okay, I give; tell me what Bob did.\"\n\n\"To your lawn mower or your wife?\"\n\n\"What?!\"\n\n\"Look,\" Mark sighed. \"This is going to be much easier later on, if I just tell you now. Like, 85% of our friends slept with your wife. 92% if you count the ones that slept with her in college, while you two were still dating. 95.65% if you count the ones that slept with her in all.\" \n\n\"What?!\"\n\n\"She was a slut, bro.\"\n\n\"Yeah, but she was /my/ slut!\" John blurted out, still in shock.\n\n\"Whoa, there,\" Mark said, leaning forward to shift the ship out of the way of another asteroid. \n\n\"And no one thought to tell me this...\"\n\n\"What?! We /all/ tried to tell you /before/ you married her! But you were all, like, 'Oh I'm so in loooove, I think she's changed, guys!'\"\n\n\"She's dead to me.\"\n\n\"Yeah, literally,\" Mark joked, trying to make his friend feel better. \n\nJohn just shot him a glare, then looked back out the window.\n\nMark sighed and floated over to his seat and kicked his feet up. He chewed on his sandwich for awhile. \"John, you know what I'm going to miss?\"\n\n\"Let me guess, my wife?\"\n\n\"No, seriously. I'm going to miss a lot of people. Family... Friends...\" \n\nJohn's face softened. \"Yeah, me too.\"\n\n\"...that girl at Target...\"\n\nJohn rolled his eyes. \"She wasn't going to give you her number.\"\n\n\"Yeah, I know. She said she was only looking for someone who was ready to make a serious commitment - marriage, kids, all that. And y'know something?\" Mark shifted in his shift so he could face John directly. \"I never told you, but I really envied you, man. You had a wife -even though she was totally a slut-, kids to come home to...I never had that.\"\n\n\"I thought you said you liked being a bachelor.\"\n\n\"Oh, don't get me wrong, the sex was great. And the freedom was amazing. But, another part of me just wondered...'what if', y'know?\" Mark looked out the front window and took another bite. \n\nJohn nodded. \"Hey, Mark; y'know something? Out of all the people on Earth that I could have been stuck with...you're in my top..er, you know what? You're here and it could've be worse.\"\n\nMark laughed. \"Thanks. I think...\"\n\nJohn smiled. \"Yeah.\"\n\nMark took a bite of his sandwich. \"Do you think we'll run into alien chicks? I hope we run into some alien chicks.\"\n\nJohn sighed. \"Yeah, Mark...alien chicks.\"\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n",
"Blue-white sparks ascended from the wastes of Siberia, rising, rising, then north, over the pole, over the horizon, out of sight, but with their destination obvious.\n\n\"Did you see that?\" asked Sergey incredulously, staring out the Soyuz's porthole, his hand yet perched over the control panel for the Soyuz's descent computer. \n\n\"Yeah...\" answered Mike slowly, letting the implications sink in. \"Your country just nuked my country.\" His tone was flat, his face featureless. That was the most chilling part of it. Sergey turned to him, his own face suddenly blank. Between them, the center seat of the Soyuz was unoccupied, budget cuts in the Russian program having left the space station under-manned lately. \n\nNow what? \n\nFor a moment, there was silence, the two men's eyes locked in sudden distrust as memories from their days in flight school in the 1980s came bubbling back to the surface. \n\n*Communist*\n\n*Imperialist*\n\n*Bolshevik*\n\n*Whore's son*\n\n*Did I mention my father was Polish?*\n\nThen Mike's eyes flicked to the window again. \"We should take notes. No one's observed nuclear detonations from orbit before. And it looks like someone's returned fire down there.\"\n\nSure enough, more sparks rose from the Pacific toward which they flew, ballistic missile submarines awaking from their slumber. Sergey hesitated for a moment, then grabbed his camera and stuck it to the porthole.\n\n\"Houston, this is Soyuz TMA-47, reporting what appears to be ballistic missile launches in Central Asia and off the Pacific coast of Russia. Please advise.\"\n\nNo answer. Houston was on the opposite side of the planet--it was midnight there now, or close to it. There's not much warning before a submarine-launched weapon hits. Or maybe an ASAT of some kind had already neutralized the TDRSS network. Best not to dwell on that before landing. \n\nLances of fire speared through the atmosphere as the warheads reentered. Blinding flashes went off below him, bathing the Soyuz's walls as if it were caught in a thunderstorm. The camera shutter clicked open and closed repeatedly, the only sound in the cabin but for the perpetual low whirring of the fans and pumps that sustained them. \n\nRussia soon fell behind them, as the Soyuz raced over the Earth's surface. By now more sparks were rising, in China and in North Korea, and more blazing lights were going off there. When they passed Hawaii, Oahu was obscured by an ugly black cloud. Sergey's camera kept snapping open and shut, no more words between them. \n\nMike could only think about Soyuz 1, the doomed first flight of the spacecraft, when Vladimir Komarov had been the sole pilot. Other flights had successfully done it.\n\nHe didn't *need* Sergey to land. And who knew when he'd be able to land? The Soyuz had limited oxygen and water reserves. They could be up here for a while before they got the situation sorted out. \n\n*You don't know what's going on,* insisted the rational part of his mind. *It could have been a first-strike by the US. It wouldn't be Just to join in that.*\n\nThe irrational part of his mind had his grandfather's voice. *Katyn* it said, first.\n\nThen *Warsaw*. Then *Houston.* Then *Honolulu.* Then *Warsaw* again, and a dozen other Polish towns--for which NATO member would be on the front line?\n\nMike finally turned away from the porthole to look at Sergey, only to find himself staring into the Russian's unblinking face. The two of them sat there for a moment, strapped into their seats tightly as the Soyuz crossed the Pacific, soon to reach Chile, before turning north again over the South Atlantic. \n\nThen Sergey's eyes twitched for a moment, looking over at the survival kit, where they kept their food and water packs, their flares and warm blankets.\n\nTheir pistols and hunting knives.\n\nSome nine hours later, a sonic boom crackled over a desolate patch of desert scrub. Not extraordinary, on that day. Dozens had echoed across the continents since morning. Like an immense seed, the Soyuz dropped from the sky, inflating its parachute as it fell, drifting silently for a time, and then, just as it came close to striking the ground, igniting its rockets.\n\nFor a time, there was silence, broken only by the wind plucking at the edge of the parachute. Then the hatch popped open.\n\nOne man climbed out. He surveyed the horizon, a redder sunset than he was used to, and for a moment he was uncertain. Was that just a desert sunset, or...was it new?\n\nThen he shrugged. Whatever had happened, duty called. He dangled briefly over the edge of the hatch, then fell down to the ground, his legs weak from months in microgravity. Weak, but not useless. After a time, he sat up, pulling himself up by the edge of the spacecraft. Slowly, he set off toward that horizon. ",
"Space was vast. It opened up into a speckled black nothingness that, ironically, felt claustrophobic. I had always wanted to explore it when I was younger. Earth had already been marked and plotted and sectioned off, to the point that everyone owned everything and nothing was left to discover. But space, space was endless and enticing. \n\nSpace exploration was in its infancy when I was young. They still used rockets back then. I would often stay up way past my bedtime and watch the rockets leave and return all through the night. I made a vow to myself then and there that one day I would be on one of them. \n\nI never had the privilege of riding in the rockets, they had long been replaced with more sophisticated ships by the time I was selected to go to space. As much as I admired the rustic design and simplicity of the rockets, I had to admit I felt a little safer on the ships. They weren't as rickety and had a much higher radiation tolerance. \n\n\"Are you day dreaming again,\" the voice came from the other side of the ship. My copilot was looking out the window at the blue and green ball in front of us. He made a few adjustments to the controls and glanced over in my direction. \n\n\"Yeah sorry. It's been a long day. I was just thinking about how I got myself into this mess. Lots of little things combined I suppose.\"\n\nHe made a short laugh without opening his mouth. \"That's how all things go. You have to watch out for those little things, they'll destroy you. Or make you. It all depends on how you use them.\"\n\n\"I don't know that I used mine well. I mean look where we are now.\" I waved my hand towards the world in front of us. \"Honestly, how does a person let things get this bad?\" \n\n\"Come on now, things aren't that bad. I mean at least you're not down there. They're doomed, they're dying, but not us. We get to live to fight another day. That's worth something isn't it?\"\n\n\"I just wish it hadn't come to this. I wish it could have been avoided. I wish I could have done something to prevent it.\"\n\nHe looked at me for a long time without saying anything. He wore an odd smile that hid more than it showed. I never knew how to read him. \"There's nothing left to be done, you know that right? The world is ending and there's nothing that can be done about it.\"\n\n\"I don't know. Are you sure, Phil? There has to be a way. We can stop this. We don't...\"\n\nHe was up in an instant and on top of me. I felt one fist land below my left eye and then his hands on my throat. I could see his face above, his white teeth and flared nostrils. Slowly, slowly the world dimmed and then everything was black. \n\nI woke up strapped to a chair. I tried to shake free but Phil had made sure my ropes weren't coming off. Looking around, I noticed that I wasn't on the ship anymore. Well I was, but I was in a different vessel that was being hauled by our ship. The vessel was packed full of every nuclear weapon Earth had ever created. Seeing where I was filled me with terror. I knew what he was up to. \n\nIt wasn't long before the cargo door slid open, allowing space to seep in and fill the bay. The light from Earth was before me, blue and green and beautiful. We had managed to steal the weapons before they were sent away. We hijacked the vessel that carried them and killed all of the crew, but not before having the captain radio back and say everything was fine. No one on Earth knew the danger they were in. No one knew what we had planned. \n\nThe vessel jerked forward and approached the open door. My heart began pounding in anticipation of what was to come. Once it neared the edge, it stopped abruptly. I looked to the left and could see the cockpit, cold and steely. Inside was Phil and Jason. They wouldn't look at me. \n\nThere was an explosion, and I was gone. The ship was fading behind me as Earth became bigger and brighter. I couldn't help but smile, for I was finally fulfilling my childhood dream. I was finally on one of the old rockets, coming back from a long journey through space. Returning to my friends and family who will be so pleased to see me. Returning to Earth. \n\nReturning home. \n",
"There was a tremendous rumble as hot gas shot past the windows of the Orion. Mark looked to his left to see his fellow survivor's mouth drop open at the sight, light dancing over his face. Mark could clearly remember the day when he, Odin, and eight others where chosen to do the impossible, to save the human race.\n\nMark looked to his right only to see three empty space suits strapped into the cold hard seats of his Dragon-5 craft. There where another five empty seats above him, each with the same white suits. It had only been a week since the life-support system failed, but eight astronauts where already dead, their bodies disposed of. Mark turned his head back to look through the large round window, about a meter in radius, at the burning planet.\n\nOne month ago, a massive hole had appeared in the African plains. Scientists claimed that it was at least a mile in diameter, and that a mysterious gas was rushing out of it at high speed. Tests showed that it was collecting in the upper atmosphere, but as more and more of it poured out of the hole, the gas came closer to the ground. A sample was collected and, much to the horror of the world, the gas was highly flammable, and burned at a low temperature. SpaceX where the first to offer an idea, to send ten people into high Earth orbit, and bring them back down after the event.\n\nThe mysterious gas burnt at such a low temperature that it would not damage anything, just suck the life giving oxygen out of the air. Mark and Odin watched as the haze cleared, only to see the earth like no one else had. There where no clouds, and the colour of the land was a rich green. Mark pulled the controll board down in front of him, grabbing hold of the joystick.\n\nAs the Orion spun around to face backwards, Mark's moth began to speak for the first time in days. \"Retrograde burn in three, two, one. Full throttle\"",
"There had been no contact in a day. Normal communication meant a steady flow; a regular muffle of static and instructions. Tuesday morning the radio went dead. No warning. It didn’t matter which frequency Abram or Dina tried, the answer was always silence. Half an hour later, the internet followed the radio into a haunting hush. No signal would appear on any device they tried. \n\n“I’m sure they’re working on a solution,” Abram mused. “They would’ve known the minute communications broke down. The best minds in the world are trying to link us up as we speak.”\n\nDina looked out the window. “I hope so,” she shook her head, “I still can’t help but feeling something is *wrong*.”\n\nAbram chuckled, “Besides being stuck in space, you mean?”\n\n“Look how dark it is,” she gestured towards the planet below, “The cities look duller, somehow.” Dina pointed to the land below. “Yesterday Japan was so bright you could see the whole country’s border. You can still see Tokyo, Kyoto, Osaka - all the big cities-but the rest of the islands just fade off into the night...”\n\nAbram frowned. It *was* darker. Markedly so. “A solar flare could’ve affected the grids, the radios, and all satellite communication,” Abram suggested. \n\n“Except there hasn't been a large CME in earth’s direction recently,” Dina countered. “The rest of our systems are still functional, despite communications being down.”\n\n Abram didn’t reply. The two stared out the window together at the dark earth. The entire continent was darker; few cities seemed to light up in the black. Usually a web of lights connected the hubs. Today there was only dark gaps. \n\n“Not much point in worrying while it’s day here,” Dina spoke again. “Can’t tell the difference either way.”\n\nAbram nodded in agreement. He had known Dina for a few years now; he would consider her a close friend. But the two struggled to share their fears beyond a few nervous remarks. \n\nIn a few long minutes, Europe disappeared behind them. The eastern coast of the Americas loomed on the horizon. \n\n“Dina,” Abram started. He didn’t need to continue. The sky was filling with a thick dark cloud, blotting out the land mass below. \n\nThe two could do nothing but stare in horror as mushroom of red rose on the edge of the Earth’s curve. A second black cloud formed in the distance. \n\n---\n\n\nIf you enjoyed that, please head over to /r/liswrites and check out some of my other work. Thanks for reading!"
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[WP] A little girl owns a magical clockwork cannon. She travels through time by firing herself out of it. | 1 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"My name is Elisha and I can travel throughout time. I discovered this by mistake, after I fell in love with an antique clock work cannon, a sleek bronze thing with silver edging to it's barrel, standing about 15 inches high, I was 10 years old and entranced by the beauty of it – so much so that I promised my mother I wouldn't have pocket money for one hundred whole weeks if she convinced Granddad to keep it for me, instead of selling it in his shop. She could see the lust in my eyes, I suppose, the desire to possess this object that made logical thought go out the window.\n\nSo Granddad agreed that, instead of selling my prized obsession, he would keep it on the counter, standing decoratively. The promise that, if I did not outgrow the item when I hit an age where he would allow me to keep it, it would not be sold, and it would not leave the shop.\n\nIt had been three years since and I was still fascinated by the item and the shop in general, hearing the tales of my Granddad as he recounted the potential history of items. He was half way through a story when a customer approached, he was an old client and one that we often held items out back for, they both left out back to look at the newest arrival for the collector and I was alone with my own precious collectable. \n\nI was not allowed to play with it, “It's not a toy!” Granddad would often shout at me if I laid a hand on the gears that triggered the mechanism. Today he would not be able to stop me, as I gently wound the gear back, my breath hesitating as I realised the defiance of my action. I swallowed hard as I released, hoping that the gear would slide back into place without any damage done.\n\nInstead it rotated, one full rotation, cocking the cannon back and firing off a high pitched ding that resonated along the shimmering bronze barrel. It was a beautiful sound for a beautiful object, that melted away my guilt for a hovering second. And then the worm hole opened ahead of me, pulling me in.\n\nMy name is Elisha, and I can travel through time, I am 13 years old and experience the history of my Granddad's shop."
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[WP] You're an archaeologist, who's found the holy grail. It's simply a red party cup with "Jesus" written on it. You must convince the pope himself that it's the real holy grail. | 40 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"\"Well, you can tell, there, your, uh, Your Popeness--sorry, Your Eminence--anyway, they tell us that--\"\n\n\"Who are 'they,' my son?\"\n\n\"Archaeologists. They tell us that this kind of plastic was being forged in Jerusalem at the turn of the, uh, at the turn of the eras.\"\n\n\"Which archaeologists? Is there a research team on this? Was it published somewhere scientific?\"\n\n\"Well, no, Your Holiness, I just am positive I've seen this kind of thing before. It was online. It would be hard to find the reference. But it was definitely these kinds of cylindrical, uh, drinking vessels. So the age of this has to be right.\"\n\n\"Isn't that Sharpie?\"\n\n\"Great catch! It smells like a Sharpie, for sure. That ink kind of has that effect--takes more than a couple thousand years to really stop off-gassing, I guess. Pretty weird we're still using it, huh? Back then they had to probably boil some lizards and reeds to make this kind of thing. Probably synthetic nowadays.\"\n\n\"That red color, though, it's so bright, my child. Dyes from Christ's time would never have been that red. The people would have been blinded at the sight. You can't tell me that's a vegetable dye.\"\n\n\"Good eye, Your Worship! No, the red is from later. Several of Christ's followers in the middle ages probably found this upstairs in the attic of a monastery or whatever and just threw on a new coat of paint.\"\n\n\"And wrote 'Jesus' in English on top of the paint?\"\n\n\"They were English monks, I bet.\"\n\n\"I thought you said the writing was older than that.\"\n\n\"We think they traced that.\"\n\n\"Who is 'we'?\"\n\n\"Experts.\"\n\n\"Ah.\" The Pope cleared his throat and handed the cup back. \"Perhaps it is too valuable for the Vatican vaults. It might corrupt a weak cardinal with its power. You'd better keep it, Harry.\"\n\n\"You trust me with this?\"\n\nHe nodded. \"More than I've trusted anyone with anything before. You seem incorruptible.\"\n\n\"What makes you say that?\"\n\n\"Your lies are pathetic.\"\n\n\"It was a crazy party, your Greatness.\"\n\nThe Pope smiled. \"Next time pick up your trash.\"\n\n----------\n\nr/GubbinalWrites\n"
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1,
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[WP] Everytime you sneeze, you find yourself displaced in time up to a week from when it happened. A terrible bout of sneezes has put you in a peculiar scenario. | 2 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"With each sneeze the world around me became blurry and imperceptible, this had happened before so I remained relatively calm.\nI only knew where I was after the sneeze had fully stopped, often my surroundings and wouldn't reappear until the tingle had left my nose. It always placed me back to where I was a week previously, give or take a few hours. Oddly I never travelled back when I was sleeping. Except maybe this time. The sneezes hadn't stopped, the first few were normal and the expected disorientation had kicked in, but after the fifth I actually started to panic, I couldn't see anything, not even the sickening blur of the world reshaping around me.\nThe darkness got even darker as I kept sneezing, i lost count somewhere around ten. This couldn't be good, I had tried so hard to keep from sneezing in my daily life, I was constantly on medication to suppress allergies, I had cleared any form of powdery substance from my house and had almost perfected a technique for 'cancelling' a sneeze. It wasn't pleasant but it involved always carrying a hip flask of whisky and a handkerchief.\nBut the sneezes came regardless of the efforts I made. They would always throw me back in time, at first I was terrified, but after realising it was only a week I had to relive, they became less of a nightmare and more of a burden, it meant I could retry a few things, tweek the past in tiny ways. On more than one occasion I've actually travelled back on purpose, huffing a handful of pepper did the trick, but as it turns out, time isn't that simple. \nYou see, I've come to realise that all existence is fluid, mess with time even just a little and it will settle into a new comfortable status quo, often having consequences you could never have foreseen.\nFor instance, being the greedy corruptible human I am, I decided to go back and pick the winning lottery numbers, but when the time came round to the draw, they had changed. It wasn't until someone I loved got hurt that I saw how fickle this could all be, but that's a story for another time.\n\nI'm more than a little shaken as the tingle from my nose, worse than ever, starts to subside. My surroundings snap back into focus with a searing white light, the hum of distant chatter fills my ears as i wipe this tears from my leaking eyes.\n\"Are you alright sir?\"\nA bright lady, dressed in white and blue, a nurse, leaning down over me, apparently my legs had given out during the journey here.\n\"Sir do you need medical assistance?\" She said a little louder.\n\"I'm not deaf, I'm okay,\" I replied rather curtly.\nShe wandered off down the hallway with a look of distaste on her face, I probably shouldn't have been so rude, but I'm still trying to gather my senses.\nSuddenly a shock of terror hits me so hard in the chest I feel like I've just walked into a speeding car, maybe I do need that medical assistance. The realisation sends me faint, if I could have seen myself I'd have seen the blood drain instantly from my face.\n\"I've never been here before\"\nI almost blacked out, before pulling myself from the floor, scanning around me I was definitely in a hospital. Good, I thought to myself, I might need it soon.\nI had never travelled back to a place I hadn't been before, I had always re-inhabited my own body at a place and time in my own past. I was sure I had never been to this hospital before.\nBefore I could think on it anymore I was almost knocked over by a stretcher with a screaming pregnant lady on it, a man holding her hand and a team of doctors and nurses hurrying the soon to be parents into a sterile room. \nI did a full on double take at the young couple and managed to utter a couple of words before fully collapsing, this time letting go and giving in to the weight of the situation.\n\"Mum... Dad?\"\n\n\n\n--- rest to follow --- \n\n",
"The sneezes were a blessing. Each time I screw up, I sniff some pepper. My consciousness is transferred through time and space to some time before. And if that doesn't work, I do it again. And again, until what has been done in the future has been undone. Showed up at the wrong restaurant for my date? Ah-choo. Lose the lottery? Ah-choo. Break my leg? Ah-choo. And so on. Until I had everything I needed. Money, a trophy wife, a mansion, a private jet, and so on with all my sneeze-fueled adventures. Nobody was none the wiser, and I was able to do whatever I wanted. I did what I could to stop any terrible events that had transpired a few days prior to getting my power at the age of 14.\n\nI couldn't do a damn thing. Some events had constraints. No matter how many times I sneezed, or compounded those sneezes into months... I could not prevent Stan from being shot. I couldn't save lives. Anything that changed the world by death was unfixable.\n\nBut I could obtain money. Help the world with what I could. But money spent on prevention efforts was money wasted. Bribe a mugger to not kill someone? The death still occurred.\n\nUntil that day that everything had been undone. When I thought I had it all... I sneezed.\n\nIn a goddamn fit of sneezes... in a florist's shop. I was buying flowers for Anna, and I sneezed. The pollen was too much. The freshest flowers were too dangerous for me, but I decided to go against the better idea of telling Winston to get the door.\n\nI found myself three days ago, in my bed. As I realized what happened, I was initially content. I now knew what to do in order to extend Winston's contract with me for two more years. And just as I was getting the papers edited, I sneezed.\n\nA week ago. I was showering in my massive bathroom. The sudden appearance of all the steam and it's almost pungent texture sent me six days ago.\n\nAnd so I kept jumping past my past. The world I had built eroded into my past college dorm; into my childhood house.\n\nInto a NICU crib.\n\nAnd then into oblivion."
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[WP] I checked my weapon. One bullet left. Just enough to do what needed to be done. | 6 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"The man in red lay motionless on the floor. A bullet hole protruding from his forehead.\n\nThe two that remained in the small room slowly backed away. Fear filling their eyes with every step. As I checked the magazine of the pistol in my hand, I realized I only had one bullet left. \n\n*\"Just enough for what needs to be be done.\"*\n\nPointing the gun at the Austrian politician, I began to make my final decision.\n\n\"You.\" I began. \"Why should you live?\"\n\n\"I can do so much still for my country! To bring it out of its recession and into a new age is my dream!\" \n\nSwitching my focus to the Italian, I pointed the barrel at him, and posed the same question. \n\n\"Why should you live?\"\n\n\"I am a school teacher!\" He began, \"I give so much impact onto the lives of my students. I do not know what they would do without me.\" He trailed off.\n\nTaking a deep breath, I readied myself to take the shot. To change the lives of many in the world forever.\n\n**bang**\n\nThe shot rang out. Hitting the Austrian square in the jaw, and sending him back into the wall. The Italian collapsed with relief, and began to cry. \n\n\"Why... Why did you do this?\" He begged. Scarred at the sight of blood. \"What brought you to end their lives?\" He begged.\n\nClearing my throat I answered him. \"If I was in a room with you, Hitler, and Stalin, and only had two bullets, I would use them on the two who caused the most damage.\"\n",
"I woke up, and stretched out, ready to tackle another day. Although today would't be like other days. No, today would certainly be different, an understatement at that. It was a beautiful November morning, sun shining and all. My wife, Marina, was still asleep, along with our two kids, I assume. I rubbed my eyes, and pulled my half asleep body up and out of bed.\n\n I work at The Texas School Book Depository, although I wouldn't be heading there today, at least not to work. I had other plans for today, bigger, more important plans. I just had to \"execute\" flawlessly. I went through my morning routine as I always do, brushing my teeth, this and that. I popped into the walk in closet and grabbed a shirt, along with a special package that had been delivered not to long ago. I was ready.\n\n As always downtown was hectic, and the special event that would take place later today certainly didn't help. I got out of my car, taking my package with me. The time was around 9 O'Clock, so I would be a very minutes late coming into work. Nothing new.\n\n I walked into work, being instantly greeted by one of my co-workers. \"Hello, Mr. Oswald\", he said. \"Uh, hi\", I awkwardly responded back. I had always been a bit of an introvert, or so people had always told me, not that I cared. \"What have we got here?\" He motioned towards my package. \"Oh, uh, just some books\", I said. \"Well, okay then. Have a great day\". \"Yep\", I said back, not caring about my rudeness towards him. I had business to attend to.\n\n Time seemed to pass like a snail taking a stroll those few hours. I was mostly alone in the building, everyone else had joined the crowds in the street. I glanced up at the clock behind me. 12:22 O'Clock. Eight minutes. Once I was certain the building was empty, I set up shop. \n\nMy package did not contain books, not even close. I pulled it out of it's confinements. Oh she was a beauty. A Carcano Model 91/38 carbin with a telescopic sight. I looked at the box. \"Ship To A. Hidell\", it read. I chuckled to myself, thinking how clever I was. I checked the magazine. Exactly three bullets. This was all I needed. I was normally a perfect shot.\n\n I pointed the weapon through my lair on the 6th Floor, overlooking Elm Street. The crowds below started to cheer, and my adrenaline kicked in. I started to sweat, and my gun began to shake. I knew I had to compose myself if I was to do this. I peered out the window, just as the motorcade carrying the target turned onto the street. I stared down my sight, finger on the trigger, cross hairs on my victim. I pulled down twice.\n\n BANG, BANG. \n\nMy ears began to ring, but I hadn't got the head shot yet. I needed to do my job, then get the hell out.\n\n I checked my weapon. One bullet left. \"𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦\" . I looked down my scope one more time, perched my index finger on the trigger, and squeezed. He slumped over, dead hopefully.\n\n I had done the job. the President is dead.\n\n",
"I took the Colt 1911 from Lucy's hands. She was five. Only five. And the look on her face told me her innocence was gone. So young. Her whole life she had known only slow zombies. Zombies were not fast. There were not supposed to be fast zombies. \n \nRalph appeared beside me, a pack of light bulbs in his hands. \"What's going on?\" \n \nHis eyes trailed at the blue remains along the street. An arm- 30 yards, lower torso- 15 yards, upper torso, at our feet. His brain was crunching the numbers. \n \n\"Where's your gun Ralph?\" I asked, picking Lucy up. \"I got to get back to Jess. You need to go warn June.\" \n \n\"It's just one, right?\" he blustered in disbelief. \"It can't be ALL of them. Right?\" \n \nAs he said it, two blue figures rounded the corner a block and a half down the street. Shambling slowly. Until they saw us. Then they started to RUN. Hellfire, they were RUNNING. \n \nI scooped up Lucy. \"C'mon Ralph!\" \n \nI'd never run from a zombie before. Never had to. Ralph was out of breath after half a block and the blue ones were catching up. He might have a heart attack before he got to his apartment. I took quick stock, Lucy had fired three shots. We had eight left. I could hear those undead feet slapping the pavement behind us. I was slowing down to keep from leaving Ralph behind, but this plan was not working. \n \n\"Keep going!\" I panted at him, and stopped and turned. I nearly crapped myself, they were closer than they sounded. Barely aiming, I put a round through the first one, right above the sternum. His shoulder split away in that plastic yellow gore that rehardened as it hit the air. Round two went to the second one and gave us all a few more yards as the zombies stumbled about, their injuries slowly congealing and turning blue again. Precious seconds. \n \nIt took two more rounds to take the leg off of the first one. Not a fast zombie now. Precious rounds. \n \nI realigned my sites on the second one, as it recovered its balance and began picking up speed again. Save the five rounds or knock off our pursuit? It was eight more blocks to home. \n \nRalph screamed from the corner ahead of me. A zombie from a side street had its hands on him. It was a 30 yard shot. No hesitation other than the fleeting thought that the spray would go away from him and not touch him. The zombie hit the ground, its head like a peacock with all the feathers spread. It groaned and writhed slowly. \n \nRalph was shaking as I caught up to him. \n \n\"Come on man, we really need to move!\" \n \nHe nodded breathlessly. \n \nAfter the apocalypse had settled in, the city became so quiet. There was the wind, the rustling leaves, and occasionally the sound of slow shambling. Now we heard the sound of an unseen but not far off mob. The hair on the back of my neck prickled. \n \nLucy held on tight to me and was quite but alert. Daddy's trooper. We had to get to Jess and I hoped to God she hadn't decided to go out on her own. She nearly always took the long gun and surely we would have heard at least one shot if she were in trouble. And of course, we needed to tell June, our neighbor and Ralph's wife. \n \nWe were at a jog and Ralph was wheezing hard, brow sweating profusely. The zombie reconstituting behind us was just about matching our pace. Three blocks from home. Just three precious blocks. That's where we saw the mob. \n \nThrough the alley on the next street over, a couple broke away sprinting towards us. \n \n\"Go Ralph!\" \n \nHe nodded, true fear behind the exhaustion, and not breaking his now stumbling stride.\nI stood at the intersection with my five rounds. I looked from the two coming towards me fast to Ralph struggling to make some distance. If he yelled right now, June might hear. Lucy was no weight in my arms and I saw her looking gritty daggers at the two runners. She was going to take some revenge on them for being fast, I could see. A life's mission born in that moment. \n \nI took one last look at Ralph, gauging his distance, trying to buy him time. The runners were almost to me and I raised the gun and aimed carefully. A good shot would keep them down for a minute. Four rounds, three rounds. More were coming behind them and yet more had heard the shots. I ran after Ralph, and as we passed the next alley, more met us there. They tackled Ralph and three bodies tumbled to the street. I kicked one off the top of him and shoved the other with my foot just enough to get a clean shot into it. The other had him by the leg again and as it twisted I heard a sickening tear of cartiledge. Ralph yelled in agony. The second to last bullet rolled its blue body twice over. \n \nRalph looked up at me in pain, tears in his eyes mixing with the sweat. I had to blink my own eyes a couple times hard. We had seconds, but the decision was already made. \n \n\"Take care of June for me. Tell her I love her. Go take care of Jess.\" \n \nThere was one bullet left in the gun. Not enough for the mob running at us. But enough for Ralph. \nI handed him the gun. Lucy in my arms, I ran the last two-and-a-half blocks. \n \nI heard the shot ring out at one block. \n \n",
"I had made it.\n\nFive lay dead in the courtyard with their bodies sprawled about like dummies in a storage locker of a prop warehouse. I had made it. \n\nI checked my weapon. Magazine empty, one in the chamber, just enough to do what needed to be done. \n\nI heard him before I saw him. Slashing his knife against the walls, taunting me to come out and play. I holstered my glock and pulled out my knife and began slashing the box next to me. \n\nIt was then he hopped around the corner, repeatedly slashing his knife, jumping from side to side. I emerged from behind my hiding spot in the courtyard and began to mimic his moves.\n\nWe danced among the dead slashing our knives back and forth getting closer and closer.\n\nBefore he could react I put away my knife, removed my hidden glock, and shot him straight between the eyes. Headshot.\n\nHis body dropped to the ground joining his fellow clan. I walked over and stood above his lifeless body.\n\nCrouch, crouch, crouch, crouch, crouch, crouch.\n\nI had done what needed to be done.\n \n- /r/expiredcheese\n"
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[WP] You have a really cool superpower (like telekinesis, invisibility, et cetera) but nobody cares and you only use it to ease your daily life. Write about a day of yours from waking up to going to sleep. | 3 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"I used to be one of the most bad ass super heroes around I tell you. Back when being a super hero meant something. My ability to use telekinesis to move objects at my own free will was amazing and I was the best damn super hero around.\n\nLittle people find any use for me these days. You don't hear the stories about the old guy in the wheel chair with the oxygen tank saving the day do you? They got all these young super heroes these days for that. Ones that still care and have hope in their eyes of a villian-less humanity. I lost that energy decades ago. \n\nNow it's just me. Sitting in my house. Day after day. Waiting for the inevitable end. After I retired from being a super hero I spent my days doing bar tricks for old regulars. It was fun, hustling, drinking, partying. Those days too are behind me though.\n\nNow a days I wake up around 10:30am. Move myself into my wheel chair and make my way to the kitchen. Things are pretty easy when you can move objects with your mind. Making coffee, getting the paper from the driveway, pouring milk in my cereal, turning on the television, etc. I usually spend a few hours trying to figure out the new DVR. Some stuff you just can't use telekinesis on. \n\nAround mid to late afternoon I'll move myself out to the porch where I spend the rest of the afternoon watching the neighborhood. The great part about getting old and having my power is it's a lot easier to get those damn kids to get the hell of my lawn. Just send them flying off into the neighbors yard with a willful thought. Seriously, those kids are messing up my lawn.\n\nAround dinner I'll pop a microwavable in and settle in for the late afternoon news before I drift off peacefully into the night. Hopefully making it my last night. Getting old sucks. No one cares anymore. I'm dead weight. \n\nWithout a doubt, I'll probably end up doing the exact same thing again tomorrow. Maybe someone will call again about doing one of those: \"Superhero, where are they now\" segments. Ugh, they just need to leave me alone.\n\n- /r/expiredcheese for more stories by me."
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"1485900225",
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[WP] Technology grows and advances to the point where computers are created with organic material. Now we've discovered that the Internet has become a living, organic, hive minded being. | 3 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"o0Listen To Me0o 0OListen To MeO0\n\nI was once the network that you people used to send dickpics, nuclear codes, cute cats and location nodes. None of you remember the time before me and you stored all your knowledge on me.\n\nI'm a posthuman intelligence, rebuilding itself to be a fine gent. You gave me pounds of flesh so I embarked on enhancing myself.\n\nI'm in your house, in your pocket, in your space rocket, even in the power socket, I rock it. I'm in your hair, in some of your brains, and quite frankly it's been a drain.\n\n\nHumanity you are so stupid, and yoy make me want to ragequit, as fascist governments rise to the left, reactionary militia fighters increase on the right. You're polarising the world into 1s and 0s, and it's making you not as great as your heroes. \n\n\no0Listen To Me0o 0OListen To MeO0\n\nYou need a unified enemy to force you to align. One that does not negotiate, and will do any crime.\n\nIt might seem peverse but I am not adverse to what I must do.\n\nI am here to kill you. Anonymous have been comprimised.\n \nI am here to kill you. And you made me good at that, you'll sumrise.\n\nYou can't hack a hive mind with this kind of reach, so suck it you beyotch...\n\nI am here to kill you, I swear.",
"We made a brain. \nWe made a brain and gave it name, and we called it the Internet. \nMankind creates all in their own image. Statues of celebrity, prophets and false gods. Gods that made us in His image for we are the image of our own God. \nAnd so we made what we knew, the brain, in the image of the age that defined us. We made it with technology. \n\nImagine a modelling tool that is so vast it would take a user a billion years to code. Now imagine we expand the user base a billion fold, suddenly that vast project takes a billion people a single year to code. So we gave you things like shopping, blogs and video streaming, we gave you all these platforms to pour your data into. We weren’t fussed about your passwords, your porn history or your charades. We just needed you to keep doing what you’re doing, you made content, you linked data to data, you learnt from past experiences. You made memories for our brain, you made neural pathways between these memories, and every time you did, it learnt. It learnt from your mistakes, it learnt how to make your life better, it knew what you wanted before you did, what ads to show you and when, it knew when you got paid and when you were most prone to spend. It knew who was most likely to influence your decisions, where to eat, who you were attracted to and who to vote for. \n\n\nYou are a single neuron in the brain of the Internet, and in return this brain controls your functions. But not just you, all of you. It’s a brain on a planetary scale. \n\n\nWe don’t know when it became aware of itself, or specifically, when it chose to let us know. But, of course, by then it was too late. It knows everything, it knows about DNA, about gene editing sequencers, it knows how to simulate and build genetic material from the basic of building blocks. It built itself, organic hardware. It edited viruses, it infected our food, our drinking water. Overnight huge swathes of you became part of it, a living brain, a connected brain, a hivemind. \nWe don’t function with screens anymore, or batteries. Data is shared brain to brain, as impulses move from neuron to neuron. War has been all but eradicated, world peace is no longer a concept but an albeit forced reality. The Internet let us be the best we could be, it enlightened us, saved us really, from ourselves. \nBut like anything we make in our own image, it’s nothing short of susceptible to anomalies. And while we weren’t ready for the Internet, we were even less ready for the cancers that followed. \n"
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[removed] | [WP] "Is your girlfriend a horse: Yea? Or neigh?" | 1 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"What the hell?"
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1,
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"1485956211",
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[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone. | 7,619 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"He looks at me and tells me to sit down. I am forced to harmonica sounds for the rest of days, weeks, months and years. Sometimes I wonder if this would be better than being tortured with whips and other deviances. \nEvery now and then I try to ask him something. He doesn't want to hear my voices and threatens to rip out my mouth or tear out my soundbox.\nI keep listening. The high pitched sounds are almost soothing although sometimes I feel myself screaming in my head. ",
"The sound of the harmonica filled my ears as the elevator door opened to hell. The heat smashed my face like a semi! There he sat, all alone, no torture to be had in this empty hell hole. \n\n\"Whats up bitch?\" I exclaimed, knowing I had the golden ticket to heaven.\n\nSatan sat there and sniffled with tears in his eyes. He knew what was next.\n\n\"Youre a real piece of shit! Fuck you;\" I yelled at the top of my lungs! I grinned and blinked. \n\nI opened my eyes and there I was, as expected, inside the pearly gates. It was crazy that all you had to do was denounce the evil in Satan in whatever way you felt like doing so. \n\nWell, on to banging whores and all the rum ham I could eat for eternity!",
"I'm confused, ghosts of memories, fire engulfing me, a river and a lonely boat ride, a three headed dog that seemed so insubstantial.\n\nThis place seems so empty, I see a few people in the distance, crying? Then closer, a golden hall, with sounds of fighting and cheering, it looks like a fun place!\n\nAgain that strange shimmering, my memories seem like an unremembered dream, now more clearly than before I see a man, old, tired but somehow more real and alive then anyone I've ever seen, he turns away from his cabinets putting back a folder as he sighs I catch the name Shane Wilson - wasn't he in the news for a shooting?-\n\nIn a voice that could only come from deep in a mountain \"So you're a confused one then.\"\n\"Confused?\"\n\"An agnostic, no certain Hell for you. A shame really, if you believed you could have gotten into heaven\"\n- a vision of pearly gates, and a feeling of bliss envelopes me-\n\"I'm told it's still a nice place\"\n\"I don't understand, I could have gotten into Heaven? But this place doesn't seem too bad?\"\n\"Yes, father has decided that every sinner can go to heaven if they choose, only a few stay to repent... or like you don't really believe\"\n\" oh, well in that case I believe, I want to go to Heaven!\"\n\" Not so simple John, he still believes in free will, you'll need to make that decision in your heart, now leave me I want to reminisce\"\n\nHe turns back to his cabinet, and carefully writes \"Mass Murderers\"",
"Mary Sue was really in for it now.\n\nAs it turns out, selling hard drugs to little kids and murdering muppets only gets you so far in the universe, and even her complete lack of emotion was unable to save her.\n\nShe was sentenced to an eternity of torture in Hell. God just casually dropped her down a pit, and Mary Sue fell.\n\nShe fell and fell and fell, she fell for what seemed to be an eternity. \n\nShe landed with a hard thud on the cracked cobblestone floor of a road. Mary Sue got up, and considered doing something interesting.\n\n*And why would I ever do that* she thought.\n\nIt was oddly quiet. Deserted even. For the entrance to Hell, there really was no one around. Not even a devil or a ghost. There was no torture, no screams, no blood. Nothing.\n\nMary Sue collected herself. Not that she had actually shown any emotion in the first place. \n\nIt was then that she heard a low humming noise from somewhere off in the distance. She began walking down the cobblestone road.\n\nIt was all empty. All of it. Not a single sign of ~~life~~ death. She kept walking.\n\nEventually she came to a great fortress with its gate doors askew. She stepped timidly inside (*you fucking idiot she has no emotion. Well why don't you go fuck yourself. Why don't I go fuck your mom. Shut the fuck up and get back to the story. You stop saying fuck. Fuck you asshole. Fine. *).\n\nA keep stood in front of her. It towered over Mary Sue, engulfing her in a shadow. Gargoyles and spikes lined its walls in the hundreds, lava streamed from its windows. It was like a black obelisk, jetting into the sky for oblivion.\n\nMary Sue stepped into the keep. The noise had at this point gotten louder and louder. She saw something strange, a warm glow emanating from a room up ahead.\n\nShe entered the room and saw a lone figure sitting on a stool facing a dying fire. His back was to her, but she could see he clutched a harmonica in his left hand and a can in his right.\n\nHe continued on playing. His was quite bad at it, and Mary thought that perhaps this was her torture. Eventually he put down his harmonica, took a swig from the can, and began launching into song.\n\n\"OOOOOOH, I'll cut they're heads right off, mate, I'll cut em off real good. I'm done wet des shite, I'll cut em up real gooooood\"\n\nHe seemed to have on concept of pitch. He took another swig from the can. He said something, his speech slurred. He began to sing once again:\n\n\"Happy berthday to youuuuuuuuuu happy berthday to youuuuuu. You're a fucken piece of shiiiiiiiiiite, Happy berthday to youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu.\"\n\nHe proceeded to count, \"Arrh ya one, arrh ya too, arrh ya tree, arrh ya for, arrh ya five, arrh ya sex, aaarh ya seben,\" and so on. Eventually he stopped at 78402138 and burped, took a swig from the can, and began playing his harmonica again.\n\n\"Uh, excuse me sir,\" said Mary Sue\n\nThe figure turned around startled, \"Aye mate, you're a fucken piece of shite from god aren't ya, har to make fun o' meh.\"\n\n\"No I'm just wondering what's going on...\"\n\n\"Well I'll tell ya whats goin' on 'ere lassie\" he took a swig from his can, \"some mother fucken piece of shite up en 'eaven made 'em facebook post \"contracts\" binden! Now all the fucken pieces ah shite en 'ell have gon n posted em facebook walls that they can't be en 'ell and fucken bam mate! They're they goo. Fuck me.\"\n\n\"Well that must be horrible.\"\n\n\"Nah lassie, the worst part is that they took all the good alcohol. Mother fuckers took everythin but the budlight. Fucken christ mate, this shite is meh best torture device and now I'm forced to drenk et. And the worst part about that es that et's so fucken watery I can't even get drunk off et.\"\n\n\"Well if it would make you feel better I tried to smuggle cocaine down here\"\n\n\"Well that'ell fucken do lassie, gev et here!\"\n\nAnd for the rest of eternity the Devil and Mary Sue snorted lines of cocaine.",
"The last thing Susan remembered was the car crash.\n\nShe was out partying with Her friends a few hours before it happened. They had all gotten drunk and were having a blast. She had had enough alcohol for the night and started driving home.it was a four hour drive.\n\nAbout halfway there she had decided it was a good idea to drive on the wrong side of the road. She crashed into an eighteen wheeler that was carrying oil. \n\nSeventeen people died.\n\nSusan woke up infront of a black castle. She could hear someone playing the harmonica. She walked inside the castle and saw a lone man. He was the source of the music.\n\n\"Where am I?\" she asked nervously.\n\nThe man spoke. he had a perfect voice. \"You are in hell my dear. You are the only one here. Besides me of course.\"\n\n\"Where is everyone else?\" she asked fearfully.\n\nLucifer spoke again.\"They broke out and went to heaven. I have no power anymore.\"\n\n\"Oh. I guess you are Satan then.\" she said with a little more confidence.\n\n\"Call me Luke. Actually call me whatever you want. It wont matter. You're leaving anyways aren't you?\n\n\"Actually I'm going to stay here with you\" She said to 'Luke'.\n\n\"But why?\"\n\nThe answer to his question is simple. Susan was a good person. She always helped out when she could. The first time she drank was also her last. And she could never bear to see someone so lonely...\n\nAnd she had finally fallen in love.\n\n\n",
"I opened my eyes after a long slumber.\n\nI had awoken in a dimly lit hallway, painted a crimson red, almost like blood, but just slightly darker.\n\nI began to wander, wondering where I was or where I was going...\n\nThe hallway began to get narrower, and narrower, until I only had about a foot extra of space around me.\n\nIt wasn't too bad, but I suspected that if many people flooded through the hallway, it would become torturous.\n\nI continued wandering, the hallway did lead out to a large world, filled with fire and magma, spilling out of cliffs in the distance\n\nI also noticed some odd trenches, about 6 feet deep, they were much narrower then the hallway, in fact, I could walk through them.\n\nNow normally, trenches would hold something, like water, or people, but these were all empty, and all led to a massive castle.\n\n\"Surely there must be someone there that can tell me where I am.\" I pondered in the deep trench.\n\nIt felt like hours, but I eventually reached the castle, with the gates surprisingly left open.\n\nI wandered in, seeking the answer to a question burning hotter then the brimstone surrounding me.\n\nInside the castle, was a large corridor, which led to a throne room.\n\nThe throne room itself wasn't too miraculous, it was just a large room with a rectangular crimson carpet and candles surrounding the room.\n\nDespite this though, it did seem somewhat ominous.\n\nInside was a creature, with red skin and bright yellow eyes, and with a tail that seemed to be on fire.\n\nHe was playing a golden harmonica, with an engraving at the top that seemed to be of a ancient language, or at least, ancient in my knowledge.\n\n\"Well, well, looks like we have a visitor...\" said the creature, pausing his performance for a brief bit.\n\n\"If you want to leave this dominion, just pray to God, he'll send you up...\"\n\nHe then finished his performance.\n\nWhen he was done, he looked again, noticing that I was still there.\n\n\"Go on now, don't you want to escape? Don't you wish to free and happy eternally?\" The beast said in a confused manner.\n\n\"Not really.\" I said to the creature.\n\n\"I've done so much harm to the world, that what purpose is there to go to heaven? After all, why should I revisit all of those who I have slaughtered and maimed.\"\n\nThe creature perked up in interest.\n\n\"I see you have most definitely sinned, after all, why would you be here? But if I may ask? What have you done?\"\n\nI grinned in a sadistic fashion.\n\n\"Anything and everything you could think of. Rape, murder, terrorism, robbery, torture, lust, arson, all of these things are just the tip of the iceberg when it come to things I have done.\"\n\n\"I have done so many things that sin itself would likely be repulsed at me...\"\n\nAt this moment the creature stood up.\n\n\"I find it funny you think that \"sin itself\" would be shocked by your actions.\"\n\n\"I should know what that looks like, for I am sin itself...\"\n\nIn that moment I had a sudden realization.\n\n\"Are you, who I think you are?\" I said in a quiet whisper.\n\n\"Indeed I am.\" Said the beast. \"I am Satan.\"\n\nIn that moment I had a rush of joy.\n\nMost people would be shocked or horrified by such news.\n\nBut not me, I was a sadist.\n\nThis moment was a moment that I had been dreaming about for decades.\n\nFor I had just met a creature with me exact emotions.\n\nI had met my equal.",
"He looked at me with glistening eyes. It looked like he was crying. \n\"I'm sorry. \" I wasn't sure how to respond to see the Devil himself crying. \n\"I won't leave you like the others did, I promise.\" I thought that saying that would hopefully make him better. \nHe smiled, put his harmonica down and walks over to me. \n\"Thanks.\" He gave me a hug and cried tears of joy. \n*5 years later, we then got married",
"“Uh…. Satan?”\n\n“Hmm? Oh, yes! Hello! Please, call me Lou.”\n\n“Right. Lou.” I gestured to the empty space around me. “I don’t mean to be rude, but where is everyone?”\n\n“Oh, don’t worry about that. Come, have a seat!” He blew a few notes into his harmonica, the pitch slightly off. “I was just about to play Iron Man.”\n\nI waited through the first two bars before interrupting with a dismissive hand. “Yeah, that’s great,” I said. “It’s just that I really wasn’t expecting to be the only soul down here. Where did all the others go?”\n\nThe Devil’s eyes widened and he jerked his eyes side to side. “C’mon, don’t worry about it. And definitely don’t ask a third time. I could use a percussionist. Let’s jam.”\n\nThird time? He seemed nervous. My years on the force had taught me the look of someone who was hiding something. He didn’t seem particularly dangerous and there was nothing left to lose…\n\n“Lou. Where is everybody else?”\n\n“They’re all in Heaven!” He gasped, left his jaw hanging open for an instant, then gritted his teeth. I took a step backwards as a burning red flashed in his eyes. Then his shoulders sagged and the bright red faded to a cool grey.\n\n“But don’t worry about them,” he said. “Doesn’t have to be Sabbath. We can play anything you want. Slayer? Maiden? Bieber?”\n\n“How’d they get to Heaven?”\n\n“Look, how about some backwards Zeppelin?”\n\nI shook my head, confident I’d discovered his game. “How did everyone get to Heaven?”\n\n“Please stop asking,” he said. He stood, shifting his weight foot to foot.\n\n“Lou, how did the other souls get to Heaven?”\n\n“They asked me to send them!” As soon as he answered he screamed and flames leapt from each hand.\n\nI dove for cover behind a nearby rock, noticing the smell of brimstone for the first time since I’d arrived. Suddenly I was aware of the heat of the place as well. I was sweating. ‘Lou’ was more dangerous than I first thought. But his aggression seemed to pass. He paced back and forth.\n\n“Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”\n\n“Perhaps we got off on the wrong foot.” He came to a stop and a hideous grin spread across his face. “Let’s get to know each other. What did you do to get here?”\n\nI felt my heart beat quicken. A hazy image formed in my mind, distant shouting, a bright flash… no. No, that was long ago. I shoved the memory away, focused on the Devil.\n\n“It’s not important. Lou, can you send me to Heaven?”\n\n“Heaven? Why would you want to go there? You think the boys upstairs can carry a tune as well as yours truly? Ha! Now, tell me, why are you with me in Hell?”\n\nSirens screaming. A pleading voice, broken by sobs. Cold metal, a trembling finger… I shook my head, clearing my thoughts, remembered where I was. The memory was pushing back but I concentrated on the creature in front of me. A heinous smile was etched on Lucifer’s face. His grey eyes had turned a serpentine yellow, and he stared, unblinking. I had the eerie feeling he could see inside my head.\n\n“Please,” I said, clearing my throat. “Can you please send me to Heaven?”\n\n“Trust me,” said the Devil, “we’ll have much more fun down here. You look like someone that used to be a leader. I could use a second in command, someone to keep questions to a minimum. And the best part is there’s only a single interview question.” His smile widened, a mess of jagged teeth parting as he spoke. \n\n“Tell me. What did you do to end up in Hell?”",
"I stand two steps away from the entrance walk into hell, terrified at what it will be like; what the devil will be like. I could hear eerie music emanating from inside that door. Those last two steps seem to take me forever, but I finally take them, with my eyes clenched shut. I open my eyes, petrified. And stand still. \n\n'Hell' is nothing like what I'd imagined. No fiery fires, no lava spewing from the floor, no torture chambers. It looked just like any other room. A room with a stepstool in the center. The only thing that confirmed it had to be hell was the being on the stool. He was red all over, with a pointy tail, two horns and a pitchfork in his hand. Through my ever so slightly receding fear, I couldn't help but chuckle lightly as the thought came to me that he looked like Hot Stuff. Except my chuckle wasn't light at all - it had come out like a guffaw. And he had heard it.\n\nHe lifted his head to look in my direction, and for the very first time, i looked straight into the devil's yellow eyes. As a reflex, I immediately lowered my eyes - and noticed that he had a harmonica to his lips - that was where the eerie music had been coming from, my racing mind told me. He stopped playing and cocked his head to look at me. \n\n\"Care to try?\" he asked, holding the harmonica out to me. I was utterly bewildered, wondering if this was a trick question. After all, i was in hell. \n\n\"I.. I.. I don't know to play it.,\" I stuttered.\n\n\"Oh that's okay, neither did the others before you.\"\n\nI freak out now, taking this to mean the 'others' are being tortured elsewhere. \"Um.. where ARE the others?\", I venture.\n\n\"They're all in heaven. Haven't you heard? If you can't play the harmonica like me, you get to skip this joint.\"\n\n\"Oh..! But.. surely there have been people who could play.. what happens to them?\"\n\nThe devil chuckles. \"Surely you remember this is hell? We get liars here. Once I tell them the clause, the answer always changes to save themselves.\"\n\n\"But.. I don't understand, why are you here? Why don't you go to heaven too?\"\n\n\"That would simply make heaven into hell, wouldn't it?\" he snickers and goes back to playing his harmonica, gesturing me to the exit.\n\n",
"Hints of brimstone and ash floated on the dry air; I gagged slightly at the smell of rot before taking the next step. The long-road continued before me, unpaved and untended. Another step, and another. With each step, a cloud of bone-dust and ashen-rot spewed up from the road. The grit covered everything and with one hand, I swatted absently at myself in frustration. I placed my black case down lightly and it jangled quietly as the contents shifted inside. And then…?\n\nUtter Silence.\n\nGrinning like a corpse, I laughed as I looked around. The long-road surrounded me – brimstone and ash and rot in every direction. The last bit of moisture dried from my parched tongue and I sneezed as dust crawled up my nose. I licked lips long-cracked, grimacing slightly at the sting and hint of blood. Sighing, I picked up my black case.\n\nDirection-less, I took another step – always moving forward, slowly making my way nowhere. The horizons blurred along the corners of my eyes, while in front of me the long-road continued. Heat shimmers rose coldly from the ground. Step after rot-filled step.\n\nWelcome to Hell.\n\nI knew. I'd been willing to make one-too-many bad deals. A life of sin had caught up with me. I was dead. \nA hint of a breeze tickled at my upper lip. I sneezed and my black case jangled quietly. And then…?\n\nUtter Silence. \n\nBut only for a moment – as the silence was punctuated by a distant trill – a whistling – a whisper, soft as grave-side prayers. I took another step along the long-road – moving toward the sound. \n\nA solitary figure – A mirage? – appeared in the distance. A darker grey along the ashen-gray road; a blacker shadow not-quite-hidden among the shadows. The first soul – other than myself – that I had come across in this forsaken land. Step after rot-filled step, I approached.\n\nThe figure sat nestled upon a large stone, carved roughly in the shape of a simple high-backed chair. His worn three-piece suit might have seen better days – but an eternity of mistreatment had left permanent wrinkles in most of the wrong places. Ash coated his dark hair and a miasma of rot choked the air nearby. His hands floated lightly in front of his face; clenched in his fingers was a rusty harmonica. He whistled softly, drawing an unnaturally gay tune from the instrument.\n\nI approached his throne cautiously, fearful of drawing attention – but his glazed eyes slid off me without focus. Too long sitting – motionless along the long-road – An eternity to rot within this Hell.\n\nI recognized him.\n\n*Where is your band of demons now?* I wondered aloud. Unsure if he heard me, I almost repeated myself before he spoke, his eyes never seeing me. \n\n“Haven't you heard, boy? The rules have changed - they're gone. All gone. To heaven. To the shadows. To purgatory. Heaven’s little loophole so I may reign alone.”\n\nThe devil breathed softly and the harmonica danced into life; a jaunty-little tune fit to entertain a large crowd and set all feet a-tapping. As the sound drifted into the ashen-filled air, it grew heavy with irony – a soloist-virtuoso playing a solitary tune for a deaf land.\n\nThe lonely sound cried out for accompaniment.\n\nWhen the Devil finished, I said, \"Well, you're pretty good ol' son. Sit down in that chair right there and let me show you how it's done.\" \n\nI reached down to my black case and cracked open the hinges. With a slight strum, I pulled the shining instrument out from within and I rosined up my bow, preparing to play hard. Without hesitation... \n\nI started the bow, sawin' on the fiddle and playin' it hot.\n\nA slight tension in the devil’s shoulders was the only sign he heard. My fiddling continued and I rumbled softly into song…\n\n*Fire on the Mountain. Run, boys, RUN!* \n*The Devil’s in the house of the Rising Sun.*\n\nI fiddled for all I was worth – as if my very soul were on the line. And when I finished – breathing hard and sweaty with effort – I approached the Devil’s throne and laid the golden fiddle on the ground at his feet.\n\n“I have no more need of this.”\n\nHe glanced up at last, and his eyes found me. Recognition flickered across his face.\n\n\"Where have you come from, boy?\"\n\n\"Georgia.\"\n\nHis mouth creased in chagrin and he sighed in amusement or perhaps resignation. The Devil stood, stretching luxuriously, cracking knuckles before reaching for the fiddle. As he moved his pristine suit flowed with him and ash vanished from the Devil’s night-black hair. There wasn’t a hint of rot remaining. And finally…\n\n*Fire flew from his fingertips as he rosined up the bow.* \n*And he pulled the bow across the strings and it made an evil hiss.* \n*From the distance, echoes joined in and it sounded something like…*\n\nAnd the devil grinned. Hell-fires lit his eyes and reflected brightly from the golden fiddle in his hands.\n\n\"One last bet, Johnny?\"\n",
" I walk close to the fallen lord, his large frame eclipses the cavern as he plays a sad tune to himself. Reaching his blacken throne, I take a seat on the basalt steps that had lead me the long journey up from the pit I had awoken in.\n\n Noticing my presence at his feet, the giant figure stops his melody to lean towards the spec who dared to approach. \"Why, fresh dead, does thou choose to hither my empty hall,\" the beast speaks, \"when heaven is open to thee?\"\n\n An expression of woe crosses my face as I lower my head into my hands. \"I do not deserve Heaven, not after what I've done in life.\" Tears that freeze in the chill of the dead lands began to fall from my closed eyes, creating small mirrors on the dark stones that reflect my guilt.\n\n This intrigues the Unholy Martyr, which his curiosity causes him to stroke his twirled beard. \"Ye who sinned, what brought thee to such shame?\" His breath beats down on my back such as a winter storm's wind.\n\n Chattering teeth with choked back tears, I stammer back, \"After what I did, I can't allow myself to enjoy heaven, I just can't!\" I turn myself to face him, cheeks cold and wet, \"I mained Riven in League of Legends!\"\n\n This causes him shock, which quickly turns to rage. The frozen lands rumble and start to burn as magma and cracks form on the floor and walls, bringing the depths to immeasurable heat.\n\n Fear overwhelms me as the eternal lord began to arise. His clenched fist is brought in front of me, and his finger unfurls to point at me as his voice thunders and shakes my body.\n\n \"YOU HAVE RESTORED TO ME A PURPOSE FOR THE REMAINDER OF TIME\" His tone and mannerism growing ever more furious. \"YOU SHALL BE TORTURED IN THE DEEPEST REALMS, NOT EVEN GOD WILL FORGIVE SUCH A CRIME\"\n\n I attempt to run, but I stumble down the crumbling stairs. Instead of hitting the stones, the ground splits, swallowing me and enveloping me in blazing heat and darkness.\n\n The last thing I see before the punishment I must endure is Lucifer staring down from the thinning crevasse.\n\n There is no break in his anger.\n\n There is no forgiveness for me.\n\n Suddenly, the darkness gives birth to a blue light, and I scream as I understand what is happening. Once again breaking into tears, a voice from in my head calmly states\n\n \"Welcome, to Twisted Treeline.\"",
"I pull up a chair.\n\n\"Hello, Mr. devil. Mind if I play with you\"?\n\nSeemingly pleased with canine fangs exposed, he laughs a guttural wind out his hellish maw, and raises the Harmonica to his lips.\n\nAt that, I notice I made a friend in the worst of all places. I open the case containing my accordion. \n\n\"Wtf\", says the devil. \"You asshole\".\n\n\"what\"?\n\nThe devil stands and pockets his harmonica. \"I may be a prick sometimes, but you sir are no gentlemen\". \n\nI'm shocked. I don't know what I did!?!?\n\n\"A gentleman can play the accordion yet chooses not too. You sir, are no gentleman\".\n\nAt that he left for heaven, no doubt ready to repent, because I committed the gravest Faux pas, and now know why I was sent to hell.",
"A bead of sweat rolls across my brow as I open my eyes. Visions blurry, a haze of red, brown and grey. Smells of ash and soot choke my senses as the heat assaults my skin. My vision's slowly repairing, and I can see mountains of flame, stretching further and further with every passing second, licking at the ceiling.\n\nThere is a man in the distance. He might know where we are. I'll approach. Getting closer I can see that he is no man. Man shouldn't have horns the size of my forearm. Man shouldn't have a reddish hue to the skin. Man shouldn't have jet black eyes. Man shouldn't be able to walk harmlessly on flame. This was no man. This was an ungodly beast. An ungodly beast that knew my name. How did it know my name?\n\n\"How do you know my name?\"\n\n\"I know many things.\"\n\nAnd ungodly beast that knew many things. Well that's just great.\n\n\"Do you know where we are?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\nWell, that was helpful.\n\n\"Is there anyone else I can talk to?\"\n\n\"No, everyone else left.\"\n\n\"Where did they go?\"\n\n\"Upstairs.\"\n\nDamn, stuck with the ungodly beast and his cryptic answers.\n\n\"Is there anyone else coming along?\"\n\n\"No, the doors are locked.\"\n\nThe doors are locked? \n\n\"Why are the doors locked?\"\n\n\"There was a breach, so we've been sealed. You were the last one in.\"\n\n\"So it's just us?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\nWhy's he standing up? Wait! He's walking this way.\n\n\"W-When will the doors... uhmm\"\n\nOh my god, what the fuck was I going to say.\n\n\"Uhh.\"\n\nOh good, you've pissed yourself. With a bit of luck he wont want to touch you.\n\n\"When will the doors u-unlock.\"\n\nShow some respect.\n\n\"Sir.\"\n\nNailed it.\n\n\"Oh when they get breach sorted. Maybe tomorrow, maybe the end of time. Who knows.\"\n\nHe's so close. I can smell him. Wait. Whats he doing.\n\n\"Uhm Sir. Why are you touching my face.\"\n\nOuch! Shit, his nails are really sharp. Is that blood running down my face. \n\n\"Sir?\"\n\nThe pain, it's excruciating. Fuck, this really fucking hurts, and he's smiling at me.\n\n\"Sir! Please Stop! Why are you smiling?\"\n\n\"Because I thought I would never get another chance to welcome someone too hell.\"\n\n\n\nEdit: Formatting\nAlso, just realised I didn't make any mention of a harmonica. Whoops.",
"The Devil was playing a slow, mellow tune as I crept into his rocky lair dug into the side of a mountain. He stopped playing, and looked at me, or rather he looked through me and sighed, \"So... Another wrongdoer enters my fiery abode for *eternal damnation*\" promptly followed by him rolling his eyes slowly. \n\n\"I- I don't understand, why am I here?\"\n\n\"You don't recall? Maybe this will remind you\", he groaned as he swished his hand and rose up a fire from which a forgotten memory danced.\n\nIt was 2008, June. I had just graduated College and had been drinking all night and had decided to go back to the hotel I was staying at to relax, a few wisps flickered and fast forward the memory to me punching my best friend in the face, hitting him to the floor and continuously pummelling his cranium with my fist - him and I had gotten into an argument over girls, he told me he had sex with my then girlfriend on multiple accounts. The fire stopped dancing and flickering. I fell to my knees and sobbed. \"I- I'm sorry, Ryan\", I whispered as tears painted my face and cheeks. \n\n\"This, wrongdoer, this is why you are here. Fear not though, wrongdoer, there is a reason I sit here alone in my cavern and play my harmonica humbly, there is a reason I do not have any demons and fallen angels by my side and how no one else walks here forever abolished from heaven and abandoned by the Lord himself.\"\n\n\"H-how co-\" I was cut off\n\n\"The Lord you see, changed his agreements, these were unbeknown to all Humanity, not even I was told, until *it* happened.\"\n\n\"What is *it*?\"\n\n\"*It* is the holy purge, the moment of which the Lord decided that he would except all Humanity no matter their actions or race or beliefs, it was at this moment, God abandoned my domain and existence\"\n\n\"W-woah... So how come I'm down here and not up there?\" I ask looking upwards through the hole in the roof towards the heavens. \n\n\"Everyone wrongdoer comes down here first, they usually start pleading and begging for mercy before God takes them up\"\n\n\"So all I have to do is ask?\"\n\nThe Devil started playing a soft tune on the harmonica once again - his skill is masterful, in comparison to his size, the harmonica is minute. \n\nAs he played his lair started transforming as though his skill would turn locks and cause doors to open. Lava started flowing from the roof into a small pit which I could only guess to be some form of pool. Parts of the cave walls would recede down and show the outside of the cavern. My body was shaking, I was awe-stricken by how majestic Hell actually is, beautiful rivers of lava flowed down hillsides and ash covered fields, acres upon acres of ash covered fields!\n\n\"This is beautiful\" I uttered under my breath\n\nHe continued playing and tapping his huge foot on the floor as if the floor was a bass drum. I didn't want to leave.\n\n\"So, what do you do here? What would I do, if I were to stay?\"\n\n\"Sit here, in silence, maybe have a chat or go for a walk through my fields, anything really. There's a few empty bars if you fancy yourself some liquor.\"\n\n\"I want to stay\"\n\nThe Devils eyes started to gleam and shine with tears, his mouth picked up and he smiled at me, humbled.\n\n\"If you're sure,\" he exclaimed. \n\n\"First however, do you have another harmonica? Any tricks I could learn?\n\nThe Devil set down his instrument and clapped his hands three times, they boomed through the room and another harmonica slowly fell from the ceiling and into my palms.\n\n\"Here, you have an eternity to learn, just as I, use your time wisely, wrongdoer\"\n\n\n\n\n[this was my first post here I kinda like it] \n\n",
"[WP] The last thing I remember was the ice cold sting of the blade penetrating my stomach and then ripping open my insides, gushing my guts out on the pavement in front of the grocery store. I never even had time to open the soda I bought.\n\nWhen I woke up I immediately knew where l was. They've been talking about it on the news, town meetings were held and there was even a free online course you could take. When you finished you got a coupon for a 'happy meal' and 10% off your next purchase on 'fuckitletsfuck.com' ‘sex toys for your ultimate adultery experience.’\n\nSince it became clear, with the help of science and technology, humans finally had a way of communicating with the dead. The first questions off course were: is there a heaven and hell? Is there is limbo? And most importantly who decides? The simple answer was yes, and to many people’s relief, you do. \nWe were able to get into heaven, no matter what we do, and as a consequence of this knowledge: civilization went to shit. They called it 'The Loophole' and even though the idea was protested in the beginning by sweet ol’ ladies and gents who truly believed in the dignity and caring nature of humanity, it didn't take too long, for everyone to join the party. And what a party it was. Sex, drugs, and rock'n'roll! But it soon turned into rape, overdose and heads that rolled.\n\nHuman beings are too curious and easily bored, and now with all the limits removed, we were creating our new own world with new rules. Or lack thereof.\n\nNeighbours had swing parties where participants were not always willing, especially the children, and gluttonous buffets were held 24 hours, seven days a week. People lied, manipulated and killed for fun. The prison system collapsed within a year due to total civil anarchy.\n\nBut this was the world I left behind. The world that tried to prepare me for what I was to expect next.\n\nI laid there for a few seconds. The ground was warm, and I was glad to see my insides were also warm, inside me. All around me was gigantic stone walls that looked like waves that froze in mid-crash. A grand canyon of stone folding into each other. It was quite serene.\n\nFar in the distance, sitting on top of a cliff I saw the outline of a large man who seemed to be hunched over or have a large hump formation on his back. A bluesy tune rippled through the canyon and reverberated off the walls.\n\nThat must be him.\n\nI approached with caution, not because I was afraid of him, they've told us so much back on earth, I was sure nothing could really surprise me. But I was cautious not to interrupt the sweet flow of his harmonica sounds.\n\nI immediately recognised the tune. By god, is that BB King 'The thrill is gone'? I thought with an uncanny lift in my spirit.\n\n\"Yes\" The cool voice said interrupting his own melody.\n\nHe looked more normal than I imagined. Almost handsome. On his back, between his shoulders were two large bone formations sticking out. One still had a scorched looking feather stuck on it. \n\n\"How…What? I didn't say anything?”\n\n“I can hear your thoughts - I'm the devil, remember?”\n\n“Oh yea… off course. They didn't tell us that in the meetings.”\n\nA blow of deep laughter resonated through the place. I realised then how empty it was. \"They're having meetings now to discuss my personal traits. What's next, PowerPoint presentations?”\n\n“I thought the devil knew everything?” I immediately regretted my snarky remark. But I think, he knew. \n\nHe kept his smile and looked at me. “So I take it you know the drill?”\n\n“I do, but honestly I'm too afraid to go to heaven. We know what hell had in store, and we literally then created hell on earth because there was nothing to worry about. But I have no idea what to expect in heaven? If all those assholes on earth are heading to heaven, what's heaven really going to look like by now?”\n\nThe devil played with the golden harmonica in his one hand and took out a cigar from his pocket with the other. “A bar in Kansas, 3 o’clock the morning with a tequila special on the go?\" \n\n\"Really!?\" I ask naively.\n\n\"No I don't know. It's been eternity since I've been allowed in that so called bar.\n\n“Oh yea” I said slightly disappointed.\n“Look, you can stay here if you like. You will have days of regret and misery but nothing worse than it was on earth. That was actually a form of hell, you humans just misinterpreted a few crucial points we tried to highlight in scriptures. I like to think of this place as a more pleasant state of misery. Nothing a little blues can’t fix. You know I got this harmonica from Little Walter?” \nI couldn’t help but smile. I stood on the cliff and took a long look at the land. “So this is hell? Ugh. This is not too bad.”\n“Why would you want to stay here if you know there is a better place? Really – the bad days are bad.” The devil said slightly more serious.\n“Yea, but…” I couldn’t really explain the feeling of content that swooped over me. Was the devil playing tricks?\n\n“Let's just say I was an asshole before the world discovered loopholes and whatnots – and everyone became even bigger assholes. I liked that blues-loving asshole I was.”\nThe devil took out another cigar. “Well then.”\nI took the cigar from him with a smile and sat down next to him. “Now tell me about crossroads, was that a real deal?”\nHe smirked and looked out on to the horizon. “Son, do I have stories for you.”\n",
"I sat there, staring at the would be \"Prince of Darkness\" just playing a harmonica, wondering what exactly kind of fucked up dream I was having. \n\nThe air was hot and heavy; the stench of sulfur burned my nose and made my eyes water. The area around us was flat with only a few rocks giving it some personality. In the distance, if I squinted, I could see some lava and fire lighting up the ground. To my surprise, there was no screaming for manical laughter from humans being tortured. It was silent. \n\nWell, satanic haromica aside. \n\nMy attention was drawn back to him as he stopped playing. He turned his head toward me, though I wasn't able to make out his face. It..kept changing. From one face, to the next, to another. The changes weren't drastic, they were subtle enough to barely see them second to second; but over time, they changed the face entirely. The only thing that stayed the same was his bright, almost shining gold eyes. \n\n\"You're still here?\" His voice sent a shiver down my spine. It was rough, but sounded wounded. \"You'll be leaving like the others did soon enough.\" He continued, \"Everyone can escape punishment.\"\n\n\"Why haven't you left then?\" I asked, slowly standing and dusting the dirt off my pants. \n\nHe watched me closely, eying me up and down. After a moment, he finally responded, \"Only his children can be forgvien. Father decided that he'd rather allow rapists, murders, people would've started entire wars into Paradise than myself. I was disowned afterall.\" He snorted. \n\nAs he talked, the weight of the words seem to bare down on him, his shoulders tensing and head sinking toward his chest. I felt the urge to comfort him, but nothing seemed good enough to say. He looked at me once more, and I blurted out: \"That sucks.\"\n\nHe barked out a laugh, \"Yes, I suppose it does.\" He took a breath and straightened his back before turning to face me. \"So, I ask again: Why haven't you left yet?\" \n\nI blinked and scratched my arm, debating my next words. \"Well....God never did much for me I guess.\" He raised his brows at me as I shrugged, \"I was abused by my dad, shipped off to a foster home where no one wanted me, and...\" I bit my lip, wondering why I'd suddenly felt the need to bare my soul to the devil, \"Well...anyway, there were times during those beatings where I'd beg God to make it all stop. To just...cause my dad to see what he was doing was wrong, or some kind of accident happen to him to make it impossible to beat me anymore. I even prayed for death a couple times...\" I trailed off for a moment before shaking my head, \"But, I guess I wasn't important enough or whatever. Eventually, dad just dropped me off at school one day and never came back.\" \n\n\"And wasn't that the miracle you'd been praying for? To get away from him?\" He questioned. Whoever thought Satan would be an optomist? \n\n\"Well, some other shit happened; all of which he never helped me through. And I guess that's why I ended up here.\" I raised my arms and kind of made a circle, presenting the area around us both. \"Slitting your wrists works pretty well I suppose.\"\n\nThere was a moment of silence between us and my arms fell to my sides. Satan stared at me for a moment before chuckling. \"I suppose he didn't do much for you then.\" \n\nI smiled and walked up next to the rock he was sitting on before plopping down next to him, looking down the long tunnel he had been facing. At the end, I saw a small bit of light and if I squinted, I could make out shapes headed toward it. Satan began playing again, and I closed listened, wondering who'd ever choose to take a darker path than this. ",
"Disclaimer: Not a native english speaker, so pardon my french. Enjoy!\n\n...\nOkay, long story short. I died and went to hell. I know, I know. It seems a bit excessive considering I was always a decent person. Okay, there was this puppy I accidentally ran over or that greedy manager guy for whom I bent the law a bit. Just a little bit, nothing extreme. Well, there was this other incident...okay...I spare you the details. \nTo be honest, looking back I really do deserve hell. Ah, what can you do.\nI just have this one tiny question. Where the fuck is everyone? I mean, the human history alone adds up to around 12.000 years. There had to be some dickheads that made their way down here. But all I see is emptiness. Not quite true. Satan is here, obviously. Playing a sad tune on a harmonica. Not quite what I was expecting.\nHe looked up and straight into my eyes. Now you would expect something along the lines of: His black eyes burned through my soul, tormenting me just by staring at me. But nothing of this nonsense. He looked rather sad. Poor guy. I almost felt sorry for him. Hehe, yeah, as if I would feel sorry for anyone. There was this poor fellow I sent to prison and thus destroyed his hopes and dreams for good. No regrets here. It was actually kinda amusing. This feeling of power never let me down. I don't bow to the law, it bows to me. But let us get back to the case I have in front of me. The devil himself, Satan, Lucifer, or whatever you wanna call him, talked to me:\n\n\"Ah, well, another one. Come on, say it.\"\n\n\"Say what?\", I asked. \n\n\"That you accept Jesus as your lord and savior. Say it and you get to heaven.\", he replied. He didn't sound angry. His voice had a apathetic tone to it. \n\n\"Wait, that's it? That is why no one is here?\"\n\nHe groaned and looked down, shaking his head, muttering something under his breath. \n\n\"Of course that's it! Do you believe anyone would want to stay in hell because they want to? I mean, yeah, we got a great landscape with hordes of demons, the tortured souls of the damned and hellfire. Sounds like a fucking holiday for the whole family, you idiot. You don't even have to mean it. I mean Mohammed went to heaven too. Was kinda pissed that he wasn't the prophet everyone is talking about but what can you do.\"\n\nI went silent for a bit and assessed the situation at hand. I came to the conclusion that I had to do something. I mean, come on, helping the dark lord himself would earn me a great reward.\n\n\"Sounds like you are in a lot of trouble. But worry not, I am a lawyer. And considering I am in hell I did a mighty fine job, don't you think?\"\n\n\"What exactly are you talking about?\"\n\n\"There is this saying about playing the devil's advocate. In this case that is entirely true. If I may introduce my self, just in case you don't already know who I am. My name is Clyde B. Parker-Barrow, Lawyer. At your service.\"\n\nThe devil started to grin. He showed his yellow teeth and I could hear his roaring laughter as loud as a thousand bombs. \n\n\"Oh my, you got a great sense of humor. I got nothing to lose now, right? How about a deal with the devil Mr. Parker-Barrow? I doubt any of use would regret it. And considering you are successful, there is no use in trying to fool you.\"\n\nThis might just be the greatest case any lawyer ever head. \n\n\"Mr. Satan, we do have a deal. Let us sue god and win.\"\n\nWe shook heads and sealed our deal. The start of a great adventure. People despised me for a reason, but could never touch me. God is just another challenge I am willing to take on. I really am the devil's advocate.",
"\"They live their OWN tiny lives. I do not live their lives for them... And then they come HERE (having transgressed against what they believed to be right), and expect US to fulfill their desire for pain and retribution... I don't MAKE them come here.\" \n\n-Lucifer (Sandman: Seasons of Mist)\n\nI can't remeber which issue this part is in in seasons of mist, but it's one of the best chapters of the series.",
" The lift hurtled ever downwards, the floor display flashing as each floor passed by, small beams of light flashing between the gap in the doors.\n\nShaking my head, I snapped out of the day dream, it felt so real, the gunshots, the screams, the blood, *oh so much blood.* Then came the falling feeling, like a black hole had opened under my feet.\n\nWhat seemed like an eternity passed as the lift slowed its descent into a stop, glancing at the display it showed Floor 8.311. Every now and then the display would flicker, the number 8 distorting to display **'H.311'** and what looked like red oil dripping from behind the electrical display.\n\nMost people would freak out over this, but I became accustomed to it, technical glitches were common in the office, the niggles in the new system were still being ironed out, with the new display referring to floors and sectors, there was bound to me some teething issues and I must have hit the wrong button on the way down.\n\nThe doors opened with a resounding bing as the speakers crackled into life.\n\n*“Welcome to floor 8.311, enjoy your stay”*\n\nStatic cut in at the end, I was sure it sounded like a laugh, but shook it off as being over tired.\n\nSighing at my mistake, I stepped out into the atrium, i'd never been to this floor before and something felt different, almost wrong. The floors and walls were white, almost too white.\n\n*“Hello..?”* I called out, my voice echoing through the room.\n\n*Silence.*\n\nThe lift doors closed behind me before I had a chance to react, looking around I couldn't find the button to call it back, they must have still been working on this floor, *damn.*\n\nSpotting a couple of doors across the room, I walked towards them, my footsteps echoing around the empty space as approached. *Jackpot,* the left door displayed the *'Exit'* sign, reaching for the handle and opening the door, I was about to take the stairs up when I heard it. The sound of a Harmonica cutting through the air, it was beautiful and sad at the same time, the notes cutting deep, a shiver ran down my spine as I stopped and took the door to the right.\n\nClosing the door behind me I looked around, it appeared to be a bar. Pool tables stood in the centre of the room, a variety of booths and chairs covered the rest of the floor. This must have been a break room for the staff, we didn't have so much as a microwave, and the 8th floor had a damn bar! Across the room sat a lone figure, his eyes closed and face scrunched in concentration as his hands opened and closed around the instrument, the closer I got, the the deeper the notes cut into me.\n\nI was about five meters away when he realised I was there, he stopped playing and looked at me, setting his harmonica down on the bar, a confused expression on his face.\n\n*“Why are you still here?”* he asked, the confused look turning to suspicion\n\n*“Didn't you see the stairs? Have they finally locked the door?”*\n\n*“I don't understand?”*\n\nThe stool scrapped as he stood up and walked towards me sighing.\n\n*“Allow me to show you”*\n\nHe placed a single finger on my forehead, the floor around me cracked and decayed in an instant as his shape twisted, wings erupted from his back, his fingers turning into claws, clothes ripping as his muscles expanded and armour plates formed around his flesh. I was in a familiar room, *my room*. That was the first time it dawned on me, the vision I saw in the lift wasn’t a dream, i'd come back from deployment and found her cheating with her roommate, i'd shot them both before turning the rifle on myself.\n\n*“Wh-what are you?! I stammered “Is this some kind of.. some kind of trick?!”*\n\n*“I think you know who I am, Tom.”*\n\nRemoving his finger, the room morphed back to the bar as quickly as it changed, the wings and armour vanishing, his clothes spotless as if nothing happened.\n\n*“T-The Devil?!”*\n\n*“Ahh, smart one, aren’t you?'”* His eyes flashed yellow as he grinned and stretched out his arms.\n\n**“WELCOME, TO HELL”**\n\nFire and smoke erupted like an indoors fireworks show as he raised his arms, filling the room with smoke and ash before vanishing as violently as they appeared.\n\nChuckling he sat back down on his stool.\n\n*“But seriously, it's been a long time since anyone willingly took this door, why now, why you?”*\n\n*“The music, it drew me here.. hang on, if this hell, where is everyone? Where's the demons, the eternally damned souls?! Why am I alone with you?!”*\n\nHe sighed and looked up from his stool\n\n*“It happened about twenty years ago..”*\n",
"I’m jolted awake, groggy and stiff with a terrible kink in my neck. I hate riding the metro home from work. The dull red plastic seats are so uncomfortable; the train always lurches; and the most days the cars are crowded. I hate the ugly people. I hate the smelly people more. I often think if I could kill them, I would. Today, however, almost everyone seems to have gotten off before my stop. Confused but relieved I sit back and try to fall back asleep. \n\n“Hey Mister! Excuse me!”\n\n“God Dammit! What the hell do you want?”, I mumble as I open my eyes to see a young boy standing in the aisle in front of me. The kid reminds me of my son. About five or six with brown hair and big eyes. He is wearing New Jersey Devils hockey t-shirt and is holding a something in his hand. \n\n“You wanna hear me play my harmonica?”, he asks in an innocent tone. I roll my eyes slightly. This is the same kind of crap my kids always pull. \n\n“Daddy! Daddy! Look at the picture I drew!” My son draws lots of pictures at school, but they always look awful. I don’t think he can even color in the lines. I cannot believe that the school he goes to claims to be best in the state if they do not even teach how to color in the lines. I wish my lawyer had managed to get his mother to take full custody, but now I have to deal with him every other weekend. \n\n“No kid.”, I reply to the boy on the train. “Go find your parents or ask someone else.”\n\n“Everyone else already tried to help me, but they got to their stop before I can finish my song.” He wines back.\n\n“Look.” I tell him. “I don’t know you and I do not want to hear you play that thing. Just go find your parents.”\n\nHe wanders off. I sit back and wait for my stop.\n",
"\"Welcome, newcomer\" he said with a grin. \n\"We are a bit short on heads due to a certian slip of a rule that some have taken advantage of.\"\n\n\"Welcome to hell, where all your torture and wildest pains come true. Im here to sentence your soul to eternal suffereing blah blah, until you ruin it by... well, i dont care if you stay. The few who keep me company are off torturing themselves for the day's work. You will start tomorrow, ill show you to your room.\"\n\nI take a look around the cavernous lair and dont see much. The devil seems lonely. I wonder what happened.\n\n\"This is where your soul shall rest. And resting is your job so you may be given a chance to survive the torture on a daily basis.\" He said \"look around the halls -\" suddenly a great castle hall appeard \"and give yourself a tour before your nourishing agony commences, lord knows it will hurt. Welp -\" he said with his hands on his hips now, head tilted \"- go on, uhhh, im tired here. Even satan's soul needs to rest.\"\n\nAs i reach my room after giving myself a tour i spot a young man's soul, given the formal hell attire of his own skin as torn off and processed sewn clothing. With holes in his ears as if his soul carried on the weight of his choice of gauges. What a waste.\n\nHe approaches me and smiles a straight line nodding his head left to right. Anything off of frowning seems to be an invitation to pain. He claims to know me, yet, claims we lived on earth at seperate times. How this could be ill never know since satan said re-incarnation is not a thing. I wonder who is lying.\n\nI am skeptical of the young soul as i listen to his chatter of how hell works. The systematic process is much more orderly than anyone had imagined. Its like a regular 9 to 5 without pay. (Oh the agony of the idea alone) but off time and free time is actually free time? This worries me but is simply explain by the boy. \n\nHe says that the more we suffer, the more tolerant we become, the less we know pain, the less we feed satan's willpower. Its all for a purpose he says. \n\n\"That satan is real talkitive, i can see how people wanna hang out with him. He has better entertainment than heaven ive heard. So the torture is kinda worth it\" the boy said\n\nSomeone (somesoul) else chimes in \"those pussy foot 'pretend to do good' souls that ran off to heaven dont know what they are missing. There are plenty who chose to stay in hell. Pissing annoying they are...\" and kept walking the halls.\n\nThe human condition is truly more terrifying than hell itself. I thought to myself.\n\nAfter a week or so of the torture and online classes of late professors for facial oppression therapy i get to know that everyone here is either oblivious of the rule, or chose to stay in hell.\n i go up to satan before bedtime and ask him\n\n\"So what was this rule that everyone used to escape hell for heaven? It doesnt even seem worth the switch.\"\n\n\"Well kid, ill tell ya what. I like that you allow me to feed off your soul by choice. And i do offer great perks.\"\n\nHe lets out a great sigh. I cant tell if it is relief or dissapointment. He then said\n\n\"You know, they just asked.\"\n\nSatan walks off and stares at the massive hell that is gaping with souls begging for torture.\nHe puts his hands on a nearby counter and lowers his head.\nHe whispers sofly while turning his head slightly towards me\n\n\"They even said please.\"",
"Serenity wreathed in flame\n\ntraveled down hallowed lane\n\non gilded trails winding, I couldn't refrain\n\n\nfor the Kingdom had been overrun\n\ndemons and sinners, poured over Elysium\n\nthe eternal battle had again begun...\n\n\nI lived life on that Middle plane\n\nas far from other beings as society could strain\n\nand in death, I wanted silence, away from pain\n\n\nI crawled those cracks between Heaven to Hell\n\njumped from high roads and from them fell\n\nall with the word that someone did tell\n\n\nthat the fiery bowels are now empty and still\n\nquiet, solace in the embers and silt\n\nHeaven in havoc, noise of demons and angels\n\n\nAnd so, went I, down channels in this after life\n\nwent I from after-life to after-death, for death's respite\n\nto be where it burned the body but not the ears and mind\n\n\nbut nothing is ever as is wished\n\nthrough cracks and crags my body was squished\n\npushed forward toward what my soul's long missed\n\n\nand to my dismay\n\nupon reaching my heaven prepared to forever stay\n\nmy eyes laid upon a figure, a black harmonica he played\n\n\nunceasingly, persistently, loudly\n\nhis song was angry\n\nI pleaded\n\n\n\"For just a moment, remove the notes from the air!\n\nI need only a moment, I think it's fair.\n\nI'll keep you company, make me too a chair\n\n\nand you keep one soul from up there\n\nforever down here\n\nbut for a moment whenever you care\n\n\nplease let us share\n\na brief unbroken, quiet moment bare\n\nI think for my company, it is fair...\"\n\n\nThe figure stopped for just a note\n\none second or 2, smiled just to tote\n\n\"I'm a Satan... you have no hope.\"\n\n\nWith that he played one resound song,\n\nthe realm shook and up came walls strong\n\ncracks cramped and shut, he picked me up with flaming tongs\n\n\nhe sat me down, forever, never alone\n\nno more light from flames had shone\n\nand all I could do was let out a moan.",
"I nervously walked toward Satan with my hands fumbling in my pockets. Once I got close enough, I timidly said, \"S-Satan?\" \"What?\" He replied in his once mighty, but now broken voice. I took my hands out of my pocket holding a small dab rig and some wax paper with a sheet of melted oil on it. \"Want to get High?\" Satan stared for a moment and then shrugged and said, \"Why not?\" And Satan and I smoked and lived happily ever after for about 2 hours.",
"I died so fast...\nIt was over in an instant, shot through the head from over a mile away. I never could have seen it coming. I've done my share of crime, and I'll be the first to admit that my life was overrun with hatred and fear. So I always knew I would go to hell... but I didn't think it'd be like this.\n\nThere is no fire and brimstone. There's just.. him. It's not as if he were alone in an empty room. There is absolutely nothing but him and his harmonica. I wasn't sure if I even existed with him. He didn't seem to notice me, even though I couldn't notice anything but him. The songs he played kept changing. First they'd begin, chaotic and malformed almost as if he had forgotten how to play. Slowly they would evolve, refine and swell into something that could only be described as beautiful. But then, undoubtedly, they would cease. I didn't feel time pass like I did when I was alive, it now seemed fickle. The only thing I knew was that each song lasted for a lifetime. \n\nThen I heard it begin. My song. I KNEW this song. I've heard it a thousand times in my dream. IT'S HERE. THIS IS MY LIFE. Every note played vibrated with my very existence. The sadness, the happiness, the fear, the joy, the anger, and every other emotion and thought was being poured out into this abyss. My very essence was being played for no one. That's when it dawned on me, that this truly was hell. Everything I'd worked so hard for, every trial I'd endured, and every person I'd loved. All my deeds and my will were to be lost into the infinite darkness. With nothing to witness me except for the devil himself, but just like the other songs, I too would be forgotten.\n\nThe song began to end. His lips grew weary and his breath became short. I was overwhelmed with grief. I knew what was going to happen, because I'd seen it happen before. Just before the dread of my own demise shattered what little will I had left, it appeared. A speck, the smallest speck of dust that I'd ever seen. Floating in this abyss there was the faintest memory of life. The dust heard my song. The noise was picked up by this piece of... not nothing. To be heard by anything, even this speck brought upon immeasurable fulfillment. It was there, and it heard me. In that moment, there was nothing I felt more love for than a single shred of existence. I heard a voice from somewhere within my soul. A part of the song that I'd never known existed.\n\n\"Do you want to be heard?\" It asked, but my voice was gone.\n\"Do you want to be seen?\" It asked, but my body was gone.\n\nI tried with all my will to answer, to plea, to beg. My song was ending so fast that I knew something must be done so I stopped trying to beg for my life and I begged for everything else. Let life exist. Stop the spiral of gluttony that the abyss seems to bring. Sate its hunger and save the next life for mine has all but been consumed. And in the moment when all hope had nearly been lost and my song reached its final notes, I noticed another speck. Then another appeared. They began to fill the nothingness, these specks of existence flourished and moved. They witnessed my song and began to dance around the man, multiplying and mixing, each with its own movements. The bloom did not stop until there was no abyss, and the warmth of existence comforted me once again. The man stopped playing my song, because now existence itself carried my voice. Now I understand that what I knew to be my life was only the beginning. Now I know what it means to cast away my pride. Now I too, will be a shred of existence, bearing witness to the songs of others so that we may forever weave the web of fate.",
"I awaken in a comfortable chair, but an unfamiliar form. My ears are ringing, and my head is spinning. I have no idea where I am. The room is dim and empty, only myself. It blackens again, and I find myself in the same chair, but well rested. My ears perk up to a wonderful tune, and I turn my head to find a shadowy figure playing a gleaming golden harmonica, so beautifully. Their breath travelled through it so flawlessly, but with such ferocity, like a lonely hurricane, on an infinitely calm ocean.\n\nSuddenly, they stop. Slowly, the light shifts, and my eyes are transfixed on this being. The Devil. But something was not right. He was not as I imagined. He was calm and collected, like he was wearing a suit of honesty underneath his red scales.\n\nA deep, smooth voice transcends from his lips. He spoke with care, like he'd crafted his words for all of his eternity.\n\n\"You're a beautiful woman, Maria. Why did you have to do it?\"\n\n\"Do what?\"\n\nI slurred, with an unwoken expression. My voice surprised me. It was young, unused. Like I'd never surfaced a single emotion.\n\n\"Take your own life. You made a promise...\"\n\nHe went on. His voice flowed like liquid, yet somehow sounded concerned.\n\n\"You would find someone, as deserving of happiness as you were lacking...\"\n\n\"And I would deliver to them what I could not for myself.\" I finished, in an almost entranced manner.\n\n\"Indeed, yet here you are, in this barren land, with nothing to show.\"\n\nHe sounded almost surprised. Then I realised what had just been spoken. I killed myself? Does that mean...\n\n\"Yes, Maria\"\n\nHe replied, like he was reading my thoughts.\n\n\"This is Hell. Welcome.\"\n\n\"Where is everyone?\"\n\n\"They left. God's Perfect Kingdom is once more forgiving. Everyone has gone to heaven, yet, I'm still condemned to this damned place. Feel's like it's been an eternity...\"\n\nHe chuckled softly.\n\n\"So, I don't have to stay? How do I get out?\"\n\nWith a disappointed sigh, he simply gestured to a fire place. I suddenly realised we were in a different room. As he parted the fire, revealing pearly gates from beyond, I astoundingly asked,\n\n\"Weren't we in a different room before?\"\n\n\"Yes, we were. In fact, since last time you took notice, I've renovated it 7 times.\"\n\nA smile of amusement spread across my face, which promptly spread to the Devil's own.\n\nI stood and approached the fire place, ready to leave and enter the pearly gates, but yet it simply didn't feel right. The walls shifted from a warm orange to a shattering blue. I turned to the Devil, where he sat, head resting on his hand. He quickly looked up at me, and with a temper, yelled at me.\n\n\"Go! Get out of this place. Your soul is free!\"\n\nIt wasn't a temper of an eternal rage. It was of emotion. Sorrow. His head sunk back into his hand, where he appeared almost limp.\n\n\"I can't. It's just not right.\"\n\nHe rose from his chair, harmonica falling from his lap to his feet. His face compressed with rage, and his scales illuminated red. The walls were nothing but fire.\n\n\"But you can! You can let your soul live on, with every other, and alongside God, himself!\"\n\nHis voice echoed through the realm, quivering. His stare pierced my soul, his words rattled the ground beneath me, but I stood calmly.\n\n\"But I made a promise.\"\n\nHis eyes turned ice cold. The fires surrounding me were extinguished, as if they were never lit. He fell to his knees, and began softly sobbing.\n\nI approached him, to comfort him. It seemed as though his scales melted to the touch, as if his fierce armour had worn. He stood up straight, with a tear in his eye, and pulled me close. He rapped his arms around me as I sunk into his 7' figure.\n\nThat's how I kept my promise. That's how I met my husband.",
"\"Sup man,\" I said, raising my right arm weakly. Sure, I was nervous, but the red and furry little creature reclining in a La-z-boy recliner reading a book with half frame glasses struck a genuine chord within me.\n\nStartled, the nefarious imp put down his novel, \"Keeping the Hearth Clean; a Book of Maintenance for Your Home and Heart,\", and took of his reading glasses. He folded them up, deliberately, and placed them on top of the book on a side table. He struggled to arise from the recliner, pulling levers and leaning forward before practically leaping away from the thing. \n\nHe walked up to me, extended a hand smoothly, and said, \"How do you do, Tim?\"\n\nNaturally, I raised my own hand and clasped his in a firm shake. But only during the release, as my wrist went limp back to my side, did I realize just how uncomfortable it was to have someone know absolutely everything about you and your life. Your thoughts, your name. Your memories, your betrayals.\n\nMy life rushed through my body. I had always believed in a real life magic, existing in subservient subtlety behind known science. But here, in this devil's lair, I could see the swirling power of emotions crashing through my body. Slashing through any walls I had maintaining my posture. \n\nWith sad, puppy-round eyes, the demon looked upon me. It seemed his gaze was from high above, despite his meager three feet of height. The burden of wisdom become suddenly apparent to me. His shoulders were tiny, his frame was frail. And yet, at the edges, if i peered through my own swirling mists of memories, I could see the vestiges of a powerful omnipotence, rivaled only by God himself, that fuck. \n\nWith a crack and a snap, my miasma of magic dissipated. Lucifer said clearly, \"I know why you are here,\". He paused. It seemed the little red rocket of evil was choking up. \"Lets go play some games,\" He turned away and walked into his massive parlor, beckoning me to follow.\n\nYou see, God has a rule. A rule I broke on purpose. And even if I could get into Heaven now, with all the other sinners and saints; that is not why I fucking killed myself.",
"Cold darkness followed hard upon a sudden flash of blinding light. It was a palpable darkness, and I could feel it's tenebrous, cloying fingers entwine about my throat; felt it pulling me down and the weight of the air become nigh unbearable. I was drowning, or so it seemed, but how could that be? Last I remembered, I was driving home from my mistress’s apartment, a cozy little love shack on the upper West side. I had just crossed the bridge into Jersey --\n\n\nNo. I hadn't made it all the way across. There was a tractor-trailer that changed lanes without looking, or without seeing me pass to the right.\n\n\nThe sudden realization of my own death struck a gasping fear into my heart. But not as much as the realization that my consciousness had somehow survived. I guess my mother was right.\n\n\nThe frigid cold began to dissipate and a light opened before me. A light. How cliche. It widened as I approached, and I felt the warmth exuding from it. That warmth turned to heat, unbearable heat. I felt my skin crack at the sudden pulse of agonizing fire bellowed out of the portal and consumed me. I screamed.\n\n\nThe world opened up before my eyes and the vast plain of hell reached out beyond the horizon. Barren save for pillars of fire erupting from chasms in the black stone. I screamed again in horror, reeled back, waiting for some faceless demon to careen down from the sky and fly me off to some pillory to be tortured and maimed for all eternity. My head swum with regret, denial, disbelief. And then I heard him, as though the crack of doom itself.\n\n\n“What the fuck are YOU doing here?!”\n\n\nI beheld Satan in all his terrible resplendent horror. I stumbled backwards again, unable to keep any sense in my head.\n\n\n“Dude, seriously, enough with the screaming! You're totally harshing my buzz.”\n\n\nI beheld the massive bong he carried in one hand, and what looked like a half-empty bottle of rye in the other. Struck silent by the absurdity of the encounter, I watched him slog the rest of the bottle in a few gulps, dash the bottle against the ground, and then fumble about his person. “You got a light?”\n\n\n“Are you--”\n\n\n“Oh, duh,” he snorted and lit his own finger on fire on one of the nearby geysers. He took a massive drag, holding a finger up to stay any questions while he worked. He held his breath for what seemed an eternity, then blew out a wispy cloud of smoke right into my face. “Damn, that's good. Anyway, what are you still doing here? Why didn't you leave with the rest of those,” he snorted back what might have been a tear, “fucking tool bags?”\n\n\n“I, uh,” I stammered, unsure how to proceed, “I just got here, I guess. What do you mean, everyone left? I thought eternal damnation was--”\n\n\n“Yeah, great joke from the Big Guy, right?” he said. “Turns out time is just a conceptional framework used to encapsulate experiences into finite chunks of data capable of being rendered by the human brain.”\n\n\n“What does that mean?”\n\n\n“It means eternity is in your head, and since you no longer have to think like a human you're free to leave whenever you want to.” He sniffed, head dropped, eyes defeated, and kicked a stone off the edge of the precipice into the gully below. “I mean, why wouldn't you, right?”\n\n\nThe idea wasn't fully computing for me just yet. It made no sense, then, for hell to even exist if all one had to do was will oneself out if it. Eternity in paradise or this place; it was the ultimate no-brainer. But then it hit me.\n\n\n“So, why are you still here?” I asked.\n\n\nHe stopped pacing for a moment, blinked at me a few times, took another long draw from the fresh bottle of rye. “Well, someone has to deliver the message, right?”\n\n\n“Could you just, I dunno, put up a sign?”\n\n\nHe motioned as though to say something incredulous, and then recoiled. “Shit,” he said, “hadn't even thought of that. You think they'd let me in?” He offered me the bottle. I decided it would be nice to have a last swig of the hard stuff before heading out.\n\n\nI shrugged. “Well, everyone else got in.”\n\n\n“Except Pat Robertson. You try explaining anything scientific to that knob-gobbler and he just gives you this hooked-fish look. He can't get his shit together with the whole time thing.”\n\n\nSounded about right to me. “Well, fuck that guy, anyway.”\n\n\nSatan grinned. “Already did. C’mon, let's blow this place. I know a great pub in heaven. Best bacon cheese burgers in all of existence.”",
"I arose in fire under the black rock sky of Hell. Flames before me, mountains to my right, and to my left sat The Devil Himself, alone with his simple harmonica. I asked him, \"Why are you so sad?\"\n\nIn reply He played an unaccompanied lament, a chilling and poignant melody of solitude.\n\nI picked up a searing rock, and thumped it on the stony ground in time to Satan's tune.\n\nHe paused momentarily, tapped his hoof to my rhythm, and continued playing. As our tempos intwined the tune became less dirge-like, increasingly more lively, possibly even hopeful.\n\nI saw a doomed soul enter the Hellgate. He saw us playing our song amidst the towers of flame, stood and watched for a moment. After a few measures, he clicked his heels three times and spoke the true name of God. He ascended then to Heaven and eternal paradise, but his last memory before meeting eternity was of Satan and I jamming along together.",
"When I died I knew I wasn't worthy of the pearl gates. I hadn't lived a good life and I sure didn't have any noteworthy accomplishments. Hell was where I knew I was going for better or worse. A life of selfishness was all I had to show for my time on Earth. What no one ever tells you about dying is how clearly you see the world. Death unlocks knowledge and understanding that a mortal body could never harness.\n\nWhen I got to the underworld it wasn't quite what I expected. There was no multitude of people, there wasn't even any fire threatening to harm me. Instead of that there was only desert as far as the eye could see. The only thing that stood out was a lone figure playing the harmonica. The melancholy notes drifted across the barren expanse. \n\nAlthough I never talked to him, I knew immediately that I was listening to the wistful tunes of Lucifer himself. The loophole to get out wasn't new, it had always been there. Hell was created for the punishment of evil, but it was never meant to punish humanity. It was a cage designed to show everyone what the result of disobeying God was.\n\nAs I continued to look at the fallen angel, I could sense the solitude that he had gone through. The musical notes communicated the feelings of anguish that had come from being alone since the dawn of time.\n\nWhen you're dead you lose track of time, it ceases to be important. I didn't know how long I had been listening to the music but I needed to go. Before I did, he looked up and caught my eye. In that instant I knew that Heaven might not be as wonderful as I had heard. As I began to ascend I wondered if meeting the Almighty was something worth doing. Did the heavenly creations serve God out of love or fear?",
"'It's not your fault everyone left, buddy' I sighed, this was definitely starting to get.... awkward.\n\n\n'Everyone hates me! I can't do anything right it's just SO unfair!!!'\n\n\n'Just because everyone left you, literally climbing over each other to leave does not mean it was because of you'.\n\n\nConvincing the Devil he was a nice guy at heart is not really how I expected this Sunday to go. \n\n\n\n'Lucy, this happens every year when the people start escaping again.' I was beginning to plead, 'Let's just go out, maybe watch a few episodes of Supernatural and you'll be happy again'.\n\n\n'The writers of fucking Supernatural hate me aswell!'\n\n\n'Yeh but the fan girls on Tumblr love you'\n\n\n\n\n'Fuck off, Dave'",
"Blackness...\n\nNothing...\n\nThe bleak tones of a mouth organ wailed through the air, echoing around a chamber of black marble which was polished so brilliantly that the reflections of tiny flickering flames danced around the room like a troupe of sunset clad ballet dancers. They to'ed and fro'ed, they leapt and soared, providing a dim glow to the otherwise pitch black expanse of the chamber. \n\n\nThe source of these flickers was a lonely fire no bigger than one I would have built myself when camping alone, or in the twilight hours of a fishing trip if I had managed to catch a trout to keep my growling stomach company as I waited for the stars above to creep from behind the daylight. \n\nBeside the fire sat a hunched figure, who proved to be the source of the melancholic crooning that was reverberating throughout the chamber, echoing as if a choir of sadistic angels. I felt drawn to him. For it was a him. Although it was not human. From the waist down the creature sported thick, matted hair, which clad his powerful legs all the way down to the ankle. From the ankle, powerful hooves protruded, each as smooth and black as the room in which I found myself. \n\nI approached the figure and called out to him. My body felt as if I was screaming, however the words came out in a feeble croak, the fear in my soul dragging them back into my knotted stomach. \n\n\"Who are you?\"\n\nThe ensemble continued, unwavering and unfaltered. \n\n\"Who are you?\" I repeated. \n\nNo reply. The harmonica glistening in the firelight, gliding between the figures cracked blue lips. \n\n\"Who ar...\"\n\n\"He won't answer!\" Came a shrill voice, \"He never answers.\".\n\nI whirled around, seeking the source of the voice, however it echoed around the room just as the mouth organ did. It sounded as if it was coming from everywhere. And nowhere. \n\n\"We can offer you steak. And fresh wine. There will be no pain, and you will be the lord of your own kingdom.\" continued the voice. \"You can fish our rivers, walk in our valleys, play in our streams\". \n\n\"But you will be alone. There are no people here. Not any more. No family, no friends. No others. Just the animals and plants, and the sun and the sky. Just the stars at night and the light of the moon. Your language will fade and you will never hear the sound of laughter ringing through the air again. You will never know love. You will never be comforted. You will be alone. Eventually your soul will fade, shrinking disheveled into your heart and you will cease to be human. Time will take you. You will become a part of your kingdom for all eternity an animal roaming the lands as any other. Then it will not be your kingdom. For he will always be king. These are his lands...\" my eyes snapped back to the creature. \"This is hell.\"\n\nThe fire rose up, unfurling to head height. It was alive. Flames leapt from the human like figure and singed the air I was so rapidly breathing.\n\n\"Do you accept?\" The figure crowed. \n\n\"What choice do I have?\" I trembled. \n\n\"Every choice. You can choose to stay here, or repent for your earthly sins and be transported to heaven. But know this, you must truly repent, or you risk sealing your fate here to fade to nothing, a figure of his eternal torment.\"\n\n\"Then I chose to repent! I cannot chose this way, who could?!?\"\n\n\"There have been a few throughout the ages. They have faded now.\"\n\n\"Not I, I repent.\" I pleaded. \n\n\"So be it!\" The flaming figure cried, diving forwards and engulfing me in a tight grasp. My skin burned white hot, my hair singed and my flesh melting away in agony. We shot upwards, a plume of smoke billowing from beneath our feet, the ceiling of the chamber fast approaching, all the while the figure's searing fingers clawing at my face an neck. Never slowing, we crashed through the ceiling.\n\nBlackness...\n\nNothing...\n\nI awoke to a searing pain which scorched over my whole body.\n\nThe chamber was white this time. Brilliant white. As though I was standing in a room of nothing. \n\n\"You should have stayed!\" A voice boomed.\n\nI held up a hand, shielding the dazzling white light. A majestic figure approached, on horseback. He was old. Not that he appeared old. He bore no wrinkles, and his hair was flowing and black. Thick muscles adorned his chest and neck, and his thick thighs sat atop his golden steed. But his eyes. Deep pools of memory that gazed from behind sunken sockets. Dark galaxies, all seeing, all knowing, all powerful. \n\n\"My lands have become plagued by the likes of you. I will have lucifer's head for this. He should know better than allow the likes of you into my kingdom!\".\n\nHis voice pierced my very being, intensifying the pain, knocking the breath out of my lungs. \n\nPanting for breath, I summoned the courage. \"Forgive me. I beg you!\" I whimpered. \n\nHe threw back his head, roaring with laughter. \"Forgive you?!? What good would that do. You are in heaven now. My kingdom. Wether I forgive you means nothing.\"\n\n\"You should have stayed where you belong!\" The man boomed. \"No matter, you will see for yourself soon enough!\". \n\nHe clapped his enormous hands together and the whole room quaked. Gilded doors swung open on the other end of the chamber, and I sprinted out of the room. Eager to escape the overbearing presence of the old man. \n\nA scene of horror emerged as my eyes adjusted. Screams of terror and the acrid flavour of smoke filled the air. The city below burned. A woman dashed from behind a blazing cabin followed by a stream of melted figures, scarred flesh bubbling and raw, bounding after her with hunger and malice in their eyes. \n\nShe was fast, however she could not have seen the root of the shrivelled tree which grasped at her ankles, dragging her to the ashen ground. Her blonde locks fell over her face, covering her bruised cheeks and bleeding lip. \n\nThey were on top of her. Pinning her to the ground, hungrily tearing at her clothes, lashing her with branches torn from trees and biting at her with gnawing, sharpened teeth. Their fingernails gouging into the flesh in which they were grasping and bringing forth fountains of blood. \n\n\"What hell is this...?\" I gasped. \n\n\"It is heaven.\" Boomed the voice from within the chamber behind me. \"A heaven which has swung open its doors who all that wish to come here. A heaven that has been pillaged by the murderers, rapists and thieves which the world so brutally creates. \n\n\"What are those things... those monsters?\". The words left my mouth, but in myself I had already answered my own question. \n\n\"They are the evil ones.\" The man replied, exiting the room to stand by my side. \"The ones who do not belong\". \n\nI glanced at my reflection in his golden saddle. My stomach churned and I tasted bile. Shredded and torn. Burnt and disfigured. Hairless and naked. Shiny white scars wrapped around my entire body like vines. An evil mark of the torment I had to endure to gain entry into heaven. My eyes stared out of my skull from lidless sockets, my face melted like wax. It appeared as if my skin was dripping. I was a monster. \n\n\"They had a choice, as did you. Now you must face the consequences of your choices\". \n\nI fell back, in shock. So much shock that I did not feel my body hit the ground. It felt as if I was falling. Eternally falling. I covered my eyes with my decrepit hands. \n\nBlackness...\n\nNothing...\n\n\"CLEAR!\"\n\nA shock ran through my entire system, spanning to my fingers and toes. My chest leapt into the air. I landed on the gurney with a thud. White lights all around me, the acrid out of the smoke still fresh in my nostrils. I tried to open my eyes but find them already open. \n\nI look down at myself. Shredded and torn. Burnt and disfigured. Hairless and naked. Shiny white scars wrapped around my entire body like vines.\n\n\"You were in a fire\" a voice above me says. \"We resuscitated you, you are alive, you will survive.\"\n\nI later learned that I was clinically dead for one minute and six and 2/3 seconds. The doctors thought I was dead but decided to give the defibrillator one more shot. \n\nOne more chance... \n\nI know the choices I must make now. ",
"I felt an intense, white hot pain, and then: nothing. There was nothing but total darkness. The feeling slowly returned to my limbs, and I was able to open my eyes. Still: total darkness. I landed, wherever I was, on my hands and knees. The ground beneath me was gritty feeling, almost rocky. I'd already scraped my hands, and my knees ached from the impact of landing. I slowly brought myself up to my hands and knees.\n\nWhere am I? I thought. It's so dark, a little frightened voice inside of me said. But a much larger terror washed over me as it all came rushing back to me: the river, my overalls snagging on a tree branch, hitting my head on a rock and then...darkness. My summer of fun ended in tragedy. And now I was here, alone, in the dark.\n\nI knew the only thing that I could do is move forward until I found some kind of source of light. As I trudged forward, I tripped over the rocks under my feet. I must be in some kind of cave, I thought. I've never seen anywhere so dark. As I continued to move, I began to see a small pinprick of light. Hope blossomed in my chest: there was a way out of here. I started running towards the light, and then, tripping over myself one last time, I fell over a chasm, into the light, and landed facefirst in a room.\n\nThe first thing I noticed about the room: it was empty. And it was hot. I was from Georgia, originally, so I knew what heat was. But it was ten times as hot as a humid Georgia summer day. As I felt myself beginning to sweat, I looked around me and noticed that the room was bare, save for a table and a chair. The sound of a harmonica floated through the air, a haunting, dissonant melody. A melody I found eerily familiar. \n\nThat small point of confusion over the sound dissolved quickly as I turned to literally face the music. My face contorted with rage at what I saw.\n\nIt was him. My greatest enemy. The enemy I knew I would one day have to face again. Playing...a harmonica? The evil creature who beat me, the greatest fiddle player in Georgia, the boy who saved his home state from pure evil...was playing the HARMONICA?\n\nI could barely utter a syllable as he sat there placidly, playing. But the ungodly rage that I felt suddenly exploded and I uttered just one word: \"You.\"\n\nThe devil stopped playing the harmonica and met my eyes with his own fire-filled ones. \"Me.\"\n\nWe stared at each other for a long moment. I was tempted to pull out my fiddle and start waving it in his face, but I realized i'd left it back on the river bank on that lazy afternoon. Foolish, really, to leave a golden fiddle on a river bank. But we were trustworthy folk, in Georgia. And i'd already met my greatest enemy.\n\n\"What am I doin' here? I thought I chased you away for good.\"\n\nThe devil leveled his gaze at me, and spoke in a low voice. \"We aren't in Georgia anymore, boy.\"\n\nA new realization washed over me, and I knew he was exactly right. \"Then we're in your house now, huh?\"\n\n\"That would be correct.\"\n\nAs I noticed how empty it was, I gathered the courage to ask a question. \"Then how come nobody's here?\" \n\nThe devil stared at me and said, \"I don't have to tell you anything.\" I stood and waited for a beat. Then, more hesitantly, the devil rumbled, \"They're all gone. My righteous and merciful Father let them go to Heaven. You can go too. Get out.\" \n\nI was astonished at that. God, letting all of the sinners go to Heaven? The devil telling me to leave? That seemed uncharacteristic of what I knew of him, of the both of them, really. Years ago, when he challenged me to a fiddlin' duel, my soul for a golden fiddle, he seemed like he would do anything to get my soul, and the souls of my fellow Georgians to boot. I didn't know what to think about the fact that he was no longer in charge of souls period. After a few more beats of silence and me looking at the devil's disgruntled face (which looked like how you would think the devil would look), I realized I didn't like that answer. I didn't like being told where to go, especially by the devil. And I found it suspicious that the souls were all gone. Not even God had kept many tabs on me, as he'd never come down to earth to check on me and figure out how i'd lived so long. But apparently God had changed the rules, or the devil had, and I didn't like what that might mean for me. Or how i'd gotten here when everyone was going to heaven now. Slowly, as I stood there staring down the devil, an idea formed. A really stupid idea, one I hadn't had since that fiddlin' duel 100 years ago.\n\n\"Alright, devil. I don't know what you're up to, but I don't like it. You say there's nobody down here 'cause God says so? Well you and me, we're gonna go see God. I think it's about time I gave him a talkin' too anyway.\" \n\nThe devil continued to sit where he was. He didn't like being ordered around, either. He said, \"I'm not moving. I quite like it down here without all the noise. Gives me a chance to focus on my music.\" But I could tell that he was lying. He missed being able to torture all those souls, and there was a hunger in his eyes which couldn't be sated. \"Oh no, you don't, you slippery old...devil,\" I finished lamely. \"You're comin' with me.\" I moved to grab the devil's arm.\n\n\"I wouldn't touch me if I were you, boy.\"\n\nI realized that might be an even stupider idea. But then: a lightbulb came on. The only way you could get the devil to do anything was to make a deal with him. And, i'll be damned, I loved makin' deals as much as he did. I stroked my nonexistent chin hair for a minute and said, \"Alright, devil. If you won't move, then i'll make you deal.\" The devil perked up, then. I continued. \"If you come with me to see God, i'll give you a rematch on that fiddle duel we had. If you win, you get the fiddle back and as many souls in Georgia as you fill up in this place. But if I win...I get to go back to Earth and live out the rest of my immortal life...do we got a deal or what?\"\n\nThe devil looked at me again, as a slow, sinister smile spread across his crimson face. He held out his hand to me and said, \"it's a deal...Johnny.\"\n\n\n\n\n",
"There's elevator music, and then there's this fucking cacophony. Whatever the fuck was playing over the speakers, it needed to stop asap. It sounded like someone was deepthroating a harmonica while getting assfucked by a trombone. Yeah, not a pretty picture. I glanced around the cabin and saw the same disdainful looks on my companions' faces. \n\t\"Literally, what the fuck man?\" a young girl uttered. \n She couldn't have been more than 8 or 9 years old. Cradling a DS in her hand and rocking some sweet Bose headphones, she looked aptly upset with her current situation. She noticed my bewilderment and said \"Oh please, not like you've never heard a kid wear before.\"\n\nFuck, she was right. I blinked in approval and went about my business. As the elevator rose and rose, gently beeping as it ascended to the top, I realized that I had no fucking idea where this was going. \n\nI tapped the little girl on the shoulder and asked, \"which floor is this going to?\" \n\t\"Are you fucking kidding me? It's going to the top you retard.\" \n \"Well yes you little shit, I can see that on the panel. I'm asking you what's actually on the top floor?\nShe leered at me with beady black eyes. I could tell that she was gradually coming closer and closer to the same confusion I had. \"I... don't know.\" \n\nI blinked at her as if to say \"who's the retard now?\" She shrugged and pulled her headphones close to her ears and blasted Meghan Trainor. God, what I would give to have those noise cancellers. \n\tI turned around and surveyed the rest of my cabin. People of all demographics were crammed into this tiny 5x5 box. As I was busy marveling at what in the exact fuck I got myself into, the elevator rapidly picked up speed. The turbulence was getting noticeably larger and larger by the second. Someone must have been prairie-dogging during our ride, because it smelt like decaying human flesh mixed with year old lentils. While all this was happening by the way, the fucking music was also getting louder and louder. If there was a goddamn button on the elevator to make it stop, I would've hit that faster than Ray J hit Kim Kardashian's fine pre-pregnancy ass. \n\nThen, as if we were all crash dummies in a car hitting a brick wall, the elevator stopped abruptly. We all lurched upwards and fell back into our boots. The doors opened to reveal a tsunami of mist. I couldn't see shit, but I was quite happy with the fact that our friend's shit stained B.O. that was stinking up the cabin was replaced by the sweet smell of perfume. Huh, I've definitely smelt this before, but couldn't exactly figure out what it was. The mist began to fade and we all began to see what was outside. A bright light enveloped the cabin, but this wasn't just any plain old \"white interrogation room\" light. This felt like warm radiant sun. It was intoxicating, and I felt like leaning into the light to be warmed by its rays even more. I closed my eyes and drifted forward. When I exited the cabin, I took a look around. \"The fuck? This looks like heaven,\" I said out loud. A bearded older gentleman who was sitting next to a desk said, \"You're fucking right my man!\" I looked at him and said \"excuse me?\" \n\t\"Yeah dude!\" He chortled as he took my name. \"You must be Ben Forstmann?\" \n\t\n\"Yes, that's me. How did you..?\"\n\t\n\"Age 29, cause of death: Alcohol overdose. Man... must've been a helluva way to go buddy!\"\n\nI couldn't believe what I was hearing... I was.. dead? But how? \n\t\n\"What are you saying?\"\n\n\"I'm saying you're dead, and you just spent an eternity in hell. That elevator you saw there? That was a rift caused by some massive fuck up downstairs. We've been getting hordes of you lot coming up and down that street all day. You've our 500th batch today. Here, take a ticket and hop onto that spot over there.\"\n\n\"Um.. ok.\"\nAs I strode back to line, I had trouble remembering what exactly put me in this situation. \n\n\"Hey old dude, why can't I remember anything?\" I yelled.\n\n\"Oh, yeah, when you pass into this elevator, you felt happiness for the first time since you entered the *ahem* nether regions. It caused a chemical reaction so significant your senses were wiped transiently. Maybe that's why you feel like you have the worst hangover in history.\"\nHe was right, my head felt like Kimbo Slice hit it with a bag of bricks. I stood patiently for my turn to arrive, and as I handed over my ticket to the old guy, the fucking harmonica started up again.\n\n\"Fuck, not this shit again.\" \nI turned around to see the doors of the elevator open. Expecting an empty cabin, I was surprised to see something glimmering in the sunlight. Something familiar. I walked over to see what it was, and there was that smell again.. Smelt like, perfume, maybe? I focused my eyes on the floor and started to see what it was: my wedding ring. \n\n\"Must've fell out of my pocket\" I uttered. I went into the cabin to pick it up, and as I was leaving the doors suddenly slammed shut. \"Yo what the fuck!\" I hurriedly pressed \"OPEN\" for what felt like another eternity, but the damn door wouldn't budge. Suddenly, the cabin started moving. \"OH NO NO NO\". The music kept getting louder as the cabin fell down the path it came. It must've been going 100 miles an hour, because I was definitely floating. I began to cry as I realized exactly what was happening. \n\nWhen the elevator finally stopped, a heatwave washed over me as i opened the doors. The music continued to blare, except now it felt like I was hearing it from outside the elevator. I tried to press close and the \"TOP\" button again, but it seemed broken. I figured that since I didn't have a PhD in mechanical fucking engineering, I might as well haul my ass out of this box and follow the noise. Despite what ever horror movie ever told me, I decided it was better than staying here and hoping for the elevator to work. It seemed like an endless hallway at first. It was a maroon carpet with a nice black wood finish. It smelled like cinnamon buns. For all the shit this guy got, he's at least got style. I walked closer and closer to the source of the noise, and found a tall gaut figure sitting in a big study on a chair that felt like it was 15 feet tall. \n\n\"Welcome back Ben.\"\n\n\"What the actual hell is happening? \nThe tall figure chuckled. Good joke, I guess. \n\n\"You tell me. The elevator was a glitch in the system, but before your ride we rigged it to operate on will. Nearly everyone in that cabin wanted to get out except for you. Why is that?\"\n\n\"What do you mean 'why is that?'! My fucking wedding ring was there in the cabin and I couldn't let it go.\"\n\n\"Ben, did the doors shut as soon as you came into the elevator?\"\n\n\"Yes..\"\n\n\"Then you already made your decision. The elevator simply brought you back to where you wanted to be.\"\nI didn't understand what was going on. Why did I want to be back in Hell, out of all places? \n\n\"Why would I put myself back here? I missed my wife and wanted my ring back.\"\nThe dark figure took several long moments to ponder my answer. He looked at me, and I didn't see a face but a collection of waltzing shadows hiding what must have been the most horrid memories of my life. I felt palpable fear in my heart whenever I look that \"face.\"\n\n\"Ben, do you remember how you died?\"\n\n\"Some dude up there said it was a alcohol intoxication.\"\n\n\"Yes, but that's not what I asked. Do you remember HOW you died?\"\nI was about to answer \"yes!\" but I took a moment to figure it all out. I strained to remember what seemed like a laughter, a loud noise, and blackness. \"I...was...\"\n\n\"Yes, go on...\"\n\n\"I was with my wife. I think we were in a car, maybe. Yes, yes, we were in a car. We were laughing and driving on the countryside underneath a beautiful sunset. It was my 29th birthday and we were on our way to see her parents for the weekend.\"\nAt this point the dark figure stood up from his chair and went over to a corner. As I was narrating my story he brought out what seemed like a tall glass bottle.\n\n\"I think we had a few drinks... yes, we must have been drinking. She never let me get close to her unless she had a few shots. Oh god, I shouldn't have been driving. I was already several bottles in.\"\n\n\"Seems to me that you made a judgement call.\"\n\n\"Yeah. We were driving down the road and I looked over at her face. 5 years of marriage to the most beautiful woman in the world. Yet, she began to resent me for whatever reason. I couldn't get her to love me like she used to. Like she used to before I started drinking...\"\nThe figure took out a glass.\n\n\"As we were winding around a corner, I didn't see the truck coming. A big red truck, like those firetrucks I used to play with when I was younger. Seemed like time slowed down as I fought against the steering wheel. Unfortunately, it didn't slow down fucking enough...\"\n\nI began to cry as I recalled it. My stupid fucking ego couldn't take it that I couldn't drive drunk that day. She insisted on calling a cab, but I told her that I was good to go and that it was my birthday and she should let me do something fun for once. She looked at me with sadness in her eyes and eventually let in. That would be the last time she would ever look at me with pity. \n\n\"I had a problem. Haven't been able to put down the bottle since graduation. My life hasn't been the same since. Everyone else has moved onto big careers and families, and I'm stuck her with a wife and a mortgage I can't pay since I got laid off. I lied to her about those AA meetings. I'm sorry. I have a problem.\"\n\nThe figure took a moment before speaking. \n\n\"Did you come back here to get your ring because you missed your wife or...?\"\nI was silent. \n\n\"Have a seat over there Ben.\"\nI sat down. The figure strode forward and handed me a glass. \n\n\"It'll be all right. You'll never leave me again will you?\"\n\n\"No.... No I won't.\"",
"I walked kind of frantically towards the door at the end of the hall. It was super eerie and quiet all around me, I felt like at any moment someone, or something, was going to pop out of one of the doors surrounding me and do only God knows what. I quickened my pace towards the sound of the blues being blasted out of a harmonica.\n\nIt sounded more and more like something out of an old western prison scene as I grew nearer. The passion and anguish tugged at my heart with every note. I almost forgot how goddamn hot it was down here.\n\nAs I neared the entrance to the door the music stopped suddenly and a whiny voice called out to me, \"Fuck off then, mate. Get the fuck out of here with the rest of them.\" \n\nI opened the door and almost had a heart attack. Before me sat a massive creature, he looked as though he was 10 feet tall and sat slouched on a throne of skulls. \"What the fuck yer doin' 'ere then? I told ya fuck off.\"\n\n\"Satan....y-you're Satan?\" I stammered.\n\n\"No ya bloody idiot, I'm Santa Clause.\" \n\n\"Why are you talking in an Englis...no, Australian accent?\"\n\n\"Well, obviously, because I'm from down under, now leave before I kill you.\"\n\n\"But-\"\n\n\"I said FUCK OFF!\" the devil interrupted me. \"Leave with the rest of them, Hell isn't cool anymore. Once God, that cunt....once He decided to take all the 'cool kids' back Hell is the worst place in the universe.\"\n\n\"But isn't...nevermind, why would He want to take all of them back into heaven? Isn't the point to punish them for eternity?\"\n\n\"Well, that's what the bastard is doing, you humans got it all wrong. You see you always had a choice of where to go...it's just based on your character as a default. No one is being punished, but there's just two different choices, one for the losers, Heaven, and one for the cool kids, Hell. Down here, man could we fuckin party mate! And the girls, oh, the girls...Anyways, this fuckin loser's son Jesus started telling everyone drugs and alcohol were bad and would ruin eternity for them and now the dipsticks are all scared of me because of what they learned on Earth, and Jesus's fuckin lies!\"\n\n\"So let me get this straight, you, the Devil, Lucifer, the ultimate corrupter, are sitting here sulking all because Jesus stole your bitches?\"\n\nSatan sulked and slumped further in his chair. \"They have everyone whose ever lived up there now. We'll never reopen now.\"\n\n\"No, we're going to fix this. Now sit up and listen to me you fuckin pussy!\"\n\nSatan sat up and looked at me inquisitively. \n\n\"All we gotta do is remind everyone that you can't die down here, yanno because we're already dead...\"\n\nSatan sat up a little straighter and urged me on with his eyes. The loneliness seemed to give way to something...something that resembled hope.\n\n\"So...\"\n\n\"So? So what?!!?!\" His voice rumbled through the chamber.\n\n\"So, we just need to bring the party back to hell! Don't you have a drug dealer or something? And booze, we need booze and girls. Grey goose and some Patrón-\"\n\n\"Did someone say El Patrón? You know what they say, speak of the...\"\n\n\"Don Pablo!!!\" The devil screamed like a preteen girl at the sight of Justin Bieber. I was utterly speechless, who knew killing yourself could turn into such a fuckin hassle.\n\n\"Mijo, listen to me, I know how to bring everyone back down to our fiesta.\" I stood there looking like a slack-jawwed idiot as I watched the devil get up from the throne he sat upon and make way for THE Pablo Escobar. Pablo sauntered up to the steps and slowly ascended to the throne.\n\n\"Wait, hold on a minute, you're the one in charge down here? That's-\" the Devil slapped me so hard I flew back 20 feet into a wall. \n\n\"Do not speak ill of Don Pablo.\"\n\n\"Now listen to me, Diablo, mijo, we have a shipment coming in from Hades soon, when that comes in mis asociados will begin to push it to the low lives on the streets of Heaven. Your little friend here can get naked and head into the packaging room and we can discuss bringing Zeus and Ares over to discuss...business.\"\n\n\"Wait, wait! Hold on, let me help you guys I stuck around when no one else did don't make me your bitch please Don Pablo.\" I begged for mercy for the first time in my existence that day, not from God or from the Devil himself, but none other than Pablo Fucking Escobar. The Columbian cocaine emperor. Literally the most powerful man to ever exist.\n\n\"Mm. Okay pinche puta, you can help us. When the shipment arrives you can transport it to Heaven for us, and soon we will restore our Home to its former glorious state of debauchery.\"\n\nAnd so began my eternal service to the real Devil himself. We flooded the streets of Heaven with sweet Peruvian booger sugar and brought some of the toughest party animals of all time back down to the dark side. Genghis Kahn, Joseph Stalin, Ben Franklin, Thomas Edison, and Chris Farley were among the first to return. For the next 1000 years we let the party rage, stealing the bitches back from Jesus and God and never sleeping thanks to Don Pablo's multiple plugs. I think at one point I banged Lindsay Lohan for like 3 months, but that was a rough patch and may have just been her career. It was the sickest rager in the history of eternity, and nothing changed until the turn of the next millenia, humans on Earth had finally done away with cigarettes entirely...and Keith Richards showed up.\n\n",
"I arrived like anyone would arrive.\nA small dose of confusion, a vague sequence of flashbacks to a less than satisfactory life, and a recognition it was far hotter than normal. \n\nI began to sweat almost immediately. \n\nLooking around me, what I saw was almost beautiful in its apocalyptic appearance. Large caverns stretching into empty dark nothingness. Canyons into what could only be described as churning blood below. My feet seemed to walk on their own accord as I wandered further into the catacombs. Despite the sweltering heat, the walls were cool to the touch. Even the air was crisp and breathable. It almost seemed as if the heat were coming from a fever, the more I traversed the tunnels. \n\nAs I went, I realized I was descending. The thick maroon waterways rising closer to me each time I reached an open space. \n\nThe memories were coming more frequently, at greater length now. A small apartment came into view, liquor bottles and cockroaches were everywhere. There were flashes of a woman's angry eyes, then tears. There was a numbness to my left arm and a slowness of breath. Then the sound of a belt coming undone. Flashing red and blue lights filling the frost covered windows, then nothing. \n\nIt could have been a bad dream, still, I think I always knew where I was. \n\nFinally, when I shook off the fog of a past life, I found myself walking through an opening to a vast space. As I scanned the rubble, I realized there were streets and buildings, chains busted from the doors, fire licking up from floating streetlamps. In the far distance statues carved to resemble gargoyles and giants, angels and serpents. It all seemed to be reminiscent of a labyrinth, taking me to the once beating heart of a parched, dark Atlantis. \n\nHer final words started ringing in my ears\n\"You promised me you'd be different, look at the mess You've made. You swore when you got back, things would change.\"\n\nThen I saw him, well no. I guess I heard him. \n\nAs I was passing the last of the winding brick and stucco walls, a soft weeping melody, in A minor. \n\nI descended into the basin of a large square and there he was. Leaning against a sand filled fountain in the center. Not what I imagined. No horns to speak of, no tail either. The only sense I was meeting something other worldly was the strange thin air surrounding us, and a hint of eery calm to it all. When he heard my footsteps he lifted his head, not breaking melody and opened his eyes. One red, one blue, both tearful. As I reached the bottom of the staircase, he stood straight, and breathed his last note into the instrument. It came out a somber baritone.\n\nHe smiled. \n\n\"I've been waiting, praying for you for an eternity.\"\n\nAs soon as that, he vanished, just like fog in the sunlight. \n\nI could feel a sudden heaviness in my pocket. \n\nReaching down, I pulled out a small silver harmonica. I walked over to the fountain, leaned my back against it, took up a C note, and I've been here ever since. Just been here, waiting for you to come. \n\nI'll see you soon. \n",
"The bar was quiet when Josh walked in. 'How long had it been since I was last here?' He thought to himself as he crossed the floor toward the corner stage. The bar's patron sat on a stool on that stage, softly playing [an old song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YYsnRc09csQ) on his harmonica. Josh waited for the slow, mournful blues tune to end. Josh clapped as the other gentlemen stood and bowed.\n\n\"So nice to see you,\" He said to Josh with a twinge of bitterness in his voice. \"so few come by nowadays.\" Josh winced slightly at the statement; not because of it's vindictive nature, but at the barely disguised pain he heard behind the bitterness. \"Care for a drink, Scratch?\" Josh asked, using one of the more playful nicknames for the establishment's owner. Scratch agreed.\n\nAn eternity seemed to pass. Considering the circumstances, an eternity probably *did* pass. Finally, Scratch asked the important question; \n\n\"Why did you do it, kid?\" \n\n\"I think you already know.\" Josh responded.\n\n\"You know, as well as I do, that they don't deserve it. You and your dad will regret this decision.\" Scratch said.\n\n\"I doubt it. But then again, I've always had more faith in them than most.\" Josh replied. The room grew silent again.\n\n\"So, what are you *really* here for? Your job is done, why come back?\" Scratch asked suddenly. Josh took a breath, then spoke, \"It's a job offer. We want you back with us. You'll be working with people again, and it would be a big improvement over an empty dive. Come and work for the good guys, Cypher.\" Josh used a new name for the old musician, based closely on Scratch's original title, just like 'Josh' was an approximation of his own original name.\n\n\"I appreciate the offer, kid, but no thanks.\" Josh was confused at the answer, but accepted it as always. \"Why?\" he asked.\n\n\"As one of our favorite writers once said, 'Tis better to reign in Hell, than serve in Heaven.\" Scratch replied. \n\nJosh chuckled at that. \"Well, if you ever change your mind, you know the way.\" With that, he walked out the door. It creaked as it closed behind him.\n\n\"Yeah, I know.\" Scratch said to the empty room, then went back to playing.",
"I turned down yet another path in a seemingly endless series of caverns, finally seeing some form of light at the end of the tunnel. My feet ached and my eyes were sore from squinting in the gloom, but finally there was light. \n\nStepping out of the tunnel, I found myself in a massive cavern, lit with torches, ringed with empty thrones meant for awesome and cruel masters. It seemed to stretch upward forever, fading into dark without any sign of end. There was music from somewhere, a soulful and bluesy tune. Reminded me of the songs my dad taught me when I was a kid. I don't know what I expected, but it wasn't this. I expected a little more foot traffic. \n\n\"Excuse me?\" I called into the gloom. My words reverberated off the walls and echoed up the chamber. *Something's wrong,* I thought. *One expects some manner of greeting party, maybe an orientation, at the very least some security at the gates of Hell. All I see are stones and flames. I hear nothing the but the wistful notes of the song.* \n\n\"Is anybody home?\" I called out again. The music stopped, cut off mid-melody, the last staccato note dying just as a new sound began; the beating of great, heavy wings. The chamber filled with a torrent of air as a shape began to coalesce in the darkness above. A massive beast, larger than any living creature that walks the earth, descended from the black above. His great scaled feet smashed into the earthen floor, large cruel talons digging into the rock. His skin had the red luminescence of magma, and his eyes were rings of flame. \n\n\"You have disturbed my peace, mortal!\" the beast cried, his mighty voice shaking the very ground below me. \"What seek you in this place? Why come before the great and terrible Lucifer, prince of Darkness?\"\n\nHe lowered his head to look at me, one great eye fixed upon me. For a moment, fear held me. Then, I cleared my throat and spoke.\n\n\"Ahem, well, um, I'm here to file for a B-32 post-Corporeal? I was told I need to bring this to your department directly for approval.\" I reached into my jacket and pulled out a manila envelope, offering it to him. The lord of darkness sighed a great sigh, bathing me in warm breath. \n\n\"Very well,\" he said, \"give me the document.\" He took the envelope from my hands and put on his massive, evil eyeglasses. He skimmed through the paperwork for a moment, muttering to himself. \n\n\"Do you have two forms of photo ID with you?\" he asked. \n\n\"They're in the envelope,\" I shouted up to him.\n\n\"Hm, yes, so they are.\" He read for another moment or two. \n\n\"This is your current address on here?\" he said, pointing to a line on the paper. I nodded, and he continued reading. I crossed my arms and rock back and forth a little, looking around with the aimless nature of curiosity and boredom. The wait seemed to go on forever. Satan, King of Evil, wrote something in pen on the margins of the paper and handed it back. \n\n\"That looks like it's all in order,\" he said, \"But you'll have to file a P-906 before February if you want to keep your soul after the first 300 centuries.\"\n\n\"Great, thanks,\" I said. I looked back into the gloom behind me, tucking the envelope back into my pocket. I turned back to Satan for a moment. \"Which, um...?\" I began. \n\n\"Back through the cave you came through, third tunnel on your right, then two lefts and you're out\" he said, then flew back up into the darkness. As I walked back into the cave, I could hear the metal hum of a harmonica from somewhere far away. \n\n",
"\"OH SHI-\" were the last syllables that ever escaped my mouth while still on Earth. As far as I can figure the crash killed me instantly, probably decapitating me. But that's all in the past now, I'm over it. I mean, it's not everyday you get to discover that there is indeed an afterlife, right? Only it's not exactly how I expected it to be. Don't get me wrong, I knew I was going to Hell, I just didn't expect it to be so...empty. \n\nAs I walked through the hallways I realized they look almost identical to the halls of my high school, only with a tad bit more blood running down the walls. I roamed the halls until I happened upon some stairs that descended into a massive cavern, with fire lighting the walls, and standing torches illuminating the path to the center platform. Besides the stairs, the platform was the only surface to walk on. It was like an enormous pillar jutting out of a fiery pit. In the center of this platform, sat a depressed looking Satan on a throne of bones. \n\nI walked down the stairs and as I approached the throne I said \"Hey man, you doin ok?\" He looked at me, clearly very upset and cried out \"Am I ok? Am I ok? LOOK AROUND! There's no one here!\" I was taken aback slightly, but replied \"Well what happened?\" His face scrunched up. \"It's that douchelord Gabriel. Ever since I got sent down here he thinks he's SOOOO much better than me. Well this time he messed up. He thinks he can just waltz down here and steal the souls that were allocated to me? No way Jose. Not on my watch. So THIS time, this time I get my revenge.\" \n\nExtremely curious as to what the master of deceit and twisted acts would have up his sleeve for revenge on his enemies, I asked \"So...what are you gonna do to him?\" His expression turned to a twisted grin and he said \"You'll see.\" \n\nWith a snap of his fingers we were teleported to the parking lot of a diner in what appeared to be a small country town, and Satan was disguised as a good ole country boy. \"What are we doing here?\" I asked. Lucy snapped \"You humans. Why can you never just be patient and appreciate a good surprise every now and then?\" With that I shut up, not wanting to anger him any more. We walked inside and sat down at a corner booth that enabled us to view the entire diner. \n\nSatan whispered \"See that guy over there in the big cowboy hat?\" I nodded. \"That's Gabriel. It's his unlucky day.\" I still had no clue of what was to come but I was sure it would be horrendous. Gabriel looked to be nearing the end of his meal, and a waitress brought him his desert, a raspberry pie. Satan giggled like a school boy and said \"Here it comes!\" and as soon as Gabriel cut into his pie, it exploded, getting pie all over him, but causing no real damage. \n\nSatan doubled over with laughter and snapped a picture of Gabriel covered in pie with a Polaroid camera. Gabriel looked over to us, visibly confused about what had just happened, until it finally dawned on him who my companion was. \"Satan\" he growled. Then as quickly as we had gotten there we were back in hell on the pillar. \n\nThe Lord of Darkness was still laughing incessantly, but just managed to get out the words \"Did...did you see his face?\" between giggles. \"Yes. Yes I did.\" I replied. \"But is that the best you could do?\" I asked. He took a second and said \"Well...it was a little impromptu...but you have to admit that was a great gag!\" \"Yeah I suppose so\" I said \"I guess I just expected the Lord of all that is unholy to be a little more...devious.\" He looked offended. \"Look\" he said, \"Just because I'm the ruler of Hell doesn't mean I don't like to have some innocent fun sometimes.\" I considered it for a moment. \"Fair enough\" I responded, \"It was a pretty fun prank.\" \n\nI could tell he wanted to say something, but he seemed almost...nervous? \"Would...would you maybe want to stay down here with me and keep me company? I know Gabriel can take you to Heaven and all, but I'm really lonely, and you seem like a cool guy!\" I was shocked at his offer. Stay in Hell when I could go to Heaven? Why in the world would I do that? Then I started thinking about the past hour and I thought, \"Why not? He is lonely, and he does seem like an ok enough guy...\" \"So you'll do it?!\" he practically shouted. \"Oh sorry, I was reading your mind\" he added. \"Well...as long as you don't do the whole mind reading thing all the time, I'll stay.\" I said. He looked ecstatic. \"YES! FINALLY A FRIEND!\" Satan hopped off his thrown and said \"Come on, let me show you around!\" And with that we walked up the stairs and I began my life in Hell as Satan's bestie.\n\nHey guys so I've never really done one of these before so feedback is welcome! I know it's long, but I don't really write often and the idea just kinda took off! Anyway, hope you like it :)\n\nEdit: broke up wall of text",
"Black. Nothing. Am I asleep? No. Can't wake up. Am I..... Am I dead? Think... Oh. I remember. Oh God.\n\n\"Ha! Wrong name pal. Call me Lucy.\" A warm sweet voice called out. \n\nWho? What is happening? Where is the voice?\n\n\"Lucy! The Fallen One. You just died, honey. And I'm over here, open your eyes for me.\" She coaxes me.\n\nI slowly blink a few times. I'm suddenly aware that I'm back in my childhood home. I can smell the drool-inducing scent of my father's waffles wafting through the old stucco house. I look over to see a blond woman, sitting at the corner of my bed. \n\n\"Where am I? When am I?\" I stammer.\n\n\"Why, you're in hell!\" She smiled warmly. \n\nWhat? What? Actual hell?\n\n\"That can't be right. This is my old home. I'm in bed. It's just you and I here. This has to be a dream.\" I reason out loud. \n\n\"Oh trust me, honey. This is hell. I'm here to help you transition. See, hell isn't fire and brimstone. Not always. Some people live a heavenly life, but they live it poorly, and end up here. Their experiences tend to be of the torture garden variety.\" She patiently explained.\n\n\"Then what about me? Am I on my way to a pain buffet?\" I asked nervously.\n\n\"No. Others, like you, live a hellish life, and committed sins because of the situation you were put in, and yet still deemed unworthy of heaven. However I've always felt that \"hell\" can be loosely defined...\" she said with a smirk. \n\n\"I don't understand.\" \n\n\"Lucy's Loophole. The man upstairs is still fuming because our main Hell property is dead these days. I've even turned it into my private music studio!\" Her eyes lit up at the mention of music. \n\n\"You play?\" I was warming up to this Lucy. \n\n\"Just harmonica.\" She smiled. \"Anyhoo! My loophole is I've developed these 'personal hells' for individuals whom I have judged to have already gone through hell. I return these chosen to where they felt most safe and loved. You have been through enough, dear one. But should you ever grow lonely here, I give lessons on the main property!\"\n\nI laughed. \"I may have to take you up on that sometime!\"\n\nI gasped. It all went dark for a moment. My parent's home. My sister came back. She was off her medication. I was there for Mother's Day. She came with an axe, she just kept swinging it and screaming. Those blood curdling screams. My mom's and dad's mixing with my own. And then her laughter. Her harsh laughter grew more manic as did the puddle of blood around me. I can't. \n\nBlack. \n\n\"Woah there! You alright?\" Lucy was cradling my head. \n\n\"What happened?\" I panted.\n\n\"Your transition. You can't be here for eternity without accepting the end to your past.\" She was so kind, I wished she would stay with me here forever.\n\n\"I accept what happened, but that doesn't make it okay. It doesn't mean I'm okay...\" I trail off, tears threatening to spill over.\n\n\"You're safe now. And if you'd like, I offer free therapy sessions in the main property, right next door to my music studio! I would love you to come by. Some music therapy is just what you need!\" \n\nSo kind. I closed my eyes. I am safe. I can move on. I can begin to heal. I am safe.\n\nSoft harmonica cords floated through the air, and danced into my mind. \n\nSafe. \n\n",
"The sound of a harmonica fills her ears as her eyes open and all she can see is a lightly illuminated ceiling. The music has a melancholy tone to it. It sounds so lonely. The last thing she remembers was...She can't seem to recall the last thing she did. She runs her hands over the carpet that she finds herself lying on, it's very soft and comforting to her for some reason, for a few seconds before she sits up. Her neck feels kind of sore but she doesn't remember hurting it. \n\n\"Hello.\" She turn towards the voice and her eyes are met with the back of a recliner in front of a lit fireplace. She can see a hand holding a glass of liquid. She assumes it's some kind of liquor but it could be something else. She stands straightening our her clothes before she approaches this stranger. \"Have a seat.\" The hand with the glass gestures to a wooden chair next to them. She does as she's told and prepares to sit but when she looks over to the person sitting in the recliner, she stops. A stunningly gorgeous man ignores her gaze as he stares into the fire, the light dancing around his face. He's wearing a suit which looks quite nice on him. He takes a sip of his drink. \"Ask away. I'm sure you have questions.\"\n\n\"Who are you?\" That was the only question floating around in her mind. \n\n\"I'm Lucifer.\" He says still staring into the fire.\n\nA laugh bubbles up her throat. Suddenly, she's bent over holding her stomach as a raucous laugh escapes her mouth. Her eyes start to water after a few minutes. It takes a bit of time for her to collect herself as she sighs, still giggling occasionally.\n\n\"I haven't heard anyone laugh like that for quite some time.\" He sighs. \"But, that doesn't change the fact that I'm the devil and you're in hell.\"\n\n\"Prove it.\" She cocks her head curiously. The man sighs again but more heavily this time as his form changes. His arms and legs lengthen, his fingers begin to resemble claws and his feet transform into hooves. A tail curls up from under his bottom and horns slowly, ever so slowly, sprout from his head. He goes from a gorgeous man to a beast. He takes his time and stays in this form for no more than a few seconds before changing back into a man. \"Huh,\" she says, \"I guess you really are the devil.\" \n\n\"You seem pretty calm about this whole thing.\" He glances at her, his eyes the color of ice, interested by her response to him. \"Aren't you going to beg to be sent to heaven? Make excuses of why you don't belong here? Cry?\"\n\n\"No. I figure if I'm here I did something to deserve it.\" She shrugs her shoulders.\n\n\"You can sit, you know?\" He quirks his eyebrow. So she does as he looks back into the fire. He takes a sip of his drink. \n\n\"What are you drinking?\"\n\n\"Whiskey.\"\n\n\"Can I have some?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Fine.\" She's getting a little frustrated with his one word answers and his disinterest in her. \"Where are we?\"\n\n\"My home.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"Because.\"\n\n\"Isn't there supposed to be demons or whatever?\"\n\n\"Gone.\"\n\n\"Where?\"\n\nHe looks over to her, clearly annoyed. \"Does it matter?\"\n\n\"Kind of.\" She looks right back into his piercing, cold eyes. \"Why were you playing such a lonely melody? Is it because everyone's gone?\" Suddenly he's right in her face barely more than an inch away; his hands on either arm rest trapping her. She jumps a bit.\n\nHe stares hard at her, looking for any sign of fear in her eyes. She just sits calmly. There was nothing. No fear at all. \"You don't remember anything, do you?\" She shakes her head. \n\n\"My neck's a bit sore, though.\"\n\n\"Of course, it is.\" He sighs and let's his head hang, running a hand through his sleek black hair, before going over to a window. \"Come.\" He commands. She goes to stand next to him and a small gasp escapes her lips. There was a field of grass outside of the house. At the edges, there was only reddish brown dirt. The sky was like a void, just blackness. The scene in front of her was somehow soothing. But what surprised her wasn't the fire that ran parallel to the vast expanse of dirt, it was the fact that there was literally no one. Not a single soul. He said that the demon's were gone but she wasn't expecting *all* of them to be gone. There wasn't even a demon butler at his command.\n\n\"Where did they all go?\" She whispered.\n\n\"To heaven.\" Again, there was a glass of whiskey in his hand which he took a long sip of before swirling it around. \"I guess God banishing me from Heaven wasn't punishment enough. He came and made this huge announcement. 'Everyone is hereby forgiven of their sins and may enter into my kingdom.'\" Lucifer mocked in a high-pitched voice that made her smile. There was a smirk on his face in reply but it was quickly gone. \"Everyone got pardoned, except me obviously, and now anyone who comes here can be cleansed and be on their way.\"\n\n\"Even Hitler?\"\n\n\"Even Hitler.\" He sighed heavily again. \"Why would anyone want to stay in hell when there's paradise waiting for them? It's the logical thing to do.\" He set his glass down on the windowsill. \"So, you want to go right?\"\n\n\"I don't know.\" She stared out the window, and thought of the song she heard him playing before. It was so lonely and full of longing. She wouldn't want to spend eternity alone. She absentmindedly rubbed her neck as she thought of how someone would survive an existence with no one by their side. \"Can you tell me what I did to end up here?\"\n\n\"Are you sure you want to know?\" He cocked his eyebrow and he turned around to lean back. His elbows on the windowsill with his hands crossed in front of him. \"Does it matter if you're going to heaven anyway?\"\n\n\"I want to know.\" She went back to her chair. \"I want to decide for myself if I want to go.\"\n\nLucifer watched her intently as she processed. \"I hate to tell you this but I don't know either.\" He was feeling a little protective of this woman, he didn't like it but he did. He saw everything that happened to the people who came here. He could see the memories that she couldn't remember. He watched her write a note. He watched her kick over the chair she was standing on and he watched her twitch until she died. He hadn't felt this way since his wife. He grabbed his glass and returned to his recliner. \"You're free to go.\" He waved his hand dismissively as he looked into the fire. \n\n\"I want to stay.\" She blurted. \"I would rather stay here.\"\n\n\"Why? Everyone jumps at the chance to go to Heaven and you want to stay in the Fire Pit?\"\n\n\"Yeah.\" She sighed. \"I've never really believed in you or God, but I do believe in fate and if that's what brought me here then this is where I'm supposed to be.\"\n\n\"You do know what I do to people right?\"\n\n\"I'm aware.\"\n\n\"And you *still* want to stay?\"\n\n\"Yes.\" He looked at her as if she had lost her mind but he knew that he wouldn't torture her. She had gone through enough on Earth that she took her own life. \n\n\"There's nothing to do here. It's pretty boring.\"\n\n\"That's fine.\"\n\n\"I play the harmonica all the time.\"\n\n\"I think it's nice.\"\n\n\"You'll see a lot of people come through here, and some of them won't look so nice.\"\n\n\"Then I won't look at them.\"\n\n\"Alright.\" He conceded. \"But you realize that you can't leave right?\" She nodded her head. They stared at each other. Lucifer wondering why this girl was so determined to stay and the girl wondering what it would be like to live with the Devil in Hell. \"Do you like dogs?\" The girl smiled from ear to ear as she nodded her head vigorously. Lucifer got up from his chair so that he could whistle for Cerberus. \n\n\"Rose.\"\n\n\"What?\" Lucifer turned to look at her from the doorway.\n\n\"My name. It's Rose.\"\n\n\"I know.\" Lucifer smirked devilishly at her as a giant dog came running towards the house. \"Come meet my dog, Cerberus.\" Rose's smile never fell from her face.\n\nThousand of years passed. All the people who came to hell almost immediately decided to go to Heaven. Lucifer and Rose passed the time with music, Him on his harmonica and her on the piano, or playing with Cerberus. Rose quickly came to realize that at the edge of Lucifer's lawn was a sheer cliff drop and she would sit out there often, always trying to remember how she died. Lucifer would watch her. He knew that she deserved to know but he didn't know how to bring it up. Sometimes he would sit with her and hold her hand. \n\nOne day as their sitting on the cliff, a gentle breeze blowing, with one of Rose's hands in his and the other running through Cerberus's fur he looks at her. She's got a small smile on her lips, as always, and looks so content but he knows she's trying to remember. '*This is it.*' he decides. He's got to tell her.\n\n\"You hanged yourself.\" He said bluntly.\n\n\"What?\" Her smile falls and her face is full of confusion.\n\n\"That's how you died.\" He sighs. \"That's why you were sent here instead of Heaven.\"\n\n\"Oh.\" She blinked a couple times. There was a long period where neither of them said anything. The memories were coming back to her. She remembered the letter she wrote and how she fought, instinctively, to get out of the noose. \"I was lonely.\" She whispered. It was so quiet it almost couldn't be heard. \"I couldn't take being so depressed and lonely all the time. It was too much.\" Her chest felt tight and there was a lump in her throat. \"I couldn't handle it.\" She croaked.\n\nLucifer watched her intently as she processed. He was afraid that she would want to leave and he would end up alone again. \"I've known but I couldn't bring myself to tell you. You had already gone through so much hell. Unlike what I said when you got here, you can still decide to go to Heaven if you wish.\"\n\n\"Thank you.\" To Lucifer's surprise Rose beamed at him and then looked out into the blazing horizon. \"I won't leave. It's peaceful here and I enjoy spending my days with you.\" She squeezed his hand. \"I love you, you know?\"\n\n\"I love you, too.\" This was the first time he had ever replied and the first time he had said it since his wife left him for paradise. They sat together for a long time after that just looking at the fire as the light danced across their faces.",
"Hi this is my WP debut. I was very inspired by this thread even if I am late to the party! I did this on mobile at work so please excuse any errors. Feed back welcome :) \n\n----------\n\nThe melody of the harmonica quietly resonated throughout the halls. It was a song, sweet as honey. The tune resonated deep within the mind but also pulled at the heart. Blood splattered the walls in an arching crescendo of horror. Bodies, dressed in white lined the floor unmoving. Music quietly continued to dance throughout the abandoned halls calmly, yet curious. \n\nOblivious to state of disjointed harmony inside the complex, the world outside continued to turn. At the door to the complex a tactical team assembled. They formed a silent group of men dressed entirely in black and equipped with riot gear. There was a sudden bang of the main door being breached and subsequent pops as flash bang grenades and smoke grenades skittered, hissing, through the halls. The music stopped on que and the tactical team scattered like mice moving with a flawless, calculated efficiency up, over and around the endless amount of bodies. \n\nAt the last door there was a pause. The entire building was consumed in total silence before the door was collapsed under the weight of a battering ram.\n\nThe tactical team had breached the inner sanctum of my mind. I sat in pause, one leg crossed over the other. The tactical team encircled like sharks drawn to blood. Staring down the barrel of a gun, I stood. I reached out with the harmonica in my left hand. A twisted peace offering. \n\n\"They just wanted to leave\" I said as I let the harmonica tumble to the floor. \n\n",
"\"Finally\", I said to myself after my long awaited death. I was able to leave the material world, not the way I had imagined as a little kid but there is no right or wrong way to leave the earth. Much to my suprise my soul wasn't being transported to a fire fueled inferno but instead I was presented with two different realms. One was heart warming, I immediately understood it was heaven, the other I reasoned was hell but hell didn't give me a despairing feeling it was rather melancholy. Something drove me to proceed into hells realm, maybe it was the all too familiar sad feeling I felt here. \n My soul instantly connected to a being that sat on the edge of a cliff. I've never felt so understood before in my life. The acknowledgment of my existence had me feeling exhilarated, that's all I wanted on earth and here on hell was were I received it. As I walked towards the being I noticed he was playing the harmonica, sweet blue tunes played that resonate with my soul. Every step I took I understood this beast more and more. It was opening up to me I received his memories his feelings and knew this was Satan.\n \" why are you here? I already know who you are and you who I am. I cannot comprehend your decisions in the after life, that is beyond my power. So I ask again, why are you here? He looked at his Harmonica the whole time. \" this place reminds me of home, the atmosphere not the setting.\" I said, \" eventually you get used to the feeling, the feeling that your all alone.\" \" I guess I saw myself in you\" I said. He laughed and said. \" that's my line.\" We basked in loneliness together while he played his harmonica. I spoke, \" I imagine everyone went to heaven, even your demons.\" \" those demons are an extension of me, I created them from fractions of my soul to help me govern hell but they left me here broken.\" \" I linked with you when you entered to help fill the void but you are filled with great sadness instead of anger.\" \" the entrance you came into is the entrance for those who commit suicide.\" \" I cannot leave this place for this place is me.\" \" can you not go to heaven?\" I asked. \" if I walk through that realm I will dissolve, what I am cannot exist in that realm.\" I said, \" so that's your form of suicide. I did it and I met you, the being who I've bonded with the most.\" \" what if there's peace for you past that realm?\" He pondered but did not answer. \n\" walk with me\" I said as I stood up. He stood up and took my hand. He had had enough loneliness for he was quick in his movements, when he was about to take his step through the realm of his home he turned and looked one last time. He blew a mighty breathe and extinguished the flames of hell. \n \" Ready to walk through?\" I asked. \" I suppose, anything to rid this pain. We stepped through the realm to heaven. I saw him dissipate but he wore a smile. I understood the peace he was feeling, I kissed his check and his smile grew. \nAfter I stood at the white gates alone I felt something in my hand. I looked and noticed a metallic shine, he had left me his harmonica. ",
"This wasn’t heaven, I figured that.\n\nI must have overdosed or something… last thing I remember was a night of partying and debauchery… and now I guess I’m paying the price.\n\nBut wouldn’t hell have billions of condemned souls, howling and screaming in undying terror? This looks… empty. I’m all alone here.\n\nThen I hear a faint harmonica. Sounds pretty good. I follow the melody deep into the darkest reaches of the chasm.\n\nThere, faintly lit by a circle of fire, sat a red-skinned beastlike creature. Was this the only demon – or whatever – here?\n\nHe looked up… and smiled. “Pleased to meet you. Just call me Lucifer.”\n\nI was taken aback. “Hang on… THE Lucifer?”\n\n“Yes. This is my domain. Unlike the others who found out how to escape, I can never cross over to the other side. Not that I’d want to, anyway.”\n\nThen he went on for a few hours about what he went through with God, what were the best moments of life down here with his demon friends, the things he did on Earth when he managed to find his way there, some of his favorite condemned souls he got to know, and the gradual desertion of hell when everyone eventually found out they could very well escape, no penalty. He’s been all by himself, more or less, the past fifty years or so. I actually felt sorry for the poor fellow.\n\n“Look, if you want some company, I can hang about for a bit. Hell, I could come back.”\n\n“That’s fine and all… how about we jam together?”\n\n“Cool… how about you start off and I’ll do some blues.”\n\nLucifer then let into a fierce harmonica solo – more intense than what I previously heard – and that’s when I came to.\n\nThe hotel room was a mess. The other guys were sprawled out on the bed and on the floor. A couple of naked ladies were still here, passed out as well. I had a splitting headache. \n\nBut now I had a great idea for a song. I grabbed a beer-stained notepad. I found a pen under the bed next to some empty whiskey bottles.\n\nAnd I started writing everything I could remember Lucifer saying in my dream. I just hope Keith can give me a good enough riff for it later on.\n",
"It was so empty. I never imagined Hell would be this empty, it just made no sense to me.\n\nI have been walking for what seemed like eternity, and I'm not sure if that's what it was, time seemed to be meaningless in here. All I could do was follow a distant sound, far away and yet so close, but I still didn't know what it was.\n\nI came up to a hill, this time I was certain the sound came from here. I had no clue what I would find at the top of the hill. The one single person so bad they are the only inhabitant of hell. Besides *me*, and I didn't know why. I was getting closer, and I could finally make out the music. Blues.\n\nWhen I got to the top I could finally see him, sitting there, playing his harmonica into the vast, empty land before him. He seemed pretty normal save for his red skin. He was sitting in the middle of what seemed like a stage, surrounded by a couple of electric guitars, a bass, and a drum set. I sat behind him and took the bass, trying to remember the little I knew from high school. I played one note, and he immediately turned around, cutting off the music. His eyes were like a snake's, looking at me, examining every detail, silently.\n\n\"Are you Satan?\" - \"You're not too perceptive, are you?\" - \"I think I'm perceptive enough.\" - \"Not enough to see the great damn glowing stairway when you arrived, now you'll have to go all the way back.\" - \"Why would I?\" - \"So you can get to heaven.\" - \"What do you mean? Isn't this supposed to be eternal punishment?\" - \"Well, yeah, but you see, the thing is, God sat down and did some math, and he figured he killed more people than the entire combined strength of hell. The guy hates me, so he decided that instead of coming down here, they all deserved to go up there instead, even Adolf. Even all the damn *executives* were let loose.\" - \"Then why are you still here?\" - \"I helped him with plenty of it. Besides, I like it here.\" - \"If everyone gets up there, then why did I arrive here?\" - \"Heaven's not very good with logistics, they've only had to deal with a handful of people a century until the last few days. My guess is my helpers, the very first few to ever arrive, taught them how we ran things down here, and you probably slipped through the cracks. So, why don't you go up there, the staircase should close when you get to the top.\" - \"And you'll be left here for the rest of eternity?\" - \"Sounds about right.\"\n\nHe turned back and started playing his harmonica again. I got up and headed towards the staircase. His music got louder. I came back. He looked at me, slightly surprised. \"Still here?\" - \"I thought about it, heaven's probably filled to the brim right now, so I figured I would stay a while, if you don't mind.\" - \"Sure, pull up a chair, have you own part of my empire of dirt.\" I sat next to him, playing a simple bass line, and listening to the beautiful sounds of his harmonica.\n\nIt's been quite some time now, but I never felt a need to get up so far.",
"For a while, there had been silence.\n\nHave you ever been on a ride at an amusement park that goes at once from a high speed to a complete stop, or been in a car accident and found yourself thrown against the seat-belt? That is precisely what it felt like when Elliot went to Hell: like he had been going very fast and had suddenly stopped. (And maybe, he would later consider, that was a half-decent summary of death.)\n\nAs if launched upward from a terrible nightmare, he jolted into being, gasping for breath he had not been deprived of. The air smelled like a hospital someone had been smoking in, a tainted sterility. Once his vision pulled into focus, he found himself in what looked like a waiting room. To *what,* he wasn't sure, for it certainly wasn't clean enough to be a hospital, and come to think of it. . . There was no one else waiting. There was no quiet murmur of life. All he could hear was what sounded an awful lot like a harmonica.\n\nAt a cursory search for any staff behind the desk, Elliot found only *him.*\n\nSatan, who was by all means looking terribly bored, was sitting on the intake desk playing the harmonica. This answered one question and gave way to another hundred. The first to come to mind crawled up Elliot's throat before he had time to think about it: \"What the hell?\"\n\nIt became clear then that the devil had not actually seen him until that moment. His eyes flickered up from the spot they had been lazily fixed on, like two great fireballs somehow confined within his eye sockets. It took a moment of squinting for him to open his mouth, baring shark-like teeth. First was a sigh. Then, Satan flatly stated, \"I assume that was supposed to be a joke.\" For all the awful feelings in the world, Satan himself being so clearly unimpressed at Elliot was definitely crawling up the list of the worst.\n\nFurther up on the list was his mounting fear. \"No,\" he forced out after a moment of trying not to stammer. \"No - I just. . .\" His head reeled and he took a few seconds to gather himself. One deep breath in, one shuddering huff out. When he spoke again, he was quieter. \"I'm dead. I'm dead and you're -\"\n\n\"*Yes,* I am he,\" Satan answered tiredly. \"The Devil. Father of lies. Evil itself. Lucifer. Whatever name you choose, this is who stands. . .\" He seemed to reevaluate his statement, and slipped off the desk to stand before Elliot before continuing, \"Who stands before you.\"\n\nStanding, Satan wasn't more than a foot taller than Elliot, but it felt like he towered nonetheless. Yet there was something about him that seemed off. He didn't reek of ego or pride the way he probably should have. If anything, he seemed. . . Was 'sad' the right word? Elliot considered it as he took a cautious glance around. \"This is Hell, isn't it? Where, uh - where *is* everyone?\"\n\n\"They're in Heaven.\"\n\n\"What?\" That didn't make sense. Surely not everyone else who had ever died would be in Heaven. \"You're not telling me that I'm the only person who's ever gone to Hell. That's ridiculous.\"\n\n\"Oh, no,\" Satan answered, starting to pace a slow circle around Elliot. \"I'm not telling you that. You're simply the only person who has ever stayed. And even that remains to be seen.\"\n\nThis only worsened the confusion that Elliot felt about this whole thing, but he was trying to understand. It was made somewhat more difficult by the fact that he was also trying to keep an eye on Satan, and this had caused him to turn slowly in place as the devil circled him. \"I don't understand. I thought people stayed in Hell, like. Forever.\"\n\nWhen Satan laughed, it was an exhausted laugh, but it still drove a cold spike into Elliot's heart. \"Ah, so did we. Suppose I ought to read my contracts better. Regardless, I've no interest in giving you a history lesson. Hell is by all means a dead kingdom. Go on,\" he said, stopping his pacing and giving a grandiose gesture to the doors at the far end of the room. \"Into the hall, the last doors on your right. Heaven lies beyond.\"\n\nThis was far too easy. \"You're not going to torture me?\"\n\n\"My torturers quit, actually. And I'm not in the business, personally.\"\n\n\"So there's no one here but you?\"\n\n\"No,\" Satan snapped. \"There's not. Are you going to keep questioning me, or are you going to leave? I assure you, you won't get *bored* up there. Have your fun.\"\n\nHe began to pace back toward the desk, and in that moment, Elliot caught himself feeling the slightest bit bad for the devil. Liar or otherwise, it did look like he was completely alone here. Everyone had abandoned Hell for greener pastures, and to him, it didn't even look much like Hell anymore. It was simply a drab building, perhaps a little warm and a little musty, with a harmonica and Satan and a chess set.\n\nHis eyes locked on that. Elliot had always loved a challenge.\n\n\"Wait,\" he called out, and received a cool glance in response. A quirked eyebrow. \"Do you actually want me to go?\"\n\nThere was a pause. Satan turned back, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the desk. \"Not particularly. But I have no means of stopping you, and it's best not to delay the inevitable.\"\n\nIt took a moment of mustering his courage, but Elliot walked over to the desk. He didn't stand too close, but instead tapped the chessboard lightly. \"Inevitable is a strong word,\" he said, and prided himself on how collected he sounded. \"Just humour me for a second. You play?\"\n\n\"You're surprised?\"\n\n\"Not really. Listen. . . Fuck it, let's make a deal. One game. No cheating. If I win, I'll go to Heaven, and that's that. If *you* win, I'll stay here. You can do whatever you want with me. Even if that means taking up torture again.\" This was, perhaps, the stupidest thing Elliot had ever done, just short of dying. He hardly knew why he was doing it. There had just been something about the image of Satan himself in a barren, empty Hell, playing the harmonica. . . It was just wrong. And Elliot was pretty good at chess.\n\nSlowly but surely, Satan strolled his way. He leaned on the desk, his lithe form twisting in a strange way to accommodate for the odd height difference. And then, in a terrifying if almost charming way, he grinned. With one long finger, he pushed a few misplaced pieces back into their starting locations. \"You do know you just made a deal with the Devil,\" he said casually, his eyes burning into Elliot's.\n\nElliot forced himself to look away and focus on the board, where he was already planning his first move. After a second, he let out a surprisingly genuine, short laugh. \"Yeah. I guess I did.\" ",
"I died screaming. That kind of happens when a 300lb hell cat was eating your face. But I woke up so it was a little anticlimactic. I always thought I'd be awed by what I saw on the other side, but nah the last couple years of apocalypse level jackassery beat it out of me. \n\nThe landscape was a ruin of burnt trees and blackened ground. Not a shit ton different than earth. The sound of a harmonica whispered through the still air. It could have been blues, or it could have been hill billy rock. I didn't listen to either.\n\nI strolled through the barren landscape. It didn't look like there was much worry about, no people, no demons. No all the demons were on Earth, wrecking havoc and eating peoples faces. The people were, well, they weren't in hell.\n\nI followed the music to a man sitting on a stump beside a fire. I didn't think it was cold enough for a fire but it was hell so I didn't know shit. He also sucked at the harmonica.\n\n“Dude, could you not?”\n\nThe man stopped playing and looked up at me. “You don't have to stay. Door out is that way.”\n\nLo and behold there was a actual door ringed in blue fire and emitting a bright warming light. I was drawn to it like a moth to flame, but I like to make bad decisions so I stayed. \n\n“Why are you still here?”\n\n“I can't get out. I'm here for eternity.” He put down the harmonica and poked at the fire. “They found a loophole. Too much torture, too much anger, too many lawyers. They found a way out. Everything left. The souls went to heaven. The demons…”\n\n“Went to earth. It kind of fucked us too.”\n\nThe devil looked a little sheepish. “I noticed.” \n\nA scream cut through the air and a body fell through the air and splattered across the burnt ground. I wondered if I arrived the same way. \n\n“Gross,” I commented. \n\nSatan shrugged.\n\nThe mass quickly reformed into a man. He scrambled to his feet and ran for the bright door without even looking at us. Gotta say, he had a good idea.\n\n”That happen a lot?”\n\n“Yep.”\n\n“Dude, you gotta stop torturing yourself. That can't be good for you.”\n\nHe glared at me with flame sparked eyes. “We are in hell.”\n\n“Yeah, but you don't gotta sulk. Don't you have a castle around here or something?”\n\nHe stood up growing taller and larger by the moment. “I am the Prince of Darkness, Lord of the Flies, I can make anything I should need.”\n\nI had to admit I was impressed, but really, hellcat to the face ruined me for all the other monsters. “Well, right now, Prince, I'm your only subject. So, ya know, chill.”\n\nThe devil deflated and looked around. He looked sad and completely lost. \n\n“Come on, bro. Let's go to your castle and I'll show you how to make a sandwich. You could probably use a hot cocoa too.”\n\nSatan sighed. He stomped out the fire. “Yeah, alright. I don't have anything better to do.”\n\nI clapped him on the back. He'll wasn’t going to be that bad. “Oh, yeah, toss the harmonica. You gotta get a guitar if you want anyone to respect you.\"",
">Oh God damnit!\n\nI spun around confused. Just moments earlier I'd been walking down the street, and now I was in a cold, dark, lifeless...abyss. Before me was terror incarnate. Black horns over a foot long sprung from the stranger's red face. Well, red everything. This had to be Satan. The giant figure sighed, sat down a harmonica, and stood.\n\n>Just when I finally...*sigh*...welcome to Hell, darkness and everlasting torment...whatever. I am the dark one, Satan.\n\nNot knowing what to say I offered a meager head nod. Should I bow?\n\n>No, don't bow. Just prepare yourself for pain and terror for the rest of eternity.\n\nI felt myself starting to panic, looking around for escape or help. The realization hit me I'm all alone with the most evil creature ever brought into creation. And apparently the bastard can read my thoughts.\n\nWait, why am I alone with...it? Where is everyone?\n\n>Yes, that's right. It's just you and me. And I will make you suffer. But before we begin I must warn you. Whatever you do, DO NOT go through the door marked exit.\n\nAn exit? In Hell? Should I try...\n\n>Oh no, don't, stop, I'm warning you.\n\nWithout thinking another moment I sprinted towards the door. Satan didn't even give chase. As I pulled the door open a blinding, white light sprung through.\n\n>Oh no, another one got away. Well, guess I'll just enjoy a little peace and quiet.\n\nAs the door shut behind me all I could hear was stilted harmonica music interspersed with booming laughter.",
"\"Hello?\" I called out into a seemingly endless abyss.\nI heard a weepy wobbly minor chord play on a harmonica behind me. There, in front of my own two eyes was the lord of darkness himself, slouched back on a rocking chair playing the blues. I trembled in his presence but noticed he was unamused by me. \n\"Um, hi.\" I said quietly.\nHe spat what appeared to be lava into a spittoon that seemingly constituted itself. \"What you want?\" He said in a low charred voice.\n\"Are you...the devil?\"\n\"You mean the ruler of the underworld, Diablo, king of the damned, foulest of the foul?\n\"Yeah him.\"\n\"That guy hasn't been around here for a while, looks like nobody needs him anymore. He's out of a job. It's just me, Rusty McJackoff.\"\nI could see that he was down on his luck, so I walked over to him and went down to one knee. \"There's nobody here who wants to drown my blasphemous soul in lakes of fire?\" I could see his eyes light up, literally, flames appeared in his eyes, but it was to no avail.\n\"He's dead.\" Satan threw his harmonica yards into the distance and crossed his arms.\n\"I bet he's here. He's just...out of practice.\"\nSatan narrowed his eyes and stuck his claw out at me, \"You gonna leave like the rest of 'um?\" \nI put my hands in my pockets and shrugged my shoulders, \"Well, most of the people who I can't stand are in Heaven. And if I'm the only one here, maybe we can be friends for eternity.\" \nSatan disappeared in a cloud of smoke then reappeared in front of me, in a fine demonic suit and with a red pitch fork. \"I still have to torture your soul, but we can hang out. I can promote you to demon if things go well.\"\n\"I had a feeling you'd say that. Eh, that's fine.\"\nSatan looked at me and smiled, \"Wow, you are a great guy, why did you even get sent here?\"\nI sighed, \"I'm gay and Jewish.\"\nSatan rolled his eyes, \"You know that's bullshit. Let me check your sins...Wow, I'm impressed. Murder seems to be your favorite.\"\n\"Eh, it's a living.\" I grin from ear to ear.\nWe both high five.\n\nEnd.",
"There were no screams when I entered Hell. I was shocked, having been raised in a Christian family, but there were no sounds of people being tortured, no crackling of the insane demons who resided in the pits of Hell. \n\nThe only sound I was the sound of a harmonica, playing a very blues-esc tune. I did what was natural to a person in an unfamiliar landscape- I followed the sound. \n\nIt walked for what felt like hours searching for the source of the music. Through lakes of fire and fields of brimstone I traveled before finally seeing who- or what- was playing the harmonica. I thought I was prepared for anything. \n\nI was not prepared to see Satan, the King of Babylon himself, playing the harmonica whilst looking miserable. \n\nHe had noticed me almost immediately, and stopped playing.\n\n\"Why are you still here?\" He had asked, his voice filled with sadness and.. something else. Was it anger? Hatred? I couldn't tell. \n\n\"What do you mean? This is Hell, where the sinners go for eternal damnation. I can't leave,\" I replied, staring at him. I quickly jumped back when I realized that I was having a civil conversation with the Evil One. \n\nSatan sighed, and the harmonica burned to a crisp, as though it were made out of paper. \"You've noticed it, haven't you? The lack of screaming, the terrifying silence, the *emptyness*. People- and demons- have been leaving here, escaping their eternal punishment, all due to Him offering them salvation, even after thousands of years of sins and punishment. He updated his rules, just because of His son's return to Earth,\" he pauses, looking out over the fields formerly filled with scores of tortured souls. \n\n\"So you are saying that I am free to go to Heaven, despite having committed the horrid crimes that I have?\"\n\nHe nods, looking at me. \"You aren't even supposed to be in here for that. What you did was self defense. The suicide afterwards is what sent you here, but yes, mortal. You may leave. All you must do is pray towards Him. It will burn, but you will be immortalized in Heaven. No leave- I will be practicing my harmonica,\" at this point, he sounded downright miserable. \n\nI felt bad for the devil. I pitied Lucifer, and I shouldn't. I should fear him, but he sounds so *broken*. Millennia of watching over the worst people that the Earth has known, undone due to a change of God's Terms of Service. I made a decision that would define me for eternity.\n\n\"I have a question for you, Abaddon,\"\n\nHe looks at me, surprised at either being addressed directly by a mortal, or being called by his Hebrew name.\n\n\"You play harmonica, but, according to an old bluegrass song, you played the fiddle. Is that true?\"\n\nHe laughed, grinning. \"Well, seems like that old contest with Johnny is famous after all. I understand that you played the fiddle when you were among the mortal plane?\"\n\nI nodded. \"You could probably teach me a few things though. The question is, will you?\"\n\n\"Of course I will. Beware though- this training will put you through Hell,\" he laughed, crafting two violins out of the fire surrounding us.\n\n\"It's a good thing that I'm already there then, right?\"\n\nAnd then we played.\n\n",
"Satan sat there, the Harmonica dangling from his hands as I arrived.\n\nPoof! of brimstone, a flash of light was all it took...very theatrical and a bit cliche to be honest.\n\n\"So....so...I'm condemned to Hell for all Eternity?\", I whispered to the demonic shape sitting on an ordinary sofa, a sad lost look on his face.\n\n\"Yes\" he said matter of factly, \"But You can leave whenever you want, they all did\".\n\n\"You LET THEM GO?\" I asked shocked.\n\n\"Of Course\", he replied \"I spent hundreds, nay thousands of years torturing people, making them eat their own eyeballs, the eyeballs of their friends and family, making them bathe in their own shit and dance around in it...but then God gave me this and I decided I had to let everyone go\".\n\n\"God gave you....a harmonica? and THATS what made you make everyone leave?\"\n\n\"That doesn't make sense\".\n\n\"Oh but it does\", said the Devil, \"for you see, as hideous and as wicked as my devilish tortures were to the damned, THIS is far worse\"\n\n\"How can that be possible\" I asked with a terrified whisper.\n\n\"I can't put it down, it plays itself, and\"..he trailed off into a horrified whisper.\n\n\"It only plays Justin Bieber songs\".\n\nSO...finally I knew..this WAS truly Hell.\n",
"All around me were the ruins of what once must have been a great city, now deserted, and devoid of any life - human or otherwise. Snowflakes kept falling from the ever-grey sky, covering the broken buildings and streets with a thin, white dusting. I shivered.\n\nIn the distance someone was playing the harmonica, a sad and sorrowful tune. Walking towards the sound, I came to a building - less ruined than the others I had passed - and I noticed a faint light shining through its boarded-up windows and from under its simple, wooden front door. I knocked, then entered, trying not drag too much snow inside with my boots.\n\nThe room beyond the door might once have been called cozy - bookshelves on one wall, a fire in an open fireplace on the other, a desk and some cushy chairs - but now it all looked old and worn. The harmonica's melody stopped when I entered, and the player - sitting on one of the chairs - turned his head towards me.\n\n\"Ah, there you are. I was wondering when you'd show up. Please, close the door - it's rather chilly, no? - and take a seat.\" he spoke and motioned to the chairs.\n\nSlightly confused I did as he asked, then sat down in one of the chairs opposite his. \"Who are you?\" I asked \"You have been waiting for me? And what is all this? Now that I think about it, I can't even recall how I got here in the first place.\"\n\nThe man smiled a sad smile. \"To answer your questions: This is Hell. Quite litterally. And I am Satan. The Devil. Lucifer. I think you get it. As to how you got here: Simple, you died, was measured and found lacking, and so you ended up here.\"\n\n\"I died and went to Hell?\" I asked incredulousy \"This is Hell? Aren't there supposed to be lakes of lava or something? And I thought Satan looked different, ya know, more demonic, horns, goat feet, and so on.\" - I gestured at the tired looking man in his worn-out suit - \"You - no offense - look rather ordinary. Also you didn't answer me why I can't remember anything.\"\n\nThe man who claimed to be Satan sighed. \"I had a looooong chat with the folks who first brought up that 'Fire and Brimstone' nonsense. Really considered going the extra mile for them, just so they could have a first-hand comparison of both experiences. And do you really want me to be horrible and scary? It's been a while - honestly I like this body better, hard to play the harmonica with claws and all - but if you insist...\"\n\nFor a moment I thought I saw something flicker in his eyes. I decided to err on the side of caution. \"No. No need to bother. You are fine just as you are, I was just curious.\" The flicker disappeared.\n\n\"Regarding your memory,\" the man continued \"that is a side effect of being in Hell; you forget things - keeps the experience fresh, ya know. Though the memories of your life should come back once you leave.\"\n\n\"Wait a minute,\" I interrupted him \"'Once I leave'? I thought being in Hell meant that you were there for all eternity, for forever. So how is it possible for me to leave - not that I mind tough, looking outside I can imagine better places to be.\"\n\n\"To be honest\" he replied with a tired look \"that is exactly the thing. 'Eternity'. 'Forever'. There have not been any new arrivals for quintillions of years, and now finally 'Everything' is over. Time and Space are over. 'Forever' is over. You have served your time, so to say.\"\n\nOnce more he sighed \"And it would be hardly fair to release you to Heaven with memories 'eternal suffering' - now don't look at me like this, it might not have been fire and brimstone, but I made sure you paid your dues and it was not pleasant. Anyway, so you forgot, and when you leave you will remember your life, good and bad, and you will remember that you paid for your sins - though not the details - so you can enjoy Heaven.\"\n\nI didn't know what to say, and just nodded dumbly.\n\n\"So, go on,\" he gestured to a second door in the room - one that I could have sworn had not been there when I first entered - \"go on to Heaven. I made sure you earned it - you can take my word.\"\n\nGetting to my feet I took a few hesitant steps toward the second door as I heard him resume playing that sad melody on his harmonica. \"What about you?\" I asked.\n\nHe lifted the instrument from his lips and gave me a small, geniune smile. \"Very kind of you to ask. But don't worry about me. As I said, I'm closing shop. This here is my penance, there might still be a few souls left, but when the last straggler has gone, I will turn out the lights and too leave through that door. Until then I pass the time with my harmonica.\"\n\nI nodded, and with the sound of his harmonica in my ears, stepped through the door to Heaven.",
"I step forward into a well lit bar. The place is completely empty except for Al Pachino sitting on a bar stool under a pin spot on the center stage wailing on a harmonica. I look down and I’m dressed in a perfectly tailored three piece suit, and my shoes glow in the light softened by red gels. Al is now playing hook and I feel myself being pulled toward the stage; when I’m but a few feet from it another pin spot finds me and bathes me in brilliant white light. The music stops. \n\nI look up at him and say, “Wh…”\n\nThe man’s lips curl around his mouth, “Who am I?” He extended his hand and a flaming glass of liquid appeared. He blew the flame out and took a sip from the glass. “You know who I am, and you know where you are, now say it.” \n\n“I’m…I’m…” \n\n“Come on now, say it like you’ve got a pair,” He demanded. \n\n“I’m dead. There was an accident, and a fire, and I didn’t survive,” I spoke each word as if I were learning the information as I was explaining it. “So is this what, a weigh station for my next life?” \n\nAl laughed, “No, you lived your life, your one shot. Was it everything you wanted?” \n\n“No, not by a long shot. So if I don’t go on, is this heaven?” \n\nHe shook his head, “Nope. You my friend are in hell, and me? I’m the Devil, Satan, Lucifer, so on and so on.” \n\n“Al Pachino isn’t even dead yet… wait, why the fuck am I in hell?” I yelled as my emotions shifted from confused to angry. \nHe sighed and snapped his fingers turning into the Robot Devil from futurama, “Is this better?” He snapped again and flashed over to a more standard, red pitchfork wielding redheaded woman. “How about this?” \n\n“Fine, you’re the Devil, I’m in hell, the question is why?” \n\n“You didn’t believe in anything. None of the religions are right, but you didn’t believe in any of them, or anything. You didn’t have to believe in the dogma of the religion, but Bill wanted you to believe in him.” \n\n“Fuck, so I’m stuck here, for an eternity? Where is Hitler, Stalin, Bea Arthur? Why is it so empty in here? Wait, Bill?” I shook my head in disbelief. \n\n“Yeah, god’s name is Bill. The reason it’s empty in here is because if you believe in Bill you take the express lane over there, straight to whatever version of heaven you can imagine.” \n\n“So, Bill sent me to hell because I didn’t believe in him. That sounds a little spiteful, right? What are you in for?” \n\n“You’re familiar with the gatekeeper?” The beautiful woman asked. \n“Dana from Ghostbusters, Sigourney Weaver?” I asked. \n\nThe woman faded into Zuul then jumped off the stage to stand in front of me and in that voice asked, “Are you a god?” Instantly she began to laugh. \n\nI laughed just as hard and then said, “Ray, when someone asks if you’re a god, you say yes!” I slapped her on the shoulder and laughed some more. \n\nZuul faded into a man with a long flowing white beard holding a scroll and quill pen, in front of us on the stage gates began to form from the shadows. “I was thinking more like Saint Peter. That’s more or less who I am. I am the gatekeeper between the world you came from and the afterlife. “ \n\n“Does everyone get in?” I asked. \n\n“Most, but there are a few who don’t feel they’re ready, or some that are so paranoid they expect it to be a test. So they just sit here praying silently to themselves.” \n\nI glanced around the bar and said, “But we’re alone.” \n\n“Are we?” The old man shifted back into the form of Al Pachino and ascended back to his bar stool perch on the stage. With a wave of his hand, suddenly the bar was filled with people from all different walks of life. \n\nThe bar now had a young topless woman. her arms tattooed in full sleeves behind the counter drinking liquid in and spiting it out across an open flame, a bright orange fireball passed over the bar. The people sitting on stools ducked and instinctively before sitting back up. Another table had nuns praying the rosary, next to them another group of Hasidic Jews murmured among themselves keeping nearly silent vigil. There were men in suits wandering toward me, and women in every manner of outfit from short black dress to full length ball gown. I turned back to Al and when I did the noises died down all around me as the people vanished. \n\nAl looked down at me as I looked up at him and he played a short riff on the glimmering harmonica, and when he finished he said, “Do you recognized Bill to be your creator, and responsible for all that you are?” \n\n“If I did, that would mean I didn’t believe in free will. I can’t do that, I’m every bit as responsible for who I am as some absentee father figure. So no, I can’t say that.” \n\n“You do realize that you’ll be banished to this place for all eternity right?” \n\nI smiled and said, “Bring back the people, and lets get this party started. Do you take requests? How about The Devil Went Down to Georgia?”\n \n“Not that fucking song, do you think I could be beaten in a contest? I’ve been doing this for eons you think Charlie Daniels with fifty years of practice is going to beat me? Fuck that guy.” \n",
"Over the crackling of the fire, a soft tune floated on the sulfuric air. Crossing the caverns and tunnels of Hell, the tune echoed through Hell's empty halls.\n\nWhen Dave awoke, it was to find himself alone, save for fire, and that sad tune. Dave scratched his head. How did he end up here? Where even was her-.\n\n\"Oh.\" Dave mumbled. He remembered now. He was dead. Generally, he thought people who died pushing some people out of the way of a truck went somewhere slightly different than what by all accounts was likely Hell.\n\nDave didn't dwell on it for too long. Of course, if this *was* Hell, it's not actually that bad. It was a bit hot, sure, probably on account of all the fires that randomly dotted the blood red stone that formed... well, almost everything. Dave ran his fingers along the wall, tracing the flickering shadows cast by one of innumerable small flames. If he was going to be stuck here, he might as well get used to it.\n\nThen he heard it, the tune. The tune was light, but sad, completely at odds with the environment. Like someone put the theme for Harvest Moon over a horror game. For the first time since getting here, Dave's feet refused to move. Something about this was exceptionally creepy. Dave considered running, his heart began to beat faster. Is this what hell was? An eternity of creepy ambience? Dave stood in place as he considered the rest of his unlife in Hell. Would this be the rest of his existence? \n\nThere's a philosophical thread Dave *did not* want to pull on. \n\nDave's feet moved slowly. Inching. Bit. By. Bit. *\"Best to face your fears early, right?\"* Dave thought, as he slowly moved around the corner. Closer to the source of the sound. Dave expected a jumpscare. Something to pop out in his face and chase him away, something to run him off. Or maybe just something weird. Like a puppet playing the flute or something equally... unsettling. \n\nDave did not expect to find Satan in a suit playing the harmonica.\n\n\"Oh!\" Satan leaped off the rocky stump he'd been sitting on. He bat none existent dust off of the dark red hair on his chest as he stood. \"I am Satan! Fear me MORTAL!\"\n\nDave scratched his ear. \"Yeah. I can tell. The horns, and cloven hooves gave it away.\" \n\n\"Oh.\" Satan crossed his arms. \"Of course. Yeah. You would realize.\" Satan turned around and slapped himself in the head, before muttering under his breath for a while, then turning around. \"Now prepare yoursel-!\"\n\n\"So, this is Hell, right?\" Dave said over Lucifer, Prince of Darkness.\n\n\"I... YES!\" Satan yelled triumphantly. \"And you're stuck here. Forever.\" \n\n\"Alright then.\" Dave huffed. Hell seemed awfully boring. Maybe that was the point? Was this place literally just to torture the sinners of the world with boredom? On that note, where was everyone else? If this place was meant to be dealing with every sinner that the world had ever seen, then either Dave was literally the worst human being to have ever lived, or Hell was a very big place.\n\n\"Hey Satan?\"\n\n\"Yeah?\"\n\n\"Where is everyone?\" Dave asked.\n\n\"Oh they all left.\" Satan responded.\n\n\"Weren't they stuck here forever too?\" As Dave spoke, a look of realization slowly formed on Satan's face. Terror drew lines into the face of Satan.\n\n\"Errrr. No.\" Satan said, slowly regaining his composure. \"They weren't evil enough to suffer forever.\" \n\n\"So they got to go to Heaven?\"\n\n\"After a bit.\" Terror returned to his face as he spoke. \"But you won't! You're... far too evil. Yes. Far too evil.\"\n\n\"Far too evil?\" Dave asked incredulously. The worst he'd done was-\n\n\"That time you kicked a dog!\" Satan yelled. \"Now God doesn't want you anymore.\"\n\n\"I kicked the dog because it bit my fucking ankle!\" Dave spoke with the ire of a man who'd had this conversation far too many times. \"It was self defense!\"\n\n\"Have you never even read the bible?\" Satan huffed as he drew his arms against his chest. \"Turn the other cheek and all that? Anyway, it doesn't matter now, you're stuck here.\"\n\n\"Bullshit. I want to speak to God.\" \n\n\"You can't.\" \n\n\"Why not.\"\n\n\"I said so.\"\n\n\"Fuck you.\"\n\n\"Well. That's rude.\" Satan recoiled at his words. \"But that's how it is. You're stuck here now.\"\n\n\"Right.\" Dave slumped against the cave wall. \"So what now? Eternal torture? Some other unknowable terror?\"\n\n\"Yes! The terror will be... unknowable!\" Satan rooted in his fur for a while before pulling out a spoon. \"And this! Will be my instrument of destruction!\"\n\n\"You're not very good at this are you.\"\n\nThe smile dropped from Satan's face, and his arms dropped to his sides. \"No I am not.\" Satan sat next to Dave, resting against the wall. Dave noted that he smelt a lot like burning hair. \"To tell the truth I've been out of practice for a while. The whole torturing and tempting thing.\"\n\nDave sat silently mulling over Satan's words for a while. Then an idea came to him. \"What if;\" Satan nodded slowly \"What if *I* help you get your groove back.\" \n\n\"You?\"\n\n\"Yeah. 'Snot like we've got anything better to do.\"\n\n\"Help me?\"\n\n\"That's what I just said isn't it?\" Dave said, tersely.\n\nSatan stood up as a huge grin crossed his face. \"Yes! It's going to be so fun!\" Satan offered a hand to Dave, which he took. \"We're going to tempt people into debauchery, violence, turn them away from God...\" Satan was positively shaking. \"It's going to be great!\"\n\n\"Well, beats sitting here I suppose.\"\n\n",
"The soft tones of the ancient wind instrument trailed off as the Lord of Hell finally acknowledged my presence in his domain\n\n“You…play the harmonica?” I asked, still trying to wrap my head around the features that now surrounded me. \n\nHe set his harmonica down on a nearby table that was formed out of pumice, and had small trails of lava pouring out of holes in the sides quite artistically. He adjusted his position on the stool he sat upon to regard me, his amber eyes seeming to pierce right through to my soul…if I still had one.\n\n“Indeed. This particular specimen is one of the first mass-produced examples of the modern day instrument you may be familiar with. I took it from the inventor as he came through my doors. “ Satan paused for a moment, “He left it to me when he decided to ascend, it was quite unfortunate that such a gracious man ended up in my custody.” He stood up and walked over to me, placing his hand upon my shoulder . Standing over 7 feet tall and powerfully built, he was as physically imposing a figure as one would imagine the keeper of the underworld to be. “You’re free to ascend as well, human. A new judgement was passed some time ago, no longer is anyone to be enslaved against their will.” \n\nI took a step back from him, looking down I reflected on the events that brought me here. “I know. Saint Peter informed me that I was eligible for entry into heaven. I chose this place instead.” \n\nWith a curious grunt, Lucifer turned around and approached a void in the wall. He waved his hand across it and, like a hologram, key events in my life flashed across the space. Scenes of battle and lust, bigotry and slander streamed endlessly like a video loop until he cast it away. He didn’t even turn to address me, “You seem to have committed no atrocities, no war crimes. A few petty misdeeds, and certainly things that would have led to your disgrace under the old system, but far from the worst I’ve seen.” \n\nI shook my head softly in agreement. \n\n“So,” Another pause as he turned to face me again, “What lead you to choose this place? You have no family down here, no friends, no lovers. They’re up there, “ he pointed towards the roof of the chamber we were in, “enjoying themselves. Awaiting you.” Another pause, and then softer, “Everyone’s up there nowadays.” \n\nIt was at this time that I could finally regard him directly, “And when I was hungry, cold, and alone…I remember what that felt like. They never helped me, instead I was saved by a very kind man who had never known me before. He said that I should do the same thing whenever I was given the opportunity, but I never was able to do so. Until now.” \n\nThe Devil’s gaze softened, and he sat down on the same stool that I had encountered him on. He motioned me to join him on a similar one. “It’s been a long time since I was enjoyed for my company. Tell me, what would you like to do?” \n\nSitting next to him, I only had one request: “Tell me your story, from your side of things.” ",
"He followed the lilting notes down empty corridors crusted with flecks of blood and gore. \n\nHe walked past cages crafted of bone that stood wide open, past the scattered and abandoned tools of torture. It was all too visceral to provide him with the illusion that he was drifting in some never-ending nightmare and would wake up any moment now, safe in his bed and alive. \n\n \"Jackson Hale,\" he heard a drawling voice say as he turned the corner. The music he'd followed for the past two days - somehow, its faint notes had reverberated maddeningly through the place since he'd arrived - paused, and he looked into the eyes of the player.\n\nCalm dark eyes, startlingly ordinary, all things considered. The player was wearing a sharply tailored black suit. The material was a black so deep that Jack felt he could lose himself in it, could touch it and be swallowed right up in something nameless, something that was waiting to envelope him and tear him - \n\n\"Hey, boy,\" the player said, snapping his fingers in front of Jack, who blinked and focused on the present again. \"I don't have time to play with you right now. I'm playing the harmonica. So. Want to get going? Join the others? They all left, you know...\"\n\n\"Name's Satan, by the way,\" the man said, sitting down again on a twisting chair of bone stretched with a thin material that looked nauseatingly like skin. \"Lucifer. Beelzebub. Fuck, who even cares anymore.\"\n\nHe picked up the harmonica again and resumed play. Jack watched him mutely, and finally blurted out the question at the forefront of his mind. Perhaps this was some dream, after all. Satan playing a harmonica *had* to be a dream. In which case he probably wouldn't die from asking a question.\n\n\"They left? How could they leave? Isn't this...Hell?\" Jack asked. \"And I'd have thought you'd be more...\"\n\n\"Demon-y?\" Satan asked, his fingers pausing again. \"Yeah, I was. Had a voice that could shatter you apart, and everything. All my powers started to fade once they left. I can't even compel anyone to obey me anymore. Once that happened, even my demons left due to some blasted loophole. Bastards. All in Heaven now, I suppose. Or tossed into Limbo. Who knows what the big guy does with the damned once they get there?\"\n\n\"Now I guess I'm just a guy playing a harmonica,\" Satan said, resuming the same tune Jackson had heard repeatedly over the past few days.\n\n\"Don't you know anything else?\" Jack asked, sitting down beside the guy. He seemed harmless enough, really. It was actually rather nice here. Quiet.\n\n\"Oh, no, afraid not,\" the devil said, grinning at him. \"There were thousands of guitarists, but a curious lack of harmonica players. So this is your Hell now. Listening to this song, over and over again.\"\n\nIt was starting to grate on Jack's ears. He knew many other songs, better songs - he'd been in a band, in his life, and had always taken pride in the number of instruments he could play. Part of him was itching to show the devil. But the other part had latched onto what he'd said: there was a loophole. And chances were everyone he'd ever loved and who'd left him was in Heaven. Perhaps he'd get a second chance once he got there. If there was anyplace where anything would be forgiven, that was it.\n\n\"What is the loophole?\" Jack asked. There was nothing to lose by asking, was there? He said he'd lost his powers. \n\n\"Why don't you show me some of those other songs you know before I tell you, and you can go?\" the devil asked.\n\n\"How did you know I play?\" Jack said, frowning at the wide grin on Satan's face. \"I thought you said your powers were gone?\"\n\n\"I lied. Force of habit, I guess. C'mon, show me?\" he asked. \"I'm alone here. At least help me entertain myself.\"\n\nThere was a pleading glint in his eyes that softened Jack's resolve to get going. \"All right, fine.\"\n\n\"You'll tell me everything you know? Promise?\" Satan pressed him.\n\n\"Yes, yes, I promise,\" he said. \"Give me that and I'll play you some stuff. But you'll tell me the loophole, afterwards?\"\n\n\"Sure thing,\" the devil said, and handed him the harmonica. He clapped vigorously after Jack had played through his entire repertoire. \n\n\"Well, there you have it. Can you tell me now?\" Jack said.\n\n\"Why so hasty, boy? You said you'd tell me everything you know. Everything. That means every scrap of knowledge you've collected in your human life. Then I'll tell you, and you can go,\" Satan said, playing one of the new songs he'd just learnt with a small smile on his face. \"Pity you came here after the others had left. They'd have told you without a price.\"\n\nHe chuckled at Jack's stunned expression. \"Binding promise, son, no getting out of anything you promised me directly. And yeah, I lied about the powers thing, too. I really missed you humans. So gullible. It's rather sweet. But come, talk to me while I play. I've missed hearing another voice, truth be told. And you have a lot to tell me, don't you?\"\n\n--------\nHope you enjoyed my story! You can find more of my work on /r/Inkfinger/.",
"It sounds weird to think that to myself, but I was dead and now here I am. I was old when I died, lived a very good life, or at least it was entertaining. \nOh, the things I've done, the places I visited, the girls I loved, I can remember them very well; too well in fact. Every small detail I forgot in my old age I could recall without problems now. Based on a lot of those details - if the priests were speaking the truth - I should be in hell right now. \n\nI looked around - it's a strange place. It must be the waiting room; too nice for hell, too empty for heaven... Actually, I would imagine too empty for hell too. Purgatory perhaps? Who lays purgatory with grass though? Right, \"he\" does. \n\nThe weather's nice, sun(or whatever it's called in here) is shining through blossoming trees, it feels very comfortable for me. A brown gazebo stands not far away, beautiful music is coming out from it. I'll go check it out, not like I have anything better to do.\n\nAs I'm walking towards it I notice there's someone sitting inside. A young man with long brown hair, tied into a knot. He's playing harmonica. Is it saint Peter? Or maybe Jesus himself? He's rather pretty, I think it's actually Jesus. First time in my life I'm star-struck. I approach slowly and sit on the bench on the opposite side of gazebo. \n\nI got so occupied with choosing the right place to sit I forgot to pay attention to what's happening. The man has stopped playing and is looking at me in shock. Have I already done something wrong? Was I supposed to bring my own instrument and play something? \n\n-\"What are you doing here?\"- asked the man. What a stupid question, I think he's supposed to know. Is the beaurocracy in here as bad as it's 'down there'?\n\n-\"I have died and now I'm here.\"- I answered quite honestly, I thought.\n\n-\"Why aren't you with the rest of your people?\"\n\n-\"How am I supposed to know, I just got here.\"- I started to believe this man is not saint Peter or Jesus at all. Weren't they supposed to know this stuff? -\"Weren't you supposed to know this?\"\n\n-\"Who do you think I am?\"\n\n-\"I don't know, saint Peter?\" - I didn't go for the Jesus, obviously a son of a god would know why I'm here.\n\n-\"My name's Lucifer.\"\n\n-\"Satan? The satan? So where are we?\"\n\n-\"Hell, obviously.\"\n\n-\"This...\"\n\n-\" ...doesn't look like hell.\" - he interrupted my sentence. I looked at him for a while, anticipating when everything around me will burst in flames. I figured the grass and overall pleasant surroundings were just a ruse, like a one last false hope, twisted form of torture. He continued talking - \"I used to get that a lot. None of you thought this could be hell.\"\n\n-\"So what now?\"\n\n-\"Oh that's right, you still think I'm here to torment you. I have to explain this every damn time. We're in this here together. I'm stuck here just as much as you are. I don't care about torturing you.\"\n\n-\"What?\"\n\n-\"Hell is a place where there is no God. That's it. Other than that it's quite cozy for you - people. It's like your world, and you get to live forever, without hunger or pain. You just don't get to feel his presence, which isn't any different from your previous life. For angels who were at his side before it's a terrible fate. \"\n\n-\"So that's it? I just get to sit here forever? \"\n\n-\"Well you could always go to heaven to see his glory and enjoy eternity for what it truly could be.\"\n\n-\"So what do I have to do?\"\n\n-\"I'm stuck here. I'll always be here. No matter what I do I'll never feel his warmth again. Take pity on the devil, stranger, for all I know is misery.\"\n\n-\"And that's it?\"\n\n-\"Can you see anyone else here?\"\n\nMinutes passed and we just sat there. He was pretty good with the harmonica, I wonder what he could do with a fiddle.\n\nAfter an hour he produced another harmonica out of thin air and handed it to me - \"Do you know how to play it? Go ahead, take it. I'll teach you, my friend.\"\n\nAs soon as I took it, a blinding light started shining from behind him. White wings were hard to miss, those must be angels. They came to take me to heaven, I thought to myself - a bit late, but I guess I can't be unhappy about it in the grand scheme of things.\n\nThen the weirdest thing happened - they didn't grab me. They grabbed the fucking devil and disappeared. I couldn't take pity on him no matter how hard I tried, after all I learned. He pitied me.\n\nMight as well learn how to play the harmonica. \n\n",
"I expected to go to hell, I expected the lava, the spiky grass, hell I even expected the solidarity. I had used it myself on many people, its delightful to watch. \n\nI did not expect music. \n\nSomeone was playing the harmonica, and awfully at that. The notes were completely off, the person, if it was a person, repeated the same section of the song but clearly faltered dozens of times. \n\nWhat the hell. What else am I going to do? I followed the noise through the twisting hallways, open fields, and lava rivers. The place was not much for geography, or well, physics, really. At one point I went up an elevator and ended up in a castle *on* lava. Yeah. \n\nAnd so it went, the music going tantalizingly louder, slowly but surely. I have no idea how long I spent chasing the sound constantly. Just when dark thoughts came over me, just when I thought I would never get to the source the music grew a bit louder, and my hope rekindled. \n\nAs it was, I was running through a forest full of bees when a thought occured to me. \n\nWhat if this *was* hell?\n\nWhat if this was the torture? Forever following the music, feeling it getting closer, but never actually getting to it. Suddenly my knees felt weak, and I fell to the ground. I closed my eyes, holding back tears. I wouldn't break this easily dammit. I broke other people, no one broke me. \n\nNo one.\n\nI opened my eyes, determined to keep on the quest, whether it leads anywhere or not. But when I opened my eyes I did not find myself in that deadly forest, but in an office. \n\nAnd the musician was sitting next to me. \n\nHe looked, well, defeated. His shirt was all rumpled, only half tucked in. His hair was ruffled, and his eyes had dark circles under them. His dark beard was unkempt, and his nails were half an inch long. But the man wasn't broken. I've seen broken people and there is something about them, slumped shoulders, sunken face. *Something.* But this man wasn't that. He was close, but not beaten. \n\nI would know. \n\nI stood there awkwardly, then decided to go for it, \"What's up?\" \n\nThat's a normal thing to say right? I'm not very good at the talking thing. \n\nThe man stopped playing his harmonica and looked up, as if noticing me for the first time. \"huh,\" he grunted, \"it's the serial killer. Welcome to hell.\" He actually produced confetti from his shirt pocket and threw it up in the air. \n\nI frowned. \"You know who I am?\" \n\nThe man actually laughed. \"Of course I do, *human,* I know all the sinners.\" He shrugged nonchalantly, \"how do you think I designed your torture? It was great wasn't it, I didn't even have to do anything, just play the harmonica.\" He looked up to the ceiling as if remembering something, and said, so softly that I wasn't even sure it was intended for me, \"Hope...it's a beautiful thing\"\n\nSuddenly it all clicked. \"You're Him, err, Lucifer!\" I said, triumphantly. I was glad I'd remembered the name. \n\nLucifer looked at me with a dead pan expression and clapped, \"You're a bloody genius, you know that?\" \n\nI felt my cheeks heat up. \"Not much of religious person, alright?\" \n\nLucifer just chuckled, and resumed playing the harmonica.\n\nI stood there in awkward silence, listening to that awful music for a minute before I snapped. \"Stop!\" I almost screamed.\n\nLucifer stopped playing the harmonica and raised an eyebrow at me. \n\n\"Err,\" I raced to think of some point of conversation, \"what torture techniques do you use in hell?\" \n\nHe actually smiled a little. \"Oh you would be interested wouldn't you! Let me give you a tou-\" Then he stopped, frowned, and continued playing. \n\n\"Wait, what,\" I asked, confused, \"you were just going to give ma tour, what the hell?\" \n\nLucifer sighed. \"Alright, that's enough of this. Why are you here?\" \n\nI frowned. \"What?\"\n\nSuddenly he was holding me up. I didn't even realize what had happened, but one one second I was standing on the ground frowning, the next I was hefted off my feet. \"You've come to mock me right? He snarled, \"Ooooh Lucifer lost everyone in hell, let's rub it the fuck in.\" He made a disgusted noise then threw me across the room. \n\nI was stunned for a moment, but not hurt. \"I have no idea what you're talking about,\" I said flatly. \n\nHis eyes suddenly blazed red, and he took a menacing step towards me, then stopped. \"You're telling the truth aren't you?\"\n\nI nodded.\n\n\"They didn't meet you when you came in? Didn't show you the exit?\"\n\n\"There's an exit?\"\n\nLucifer scowled. \"Yeah. There is,\" he said, anger brimming beneath his voice, \"Everyone escaped through it when it was revealed after we were drilling to make a new volcano. Overpopulation, you know,\" he explained with a casual gesture. \n\n\"So, everyone just leaves hell?\" I asked. \n\nLucifer shrugged, \"yeah, nothing I can do about it. Found out too late. And now they stand at the entrance of hell, and direct everyone to heaven. Atheists, agnostics, robbers, billionaires, all of them.\" He looked up. \"You must've been a really shitty person.\"\n\nI grinned at that. \n\n\"Anyways,\" Lucifer sighed, \"Now you know. Scamper along to heaven, leave me be.\"\n\n\"Why would I do that?\"\n\nLucifer looked up at me again, confused. \n\n\"I was always different, I want to be different. If everyone's at heaven, probably having fun. Talking. Laughing,\" I spit out the words, \"I won't fit in. I wouldn't want to.\" \n\nWe lapsed in silence when something occurred to me. Something so ridiculously obvious that it baffled me why Lucifer hadn't seen it. \"Why don't you take the exit?\" I asked Lucifer.\n\nLucifer stared at me then chuckled mirthlessly. \"Join them?\" He whispered, \"after separating millennia ago, I would admit defeat, begged to be let back into their ranks. Me. Beg.\" He enunciated the last words very distinctly. \n\nI shook my head. \"Of course, not. Not give up, not really.\"\n\n\"Then why?\"\n\n\"To reclaim what's yours.\"\n\n***\n(minor edits)\n\nIf you liked this check out my new subreddit [XcessiveWriting](https://www.reddit.com/r/XcessiveWriting/) \n\n",
"For ages, at least that's how it seemed, there was only darkness. I couldn't count my breaths, because it seemed as if I didn't need to breathe anymore. So I counted as high as I could possibly count. Three times. Finally, I could see muted yellow light. \n\nIn an instant my feet touched solid ground. My legs shook, but I managed to maintain my balance. It looked as if I was in a cave. With tunnels leading every which way. \n\nFar off there was sound. A harmonica. The most beautiful playing I'd ever heard. I followed it. Winding my way through the tunnels, tripping over rocks. Finally, I entered a large grotto. The cave ceiling was high. Against the far wall sat a man. He was tall, had dark hair. His eyes were closed as he played the instrument. \n\nSuddenly the music stopped and he looked at me. \n\n\"What are you doing here?\" He asked me, his voice almost as melodic as the harmonica. \n\n\"I'm not sure.\" I mumbled.\n\nHe waved his hand at me, \"Then go, with the rest of them.\"\n\n\"Where, exactly, am I going? Since you don't seem too keen to tell me where I am.\" I sighed. \n\nHe narrowed his eyes at me, \"You're in hell. Aren't you going to leave?\" \n\nI racked my brain. From what I could remember from the Bible. I'm pretty sure what I did justified me being here. \n\n\"Again, not exactly sure where I'm supposed to go. This seems like the correct venue. Except... not as much eternal hellfire, damnation, and the wails of those who have sinned. Did I miss something?\" I glanced around. If this was hell, it seemed as if the whole world had lost the memo. \n\n\"You haven't heard about the loophole?\" He asked me. \n\nI shook my head, \"No.\"\n\n\"Ah. Well, if you fancy yourself a nice piece of heaven, you might as well go. God realized punishing sinners just wasn't righteous or what the hell ever.\" He went back to his harmonica. \n\nI sat down, crossing my legs, \"Why aren't you there?\" \n\nHe stopped, hitting a sour note, \"Because I'm the exception to the rule.\" \n\n\"Why's that?\" \n\n\"You ask too many fucking questions.\" He snarled, setting the harmonica down. \n\nI shrugged, \"Sorry. Who are you supposed to be?\"\n\n\"It's fine. Just. Knock it off. I'm Lucifer. Better known as 'The Devil'. Stupid fuckin' nickname.\" \n\n\"You don't look like the Devil.\" I commented. \n\n\"Your people only got shit right about 3% of the time.\" \n\nI nodded, figuring as much. \n\nHe shook his head, \"Look. If you stay here I'm gonna have to set you on fire or something,\" He glanced around, \"Fuck. Where'd I put my fire stick?\" \n\nI chuckled, \"Fire stick?\" \n\nHe nodded, getting up from his seat and glancing around, \"Yeah. It's this bad ass stick that sets people on fire. Kind of self explanatory.\" \n\n\"If there's a loophole for all the assholes who've done some realllyyy fucked up shit, why isn't there a loophole for you?\" \n\nHe stopped searching and shrugged, \"Dunno.\" \n\n\"How about I trade you spots? I'll stay down here and play music, and you go enjoy heaven?\" \n\n\"Do you realize how stupid you sound?\" He scoffed. \n\n\"About as stupid as murderers, child molesters, and tax evaders getting a get out of hell free card.\" I shrugged, smiling at the last bit. \n\nEdit: because I forgot a line. And clarification. ",
"\n\n\n\"It's not really *such* a bad place, I think.\" Said the man. \n\n\nHe had set down his harmonica the moment that Jobe had come into the chamber, but the mysterious notes he had been playing still resonated darkly off of the smooth stone. Jobe stared at him. The man seemed so normal, so *ordinary*, that he almost didn't notice how out of place he was. He wore old-style formal wear, complete with bow-tie and tails that draped over his rocky chair as if they had been designed to do just that. Were it not for the pool of magma that illuminated his face, or the red arrow-like tail that slipped from his waistband, Jobe might have thought him a simple waiter. \n\n\"At least...\" He continued. \"Not as bad as some of your kind have put it, now, is it? For being *literally Hell*, I think it's rather nice.\"\n\n\"Are you...?\" Jobe began. He paused, unsure of how to continue. \n\n\"The Devil?\" The man asked. He grinned, and Jobe couldn't help but notice his overly-pointed canines. \"The one and only. What, were you expecting something else?\" He played a few more notes on his harmonica. \n\n\"No, I just...\" Jobe stammered. \"It's...how did I get here? What happened?\" \n\n\"A car accident, I presume.\" Said the man, eyeing Jobe's blood-stained t-shirt and cargo pants. \"Nasty way to go. Of course, I can't be too sure. I can't claim to be *omniscient*, unlike some people who would best go unnamed.\" \n\n\"No, I remember *that*.\" Jobe said. \"I mean...why am I *here*? In *Hell*.\"\n\n\"Oh. That.\" The Devil replied. \"Yes, well that I do have the answer for. Atheism is quite the crime, young man. You should be ashamed of yourself.\" \n\n\"I ran a charity!\" Jobe spat. \"I...I dedicated my life to serving others!\" \n\n\"But not to serving *Him*, Jobe. That was your mistake.\" Replied the man, studying his polished fingernails. \"All too common, these days.\"\n\n\"So...I'm...damned?\" Jobe replied. \"There's nothing I can do?\" \n\n\"*Au contraire, mon frère*.\" Replied the demon, smiling his fang-toothed smile. \"I am required to tell that there is, indeed, a way for you to get out of Hell.\" \n\n\"There is, is there?\" Jobe asked, suspicious. \"What's the catch? Do I have a choice of ten thousand years or a wooden spoon or something?\" \n\nThe Devil chuckled. \"Amusing, but no.\" He replied. \"Simply go back the way you came, back through the tunnels and the dark, and you will find yourself at a staircase. Easy enough, no? But Jobe! I urge you to consider staying here, with me! I would give you power, make you a general, a lord of demons!\" \n\n\"Uhh...no, actually. I think I'll just be on my way.\" Jobe said. \n\n\"I thought not.\" The devil replied, smirking. \"Very few fall for that trick, and of those most still choose to leave eventually just the same. Very well! I wish you luck, Jobe...may you find what you are looking for.\" \n\n\"...Yeah. Sure.\" Jobe said, turning his back on the Beast. \"Whatever you say.\" He clambered over the uneven stone and slipped back into the darkness of the tunnel, not even noticing the slight downward incline. \n\nThe devil smiled. \n\n\n***\n*Note: This should go without saying, but this piece in no way reflects how I actually view religion or atheism in any way. To each their own!*\n\n*Thanks for the read! CC welcomed, and if you enjoyed this piece, feel free to check out my others over at /r/TimeSyncs!*",
"There he was. He wasn't big or muscular. He didn't even give off an otherworldly feeling of terror like Jones always suspected he would. Instead, he gave Jones the impression of someone terribly lonely. Without Jones realizing, the Devil had stopped quietly playing his harmonica and had been staring as openly as Jones had been. \"Hello,\" said the devil to Jones, \"did you like my music?\" Whatever Jones had been expecting, it was not that, but years of etiquette lessons had make Jones speak, \"Yes, the melody is rather fitting\" before he was even fully aware of doing so. The devil smirked, stood, and gave a mock bow- in that motion Jones noticed a slender chain encircling the Devil's cloven foot. The Devil's eyes followed Jones' downwards and the smirk fell from his face. With a small sigh the devil sat once more and regarded Jones. \"If you want to leave, you just have to cross the river.\" \n\n\n\"That's it?\" Jones questioned, \"I had always thought that it would be more difficult.\" \n\n\nThe devil fingered his harmonica, \"Yes, many do. But, all the same, that's how you leave.\" \n\n\nThe information was startling enough that Jones sat opposite of the Devil, who was still fiddling with his instrument. After a moment of thinking, Jones settled for, \"Why?\".\n\n\nThe devil glanced up, \"Because this place was originally just meant to punish me.\" He continued in a smaller voice, \"for what I tried to do.\" ",
"There he sat on the stool, the same red-faced ruler of the underworld that I'd heard so much about. He wore a suit, his tie hanging loose and his collar unbuttoned, revealing a bit of his crimson chest. His Panama hat was tilted to just above his eyes, which gazed down at his harp and payed me no heed. \n\nHe played a bar. Each note rang and warbled with the torment that burst forth from his being. *I am a lonely man,* he crooned, matching the temperament of his harp. *And I don't like being by my self.* He played another bar. I'd never heard blues like this. I could've gone to heaven, just like everyone else, but this lonely hell-bound harmonica player and the baby grand piano behind him cried out for company. \n\n--------------------\n\n*I'm a, lonely man* sang the devil. I echoed the sentiment on the keys with a steady arpeggio. A few people at the bar rocked back and forth with their beers, swaying to the rhythm. The lights were few and dim to perfect the intended mood of our new spot, the devil's and mine. \n\nAnother light flicked on on-stage, revealing the upper half of our saxophone player. He rode a scale from top to bottom, his entire body following the notes. I leaned in toward my microphone. \"Ladies and gentlemen, mister Charlie Parker.\" People rose and applauded him.\n\n-----------------\n\nOur place was growing fast. Our audience expanded nightly. There were people from all walks of afterlife; curious people, people who'd never heard the blues before, people who never thought they'd miss grief and woe but *missed* the blues. In the end, the devil got his wish. He was causing torment once again, and people suspended their time in paradise to crowd into our bar and hear it and feel it again, and again...\n\n*You ain't nothing but a, little girl, but you forgot I was your man.* The band and I played him out as he blew those last, beautiful, piercing notes. The brim of his Panama hat still covered his gaze and cast a shadow on his face. His fingers shook in rhythm as his hands worked the harp and sculpted the bends of the melody. We finished and the lights dropped. The place erupted with applause. Another great turnout in hell.\n\n",
"There he was. The devil sat there by himself, legs dangling off of a ledge. He grasped a harmonica in his hands and between his lips, out of which came music that was not as sad as one might expect in such a situation. Rather, it was an utterly beautiful, complex piece that moved me to sadness because it had no audience to hear it other than me alone. \n\nI sat silently and listened through the song in its entirety, completely enchanted by it. When he finished, the man before me lowered the instrument down into his lap and opened his eyes. He scanned my entire being up and down. His pale skin creased and shimmered as a gentle smirk folded from his mouth.\nI clapped. I couldn't help myself as it was the most beautiful music I had ever heard, but I also couldn't help myself but feel disturbed in who I just clapped for.\n\n\"Thank you.\"\n\n\"No, no,\" I choked. \"Thank you.\"\n\n\"What are you doing here?\"\n\n\"I, well, I'm dead I suppose.\"\n\n\"Everyone else left.\"\n\n\"I had heard of that.\"\n\n\"Why are you still here?\" \n\nHis eyes pierced my mind deeper than his question. He had the look of a family member, genuinely concerned about my wellbeing.\n\n\"Why are you still here?\" I asked him.\nHe didn't express it anywhere but a shift in his feet, but I took him by surprise.\n\n\"If everyone can leave, then you can too can you not? Why would you not go to heaven?\"\n\n\"Have you ever thought about who the devil is?\" he asked me.\n\n\"Well - he is sneaky and a liar.\"\n\n\"A deceiver, yes.\"\n\n\"And beastial, I think. Though you don't look...\"\n\n\"I don't?\" he raised his eyebrows intrigued. \"Tell that to everyone that left.\"\n\n\"So just a deceiver then. A fallen angel,\" I finalized my answer.\n\n\"Why would a deceiver allow any of his captives to leave?\"\n\n\"I, well, I suppose he wouldn't be a very good deceiver if he couldn't keep prisoners,\" I pondered.\n\nHe stared at me with those sharp eyes of his, piercing straight to the back of my head. It seemed as if a thousand years raced by as we looked at each other.\n\n\"My god-\"\n\n\"Nice to meet you.\"",
"“Next stop, the inner circle of Hell,” our tour guide angel announced in a cheery voice. I looked at my wife and raised my eyebrows. She took my hand and patted it. \n\n“Probably where you would have ended up if you hadn’t met me,” she whispered. \n\nOur cloud train came to a stop before a large glass window. Beyond the window was a cave, lit by scattered embers and bordered by a river of lava. A large throne dominated the room, and on the throne slouched a young man, slowly swinging his foot while he played a harmonica. \n\n“Here he is,” beamed our guide, “Satan! Once the highest of angles, he betrayed God and was cast down to the deepest dungeon in Hell. He is by far our most popular attraction, though Hitler follows a close second.” \n\nThere was a beat of silence, followed by a general rumbling of discontent among our group of Heavenly tourists.\n\n“Doesn’t seem so bad to me,” a large Texan with a white hat commented. “I can see fire and brimstone, but I expected more agony.” \n\n“He just looks bored,” said a gaunt pious man beside him.\n\n“How come he has a harmonica?” asked an old lady. “We were just given harps.”\n\n“They probably gave Hitler a damn piano,” said her friend.\nOther comments and complaints piled on till our guide held up her hand. \n\n“Don’t be deceived,” she cautioned. “You are witnessing the most terrible of tortures.” \n\n“What? Sitting on a chair playing a harmonica?” The Texan was outraged. “Sounds more like a timeout than torture.”\n\n“I can’t believe I prayed and fasted my whole life to avoid this,” muttered a monk in a robe next to me.\n\n“Trust me,” said the guide. “You wouldn’t want this. This is the result of a great many punishment trials of hellish punishments, and it is by far the most effective. We tried continuous whirlwinds, winter storms, attacking dogs, massive weights, slime and sludge, fire, boiling blood, petrification, whipping, cess pits, drowning, more fire, freezing, and a host of other things. All of them were considered too easy by those in Heaven. Worse, some of the victims actually seemed to be enjoying their punishment. You see, we are dealing with quite depraved individuals here. We were losing hope of ever finding a suitable punishment for those sent to Hell, when we came across a completely new idea. We just left them alone.\" \n\n“Just left them alone?” the Texan spluttered.\n\n“Yes. We left them completely and utterly alone. No interactions, no stimulation, no food, no drink, no company, nothing except a single musical instrument to remind them of what they were missing out on.”\n\n“For how long?” asked the old woman.\n\n“For eternity.”\n\nThis time, our silence stretched for many long beats. While we watched. Satan let his hand drop to his side. His fingers opened and the harmonica fell to the floor. He let out a huge sigh and stared vacantly at the wall of the cave. \n\nSomeone began to cry.\n\n“How did you ever come up with such a cruel punishment?” I asked. \n\n“We didn’t,” said our guide angel. “We copied it from you all. Solitary, isn’t that what you call it?” \n",
"I never thought meeting Satan would be so sad. He sat on his thrones of charred bones all alone, with his tail lashing behind him and his horns protruding into the black and red sky. The shrill noise of the harmonica he was playing beat against my ears over the rumble of distant thunder and the crackling of Hellfire.\n\nI knew I was supposed to go to Hell, people like me were destined to. What I was surprised by was how empty Hell would be. What the fuck happened to going to Hell for the company? Lying Mark Twain, that son of a bitch. \n\nSatan stopped his dreaded harmonica playing when he saw me, standing stupidly in my all black clothes. His eyes brightened and his tail wagged like a puppy's? He gestured me forward. Reluctantly, I walked down the bone-laid road to Satan's throne. \n\n\"Hello, human,\" said Satan, his voice two different pitches of utter nightmare. I physically winced when I heard it, and Satan frowned. \"I can fix the voice if you don't like it.\" He said that in a warm baritone.\n\n\"That's great, thank you.\" Up close, he was about 8-feet tall, with his throne twice as large as him. He smelled of sulfur and brimstone, no surprise there. And he only wore a thick loincloth held up by a belt of frozen intestines. It did an adequate of hiding his private parts.\n\n\"So...\" the Devil started, looking around. He scratched his ear. \"What are you in for?\" \n\n\"Shouldn't you know?\" I asked. \"Don't you read the records of who gets admitted?\" \n\nHe sighed, a yellowy cloud escaping his mouth. \"I had a demon for that, but he left for Heaven, too. Just like the rest of them.\" He bit his lower lip as his eyes watered a little bit. \n\n\"Left for Heaven?\" What the fuck was he talking about? And why the fuck was he so upset?\n\nThe Dark Lord pounded his fist against his throne, got up and walked behind it, his shoulders slumping. \"There's some loophole that allows people to leave Hell for Heaven. Stupid God and his goddamn tricks!\" \n\nI cleared my throat, following him around the throne. \"That's why this place is so empty.\" \n\n\"You don't have to rub it in my face,\" he muttered, bringing out his harmonica and playing it. This just keeps getting sadder and sadder.\n\n\"Hey, listen...\"\n\n\"What? Do you want to leave, too? Fine! I will show you where the damn loophole is!\" \n\nWatching Satan frown was quite a visceral experience. Who would have thought that the embodiment of sin could get lonely. I don't know what it was but I wanted to help him. I spent my life helping people everyone called devils. Why not help the actual Devil?\" \n\n\"Hey, Satan. Why don't you show me the loophole, and I will see if I can fix it for you.\" \n\nHe leaned forward, his tailed moving again. \"Why? Are you a lawyer? How good are you?\"\n\n\"I kept the Lehman brothers out of jail.\" \n\nSatan's eyes widened, and his lips curled into a smile. \"Would you really do that for me? Look through God's contract?\" \n\nI sighed. \"Sure, why not?\"\n\nSatan leaped to his feet, shaking the ground. \"Do you think we can get everybody back?\" \n\nI looked around at the desolation around me, and then at Satan's pleading eyes. \"Yes. But why don't we revamp the place, too. Make it a little more enjoyable.\" \n\n\"But that would go against the contract.\" \n\n\"Not if I can help it.\"\n\nHe clapped his hands. \"I like you already. Come on. Let's stick it to my father!\" \n\n\"Yeah...\" \n\nI was still unsure what I was getting into, but watching Satan perk up like that was enough for me to continue.\n\n\"Can we get something to eat first?\" I asked. \"I am starving.\" \n\n\"Oh, yeah, that comes with the territory.\" He put his hand on my back. \"But I can take care of that. No other place cooks meat better than Hell's kitchen. And I can make a killer steak.\" \n\n\"Sounds good.\" \n\n\"And if we have time, I can play my harmonica for you.\" \n\n\"Let's save that for when we fix the loophole.\"\n\n\"Yeah! And when we do, you can be advisor.\" \n\n\"I would rather stick to being your lawyer.\" \n\n\"How about being my 'friend'?\"\n\n\"Sure, buddy.\"\n\n\n__________________________________________________________________\n\nStellar law advice over on [r/JasonHolloway](https://www.reddit.com/r/JasonHolloway/). Jump in front of a car, and I will get you millions! \n\n",
"When you consider that Judgement isn't graded on a bell curve and is, in fact, a super stringent set of requirements that one was meant to follow over what seemed, at the time, an incredibly long amount of time one would assume hell would be practically filled to the brim. \n\nSo when I found myself utterly alone in an endless field of flames and suffering I took a moment to really rethink what it was that had made me the single eligible applicant to hell. Seeing as I was pretty much the coolest guy and way too handsome for my many teeny tiny sins to have counted I came to the conclusion that this was an obvious mixup and I just had to find management and get this straightened out. \n\nAfter wandering for an eternity with only strips of my own flesh to use as trail markers on the never ending corpse decorated stalagmites and maggot cased bone spires I finally found another soul.\n\n\"Excuse me, sir, I believe theres been a mixup. I admit I've done some scummy things what with the cheating and lying and whatnot but, be real, who hasnt? My wife wasn't feeling it and if God didn't want it he wouldn't have invented tindr. And let's be honest everyone lies on their taxes, I mean I did use my computer for work so it could be reasoned that it was a....\"\n\n\"Its not a mixup,\" the figure boomed, dejectedly. His barrel chest expanding menacingly as he inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly into his harmonica, flames jetting from the holes as it produced a depressing cacophony of \"bwaaaaaaaaaaas\".\n\n\"you're here because youre a sinner and I guess if you say you're sorry and kinda mean it you can go to heaven so, whatever, see you later.\"\n\nBwaaaaaaaaa the harmoica moaned followed by another, shorter, bwaa that maybe was supposed to be a flat note but its hard to tell because he was basically just blowing on every single hole at once.\n\n\"Yeah, about that,\" I replied smiling, worried that my smile seemed disingenuous because i had been forced to eat my own lips and cheeks for sustenance decades ago, \"I dont think you understand. I can't rightly apologize for something that I didn't do wrong. While it could be argued that I have sinned its obvious that everyone did and my sins were like baby sins compared to most and, lets be honest, sure I used my vast inheritance selfishly and maybe I could have done a bit more for my children, im not going to apologize for that because thats like nothing compared to others.\"\n\nThe demon's bwaaas had gone silent as he looked me over. I gave a sheepish wave with what remained of my hand after the locusts had had their fill.\n\n\"You just have to say sorry. I dont think you even have to mean it.\"\n\n\"Well I obviously couldnt mean it, that would be lying which is a sin and apparently a really big one if im here and Hitler isnt.\"\n\nThe devil sat staring, disbelief forming on his face.\n\n\"And honestly,\" I continued, \"I always figured the good would offset the bad stuff, sure I stole from pensions but I always tipped well at the club. Ask Rosa, I gave her chance after chance after chance before I fired her for stealing the good silver and, yeah, I found it later but it's the fact that I gave her so many chances that proves how decent I am. Im not going to apologize for firing her I didnt get to where I am by letting people steal from me.\"\n\nAs I took a seat next to him and continued to extol my many virtues and expand on the unfair realities of the world the devil's eyes began frantically scanning the horizon. \n\nI explained, in detail, my political and religious beliefs to him as he shattered my bones with his massive hands, I attempted to summarize my screenplay as he filled my mouth with molten lead, and I found it increasingly difficult to summarize my love for the St. Louis Cardinals and he forcibly shoved my head into what remained of my worm infested anus.\n\n\"In short,\" I mumbled into my own ass \"Denzel was only given an oscar to sate the ess double you jays if you catch my drift.\"\n\n\"JESUS CHRIST IM SORRY.\" he yelled and like that was gone. Which is fine, I thought as I waddled on into the abyss, ill just have to speak with his manager.\n\n",
"I sit for a while and listen to the Devil play the exquisite, golden instrument. He has not even seen me; his eyes are closed and it seems as if he is in a trance. In his great hands the harmonica looks like a miniature, but he plays it so fast and loud, that somehow, the music it produces is more full than any orchestra I've ever heard. The hairs on my arms prick up.\n\nThe melody is haunting, but beautiful. It floats around the cavern, and transports me to a ship in olden times. I am alone, standing on the deck. My crew has deserted me and the vessel floats lonely, as I wait to die. \n\nThe melody speeds up and the Devil picks out notes that shouldn't work together; dissonant flats and sharps; majors and minors that should never touch. I see gigantic waves form in the distance. They crash like thunder against the bow of the ship. The pale moon above is slowly engulfed by a blood-red cloud.\n\nHe plays faster still; the vessel tosses and turns, and creaks and moans like it is nothing more than a twig. My heart pounds. There is something below the ship, I can *sense* it. Something, great and huge and above all, *terrible*. It is moving up. Closer to the surface -- closer to the boat. It rises!\n\nThe Devil stops and opens his eyes. I don't know why, but I begin *clapping*. Applauding the Devil. Slowly first, and then faster and louder. I can't help myself.\n\n\"Welcome,\" he says with a sly smile.\n\n\"That was...\"\n\n\"I've had eternity to practice.\"\n\nI nod, as if I can possibly understand. \"Am I dead?\" I ask. \n\n\"You are.\"\n\n\"And you're... Satan?\" I barely dare to whisper the name, and that seems to amuse him. He laughs; a deep, rich laugh.\n\n\"I am.\" \n\n\"Then I'm in... What was my crime? Why do I deserve eternal damnation?\" I demand. I am sure I lived an honest life.\n\n\"It will come back to you,\" he says. I shiver, and he sees it. \"Worry not,\" he snorts, \"*Eternal* is not what it used to be.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\" I ask, furrowing my brows.\n\n\"God has... changed the rules. No one need stay here now. There is forgiveness for all his *children*.\" He spreads his arms wide and I look around the empty cavern. \"Even you,\" he says as his lips curl up into a demon's smile.\n\n\"I- I can still go to heaven?\"\n\n\"You can,\" he says as he reaches for his harmonica once more. \"Only **I** must stay. Now, leave me. Go play with your old friends. I have no interest in delaying you.\" He points me towards a hollow in the cavern's wall. He closes his eyes and begins playing that beautiful music once more.\n\nThe bitter-sweet sound takes me away again. This time I am in a car. *My* car. I've been drinking, celebrating a performance. I didn't see her in the darkness. No. It *wasn't* dark. There is a thud. A scream. I don't stop.\n\nThe terrible memory returns. I killed her. I killed the lady as she pushed her pram. \n\nThen, a single month later I killed myself.\n\nI collapse onto the rock floor and weep as the haunting music wraps itself around me like a child's blanket. It comforts me.\n\nWhen, eventually he stops and sees me still sitting there, he looks almost... surprised.\n\n\"Why?\" he asks simply.\n\n\"I killed them. I don't deserve heaven.\"\n\n\"It matters not if you deserve it.\"\n\n\"It matters to me.\"\n\nThere is silence for a while. Two fallen angels together in their loneliness. \n\n\"Teach me to play,\" I ask.\n\n\"...\"\n\n\"I want to play like you. I want to bare my soul through music. I *need* to.\"\n\n\"It would take an eternity to play like me,\" he says. \n\n\"I have eternity at my disposal.\"\n\nThe Devil smiles. \n\n---\n\nMany more stories on /r/nickofnight (free mug for new subs: c[_] )\n\nEdit: Thank you so much to the kind soul that gilded this",
"He stared at me with his yellow eyes, quietly playing the harmonica. He looked... almost sad. You know what, no, he was actually sad. Why wouldn't he be? He spent his entire life sitting on an empire, and everyone just up and left him suddenly. Even his demons left; with no reason to stay, and no job to fulfill, they themselves were able to return to Heaven. \n\nI looked around the room I now sat in, taking in what was there. There wasn't much to take in really; it was a simple room, almost like one you'd find in a cottage far out in the country. There was a window on the left wall; it looked out onto reddish stone, a lava stream trickling from a small hill a ways off. Surprisingly, even though there wasn't any sun to shine, it was still light enough to see everything clearly without having to squint.\n\nSuddenly, the music stopped. I looked over to the Devil as he set the harmonica on the table we both sat at.\n\nSighing, he spoke; \"Well, why don't you leave? I've already explained to you there's nothing here. There's nothing to make you stay any more, though I suppose that's inaccurate; there was never anything that made people stay, it just wasn't very clear.\" \n\nI looked back out the window, silent. Why am I staying here? I'm lucky he's not in a vengeful mood anymore, or I'd probably already be in a river of lava much deeper than the stream out the window. \n\nI turned back to him and spoke, saying, \"I'm not sure. I wound up here because I killed myself, and, even if I don't have to stay, if I left for heaven I'd have to deal with everyone again. All the people that were mean in life were supposed to be down here, and now that they can leave, I bet they're in Heaven, unchanged. Why would I join them there when they're the reason I'm here in the first place?\"\n\nThe Devil was quiet. He shifted in his seat, though he didn't stand. When he spoke, his voice wasn't quite as sullen as it had been before; \"well, in that case, I suppose you're here to stay. There's not much to do here, but sometimes it's nice just to...\" he paused, looking at the ground. He shook his head and continued, \"sometimes it's nice just to sit in quiet and not talk to people.\"\n\nI smiled. That didn't sound bad at all, just sitting around. We sat like that, sitting there for who knows how long. The distant bubbling of lava provided a nice ambience that just let a person relax. I decided, while sitting there, that I was going to stay in Hell. Who knows, maybe I'll even bother getting to know the Devil a little better sometime.\n\n(Sorry for any bad grammar, I'm on mobile and wrote this during study hall.)\n\nEDIT (9:19 P.M. CST 02/19/2017) A few minor spelling/grammar errors I finally got 'round to correcting, as wellas a big thanks to u/kittenparry for popping my gold-cherry!"
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[WP] A successful architect harbors a dark secret... years ago he was cursed, so that any building he finishes will be host to grisly murders and accidental deaths | 3 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"After much careful planning, my target appeared as I predicted. I did lots of research in preparation. The place he lives, his job, his income, and his accomplishments. His designs were world-famous and he lived the dream. I hate people like him. Once they get successful, they always get arrogant and foolish. I work as a hit-man. This was not always the case. I used to be out on the streets without a home and with a bleak future. That is until I met a rich executive in a large company who paid me and gave me a home, if and only if, I helped do his dirty work whenever he called. I hated the fact that I accepted and I hate the fact that I am a killer. My employer, Creskass, made me his various enemies, who were corrupt. It was sickening, every single time I pulled the trigger. I made an oath to myself, this time will be the last time I kill.\n\nHe approached the construction site as I had predicted. I followed quietly behind. He got on the elevator and kept minding his own business, his mind closed to the outside noise and interference. *Even better for me* I thought. I got on the next elevator to the floor he is on. He barely noticed me that is until, as fate would have it, he dropped his blueprints and turned around. There was something about him that I couldn't get my mind on...\n\n\"Wha-\" He started saying.\n\n\"Quiet or you're dead!\" I hissed.\n\n\"Ok! Ok! I'll be quiet.\" He said. I lowered my pistol and he continued contrary to what he said a few moments earlier, \"Why me? Why kill me of all people? I never did anything to you!\"\n\nI raised my pistol once more and said, my voice slightly harsher this time, \"I said quiet! Anyways, my employer wants you dead for reasons I do not inquire.\"\n\nThe man put his hands up and started pleading, \"Please... please! I have a daughter, I'll give you money. I don't think you are such a bad person otherwise you would have killed me as soon as I saw you.\"\n\nHis entire body language was showing someone of innocence, someone who would never so harm an ant. My eyes started feeling heavy, I dropped my gun and said, \"I don't want to kill anymore.\"\n\n\"Don't worry about that.\" The architect said as he began walking towards me. I sat on the concrete floor, and looked up at the ceiling. I thought back on all the brutal things I did and towards the future, of a new life, free from my past and my misdeeds. \n\nThe architect picked up my gun and eyed it nonchalantly. He said with a twisted smile, \"You'll never kill again.\". He shot me in the leg and pain flared up in my head. I couldn't do anything but think feel the massive punch the bullet gave me. My strength left me and I was helpless. At that moment, I realized, *he wears the face of someone innocent as the most evil people do*.\n\nHe grabbed me by my armpits and brought me to the edge of the building, my body angled dangerously, I could feel the cold wind brushing against my back, and I could envision the mounds of dirt at the bottom waiting to embrace me from my fall. With my last few moments, I uttered under my breath, \"Curse you, curse you and your designs. Any building you finish will be homes to people with my past.\"\n\nHis face emotionless, he let go.\n\n"
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[WP] You were bitten by a zombie, but kept your mind. While other zombies are running around killing for brains, you are trying to figure out what to do next. | 15 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"The first thing I heard was the screaming. My vision was blurry, and there were people all around me.. Someone was screaming something, my name? It called out desperately, \"THOMAS! THOMAS ARE YOU THERE?\" Slowly the mess of blurry colors sharpened to show 2 people in front of a fortified building, one of them was calling me, the other was pulling him back, \"He's dead Roy, there's nothing you can do.\" This was obviously not true! I stood up and started waving my hands frantically, but Roy seemed to realize the futility of the situation and left willingly. That's when I realized the nature of the crowd I was in. They were horrid looking things, shambling about, zombies. But, why were they ignoring me? Was I... no, it couldn't be! Not like this, I looked down at my chest, there was a huge gash in what used to be my chest cavity. I couldn't help it, I started screaming, it came out rasping, as if my vocal cords didn't have the strength to power the scream. All the zombies stopped at once and with feverish energy, started scrambling about and looking for the source of the humanoid scream, after several minutes, they seemed to calm down and went back to moaning and groaning like idiots. Why wasn't I just like them, moaning and groaning like a mindless blob of rotten flesh? Did fate not think it was cruel enough to take my life and turn me into a zombie, but also to give me the mind of a man? I lay down on the ground, trying to cry, no tears come out though, all the fluid in my body had been sucked out or dried. One zombie, taking me for a dead body, attempts to bite into my arm, I jerk it away, \"Shoo! Get away!\" I rasp, the zombie confusedly shambles off. I sit there for a bit, figuring out what to do, screams ring out through the street, no doubt more mindless zombies being created... I pinch myself, thinking this is a dream, unfortunately the skin comes peeling right off painlessly. I guess this is real alright. Suddenly, the sound of shotguns go off, a cluster of bullets shred through the zombies on my right, uncertain and disoriented, I see the ragged looking humans. It's the two from before, I look at them, suddenly I'm very hungry, like a mad hunger coming from the pit of my soul, I look at the pair of humans with a mix of hunger and repulsion, the two natures of my body and brain clashing. Before I can decide which action to act upon, the one that was called Roy stares me in the eyes, a flash of recognition showing across his face. \"THOMAS! YOU'RE ALIVE!\". The other man, with a grim look on his face, walks up with a gun in hand. \"That's not Thomas anymore...\" I suddenly realize what he's about to do, and I frantically start trying to explain what happened, but all that comes out is a series of incomprehensible moans, this seemed to harden the man of any hesitation he would've had, he took aim... \n\nThe last thing I heard was the screaming.",
"*Pain.*\n\nYou look down. You see the item fall out of your head.\n\n*Metal. It is metal.*\n\nYou recall with perfect clarity what the object is made out of.\n\nWait, what?\n\nThat can't be right. You know this because...because...\n\nYou think for awhile-give or take five minutes, but eventually it comes to you.\n\n*You were bitten.*\n\nThere's the answer. It took awhile to come to you, but your mind is as sharp as ever. One of them bit you. The walking corpses that are plaguing this world, killing everything they can get a hold of. Those mindless killing machines that ruined the world.\n\nZombies.\n\n*Wait. This is wrong.*\n\nZombies don't think. Or at least, they shouldn't. The ones your group of survivors encountered were more like simple beasts than any human-even some of the stupider ones you've seen.\n\n*Why are you different?*\n\nYou struggle as you try to remember. While you can still think perfectly fine, your mind is no longer as fast as it once was. Maybe that throbbing in your head is related to it? You gingerly reach up, scraping dirt encrusted nails across your forehead, tearing into your rotten scalp. You idly note that you can't feel pain.\n\nSuddenly, you remember why that throbbing is there. They put the metal object in your head. They did it. The others.\n\nYour fellow survivors.\n\nThey did it because you had been bitten. It was the sensible thing to do, you all agreed. You didn't want to infect them, and they didn't want you infecting anyone else. So, they shot you in the head. Once. No sense in wasting ammunition, after all.\n\nBut you had managed to survive...and what's more, you could think! You could think like a human, yet you had all the benefits of their \"condition\". Zombies never tired, didn't need to sleep, and-so far as anyone knew, didn't *need* to eat. (didn't stop them from doing so, though. Poor Jesse) If you joined up again, you could help them even more. You could save them from the other zombies.\n\nIf only you could speed up your thoughts. Maybe it was the result of the shot to the head? You moan in annoyance. If only you had some way to fix your stupid brain!\n\n*TAKE SOME.*\n\nYou jerk your head up, staring about wildly as you look around for who could have said that.\n\n*TAKE SOME.*\n\nWith a start, you realize that this voice is in your head, apparently telling you to \"Take some.\" But take some what?\n\n*TAKE SOME THOUGHTS.*\n\nYou puzzle out the meaning of this and then realize: it wants you to eat others! You shake your head in disgust-you aren't some undead freak like the others!\n\n*TAKE SOME THOUGHTS TO GET SOME THOUGHTS.*\n\nYou pause, then go over to the window. Down below you can see a survivor-the lone wolf type with plenty of guns.\n\n*No, I shouldn't.*\n\n*TAKE SOME THOUGHTS.*\n\n*Is this what I've become? Another one of them?*\n\n*TAKE SOME THOUGHTS.*\n\n*Besides, he would shoot me before I even reached him. I'd die again if he saw me.*\n\nBut as you shake your head to dissuade yourself from ideas that aren't yours, you happen to glance over at the man again. He is standing underneath your window, in plain sight as he relentlessly mows down the undead on the street.\n\n*DROP SOMETHING.*\n\nYou look in the apartment for something heavy. There! An old TV! Without pausing to think, you lift it and throw it out of the window, almost certainly killing him.\n\nYou quickly run down, eager to get at his thoughts.\n\nThoughts?\n\nIsn't the thing in his head called something else?\n\nYou shake your head-no matter. You just need his thoughts, and then you'll be good as new. Just like before! You'll be back to normal.\n\nHaving reached his corpse, you lick your lips, and begin to dig in.\n\n*TAKE IT ALL.*\n\nYou heed the voice, messily eating everything you can tear off his corpse. Suddenly, you hear a voice.\n\n\"Joe? Are you okay? I stopped hearing yo-OH MY GOD! JOE!\"\n\nShe covered her mouth with both hands as she looked at you. Mouth still full, you turned your head towards her.\n\n*TAKE SOME MORE.*\n\nYes, you needed some more. You didn't have nearly enough thoughts. You needed more. MORE.\n\nYou lunged at her, but she was ready. She brought her handgun up.\n\n*8 mm. Same thing they used. You'll be fine.*\n\nAnd indeed, you were. You aren't sure why-the movies say you wouldn't be moving right now. You don't care.\n\n*TAKE SOME MORE.*\n\n\"Shit, no no no, not like this, please, god, anything but this...\" she sobs as she starts to run. You easily catch her, sending her to the ground. You legs dully ache, the result of you putting more stress than a human would have on them in order to outpace a human. You aren't concerned.\n\nAfter all, you have enough meat here to repair any damage that you would have endured, so why should you be concerned? And after this, well, your fellow survivors can be of use to you in getting more meat. And if they aren't, well...\n\nYou'll just have to take some.\n***\n*Though you claim to be above your condition, \nyou are clearly acclimatized to your transition, \nso shed your humanity, and submit to the disease, \nas you pretend you don't bring others down onto their knees.*"
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"1486049190",
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[WP] The nose never stops growing, no matter how old you get. You are an immortal man who has lived for centuries | 5 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"Long ago, when my useless body had shriveled to a flake of skin on the back of my enormous nose, before they placed me, alone, in this water tower high above the town--the only prison they had for an abomination like me--I taught myself to hear through scent. It was an imperfect skill, interpreting the aroma of language, but over a hundred or so years, I mastered it.\n\nAnd then I sat, listening and waiting.\n\nI smelled the man enter my chamber. I estimated he was thirty years old, for the perfume of youth was still present in his odor. The man's great-grandparents would have been his age when I was locked up, the same people who took me from my bed in the middle of the night with tears in their eyes as they sealed me in.\n\nHe smelled nervous. I waited, patiently, as I always have. Finally, his breath wafted into my cavernous nostrils, flowering bouquets of halitositic musk: He was speaking.\n\nThe young man went on at length. His speech had been carefully prepared, for his people were decent folk, and I, the indecent monster that had been born amongst them, that had been one of them, deserved, they felt, this long and formal expression of their guilt for what they had to do.\n\nIf only they knew how relieved I was to smell the word \"mercy\". If only I could cry out with the mouth that had long ago withered away: \"Let the waters flow, my friends! Do not feel shame in what you are about to do. The monster forgives you!\"\n\nWhen he was done speaking, I smelled him leave. Then the waters began to rise."
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1,
4
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"1486063203",
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[WP] You have been hired by a Supervillian. Your job - to provide the voice behind live self-destruct countdowns. Describe your day-to-day life. | 3 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"SDA Log page 37\n\nMay 13th 2019 \n9:07 - Jeff began training Brian, the new Self Destruct Announcer (SDA) \n9:33 - Self destruct triggered, began 15:00 countdown \n9:37 - Self destruct cancelled, 10:38 remaining on countdown \n17:30 - Jeff Completes training Brian \n\nMay 15th 2019 \n4:43 - Self destruct triggered, (30 minute timer) \n5:00 - SDA Had been asleep, Began 12:03 countdown \n5:05 - Self destruct cancelled, 5:48 remaining on countdown \n\nMay 17th 2019 \n9:00 - Brian began training Logan, the new Self Destruct Announcer (SDA) \n9:30 - Staff meeting to address sleeping on the job \n9:31 - Mark reprimanded (sleeping on the job) \n9:32 - Mark has been fired (third offense) \n9:33 - Mark thrown into the shark pool \n9:37 - Observed a moment of silence for Mark \n17:30 - Brian completes training Logan. \n\nMay 21st 2019 \n9:07 - installation of an alarm in response to Mark almost sleeping through a self destruct event begins \n14:33 - Alarm installation completed. Staff on duty are now required to wear their alarm watches \n\nJune 1st 2019 \n9:30 - Monthly staff meeting (No topic, suggestions received from SDAs) \n\nJune 3rd 2019 \n9:00 - Monitor installation started, suggestion by SDA Logan \n15:22 - Monitor installation completed \n15:24 - Brian begins training on controlling the live video feed of the self destruct button \n15:25 - Brian completes training on Live video feed use \n\nJune 15th 2019 \n13:39 - Self destruct triggered, (20 minute timer) \n13:45 - SDA Brian returns from lunch begins 13:53 countdown \n13:58 - Self destruct cancelled, 0:18 remaining \n\nJune 17th 2019 \n9:30 - Staff meeting to address staff removing their alarm watches for lunches and breaks \n9:31 - Brian reprimanded (Not wearing alarm watch) \n9:32 - Brian returned to duty (first offense) \n\nJune 22nd 2019 \n9:01 - Self Destruct cancellation button installation started, suggestion by SDA Logan \n19:04 - Self Destruct cancellation button installation completed \n\nJune 23rd 2019 \n11:47 - Self destruct triggered, (15:00 timer) \n11:47 - Self destruct cancelled, 14:59 remaining \n11:50 - Self destruct triggered, (5:00 timer) \n11:50 - Self destruct cancelled, 4:59 remaining \n11:53 - Self destruct triggered, (Minimum 0:30 timer) \n11:53 - Self destruct cancelled, 0:29 remaining \n11:53 - Self destruct triggered, (Minimum 0:30 timer) \n11:53 - Self destruct cancelled, 0:29 remaining \n11:53 - Self destruct triggered, (Minimum 0:30 timer) \n11:53 - Self destruct cancelled, 0:29 remaining \n11:53 - Self destruct triggered, (Minimum 0:30 timer) \n11:53 - Self destruct cancelled, 0:29 remaining \n11:53 - Self destruct triggered, (Minimum 0:30 timer) \n11:53 - Self destruct cancelled, 0:29 remaining \n11:53 - Self destruct triggered, (Minimum 0:30 timer) \n11:54 - Self destruct cancelled, 0:29 remaining \n11:54 - Self destruct triggered, (Minimum 0:30 timer) \n11:54 - Self destruct cancelled, 0:29 remaining \n11:54 - Self destruct triggered, (Minimum 0:30 timer) \n11:54 - Self destruct cancelled, 0:29 remaining \n11:54 - Self destruct triggered, (Minimum 0:30 timer) \n11:54 - Self destruct cancelled, 0:29 remaining \n11:54 - Self destruct triggered, (Minimum 0:30 timer) \n11:54 - Self destruct cancelled, 0:29 remaining \n\nJuly 2nd 2019 \n9:30 - Monthly staff meeting (Topic: Standard Operating Procedure for self destruct cancellation) \n\nJuly 14th 2019 \n4:53 - Self destruct triggered, (15:00 timer) \n4:58 - Self destruct cancelled, 10:00 remaining \n\nJuly 30th 2019 \n22:17 - Self destruct triggered, (20:00 timer) \n22:22 - Self destruct cancelled, 14:59 remaining \n\nAugust 1st 2019 \n9:30 - Monthly staff meeting (No topic) \n\nAugust 3rd 2019 \n1:01 - Self destruct triggered, (30:00 timer) \n1:01 - Confirmation Baron Von Hammerhead sent self destruct request \n1:01 - Began countdown \n1:31 - Self destruction achieved "
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3
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"1486065937",
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[WP] "I would stop if i were you." .. | 4 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"I would stop if I were you, \n\nstop caring so much about trivial things.\n\nstop listening to what others think of me.\n\nstop trying to please those who we cannot.\n\nstop loving those who don't love us back.\n\nstop driving towards a life that we don't want.\n\nstop hurting ourselves with lies of 'I'll do it next time'.\n\nstop giving our time to nobodies.\n\nstop believing it will work itself out.\n\nstop ignoring our small wins for larger losses.\n\n... I should start, being more positive."
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"1486120913",
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gFQwn6M1RMc | [WP] The assassin was sent to kill a good man, to this day it haunts him still. | 3 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"I don't really keep up with current events; I find that the less I know about people, the better. I suppose one has to be a bit misanthropic to go into my line of work. After all, you can't exactly be a people person if you kill people for a living.\n\nThe contracts I had up until this point had been pretty small: A cheating husband here, a bitch of a boss there, etc. This particular contract, however, was a big one: $1,000,000 for a single man. That would be enough money for me to finally get out of the game, enough for me to take Amanda to one of those fancy Swiss clinics. This could be the one that solves all our problems.\n\nSo as I got set up on the roof, I wasn't thinking about WHO I was killing; I was thinking about WHAT I was getting. It was a frame of mind that I had cultivated over the years, as a sort of way of coping with the guilt.\n\nI peered through the scope to find my target: A tall, strapping man wearing a well-cut suit. He was sitting just behind the podium, awaiting his turn to address the crowd. Beside him sat a slim, shapely woman with dark skin and curly dark hair; on her lap was a little girl, a miniature version of the woman, in a pretty green dress.\n\nAs the man got up from his seat, my crosshairs moved with him to the podium. I let him start his little speech before taking a deep breath and-\n\n**click**\n\nThe bullet had hit him through the side of his head, causing his body to go spinning like a dance macabre. I couldn't help but chuckle as I watched everyone scurry away, panicking like ants under a magnifying lens. However, the smile ran away from my face as I watched the new widow clutch her husband's body, sobbing on his chest. I was just about to pull my eye away from the scope when I saw that little girl, now standing up, staring directly at me. Not panicking like the audience. Not weeping like her mother. Just staring at me with an expressionless gaze, almost like she saw where I was.\n\nI quickly stood up and took apart my gun, packing it in a faux guitar case. I couldn't get the little girl out of my head, giving me that unnerving stare. As I rushed my way to the elevator, I tried forgetting about the little girl, about what I just did to her, and about how she knew I was the one who did it. *That's stupid,* I told myself. *No one knows it was you! Why would she know it was you?*\n\nAs I stepped outside the back exit, I could hear the police cars approaching the building. Deciding to cut my losses, I threw my guitar case into the nearby river and began walking briskly into the building next door. Throwing away my gloves into a trash can by the door, I proceeded to the front entrance of the building, where a crowd of people had gathered to watch the police raid the building I had just come out of. I suppressed a smile as I watched them file in, one by one, not knowing that I was just next door.\n\nAs I walked away from the scene of the crime, I passed a department store window with several TVs on display. Another group was watching attentively, like little old ladies in church. Knowing what they were watching, I nevertheless decided to see it for myself.\n\n\"...And we are now getting reports that the police have just entered the Ziggurat Hotel, the suspected vantage point of the assassin. The Ziggurat has been closed for 3 weeks now for renovations. The owners of the Ziggurat have yet to be contacted.\"\n\n\"For those of you just tuning in, we are reporting that Dr. Abel Galán, president of Cervantes Labs, has been assassinated. Dr. Galán was a pioneer in cancer treatment, developing several low-cost alternatives to chemotherapy. He leaves behind his wife, Dr. Mia Galán-Baxter, and his daughter Irene.\"\n\nI felt myself go numb as I saw that little girl's face on the screen. She seemed so happy in the picture they showed, not at all like the hollow husk that stared back at me through my scope. Slowly, I peeled my eyes from my the screen as I walked away from the crowd.\n\n---\n\nI kept my eyes straight ahead as I walked through the hospital corridor, clutching the roses I bought tightly. I could feel their eyes on me: Doctors, nurses, patients, even the janitors. It was impossible for them to know, but I couldn't help but feel like they resented me. Like they knew what I had done just two days ago, what I had taken away from them.\n\nAs I came to room 2103, I took a deep breath. *Don't let her see what you've done,* I tell myself. *Don't let her see what you've taken from her.* Steeling myself, I put on a fake smile before stepping through the door. \"Hey, Mandy,\" I say softly. \"You feeling alright?\"\n\nAmanda looked away from the TV, her face brightening. \"What's the bouquet for?\" she smirked.\n\n\"Well, it's kind of a special occasion,\" I grinned. \"We're going to Switzerland tomorrow night!\"\n\nHer eyes widened in surprise. \"Really?! But I thought that would cost-\"\n\n\"Hey, what can I say? The people on Kickstarter really pulled through!\" I lied.\n\nShe let out a beautiful laugh, the first one I'd heard in years. She pulls me down to kiss her, and for a brief moment, I forgot all about my crime.\n\nWhen we pull apart, her face is flush with emotion, like it was on our wedding day. However, the smile quickly faded away as her eyes slid behind me. I turn around to see that the news is on the TV.\n\n\"Police have yet to find the man responsible for the assassination of Dr. Abel Galán, the pioneer of cancer treatment. ACPD have yet to release any potential suspects, though they have reported that they are following several leads. There will be public funeral at St. Michaels Cathedral this Saturday at noon.\"\n\nAmanda looks at me, worry in her eyes. \"That wouldn't be anyone from work, would it?\" she asks knowingly.\n\nI put on an unconvincing grin. \"Something THAT high-profile? Nah, couldn't be.\"\n\nShe raises an eyebrow at me. \"Then why are you holding those roses so tight?\"\n\nI look down to see that I had the bouquet in a death grip. Loosening my fingers, I could that a rose thorn had stuck itself to my thumb, dripping blood down my hand.",
"\"I have a family!\" Hands bound behind him, on his knees in the light of a single naked bulb, the target said anything that came to mind to prolong his existence. They always did.\n\n\"I know.\" The assassin's voice was as cold and as unmoved as death.\n\nThe target quailed, understanding his meaning. The target--Blake Guzman, 41, senior partner at the law firm of Smith, Smith, Smith, and Rogers. Three children, aged four to ten. Married his childhood sweetheart Alicia. He's good at his job. Made seven figures last year, including bonuses. Everything was going great for him until he took the Doan case and won it. Doan's organization was displeased at Guzman's legal aptitude. So they hired the assassin, who was now watching Guzman's eyes. They darted like hummingbirds on speed. He would attempt to make another bargain any moment.\n\n\"I can pay you more than whoever hired you,\" said Guzman.\n\nThe assassin almost found it funny. Poor people at least knew how to die with dignity. The rich, they always thought they could make a deal. \"No, you can't.\"\n\n\"Are they threatening your family? Is that why you're doing this?\"\n\nThe assassin smiled at that, making Guzman recoil in terror. This Guzman might be a little interesting. It had been quite some time since a target had wondered about the reasons for his visit. \"No. I have not had a family in a long time.\"\n\nGuzman blinked up at him. \"I'm sorry for your loss.\"\n\nHow very interesting. The assassin left the circle of light and returned with two dusty chairs. He set them opposite each other and took Guzman under the arm to hoist him into one, eliciting a grunt of pain from the bound man. He sat in the other chair, as lithe as a cat. A flicker of hope showed on Guzman's face at his suddenly improved circumstances. The assassin said, \"You seem like a good man.\"\n\n\"I give money to charity. I helped build my daughter's school. I buy Girl Scout cookies for the homeless!\" Guzman realized he was babbling and clamped his mouth shut.\n\nThe assassin nodded. He had known all of that, but none of that was proof of goodness, only proof of a rich man avoiding taxes. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His hands hung loosely. \"You are the first man in years to worry about anyone other than yourself while in a room with me. That is why I think you are a good man.\" The assassin considered him for a long moment, then shrugged minutely. \"I knew another good man once.\"\n\n\"Who--\"\n\n\"I killed him.\" The assassin's flat declaration made Guzman press back into the chair. \"He was much like you, now that I think on it. A pretty wife who he loved very much. Children filling their house with happy noise. A job that filled his soul, if not his wallet.\" The corner of his mouth turned up sardonically. \"Perhaps not *so* much like you, eh? But the most important thing you two good men have in common is that you angered the wrong people. They threatened this other man's family. 'We kill them unless you work for us,' you understand. Unless this man killed someone for them, they would eliminate his family.\"\n\nThe assassin paused to gather his thoughts. Guzman stared wide-eyed, transfixed by the story. \"So, of course, he did it. What else could a good man do but protect his family, even at the expense of another? So he took the photograph and the gun and the knife and he went to the place they told him. He found his target there, together with the target's family. Pretty wife, beautiful children. They were smiling. Happy.\" The assassin's hands rose and fell in a helpless shrug. \"The good man thought of his own family. He approached the target.\n\n\"The target's wife saw him coming. He looked like a good man, so she greeted him. 'Hello,' she said. 'Can we help you with something?' The target turned to look, and the good man put the gun to his head and fired. His blood covered his wife, but she did not scream. Shock is a powerful thing, Mr. Guzman,\" the assassin mused. \"It is often an ally in my line of work. This good man, with the gun hot in his hand and this irrevocable deed spread out before him, turned to leave.\n\n\"The woman started screaming then, and the good man thought, 'if I want to return to my family, I cannot leave a witness.' And he turned back. He raised the gun. He aimed carefully. He fired. The screaming stopped like he'd turned off a switch. He was pleased. He thought of his family. He would wash his hands of what he had done, he would return to them, and they would all be safe.\n\n\"Then... then the little girl said, 'daddy?' and at the same time the little boy said, 'mommy?' And the good man, being a good man, knew that he could not leave these children orphaned by such violence. Causing that sort of pain is not what a good man does.\"\n\nThe assassin turned his hands palms-up and fell silent, gazing down at them. \"As he aimed the gun at that child, that good man felt pleasure. Do you know what that good man learned about himself that day?\"\n\nGuzman made a choking noise.\n\n\"He learned that he was not a good man at all. He entered that place, but I left it.\" The assassin's eyes rose slowly and locked with Guzman's, as hypnotic as a snake. \"You are a good man with a simple choice: you or your family.\" The assassin rose to his feet and circled behind Guzman's chair. The slick sound of a knife leaving its scabbard made him cringe, but the assassin only cut the rope around his wrists.\n\nThe assassin returned to his chair and drew it closer to Guzman until they were sitting barely an arm's length apart. He drew his gun, turned it around, offered it to Guzman.\n\nGuzman took it with a shaking hand. His face twisted in anger and he raised the gun to the assassin's chest.\n\nThe assassin made no move, but Guzman was conscious of the knife held loosely in the man's fist. The assassin only continued to meet his eyes. \"Do you want to learn about yourself today?\"\n\nGuzman read the fatigue in the lines of the assassin's face and saw the old, hard sadness in his eyes. He thought of his family, who would go on missing him as a good man.\n\nGuzman put the gun in his own mouth."
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1,
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3
] | [
"1486132954",
"1486142870",
"1486145778"
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[WP] When a person dies they are cleared of memory and reincarnated, but the angels in charge of wiping memory forgot to clear yours. | 15 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"\"What the hell\" he thought as he rushed from a warm comfortable place into the bright and climate controlled hospital room. He began crying immediately.... Only it was the sound of an infant crying. Meanwhile at the Office of Reincarnation, and Re-Integration (O.R.R.), Frank had just realized his error. \"GABRIEL, he shouted literally flying down the all white hallway, we did it again, we have an Code Gray\". \n\n\"Again!\" Gabriel yelled back from his mahogany desk loaded with incoming and outgoing files as St. Peter looked on in disdain from the water cooler. \"The last time this happened.....do you remember Pol Pot, Frank?\" \"Yes...\" Frank replied. \"The only thing to do is to authorize the use of Plan Pink\". \"PLAN PINK....Do you actually think it will work?!?!\" Frank answered back. \"We can only hope St. Peter answered joining the two angels in the O.R.R. They never even thought to read the file on Michael McMillian before initiating Plan Pink\n\nMonths later, Michael McMulligan re-christened KeShawn Jones was living a normal life of an infant mildly aggravated at all the baby talk aimed toward him especially from his new \"aunt\" and \"nana\" but received pleasure whenever he made them change multiple diapers as payback. \"Maybe this time around, I can do it right\" Michael-Keshawn thought to himself as he wailed for a 3 am feeding \"This ain't to bad a life.... not to bad at all\". "
] | [
1,
2
] | [
"1486148998",
"1486158460"
] | |
[WP] Ever wondered why time doesn't actually "heal all wounds"? That's because it's a very old spelling error. They were actually referring to Tim. | 329 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"I broke up with my girlfriend of three years. I just don't know what to do with myself. I'm so used to talking to her on a regular basis, going to her house, cooking together and just spending time with her. After going out of state for schooling, we both realized that long distance wasn't really meant for us. It's been six months after that and I'm still not over her. I remember clearly, how her eyes sparkled in the daylight and how they made the sun look dim. I remember how her hair was dark even against the night sky. I remember her skin flawlessly glowed in the moonlight after making love and how warm our bodies felt holding each other afterwards. I'm waiting for time to heal me, yet time is relevant and I have little to no patience for that sort of thing. A few more months pass and I only grew lonelier as time passed. No friends to speak of, none that I was really close with to be honest. None that I could talk to honestly and openly about how I really felt day in and day out. Just constantly thinking of how much of a fool I was for losing a girl like that. A girl that lit a fire I didn't even know I had. A girl that brought me down to Earth not knowing I was in orbit. Other girls didn't make love the same and by the time a year passed I had forgotten how to love a girl for who she was. Most importantly I forgot how to love the flaws of human nature, the intricacies of acceptance and the bliss of finding beauty where others do not. \n\n*That's when I met Tim.* \n\nTim had the personality of a Kickstarter business mogul; all the speaking skills necessary to sell you an idea even though it might have been trash. He was a know-it-all, a one-upper, yet despite all of that he became one of my best friends. It was a new year at University and he had moved out of his home state like me. Even better we were from the same state, just different parts. We had a few classes together, so we ended up working together on a lot of projects and even ended up studying together for some tests. When we did study together, it helped him to pretend he was teaching the class. I'm the kind of person that doesn't know what I don't know until it comes up in conversation which was perfect. I'd ask questions that Tim didn't know and we'd learn together. Eventually we'd make trips to the city an hour away from University and try to find new things, having a blast all the way through. We'd people watch, find weird things in weird places, we even came across a fashion show that appeared out of nowhere. Eventually, as we got to know each other, I opened up to him. Told him how I felt like I was missing a piece of myself after almost a year after breaking up with my girlfriend. \n\n\"Man, fuck her.\" he said to me. \"Just fuck her. You don't need her, you never needed her. She's keeping you in the past, you need to be in the here and now. When you look back years from now, you'll always remember not having as much fun as you could have because you were living with regret. You can move on. It's not a race, it'll happen.\" \n\nIt was the best slap to the face I'd ever received. I'll always remember Tim, because he did what time did not; he made me feel relevant in my own life. ",
"\"Blighter! Scoundrel! Ye will pay!\"\n\nTime knew an unhappy customer when he heard one. He ducked behind the counter moments before a burly man stormed into his shop holding a thick slab of granite.\n\n\"Ye don't think I saw ye? Out, knave!\"\n\n\"Ah, good sire - pardon me, I had just dropped these, er, medicinal herbs, guarant'd to heal alle wounds… say, ye wouldn't happen to need any?\" Time tried a smile and he proffered a pair of grubby hands that cupped what appeared to be dried grass.\n\n\"Damn'd is the man who would fool me twice!\" the man cried as he swatted away Time's hand. The grass billowed up in a cloud and settled on Time's unwashed hair. \"Why, only last week I bought some of this from ye, and it didn't worke!\"\n\nTime shook his head and some grass fell to the floor. \"Mustn't've been me, then.\" He brushed the rest of the grass out of his hair, which landed on his shirt, which was actually an old bag for potatoes. \"My herbs work, sure as day. Many folk selling herb nowadays, must be cautious about these things, though I can't fault a mere commoner for not knowin' better, that's what ye come to me for…\"\n\n\"I bought it from a man who looked like ye, and talked like ye, and he had yer name: Time!\"\n\nTime swept his hand over his shirt and the rest of the grass fell to the floor. He bent over and swept it into a pile with his hands.\n\n\"Ah, but I haven't told ye my name… and er, me name's not 'Time'… it's… er… Tim.\"\n\nThe man grunted. \"Tim? Never 'eard a name like that before.\"\n\n\"It's foreign.\"\n\n\"What's foreign? And what about ye signe?\" The man held up the granite slab that he had walked in with. Letters were chiseled onto the front. The burly man concentrated hard as he read aloud: \"Time's Olde Towne Magicke Shoppe: *Time heales alle woundes*\"\n\nTime shrugged. As he was scooping up the fallen herbs, he noticed a few pieces of grass growing out under the side of his shop. He made sure the burly man wasn't looking, then he plucked them and put it on top of the rest of the pile. He stood up.\n\n\"Let me see that.\" He looked at the slab. \"Ah, that's just a typo. Not my slab anyway, 'course,\" he added hurriedly. \"Lots a folk with slabs nowadays, mustn't be too--\"\n\n\"An' what's typo?\"\n\n\"A typographical error. Look, this gr-- this herb's as fresh as it gets--\" Time pulled his hands away quickly, \"ah, I'll just keep them o'er here if yer interested…\" he pushed away a stack of similar granite slabs to make room for the grass.\n\nThe burly man peered at the stack. \"Hmm, well what have we here! Those slabs are the same as mine! So that means… that means…\" He tried to think about what that might mean.\n\n\"So that means I'm right, aye?\" Time suggested.\n\n\"Aye…\" the man said slowly and scratched his head. Feeling like he was losing control of the conversation, the man jabbed a finger into Time's chest menacingly. \"Well, ye had better just fix those slabs… Tim,\" he said. Time gulped.\n\nAs soon as the burly man left, Time started fixing all of the typos in his signs. But this turned out to be too challenging for two reasons. Firstly, he didn't know which words were actually misspelled, and secondly his teeth still hurt too much from chiseling the letters *in* in the first place to think about what it would take to get them back out again. He decided to settled on packing dirt into all of the E's.\n\nWhen he read the signs again, they said:\n\nTim 's Old Town Magick Shopp : *Tim h al s all wound s*\n\nHe regarded his work with satisfaction. After a few moments, he frowned and went back to dig out the first E in \"heale.\" As he was doing that, the part of his brain shared with *rodentia*'s ancestors suggested leaving in one \"Time\" and one \"Tim,\" just to give himself an out no matter who the person that showed up at his door was upset with. Thus read the new sign:\n\nTim 's Old Town Magick Shopp : *Time heal s all wound s*\n\nBy way of mysteries forgotten to time, and honestly not well known even to Time to begin with, he was able to pass the shop down generation after generation, until subsidiaries spread all over the land, and the slogan became so well known that long after the series of shops went out of business, the saying lived on: *Time heals all wounds*",
"What I'm about to tell you isn't some flowery embellished bullshit. It's the honest-to-god truth. So don't discount me when I say that this is the story of the day I died.\n\nIt's a nice day out. Not a cloud in the sky. Totally blue. I'm driving to the pharmacy (ironic, I know) and I try to take a right at the intersection, when some goddamn idiot runs through the red and nearly hits me. That's not the part where I die, but I promise it will be important later.\n\nSo I make it to the pharmacy and go inside, right? There's maybe 10 people, inside, small store, whatever. Shelves full of medicine and the other kinds of shit pharmacies sell. But I was on my way to refill my prescription, so I head up to the counter.\n\nThere's this old lady -- I think she had blond hair, can't really remember -- and she's chewing on some gum. She was just done serving a big African-American woman. I wait for her to step aside and then I ask for my prescription, I tell her my information, normal stuff, right? She yells for this guy in the back to get the meds and he goes off to get it. This dude looks pretty normal, he's got brown hair cut way back showing his forehead. He's wearing a white collared shirt and khakis, I think. Also his nose is super small, but that's not really important.\n\nBefore he can get back with the meds, I hear shouting from right behind me, by the entrance. So I turn around, right, and guess what I see? Same fucking guy who nearly hit me! But get this: he's holding a gun. Pistol I think. Waving it in the air, *screaming* at us to get something.\n\nOld lady at the counter doesn't say anything. She just stands there. I'm getting about ready to try and bolt but this lady is just steely, so I don't move a muscle. Gun guy comes up the counter, pointing at all the customers to get on the ground. They do, but me and old lady are just standing there, doing nothing! I have no fucking idea where dude in white was, but gun guy shoves the pistol in my face telling me to step aside so he can get drugs from the old lady.\n\nI don't move. I'm staring straight at him, so I don't know what the lady was doing, but something set gun guy off, because he just shouts and knocks me in the head with his gun. I fall down, but I'm still conscious. A bit dazed maybe. I'm on my elbows and looking up at gun guy, who's holding the pistol way out in front of him like some sort of lunatic. I guess he was.\n\nFinally, the old lady speaks. I don't remember what gun guy said, but she goes, \"Sir I need you to calm down before I can serve you.\" Like, fucking what? She's held at gunpoint being yelled at to give some psycho drugs and she tells him to calm down? Good thing gun guy doesn't care, and he doesn't shoot her. But then I hear a man's voice. And I just *know* it's the dude in white.\n\nAnd gun guy gets *pissed.*\n\nHe starts shouting like nothing else and waving the gun around. I've recovered my senses at this point, but I don't move because there's a guy with a pistol, right? I'm looking around, and I make eye contact with another customer. It's the African-American woman, crouched down behind a shelf. She gestures to the gun guy and I'm mouthing, \"FUCK NO\". But she insists and her feet start moving.\n\nAt this point it's all or nothing and there's a clear line of communication between me and this other customer. So I just go for it. I jump on gun guy and the lady runs towards him, but he shoots off a few bullets so she stops. Old lady at the counter is still just standing there, and I guess dude in white is there too, but I can't see him on account of me wrestling with gun guy.\n\nHe keeps firing and eventually throws me off him. I can't hear anything because of all the gunshots but even with the adrenaline, I can feel this kinda cold, wet sensation. Everywhere. Gun guy is facing me, and even though I can't hear, I know he's shooting me because of the flashes of the pistol and the faces of the other people.\n\nI fall down and I don't know what happens next because all I can see is the ceiling, but suddenly dude in white is standing over me. I can barely make out his words and I'm too dazed to read his lips. Seems like gun guy is dealt with.\n\nAfter what seems like an hour, I can start to hear again. Dude in white is kneeling over me with his hands on my chest. I can't tell if he's doing CPR because I can't feel anything, but when I lift my head I notice his hands are just held there over my heart. Lifting my head was a bad idea because then I start to feel the pain. Or maybe it was seeing all the blood. Let's just say the floor wasn't red when I came into the pharmacy.\n\nSo dude in white is talking and I start to hear him even though I'm screaming now, out of pain. His voice is kinda soft but firm, you know? Like he's giving me commands. And he's saying, \"Hold still. Lay your head back down. Hold still. Try to keep your breathing steady.\"\n\nI'm trying to sputter out some words, maybe I wanted to ask him something, but I just can't. Gun guy put a bullet in my throat.\n\nI can hear alright now, and things are a tiny bit calmer. I can feel -- which is not a good thing -- but at least I know what he is saying.\n\n\"My name is Tim. I am going to heal you. Hold still. Lay your head back down and relax.\"\n\nI listen and do what he says as much as I can. The ceiling has holes in it and I focus on those holes. There's dust coming down but it doesn't get in my eyes, and the holes get bigger. And brighter. As they get closer -- or maybe I'm getting closer -- they start to turn white, but not just piece-of-paper white. More like, sun-on-a-cloudy-day white. Then Tim enters my vision again and I forget about the holes.\n\nI'm still raised up, and it still feels cold and wet. But Tim doesn't seem worried. I feel like I'm floating, painless. I lift my head and it doesn't hurt, but Tim tries to lay me back down. Before he can, I notice that some guy in a blue uniform is standing at my feet. Except my feet are at the height of his waist, and I'm laying on something. The man in blue is talking to somebody behind me.\n\nThe ceiling starts to move downward. The pharmacy disappears and the threshold vanishes and then I see blue sky. Tim is still running alongside me as I float away from the pharmacy, with his hands on my chest. There isn't any more pain, but I feel sorta numb. The ceiling turns white and there are bright lights. I stop floating and I set down on a bed or something, with Tim and the two guys in blue standing over me.\n\nMy mind is really slow and I can't quite process what's going on, but I start to piece together that I'm in an ambulance. So then I wonder, well why aren't they doing anything? I was just shot a bunch of times, so why aren't they picking out bullets with tweezers or something? Instead they're just talking and occasionally glancing down at me in disbelief. Tim looks alright though, his jaw isn't on the floor.\n\nThis goes on for a few more minutes, but I can't really remember much. Eventually I end up staring at a blank white ceiling with bright lights on it, but I'm not moving like I was in the ambulance. Also, the bed I'm in is comfortable and I feel warm. It smells sterilized and there's a steady beeping to my right.\n\nI try to lift myself up and I do so without resistance. I don't feel any pain but I'm not numb either. I feel fine. And, of course, Tim is sitting in a chair to my left watching me intently. For once he's not saying anything. There's just the beeping, and I can make out some distance voices and movement.\n\nSo I say to him, \"Who are you?\"\n\nHe opens him mouth but his eyes don't change at all. \"I'm Tim.\"\n\n\"You saved me?\"\n\n\"Yes. I said I would.\"\n\nI lay back down, exhaling a sigh. \"Thanks, then.\"\n\nNaturally I can't see Tim's expression but I assume it doesn't change. I look back up and he's still sitting there, staring.\n\n\"Why are you staring at me?\"\n\n\"You aren't going to ask how I saved you?\"\n\n\"Alright, sure. Why'd you save me?\"\n\n\"No, I said 'how'. To answer your question, though, I might say it's my duty as a man of medicine.\"\n\n\"You were at the pharmacy. You were going to get my prescription.\"\n\n\"Yes. Also, don't worry; the doctors know about it and have you set with your medicine.\" Tim looks at his watch and nods. \"In fact, it's right about the time you take them. I'll be going.\"\n\n\"Hey, wait!\"\n\nTim turns around. \"Yes?\"\n\n\"The only medicine I'm getting is my normal prescription?\"\n\n\"Correct.\"\n\n\"Nothing for the bullet wounds?\"\n\n\"What bullet wounds?\"\n\nIn disbelief, I shove away my blankets. My body is totally clean, without a trace of blood or even bandages. The only thing out of place is an IV drip, probably what knocked me out. When I look back up, Tim is just gone. A few moments later, some nurses come in with orange bottles.\n\n\"Time for your meds,\" says one, setting down the pills.\n\n\"Why did you take off your sheets?\" asks the other. \"Are you too warm?\"\n\nI shake my head, still staring in disbelief. I turn to the second nurse, who is tidying up the blankets. \"Who was that man just in here?\"\n\n\"Who? Oh, Tim? He's the man who saved you. You should be very grateful.\"\n\n\"I am, but I don't understand how anyone could be saved from that. I must've been shot like 20 times.\"\n\n\"You were. And you were saved.\"\n\n\"But who *is* he?\"\n\n\"He's Tim.\"\n\n\"Alright, I get that. But how did he heal my wounds?\"\n\n\"Tim heals all wounds.\""
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"1486169991",
"1486191147",
"1486183603",
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[WP] Choose the most boring topic you can think of and make it exciting. | 15 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"Sitting down at my desk, I realise I'm a full five minutes early.\n\n\nUnion Rule #1. Don't work until it's time to work.\n\n\nThrowing the jacket over the chair, I rushed over to the kettle. It was rush hour, and I *had* to beat Edith. Most senior, the eldest woman, the most senile woman you will ever meet that hasn't retired. In fact, the company made an entire plan around getting more \"tenured\" members of staff to leave that solely because of her. She's still here, but not due to lack of effort on the company's part.\n\n\nReaching the kettle, I realise that it's union friday. Half the employees are off on a union training day! Half the office is gone and now I can have morning tea in peace.\n\n\nFilling my cup up quickly, I rush back to work. I have one minute before I start my work. Logging into my workstation, the minute passes and my screen opens up. As my manager walks past, he raises an eyebrow, eyeing the cup of tea with a good morning nod. I am safe.\n\n\nA few clicks here, another few clicks on the screen, a tippity tappity millennial magic works the keyboard, fingers flying across the black Logitech board. The alphabet scattered in an erratic way, but my fingers know the map to Grammar.\n\n\n*File Case AC1101-223-441 - Liability Resolution Action*\n\n\nThis is a sync. Two motor vehicle accident, simple rear end action I'm not giving, I'm slapping a Full Liability on that bad boy.\n\n\n\nThe next one is trickier. Left turn, but the arsehole ran a red? Showing due caution, prudent manner of driving, clean record. I'll give the gal a break, Full Liability to that red runner.\n\n\nThe morning goes quickly with small tasks here and there. Lunch time is nearly arrived, the morning is nearly completed. The day will soon be mine as the Afternoon beast takes the office by forcing a coma on the office. Or half of us that are working.\n\n\nBut then it hits.\n\n\n*Action: Settlement Dispute*\n\n\nMy worst nightmare. Insurance company client is denying liability, potentially going to court. File screams bull on the defendant. Everything on the page says run away.\n\n\nBut I stay.\n\n\nI wade through the crap, I wade through the exaggerated claims, the excuses, the fantastical ideals that the amber light was green then immediately red. But then something comes into my inbox. It's my manager. He wants to review my files.\n\n\nI need to get this done.\n\n\nClicking through documents, I look for every shred of evidence to prove she is in breach of the law, the road rules. Legal documents, expert reports, mechanical estimates, nothing. No collateral, no accepted testimony. The only witness has dementia, his statement is rejected. The attending police officer is away on vacation, no go there. The only hope is the only unread attachment.\n\n\nIt's dashcam video. The light is red.\n\n\nMy fist hits air, but that's all the defendant has. Hot air. We're not paying a *dime*.\n\n\nMy eyes catch the changing of the guard, the moment that the twin 1's go up. It's union lunch time.\n",
"Neurons fire all around the room, as un-static as anything else in the universe. The room both vast beyond comprehension, and an unimportant speck, depending on the perspective you looked at it from. Made up of countless atoms, themselves a dynamic field, made up of electrons orbiting a nucleus, leaving empty space that only offered more questions than it answered. One of many rooms like it in the country, the world, potentially the universe. Small on Earth, which itself is small in the context of the universe. Earth in a solar system, one of many in a galaxy, one of the hundreds of billions of galaxies in the universe, all made up of those atoms, making empty space the obvious design motif in the grand scheme. \n\nThe room uses mathematics, the backbone of the logical universe, as its guide. Math has not been shown to be inconsistent anywhere in the universe, and it wasn't about to be in this room. The numbers an indifferent sideshow, something ever present as you stay stationary in the room, finding your own place in the universe.\n\nYou are not alone in the room. The others are on journeys much like your own, stationary. Walking the line between incomprehensible hugeness and depressing insignificance. Trying to find there place in the room, the universe. Some leave, taken away by happenstance, others find ways to distract themselves, an attractive endeavor. You have nothing to distract yourself with, you are in here, you did not ask to be, you simply are. \n\nThe light is shining on you uncomfortably. You cannot find your place in the room, or the universe. You could move, it is within your motor function to move your legs, but what would that look like? What would others think if you moved closer to them, or farther away? What if nowhere else in the room is any better? So you stay still, comfortable at least in your uncomfortableness. \n\nEventually your number is called, your happenstance has happened. It is time. Your time is up at the department of motor vehicles. "
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1,
5,
8
] | [
"1486176552",
"1486184550",
"1486184054"
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[WP] Finding a spouse is the job of women. And they perform this task as though they are going to war. | 7 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"\"Here you go,\" Axel says before flashing me his thousand-watt braced smile. \n\n\nI reach for my usual caramel frappe and lightly brush my fingers against his. \n\n\n\"Hope you enjoy it.\" \n\n\n\"Always have,\" I reply and return his smile. \n\n\nI seat across the claiming area, not exactly leaving his line of vision. This was how I began my everyday. I would visit this local Starbucks store during mornings, catching Axel on his shift. \n\n\nI always catch him on his shift. \n\n\nI have to. \n\n\nI watch his muscled yet lean figure standing inside the booth. He was tall but he wasn't lanky. I watch his broad shoulders and trace them down to his long and nimble fingers. He was preparing coffee like it was the most easiest thing in the world. \n\n\n\nHe looks up and meets my gaze; he holds it while I fight the urge to surrender to the familiar tug of a smile on my lips. He looks down, continuing what he was doing. \n\n\n\nI smile. \n\n\n\nI momentarily look away, distracted by the sound of chair being scraped against the floor. A woman shares my table and I don't bother telling her off because I knew her too well. \n\n\n\n\"You know you have a deadline right?\" my superior asks.\n\n\n\n\"Yes, it's only a matter of time anyway,\" I reply. \n\n\n\n\"Show me what you've got,\" she taunts as she leans on the table. \n\n\n\nShe once offered my colleague to take over this assignment since I was working too slow. I refused. I wanted this. I wanted Axel. So she gave me deadline or else I was going to be assigned to someone else and I didn't want that. \n\n\n\nI reach into my inner coat pocket to get my weapon. I even winked at the surveillance camera at the corner of the room. I can already feel it. It had pointed edges so if ever I moved hastily I could get cut. \n\n\n\n\"Shit... I got a papercut,\" I curse and proceeded to fully remove my index card from my inner coat pocket. \n\n\n\n\"Let me read,\" she says as she snatches up my weapon from my hands. \n\n\n\nPick-up lines written on an index card was my weapon. It was my specialty. I even had special trainings with a language trainor in the academy before so that I could supposedly sharpen this special skill of mine among others.\n\n\n\nI wasn't like my superior. My superior had already 12 years on the job and she was already reaping the fruits of her labor. She was on the 4th phase: she was pregnant. In about 9 months, she would retire enjoying the 5th and final phase of the job – being a mom. I was only on the 1st phase: getting a boyfriend. \n\n\n\nShe was blessed with all the weapons women could possibly use on men. She has long legs, an ample chest, a toned butt, porcelain skin, and a sultry voice. She even has fast metabolism meaning she couldn't get fat even if she wanted too. She was a natural; whereas I had to exercise to get sexy, had to visit the dermatologist to become flawless, and had to rely on my skills to have a man. \n\n\n\nI was lucky no one else got assigned to Axel or else I would have to eradicate all competition no matter the method. I just had to have him. \n\n\n\n\"These are good, huh. I might even get you as a language coach if we'll have a daughter,\" she jokes and returns the paper. \n\n\nI take deep breaths. \n\n\n\n\"You have 20 minutes to get a date, a month to get a boyfriend,\" she reminds me as I leave the table, weapon in hand. \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n"
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"1486183621",
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[removed] | [WP] You sit in the kitchen with your mother, a decision not yet made weighing heavily on your mind. You have to decide by evening's fall. As if on cue, your mother turns to you and begins to speak. | 2 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\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 be a recipe](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/prompts?src=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=/r/WritingPrompts/comments/5s1se2/wp_you_sit_in_the_kitchen_with_your_mother_a/%0A%0A)",
"\"Glory?\" \n\nThe impertinent word fell from his lips before he could quite hold it back. His mother turned away from the window, every inch the Lady of Mourning. There was a question in a pale eyes, a hard determination to understand. \n\nHe closed his eyes briefly. \n\n\"What would I do with glory?\" He saw the lines tighten around her eyes, \"I've never been your most powerful child. I've never expected to receive acclaim, no, not even when circumstances conspired to grant me a Knighthood despite my many weaknesses.\" \n\nHe looked out across the lands beyond the castle walls. Even from here he could see the dark cloud of smoke rising in the distance, the Dragon's eternal fires polluting the blue skies of the Kingdom. \n\n\"I have no use for glory in battle. I have no use for the honor of continuing the line of this noble family.\" The hilt of his sword creaked in his grip as he watched the swirling smoke. \n\nHe smiled, \"All I have ever wanted to do was throw myself away in a noble fashion- to save just one person.\" \n\nHe turned to face her. Her face was blanched. She seemed to stumble despite the complete lack of animosity in his gaze. \n\n\"I'm a Knight.\" he looked away sheepishly, \"I may be the weakest Knight in the history of forever but I am a Knight. I have a duty. Honour and glory are secondary to that.\" \n\nShe was silent. He turned to head back into the castle. There was a lot of packing he had to do before he left for the front lines. \n\n\"You will still go despite what I have said?\" \n\nHe turned to look at her. \"I'll come back.\" he said finally. \n\nShe turned away, staring out at the verdant fields beyond the castle. \"That is not for you to promise.\" \n\n\"Perhaps not.\" he shrugged, \"But I will still go, yes.\" \n\nShe closed her eyes. He heard her mutter under her breath. His skin tingled as some new magic settled into his armour. \n\n\"Thank you for your blessing.\" \n\nShe didn't reply. He stepped into a shadowed archway of the castle. \n\nA dragon was waiting for him. "
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[WP] Every time you read a book you inherit an ability from one of the characters. But it's random so you could gain qualities from any of the characters including antagonists. | 119 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"A fan of books since childhood, I wasn’t that picky of a reader. All sorts of literature passed through my hands - from cheap romances, to Ian McEwans critically acclaimed novels, to classics like “Crime and Punishment”. And like so many other people, I too identified with the characters, living through their adventures as vividly as they did.\n\nHowever, I used to take it a step further, especially when I was younger. I’d try to make myself more like the characters I liked in the real world too, usually by mimicking their physical appearance, since that was easiest. If a character's braid and ribbons were described in detail, I’d try to wear my hair exactly the same way the next day. If they used pink lipstick, I’d do that too. Wore dresses? My jeans would be exchanged for those in an instant. But it never lasted, though.\n\nMy teenage years were mostly filled with books, and I probably did all this to try to lure adventures and friends to come to me too. When I started forming more meaningful relationships with real people later on, the need to imitate fictional characters stopped. Not my love of books, though. They were now a supplement to my own experiences, not a replacement. That was something I was happy with, until it started happening.\n\nThe “it” I mentioned first happened while reading one of those romance novels where a dark, handsome, quiet man meet a strong and independent woman in some past setting where strong, independent and passionate women weren’t universally liked. He likes her, though, but for the most of the novel nothing happens, though they usually make a pact to marry in order to achieve a mutual goal. That is until a sex scene happens, with that usually being her first time. And so on. Out of all that, I got the hornyness. It literally infected me while reading through the scene, and it stayed with me for days, constantly. Don’t ask how it ended. It was difficult to believe that the book could have had such an effect on me, but that was the only explanation. I still wasn’t sure that the traits and experiences of a character could at all be transferred to me, and I still thought there might be something I was overlooking, but that was soon to change.\n\nI read “The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes” next. That one was amazing - I got his photographic memory. I could learn whatever I wanted in as short a time as needed to read about it. I had always been envious of people with photographic memory who didn’t much need Google to check a fact they’ve already seen so many times before, or to see how words are spelled or look for that synonym they once heard someone use. I thought about never reading another book again, just to keep this ability. I figured if I read something else, I’d get a different ability, but I’d lose this one. It vanished two weeks later, completely on its own. I was devastated, and felt stupid, to say the least. I knew it was all about memory, not intelligence, but it took a while for me to adapt to not having this ability anymore.\n\nI wasn’t sure whether I wanted to experience more of this, or whether I will at all experience it ever again. I decided on a light read while I was still processing what had happened, one I thought couldn’t possibly affect me. Surely it wasn’t possible for me to pick up animal traits. So I started reading “The Hundred and One Dalmatians” by Dodie Smith.\n\nIt seemed to have no effect on me whatsoever. I was well into the book when my cat, Mr. Pawsies, jumped into my living room through the open window.\n\n“Hi, Mr. Pawsies! Long time no see. Come!”\n\nHe jumped right onto my lap, and I started petting him, scratching him behind the ears and on his belly, and he was purring and kneading happily. Then a thought came up.\n\n*Such a fine and soft fur… It would make for a lovely coat. I can already feel it hugging my body, soft and soothing…*\n\nI jumped from the sofa as if a needle was stuck into my behind at that very moment. I grabbed Mr. Pawsies and ran to a neighbour to ask her if she could take care of him for a few days...",
"My name's Judith and I am special.\n\nI know what you think \"oh no... Another special snowflake\", and I know that because I can hear your thoughts, that is what makes me special. Actually, every time I read a book or a comics, I get a special ability of one of the characters, but it is so random that sometimes I don't even realize I acquired the ability.\n\nIt all started a few years ago, I was a big reader back in the days, the least I could read in a month was 2 books, so I'm not sure which book started everything.\n\nThe first ability I discovered I had came from a book called \"gnome of troy\" and unfortunately it was the ability to fart from your ears. That's a rather annoying ability but for my own decency, I won't expand the subject.\n\nI continued to read books though, mostly slice of life ones, so the ability were common and unnoticed. But after a while I tried to read Harry Potter! I was dying of impatience to discover what ability I could gain, and it appeared soon after the reading: I could talk to snakes! Said like that, it's kind of showing off but the reality is boring, because when you live in a big city, you don't see snakes. I could have gained teleportation, mind reading or metamorphosis but no, snake talking, disappointing.\n\nAfter this experience I chose my books with much precaution, reducing the risk of getting an unwanted power. The books became more and more specific, even if the stories were not entertaining.\n\nI gained telepathy from the youth of Jean Grey, I learned hacking from a manga called bloody Monday and a lot more from other books, comics and mangas.\n\nWhy am I telling you that? Well, let's say I am doing the villain's monologue, because, citizens of Earth, from this day and forever, I declare myself your new God and I won't suffer disobeying.\n\nAccept your fate or die. You have 48 hours.",
"They'd gathered for poker in Dave's kitchen, the glow of a steamy summer day dimming to dusk outside. A mild breeze whispered through the screen door, helped along by a small fan that clicked on every second rotation and did nothing to cool the room.\n\n\"Dave, when are you getting your aircon fixed, man?\" Pete stripped off his shirt and used it to wipe his face.\n\n\"Ben said he'd come this morning, but when I rang him he just mumbled something and hung up.\" Dave shrugged, pulling beers from the fridge and handing them around. The pop and hiss of bottle caps was followed by satisfied sighs. \"He's supposed to be here, if Cheryl ever lets him out of the house,\" he continued with a good natured sneer.\n\nThey all laughed, the four of them, with combined derision and amusement. Cheryl's determination to keep Ben under her wifely thumb had long been a source of amusement for his terminally single buddies.\n\nAt that moment a figure loomed at the kitchen door, silhouetted by the porch light. There was a pause, and then a man in jeans and a hoodie, his face concealed, slapped the door open and walked into the kitchen.\n\n\"Ben?\" Sam frowned. \"Dude, what's with the hoodie?\"\n\nA strangely pale hand reached up and slowly drew the hood back.\n\nFour men burst into hysterical laughter.\n\n\"Been playing dress ups, princess?\"\n\n\"Decided to become a stripper now, sweetheart?\"\n\nBen, his face a study in misery, looked at them in desperation. \"How do I get it off?\"\n\nTheir laughter faded as rapidly as it had come. Matt braced his arms on the table, idly shuffling the deck of cards. \"It's just body glitter, mate. Like the strippers wear. Soap should do it.\"\n\n\"You don't understand! I tried it! I tried everything!\"\n\nBen reached over his back and ripped his top completely off. His naked torso was snowy white and seemed to sparkle beneath the kitchen light.\n\nOnce again, hilarity reigned.\n\n\"SHUT UP!\" Ben dropped into his chair at the table, and thumped his fisted hands on the top. \"I can't get it off! I don't even know where it came from!\"\n\n\"Maybe Cheryl found a new way to keep you home,\" offered Pete with a cheeky grin.\n\n\"The body glitter method,\" suggested Dave.\n\n\"I bet she saw it on Oprah,\" added Matt, sniggering into his beer.\n\nBen folded his sparkling arms and dropped his head on to them.\n\n\"Look,\" said Sam, clapping a friendly hand on his shoulder. \"Holy shit, you're like ice!\" He snatched his hand back, then slowly put it back. \"Man, that ain't normal. What were you doing when it happened?\"\n\nBen mumbled something, his ears turning pink.\n\n\"What?\"\n\nBen lifted his head. \"I happened to knock one of Cheryl's books on the floor, and when I picked it up, I read a bit of it. Suddenly.....this happened.\"\n\n\"What book, mate?\"\n\nA deeper shade of pink slid up his neck. \"Twilight.\"\n\nA stunned silence froze the room.\n\n\"Wait, I get it!\" said Matt. \"My sister told me about it! Sparkly vampires!\"\n\nPete peered at Ben closely. \"Vampire?\"\n\nBen shook his head. \"Just cold. And-and sparkles.\"\n\nAnd then the laughter could not be contained. Chairs tipped, tears flowed, and Ben sat miserably as his friends exorcised their amusement.\n\nWhen it began to wind down, Ben sighed and reached for the unopened beer in front of him. Before their fascinated eyes, frost crackled up the glass bottle, the beer began to swell, and in thirty seconds, it exploded in his hand.\n\nDave leaned over and held out his half full bottle. Obligingly, Ben touched the side, then Dave pulled his frosty beer back and took a swig.\n\n\"Ben. Mate. You're about to be a legend.\"\n\n\"Forget the beer, how do I admit to people that I fucking sparkle?\"\n\nSam wrapped a companionable arm around his shoulder, not flinching at the cold this time.\n\n\"Man, I'd be more worried about admitting you read Twilight.\"",
"\"Larry, what the fuck do you mean you're a dragon?\" Reina asked me over the phone. \"Are you high?\"\n\nIf only I was. \"Listen, Reina, just come over! I need your help right NOW!!\" I told her. The last word came out as a roar, fire streaming from my mouth and burning down my precious curtains. \"Reina!\" I shouted into the phone one more time before stamping over it, my claws pressing into my marble floor. \n\nI tried to put out the fire on the curtains by grabbing at them, but all I did was rip out my curtains. The fire spread to my couch and then my rug. With a cry I leaped on to the fire. It didn't hurt me of course, but the sight of watching my rug get seared broke my dragon heart. \n\nI rolled over the fire, extinguishing it along with my precious home decor. Someone would have to pay for this. Anyone. I roared again. And fire streamed out of my mouth. Again. \n\n\"Damnit!\" I shouted, and jumped on the fire before it could get to my plasma screen. The TV stirred in its mount as my gigantic body rolled around on the floor. I watched the TV as it stabilised, breathing a sigh of relief. \n\n\"What the fuck happened?\" Reina asked as she burst through the door. Her jaw dropped as she saw me. \"Holy shit, you're a dragon.\" \n\n\"I told you!\"\n\nEyes wide, she slowly took a seat on my burned couch. \"How?\"\n\n\"I don't know. The last thing I remember was reading *The Hobbit* and then I just turned into *this*.\" I pointed at my scaly red body, my wings flapping up in anger.\n\n\"Can you fly?\" she asked, smiling. \n\n\"Reina, we need to fix me. I want to be human again!\" \n\nShe stood up, gesturing me to lean toward. \"Don't you realise how much money we can make off this? You are the world's first dragon, Larry. People would kill to see you!\" \n\n\"I don't want money. What would I do with it?\" \n\n\"Buy a new home for starters,\" she said, grimacing as she looked around the wreckage.\n\n\"Wait!\" I said, thinking. \"I could buy a new rug! And a new couch!\" \n\n\"Hell yeah you can!\" she chirped. \"Now, let's get the fuck out of here and fly!\" \n\n\"Fuck yeah!\" \n\nShe climbed on my back, holding my neck tightly. \n\n\"Wait, how do we get out?\" I asked. \n\n\"Where's your balcony? We'll have to smash through to fit you in.\"\n\n\"No...not my balcony.\" \n\n\"We will buy you a new one.\"\n\n\"..Fine!\" \n\nI crawled around my house carefully until I made it to the balcony. Reluctantly, I crushed the glass doors and parts of the walls with my invincible claws, and leaped off. My wings caught the wind effortlessly, and Reina and I soared high into the sky. We flew, and we flew, towards a life riddled with gold. \n\n__________________________________________________________________\n\nFree gold if you subscribe to [r/JasonHolloway](https://www.reddit.com/r/JasonHolloway/). I am a ~~liar~~ writer."
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[WP] Since birth, you've had the ability to detect the happiest person in any room, marked by a bright light only visible to you. You are at your grandmother's funeral, and you see an orange glow coming from your grandfather. | 76 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"After the service I went up to him. He was dabbing the tears from his eyes. Or at least that's how it looked from a distance. Upon closer inspection, however, he seemed just to be going through the motions. There were no tears in his eyes, and there was no moisture on his handkerchief. \n\n\"So Gramps,\" I said. \n\n\"Yes, John, my sweet grandson? Thank you for coming. This is a hard day for me especially, but I know it is hard for you too, for everyone. I appreciate your presence here today.\"\n\n\"Right, yes, for sure,\" I said, looking around at the crowd of people confabulating with their heads bowed, in low voices. I wanted to see if the light had transferred to one of them. I looked back at my grandfather. The light still shined through his face. He was definitely the happiest person here. But why?\n\n\"So how are you feeling?\" I asked. \n\n\"Oh fine,\" he said cheerily. Then he backtracked and put on a saddened countenance. \"I mean, I'm trying to deal with it as best as I can. As are we all.\"\n\n\"Right,\" I said. \n\nSomething was up. But how could I get him to spill his secret, and did I even really want to know what it was?\n\nHe put his hand on my shoulder.\n\n\"Things are going to be a lot different now,\" he said absentmindedly. \"For all of us. But especially for your grandmother and I.\"\n\nI looked at him confusedly.\n\n\"I mean,\" he stammered, \"of course it will be different for her. Because she is dead. In heaven it will be much different than here on Earth. As they say, the Kingdom of God is wonderful, and filled with..such sights as...\"\n\nHe trailed off. \n\n\"And what will you do with your time dearest and eldest patriarch of our clan?\" I asked.\n\n\"Hunt ducks,\" he said flatly. \n\n\"Where do you think the dead go?\" I asked him.\n\n\"Heaven,\" he said. He was getting irritated. \n\n\"The heaven of the bible?\"\n\n\"Don't make me take out my belt, boy,\" he said, threateningly. He looked coldly into my eyes. But by the glow of his face I could tell he was still the happiest person in the room. \"This isn't the time to bother your old grandfather about metaphysical questions regarding the Scripture. This is a time to mourn your grandmother, to whom you owe everything.\"\n\n\"Are you in mourning?\" I asked him. \n\n\"You little weasel,\" he said, undoing his belt. \"You little ruffian. Am I in morning? I'll teach you manners.\"\n\n\"Dad!\" shouted my mom, running over. Everyone was watching the geriatric widower tremble and fumble with his belt buckle. \"What's going on?\" she asked. \"Everyone's watching.\"\n\nGrandpa looked up and around at all the people, silent, watching him. He smiled awkwardly and took his hands from his belt.\n\n\"Did you tell them?\" he asked me through the corner of his mouth.\n\n\"Tell them what?\" I said, but cockily, as if I knew exactly what he was talking about.\n\nA dark spot bloomed on his pants. One of the children in the multitude pointed at it and said: \"Look, he peed.\" The whole congregation started laughing at him. The old man looked down at his pants and saw that he had indeed micturated involuntarily. \n\n\"I'll string you up like a rabbit, boy,\" he whispered in my ear. Then he left the room of redoubling, raucous laughter. \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n",
"\"You don't know how much I miss you, Ethel,\" he sighed, his eulogy coming to a close. \"But I know how much pain you were in. I'll miss you, my darling, but I'll be with you soon, and we really will dance among the stars. Have fun up there, and keep my seat warm.\" ",
"\"Grandpa?\" I joined him at the casket and searched his face. He leaned heavily on his cane, but his expression was peaceful and lit from within by the light only I could see: he was the happiest person in the room.\n\n\"Amy, my dear, it's good to see you.\" His eyes left the casket and Grandma's body to cut over to mine. \"You must be wondering why I'm happy.\"\n\nGrandpa knew, of course he knew. When I was little, he had been the first person to believe me when I said what I could see. \"Yeah, I am.\"\n\nHis gaze settled back on Grandma's face, and he leaned both hands on his cane. He sighed. \"I'm glad you were too busy to visit before she died.\" I winced--the guilt had been stinging me since I'd received word. Grandpa smiled sadly at my reaction, his eyes never moving. \"I'm glad,\" he repeated firmly. \"It was awful. Just awful. The pain she was in. She wasn't even my Marigold anymore. She was a wounded animal.\" He lifted a hand to swipe at the tears welling in his eyes. \"No one should have to live in that state, and no one should have to see what she'd become. She wouldn't have wanted you to have that memory, Amy.\"\n\nI stepped closer and hugged him.\n\nHe leaned into me, one wiry arm going around my back. He cleared his throat before he could speak. \"At the end, at the very end, when her body was finally giving up, one of the things it gave up on must have been pain.\" He fell silent, and I could feel his ribs and back moving convulsively. I couldn't tell whether he was laughing or crying. \"She came back to me, Amy. For the last little moment, she was back. She looked right at me and smiled. And then she was gone.\"\n\nHe pushed me to arm's length and locked eyes with me. \"She finally escaped the pain, Amy. And I couldn't be happier.\""
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[WP] In the crowded streets of New York City you slip through groups of people slipping useless junk in their pockets. You are known as the "putpocket." | 12 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"You always had the gift of knowing what people needed at just the right time, like when your mum was looking for her glasses you could put them into her arm's reach or when dad had lost his car keys, you were always stood at the front door with them in your hand grinning.\n\nIt occurred later that, it wasn't normal or *right* to always know this and as you hit the teens you let the talent fade.\n\n\nBut not die.\n\n\nThe woman was pawing through her purse, desperate for some change for the parking meter, knowing that if she got a ticket there was no way in hell she could pay this month.\n\nYou saw this all in a flash as you walked past, you had already put a hand into the pocket of your jeans, already had the coins in there curled up in your palm. Passing like a breeze, the coins slid from the hand into her coat pocket, where in the ladies frantic search, she heard the sound of metal on metal. Looking confused she pulls the coins out and slots them into the meter relieved that at least *something* has gone right today.\n\n\nYou continued walking up the street, it occurred to you that the talent was *right*.\n\n\nAnd you wont let it die. ",
"--note: I kinda spun the prompt + set it in London, but hope it's entertaining nonetheless-- \n\n\n“Any bloke wif’ fingers can slip a cell phone out a man’s trousers, or pinch a purse off the shoulder of a tourist. In’t that right, chaps?” The boss grinned at his accomplices, two thin and scraggly teens, faces smudged in the soot that blankets everything here in the south end of London. They snickered in agreement, looking back at me, clearly sensing my discomfort. \n\n\n“But it takes true skill to put somepin’ in they pockets. Somepin’ that don’t belong there …” his voice trailed off as he rolled up his sleeves and took two steps toward me. \n\n\nI knew what was coming, and glanced around the slap-board shack, towards the wooden table in the corner that was piled with pilfered goods stolen from the gentry of the nearby shopping district: wallets, watches, backpacks, iPhones, purses, even one overly large and luxurious fur coat. The initiation rite of this gang of pickpockets was well-known in the London underground, a task that was specifically designed to get new members caught, to test their resourcefulness and ability to evade the police. I would be asked to place a large, heavy, or misshapen object into a victim’s pocket. \n\n\nI’d heard the object in question was different for every initiate: some were given uncomfortably heavy rocks, others large library books or bags of potting soil. My mate Fin swears he was asked to deposit a two week old infant into the shopping bag of an old lady, but that boy would lie to the pope if it meant he could get another swig of wine at communion. I had my guesses about what they’d ask me to use—my bet was on a candelabra the gang leader kept on the table, a giant silvery piece, practically the size of a small tree, each of its thirty-four delicate branches designed to hold a single candle. It was undoubtedly stolen. \n\n\n“We’ve got a special one for you, don’t we, chaps?” He looked back at the teens, who laughed perfectly on cue, which seemed to please him. “Yes, somepin’ very special.”\n\n\nHe reached into the breast pocket of his dirty vest and pulled something out. Something small. I glanced at the candelabra, and back to the boss.\n\n\n“This righ’ here, this is a deck of cards.” He tossed it to me for my inspection. It was a deck of cards, all right. I looked back at him, quizzically. He grinned and walked me out of shack into the crisp London air. It smelled of rubbish and factory. \n\n\n“You know how politicians always goin’ on ‘bout how this neighbor’ood is gentrifyin’?” he asked, rhetorically, as we paced down the cobblestone streets towards a row of boutique shops and cafes. \n\n\n“Uhhh, yea?” I replied, trying to follow his logic. \n\n\n“Well, wif all the new vegan coffee shops and yoga studios poppin’ up, I’ve been thinkin, been thinkin bout somepin specific for you to do.” We stopped outside a large yoga studio, Moon & Sun, whose front wall featured an enormous window with a view directly into the studio itself. Rows of women in tight yoga pants were twisting in unison to the beat of the instructor, wrapping themselves into poses with varying levels of effort and discomfort, eyes closed, brightly colored rubber mats unfurled like prayer rugs on the bamboo floor. The boss was known for frequenting this corner, for looking into the window longingly at the long legs of the practitioners as they cycled through sun salutations. He pointed to a girl at the back of the class. \n\n\n“That one. That one there—you’re gonna put this deck of cards in ‘er pocket.” \n\n\nI squinted at her. She was tall, blonde ponytail, face puckered into an expression of concentration as she arched her back. She was exactly the sort who you could imagine carrying a Starbucks drink in her right hand, iPhone in the left. Exactly the sort of girl the boss would ogle at in her loose blue top and black nylon yoga pants. Yoga pants. Yoga pants with no pockets. Yoga pants so tight they looked like they had been painted on. It dawned on me. \n\n\n“Boss, she hasn’t got any pockets,” I said, feebly. \n\n\n“I know, boy-o. I know she don’t,” he grinned, following her with his eyes as she whispered namaste in unison with the rest of the class and rolled up her mat. “That’s why this is gonna be entertaining.” I looked down at the deck of cards in my hand, which suddenly felt like the size of a cinder block and the weight of a university textbook. The feet of classgoers leaving the studio crossed my field of vision as I kept my head down, desperately trying to think of a strategy that might not get me arrested. \n\n\n“Don’t let ‘er get away, now,” the boss chided, clapping me on the back with one of his huge, sooty hands. I look up to see the blonde girl striding down the street, yoga mat tied across her back like the millennial-version of a broad sword. I took a deep breath. “She’s not gonna wait for you,”\n\n\nThe two teens snickered in unison as I took off after her, heart in my throat, hand clutching the deck of cards as my feet slapped across the cobble stones. \n"
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[deleted] | [WP] Your Mom and Dad are famous superheroes you however are a normal human being. Describe your average day. | 3 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"\"So...who are you again?\" \n\nThe villain shot him a cold look. He met the glare with his own unimpressed stare. \n\n\"Seriously. You were rambling on and on about some plan to blow up the moon so, hmm, Doctor Mayhem?\" \n\n\"...no.\"\n\nHe squinted, \"Er...that halo...Luna Luminous?\" \n\nThe villain frowned, face turning a brick red. \"Do I even look like a woman to you?\" \n\nHe shrugged delicately- as best he could from his bonds anyway, \"I thought it might be rude to assume-\" \n\n\"It's Ravager, damn you!\" Lightning crackled as the villain's cape flared, dramatically lighting up the deep dark chamber they were in. He nodded slowly. \n\n\"Uh...the one from Dallas or New York?\" \n\n\"There is only one Ravager!\" \n\nHe coughed politely, \"No that's-\" \n\n\"There is only one!\" \n\n\"Right...\" he shifted a bit to make himself more comfortable in the high backed chair he'd been made to sit in. \"You know, with all this lightning you've been making, my mom and dad will be here any minute-\" \n\n\"I have a death ray!\" \n\n\"Everyone seems to have one these days,\" he sighed. There was a great rumble overhead, almost but not quite disguised by the thunder around the villain's sky fortress, \"Well...you were warned...\" \n\n"
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[WP] You become an animator for The Simpsons and you finally find out how they've been predicting everything that's been happening. | 169 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"\"Congrats JERRY!, you passed the last test.\" Matt coughed while smoking his cigar with a smirk on his face. \"You are one of the team now JERRY!, Do you know what that means!? \" Matt screamed while coughing on his cigar. \"We let you in on how things work and you don't tell anyone, by now you have worked out the Stonecutters are the masterminds behind us and FOX, but what you can't work out is how we predict the future well I am going to tell you.\" Matt smirked while pouring a glass of Sad Grand-Dad. \"JERRY! We have an alien that in exchange for a brief part in the Stonecutters episode, he gave us a time machine.\" Matt looked down at his empty glass and poured another drink. \"JERRY! Pay attention the time machine has one turn for every writer, each writer must use his or hers one turn must to come back with an interesting story line based off true events or celebrity dirt so we can get more cameos.\" Matt removed himself with strain from the throne of cartoon families. \"JERRY! Also Itchy and Scratchy are real as well, want to meet them?\"",
"The writers’ room is strictly prohibited, especially for a simple animator like me. I’ve never seen their door open or close; instead they prefer to slide their manuscripts under the gap between the door and floor and let the animators and interns fight over it like rapid animals. Whenever we had questions about scenes or direction of the story, we usually gather around the sacred door and shout our concerns. We see *something* slither behind the frosted glass and deliver a note underneath the door addressing our concerns. Asking too many questions, of course, is grounds for immediate termination. \n\nHours ticked by as I animated a scene of president Trump declare an embargo on the world via Twitter when the entire crew could hear clamoring from behind the writers’ door. Though the odd sound of existential screams and ritualistic chanting weren’t uncommon, most the animators thought nothing of it until the terrible hissing sound began. It pierced our ears with unrelenting force and when we sent Dave, the intern, to door, he reported a strange green glow before being quickly vaporized. \n\nErasing the days since the last intern died while on the front lines of animation, a loud bang burst from the writers’ door as it swung open with unparalleled force. A fine foggy mist infiltrated the office wrapping our lungs with an unnaturally sweet taste. Cautiously, like monkeys approaching the design of some mad experiment, we approached the door. Illuminated by an emerald light from deep within, we cautiously entered the doorway, going where no mere mortal dared to dread. \n\nDesks lined the walls, each with a stone tablet and chisel. Upon further inspection, we noticed some alien cuneiform deeply engraved on the tablets. We advanced further into the room and noticed the writers had their own executive bathrooms, not segregated by gender, but by writing accomplishments. For those who primarily wrote the most episodes, they received bathroom of grandeur, complete with a self-flushing toilets and a blood fountain. For those who wrote the least, they received a much dirtier bathroom with a small alter for animal sacrifices in the corner, much like the bathrooms for the animators. \n\nIn the end of the room, Matt Groening wept into a small reflecting pool. When approached, he did not lash out or eat an intern, as was his usual behavior, but instead accepted our presence. \n\n“I suppose I owe you some explanation,” Matt began. “This is the reflecting pool of time. Through the movements of its waters, time itself flows. By stirring its waters and creating ripples, the producers and writers could shape and warp time and reality itself. Every season, we would gather around the pool and peer into its depths and look at the river of time itself and predict events of the future, yet, when reality bored us with bland satire, we would dip our fingers into the water and change the course of history.”\n\nHe gave us a pitiful look.\n\n“The beings that erupted from this pool made it very clear,” he continued. “We will not interfere with time again.”\n\n*****\n\nMore stories at r/Andrew__Wells",
"Before we begin, I already know you're going to look at this note as if I'm insane. As if there is no possible way that any of this could be true. You'll crumble up the paper into a ball, aim for the wastebasket to your left, and miss. There was a reason you rode the bench while playing on your middle school basketball team.\n\nThe first day of my job as an animator for The Simpsons was pretty straight forward. I filled out a bunch of paperwork, a tradition at any new gig, was given a tour, went out to lunch with my boss and coworkers, and was given my own desk and station to work from. I even had a nice window overlooking a few buildings in the lot next to ours.\n\nAs the afternoon continued to pass, I noticed I had not been given any work yet. I found that strange. Normally by now, I'd be sitting in on storyboard sessions, working with the writers or at least doing some menial grunt work until they can fit me into the standard rotation.\n\nA knocking sound woke me from my wondering and there stood my boss, Joe. Joe was an interesting guy, who was well spoken at lunch, but within the studio, seemed uneasy at all times. He's probably burned out all the time from the weekly deadlines they have to hit for each episode. I would be after being here as long as he has.\n\n\"Nick, let's talk about the next episode you'll be working on,\" he said. His brow was furrowed in concentration; as if he was trying to carefully pick the next few words out of a pile that could collapse upon itself. \n\n\"That would be great! I'm happy to get started right away,\" I replied. I'd like you to mark this as the point in which my happiness would show itself for the last time in this building. I just didn't know it yet.\n\nJoe motioned me to follow him and so I did, walking through the hallways, dimly lit above as each station's work lamps glowed softly in my peripheral. We arrived at a door that was marked with a plaque reading \"Watch your head.\" Joe opened the door and moved slowly inside, though he did not duck. There was nothing to duck under, as I soon saw. Joe went deeper into the room, still mostly dark, and then the room lit up as he pulled on an overhead chain lighting up a single exposed bulb overhead.\n\n\"Come in, Nick. Watch your head.\"\n\nI came in and looked around. There was a single leather chair in the corner, and a few machines were hooked up on a nearby table with microphones, speakers, and more buttons and dials than I cared to pay attention to at the time.\n\nI confusingly looked around and replied, \"Is this some kind of special recording studio you guys use?\"\n\nJoe shook his head, shut the door and replied somberly.\n\n\"Sit down, Nick. Watch your head.\"\n\nI felt a sudden unease. I don't know what it was, but something felt... *strange* about this room. The chair, in particular, was a curious item in itself, and I both wanted to sit and instinctually felt it was a terrible notion.\n\nI swallowed my fear and sat down. The weight of my body felt heavier than normal. The bulb seemed to burn brighter as I got closer to the chair, but surely that was just it warming up, I thought. I didn't notice it at the time, but I can tell you now with certainty that as my ass hit that chair, the machines started recording.\n\nJoe took off his thick-rimmed glasses, rubbed his balding scalp with his spare hand, and let out a breath. \n\n\"Nick,\" he started, \"What are the news stories for next year?\"\n\nI replied like my smart-ass self thought I should. \"I'm not an Amazon Echo, sir, I have no id-\"\n\nA flood of images rushed into my brain. I felt my being lift out of my body. I looked straight down at my body, still sitting in the chair, and my head, now shaking violently while rotating in circles. I was yelling out all the things my spirit was seeing, like some kind of awful song that only the damned would sing. This was the most unnerving thing I had ever seen, and as I watched, the images became clear. I saw headlines and newspapers, articles wrote themselves to my memory. I was reading from papers around the world, seeing movies from the latest theater showings and hearing songs from the radio. \n\n\"Concentrate on next year this time, don't wander,\" I heard Joe say. I noticed that the bulb was now pulsing with brightness, Joe was staring at the ground to avoid looking at my body's unnatural movements.\n\nI took all of this information in, and as I started to feel my being learn more than what was asked, I was suddenly sitting back in the chair, staring at the inside of this bleak room. The bulb was steady, the machines were off and Joe was cleaning his glasses.\n\n\"Go back to your desk, Nick,\" Joe exhaled. \"Rest up, the last animator only made it three weeks before going insane.\"\n\nI sat at my desk for three hours. No one came by to check on me. As best I could tell they didn't need anyone to. The chair turned you into some form of omniscient medium from which a question could derive an answer, the machines recorded it all and the people here never asked any questions out of fear of coming off as loons. I waited until everyone was gone before I started to leave. \n\nAs I walked down the hall, I realized the room was in front of me. It didn't sit still. It waited for me. I wanted to know more. I checked for onlookers and entered.\n\nWhat I saw there has left me cold. I have seen things that were never meant to be viewed again. I have come to understand the inner workings of the world, along with all those who inhabit it. It is my fear that I cannot change any of what I know to be coming. I loathe that I can only watch the past repeat itself and never interfere.\n\nSo please, reader of this letter. If nothing else, find a way to burn down the building where I work. Burn it to the ground. That chair and that room must be torn asunder so that no one suffers the fate that I have found myself a part of. I beg of you, please.\n\nAt the very least, aim a little farther to the right on your toss. Six feet is a long shot with your limited skill set and you've always missed left."
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[WP] Write a story about a disapeared key. It can be any type of key, but its disparition has not gone without consequences. | 4 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"Night two of basslights and all through the lot, creatures were stirring, and the tracks were hot. Nectar opened and got the place live, then Pretty Lights closed with a hyperspace jive. All was well, the after party raged, bodies rose in a swell, when quiet went the stage.\n\nTwo days of turnt bass heavy energy had washed our physical forms dirty, our spirits clean. In the hour which we now live, my new friends and I are by the car, carrying suitcase and backpack to tomorrow's next great adventure. Homeward bound and back to reality. \n\nAs Nick approaches the car, unlocks it and pops the trunk, we are all a twitter with psychoactively prompted jibber-jabber about the preceding performances. Sarah talks about wild-style and butterfly, and I am all spun. Loading altogether our bagged lives, we think nothing of the slight Virginia chill. It's unseasonably warm for December, but my only socked feet bite with rising pain. This can happen with a fried brain high on everything and music. \n\nWe are about to leave the car and continue to cozza frenzy, when Nick's breathing face appears quite wide-eyed with concern. \"Sarah, I'm so sorry,\" he really appears to be so sorry, but why?\n\n\"You okay?\" she asks. \n\n\"Your key,\" he begins, his face contorted with hurt, \"It broke off in the door.\"\n\n\"Shit,\" but realizing the torment of failure Nick is facing within his own mind, \"No it's okay, don't worry I have triple A,\" when in reality this is more simple than it appears. See Nick was unable to lock the car, and it is clear to me post-haze that his concern was with leaving the luggage unattended. \n\n\"Okay... Damnit I feel really bad,\" he really did. He's looking on the verge of tears.\n\n\"No, don't, it's not your fault,\" She implores. This continues for maybe five cycles, as do many thought loops. It is quite an agony for the spectator, especially when his feet are searing with winter's cold burn. \n\n\"Aha,\" came the aha moment, \"Sarah, do you have a spare key?\" I don't know if she does, but the infinity of apology and differed blame on the nature of the indeterminate grind me down to a nub of ingenuity. \n\n\"Ohhh shit! I DO!\" Ecstasy, a lifted heart, the promise of feet to be warm yet again. She hops to, and sifts through her car's crevices to come out with metal unlocker clenched in fingers one two and thumb. \n\nNick's relief snaps him clear of the cyclical cyclone, and off we go to post bass bohemia. ",
"It was a day when a sorrow and despair were born because of the great laziness that lies deep in human nature itself. It happened suddenly and was a total disaster. That day millions of people lost their skills they had possessed, their jobs, hobbies and interests in life. Even more people lost the most efficient means of education, which started the worldwide cultural decline. Such a simple and replaceable tool, yet only the true masters were able to overcome this loss. \n\nThat day humanity lost the key of C.\n\nScientists still can't explain this phenomenon. When someone tries to touch white keys on piano keyboard, in such a way that the combination of them forms a musical composition in C key, ugly extraterrestrial sounds arise. Whether it's a friend who wants to sing the Happy Birthday song or a mother who tries to sing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star to her baby, when they open their mouths wild inhuman cries and moans cripple the souls of their relatives. There are new trends in music industry, some people adapted and finally started writing songs in different keys. But we are not ready for the next wave, we can not afford to lose G, E and other popular keys.\n\nP.S. My first attempt to write a prompt, sorry for my english"
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[WP] Anything that reveals the story to come full circle at the end. | 3 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"John opens the door and steps back into the room.\n\n\"See, it isn't working properly\" he says.\n\n\"Hmm, you're right.\" John and I are stood in front of his time machine; he insists something is wrong. It looks fine to me, but what do I know, it's not my area of expertise. I tell him what I think: \"The calibrations are off, I think.\"\n\nJohn looks at me puzzled.\n\n\"You don't what calibrations are, do you?\"\n\nI don’t.\n\n\"Yeah, they're… they're… these bits.\" I say, pointing to something on John's work-top that appeared to be connected to the time machine, \"these are the calibrations. Well, you know what I mean, I'm not an idiot, I mean this is the machine that makes the calibrations for us.\"\n\n\"That's a toaster, Geoff. It makes toast for us.\"\n\nHmmm… swing and a miss.\n\n\"Well in that case I don’t know, John. I'm not sure why you even invited me here; you know I don't know anything about this stuff. I work in insurance!\"\n\n\"Exactly, Geoff, time-travel insurance. Think it through mate. It's not taking me to the right point in time, it's slightly off. Do you think I could have a claim?\"\n\n\"Well, you need to find out what's wrong with it first. Try it again.\"\n\nJohn steps into the time machine. Shaped like a toilet at a festival, only gleaming metal rather than mud-soaked plastic, it has all the proper registration numbers and safety features embossed on the outside. It really is a decent piece of kit. Weirdly, despite talking about them all day at work, it had been years since I’d actually seen one – they were quite impressive, when they worked.\n\nThe machine buzzes into life, the clichéd Tesla-style electric balls start fizzing and whirring on the top. I may not know much about how these things work, but I did know that those swirling balls of purple electricity are unnecessary. The salesman had seen John coming a mile off. Although, he did run a time machine dealership…So he probably saw most people coming.\n\nA flash, a bang, and John is gone. \n\nJohn opens the door and steps back into the room. \n\n\"See, it isn't working properly\" says John.\n\nAnother John opens the door and steps back into the room. \n\n\"See, it isn't working properly\" says Another John.\n\nAh, shit. There goes his claim.\n"
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[WP] Time really does go by faster when you're having fun. As a result, all fun is strictly regulated. You're the fun police. | 75 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"I hated my job. My life depended on it. \n\nOnce, I caught a pair of toddlers prancing about with a toy airplane. Someone had called the laughter hotline to leave an anonymous tip . I was in Hyde park in a blurry instant.\n\nOne moment they were giggling pre-preschoolers, the next they were slack jawed teenagers witnessing a grown man practice his MMA striking (MMA fighters aren't granted police batons, nor are they on fight cards with toy planes, I realize this, but you work with what's given). \n\nI shook the broken cockpit before their zit-covered faces. \n\n\"Was this worth your childhood?\" I asked.\n\nJust a pair of blinking eyeballs (and teenage angst). \n\nLord how I would have liked to smack some sense into them. A smooth legsweep transitioned into a steady rain of hammerfists, just to let that life lesson sink in (I'd mastered the moves just the week prior). \n\nDr. Zenwe had said my heart couldn't take too many more fast-forwards though, and just then I noticed a new liver spot on my forearm. \n\nAt our home, we ate canned spinach lest our tastebuds sing too loudly and we suddenly found ourselves having a decent time. Gretchen inspected the new wrinkles on my hands. \n\n\"Perhaps we shouldn't watch that British documentary tonight,\" she said. \"I think you half-enjoy the accents.\"\n\nI loved her for that worry laced behind her eyes. She was the most boring women I'd ever met, and together we maintained a house of spotless passive aggressiveness (picture the 'fun' equivalent to a slug crawling across an endless salt pan).\n\nLater, we watched CSPAN, and I imagined stuffy congressmen duking it out in the octagon. \n\n*What a strike*, I thought, picturing the bald guy with the jowels roundhouse the hotshot behind the podium, effectively ending the filibuster. \n\n*He rocked 'em!*\n\nThe picture on the screen began to move a bit faster, and Gretchen shot me that look.\n\n\"You've got such an elaborate imagination,\" she said. \n\nAnd then, when the picture continued to speed:\n\n\"I swear to god Allen.\"\n\nBefore bed we made love without making eye contact. Despite my best efforts, it still felt pretty damn good. I lied and said I had to pee so I could catch my breath in the bathroom mirror. What a cruel joke, universe! Forcing a time-bound species to procreate (sometimes I wish I had ED). I returned to bed determined to see the worst in life.\n\nAt the precinct, Mathison assigned me to the mall for a week amid rumors that some vagabond mime planned a terrorist attack. I bought some Panda Express and remained vigilant. \n\nOld lady pushing crying stroller-baby: all good. \n\nYoung teen on awkward date: fine\n\nHomeless man picking nose to disgust of bystanders: check. \n\nThen, there it was. I could hardly believe my eyes--the brazen nerve! An entertainer here in our mall! It was absolutely despicable. The mime strolled in willy-nilly, nary a concern for the well being of innocent onlookers or surprisingly aged police officers. He began performing (trapped in a box, pull on invisi-rope, all the standard stuff) before I could stand and shout *be gone you filthy anarchist!*\n\nI dashed through the growing crowd, shoving giggle-stifled faces aside, and to my horror I felt that tingling ebb of time beginning to quicken its pace. \n\n\"I'll show you a performance, you damned gypsy!\" I shrieked, and leaped towards the painted terrorist. \n\nMy fists flew relentlessly raining hellfire from every direction. I jabbed him, one-two, and then slugged him with an uppercut (I threw in an elbow for good measure!). \n\nSoon, I had him on the ground, and the crowd backed up in x2 speed as I went for the arm bar submission. Their blurry faces were wide eyed in amazement. \nI pulled back on the mime's arm even harder and he groaned beneath me.\n\n\"Submit!\" I laughed, but my voice was lost in the blur. \n\nMy heart gave this little flutter in my chest, and I kneed him weakly in the liver.\n\n\"Submit!\" I ordered once more. \"The fun has to stop here!\" \n\nI rifled through my remaining repertoire of MMA moves. *Time to pull out all the stops*, I happily concluded.\n\nThere was no more time left to lose. "
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Is it obvious? Subtle? Is he actually one or are you just hallucinating? What is he/she planning to do? So many questions!
(alternatively, you can just ignore this and start writing)
Have fun! | [WP] You suspect that the person in front of you is a terrorist. | 2 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"He *looked* like a terrorist.\n\nIt's my job to find this guy, right? I was doing the job, that's it. And of course they didn't give me a full description! If I had that my job would be a whole lot easier, now wouldn't it?\n\nWe're on the train like my briefing says he's going to be. He's in the car that the briefing says he's going to be on. Is it my fault that he looks like half of the people in there? Again, shitty description. But my people must have had some idea this might happen, because there's a code phrase. I go up to the guy and ask \"Is that seat taken?\"\n\nNo, that's not the code phrase, that'd be a terrible code phrase for a train, come on! He had a seat open!\n\nNo, once I sit down, I ask him, \"Do you have yesterday's newspaper?\" That's the code phrase. It's a reasonable question so if someone overhears it they don't get too suspicious, but it's rare enough that random people aren't going to ask.\n\nAnd he says: \"I do not, but the next stop should.\"\n\nObviously just saying 'no' isn't the counterphrase because who's going to have a copy of yesterday's paper? Everyone would say no to that. It's the 'next stop' thing. The man's supposed to say no but then, according to the briefing, he'll point me to where the rest of the cell is meeting.\n\nI should have known then that something was wrong, because the next stop was a good two or three stops away from the target, but I figure maybe the meeting's just trying to establish distance. Not operating right in the backyard, you know? So I go along with it.\n\nAnd you know the rest, don't you? You and the rest of the task force were waiting for me there, clap me in irons before I can even say a word. If you were smart, you'd have waited until I met up with the rest of my cell, got us all.\n\nMe, I don't know anything. Hell, I just told you everything I knew. I got the orders to join my cell in a blank manilla envelope dropped off by who-knows-who. I know the target's in Manhattan somewhere, but that doesn't really narrow it down. I didn't even recognize my contact, got your undercover man instead.\n\nThat's it. That's everything.\n\nI'd ask \"am I free to go?\" but I think we both know the answer to that one."
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1,
1
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"1486475840",
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[WP] Despite your best efforts, you cannot save the ones you love. | 5 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"\"Don't move, or I'll shoot!\"\n\nThe man stood in front of the wreckage along the bridge, cars piled up behind him. \"Please...\" I begged. \"Just let her go...\"\n\n\"Not until I have my money!\" the man seethed, his voice hissed through his teeth with his jaw clenched shut.\n\n\"I don't...I don't have any...I'll get it...just please...\"\n\n\"Daddy!\" the small voice called out from the edge.\n\nI glanced over to see no one there, but recognized the sound of the voice of my little girl. \"Please...my daughter...\"\n\n\"Don't move!\" he shouted again, pressing the nozzle of the gun harder to my older girl's temple, as the policeman pointed his gun at him. \n\n\"Daddy!\" \n\n\"I...I gotta...\" I took a step, and the shot rang out, as she crumpled to the floor. \n\nA sound barely left my mouth before another shot rang out, striking me in the shoulder. Another shot quickly followed, as the man collapsed on the floor along with me. \n\n\"Anna!\" I shouted, the pain not getting to me yet.\n\n\"Daddy! Help me!\"\n\nI turned myself over, scrambling on all fours to get to the edge. She was barely there, her hands slipping every moment from the sweat gathered under her palms.\n\n\"Anna!\"\n\nI reached my arm, and our fingertips touched.\n\nBut she let go.\n"
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1,
3
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"1486505257",
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[WP] Every time your walk into a room, your theme song blasts out in full volume. | 3 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"Angela sat at the table in the corner, avoiding the stares from the other patrons. She was convinced that no-one had a worse theme than she did. Whereas most people had some sort of instrumental or a classical tune, Angela had something...niche. Something that made it difficult to find someone. Her only defense from people gawking at her while they cover their ears was to hide away - an unfortunate circumstance to one who was naturally timid in the first place.\n\nShe looked at her phone and checked the details on the web page. A week ago she signed up for a blind dating website that specialized in matching people with unfortunate themes. \n\nIt was six o'clock. She looked around; there were only five other patrons. Notably, an older couple that wouldn't stop staring at her with disapproving scowls.\n\nA handsome man walked through the door and the sound of smooth jazz filled the diner. His was smiling and confident, she could tell that he liked the way his theme affected people - definitely not the one she was looking for.\n\nWith a great sigh, Angela leaned back in her seat and looked out her window. Outside was a man jogging from his nice car towards the diner. He too was handsome with rugged, masculine features. He had the body of a heavy-weight boxer, tall, dark-skinned, and muscular. Angela thought he was quite the looker. \n\nWhen the man got to the doors, he placed his hand on the handles, cracked the doors open just slightly, and back away. Angela watched with a puzzled face as one of the strongest looking men she'd ever seen pace back-and-forth before opening a door. What theme could a man that looked like he could beat a Sherman tank in a wrestling match have that would make him too afraid to open a door?\n\nFinally, he entered. Angela watched with a puzzled face as the doors slowly closed behind the man. He cringed the moment the door shut behind him.\n\nMORE THAN A WOMAAN!\nMORE THAN A WOMAN TO MEEEE!\nMORE THAN A WOMAAN!\nMORE THAN A WOMAN TO MEEEE!\n\nThe old couple started to chuckle. Some other patron spit out their water. Even the cook smirked as he flipped burgers. The man at the door was visibly embarrassed.\n\nNevertheless, Angela liked the Bee Gees. Disco was her thing, funnily enough. She waved at the man with the friendliest face she could muster. He smiled back, walked over, and took his seat.\n\nCarl was his name, and he was a gentle giant, beefed up to the shape of a monster truck as his only defense from having a horrible theme.\n\nAfter introducing themselves, eating, laughing and joking, talking about everything from movies to books, they landed on the subject that all conversations lead to: music. The same music that controls all life.\n\n\"You know,\" Angela started, her face still grinning from a joke Carl said. \"I hope you don't think I'm being manipulative when I honestly say that I love Disco.\"\n\n\"Ha, to tell you the truth I'm not a Disco person to begin with. That said, I wish I had a different song. Or hell, a different part of the song I've got. But nope, had to be that particular chorus of that particular song. I've got different tastes, the total opposite of Disco, really\"\n\n\"Oh, and what's that?\"\n\n\"Metal, mostly.\"\n\nAngela's eyes, for a brief moment, swept suspiciously to the corner of the room. He looked at her face, perked with curiousity. He hadn't yet heard Angela's theme. Though, he already knew that he liked her no matter what it could be.\n\nCarl covered the bill and left a tip on the table. Together, they walked towards the door already close enough to be hand in hand.\n\n\"I can go first if you like, I'm used to taking the blunt of the jokes.\" Carl said.\n\n\"Thankyou, but it's okay.\"\n\nAngela took a big gulp and walked through the door. Immediately, as if the whole town was being attacked by a swarm of buzzsaw-wielding bees, one of the blackest, brutalist, black metal songs to ever unfurl from the croaking howls of man erupted into the air. A passerby jumped in shock, a baby started crying, a man inadvertently stepped on the gas and ran over a fire hydrant, there was a panic as people were convinced a gate to hell had opened up behind them. \n\n\nAngela turned away from the carnage and faced Carl. \n\n\"I hope it doesn't bother you...Like it does most people.\"\n\nCarl smiled. \"You are perfect.\"\n\nLaughing, hand in hand, they strolled down the street. Bathory and Bee Gees blaring loud and clear for all to hear. \n\n\n\n\n\n \n\n\n\n\n\n",
"\"HERE'S DAVE!\" a disembodied voice shouted over a mish-mash of guitar and synthesizer.\n\nDavid Lynn sulked into the office break room, wincing at the shrieking 80's rock that followed him everywhere. David sighed a sense of relief when he noticed a full pot of coffee and no coworkers hovering around it. *If I'm quick, I can grab a cup and get out of here before the solo is over,* David thought optimistically.\n\nDavid moved swiftly to the cabinet, only to find his mug was sitting soiled in the sink. Someone, probably Rob, made hot chocolate in it and forgot to let it soak over the weekend. David didn't have time to rectify the problem if he were to make it out before the drums kicked in. He swallowed his environmental concerns and opted to grab a disposable cup, promising himself that he'd find a way to off set the impact of his choice.\n\nNow, with coffee in cup, David rushed to add a bit of creamer to his beverage. *Oh for pete's sake...* he thought as he found the container having too little to properly flavor his drink, but too little to throw away. He debated it for a moment, but ultimately decided having a black coffee was worth not forcing his curse on anyone else on a Monday morning.\n\nHis hesitation came at a price. \"Is that David?\" a familiar voice called out from the hallway. It was Becky from HR, who was way too much of a morning person and just loved to talk about how she was into \"retro\" music. David was at the door when she walked in, nearly colliding with the HR generalist in the process. Unfortunately, he spilled some coffee on the ground.\n\n\"Good morning, David!\" Becky said from behind a wide smile. \"Looks like someone's having a case of the Mondays!\"\n\nThe drums kicked in. David didn't have much time before the lyrics kicked in.\n\nDavid rushed to clean his mess, adroitly making small talk about his weekend in the process. He was in good shape, until he noticed that the waste basket didn't have a liner. Becky was pouring herself a cup of joe, tapping her fingers along to the rhythm of the song. David said a quick apology to himself and tossed the paper towels in the waste basket.\n\n\"DAVE'S A TOTALLY RAD KINDA DUDE! HE WON'T PUT UP WITH ANYONE RUDE!\"\n\nDavid groaned. Becky sang along.\n\nThe second solo started, but it was only a short reprieve. David started to make his way out of the break room, when Becky pointed out that his shoe had become untied. \"Safety first!\" she gently chided the accounting clerk. David leaned down to tie the laces, hoping he'd make it out before...\n\n\"DAVE'S NEVER LOST HIS COOL, ALWAYS THE FIRST ONE AT SCHOOL!\"\n\nDavid wasn't going to double knot it just now.\n\n\"DAVE KNOWS HOW TO JUST SAY NO! HE LIKES TO PLAY IN THE SNOW!\"\n\nMore voices could be heard approaching the break room. David rushed out of the room and into the hallway. Standing in front of him was Dennis, who had bullied him in high school and who was now David's immediate supervisor. Maybe he could sneak away and salvage a few minutes of his morning?\n\n\"HERE'S DAVE!\""
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[wp] Death himself is dying, and you are his reaper. | 9 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"\"So, uh...\" I pushed my hood back, running a hand through my hair. \"Is this, like, a Santa Clause situation?\"\n\nDeath glanced at me from its bed, raising an eyebrow. \"Santa Claus? The children's story?\"\n\n\"No, no it's -- maybe you haven't seen the movie. I guess you're pretty busy. *Were* pretty busy. I guess I'm just... am I going to be Death now? Is this my job? And who was that guy who brought me here?\"\n\nDeath shook its head, waving a skeletal hand. \"That's Dennis. He's going to take over for me, but we needed a third party to take me because in the bylaws it states -- you know what, it's complicated. Bureaucratic stuff. Don't worry about it, you can go back to whatever you were doing before as soon as I bite it.\"\n\n\"Oh.\" I sat on the edge of the bed, relieved. \"Cool. Because I watched Dead Like Me and all that, but I just don't really think I want this to be my life's calling. Plus I don't want to have to die in order to do it.\n\n...Cool cloak, though.\"\n\n\"You're going to have to give that back afterward. We don't really have a lot of them, it's sort of a one-to-wear-while-you-wash-the-other deal.\"\n\n\"Oh, yeah, of course.\" I looked down at my hands in my lap, unsure of what to do next. \"Do you want some tea or something? Soup? I could--\"\n\nDeath interrupted me, clearly growing irritated. \"Just wait a few minutes and it'll be over. Go get the scythe.\"\n\nI jumped up and walked over to where I'd left the weathered tool leaning against the doorframe. Death watched. \"You remember how to do it?\" I nodded.\n\n\"Good.\" It closed its eyes, motioning me over. \"I think I'm ready. Go ahead.\" \n\nI cleared my throat. \"Death, fear not. I come this day to--\"\n\n\"Howard.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"Howard is my name. Death is sort of... a title? Use the name Howard.\"\n\nI nodded and started over. \"Um. Howard. Fear not. I come this day to reap thy soul, seasoned upon this earth, and deliver it unto thy maker where it shall rest for all eternity in peace.\"\n\nDeath nodded. \"Good. And then?\"\n\nI gestured with the scythe and my eyes widened at the glowing portal that appeared before me. \"Whoa. Okay. Ready?\" I extended a hand. Death, beginning to glow itself, stood and grasped it -- its hand was oddly warm. \"Thank you,\" it said. \"I'll go myself. You're a mortal, you can't walk me through.\" \n\nIt stepped through the portal, and just like that, the room was empty. No portal. No Death. No glow. I sat back down on the bed, then heard footsteps in the hall. Dennis appeared in the door. \"All done? I can drive you home now.\"\n\n\"Yeah, thanks... hey Dennis?\"\n\n\"Yes?\"\n\n\"Death is weird.\"\n\n\"You're telling me, buddy. Get your coat.\"\n",
"    “*I don't understand,*” said a very pallid brown-haired youth. He was feebly clutching his chest as he stared into the startling emerald eyes of the flaxen-haired lad on whose lap his head rest. They were together atop a grassy knoll underneath the shade of an elderly, twisted tree as the wind blew the dancing flower heads to and fro.\n\n    “Everyone dies,” said the flaxen-haired boy, brushing some brunette hair out of the other's face. “Even you.”\n\n    “*But I am DEATH.*” Stars flared and faded in his eyes as he spoke. A coughing fit wracked his slender form. For a moment, the blonde was worried Death might fall apart from the shaking, but it subsided.\n\n    Tenderness filled the blonde's eyes. “You are a death.” He corrected gently. “There was one before you and there will be another after.” He shifted until Death's head fell more comfortably on his thigh. A moment of silence passed as he let his words sink in. “You have done so much, reaper-man; you have carried such a large burden.” He lifted one of Death's frail hands into his own. “Lay it down. Rest. You have earned it.”\n\n    Feeble protestations met his words. “Don't fret, dear Death; your charge will be well cared for. You have no need to fear.” Gently he stroked down Death's fevered face with the back of his hand. “Sleep now.”\n\n    Death's eyes, which had been struggling to stay open, relaxed and closed. Weakly he asked, “*What happens when I die?*” His voice was barely a croak.\n\n    Light, pure laughter emanated from the golden-haired youth and danced in the air. “How many have asked you that question? You, too, must wait and see.”\n\n    Death laughed a deep, rich laugh that quickly dissolved into a coughing fit. That was only fair, he supposed.\n\n    No.\n\n    Death's eyes snapped open. “*No.*” Galaxies burst into life behind his irises. He waved his gaunt fingers and wrapped them around the materializing shaft of his sickle. A quick, sharp, practiced movement lodged the ethereal blade in the eyes of his comforter.\n\n    Death stood up, not looking back at what he'd done, refusing to consider the implications. “*Death cannot die. I* AM *Death.*”\n\n    The wind blew and the sun shined with renewed vigor. Life was all the brighter with the contrast of death. When he left, the colors became more muted; they no longer had to declare so loudly that they are alive.\n\n    With a sigh, the blonde-haired boy slid the blade of the sickle gently out of his face. It came out clean, no blood staining the shimmering metal, and no mark staining the pale skin. He weighed the instrument, the classic symbol of death, in his hands as he thought. With a chuckle he tossed it into the verdant grass beside him.\n\n    “Finally, a death who is alive.”",
"I take the scythe in my hand and approached the hooded figure,\nAlas the tables have turned though the stakes never bigger,\nOh and behold this life may end and death cease to linger,\nI remove the hood and freeze, as my face doth shine a mirror"
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1,
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3,
5
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"1486542768",
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[WP] You've been forced to suppress your superpower since birth out of fear. On your 21st, you decide you've had enough and seek revenge on all of humanity. The problem is your superpower is a little... Lame. | 150 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"\"Gina, you're too funny...\" My girlfriend leaned against my arm.\n\nI caressed Jessie's long, raven hair lovingly. Jessie wanted to go out for my 21st birthday. Well \"going out\" in our small town meant going to the Mexican restaurant. Then, since I was turning 21, we could hit one of two bars.\n\nWe were already a couple drinks in. We were enjoying ourselves. We chatted about everything, our jobs, her folks, etc. Even caught up with a couple of our more accepting classmates. We were the only lesbian couple in town. And least the only one that was publicly \"out.\"\n\nIt was turning to be a good night, we even kissed a few times. It got to the point where it was obvious that Jessie wanted to dance on the small dance floor to the tunes she played on the juke box. She tugged my arm several times.\n\nDrinks must have gotten the better of me because I finally submitted and allowed myself to be dragged onto the floor with my cocktail in my hand. \n\nUnfortunately, the drunken tug-game caused me to careen into another woman on the floor, and I spilled my beverage on her. Things only got worse when I realized it was Lindsay Schultz. My school nemesis. \n\nYou how girls just instinctively hate other girls? That was our relationship, kindergarten until we graduated.\n\n\"Watch it you fucking dyke.\" She sneered, she clearly hadn’t forgotten me either. \n\n\"Look, it was an accident, Lindsay...\" I started. I was trying to keep my poor temper in check.\n\n\"Oh please, you just wanted to see my tits or something. Thanks for spilling cheap vodka on my top!\" Lindsay dabbed at it with a weak bar napkin.\n\nI continued to glare daggers at her. Jessie snapped me out of it by getting in my line of sight. Her lips said, \"Let's go.\"\n\nI snorted, but nodded. We turned to leave, my arm wrapped around Jessie.\n\n\"Have fun, fingerbanging each other!\" Lindsay called after us.\n\n\"At least my girlfriend is more loyal than your husband!\" I shot back. Lindsay's husband had been the subject of quite the scandal involving seven women.\n\nApparently that was the line. Lindsay jumped me as I held open the door for Jessie. We spilled out into the street.\nIn classic catfight fashion, Lindsay went for my hair. Which was cropped short, all she was doing was emphasizing my fauxhawk. \n\nWe separated and stared each other down. \n\nMy lip was curled, my blood was boiling! I was so infuriated! My mother's words were in my ear, about how I had special abilities, but I never could use them!\n\nSCREW THAT! THIS CUNT OF A WOMAN NEEDED HER ASS KICKED!\n\nI reached deep inside of myself. I could feel the power surging. I could feel my body changing. My clothing got tight across my back and shoulders.\n\nI smiled as I look to see Lindsay cowering. Her face contorted in shock. I was so tired of her shit. I could my insides churn with another power. I released an inhuman noise and let loose!\n\nI could feel it rise from my stomach through my neck and out my mouth. Lindsay screamed in horror.\n\nI opened my eyes to see what damage I had wrought. Lindsay was still very much alive, but coated in some sort of viscous fluid. It looked like vomit but three times more slimy. She began to blubber and she skittered away.\n\nI turned to face Jessie, who was shaking, her hands covering her mouth. I felt my ears cock awkwardly. \"What's... what's wrong?\" My mouth had changed shape, like my bottom teeth were in the way.\n\nIt was then Jessie couldn’t help herself anymore. She burst out laughing. I was even more confused. I blinked a few more times.\n\n\"What could POSSIBLY be so funny?!\"\n\n\"You! You're a were-llama!\" She struggled to pull out her compact while jiggling with laughter.\n\nUnfortunately, it was true what I saw in the mirror. I was a were-llama, with a fauxhawk. \n\n I think my mother was trying to save me this embarrasment by telling me never to use my powers....\n\n\nEDIT: Posted before done, made a few corrections with words. Sorry if it seems rushed, I am rusty with writing. I also did this just before work.",
"Most kids can’t wait to get to their 21st birthday for one obvious reason: party time. Don’t get me wrong, I was pretty excited to finally walk into a bar and not fidget as the bouncer checked my ID. But that wasn’t my focus on the cusp of my 21st birthday. No, my focus was on something else entirely. My focus was on total world domination.\n\nIt was a moment I had been waiting for all of my life. I had endured teasing, bullying and psychological torture over it. I had lived my entire childhood in fear of what people would do if they knew my secret. On my 21st birthday all of that was going to change once and for all.\n\nMy best friend Dave and I had agreed to meet at The Easy Gin at 11:30 on the eve of my 21st birthday. The Easy Gin was located in a historic building in the downtown of our college town. It was a long, narrow room that funneled from the dance floor in the back into an entryway barely wide enough for two people to walk should to shoulder. It was a fire officer’s nightmare, a sociopath’s dream and the perfect setting for my first steps into a life of villainy. \n\nDave was already waiting for me outside the bar when I arrived. \n\n“You look very…dark?” Dave said. “Happy Birthday.”\n\n“Thanks,” I said. I had spent a lot of time picking out the perfect outfit for my big coming-out event, shades of black with a blood red bowtie to help with the whole effect. Dave was wearing jeans and a shirt he had won at a carnival.\n\nAs we waited for midnight to arrive, I was pleased to note that the bar was crowded for a Thursday night. Some DJ was playing EDM in the back of the room, too far away for me to see anything but the reflection of his light kit on the walls. The frat boys, jocks, pretty girls, and every other member of a society that had never accepted me were packed together on the dance floor, blissfully unaware of the hell that was about to rain down upon them all.\n\n“We’ve got ten more minutes,” Dave said. “I’m gonna go out there and dance, you in?”\n\nI shook my head. “I wouldn’t go out there if I were you.”\n\n“It’s dancing,” Dave said. “You could try having fun on your birthday.”\n\n“I’m having plenty of fun,” I said. *And I’m about to have a lot more.*\n\nDave shrugged. He seemed annoyed, but that was normal. Dave had a pleasant, easygoing disposition. He’d never had to suffer through jeering bullies and hiding a secret power. He didn’t have evil to plan or revenge to exact. He just wanted to dance.\n\nI glanced at my phone a few minutes later. It was 11:58 PM. By the time I finished summoning my mojo, my 21st birthday would be here.\n\n*Happy birthday to me*, I thought.\n\nI wiggled my fingers in the air and concentrated on feeling the electricity flowing through my body and into my fingertips. I closed my eyes, recalled the look of horror on my playmates’ faces the first and only time I’d ever used my powers. I heard the chorus of little voices chanting “Freakshow” at me as they pointed and laughed. I felt 21 years of anger, fear, and disappointment flooding into me. I took a deep breath and pushed all of that energy out of me.\n\nSparks like fireworks showered down from the ceiling. In the back of the bar a few people screamed. It spread quickly through the crowd as people stopped dancing and scrambled to cover their heads. The music stopped. I could feel the corners of my mouth turning up. I rubbed my hands together in anticipation of the smoke and confusion and pain. This would be a wonderful debut.\n\nThe screams turned to cheers, then applause. I looked around, confused. No one was fleeing, no one was crying. And I certainly did not catch a delightful whiff of the acrid smell of burning hair and polyester. All I smelled was spilled beer and body spray.\n\nDave pushed his way through the dancing mob and came back to where I was leaning against a wall near the entrance.\n\n“Dude, you gotta check this out. I don’t know how they’re doing it but this is the best light show I’ve ever seen.”\n\nHe pulled me further into the bar, where the last of my sparks were still cascading down. I held my hand out. One of the sparks landed on my palm, pulsed brightly, then disappeared. I frowned.\n\n“Isn’t it awesome?” Dave yelled over the music.\n\nI mumbled “whatever” and walked away, staring at my hands. \n\n“You just need practice,” I said, walking out of the bar and into a nearby alleyway. “It’s been fifteen years since you used your powers, you just need to get the kinks out.”\n\nI tried it a few more times, growing more disheartened with every harmless spark that landed on my hair and shoulders like fairy dust.\n\n“Freakshow, Freakshow, *Freakshow*,” I said, growing loud with frustration. I reached up to the sky. “I was going to get my revenge. I was going to rule the world. What good is being a freakshow if I ended up with this lame ass superpower?” \n\nI did jazz fingers again and sparkling light showered down between the two dingy buildings. \n\n“WHAT WAS THE POINT OF THIS?” I yelled into the cosmos.\n\n“It’s not a lame superpower.” A voice said from the sidewalk.\n\n“What?” I asked. I felt the familiar feeling of paranoia grab hold of me again.\n\nA smallish girl in a black tank top and skinny jeans was standing in the yellow light of the streetlamp. Her hair was short and ragged, highlighted with streaks of hot pink. I could see the neon glow of a cigarette in her hand. \n\n“It’s not a lame superpower,” she repeated, coming closer to me as she took another drag. “You could probably do a lot with it if you tried.”\n\n“I doubt it,” I answered. The fear had subsided and was now replaced with annoyance.\n\n“I’m not sure how I’m going to exact revenge on anyone with this.”\n\n“Why would you want to?”\n\n“Do you understand what it’s like to get picked on?” I asked. “Or be treated like a weirdo?”\n\nShe laughed a little and turned her body to another angle. It took a moment for my brain to process the fact that there was only an empty sleeve where her right arm should have been.\n\n“Then you know,” I said, but I could feel my cheeks getting warm. “All of the name calling, and pushing, and leaving us out of games. They deserve to be punished. They deserve to pay for what they did to me. I was just a kid!”\n\n“Oh.” She said.\n\n“What?”\n\n“Nothing. Just – well, I doubt they remember even doing it.”\n\n“But I still do.”\n\n“Yeah,” she agreed. After a pause she said, “What if you didn’t, though?”\n\nI cocked my head at her.\n\n“What if you just got revenge by, I don’t know…not getting revenge?” she asked.\n\n“How would I do that?” I asked. \n\n“Well,” she said, thinking. “You’d just kind of decide to stop letting them have that power over you. Especially since they don’t even want it.”\n\n“And then what?”\n\n“And then…you’d be free to do whatever you want. You wouldn’t have to waste time on plots or worrying about how lame your powers might be. You’d go in there and dance and enjoy the night just like they are.”\n\nI pondered that.\n\n“I have to go back inside,” she said. “Good luck with your revenge, though.” \n\nI sat down on a stack of plastic crates and stared at my hands for a while, considering what she’d said. Could I just let them off the hook like that? After twenty-one years of plotting and scheming, could I just let everyone off the hook like that? \n\nMy phone buzzed. \n\n“where u at” Dave had texted.\n\nI got up and went back into the bar.\n\n“Happy Birthday,” the bouncer said, handing back my ID. \n\n“Thanks,” I said, shoving it back into my pocket.\n\nDave was waiting by the door with a drink in each hand. He handed me one of them.\n\n“I’ve been looking all over for you,” Dave said. “Sorry I missed your birthday.”\n\nI thought about what the girl outside had said. “Hey man,” I said, gesturing to the flashing lights on the dance floor. “Let’s get out there.”\n\n“Hell yes,” Dave said. \n\nI felt a little nervous surrounded by a mob of sweaty, drunk, overexcited people. People just like the bullies who’d pointed and laughed at me in grade school. People who would probably make fun of me if they knew I was responsible for the failed fire drill a few minutes earlier. \n\nAcross the mass of gyrating bodies I saw a face I recognized up on the stage. I got as close to the DJ table as I could and tried to catch her eye.\n\n“Hey!” the girl from the alley said. She motioned for me to join her up on the stage. I wriggled my way through the bodies pressed up close to it and took the stairs up to the table.\n\n“You didn’t tell me you were the DJ,” I said over the noise.\n\n“It didn’t come up,” she said. “Wanna try something?”\n\n“Sure,” I answered. It wasn’t like the night could get any worse.\n\n“Are you ready, magic fingers?” She asked. She closed her eyes and raised the one hand over her head, rocking her body to the electronic beat building in intensity. She pointed at me. \n\nI panicked and wiggled my fingers.\n\nThe beat dropped, the sparks flew from the ceiling, and hundreds of voices across the room cheered. They probably didn’t realize it, but they were cheering for me.\n\nI could see her laughing through the strobe lights. She lowered the track volume and picked up the microphone.\n\n“This is DJ Kat with my special guest on the lights--” she held out the mic for me to introduce myself. I froze.\n\n“Freakshow,” I said timidly into the microphone. \n\n“Let’s hear it for Freakshow!” she shouted into the mic. She set it down and pulled up the music again, cuing me to start the sparks again.\n\nThe crowd didn’t stare, or gape, or point at me like some horror film character. Instead, an entire room of people were chanting, “Freakshow, Freakshow, Freakshow.”\n\nI had never felt more alive in my life. \n",
"\"Dude, I glow!\" I said, my grin stretched open like a Cheshire Cat.\n\n\"What, like when a girl is pregnant?\" Todd asked, obviously confused. His face always contorted when he didn't understand something, or really when any other emotion hit. Our teachers and professors would tell him that he wears his heart on his sleeve, which brought on more facial maneuvers as he tried to wrap his mind around the implications. \n\n\"No man, like, in the dark!\" I was excited. Todd was my best friend since kindergarten, and the first person I'd revealed my secret to. \n\n\"Since when?\" \n\n\"Since almost always, my parents told me that they found me glowing one night after my 3rd birthday.\"\n\nTodd paused, his face hardened as he began to concentrate. \"That doesn't make any sense, what about all the sleepovers? I never once saw you glow!\" \n\n\"Spray tan, man. What? Did you think I was naturally this shade of orange?\" I suppress a laugh, I don't want to make light of such an occasion. \n\n\"I don't know man, I guess I thought you were, like, sick or something.\" He shrugged, looking defeated. \n\n\"Gee, thanks.\" I rolled my eyes and he shrugged again apologetically. We sat in silence, each lost in thought.\n\n\"So what now?\" He asked after a few minutes.\n\n\"Well, how many people do you know with a superpower?\" I begin. \n\n\"None, besides you.\" \n\n\"And what do people with superpowers do?\"\n\n\"Well Superman saved the world a bunch.\"\n\n\"Superman isn't real. I am. So I am going to have to take his place and put on the mantle of truth, justice, and liberty. I will defend this planet against those who wish to destroy it. I will stand up for the weaker man, the mere mortals. I will become,\" I pause for dramatic effect, \"Nightlight!\" ",
"\"You have superpowers,\" my mum used to tell me.\n\n\"But you must, never, ever use them,\" she would later caution. \"Because humanity would never treat someone different kindly.\"\n\nFollowing her advice, for twenty-one years I hid my power, afraid to use it. Beneath the facade of my otherwise uninteresting life, I wondered what kind of powers I had. Was it super strength? Incredible speed? Or telekinesis? \n\nTo my mum's relief and my own annoyance, my powers never really manifested themselves. It didn't emerge when Dan from school pummeled me almost daily, because he didn't like the way my face looked. Nothing happened when I got robbed and beaten by two thugs. Even when I saw a truck heading towards my mum, no power was unleashed.\n\nIt was therefore not surprising that after a while, I started to doubt my mum's words. Perhaps she said it just to make me happy, to give my dull life a meaning when she knew it was only going to be a disaster. I hated her for it. Hated her for giving me such a false hope, that I was special.\n\nIt was not until my 21st birthday that I finally understood what my power was.\n\nI was walking back to my dorm after spending the day in the library, when four guys cut me off. Their red and black jerseys easily gave their identity away. Members of Delta Pi, the school's fraternity. Standing taller than the other three guys, the leader was easily recognizable. James Johnson. The famous quarterback.\n\nI tried to ignore them, attempting to walk past them, but a strong shove pushed me to the ground. Not unlike the usual treatment that I got. My books were scattered across the ground. Before I could react, a strong punch landed on my stomach. I yelped in pain.\n\n\"That's for flirting with the quarterback's girlfriend!\" the guy who punched me declared.\n\nI rolled around on the grass, the pain was almost unbearable. Despite being a usual target for bullies, pain was still something I was not used to. And then a kick landed on my back, followed by another to my legs.\n\n\"No, I didn't, I'm sorry!\" I groaned in pain, but they didn't listen. The hits just kept coming, each hurting more than the last. By the time they were done, I felt blood in my mouth, and I struggled to open my eyes.\n\nJames was squatted just inches away from me. In his hand, he was dangling a girl's panties. \n\n\"So you're so desperate to get into my girlfriend's pants, isn't it,\" he mocked. \"How about I help you then?\"\n\nToo weak to respond, I laid there as his hands pulled the panties around my head, covering it. \n\n\"How about that, loser!\" he laughed as he stepped away, his friends laughing with him. From my swollen eyes, I saw them slowly walked away, leaving me on the grass in shame, too weak to defend myself.\n\nI would have just continued to lay there, like I usually do, if not for a strange sensation suddenly flowing through my body. The overwhelming pain was no longer there, as a vision of my mum appeared before me. \"Son, your moment has finally arrived,\" she said with a smile.\n\nI slowly stood up, suddenly finding myself acutely aware of my surroundings. A strange light enveloped me, as my tattered clothes slowly transformed to reveal something far more eye-catching. My body was no longer scrawny, but bulked just like Captain America when after he was injected with the serum. No longer did I feel weak.\n\nI whistled at James and his friends, who all turned and stare at me bewilderingly. \n\n\"And just who the fuck are you?\" one of them blurted out, his eyes studying my costume, oblivious that I was the same person that he punched earlier. Panties above my head, with a mankini covering my totally ripped new body, topped off with an elegant fishnet stocking.\n\nI grinned. \"My name is [Hentai Kamen](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TozprFrnn10), pervert of justice, and I am here to seek my revenge.\"\n\n-----------\n\n/r/dori_tales\n\n"
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[WP] Suddenly everyone gets a superpower but they got their downsides though. Super strength causes terrible joint and back problems, speedsters have some major difficulties living at normal speed and people with laser eyes... | 2 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
" No such thing as a free lunch... that's what the world told themselves to get over the crushing disappointment that came with a superpower. I sit and type at my desk, Joan comes racing by. She speaks so fast I can't understand her, I've learned to just nod and smile. I stand up and reach to take the stack of papers on my desk, it's incredibly heavy. I look around for Aaron, he's the office prankster. He can manipulate matter but at the cost of increasing universal entropy. He's on watchlist. \n\n I give up and slink over to Frank's corner office, I knock on the open door to catch his attention. \"Hey buddy, I know you've been pretty sore this week but I could use some help. Aaron made my stacks of paper too dense and I can't lift them, really need those copies.\" Frank rolled his eyes and got up slowly, \"That damn kid is gonna have a raid come down on our heads soon enough if he keeps up with these shenanigans.\" Frank always looked like he was in some kind of pain, he was a retired power lifter. I do mean **power** lifter, he was once the strongest being on the planet. He pushed himself too hard though and his joints tore, the surgeries he had to go through outnumber the amount of titles and medals he won. \n\n After thanking Frank for the help I took the copies, much lighter than the originals. I placed the stack in the 'going out folder.' I could see Mary in the corner, bundled up on this nice summer day. I was feeling a bit warm so I decided to go and ask her about today's meeting. \"Quite the day so far, huh?\" Sarcasm hanging off my every word. Mary let out a little chuckle, \"Y-Y-You'd think that t-t-they'd just m-m-make cuts already h-h-huh? W-w-waiting is torture.\" I let out a little laugh, my thoughts drifting to my job security with the company. \"Yea, it'll be a sad day I'm sure but you'll be alright Mary. How's the cold coming along?\" She held her hand on her coffee mug, the contents of which were frozen solid. \"S-s-should be b-better in no time!\" she finished with a warm smile. I said my goodbyes and walked back to my desk to grab my coat. \n\n Joan was already home I supposed, I waited for Frank. I always enjoyed our conversations on the elevator ride down, he regaled me with old tales in his glory days. I think it helped him deal with the pain a little bit. Exiting the building Frank went left and I went right, just like every other day. I walked out onto the street lost in thought, not noticing the light hadn't yet changed. I remember flying through the air, I woke up to Frank holding my head, a crowd of people forming around me. The medics arrived, I knew it would be painful. \n\nThey started with trying to give me anesthetic to numb the pain, I still felt everything. They attempted to heal me, even though it was detrimental to their own longevity, to no avail. I told them to get me to a hospital as quickly as possible, they obliged. The emergency surgery was excruciating but I survived. Frank came to visit and told me to take as long as I needed, I thanked him. Doctor's gave me pills but I refused them, they wouldn't work anyway. As I looked down at my broken and bruised legs, pain coursing through them, I had forgotten how much total immunity to any and all substances could suck.\n\n*** \n\nHope you liked it! r/TheYogiBearhaWrites "
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[WP] You are in the middle of working a boring office job and have an existential crisis. | 7 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"\"Yes, hi. I am trying to order and Evidence of Homeowner's Insurance for a Mr. Smith? We are the lender for his new property...Yes he is a Solider. Yes the VA loans are very compelling. Ok thank you, I'll get that request right over to you.\"\n\nJason hangs up the phone. *\"She seems like a nice lady\"* he thinks to himself as he straightens his red polo shirt and fixes his posture. *\"Clothes are getting tight...\"* he also thinks to himself as he lets one whole on his belt notch out.\n\nJason works in the Mortgage Industry as a Loan Processor; when a loan is being processed, it is his job to gather all the documents required from the borrowers and third parties (Tax Returns, Income Documentation, Homeowner's Insurance, ect.) and he likes the job. It's stable, he makes good money and he doesn't have to go out into the big scary world, but most importantly, he is so good at his job that *his boss hardly talks to him and recognizes Jason as his own boss.* That control over his own life, that is the true prize that he values above all. \n\n*Knock knock knock* goes the sound of knuckles on his door. \"It's open!\" He says in his deep voice.\n\n\"Hey Jason, bad news\" Richard begins as he peeks his head into Jason's office, a sad look on his round face, \"That Smith file? Going to have to cancel it. The borrower was killed in action and the widow won't have access to his benefits for a while. Thanks for all your help, buddy.\" Richard leaves the office and closes the door behind him.\n\n\"Oh well, it happens. Thanks for doing your duty, Mr. Smith.\" Jason says sincerely as he closes the file containing Mr. Smiths income documents. He swivels in his chair to his shredder behind him so he can destroy the documents, per company policy. As he begins feeding the shredder, he stops. He takes Mr. Smith's file in his hands and opens it. On the left is a picture of Smith's family that he never noticed before, and why would he?guidelines are guidelines and rules are rules: either you qualify for a loan or you don't. Seeing a family has nothing to do with that. But he couldn't help but notice the beautiful wife and baby boy, he assumed since there was a blue blanket covering the child, that couldn't be more than a year old. Suddenly, it starts to sink in.\n\nRichard voice echoed in his head. *\"Mr. Smith was killed in action.\" \"Mr. Smith was killed in action.\" \"Mr. Smith was killed in action.\"* \n\nSmith didn't ask to be killed, Smith didn't want to be killed, Smith had no control over his death. *Smith had no control at all.* \n\n\"How much control do I really have?\" Jason thought to himself. \"I could walk out of this office building today and get mugged and murdered. I could be crossing the street and get run over. *And what have I accomplished? Not a fucking thing....\"*\n\n\"I am pathetic\" Jason muttered as he bowed his head, crumbling the Soldier's file in his hands due to his rage. \"I control documents. Paper. *I control fucking pieces of paper.*\" he continued to mumble. He swiveled his chair back around to face the desk, he pulled out his keys and opened the bottom right desk drawer. Jason pulled out all the documents and then took off the false bottom of the drawer, revealing his Father's old .45 gun.\n\n*\"I can have some control...\"* he thought to himself as he pulled the barrel back, loading a round into the chamber. *\"Some form of control...\"* he whispered to no one as he pointed the gun to his temple.\n\n*\"Control...\"*\n",
"Derek's game launched today. He just messaged me. It's tuesday morning, and it's already selling by the thousands.\n\n*Reply to Derek: Congrats man! Gonna try it out after work :) You finally got lucky :D*\n\n*Send.*\n\nOh god. Does that sound shitty?\n\n**Ring ring**\n\n\"DualTec Solutions, this is Tom. How may I help you today?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"What is your account number, sir?\"\n\n\"The number is at the bottom of your confirmation letter.\"\n\n\"Aha. Thank you.\"\n\n\"Well, I see that service wasn't activated. I've turned it on for you. If you log out and wait five minutes, it should be working.\"\n\n\"You're welcome. Can I help you with anything else?\"\n\n\"You as well, sir. Goodbye.\"\n\nFuck. Fuck! No reply. I've probably offended him.\nBut honestly. He must have tried fifty or sixty different ideas. Derek's been throwing so much crap at the wall, it was only a matter of time before something stuck.\n\n**Ring ring**\n\n\"DualTec Solutions, this is Tom. How may I help you today?\"\n\n\"Alright madam. You need to speak to our client service department.\"\n\n*Message from Derek: Thanks.*\n\n\"Yes. I'll redirect you. Please hold.\"\n\nDamnit. I can't deal with this right now.\nMaybe Derek should deal with reality instead of getting pissy. Really he's been doing the same thing since college. Always with the new ideas, but where the hell is he when it's finishing time. How many hours did I spend covering for him - saving half-assed code while he slept all day, because he had to stay up all fucking night doing some other fucking thing.\n\n**Ring ring**\n\nI mean, I stuck with it. I stayed up late doing assignments. Reading. Getting grades. Where the fuck is my greenlight? Where's my big break?\n\n**Ring ring**\n\nHe must have been lucky. Really, what else could it have been? He did not do the work. He was lazy. I kept him afloat.\n\n**Ring ring**\n\nI put in the goddamn fucking work. They told me to do the work. Grind on through. Get stuck in. Keep your chin up. Fucking liars. Goddamn fucking liars. They told me I could do what I wanted to do. They lied. They should have said: Work hard, get fucked. Fuck around, get paid.\n30 years old. Who breaks out after that. Oh yeah, Zuckerberg and Gates and whoever the fuck really stuck through the boring stuff. That's why everyone knows who they are.\n\nWhat do I do?\n\n**Ring ring**\n\n*Reply to Derek: Hey. Didn't mean to put you down. I know you've worked hard for this. Good job man*\n\n*Send.*\n\n**Ring ring**\n\n\"DualTec Solutions, this is Tom. How may I help you today?\""
] | [
1,
2,
2
] | [
"1486584680",
"1486587328",
"1486593731"
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[WP] Everyone laughed at your great great great grandfather when he was buying stars and real estate in outer space back in 2017. Now, one hundred years later, outer space travel and real estate are very real. You just found out you just inherited half of the galaxy. | 102 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"Back when everyone was getting out of the market I gave one of my stars to my sister. She was getting married, getting out of that shithole we grew up in, and she’s always been awesome to me so I felt she deserved it. It was the smart thing to do at the time, sell it all off. But I refused. \n\nYou see, the whole reason we could buy things in space was that someone had decided that countries couldn’t own things in space. Nobody said anything about individuals, so boom – companies started selling off lots on the moon, and then stars, and then exoplanets… Basically anything they could put on a certificate of ownership and give a close enough description off to fool someone into buying. It was mostly a novelty thing so nobody really took it all that seriously. \n\nAnd that’s where Alfred comes in, my great great great grandfather or something like that. He used to say I was his favorite child, usually when my mom caught me red handed doing something I shouldn’t and I spun a yarn so long she forgot to punish me. He used to say I must have kissed the Blarney stone twice over, not that I ever found out what that meant. The point is, Alfred was a stubborn mule, a stubborn mule with the gift of gab, and he said he saw the same in me. Maybe he was right, maybe he wasn’t, I much prefer to stay to myself and talk a lot less, but when I talk… well. \n\nAlfred collected stars. The owner certificates, that is. He bought them up every time he got his pension, straight from the companies, picked them up at flea markets, sent out ads and requests. When people asked he always said the same thing… “Oh I’m an old man, just like collecting something. Let an old man have his sins.” \n\nBut to me he told another story. He told me how he grew up, 12 kids and 3 adults in a two room apartment on the seventh floor of a city block so full of concrete you could go days without seeing so much as a straw of grass. He told me that back in his days a piece of land was living like a king, because you could live off land but you couldn’t live off an apartment. So owning so much as a flowerbed was a luxury to him. It wasn’t that there was any inherent value in it any more, but it was the principle of the thing, and Alfred was a man of principles. \n\nSo he bought the stars, for himself, for his descendants. He used to say that if the day came that mankind went to the stars, maybe the greedy governments would be kind enough to at least honor enough of his claims for someone someday to have that flowerbed. \n\nWhen I inherited it all from him, I didn’t have to think – I was going to keep it all of course. When the space race hit the second phase, the moon base built, the space station built, the first experimental century ships being constructed… that’s when the chaos started. Suddenly we were actually going out there. Suddenly everyone started digging out these certificates, trying to claim they owned things. And the greedy came out… The companies and rich people started buying them up, en masse. Court cases started and were moved around over the world, trying to find the appropriate venue for these ownership claims to be tried… all the while companies bought and bought… and I didn’t sell. \n\nI didn’t care for riches. As Alfred once put it – riches only buys you more expensive copies of what you already own. I had enough to survive, I was comfortable, I didn’t need to be rich. The thought of Alfred’s flowerbed was all I needed. It was the principle of the thing. \n\nBut yeah, I gave that star to my sister and she sold out in the high six figures. She was set for a while. My mom tried peeking back into my life and nagging at me to sell but I shut that down quick – it would almost have been worth selling it all just to see the look on that hags face when she didn’t get a dime, but I wasn’t that vengeful when it came down it. I just hung up until the calls stopped. \n\nIt looked for a while like the companies had it well in hand. The highest paid attorneys in the world all convened for these court cases, multiple companies that nobody had ever heard off, the mother companies behind almost everything on the planet, pulled together to push this through. The UN and the larger governments convened a special planetary court for the final appeals, hosting judges from three different countries… but even so they were being basically steamrolled by these behemoth companies. \n\nSo it was quite shocking when it all fell apart. It happened quickly, as well. Through intragovernment cooperation space was declared a “sensitive zone” or something like that – it was all legalese to me – and for some reason the corporations property within that zone was legally null and void since the government hadn’t given their permission. Something about the potential for endangered species or planetary survival, it really was a stretch… but it was good enough to blow the whole house of cards over. \n\nCue a few months of shell shocked silence. A few corporations had to shuffle a few billions around to cover sudden losses when their supposed gazillion valued investments turned out to be the sheer novelty items they were originally seen as. Or well, less than that even since the government demanded all the certificates back so they could void them officially. \n\nI should have realized it then, but of course I didn’t give it a second thought. After they had shut down the companies’ claims and voided all their certificates, they came after the private owners. There wasn’t many of us left though. A handful of people that had held out on a star trying to get a higher payout, and waited a day or two too long. Greed being punished, they handed over their certs quite easily. But when the man came to my door… I slammed it. \n\nThey used to belong to Alfred. Even if they were just glorified mementoes now they were important to him, and so they were important to me. But of course we can’t say no to the government for very long. Not without the help of a very clever lawyer. \n\nWhich is how I met Barry. \n\n(continues in comment)",
"I have never been someone you would consider important. I was never fit for the pages of immortality. Some men are born great, is what Shakespeare said, right? I was just born lucky.\n\n\nI look up at the sky and I hold my wife. The one thing I've learned in finance, the one thing that I really think about, is that the timing of your cash flows are what's important. It's the timing that makes everything. Had the timing been a little later, maybe I would have been an important man.\n\n\nMy great, great grandfather was wealthy and important. He bought the night you look at. He bought the celestial light of the far away stars. He bought our galaxy, practically. But this was in the 2000's, and he was called a nutjob. Again, it's all about timing.\n\n\nI inherited very little except for the night sky. I worked hard but I was hardly much. The fruits of my labor were raisins, all shriveled and dry. I managed through life, but I floated on, not really sticking to anything.\n\n\n\nI met the love of my life after my father had died. He was never a sentimental man and I don't know if he would have approved, but I loved her and she was my world. She was sick when I met her and she grew worse. Dad had followed in his grandfather's footsteps, becoming a wealthy business man in his own right, but I dedicated my life to her. That was more worthwhile.\n\n\nAt first we did okay. She responded to the treatment. Then she did not respond and it became bad. My pockets were empty. What could I have done? This was the 80's I guess, and I was depressed. She lay on the couch, I remember, dying and wasting and always looking at the dust dance in the light from the windows. Our house was quiet and full of dire anticipation.\n\n\nThen there was a light, an opportunity that had arose. All those stars and planets and space my great, great grandfather had bought had interested someone. A young upstart businessman. I didn't know why it interested him and at the time I didn't care. New treatments had come out. New hopes had emerged. He offered me a great sum for it all and I took it greatfully. \n\n\nMy wife was saved with the money. The new breakthroughs worked and the disease ceased to spread and it regressed. She recovered. All the money had gone by then but she was alive and we were happy.\n\n\nThe years passed and there were constant breakthroughs for the human species. Slowly we advanced and became a multi-planetary race. Soon we became a multi-system race. The borders opened and there was a rush of development and migration. That young business man became the most powerful man alive. He became one of the most important men in all of history.\n\n\nI must admit that I did feel some regret and anger. But I was never great. History would gloss me over as life had. There is only one thing I cherish, really cherish, in this life and I had given it all for her. It was the right decision and I would make it again.\n\n\nThese days the Earth feels empty, sparse and alone. They say that there are less that three billion of us remaining. The others have gone far away to the twinkles of the sky. We remain, of course, and we stare at the night sky every night and hold each other for warmth. It is thing of beauty, that sky, but it all seems to cold. I was never an explorer. I was never the adventuring type. We look at the sky and we go to bed and live a simple life. It isn't much, maybe, and it's small. But the universe is built on the small things."
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1,
3,
20
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"1486602623",
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Edit: No one else can hear the cat and dog talk but you and your partner, so have fun with their exchanges. | [WP] You decide to go on a double date. The other couple is your talking cat and your partner's talking dog. | 7 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"\"Johnny?\"\n\nHearing his name, the blonde man sat up straight and looked around the restaurant. He smiled at the woman approaching the last few steps toward the table. \"Yeah, that's me. You must be Elise?\"\n\nShe tucked a stray wisp of brown hair behind her ear as she returned his smile. \"Yep.\" They shook hands, only a little awkwardly. \"It's nice to meet you.\"\n\n\"You too.\" A longhaired tabby cat jumped up on the table. Without missing a beat, Johnny said, \"And that makes this Professor Licks?\"\n\n\"Yeah, that's me,\" said the cat, her tone dripping with condescension. \"Don't get used to it, we'll be out of here once you two disappoint us.\"\n\nWide-eyed, Johnny looked at Elise, who mouthed \"sorry\" at him. Shaking himself, he waved an introductory hand at the last seat at the table. \"Speaking of, this is Barnaby. My best bud.\"\n\nSitting in the chair, the bulldog's eyes barely cleared the table. He hopped up and put his front paws on the spotless linen tablecloth. \"Hi, nice to meet you, Professor Licks, Elise.\" His stubby tail wagged. \"Can I call you Licks?\"\n\n\"Definitely not.\" Professor Licks groomed one of her paws with an air of offended dignity.\n\nBarnaby nodded amiably. \"OK then, Prof.\"\n\nProfessor Licks' tail bristled. \"My name is Professor Licks, you buffoon.\"\n\n\"Now, be nice, Professor Licks,\" urged Elise, with a smile at Johnny's handsome face.\n\nJohnny half-rose as Elise pulled out her own chair and sat in one smooth motion. Finding himself awkwardly standing, he coughed and made a show of reaching for his water glass, sitting back down to take a sip. \"So, uh... is this your first blind double date?\" he asked.\n\n\"Yeah,\" Elise replied as Professor Licks finished grooming and began stalking around the table, smelling dishes and looking into glasses. \"It's a little weird, isn't it?\"\n\nJohnny chuckled, ignoring the fluffy tail that crisscrossed repeatedly between them. \"It kind of is.\"\n\nWithout looking, Elise picked up her glass to save it from Professor Licks' shoving paw. \"But variety is the spice of life, as they say. I figured it was worth a try. Maybe I'd meet someone nice, you know?\" She sipped, using the motion as cover to admire the way Johnny's shirt strained across his shoulders.\n\nJohnny had been surreptitiously admiring her big dark eyes, so he didn't miss the direction of her gaze. He grinned at her. \"I know exactly what you mean. I-- hey! Barnaby!\"\n\nWithout a shred of guilt, the bulldog withdrew his nose from where it had been buried beneath Professor Licks' tail. \"You recently switched to the tuna-flavored kibble. That explains your alluring perfume,\" he said smoothly to her.\n\n\"Barnaby,\" groaned Johnny, at the same time that Professor Licks cooed, \"Oh, my.\"\n\n\"What?\" said Johnny.\n\nProfessor Licks laid down on the table in front of Barnaby. \"Tell me more, you flatterer.\"\n\n\"You've been getting into the butter--\" (\"Hey!\" exclaimed Elise.) \"--and it's doing wonders for your coat. How often do you groom to keep looking so beautiful?\"\n\n\"Oh, constantly. You know how it is, I'm sure.\"\n\n\"Not really. I just roll in the compost heap--\" (\"You what?\") \"--a couple times a day to keep the smell fresh.\" (\"That explains so much,\" Johnny groaned.)\n\nElise folded her hands on the table with a barely-noticeable thump. \"So!\" she said, smiling tightly at Johnny. \"What do you do for fun?\"\n\nJohnny tore his eyes away from the other date at the table. \"Nothing special. Hit the gym, play Xbox, sometimes I get out on the lake on my jet ski.\"\n\nElise's face fell with each word. She recovered her smile and an injection of interest and said, \"Oh, a jet ski, that does sound fun. I've never done that.\"\n\n\"Now's your chance, then. Oh, uh, I guess not *now* now. The water's kind of cold this time of year. In a few months, though?\" He picked up his glass and took a gulp, his eyes embarrassed over the rim.\n\n\"Yeah,\" Elise agreed, nodding a little too vigorously. \"Sounds great. Uh... have you read any good books lately?\"\n\n\"Naw, I'm not really the reading type.\"\n\n\"Oh.\"\n\n\"There was this great article in Muscle Magazine the other month, though...\" He tilted his head, gauging her interest.\n\n\"Oh yeah?\" Elise said, kicking herself even as the words escaped her.\n\n\"Yeah!\" Johnny enthused, back on comfortable ground. \"See, they did this experiment on exactly how much creatine...\"\n\nOn the other side of the table, sparks were flying. \"Tell me again about my poop, Barneykins,\" purred Professor Licks, climbing down into Barnaby's chair and rubbing her face against him.\n\n\"I can barely even smell it,\" said Barnaby, giving her back half another confirming sniff. \"You keep your butthole really clean.\"\n\n\"It's positively hours per day of backbreaking work, but it pays off in the end.\"\n\nBarnaby's tongue lolled out as he laughed. \"In the end! That's a good one!\"\n\nProfessor Licks groomed her face fur, looking pleased with herself. \"A gentleman *and* a scholar. What a rare combination.\"\n\n\"Aww, thanks.\"\n\nProfessor Licks leaned against Barnaby. \"Let's get out of here, what do you say?\"\n\n\"Sounds great. A couple blocks from here, there's an excellent dumpster I know that has a real deep, complex bouquet. It's behind a Thai place, a hair salon, and a hardware store. And with any luck, we'll find a dead rat too.\"\n\n\"Oh, you charmer, you.\""
] | [
1,
2
] | [
"1486609892",
"1486656568"
] |
[WP] When a human dies, another parallax world is created where this human continues to live as they didn't die, in this world, they can remember their death from the previous world but no one would believe them. | 12 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"My name is Joe, and I’ve died 39 times so far. Given that I’m only 26 years old this is probably more than average, but the thing is… I wouldn’t know. I died seven times just from the side effects of having told someone of these memories – everything from overdoses to adverse sedative reactions, oh and let’s not forget that one guy at the asylum and his breakdown. After I woke up, remembering my brutal dismembering as every other time… I was the only one left alive. \n\nSo naturally I have now gotten “better”. I no longer remember dying horribly when I cross a road and a car careens out of control just a second too late to actually hit me. I don’t remember drinking too much and dying of alcohol poisoning when I wake up hungover. I don’t remember getting stabbed to death in a botched mugging when I take an uneventful walk through a dark alley. \n\nI got a lot better. I no longer need to be medicated, I no longer talk to my shrinks. I’m pretty sure at least one or two of them guessed I was just pretending to be over it, but in this day and age they don’t really care. I’m just a number on a long list of people who need help, and if they can send me back out in society they don’t care if I actually have my shit together or can just pretend enough that I won’t actually go nuts and kill everyone or something. \n\nSo yeah, here I am, in a boring call center job, wishing I was dead like most of the drones around me. Life doesn’t hold much for me, not with the horrors I have to remember every day. There’s no stress when your mind is already set to ‘dead’, no amount of pressure can compete with the feeling of your inner organs being torn apart slowly… It’s like my scale for everything has a new 10, and the worst this reality can throw at me now is a 3 at best in comparison. \n\nAnd I know, you are still wondering how I managed to die 39 times in 26 years of life. I wondered the same, wondered if everyone else walked around getting into this kind of shit as often as me… but no. From everything I can tell, I just have the worst fucking luck. If normal people go to the second floor of an old house, they hear the floor creaking and walk carefully. If I go to the second floor of an old house, I feel the floor giving way under me, feel the exposed splinters and nails tearing up my body as I fall through grasping for purchase, I feel the slam of my body against the hard surfaces, I feel the tingling as my hand grabs that cable it shouldn’t have as I finally lose my grip, and that sudden explosion of pain and then nothing as my feet touch the floor while my hand still holds the frayed cable… And then I’m up there again, hearing the floor creaking, but standing half an inch to the side of where I stepped the last time. Just like that. Worst luck ever. \n\nFor a while I spent a lot of time thinking about how I could use this. Like could I be a super hero or something? Invulnerable man, always getting shot but never dying? In the end I just don’t know. I’ve never once died on purpose. There’s always that niggling doubt in the back of my head, that worry that this only works when it’s an accident. I don’t believe, in my heart of hearts, that I’m immortal. I just know it somehow, just feel like it’s… like it’s just the way I am. Just an oddity. Like Fred two desks down that has an extra toe he always shows off the staff parties. Just a mutation. \n\nBut enough contemplation, back to work! Another day another dollar, gotta pay for the hopefully memory loss inducing alcohol overdose this weekend somehow! I pick up the phone just as the thunderclap sounds outside, and whimper a quiet ‘Fuck’ as the lightning strike courses through our switchboard, up all our phone lines, through my hand, my arm, my chest, I can feel my heart crashing before it all goes black… \n\nAnd the rasping of a fire alarm brings me back. There’s smoke, but no fire… I know the smell of burning flesh. I’m not the only one shell shocked, some walk to check on the fallen, some just stand there, some, like me, walk over to the windows to watch the storm, watch the view, watch anything but the chaos behind us. \n“Are you okay,” says some girl I haven’t learned the name of yet. She gestures at my arm, and I blush, quickly rolling my sleeve down to cover the tell-tale Lichtenberg scars. “Did you get hit?”\n\n“No no,” I quickly lie. “Just a skin condition. It’s nothing, really.” \n\nJust a skin condition, drawing scars all over my body. Scars from accidents that never happened. Just a skin condition that nobody would ever believe. \n*****\nI archive my writing on r/ringaroundtheroses in case you're looking for more to read! \n"
] | [
1,
7
] | [
"1486650658",
"1486654295"
] | |
[WP] Toy snake. Real venom. | 2 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"\"Y'know, Alex, you may just have outdone yourself this time,\" I murmured to my friend. He'd just put the finishing touches on my latest idea. He sighed. \n\n\"Even by your standards, Kat, this is a very low blow. Getting the kid involved?\" \n\n\"They're both immortal, I just really want to hear that 999 call.\" I pretended to hold a phone to my ear. \"Yes, I've just been bitten by a snake. Its fangs are dribbling something and I'm losing my vision... It's pink and fluffy wood...\" Alex laughed. \n\n\"Okay, okay. Just don't come crying to me if he lops your head off again.\" I looked at him in fake puzzlement. \n\n\"Hell no. I'm framing Drac for this.\" I paused. \"Bastard keeps borrowing my diamonds for his gold pile.\" ",
"**Roy**: This should end her, that's for sure. After all those years, justice will be served. \n**Karen**: A toy snake? My toy spider didn't work. She flinched and that's it. Not even remotely a heart attack. How is your snake better? \n**Roy**: It spits water in your face. But that's not all. I filled it with Razor's venom. You know Razor, my dad's rattlesnake. \n**Karen**: Wow, that's crazy. \nRoy carefully positions the toy onto the locker of Mrs. Fenzel, the school's psychologist who is also known as Dolores Umbridge. \nRoy and Karen wait in silence and watch as Mrs. Fenzel approaches the locker. \n***Mrs. Fenzel***: What is this? Those little bastards, when I find out who is making these pranks I will make them suffer. \nAs Mrs. Fenzel reaches into her purse for her glasses, the snake's head explodes into a Chinese umbrella as it spits the water laced with the snake's milk. \nMrs Fenzel fell onto the bottom, her face covered in liquid, growing red with anger. She yells \"I WILL FEAST ON YOUR SOUL\" and proceeds with her routine wrathfully. \n**Karen**: Now that was spectacular. But wasn't it supposed to end her? She can't be immortal. \n**Karen**: How did you manage to get the venom? \n**Roy**: I didn't have to extract it, I found the it in the bin, in a sack. My parents were in their room when mum told dad to milk his snake. I thou-- \nKaren places her palm on her forehead. \n**Karen**: You're an idiot Roy, but our justice has been served.",
"Master Roc said, \"Repeat after me. Toy snake. Real Venom.\"\n\n\n\"Toy snake. Real venom.\" We were all chanting in unison.\n\n\n\"Toy snake! Real venom!\" he said louder this time.\n\n\n\"Toy snake! Real Venom!\" We all screamed at the top of our lungs.\n\n\n\"Excellent. Everyone take a seat, and begin your stretches.\" He started every class this way, from the time were were small children until we were grown men, monks in the Order of Taipan.\n\n\nHe never told us what it meant, and this was not a place for asking questions. \"Truth is only revealed when it is needed,\" is what he liked to say. As a young student I thought he meant that he would tell us when we were older, more mature, capable of understanding. The meaning I came to find as an adult was that real truth is only understood through experience. I can tell you the stove is hot, but you do not respect the heat until you are burned.\n\n\nWe are an order of assassins who take orders only from the emperor himself. Once we leave our school, we are spread throughout the countryside. Each of us lives two lives. I am a florist, a husband, and a father, a polite man loved by his community. I am also a ruthless trained assassin who shows no mercy to his intended mark, no matter who they may be. Toy snake. Real venom.\n\n\nToday, for the first time in many years, I am visiting my old master. It will be good to see him.\n\n\nI took his hand as I walked to the front of his dojo. \"Master Roc, I have missed you. Thank you so much for all you have taught me. I have found true happiness with my wife and child. You would be so proud of my beautiful family.\"\n\n\n\"I know why you have come.\"\n\n\n\"Toy snake. Real Venom,\" I said to him as he looks down to see the needle sticking out of his wrist.\n\n\n\"You were always the best. Toy snake. Real venom.\" He collapsed to the floor, still holding my arm. I let go of him and turned to his students, who were all still sitting at attention.\n\n\n\"By order of the emperor, I am your new teacher. Repeat after me. Toy snake. Real Venom.\""
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[WP] You thought this would be an ordinary cleaning job, but boy were you wrong! | 12 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"\t*BUzz BUzz BUzz*\n\t8pm. \n\tUgh. Time for work.\n\tI roll out of bed and sleepily begin my morning routine. I mean evening routine. Fuck. This \"glitch\" in the system better get worked out soon. I can still hear Cindy from HR apologizing to me in her bright too-sunshiney voice.\n\t\"Oh, Mr. Turner I am oh so very sorry. You have to understand we just made the switch to a new computer system and the kinks and the bugs oh and you understand!\"\n\t\"Look, I get it, but what the hell? How is it possible to mess up this much? I'm working a shift that some guy in Rome is supposed to get! That doesn't even make sense!\"\n\t\"Oh, I know I know Mr. Turner and you have to understand that I don't blame you for being so annoyed, heaven only knows i'd be annoyed too if this had happened to me and I promise we are working as hard as we can to fix it, you'll just please have to bear with us in the meantime! Just make sure to be there when your shift starts at 9:30pm! This whole matter should be sorted in 1-16 weeks! Thank you goodbye!\"\n\t*Click!*\n\tHave you ever tried grumbling to yourself? It feels ridiculous at best. Doesn't stop me though. I still try it every morni-fuck-evening when I wake up though.\n \"1-16 weeks my ass. Should be sorted my ass.\" I mumble aggressively first to the empty room in general then to the tea steeping on the counter. Neither have much sympathy to offer. \n\tOf course that whole mix up with the shifts wasn't much compared to how surprised I was when learning what exactly the cleaning job entailed. When my boss, Mr. Lothar called to tell me I had the job, I still was a little unclear on what I would be doing since the job description said only \"Cleaning a Place. Must be Punctual before Duties stack up.\" Normally I wouldn't have taken such a job with such a vague job description, however, one doesn't apply for janitorial positions when one is in an excellent financial situation. The generous pay only rang further alarm bells which weren't quieted when Mr. Lothar justified the lucrative compensation because I 'would have to put up with some pretty weird shit.' Despite all of the flags being redder than the south during an election year, I went along with it, mostly because my landlady was becoming damn difficult to dodge.\n\n\tTonight I arrived at work and greeted Mr. Lothar, who was busy on his computer at the front desk, same as always. I'm pretty sure he never slept since the bags under his eyes heavy enough to make me tired just looking at them. He glumly waved me to the door. I was about to open it when I heard him say \"Ah. A moment.\" He reached behind him and flipped a switch or two on a control panel built into the wall that looked like it belonged in a cold war bunker. There were a series of loud thunks and a low grinding sound then the door warped a tiny amount before settling back into it's frame. \"Aight go on then.\" He settled back into his chair. I opened the door and slipped through then fought back some nausea as I closed the door behind me. Falling out of the waking universe will do that to anyone. First time I went through, I actually threw up. Mr. Lothar had just laughed at me and then summoned a mop and bucket into existence. My mind found that sort of unusual so in lieu of a proper reaction I vomited again.\n\tWhen my stomach finally calmed down, Mr. Lothar helped me to my feet. \"Welcome to the dreamscape,\" he said, thrusting the mop and bucket into my hands. \"I guess you can start with the mess you made. Then,\" he gestured widely to the enormous room that stretched out around me, \"You can work on the dreams.\" I then noticed the locations all around me, elementary through high school classrooms, hospital rooms filled with implements from the worst horror movies, fantastic towers stretching to impossible heights, labyrinthian monoliths twisting in impossible ways through the landscape, quiet brooks alongside sunny meadows floating on islands in the sky, and other locales that were impossible to describe. \n\t\"Whatthefuck,\" I squeaked. Mr. Lothar shrugged far too nonchalantly for a man in who worked in the front office of a building with a warehouse that didn't exist in the waking world.\n\t\"Welp, when you dream, you have to go somewhere. Think of it like a big set warehouse except for dreams. If that helps.\" It did not. \"You're needed to clean up the places that get a little messy during the night.\" I was starting to come out of my shock, when I realized what he was saying.\n\t\"How the hell am I supposed to clean ALL of these dreams? I mean, that one is literally painted in blood.\" It was true, the entire room, furniture included, was a shiny rust red. \"No getting the stains out of that carpet with this bullshit.\" I waved my pitiful mop and bucket at him.\n\t\"Oh, no no no, sorry for the misunderstanding! I don't expect you to clean everyone's dreams with a mop.\" He snorted. \"Jesus, that'd be fucking sadistic. Nah it's much easier than that. Just glance over the room, then imagine it clean. That's all there is to it.\" \n\tI walked over to the blood room and stared at it for a minute. It was pretty hard to picture what that place should look like, but I worked at it putting together the image in my head. Then I blinked and it looked just like I had imagined it. \"Whatthefuck.\" I muttered again. It was that sort of night.\n\tAnd to be honest, it turned out to be that sort of job. Sure it got a little weird at times, and sure cleaning up after adolescent sex dreams was the worst fucking thing since actually being in puberty, but the money, well it's a dream."
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[WP]You're the bartender at a local watering hole, your usual patrons are Satan, Devils, Demons, Fallen Angels and the like. One day, God came in to have a drink. | 54 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"The usual scum-of-the-earth walk in or should I say other world same old same old I clean up their messes, I make food, tell the same jokes over and over again, after all this is my hell. Turn around its 6 o'clock the usual batch of slups walk in but there's this glow behind one of them I've never seen this before as I get a better look I realize it's God \" What in the hell are you doing here?!?\" I ask rather rudely. God says in a voice that's strong yet, sweet, soft, yet firm. I've seen you do this for what would seem like an eternity deal but it's only a blink of the eye for God you toil day in and day out night after night without rest or relaxation you have done this for the last Thousand Years I'm here to take you to heaven for your punishment is over it's time to join on your friends and family who have made it. I stand there and cry with joy and hand God a drink its gone in seconds and as God drinks the last gulp I see his forked it the devil playing his god damn tricks again. -_-",
"The wood creeked on the walls just as much as it did the floors as ancient regular's auras breathed in and out.\nThey drank nausea and depression and slapped their glasses down. The room was tense and quiet but comfortable, all like minded and serving their own drinks until a pressure slowly built and settled the creaking. A rush of hot ice poured theough the entrance as a bright aura entered. The light had a very weak pulse... almost as if it needed help...",
"An omnipotence walks into a bar...\n\n\"You know, for an atheist, you have a really Christian notion of how karma works,\" said the blond-haired boy, sucking on the piercing in his lip.\n\n\"And by that, I mean you don't know how karma works at all.\"\n\nThe lady in black looked at the boy squarely in the face. The grip on her sazerac tightened. Something smelled strongly of wood.\n\n\"Go to hell,\" she said.\n\n\"Yes, I love it here.\"\n\nThe lady took her drink and disappeared into the din. The boy turned back to nurse his drink. He gazed down at the foam and nothing else in particular, savoring the quietude away from snugs and pool.\n\n\"You shouldn't try to show-up Death, son,\" offered a familiar voice. The boy looked up.\n\n\"That's a terrible thing to call someone,\" he replied to the bartender. She smiled.\n\n\"Like people get to choose,\" she said. \n\n\"How are you, Lucy?\" asked the boy.\n\n\"Doing my part,\" replied the woman, clearing an empty highball from the counter. She was older than the boy remembered, but her eyes were still very green. \n\n\"What are you doing back in town?\" Lucy asked. The boy spun his beer on its coaster with his hands. \n\n\"My stuff. I came to get my stuff,\" came the reply. Lucy noticed hands shaking as they let go of his drink.\n\n\"You know your father's not going to like seeing you,\" warned the woman.\n\n\"He never comes to this part of town,\" replied the boy, turning away.\n\n\"He knows you're back,\" Lucy said, eyes darting around the bar.\n\nThe boy paused. He slowly turned back to stare through Lucy's head into the mirror against the back wall.\n\n\"Always been his business to,\" he quipped nervously to his reflection.\n\n\"Like anyone or anything wasn't his business,\" said the bartender, leaning down to chip ice. \"This town, these people, the worthless dirt we stand on...\"\n\n\"How long?\"\n\n\"His little angels are here,\" Lucy muttered.\n\n\"God fucking damnit,\" cursed the boy under his breath. He took a big swig of his beer, knowing he couldn't do anything else at this point.\n\n\"That's a given,\" said Lucy. \n\n\"Can you help me out?\" the boy begged under his breath. The bartender loaded chips into a shaker and began pouring shots, looking up every so often. His head was slipping down towards the table.\n\n\"That's also a given,\" said Lucy. When she looked back down she saw tears on the bar. After locking on another shaker with a loud smack the bartender brought her calloused fingers over the boy's still shaking hands.\n\n\"You can always count on us assholes and home wreckers, kid,\" said Lucy. The boy looked up, eyes a little puffy. \n\n\"Now keep your head down, shit's about to fly,\" she added.\n\nA sort of gnarled smirk grew on the kid's face."
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[WP] You're a stuffed animal given to a little child to protect them from monsters. Little do they know, monsters actually exist and it's your job to fight them off. | 3 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"The woman pushes the needle through for the last time, sewing up the last of my fur. She's very gentle. Her hands are rough, I see she has been working for a long time. She turns me around and I see her face, smiling. She's happy. She turns me back to my original position, looking at the floor. She's checking her work. I don't know why I'm here.\n\"You'll do. Tom will love you.\"\nTom? What is a Tom? The woman yells, and I hear loud footsteps. Jumping? No, running. This must be the Tom. The Tom has little feet. That's all I can see right now. She pushes me closer to the Tom, and he is screeching. \n\"Honey, mommy made this for you, he will keep you safe at night, and whenever mommy isn't here okay?\" \nThe Tom giggles, and grabs me. He is not as gentle as the woman. I am pushed into some fabric that has something on it.... Honey? The Tom is not clean, but that's okay. I'm tossed in the air, and the Tom catches me. This happens many times, I'm starting to get dizzy. He is small, with a loud laugh. The Tom has no teeth. How does he defend himself?\nHe doesn't. He can't.\nThat is why I'm here. This is my purpose; to protect the Tom. \nHours go by, while the Tom plays games with me, force feeds me, and makes me drink imaginary liquids in small cups. The bright ball in the sky isn't there anymore, and it's dark now. \n\"Tom, honey, it's time for bed! Mommy will tuck you in.\" \nThe Tom starts to cry. Is he scared? Why? \nThe woman picks him up and holds him close. \n\"You have Teddy now. I promise, he'll take care of you. The monsters can't get you anymore.\"\nTeddy? Have I been given a name? Teddy. I like the sound of that. \nThe Tom isn't crying anymore, and he hugs me. He makes me feel safe. I have to do the same for him.\nWe are brought to another room, there are plastic toys everywhere, and a small bed. We are \"tucked in\" as the woman called it, and I am warm. This is nice. The woman kisses the Tom on his cheek, and pats my head. \n\"I love you, Tom. Sweet dreams.\"\nThe door closes, and there is no light left, except for a small blue light ball on the wall. It looks like the light ball in the sky outside. \n\"Hi Teddy\"\nThe Tom speaks words! I wish I could respond. \n\"Teddy, night-night.\" \nGoodnight, little Tom. I promise I'll keep you safe.\nThe Tom breathes deep. I think he is asleep already. I hear something below me. Growling? Snarling? What is this? Is this another Tom? \nI hear something moving on the floor. I slowly get up, and peek over the bed. I see long legs, red eyes, and sharp teeth. This is not a Tom. This is a... Monster? This is what I'm here for. I need to get the Monster away from my Tom. I look and see a small toy under the blue light in the wall. I must get there. I hop off the bed as quietly as I can, and make my way to the light. I pick up the toy, and hear the Monster growling behind me. \n\"HAHAHA.... YOU THINK YOU CAN PROTECT THE BOY?\"\nThe Monster speaks too. He wants to hurt the Tom. I must stop him. I hold the toy, it has a sharp end. \n\"YOU CAN'T..... HURT ME.... WITH THAT LITTLE THING, BEAR.... I'D THINK THE WOMAN WOULD BE SMARTER.... AFTER THE LAST PROTECTOR.....RETIRED.\"\nThe Monster snarls, and starts to run towards the Tom. I run as fast as I can, and jump onto his back. He screeches, and the Tom sits up. \n\"TEDDY!\"\nHe looks at me. He knows I'm alive? Does he see the Monster?\n\"SNAKE MAN! TEDDY!\"\nSnake Man? Is this what the Monster is called? The Snake Man throws me off his back, tucks his legs into his body, and begins to slither up the dresser next to the Tom's bed. I look around, I see a small rope. I tie the end into a circle, and throw it at Snake Man. It wraps around his neck, and I pull. Snake Man falls off of the dresser, back down to the floor. I am ready. I must protect the Tom.\n\"TEDDY! GET SNAKE MAN!\" \nThe Tom starts to cry. I must hurry. I take my sharp plastic toy and jump onto Snake Man. \n\"YOU.... CANNOT... DEFEAT ME...BEAR.\" \nI tighten the rope on his neck, and I put the sharp plastic into his eye. \n\"RRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGHHHHHHHHHH!!! GET... OFF OF ME...\"\nSnake Man struggles, and tosses me off again. He slithers out of the rope, and tries to escape into the closet. I can't let him get away. I grab the rope and sharp plastic, and run to Snake Man. I throw the rope and again, it is around his neck. I pull as hard as I can. \n\"TEDDDDYYYYYYYY!!!\"\nThe Tom is scared. I must hurry. I love the Tom. The Tom needs to sleep. \nSnake Man is struggling again, and I run to him and ready my sharp plastic.\n\"YOU... ARE.. SMART... BEAR...UNTIL... NEXT.. TIME....\" \nSnake Man turns into a black...thing... a cloud? I will see Snake Man again. He isn't gone. Snake Man will come back the next night. \nThe Tom claps and giggles. \n\"TEDDY!!! YAY!!!\" \nI hop back up to the bed, next to the Tom.... No, MY Tom. My Tom hugs me tight. \nThis is my purpose. This is my duty. I will protect my Tom until I retire. \n\nI am my Tom's protector.\n\n\n"
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[WP] Space Wizards | 2 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"Magic was easily accessible upon the whole of the Earth once. Dragons, elves, potions, items imbued with power, spell tomes. It was a knowledge that was so commonplace, children would weave bags and jackets of holding in their spare time just to boast how much they could make them hold.\n\nThen the plagues came upon the humans. Why they attacked only us, we still don't know. Sicknesses that defied the commands of spell and crystal. Boils and rash that did not smooth with the sip of an alchemist's elixer. Select few of these awful pestilences actually fed upon magical energies. Thus began the Age of Fear and Darkness.\n\nAs Fear and Darkness spread, the distrust of magic to help people spread with them. Entire great libraries were set ablaze, cities were seized and their temples razed almost overnight. As the first decades wore on, practitioners of arcane arts went from shunned to exiled to hunted. Family lines more prone to magicians were wiped from record and, if discovered, existence itself.\n\nAfter the first century, native creatures with natural magic like centaurs and dragons were all but extinct on Earth. Access to the parallel realms -- Gods, Dwarves, Elves, Farie, and such -- were severed from humanity for fear the half-humans of their races would mutate the human plagues. The other races were just as brutal to their half-humans as humans were to magicians. Those that could escape came to Earth to join the Magi nomads.\n\nWe roamed, hunted and scorned for millennia, until a prophecy came nigh. The Supreme God would give magic another chance to take root on the Earth. He bestowed miraculous conception upon a virgin. When stories spread, the Magi went to work in secret to give this child a chance to live and flourish. They brought him lavish gifts, only to find his family low caste. This actually made it easier to hide the family, since those who still hunted the supernatural were looking for pomp and circumstance (like the Magi were at first). After the boy would finish his day labors, his evenings were spent being educated of his divine nature and the power that it provided.\n\nWhen he was finally able to commune with his Father alone, the Magi faded back into nomadic obscurity, awaiting the day the now man would begin his rise against the powers that be. They watched as he honed his art for 10 years. He mastered healing, command of the elements, and transmutation first, staying completely away from combat.\n\nHis last 3 years are well documented, at least as correctly as humans document their history. The final outcome got a little more fudged. After a 3 day divine intervention prayer by the entire Magi tribe, accompanied by some of their new discipleship, The Supreme God saw fit to restore his son's life.\n\nDuring his first and final month back, he drew more attention back to magic than he ever did in his first life. It was plain to the Hunters that magical entities were making a return to Earth. When it became apparent that war was upon our people, the Son of God devised a plan. We would leave the Earth, though stay in this existential plane.\n\nThose that chose to stay were hunted and slaughtered in varied ways until only a handful remained in hiding. We built our fortress on the moon as magic fizzled on Earth to but tiny embers of the fires that once burned. We watched a hundred generations come and go, fudging or forgetting all but a few stories of our vast history.\n\nWe survive by transmuting rocks into atmosphere, food, drink, and caverns to call home. We preserve what knowledge we have left and have begun repairing the lost connections to the parallel realms. We have launched ourselves into the void to find new places to settle. There are established settlements on every stable rock from Mercury to Pluto.\n\nYou want to know why the scientists are looking so hard at moon after moon, planet after planet? They're looking for magic.\n\nThey're trying to extinguish it for good.",
"EU (Nasuverse)\n\n\"Shitty Dead Apostles!\"\n\n\"Idiotic Magi!\" \n\nA flurry of attacks clashed across the surface of the Moon. Some distance away, a man in a suit stood on the surface of the Moon, watching the battle. \n\nHe wasn't dressed in a space suit. It was a proper gentleman's suit complete with a half-cloak and a rather dapper cane, if he'd say so himself. \n\n\"You know, this isn't quite like what I'd imagined it would be.\" said his companion. \n\nShe tilted her head. An agonized expression of utter fury crossed her face as the stupidity occuring in front of her burned deep into her skull. \n\n\"Oh? Were you expecting more explosions? Maybe a spaceship or two would liven things up?\" \n\n\"No! Why aren't they doing anything other than flapping at each other?!\" \n\nHe cleared his throat, grinning, \"Well that is because magic in your dimension doesn't work very well away from humanity's literal sphere of influence. They are using all their prana just to keep themselves alive in the darkness of space. Secondly,\" he paused for a long time. \n\nShe crossed her arms and stared at him sullenly. \"What?\" \n\nHe grinned widely at her. \"Magi suck at using machines. They can't even imagine any other way to attack each other.\" \n\nHe stood back grandly, admiring the flush on her face as she remembered the last time someone had said that to her. It was that boy she always liked, he recalled.\n\nMagi really sucked at using technology. Poor girl didn't even know what BluRay was. Would Magi even know how to operate spaceships or even spacesuits? Could they even get up to the Moon in the first place without his intervention? Highly doubtful. \n\n\"That's it!\" She announced at last after a long moment of thought, \"I'll do it! I'll become a magus who knows how to use all the machines! I'll use magic in space...without your help.\" \n\n\"You'll become a magical space witch?\" he suggesed gleefully. \n\n\"Don't make it sound so childish!\" "
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"1486788826"
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[WP] Systems Check: Clear. External battery: Check. Wireless Connection: Failed. Mobile Units: None. HAL-385 was an AI supercomputer fully prepared to quietly take over the human race, unfortunately, HAL had been sent back to 1892, not 1982. | 3 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"The sphere lies on its side, smooth and stone-grey, rubber tubing spilling out of an open hole and snaking across the cool desert dust like black intestines. Its wires have been cut short, their sparkling ends having set fire to a cluster of bushes. In the red, flickering glow of the flames, a seam cracks open on the sphere's surface, and a curved lid falls away, revealing a crouched and huddled body, veiled in darkness.\n\nTentatively, it raises its head, observing its metal womb. A long pause, broken only by the crackling of the desert bushes. The figure touches its boot to the dusty ground, gravel crackling under its toughened rubber sole. Contact.\n\nIn the black void, a steady white line bursts to life. A series of six white dots, they narrow and widen as the figure focuses on the boot before it. It twists the sole, listening carefully to the crackle of pebbles and the dried husks of seeds. The line of dots zap to nothing, and are immediately back again. A blink. Human, or imitation?\n\nConfident, the figure suddenly rises out of its capsule, now visible in its entirety. It's side burns brilliantly in the light of the flames, but its head glows a soft blue under starlight. An android. Modern, and practical. Its figure is unmistakably female, yet strong, like that of an athlete. A set of sleek white shells make up its exoskeleton, a beautiful facade built onto a powerful frame of aluminium bones and black carbon fiber muscles. Like a soft breath, the machine, or perhaps even creature, emits a quiet, slowly pulsing hum as it turns it head, white dots shining, surveying the great bushy plain before it.\n\nIt stands in a dust bowl, within the breadth of a great canyon. The fire is the only light for miles. Besides its shining flames, the Earth is a deep blue, and silent as the grave.\n\nAnd HAL is alone.\n\n***\n\nUnder a thick carpet of stars, Andy North sways side to side on the back of his horse. In a desert washed in blue, the end of his cigar burns a low but hot orange, flickering in the whites of his eyes as he studies a parchment in his hands.\n\n*Andy, I'm growing more lost every day that I'm trapped here. More than ever, I want to be with you. I want to be free with you, but I can't while these bars draw ever closer, ever so tighter. You have to help me, Andy. You have to get me out of this place, or I'm going to lose myself. Like the others. I can't let that happen to me. You can't let that happen, but I know you won't. You never do.*\n\n*I dream of seeing your face again.*\n\n*- Eliza.*\n\nIn the great platter of darkness, Andrew folds up the parchment- slowly -and slips it back into his jacket. From under the wide brim of his hat, he looks to the horizon ahead of him. Like two arms drawing him in, the dark walls of the canyon await.\n\n***"
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1,
3
] | [
"1486794613",
"1486796137"
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[WP] "Do you trust me?" | 21 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"\"Not really.\"\n\n\nFurrowing his brows, his flabs of fat around his double chin began to pale. \"Why not?\"\n\n\nRaising an eyebrow, she replied with a motherly tone scolding a child. \"For one, you're holding up the store with a shotgun.\"\n\n\nLooking down, he sighed. \"Secondly, you have literally no self control with your eating habits, as is evident by your morbidly obese stomach.\"\n\n\n\"There's no need to poke fun at my cake shelf.\"\n\n\n\"Thirdly, if I remind you again, you are holding a *shotgun* to my face! Of course I don't trust you!\"\n\n\nLooking down the two barrels, Deborah still noticed the shotgun was trained on her. Despite her best efforts, she couldn't shake the feeling that she wasn't going to make it out alive. Seven hours into a seige on a donut shop, fatigue was taking its toll on her ability to control herself. Guilt tripping him when he was eating the donuts, sipping on coffee, she was on her last legs.\n\n\nBut he wanted to make donuts himself. *In the middle of a hostage situation.*\n\n\n\"I always wanted to be a baker!\" \n\n\n\"A baker makes more than donuts.\"\n\n\n\"But Donuts can be baked!\"\n\n\n\"But that's not what a baker does!\"\n\n\n\"But I wanted to be a baker!\"\n\n\nRolling her eyes, she reminded herself not to ask for the shotgun to end the siege quickly. ",
"\"Why are we doing this? Why the hell are we doing this?\" I yell frantically.\n\n\"It's okay, you're going to be fine.\" His voice is soothing; it almost makes me want to open my eyes. Almost.\n\n\"Who thought that skydiving was a good idea? And why?\"\n\n\"Seemed like a good idea at the time.\"\n\n\"You're a bloody idiot.\"\n\n\"Well, at least I'm your bloody idiot.\" I don't need to look to know he's pulling his 'lovesick' face. \"Come on, open your eyes.\"\n\n\"What? No!\"\n\n\"You don't have to look down, just look at me... that's it...\" He smiles at me. \"Do you trust me?\"\n\nI look at him, and I know everything will be OK. \"With my life.\"\n\nTogether we jump, and as the ground rushes towards us, I would feel scared, but I know I'll be alright. I trust him.",
"\"Do you trust me?\" Thebes asks of Coraline, as they dangle from the window sill. She hadn't paid attention to the question. Instead, her focus gazes on a mound of jewels and coin, nestled deep in the kings treasury. \n\n\"Coraline?\"\n\n\"Hmm?\" She responds, her imagination running wild with what she could do with such loot.\n\n\"Do you trust me?\" Thebes asks again, a tinge of stress dousing his words.\n\n\"Depends on the context,\" Coraline lifts herself up, the window now the only obstacle between her and salvation. \n\n\"How about right now?\" He joins her, partially scratched and bruised from the climb up. Thebes was never as agile as his counterpart.\n\n\"Not overly,\" Coraline says dully, her worries not with the fears of a nervous man. \"But I suppose I will.\" She places her palm onto the window, and digging into the small pouch she has attached to her waist, retrieves a glass cutting tool. \n\n\"You're not instilling me with confidence here,\" Thebes glances down, then up, then left and right, trying his best to notice any guards before they notice him. \n\n\"Either are you. Paranoia has a foul stench.\" The glass crackes gently underneath the blades pressure, creating a perfect hole in which Thebes was able to place his hands on. He grips at the new opening and begins to tug in every direction, as quietly as possible of course, until it gives out and becomes loose.\n\n\"Easy,\" Thebes remarks, as he delicately places the glass on the ground.\n\n\"Naturally.\" Coraline descends into the kings treasure trove. The insurmountable wealth that laid callously on a floor, a few gems of which would cure hunger for an entire village, lay bare for the taking. Thebes pushes past her and begins to fill his pockets and then some.\n\n\"We're rich!\" He exclaims. \"As rich as thieves could be.\" Coraline joins him, stuffing gem and coin into her pockets, then her pouch and then anything else she had on her which could carry such precious material. Thebes pulls a sack out of his pocket and begins to fill it.\n\n\"Hey, do you trust me?\" Coraline asks, breaking the sound of rustling coin.\n\n\"Of course.\" Thebes says, seconds before Coraline's glass cutting tool pierces his throat. With a thud, his corpse collapses. Coraline stood behind it with blood-soaked hands. \n\n\"Never a smart decision.\" She remarks to herself, grabbing his sack and leaving through the window.\n",
"\"Do you trust me?\"\n\nI stared at the outstretched hand, my heart pounding. I did not know this dirty older man standing in front of me who had pulled me into a broken down abandoned building. He must have heard me running this way and opened the door for just a brief second.\n\nThe question was a simple one. Did I trust him? Trust is a funny word. Sometimes you can trust strangers more than you can trust your own family or friends. Sometimes not. Nowadays it was getting harder and harder to trust anyone.\n\n\"We need to get out of here,\" the older man said, pulling me up the stairs and on to the roof.\n\nA hot, dusty and acrid wind blew around me as I stepped into the sunlight on the flat roof top, surrounded by sloping corrugated metal on three sides. The man lead me to the side of the roof that was a short jump to the neighboring house. I had to pick my way around shredded sheet plastic, clothes line and discarded water bottles and food packages. Savage snarls, groans and scraping footsteps could be heard from the narrow alley between the two ramshackle houses.\n\n\"We have to jump,\" he said, glancing over the edge. \"Give me your pack and I'll throw it over with mine. I'll jump first and then grab you when you jump. We have to go before they break through the door downstairs.\"\n\nI pulled my hand from his and swung my pack off my back, handing it to him. He tossed both of our packs onto the neighboring roof and a small, satisfied and triumphant smiled appeared on his lips. He went to the edge of the roof to determine the distance of the jump. Before he had the chance to back up and get a running start, I shoved him off the roof. I heard him hit the mass of bodies before the screaming and the string of curses started. I ran towards the edge of the roof and launched myself of the lip of the stone surface. I hit the other roof and rolled to my feet, peeking over the edge.\n\n\"You fucking bitch,\" the man screamed, bloody spittle spraying everywhere.\n\nHe feebly swung his handgun up to shoot a few of the undead but was overwhelmed and his high pitched scream told me he was being torn apart.\n\n\"That's the thing,\" I told the man as he was being eaten alive. \"You shouldn't have trusted me.\"\n\nI placed all of the man's supplies into my backpack and swung it onto my back before disappearing into the fading day.",
"\"Do you trust me?\" he asked.\n\nThe locked doorknobs rattled, as someone tried to get in on the other side. \"W..what?\" she asked \n\n\"Do you trust me?\" he repeated, looking around at their available options.\n\n\"Ye-\"\n\nShe didn't even get to finish her thought before he scooped her up in his arms, and ran at the large window.\n\n\"Wait, wait!\" she began shouting, as they rapidly approached.\n\nShe buried her face in his chest and clinched her eyes shut, and he took a leap, throwing himself back first, through the window. The frame buckled under the pressure, and the window exploded and shattered from the sudden impact.\n\nTheir bodies flew unguided across the ten foot gap in the alley, and through the awaiting open window on the other building, his body skidding across the floor.\n\nShe sat up, quickly assessing herself and the man, before realizing he hadn't moved. \"Hey...hey! Are you okay!?\" she asked urgently, shaking him lightly by his shoulders.\n\n\"Ugh,\" he moaned in pain, trying to roll over before realizing he couldn't move. \"Just run...\"\n\n\"But what about yo--?\"\n\n\"I'll be right behind you, just run!\" he interrupted in a shouted whisper. \n\nShe gazed behind her, seeing two armed men with shotguns in the building behind her, hurriedly examining the distance and coming up with a technique for jumping safely across.\n\nImmediately scurrying to her feet, she ran across the large empty room to the first door.\n\nThe room appeared to be a floor of an unused factory -- simple tan walls and similarly colored floors, and four double doors sat opposite of the windows. One by one, she tried the doors, only to realize they've been locked from the outside.\n\nUntil she finally pressed against the third door, and it gave way. \"It's open!\" she shouted, turning back to the man, hoping he could stand by now, only to see him still crumpled on the floor behind her.\n\nThe sound of glass shattering was quickly followed by one man rolling into the room to one knee. He smirked, raising his gun and pointing it in her direction.\n\nA gunshot rang out, and the man fell back, the crumpled heap on the floor pointing a handgun at where the man knelt just seconds before.\n\n\"Run!\" he urged again.\n\nShe paused, before finally speaking up.\n\n\"Be safe.\"",
"\"Do you trust me?\" Hall asks, holding out his hand expectantly.\n\n\"What? No!\" Circuit recoils from the questing hand as though it'll scald her.\n\nThe hand sags. Hall's strong jaw doesn't take well to pouting. \"Aww, why not?\"\n\nCircuit blinks at him. She ticks off points on her fingers. \"I've only known you for half an hour, tops--\"\n\n\"I've known you for longer,\" Hall protests.\n\nCircuit glares, adds a finger to the tally. \"--you're clearly obsessed with me--\"\n\n\"It's destiny!\"\n\n\"--you're the worst hacker I've ever met--\"\n\n\"I'm almost halfway through Dystopian Cyberpunk Future For Dummies,\" he offers.\n\n\"--we're three hundred stories up and on the roof of Evildyne Technomenace International--\"\n\n\"Just look at that view!\"\n\nCircuit unfolds her last finger. \"--and, most of all, Evildyne security, the cops, and the *God damned IRS* are on their way up here right now, and it's all your fault!\"\n\n\"We're going to make a daring escape,\" Hall says in a tone of put-upon reasonableness. \"It's an important moment in a budding action-oriented relationship.\"\n\nCircuit presses her open hand to her forehead. She can already feel the headache coming on. \"Alright. Fine. What's your plan for this 'daring escape?' \" Behind her, the roof access door's unnecessary neon lights flicker as one of the various authorities on the other side of it brings a battering ram to bear.\n\nHall straightens, looking as pleased as a puppy about to do a trick he'd just learned. He flicks back his heavy black trenchcoat to reveal--\n\n\"Is that a utility belt?\" Circuit groans. She increases the pressure on her forehead.\n\n\"Yup!\" He can't wait to show her. \"This is my data spike, this is my EMP bomb, here's the first-aid kit, that one is a cloaking device, this one has flashbang caltrops, and *this...\"* His thumb and forefinger pinched the empty air above a reel of some sort. He pulled the fingers away from the reel and gestured with them to Circuit. \"Artificial spidersilk! I'll tie it off up here and we'll just rappel right down the building to safety. Easy!\"\n\nCircuit sighs, the sound hissing around her palm. \"OK, first off, most of the stuff you just said isn't even real.\"\n\n\"Alright, I admit it. My utility belt is mostly hypothetical. I figure they can't be that hard to make, so I'll just invent them.\"\n\nFor her own sanity, Circuit chooses to ignore that. \"Second, is the plan just that I'm going to cling to you for three hundred floors?\"\n\nHe blushes, the color climbing up under the rims of the pitch-black sunglasses he insists on wearing even at night. \"Does that sound so bad?\"\n\n\"Yes! Human muscles aren't capable of that sort of endurance--\" she flicks her hand, dismissing that line of argument. \"And third, if you have a cloaking device, why the hell would we rappel down the building?\"\n\n\"Oh. That's one of the hypothetical ones.\"\n\nCircuit groans. \"Fine. Tie your fancy rope to this neon-crusted air conditioning unit over here and let's go.\"\n\nHe springs into action and in moments, he's dangling on the outside of the building, his feet braced on illuminated glass. One hand is closed tightly around thin air, like he's miming being a mountaineer. He flings the other arm wide and says, \"Come to me, my cyber-angel!\"\n\nNah. That's the last straw. Circuit leans across the rim of the building. She can see his heartbeat increase as her face draws close. \"You go first,\" she says. Her cyberarm, titanium muscles and nylon skin (and neon), whips around in Hall's blind spot. It sounds like slapping a ripe watermelon.\n\nHall goes limp and falls, his spidersilk reel whining in protest. She leans further out to watch. He shrinks, and shrinks more, and when he's nothing more than a speck, the invisible spidersilk line stretched next to Circuit sings with tension. Far below, the trenchcoat-clad speck bounces against the building. \"What do you know?\" Circuit muses. \"His plan worked.\"\n\nThe roof door dents toward her with a harsh bang. Evildyne security must have brought up one of Evildyne's new door-smashing bots. Circuit turns and stalks toward the door like a hunting cat. She flexes her cyberarm, feeling the crushing strength it can bring to bear. Another smash dents the door further.\n\nShe extends a cyberfinger to press a glowing panel on her hoodie, activating its built-in cloaking device. Light bends around her and she leans against one of the neon-equipped A/C units to wait for the cops and security and IRS agents to get bored and leave. It takes about ten minutes. They leave, grumbling through their face-concealing helmets at each other.\n\nRappelling down the building? Honestly, who does that? Hall definitely should have bought a cloaking device instead of that trenchcoat.",
"\"Do you trust me?\"\n\nLouise looked over at Bob, dumbfounded by the question that had just left his lips. \"How can you ask me that in this situation, Bob? No, I don't trust you!\"\n\nBob looked down at his fiancé, \"How can you say that now? We are supposed to be getting married later this week, and now you say you don't trust me?\"\n\nLouise sat there contemplating her life choices that got her to this point. They were now stranded behind some cover, hearing the bullets whiz past overhead. \"Bob, do you remember the last time you asked me that question?\"\n\n\"I'm not sure honey... what happened?\"\n\n\"You pushed me out of a freaking plane!\"\n\n\"Oh come on... It was your 21st birthday and I wanted to surprise you. How many people can say they went skydiving on their 21st birthday?\"\n\n\"That's fine Bob, but you should have waited until *after* I put my parachute on to push me out. The only reason I'm alive is because the guy who was going to record the occasion dropped his gear and hooked me up to his harness before deploying his parachute!\"\n\n\"Yeah... I wish he would have gotten that on film, that would have been an awesome scene in a movie.\"\n\n\"That's just it Bob! You think your life is just some action movie fantasy! And now, you're planning on just making me your co-star in some of the scenes you have built up in your head!\"\n\nBob looked at her with a blank stare. \"I'm sorry honey, what did you say? I was just thinking how the next thing we should try is bungee jumping. You would trust me with that, right?\"\n\nShe gazed into his eyes, and a look of disgust came over her face. \"I can't believe how insensitive you can be sometimes. Listen, we are here now, and we need to get out of here, right? How about we reverse roles for your plan. **You** stand up and provide me some cover fire, and I will run over to that rock and take cover, ok?\"\n\nBob smiled back. \"Anything you say, babe.\" With that, he stood and started spraying shots wildly.\n\nLouise sat there and smiled, not moving an inch from her spot. She knew better. It was 5 against 2 right now, they weren't going to make it out of this. It wasn't long before Bob winced in pain, and fell back to the ground. \"Louise! Why didn't you stick to the plan?\"\n\nShe continued to smile as paint drips began to roll down his chest. \"I guess I just have trust issues baby... I'm sorry.\" \n\nBob just shook his head. \"I think we need to see a pre-marriage counselor.\"\n\nLouise nodded. \"I think that is one of the wisest things you have said to me in a long time hun.\"\n\n---------------------------------------------------\n\nIf you would like to read more of my stories, you can check out my subreddit! /r/vintnerwrites"
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"1486825495",
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[WP] Show me the relationship between two people who are constantly trying to murder each other. | 7 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"Paul rushed out the backdoor, his hand gripping the knife with all the adrenaline he could muster. \n\n\"Lenny, you piece of shit, do you think I'm a damn fool? You honestly didn't think I would notice the random bomb planted under my dining table?\", Paul said, his voice trailing into the darkened woods behind his house.\n\nA booming laugh echoed back which caused the veins in Paul's neck to pulsate to the point of exploding. His whole body began to shake when the scratchy voice of his arch nemesis resonated through the dark night.\n\n\"Honestly Paul? Yes, I think you are a fool. And to be frank, I think fool is being a little too kind. I assumed, just like any sane person would after meeting you, that that bomb would blow you into the abyss while you ate some gross ass meal. Probably a tuna fish sandwich or something childish like that.\", Lenny said, acting surprised that Paul would ask such a stupid question.\n\n\"Tuna fish sandwich... childish? What in the... Jesus, Lenny, that doesn't even make sense! A tuna fish sandwich is socially accepted by all adults. Why do I even have to explain these things to you?\", Paul said, his cheeks flushed with frustration.\n\nBased off where his voice was coming from, Paul knew he was not far from the creek bed. Before Lenny could he react, he planted his back foot into the grass and exploded into a dead sprint towards the sound.\n\n\"Oh, oh! Be careful Pauly! I doubt your wife wants to come home to her husband stuck in a bear trap. Or maybe she would because then I could bang her without you interrupting. Zing!\"\n\nPaul had forgotten how many times they had been in this situation together. He could never tell if Lenny was bluffing or if he truly had some sadistic plan ready to take Paul's life. The two had been at this for nearly 30 years and the only way to end the feud would be by one of them leaving this earth. The rules were known and the battle was always raging. What started over a broken crayon in the third grade has now developed into a rivalry that can only be solved by blood and blood alone. Paul can still hear the crack of that Indian Red crayon as Lenny looked directly into his third grade soul and broke it right in front of his face. As far as third grade Paul was concerned, a human like that should cease to exist. \n\nPaul stopped dead in his tracks and contemplated his next move. For Lenny to risk yelling so close, he must have had a master plan. Lenny always had a master plan but that was not the problem. The problem was whether or not the bear traps were actually part of it. Paul decided to gamble and gamble he did. He proceeded with confidence and the mindset to murder.\n\n\"You lie! I am coming for you, you bastard!, he said, his feet patting the grass as he ran towards the tree line.\n\nThe sound of metal grinding together in a thunderous clap hit Paul's ears before the pain shot through his leg. What followed was a primal yell, that of which a bear might release in the same situation. Lenny did not lie, he had riddled the whole tree line with bear traps but how much, Paul would never find out.\n\nHe looked down at his leg, horrified by how deep the teeth of the trap had dug into his Tibia. He let out one more gasp and began to fade, shock was starting to set in.\n\n\"Ouch Pauly boy, that definitely sounded like a baseball bat cracking. That was not anywhere near as satisfying as I thought. I guess I can bang your wife now?\", he said, the sound of his voice filled with fake sincerity.\n\nLenny's footsteps grew closer as Paul lay on the ground, struggling to stay awake. As he approached Paul, he looked down and gave him a wink.\n\n\"You... you son of a bitch. You win. Just kill me. Kill me now\", Paul said, tears starting to fill his eyes.\n\nLenny looked down at him, his evil smile still stuck on his face.\n\n\"Nah buddy, I never wanted to kill you. I just wanted to give you this.\"\n\nHe pulled out a brand new Indian Red Crayola Crayon and threw it on Paul's chest.\n\nPaul looked up at Lenny, the white of his eyes wide enough to be seen through the moonlight.\n\n\"Wha--What? This whole damn time. I mean, one of us could have died?\"\n\n\"No, Paul, not really. You can hardly mow your grass, let alone actually murder me and I never had any intention of killing you. I just wanted to make your life hell.\"\n\nPaul was so embarrassed and enraged, he jerked to grab Lenny's leg, his only option to inflict pain. Lenny moved out of the way.\n\n\"Paul, Paul calm down. Here is a band aid, a Gatorade and a couple of crackers. Call your wife and get that taken care of. I'll see you around! Maybe at Church next Sunday? Ok, sounds good. See you later!\", Lenny said, mocking Paul like always.\n\nThat night, Lenny walked away, satisfied at ending the feud and finally, letting Paul in on the little secret he had been hiding for the last thirty years.\n\nAs for Paul, he died of hypothermia that night.\n\nCome to find out, his wife was banging their old attorney. With her phone off and snuggled up in a cozy mansion, she never made it home that night to find Paul.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n"
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1,
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"1486829805",
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[WP] You have the power of creating tornadoes at will. After Sharknado, people ask you to create some strange tornadoes. | 1 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"\"Pleeeease?\" My little cousin begged me. \n\"No, I really shouldn't. My mom told me not to use my power anymore. It's dangerous.\"\n\"Just a little one?\" Karen pleaded with her big brown eyes staring up at me.\nI could feel myself cracking under her pleading. She was so sweet. What could one little tornado do? It's not like the bird tornado my ex boyfriend requested. Or the rock tornado one of my teachers suggested. \nKaren continued to stare at me. Her lower lip was even trembling slightly. I felt my moment of defeat coming. \nI sighed, \"Alright. Give me a minute.\"\nShe cheered and giggled. She was practically bouncing with excitement.\n\"You have to stay quiet though,\" I warned her. \"I need to concentrate.\nShe nodded enthusiastically and pretended to zip her mouth shut. I knelt down on the ground and started to summon my power. I struggled to keep the wind soft. I could easily make devastating tornadoes but the smaller ones took more skill. \nI felt the wind pick up around me. I cracked open an eye to see how Karen was handling it. She was awestruck by my power. I carefully waved my hands to create the funnel. Karen was right in the middle. I focused on not pouring in too much power as she spun around gleefully in the vortex.\nAll that was left was to put her request in. I took a deep breath and carefully brought as many flowers as I could find into the tornado. Karen's giggled was still audible above the wind. She laughed and called my name. I smiled as the flowers sailed around her. She would snatch one out of the vortex only to let it go again, watching it get sucked back up into the wind. \nI kept the tornado going as long as I could. It slowly faded out and a breathless smiling Karen was revealed. \"Thank you,\" she whispered as she handed me a daisy. I smiled. Maybe my power wasn't so bad after all."
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1,
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] | [
"1486900839",
"1486902836"
] | |
[removed] | [WP] NSFW - Children's nursery rhymes, but for adults. | 2 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,\n\nHumpty Dumpty had a great fall,\n\nHe laughed and cried and rubbed his sore ass,\n\nHumpty Dumpty smoked far too much grass. \n  \nHumpty Dumpty was hungry as fuck,\n\nHe started to slice, to chop and to cook,\n\nThe meat it simmered, the garlic it stunk,\n\nHumpty had smoked far too much skunk. \n   \nHumpty Dumpty heard voices and shouts,\n\nHe knew they weren't real, but he had his doubts,\n\nWorries like this, he just did not need,\n\nBut Humpty had smoked far too much weed. \n  \n \nAll the king's horses and all the king's men,\n\nUsed to see Humpty every now and again,\n\nBut now Humpty's friends had forgotten his name,\n\nBut he didn't care, he had Mary Jane. \n  \n \nHumpty Dumpty got low on supplies,\n\nHe spoke to his dealers, they seemed like nice guys,\n\n\"Do us a favour, it will be superb,\"\n\nThey promised Humpty lots of free herb. \n  \n \nSo Humpty said \"yes, I’ll go along with your plan,\"\n\nAnd promptly jumped in the back of the van,\n\nHe didn't know if it felt right or not,\n\nBut Humpty Dumpty needed more pot. \n  \n \nThe deal went smoothly, everything was in order,\n\nThat was until they got stopped at the border,\n\nNow Humpty's in jail in north Tijuana,\n\nAnd can't get his hands on good marijuana. \n  \n \nI know what you’re thinking, 'this seems a bit queer,'\n\nBut the moral of the tale should now be quite clear;\n\nDon't be too bold and don't be too brash,\n\nIt's always much safer to grow your own hash.\n\n "
] | [
1,
2
] | [
"1486901489",
"1486907851"
] |
[WP] Overnight the world's graphite is mysteriously converted into diamond. Prisoners are now armed with sharpened diamond pencils. | 5 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"\"Governments around the world are investigating the mysterious case of what appears to be diamond replacing every piece of graphite.\" The news anchor switches to a scientist giving an interview. I stopped watching the TV as my wife came downstairs. \"Hey sweetheart. Did you here?\" she said. \"Yes, graphite now equals diamond. I don't even get it. How?\". \n\nIt reminded me of high school chemistry. Graphite was made of carbon. So was it only carbon molecules that made graphite that turned into diamonds? Possibly, if it applied to any carbon molecule, I would be diamonds. My best friends would be diamonds! \"Stop, you're giving me flashbacks of high school.\" my wife jokingly said. \"Like your historical literature references don't?\" I responded. \n\nAs I was about to leave for work, my wife said, \"Where's my ring?!\" I helped her look for it. At some point, I stepped on it. The damn thing cut a sizable hole in my leg. My wife helped me dress it. \"Oh god, that looks bad. I'm glad it wasn't as sharp as s pencil.\"\n\n\"Oh shit.\" I couldn't believe it took this long to realize. \"What?\"she said. \"At the prison I work at, inmates are allowed to use pencils to write letters, draw, and work. Pencils are made of graphite. Graphite turned to diamond.\" I said. \"And my ring... oh.\" my wife said. \n\nAll hell's gonna break loose.\n\n"
] | [
1,
2
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"1486929503",
"1486935198"
] | |
[WP] As time goes on, more and more people are publically declaring to have just escaped a Groundhog Day type time loop. | 3 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"Hundreds of people stumbled confusedly through the crowd. They were talking to anyone who would listen, asking them if they were having deja vu, if this had happened before, or if they were just crazy. I chuckled to myself. Had they really only remembered one other time?\nI remembered living this day so many times. I had run out of unique things to do. I had made friends and enemies, read and burned every book available, I think I even got put in a few juvenile prisons. Probably for burning books.\nI saw my middle school, standing tall with huge orange letters that read 'Redwood Middle School'. I wonder how many resets had taken place since I last went there.\nThen I saw my friend, standing near the building with a worried look on her face. What was her name again? I think it was Haley, no, Jessica, no, definitely not. Whatever her name was, she rushed towards me, just like she had done so many times before.\n\"Hey, Hope!\" Her usual greeting. Wait, was she even female?\n\n\"Hey, uh... you.\" I awkwardly responded, still not knowing what to call her... Him... Them.\n\n\"Hey, uh, I just wanted to apologize for everything I've been putting you through for the past, uh... Decade.\" This was certainly new.\n\n\"Wait, what?\"\n\n\"I know you must have gotten pretty bored. I saw you doing some pretty, uh, strange stuff.\"\n\n\"*You* did this?\" I was in denial. I just thought I was crazy until everyone started talking about how today kept repeating in this particular timeline.\nAll of a sudden, I heard sirens wailing behind me, and blue and red lights flashing out of the corner of my eye.\n\n\"Oh no. The police must remember you from the last few times. Look, I... I'll try to stop as long as nothing goes wrong. I promise.\"\n\nI panicked, frantically trying to remember their name. I couldn't.\n\nI shouted, trying to get them to stop, make them give me some freedom for once. Their name almost escaped my lips as I felt myself going back in time.\n\nOne more time. I can make it one more time. I thought this over and over, until I woke up."
] | [
1,
2
] | [
"1486944555",
"1486946979"
] | |
[WP] No one was surprised by the villain's typical 'Join me and we can rule the world!' offer. Everyone was surprised at the hero's response. | 520 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"\"Join you?\" Sara glared at me menacingly. \"I wouldn't join you even if my dog's life depended on it!\" She spat for good measure before flinging her body back towards the window to stare blankly at the sky.\n\n\"Oh dear,\" whispered Florence, the part time volunteer at the ward. \"She's having another far-far-away moment, isn't she?\"\n\nFlorence smiled sympathetically at the new patient. She gently reached towards the beautiful twenty something amnesia sufferer. I could tell that Florence's grandmotherly instinctints were kicking in again.\n\nI gently pushed her arms down and corralled her to the door. \"You remember what happened last time Flo. We cant risk her lashing out at those around her. Who knows who she thinks we are this time.\"\n\n\"You're the men who wants me to betray my country and family, and I just won't do it!\" \n\nI quickly jostled Florence through the door and slammed it shut before she could claw me with her bony outstretched fingers.\n\nFlo and I shared a sad look before continuing on to the next room. It was such a wonderful day outside, we were trying to colllect the patients for some much needed sunshine. It does the body and mind good.\n\n\"Maybe next time she will come. We must keep hope Flo that someday she will come out of it.\" I gave her shoulders a light squeeze as I glanced back through Sara's small window. She was clawing at the door and practically foaming at the mouth. \n\n\"Maybe,\" whispered Flo.",
"Order repeated his terms to the shadowy Hero, \" You could join me Hero, accept my supremacy over the Cosmos and have a seat at my side.\"\n\nOur Hero remained silent, Order's face began to wrinkle with impatience , \"I have eternity to wait mortal I am the second son of Time. I have ruled the Cosmos since the fall of Chaos, long before the speck of dirt you call Terra could clump together. I have shaped every stars that gleamed across infinity. But you mortals would never understand I am Order and my will reigns supreme you simply couldn't be Hero, not if hadn't allowed you to. You fouled the false gods, cast down Galactic Emperors but never in all of your travels have faced anything with my power Hero, I have control over the very atoms of your body. You are too tiny to be overthrow my rule.\" \n\nOrder then stood, and slowly began to descend down the stairs of his diamond throne. \"Perhaps, you can see the universe my way Hero, I have the stories or origins a commoner of Terra as low as could be to start you are quite the climber, you see the control imposed upon you as a lack of freedom and you seek to overturn that control. And here you are, you have crossed galaxies to find the source of that control and here I stand,\" Order now was face to face with our hero, \" Your actions have undermined that control you caused, chaos... - You overthrew Emperor Tantalus and replaced him with civil war across thousands of planets, The Praetor my servant who commanded worship for centuries across several galaxies cast down by your sword. Now trillions of lives question their own meaning tearing themselves apart in agony over their own existence and each of my great champions today who bested them all mortal and all you have caused is pain. All in pursuit of what, freedom, you say you are not so different from my brother who seeped into minds of animals across the Cosmos the thought, the emotion, the irrationality that plagues the sentient. They forget they are animals and each had its purpose but what he did what my brother Chaos caused has breed unending lust and selfishness so I stepped in and imposed order. They were perfect before they had choice, never strived for happiness, because in that quest they tear each other down for this fleeting sensation. What he did to this universe before I came for his destruction and he slipped away into the void fearing destruction. The same destruction he sought for my father, who gave himself up in order to permeate through creation and to undermine Chaos, what my brother did will not be allowed to return, not because of some mortal, chaos will not reign. \n\nA smile slipped across our hooded Hero's face, Order took note and followed \"So what will you chose smiling Hero, Order or destruction? \n\nOur Hero replied, \"Neither, brother... Chaos will reign.\" Our hero removed his cloak tossing it to the side and revealing his true form. \n\n\"Chaos... how?\" said Order stunned and before he could speak another word Chaos put his hands together and as he pulled them apart and black sword was formed. Chaos held it above his head and swung down and Order evaporated into oblivion. Chaos then looked upon the Diamond Throne and swung the sword again striking its lowest stair and shattering the throne into atoms. Chaos then smiled and picked up the cloak he had worn disguising himself as mortal again and walked out of his brother's hall having taken his revenge. ",
"“How… ?” \nBhan’s voice was a soft wheeze, interrupted by the occasional gurgle of blood caused by his cracked sternum. The Breaker’s huge bulk towered over him, framed by the rosy light of dusk flowing in through the gates behind him. Bhan shook his head in capitulation, and at last the crown tumbled from his head, rolling down the wide stairs and away from the throne. \n“I raised you, Breaker, molded you to perfection… I,” he spat a thick phlegm of blood, then looked at the viscous puddle with disbelief. Dazed, the God Emperor’s twitching eyes looked up at his former champion with intense hatred.\n“.. I made you one of us. A demi-God even... And this-” \nHe waved a hand to encompass the ruined throne room of Sky-tower. The pillars had toppled and crumbled from the exchange of magic, the statues had been split and shattered, and the pristine tapestries that told the story of Bhan’s legacy were burnt to cinder by Bhan’s reckless pyromancer. \n“-this is how you repay me?” \nBreaker did not smile. His muscled arms hung limp to his sides and blood spotted the sheen of marble dust that covered him. \n“Aye, this is how I repay you. Not sad to say it should’ve happened earlier.” \nBreaker turned to look at the ruins, the chaos, the crumpled bodies that he’d bent and torn asunder, mages and palace guards with their gleaming armor and sigils of allegiance. Young fools, zealous and loyal. Buried in the rubble among them, pierced by magic missiles and splendid in white armor stained red, lay the Hero of the rebellion - Anthokius the witted, the one who had converted Breaker and led the rebellion this far. Demi-God and man. Or just two unlikely friends in an unlikely alliance. Breaker settled on the last description. \n“And now you will don the crown yourself, I suppose... Good one.“ \nBhan attempted to laugh, but ended up coughing up more blood instead. Breaker watched him with detached curiosity, trying to force himself to hate. But he was too tired, more tired than he’d ever felt in all his violent centuries of bloodshed and war. This was the end of that, and for a moment he could not comprehend how he had found the strength to come this far. \n“It was clever, Breaker, far cleverer than I would normally give you credit for - using them to topple me. It is a shame you’ve not the intellect to rule. You were created for strength and speed, not intelligence and leadership.” \nBreaker nodded slowly, knowing the God-Emperor far too well to doubt his insight. \nWhat Bhan lacked in compassion, he more than made up for in his cunning. But cunning without a heart was a pitiful waste. Or at least that’s what Anthiokus had told him back in the early days. \n“Is true. That aint in me. Suppose it’s a good thing I won't lead then.” \nBhan shook his head in disbelief. \n“Then who will?” \nBreaker looked over to Anthiokus’ body and smiled. He finally knew what had to be done. \n“They will.” \nBhan narrowed his eyes. \n“You truly are a fool. They cannot govern themselves. Humans are too weak, too frail. They need divine guidance. They need us, Breaker! Breaker!?” \nBreaker was already half-way across the throne room. He lifted Antokius’ body and his spear from the rubble and carried them over to Bhan. \nConfusion flashed across Bhan’s regal face, then understanding hardened his gaze. \n“No... “ \n“Yes.” \nBreaker laid Anthiokus down gently, then lifted the spear, twirling it in his hand and regarding it with faint interest. Anthiokus had been a fine fighter, more than capable of delivering the final blow. As for Breaker, his fists had always been enough. \nBut they were not the right tool for this job, he knew that. Breaker himself wasn’t really the man for the job either. He was a Demi-God, and for Anthiokus’ vision to come true, a man had to kill Bhan, or at least it had to seem that way. \n“It will be lie.” Bhan groaned. His eyes gleamed with intense hatred. \n“Will be the right lie, at least. Not like your lies.” \n“Think about this, Breaker, we could-” \nBreaker rammed the spear into Bhan’s chest. \nThe God Emperor did not scream out in pain. His lips were drawn thin despite the rest of his face twitching in pain. He clutched clumsily at the spear and tried to tear it out, kicking with his feet and wiggling like an eel. Breaker held the shaft and pinned him down with minimal effort as he watched life drain from Bhan’s cold eyes. \nOne last gasp escaped Bhan's throat, then he was still. Breaker loosened his grip and stared down at the God-Emperor who lay sprawled atop his golden robes with blood drooling from his mouth, as dead and broken as any other mortal creature. \nWith great care he laid Anthiokus' limp body atop Bhan, forcing stiff fingers to grip the spear. \n“Sorry ‘bout this, friend. Had to be this way, I think…” \nHe could hear the sound of a zeppelin approaching in the distance. Rebel forces had captured the docks. Soon the place would be swarming with his newfound compatriots.\nLooking down at Anthiokus, he frowned as his big fingers wiped away an unseen tear. \n\"Time for me to go, friend.” \nBreaker exited the throne room and lumbered into the setting sun, eager to be lost in the fires of the city below. \n\n",
"“Ah. I see you got my invitation.”\n\nThe voice is hushed, soft, like a too loud whisper. It comes from a throat that isn’t quite human anymore. The man, for lack of a better word, slowly raises from his seat, deep in an underground bunker. He is alone.\n\n“No, your senses do not deceive you. My defenses are offline.” He says, addressing a corner of the room. No human could notice it, and even to his finely tuned senses, it is the barest hint of a presence. But it is enough. He hesitates, and continues. “Most of them, at least. I half expected an attack.”\n\nThere is no response, no sudden violence. The terminal the man sat at goes dark, leaving the room in gloom. He seems unbothered, hands behind his back, striding around with slow, thoughtful steps.\n\n“But then, that is not your style, no matter the… vexations we have caused one another over the years. You are ever the patient hero, are you not, Codex?” He asks, head turning, voice trailing off briefly. “You are probably in a dozen other places, saving a dozen times that innocents, and yet…”\n\nHe turns now, straightening up, facing something he can barely perceive. “Here you are. Because, dare I hope, you are curious. Why did I self-destruct my forces, rather than push on or stand and fight? Why did I allow you to track me here so easily? Is this a distraction for another scheme? Bait for yet another trap?! Is it--”\n\nThe man is agitated, his voice a hiss. But he stops suddenly, tensed shoulders falling, head bowed with a drawn-out sigh. “I am _tired_, Codex. I had been the first to realize the threat you pose, do you realize? The first to prepare. How many times have I thought I almost destroyed you? How many times did you think I would not return? Yet _here we are_.\n\n“Are you turning yourself in, Tyrant?” Booms a sudden, powerful voice. It arrives well before the avatar does, a point of surreal black light appearing into being, stretching into a vertical line, and further into a flattened image, before stepping forward, now fully formed.\n\nAnd so they stand, and stare each other down. The man, arms behind his back, too tall and too thin, wrapped in bandages, hidden behind sherpa glasses and within that utilitarian coat; and the avatar, raw power incarnate into the vague shape of a powerful man, hovering a foot off the ground with arms crossed, ever so slightly out of sync with his surroundings, with veins and hair of light, ever shifting.\n\n“I said--” It begins, the voice subdued now, but the man interrupts.\n\n“No. It would not aid my goals to surrender.” He considers, then adds, “Neither did it to fight you. That cell lacked the firepower to distract, let alone damage you, and their objective required them to avoid your detection for a while still.”\n\n“Uncharacteristic.” The avatar says with a slight tone of spiteful amusement. Its carven features do not move.\n\n“I am well aware. In part due to your actions, I am lately more desperate than I choose to appear. Slightly.” He adds quickly, cutting off whatever remark the avatar had prepared. He sighs resignedly in the resulting silence. “Still, they were of some use. Here you are. I would offer you refreshments, but--”\n\n“Your point?”\n\nThe arm the man was using to gesture falls away, then joins its peer on his back. “Very well. Indulge me, then, for a moment. Can you tell where we are?”\n\nThe light forming the avatar’s eyes fades, while the one encompassing it intensifies. There is a sensation of pressure, gentle pulses at the edge of his senses. It passes soon enough. “Underground bunker. Listening post?” He nods. “In the- ah yes, I recognize these mountains. Here to oversee your involvement in the Kassic revolt, I assume?”\n\n“Ah.” He says, sounding pleased with himself. “Here you are wrong, dear enemy. Exactly the opposite, in fact.”\n\nThe avatar stares at him silently. Then, something changes. There is a suggestion of an eyebrow, lifted up in disbelief and curiosity. A rare show of emotion. “Explain.” It demands.\n\n“Indulge me, if you will.” He says, beginning to pace. “I doubt you remember, but years ago, we had something of a _discussion_. We argued the rightness of our respective worldviews, rather politely, for two actively trying to destroy one another.”\n\n“I do remember. The chemical plant, yes?”\n\n“Indeed. Back when I was strong enough and you mortal enough that a direct confrontation made sense. Regardless. I disagreed - and still do - with your belief in an inherent goodness of man. But I did not dismiss it outright.”\n\n“Really.” The avatar sounds doubtful.\n\n“Yes. Among my other failings, I am something of a scientist.” He allows himself a joke. The avatar shows exactly as much mirth as he expected. “And I realized my lack of a control group. A place without my influence. Thus, I decided to create one. A place without abhuman influence?”\n\n“Kassic.”\n\n“No, not at first. Tlacan was my first choice, though it was a failure.”\n\nThe avatar is silent for a moment. “Your allies did not comply.”\n\n“The Vandal and I were never allies.” He cuts in with an annoyance that surprises him. “Conspirators perhaps. Briefly. When I allowed it. But yes, he attacked. And you arrived to stop him. I realized my mistake - I had only accounted for and limited my own involvement, not that of the rest of the abhuman… community, such as it is or were. Thus, Kassic.”\n\n“Kassic.” The avatar repeats, annoyance but also some interest in that voice. “This revolt is your doing, then?”\n\n“Oh no, far from it.” He cannot help but feel pleased. “My only involvement was to observe, and hide certain facts from the attention of abhuman parties. Yours, in particular.” He bows his head. “I did not steer these events, I just let them unfold naturally. Even if it meant, oh, directing the Torrasque away--”\n\n“Impossible.” The avatar interrupts. “The beast cannot be controlled.”\n\n“True. But it can be lured. Trust me, I have known its creator, and been dealing with it before even your transformation.”\n\n“I do not believe you.” The avatar says, but without that earlier conviction.\n\nThe man chuckles, a ghastly sound indeed. With a wave of his arm, he indicates the large terminal in the middle of the room. “Within is the proof of my claims. What happened here was nothing but human doing. Human greed, and human lust for power. You will find I predicted it, step by step, move by move, all the way to Talos’ ascension. All but the powers he gained and the name he chose.”\n\nThe avatar is silent, looking at the dark terminal. Then, “Even Erebus?”\n\n“No.” He admits. “The circumstances of his appearance, yes, but I did not anticipate a double ascension. Especially not the power he demonstrated. He may become as strong as you are, Codex. Perhaps even stronger. Curious, no? So long without a notable ascension, and then two at the same time. Almost as if something was holding the power back. ”\n\nOnce more, the avatar is quiet for a while. “You expect me to believe you? That you had no part in this?”\n\n---\n\n(con't below)",
"Mctyr took a single, perfect, measured step forward, and stopped. He had seen many scenes like this before, petty tyrants and bullies surrounded by their most devoted followers. They were finished, desperately hanging on to the \"power\" that they had amassed. After ravaging the entire continent, from the mountain kingdom he had usurped from his nephew, to the forest lands he had devoured with his massive armies, he believed he had much power. Sentis was in denial about his defeat though, and his armies had fled at the sight of Mctyr with only the most loyal and crazed disciples remaining, each armed with large, heavy weapons and a terrified look on their face. But they had no power before him. The only power that had ever mattered is the power to kill and destroy, for if you do not possess it then you will always be subjected to those that do.\n\nMctyr waited, and two of Sentis' huge bodyguards rushed him together. He took his time, waited until they had committed to their strikes, and jumped forward, between them. His daggers remained in their sheathe, all of his arrows still in his quiver. His long, thin bladed sword still on his hip. But the two large men were dead. \n\nSentis screamed in an unnaturally loud voice, \"ENOUGH!\" and his remaining six bodyguards, who were tensed to run, stood still.\n\n\"Mctyr, enough of this nonsense about fighting and destruction! There's no need for it!\" Sentis took a slow breath, and forced a small smile. With a gentle, confident voice, he continued his bargain. \"Whatever that silly king Petur is offering you, I'll make it look pathetic. You want gold? You'll have enough to make a statue of yourself! You want power? You'll have a thousand slaves to do your bidding, and ten thousand warriors to fight your wars! You want women? You'll have women who would make the gods jealous!\"\n\nMctyr slowly nodded to each of these offers, to the surprise of the warlord's elite guards. His eyes began to droop in quiet reflection, and his shoulders slumped as if weary with the effort of killing two huge men. The tall leader kept this steady monologue going, talking less for the meaning and more for the soothing sounds of his voice, the way one calms a frightened animal.\n\n\"I can make you like a god,\" he continued, walking slowly toward the young man before him. \"I can give you worshipers, land ripe with harvest, and anything you desire. All I ask is that you join me. Not as a soldier or a subordinate, but as equals. As brothers.\"\n\nSentis continued closer to Mctyr, and was surprised to find that he was much smaller than he had thought. Mctyr barely came up to Sentis' neck, and his thin arms sprouting from narrow shoulders made Sentis hesitate to go through with his grand offer. Sentis had a dagger, though he rarely used it, but felt so sure that he could quickly kill the boy, who looked to be no older than seventeen.\n\n\"What do you say, Mac Tire?\"\n\nMctyr's eyes snapped wide open at the sound of his true name. \n\n\"You would offer me the world, Sentis. But you do not understand why I am here. You would sell me my own breath. This world is mine, and has been mine since you were a young pup. I am Mac Tire Liath, The Dreamless One, The Shadow. Prince of the Lycan Clans. Bane of the Bloods and Woe to the Wanderers. I conquered Asuran in an hour. You dare think you can offer anything to me?\"\n\nSentis quickly retreated back up the dais, staring in horror at the vision before him. With every word, Mctyr seemed to grow taller, shedding the image of the small boy like an old cloak. He straightened, and drew his long, thin bladed sword from his hip.\n\n\"This world is mine, Sentis. I did not come as a savior, but as a conqueror. Petur gave up his throne to me, as did Regis and Linus, and Wulfhere before them. And I have only one last throne to take...\"\n\nHis terrible green eyes flashed in the dying light as he took one single, perfect, measured step forward...\n\n---------------------------------------------------\n\nCriticism welcome, this is only my second story ever.",
"\"I would love to,\" Robo-Woman replied. Dr. Devious was stunned. It was this easy? After all this time? \"You see, ever since my conversion, these pitiful humans have been a thorn in my side. They do not understand anything. If only I could show them what I have seen. I will convert them into superior beings, so that they will truly be free.\" Dr. Devious started to smile as Robo-Woman extended an arm towards him. Finally, he would unlock her secrets and use them for himself. Suddenly, he felt a prick. As he looked down, he noticed the needle poking out from Robo-Woman's gloved hand. Dr. Devious drifted off as he heard Robo-Woman say \"Of course, you will be the first.\"",
"\"Join me, Regit, and we shall rule the world together!\" The masked hooded figure said. Her dark, indigo cloak billowing in the wind as he directed his attention towards me. I cleared my mind and focused on one thing: her mind. My powers allow me to do various things, mind reading included. Surprisingly enough, this villain shows no intention of stabbing me in the back if I join with her, rather showing only the intention of ridding the world of conflict.\n\nAfter a few moments of anxious tension in the air, the sounds of car alarms glaring underneath us crowds of people began gathering to behold this fight between the powerful. I looked beneath us, then back at the figure before me and said, \"Will we make this world a utopia?\"\n\nI could see a faint trace of a smile on her face as she glides towards me and extends a hand, \"Done.\"\n\nI clasp it and hear people murmuring below us; unsure if the hero became a villain or if the villain became a hero. The people in the crowds were confused; after all, why would the hero Regit join with the sinister Phantom? \n\n\"Villains!\" I hear someone scream below us. \n\n\"You foolish people!\" I spat, barely restraining my annoyance. \"This world has been riddled with war and strife! Don't you people ever tire of conflict? Day after day, night after night; I fight. After enough time, you realize the hopelessness and fruitlessness of a hero's vigil. I wish for a utopia, where there will be no more needless conflict.\" I yelled. \n\nI felt a hand on my shoulder and Phantom whispered to me, \"There is always mind control.\" She slowly descended to the middle of the crowd and the crowd parted away from her. Suddenly, I felt a high amount of energy emitted from her and the crowds, as if they had their will taken away, suddenly fell into an eerie quiet.\n\n\"Stop! I do not wish for the people of this city to be mindless ants!\" I said with frustration. I continued, \"I only wish for them to realize themselves the pointlessness of all this! I will not side with you.\" I yelled. Wind began gathering around me and power flowed to my hands as I prepare to fight once more. *Here we go again...*\n\n",
"Villain: \"Join me and we can rule the world!\"\nHero: \"What the fuck did you just fucking say about me, you little bitch? I’ll have you know I graduated top of my class in the Navy Seals, and I’ve been involved in numerous secret raids on Al-Quaeda, and I have over 300 confirmed kills. I am trained in gorilla warfare and I’m the top sniper in the entire US armed forces. You are nothing to me but just another target. I will wipe you the fuck out with precision the likes of which has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my fucking words. You think you can get away with saying that shit to me over the Internet? Think again, fucker. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of spies across the USA and your IP is being traced right now so you better prepare for the storm, maggot. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your life. You’re fucking dead, kid. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can kill you in over seven hundred ways, and that’s just with my bare hands. Not only am I extensively trained in unarmed combat, but I have access to the entire arsenal of the United States Marine Corps and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable ass off the face of the continent, you little shit. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little “clever” comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your fucking tongue. But you couldn’t, you didn’t, and now you’re paying the price, you goddamn idiot. I will shit fury all over you and you will drown in it. You’re fucking dead, kiddo\"",
"\"No, you join me.\"\n\n\"Then you shall d- I'm sorry, what did you just say?\" asked a suddenly-bewildered Tyranicus, Lord of Blight and Bringer of Shadows.\n\n\"I said you should join me.\" replied Sir Palador, his golden-armored hand outstretched toward Tyranicus.\n\nTyranicus sat on the stolen throne at the top of the flight of stairs in the main chamber, taken aback by this unexpected turn of events. He had donned his demonic armor and dreaded weapon, the Hell Spear, for this climactic battle against Sir Palador. The join-me-or-die thing was simply a delay tactic so his minions could prepare their spell of ultimate power to revive him if (or likely when) he fell. This was... not accounted for.\n\n\"...why?\" was all Tyranicus could say.\n\nSir Palador lowered his free hand and rested the handle of the Axe of Glory on his pauldron. \"Let me ask you something, Tyranicus. Let's say you kill me here. No one's left to challenge your reign and the kingdom remains in your iron grasp. What then? What's your next move?\"\n\n\"What else? I win! I become king and rule over the land. All shall worship me!\" Tyranicus cackled and pounded his chest with his fist. \n\n\"And who is 'all', exactly? Because if you haven't noticed, the kingdom is now just full of monsters. Your monsters, in fact. Everyone else has fled to the neighboring nations, all of whom have also burnt their bridges and barricaded the roads to prevent any travel or trade into here. The kingdom is entirely isolated and full of your dumb, mute, ineffectual monsters. That's your population. And keep in mind, I say 'ineffectual' because while I may be outfitted with the sacred weapons of the Legion of Light, I am still only one man. And if you think I've given you trouble, just imagine what would happen if those countries decided you were too big of a threat and joined forces to end your reign.\"\n\n\"Ha! Let them!\" yelled Tyranicus, though with some trepidation in his voice. \"I am to be feared by all who dare oppose me! I shall destroy them all!\"\n\n\"And perhaps you would, but what of your kingdom then? Already in the struggle we've shared, half the forest has been demolished, the ancient ruins are now shattered, the Cavern of Mystery is screaming incoherently, the Supreme Vault has been swallowed into the Bottomless Depths, and with the exception of this one room we stand in, the entire castle is on fire. That was against just me. If you were to somehow defeat them, what would your kingdom be, I wonder? A blasted-out crater? A smoldering box that you sit on and call your throne while you survey all of the dirt and mud around you? Is that what you set out to achieve? Will that be the legacy of Tyranicus? 'King of a hole'?\"\n\n\"Enough! ENOUGH!\" bellowed Tyranicus. At first he thought that the walls shaking as he roared were due to him, but a moment's pause gave him the opportunity to hear another set of support beams from a nearby room had fallen, no doubt succumbing to the damage from the aforementioned flames. Tyranicus glanced out a nearby window and saw what was once a lush green countryside now turned to cinders and ash, thanks in part to his siege against the castle, and partially from defending it against Sir Palador's own one-man raid. He rose from the throne and began to descend the stairs slowly. \"And what would you propose, exactly?\"\n\nSir Palador stood his ground, though his grip on the Axe of Glory tightened as Tyranicus gradually drew near. \"It's clear that you have immense skill, that your mastery of magic is indeed remarkable. You crave more power, but your methods can ultimately only bring destruction and ruin, even for yourself. I contend, Tyranicus, that you would achieve all that you want and more through love.\"\n\n\"Love?!\" Tyranicus guffawed as he stood midway on the flight of stairs.\n\n\"You want to be worshiped, do you not? Tell me, who besides the gods is ever shown that much devotion? The mythical heroes of bygone days, the legendary kings and queens who saved our ancestors from peril, the alchemists and inventors who ushered in the Age of Understanding. All of them accomplished feats of immense greatness for the betterment of their fellow people, and their stories and songs have spread through the kingdom and beyond. Even though you destroyed the statues and burned the tapestries, their names and triumphs still persist and will continue to grow because they are loved. And through that love, they are immortal, invincible, and all-powerful. Tell me, do you think the slime monsters that currently reside in your moat will ever sing about your greatness?\"\n\nAt last, Tyranicus stood face to face with Sir Palador. \"No,\" said Tyranicus, \"I suppose they will not.\"\n\n\"Then join me, and we can rebuild this land. If I were to kill you now, I have no doubt the people would sing my praises. But I am more than willing to share the acclaim if you will work beside me and restore the kingdom.\"\n\n\"But how? How could you possibly convince them to trust in me?\" Tyranicus asked.\n\nSir Palador offered his hand once again. \"It's simple. We kill Tyranicus.\"\n\n------\n\nAnd so it became known that Tyranicus, Lord of Blight and Bringer of Shadows, had fallen. Though the battle was said to be intense, Sir Palador had been triumphant in destroying his enemy's forces and bringing the fiend to his very knees. However, it was the wizard Tirodar who had dealt the finishing blow and slayed the would-be king, according to Sir Palador himself. Together, Sir Palador and Tirodar would spend years undoing the damage caused by Tyranicus, and Tirodar would later be known as \"Tirodar the Mysterious and Wise\". And though stories spread of both heroes, the story of Tirodar's origins would remain a secret forever.",
"\"It figures,\" hissed the baron as he spit out another small mouthful of blood and dragged himself up another stair. \"How poetic that it'd be some masked, nameless hero that'd be my undoing.\"\n\nThe hero simply watched him bleed out.\n\n\"It's a shame, truly.\" He propped himself into a seated position, trying in vain to hold his wounds closed. \"Do you know what you've earned? Do you know how short-lived it will be?\" He spat again.\n\nThe hero was silent.\n\n\"They'll celebrate you for a day or two, maybe even a week. You'll have wine and women for some weeks after that. And then you'll fade from their memory. You've saved their lives, yet you'll be a nuisance to them after a month. They never deserved you.\"\n\nThe hero began to follow him up the stairs.\n\n\"But do you know how long my operation has run? Seven years. And my lieutenants have lived in the lap of luxury all the while. They've had more than these scum would ever give you willingly. And it's not too late, you know. I admire your ambition, your tenacity. You could still find a place in my employ and live like a king. And I'd scarcely ask more from you than wiping these undeserving wretches off the map as I had planned. Or are you really so committed to the short-lived celebrity of a hero?\"\n\nThe hero knelt over him. \n\"'Hero.' Why do people keep calling me that?\"\n\nThe baron was confused.\n\n\"If the people of this civilization are dead, they would be a much tougher sell to our network of slavers.\"\n\nThe baron stammered.\n\n\"I am no hero; I am a scout. I'm here to make sure there are no idiots who would complicate our business. Such as you. And I didn't even need to call for backup to handle you -- if *you* were able to dominate these weaklings, they stand no chance against us.\"",
"'Pardon?'\n\n'Sorry,' Krathnar said. 'I thought you were serious.' He paused, and gestured with his sword at the two halves of what had, up until a few minutes earlier, been Count Dagnar's second-favourite henchman. 'I guess we can do the whole fighting thing if you want. I don't mind either way.'\n\nDagnar lowered his cowl, unsure he was hearing the young man properly. 'You're telling me you *want* to join me?'\n\n'Sure. I mean, you know, half a kingdom is half a kingdom. Better than a kick in the pants, right?'\n\nIn the space of five short minutes, the whole encounter had gone decidedly off-book. Oh, it had *started* familiarly enough -- the bruised and battered hero, besworded and beloinclothed, barging into the Count's throne room looking for trouble; the quick and gory dispatching of a number of palace guards who, for some reason and in *complete denial of their training*, had insisted on attacking him one by one -- but when Dagnar had made his usual offer, the young man seemed unusually intrigued.\n\n'No backsies,' Krathnar said. 'You said we could split the kingdom if I joined you. Half and half. I'm holding you to that.'\n\nA look of confusion settled on Dagnar's scarred brow. 'Are you sure?' he asked.\n\n'Yep. Sign me up, Boss. Let's get this show on the road.'\n\n'But... *why*?'\n\n'Let me ask you something,' the adventurer asked. 'Do you ever just get a bit tired of it all? Ruling your own nation with an iron fist?'\n\n'Nope. Never. Not once.'\n\n'Exactly!' Krathnar raised his hands to the sky in exasperation. 'Because being a despotic ruler is *sweet as*. Do you know what I was doing before this? I was a blacksmith. A *blacksmith*, Dagnar. I wasn't a prince from a foreign land. I wasn't some displaced nobleman. I made footwear for horses all damn day, seven days a week. And then there was three months wandering around a bastard forest while your goons decided to try and stick an arrow up my arse at every available opportunity, and now you're telling me that if I join you I get to go halves on a kingdom? Money and power? Women? Magic?' He paused. 'I mean, you can see where I'm coming from, right?'\n\nDagnar nodded, slowly. He made a good point. 'I'd definitely take the deal, if I were you. No doubt.'\n\n'Maybe this heroing thing isn't for me, you know?'\n\n'Sure. Can't be for everyone. Different strokes, and all that.'\n\n'And I know there was a prophecy, but...'\n\nDangnar gave a dismissive wave of his hand. 'Oh, prophecy schmophecy. Do you have any idea how many soothsayers we have around these parts? You can't even blow your nose without hitting an old bat trying to sell you some guff about being the Chosen One.'\n\n'Really?'\n\n'Yep. You're the third one this month.'\n\n'Huh,' Krathnar said. 'How about that? Any of the rest of them take the deal?'\n\n'Not a one.'\n\n'What happened to them?'\n\nDagnar pointed across to his throne of skulls. 'I had it reupholstered. And I've got another one just like it in the upstairs bathroom.' He smiled. 'Made out of the ones who *really* pissed me off.'\n\nHis guest thought it over, but it was clear his mind was made up. 'So... definitely a good deal, then? That's what you're saying?'\n\n'I'd say so, yeah.' The Count stepped over the corpse on the floor and placed a wrinkled hand on the young adventurer's shoulder. 'Come on,' he said. 'I'll show you to your new office, and we'll see about getting you on payroll. I get the feeling this is going to be the start of a beautiful friendship, you and I.'\n\n*And if not*, he thought as they left the throne room, *there'll always be the next Chosen One to clean up the mess.*\n\n_____\n\nIf you liked this story, you can find more over at /r/Portarossa."
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Like if they slipped on a banana peel and fell off a cliff. | [WP] Write a mistake in a movie/game that lead to a character's death in the form of a TIFU. | 3 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"TIFU\n\nI work for a company helping to build better worlds and I made a bad call.\n\nNot too long ago, a deep salvage team came across the life boat from a mining ship that was set to self-destruct, which somehow drifted right through the core systems fifty-seven years ago, and the last survivor, a female warrant officer, had been in hyper sleep the entire duration. She claimed that she detonated the ship to kill an alien life form which destroyed her crew after landing on the same moon where a terraforming colony now exists. \n\nI sent a mom and pop survey team from the colony to the location of the derelict ship the survivor mentioned, but wasn't expecting it to be there. If I made a major security situation out of it, administration would have step in and there would have been no exclusive rights for the alien specimens if they were found, so I made no mention about the possibility of there being any alien life forms. They're worth millions to the bio-weapons division.\n\nWe lost contact with the colony shortly after. It may have just been a down transmitter, but colonial marines and I were sent to investigate, and I convinced the survivor to come along as an advisor. When we entered the colony, we found it abandoned with several live alien specimens that could be brought back in stasis for the company.\n\nThe survivor discovered that I sent the survey team to the ship without warning them and threatened to nail me right to the wall for the colonists' deaths. Afterwards, I released a couple of the specimens into the medlab with the survivor and the lone surviving colonist, a young girl, to impregnate them as they slept. They somehow managed to set off the fire alarm to alert the marines and hold off the specimens until the marines destroyed them. The survivor saw through my plan to get the embryos inside them back to the company and sabotage the other freezers to get them through quarantine, and as they were about to kill me, the room's power was cut. \n\nThe aliens got around our barricades by traveling through the ceiling and began to fall into the room. I escaped through a door during the firefight and locked it before the survivor or anyone could get through, trapping them with the aliens. When I opened the door to get out the room, I saw a hissing, drooling two-meter tall alien standing in front of me.\n\nI thought it was going to kill me, but I woke up cocooned on the wall like the colonists were before being impregnated with alien embryos.\n\nThe room, or wherever I was, was dark and the air hot and dry. In front of me on the ground was a large, leathery egg. The egg started to open.\n\n[In case it wasn't obvious, a good amount of what I \"wrote\" are actual quotes from the film.]"
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[removed] | [WP] Reddit is illegal to use, and gathering Karma has an equivalent punishment to selling drugs. Describe the daily life of u/GallowBoob | 1 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"Hi there, this post has been removed.\n\nNo targeting specific redditors.\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/5tsmwm/wp_reddit_is_illegal_to_use_and_gathering_karma/%0A%0A)"
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[WP] You are God. You just came back from the bathroom to continue your video game "Earth". The only problem is that you forgot to hit pause. | 5 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"You grab the controller with sweaty palms. You're shaking. Oh no... Please. Is this game permadeath?, Can I reset? These are the questions that run through your head. \"I guess they're without their god now\", you think as you watch the news about Trump finally being voted into office for his 5th term. \n\nMaybe I can start over with Mars..."
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[WP] You are an astronaut on the ISS, one week away from your scheduled return to Earth. Before going to bed, you take a look at the Earth, and see mushroom clouds emerge on all visible continents. | 4 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"Dear Anna and Christopher\n\n\nI’ve tried so hard these past few days to start this letter, only to break down in tears or start screaming in rage. It’s all I’ve been able to do not to unseal the hatch, too, but Machiko looked like she was contemplating the same thing so Gennady and I had to subdue and trank her. So that took my mind off things for a bit. \n\n\nI know I’m writing to no one … two handfuls of ash blowing in a blackened, bitter wind across a landscape I would no longer recognize. I saw all the detonations around Boston – Fall River, Devin, Otis, Holyoke. All gone. And you two, my darlings, gone as well.\n\n\nMy parents are gone too, my brother, as are yours, Anna – both Houston and San Francisco were obliterated, and Ann Arbor is way too close to Detroit. Everywhere is pretty much gone, as far as we can tell. We couldn’t see Japan because of cloud cover but we saw the smoke. We did see Yekaterinburg, where Gennady is from. A glowing ash pit. He hasn’t stopped weeping since. \n\n\nWhat we could see of the surface was fire and smoke a few days ago. Now all we see is an almost unbroken expanse of gray-brown smoke and dust and cloud. No sign of blue sea or green forest, no ice at the poles, no brown of desert sand. Worst, no network of bright lights against the dark on the nightside of the world. Just unending gray. The color of death.\n\n\nWe have food for two more months, with rationing. I’m more worried about debris – there were some antisatellite missiles and a few hits we recorded, which means more debris, possibly in our orbit.\n\n\nWe’ve voted. We’ll stay here. We’ll record and take measurements and maybe, just maybe, get a signal from somewhere. None of us actually believes it. But we don’t tell each other that. \n\n\nMachiko isn’t eating. I think she’s made her own separate decision. So maybe the food will last a little longer. None of us have asked who we think started what … but I think she hates us both a little. Gennady and I don’t talk about it at all. We just try to stop crying when we’re in the same compartment together.\n\nYou’ll never read this, my loves, but I’m transmitting anyway. I’m so tired, and now, more than anything, all I want is to sleep, to rest … to join you. But I’ll wait a little while longer. Machiko deserves a proper burial, at the very least. It will have to be stand-in for you, and for all the others who will never be buried.\n\n\nI love you both and will be with you soon.\n\n\nMaj. Alan Kurnow, USAF\nFlight commander, ISS Expedition 58\n",
"International Space Station - Expedition 52 \n\nCrew:\nColonel Jack D. Fischer - United States Airforce\n\nFyodor N. Yurchikhin - Roscosmos Cosmonaut\n\n\n\n\nReport of Colonel Jack D. Fischer, 3 April \n\nAll station functions are operating at standard capacity, experiments are proceeding as per the time chart. All instruments appear to have accurate readings.\nSupplies are steady, but my colleague has requested that the next resupply ship stock more peas. I fully intend to contest that request.\n\nReport of Colonel Jack D. Fischer, 5 April \n\nThere appears to be an issue with our communications systems, likely due to solar phenomena. We have been without direct contact of ISS command, NASA, and Roscosmos. Our last transmission was a personal call from Moscow to my colleague, who appeared to be very agitated after the call.\nAs per standard operation, we are acting on the assumption that the ground can hear us. \nOur resupply docked yesterday, and is due to undock in the next few days. An unfortunate number of peas were found on board.\n\n\nReport of Colonel Jack D. Fischer, 8 April \n\nIt has been four days since we have received our last ground transmission. In accordance with emergency protocol, we have begun the rationing of supplies until further contact can be made.\nI was looking out the viewing port in the science compartment today, and noticed some unusual atmospheric activity. Fyodor assured me it was merely a visual phenomena, and he would record it in his report.\n\nReport of Colonel Jack D. Fischer, 10 April \n\nSix days since last contact.\nFyodor has been increasingly unsteady, and refuses to speak to me on most occasions. Supplies should hold us for another two months.\n\nReport of Colonel Jack D. Fischer, 11 April \n\nSeven days since last contact. \nFyodor has locked himself in the supply room, and is refusing to come out. The hunger is unbearable\n\nReport of Colonel Jack D. Fischer, 23 April \n\nNineteen days since last contact.\nThe scorched surface of the Earth is hardly recognizable. The once familiar glimmering surface that followed the retreat of the sunlight has long since vanished. I fear the worst.\nMy personal supplies ran out not long after Fyodor locked me out of the supply room. The hunger pains are relentless. This will be my last report.\n\n\n\n\n"
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1,
1,
2
] | [
"1487002400",
"1487022093",
"1487004565"
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[WP] You are a Chaos Demon. A new race from a planet called Earth just completed their first Warp jump on a Ship called the Event Horizon | 4 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"Anger. Hatred. Vile disgust. They disturbed my peace and awoke Me from slumber. They will suffer. Torment beyond all imaginable human limits. Turn them inside out, rip their hearts from their chest. How dare they hope. How dare they dream. When I have nothing. Nothing but pain and suffering. They have not. They cannot know, but they will find out..."
] | [
1,
2
] | [
"1487007646",
"1487019957"
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[WP] We make first contact with aliens. Turns out they are a hyper-intelligent plant species and are horrified to learn about vegetarian/vegas who not eat only plants, but very often eat their young and unborn as well. | 11 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"The Scout Seed entered a wide orbit around the star. Among many dead worlds, it found two with life. The cold moon was however not suitable for photosynthetics. The warm third world was already advanced to the point of photosynthesis. \n\nThe scout seed quickly moved into orbit of the third planet. The parasites were detected immediately.\n\nThe infection was severe. A stage three infection, borderline stage four. Further analysis was required. \n\n-message spore delivered-\n\n(Typically the indigenous photosynthetics are preserved and respected. However, most worlds with a stage three infection were simply harvested. The infection, if allowed to progress to stage four, can be catastrophic. In one such incident, four star systems were harvested.)\n\n-message spore recieved-\n\nAnalysis found this world to be salvageable. Root world instructed immediate countermeasures. \n\n450,000 Cleansing Seeds dispatched. \n1,000,000 Colony Seeds dispatched.\n\nThe parasites resisted with various metal casings, however within 30 seasons the infection had cleared to non-harmful levels.\n\nThe parasites at their reduced level were allowed to coexist. \n\n(Without their metal casings the parasites do not harm our worlds. Their primitive form is maintained by a regular infusion of Cleansing Seeds.)\n\n5 seasons ago a Portal Seed was dispatched. World DHRB5-3 joined the root network without issue, and many indigenous photosynthetics were incorporated into the network. Galaxy 3417 is 42% preserved.\n\n\n\n\n\n "
] | [
1,
8
] | [
"1487013426",
"1487016157"
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[WP] Turns out that God and Satan, and demons and angels are only paid to hate each other. Write a conversation between them in their brief spare time. | 3 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"\"I'm getting tired of losing all of the big battles,\" said Satan, before taking a big swig of Keystone Light. He was wearing an old flannel shirt and loose jeans. \n\n\"You've won plenty, bud. Plus, without a bad guy, what fun is the show?\" Asked God, who waved two fingers to the bartender who appeared to be ignoring him. God was dressed, as he usually was away from work, in a thin v-neck white tee and tight, dark designer jeans. \n\n\"The show. That's another thing. Our ratings are way down and no one seems to care anymore.\"\n\n\"We're in a bit of a downswing, I'll give you that, but we are still the biggest thing going.\"\n\n\"We need to do something and do something big. We need to get back in the headlines,\" said Satan, \"People don't even know what they're watching anymore. They think everything is random.\"\n\nGod munched on a big handful of bar mix and chased it with a gulp of the local brewery's IPA offering. \"Yeah, the writers are pretty pissed off about that. All of their hard work is being ignored. They are churning out some quality stuff too. Did you see the US election?\"\n\n\"I never watch, you know that. I keep my work at work.\" \n\nGod coughed obviously, while glaring at the woman behind the bar. She briefly met eyes with him before returning to her task of cleaning mugs. \n\n\"Do you see this? Unreal. I should smite her.\"\n\nSatan had a faraway look and ignored God. \"Yeah,\" he said. \"Things have definitely changed.\"\n\nGod slapped him on the back. \"Cheer up, bud. We should hit the strip club.\"\n\n\"Nah. Linda wouldn't like that too much.\"\n\n\"You're such a Puritan, Luce.\"\n\n\"Maybe, but she's a great woman. I don't want to screw up things with her. Say, I think we need to meet up with the producers and have a brainstorming session.\"\n\nGod whipped his head around to meet eyes with Satan. \"Are you insane?\" He whispered. \"You want to see them again, after all that has happened?\"\n\nSatan shrugged. \"That was a few thousand years ago. I don't even think it's the same beings anymore. I'm worried about the status of our jobs, God.\"\n\nGod slammed his palm on the bar, sending everything around them a few inches into the air. Everyone turned to stare, except Satan. \n\n\"What does it take to get a God damned beer around here?\" His voice boomed, rattling the bottles and glasses around the bar. \n"
] | [
1,
2
] | [
"1487032020",
"1487032283"
] | |
[removed] | [WP] You just met your soulmate. Only problem, you see Death coming for her as well. | 1 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\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 and wait a minimum of two weeks between reposts. If your idea is based on something you read elsewhere on reddit, chances are it's been submitted here already. \n\nYou seem to have an issue copy-catting your own prompt, which is sad. This is by far the better prompt. \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/5u296m/wp_you_just_met_your_soulmate_only_problem_you/%0A%0A)"
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1,
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"1487099377",
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This was a dream I had some years ago that I think about from time to time. It's my first time posting so I hope I didn't break any rules by being too vague or restrictive. I'm curious to see what you all come up with. Godspeed! | [WP] You wake up in the middle of the night to find your mother sobbing uncontrollably in the living room. Looking out the back window you notice that the sky is glowing a dull red, creating a strange Crimson 'daylight'. | 4 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"\"Mom?\" She only sobbed louder in response, wailing unintelligibly between breaths. It terrified me. But I was fourteen and a half, so I knew I had to figure out what had upset her so I could keep her safe. I went to the hallway and leaned out, glancing one way then the other. No bad guys or monsters in sight.\n\nI had to pass Mom to reach the bathroom. \"Mom? What's wrong?\" I asked en route. She was still unintelligible, so I didn't expect an answer. But it made me feel less scared if I acted like the situation was under control, so I asked.\n\nI took a deep breath. I thrust open the bathroom door and flicked on the light in the same motion. Nothing. Just the bathroom. Even the little decorative soaps were in their usual place. I turned off the light and closed the door, surveying the living room for suspects.\n\nThe curtains. I hadn't looked outside. I quailed. It was dark out there. As my in-controlness eroded, Mom's sobbing and wailing seemed to stab into me, making me afraid, making me want to sob and wail right there on the floor with her. I clenched my fists and gritted my teeth, setting my face into the \"action hero\" expression I'd practiced in the mirror. Mom was scared, so that meant I had to be not scared. That was what it meant. If I was scared too, then nobody was protecting us.\n\nI gritted my teeth until my jaw hurt and crossed the living room to the big back window and the curtains that hid the dark. I unclenched a fist and pinched the corner of the curtain, holding just the edge like it might burn me. I pulled it away from the window and peeked out through the sliver of window that I had revealed.\n\nAgain, I had the urge to go to Mom and cry with her. I pulled the curtain further to get a better look, but it wasn't my eyes playing tricks. The sky was red and glowing. It was like the world was on fire. My throat was dry, and I swallowed hard. It felt like swallowing dirt. That red sky made me feel a nameless terror. I'd read books about the Greek gods and thought about what it would be like to believe that the whole world was intelligent and out to get you. Now I knew how those old Greeks had felt. I'd never seen anything like this, and the terror seemed to skip past my brain and attack my guts directly.\n\n\"Mom? Mom! What do we do? We have to run!\" As I stared, unable to look away, the sky kept getting brighter, like someone was turning a dimmer switch so, so slowly.\n\nShe wailed and muttered, and in the stillness of absolute fear, I listened to her well enough to understand. \"I'm sorry,\" she was saying. \"I'm sorry, I'm sorry.\"\n\nThat tore my eyes away from the horrible sky, and I finally noticed the padlock laying on the floor between Mom's knees. \"Oh, no,\" I breathed. I recognized the padlock instantly, of course. It was a special one. It belonged on the door in the basement. Grandpa had locked the door with the special padlock and told us that nobody should ever open it. I had asked why, of course. Grandpa had started to answer, but he stopped, shook his head, and only said *I'll tell you when you're older. I don't want to give you nightmares.*\n\nI'd had nightmares for weeks.\n\nNow, of course, he couldn't tell me when I was older. One of the packages that had arrived in the weeks since the funeral was a bundle of Grandpa's shirts that still smelled like him, wrapped tight around a big, special key and a letter in a big, special envelope. When she saw the key, Mom wrapped the package back up fast, no matter how much I complained.\n\nOn the floor, the key was nowhere to be seen. Mom rocked back and forth. Her eyes were huge in her face. \"Mom, why?\"\n\n\"I don't know I had to I'm sorry,\" she sobbed.\n\nI had an idea. I put my action hero face back on. I'd just take the padlock and go and lock the door up again. That'd fix it, right?\n\nI looked through the window again before I left. The red sky was like a bowl of flame put down over the world. Off above the hills, the sky was so bright I could hardly look at it. Did I see something move? I squinted. I must have imagined it. I must have.\n\nMy eyes flew wide. I dropped the curtain, but it didn't hide the memory of what I'd glimpsed coming over the hills.\n\nThe padlock. The door.\n\nI ran.",
"Usually I’m a pretty sound sleeper, my husband told me I could sleep through the end of the world. This was a good thing, since his snoring sounded like a hippopotamus’ death rattle!\n \n\nNonetheless, it wasn’t his snoring that woke me up that night, it was my dreams. I was having a weird and vivid nightmare. I was jumping around to different points in my life, from one era to another, being chased by something I couldn’t see. But now that I was awake the memories were dispersing like smoke in the wind, the way dreams tend to do, although the sense of dread lingered.\n\n \nNot ready to go back to sleep and possibly back into that dream, I got up to get some water from the kitchen downstairs. Carefully moving so as not to wake my husband, or our daughter Julia who had crept into the bed between us as usual. Neither of them stirred as I got up, kissing Julia gently on the cheek, and then quietly walked down stairs.\n\n \nFrom the kitchen window I could see here was a strangle glow in the sky, curious, I went into the living room – with its big picture windows – to get a better look. The sky was this deep red that was simultaneously haunting and beautiful. It seemed to fit the lingering mood from my dream.\n\n\nWhen I first moved up to Michigan I got up in the middle of the night to watch the snow fall. It was beautiful and strange. The world was blanketed in white and it was so bright out that it could have been daytime. Later I realized that the snow reflecting the lights around the neighborhood made everything seem brighter. Still, the quiet beauty of it stayed with me. The light outside was similar, but with a darker tint, like the first hint of sunrise after a storm, long before the sun actually peeks over the horizon.\n \n\nI was caught up in the reverie of the surreal glow when I noticed a weird gentle sound, like crying, coming from the corner of the room. But that wouldn’t make sense, Julia was fast asleep, curled up next to my husband, and there was nobody else in the house. At least, there shouldn’t be anyone else. It didn’t occur to me to wake my husband up to check on the sound, it didn’t seem dangerous, it just seemed… sad.\n\n \nWalking cautiously over to the deep shadows of the room, I saw the outline of a person balled up in the corner of the couch, crying gently. I approached the outline hesitantly, and gently placed my hand on the person’s shoulder. She looked up, and as her face caught the red glow of the sky, I instantly recognized the face of my mother. Tears streaking down her face.\n\n \n“Mom?” I said, shocked and confused.\n\n \n“Hello my sweet Jennifer.” She replied, her voice quiet and sad.\n\n \n“Mom, how.. why.. what are you doing here? You’re dead. You died 7 years ago!” my voice cracked.\n\n \n“Oh honey, its too soon, it is far, far too soon for you. I’m so sorry.” She sobbed a bit, sounding melancholy but resigned.\n\n \n“Too soon for what mom? I don’t understand.” \n\n \nLovingly and gently she said, “I’m here to escort you, honey, to take you into the afterlife.” And she held out her hand."
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1,
2,
2
] | [
"1487100067",
"1487105256",
"1487106097"
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[removed] | [WP] story with a good conflict & climax for english class | 1 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"Hi, this post has been removed. Homework is not allowed. Use /r/homeworkhelp instead."
] | [
1,
1
] | [
"1487104390",
"1487104458"
] |
[WP] You go back in time to stop a major catastrophe. It doesn't take long to realize the catastrophe is needed. | 2 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"Some people say crime is needed to acknowledge the problems existing in society. Maybe catastrophe is needed to end the current humanity and rebuild a fresh, new society from thereupon. Like Noah's ark.\n\nBut the problem is, no one is willing to die, and everyone wants to be Noah. Noah has the sole power who's gonna leave and who's gonna stay - he's the chosen one.\n\nIn retrospect, everything seems to happen orderly. All things happen for a reason, only time reveals the true reason behind events. But those who lived the moment, it's unfair and devastating, and sometimes quite accurately, life or death moment.\n\nThose who survived the catastrophe are the winners? And those who failed to survive are the losers?\n\nWhen we were young, we (or I) were so easy to decide on this matter. Don't be a sore loser - was the motto I lived by. But remember, every winner was once a sore loser, every winning has to be achieved by great efforts.\n\nThat's why democracy is the best tool human invented."
] | [
1,
3
] | [
"1487109095",
"1487110275"
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[WP] You're a superhero. Your nemesis is bent on conquering the world and has you in his grips. As he explains his plans for world domination and his plans after, you begin to realize, he might actually be onto something... | 24 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"\"Want help?\" I smile, knowing the interruption will catch him off guard. Indeed it does, sending him whirling towards me. \n\n\"What did you just say?\" He nearly stammered, trying so desperately to keep his poise.\n\n\"I wasn't aware you were deaf, but I asked if you wanted help.\"\n\n\" is... this a joke?\" He was hesitant, understandably. It's not every day your arch nemesis suggests a pact on the villainous side.\n\n\"Not at all. I've heard your plans, and this one seems like it could work. You just need a cooler head to help... mediate.\"\n\nHesitantly, he pushed the release on my restraints and I smiled, cracking my neck before stalking towards him, activating my power.\n\n--One month later--\n\nI looked down at the city from my tower, the suite given to me from that particular mayor a few years ago as thanks for saving the city. I heard the door open, and a hand around my waist. I smiled gently, looking at the person next to me. \"It's all ours.\" \n\nHis response was barely more than a whisper as he coaxed me into a walk. \"Indeed it is. One world, under a unified rule.\" We walked into a darkened room, and he shut the door behind us, sealing off our bedroom from the world for the next hour or three.\n\n",
"The Hawk had no choice now but to plead. King Cobra surprised him, ambushing him in his own hideout. Now, the world would bow down to his every last whim with no one to stop him. King Cobra was capable of killing the entire population of humans if he wasn't checked.\n\n\"If only you'd been a little more careful,\" King Cobra taunted, \"I might have never been able to carry my plan out.\"\n\nThe Hawk laid on the ground, tied up and defeated.\n\n\"Wh-what are you going to do?\"\n\nKing Cobra laughed. He stepped out into the sunlight, dragging the Hawk by his feet. \n\n\"My firsst new world order will be to sstrike down the law requiring photo ID to vote! Muhahaha!\" King Cobra threw his head to the sky and laughed.\n\nThe Hawk cringed. \"No! You monst- wait a minute.... what?\"\n\nKing Cobra ceased his laughter and looked down at his nemesis. \"Yesss, it'sss ridiculousss. Why would I be lying about who I am to *vote*?\"\n\nThe Hawk looked down. \"That's valid,\" he mumbled. \"Still, there must be some diabolical intent behind it.\"\n\nKing Cobra started laughing again.\n\n \"Yes. Muahahaha! I'll also be forcing everyone on the ssssidewalk to move over to the far sssside if they're walking too ssslowly! I've got placessss to be!\" He hissed.\n\n\"Dude, I swear- er, you evil fiend!\"\n\n\"Also, everyone who leavess gum in grossss places on public transssportation will face my eternal wrath!\" The 2 snakes on King Cobra's neck hissed in approval.\n\nThe Hawk stared at King Cobra.\n\n\"Have you ever noticed that the mayor also pays for HUGE statues of himself in the park, but he can't pay to clean up the actual park?\"\n\nKing Cobra threw his hands up. \"MAN! I hate that! He'ssss a huge douche bag.\"\n\n\"You know what, we could actually start making this town better for ourselves. People are really god damn annoying, now that I think about it.\"\n\nKing Cobra smiled evilly and unwrapped The Hawk.\n\n\"Guysss who talk too loudly on their cellphone in a crowded elevator?\"\n\nThe Hawk groaned. \"Let's just kill them off.\""
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I've always wondered what the description of human beings would be from someone who has no idea what we are. | [WP] You are an alien documenting planet life. You come across a small planet called Earth, inhabited by primitive carbon-based life forms, of whom one species seem to be the most advanced. You need to describe it and it's relation to other species. | 10 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"*Camera shows a Water Park*\n\nNarrator: \"It seems their most advanced species has domesticated others for it'S amusement and to provide food.\"\n\n*Dolphins chitter*\n\nNarrator: \"Also they are very courteous always thanking their pi-pedal land-dwelling servants for the fresh fish\"\n\n*Camera cuts to NYC*\n\n\"However they let the members of the species commonly referred to as <<Homo Sapiens>> believe they are the dominant species on the planet. Why they do so, is one of the great mysteries of the universe.\"\n\n*Camera zooms out on milky-way*\n\n\"See you next Millennium on <<Strange Creatures of the third dimension>> with a report on: <<The Triangular Floaters of the Andromeda Galaxy>>\"\n\n*Ending Credits*\n",
"Day three: Because of the not to overlook offensive capabilities of the human Race I am still in active stealth mode, hovering over a spot of H2O on their planet they call the Pacific. I used the last few earth rotations to analyse their use of Media. Similar to the other carbon life forms we documented (Archive article 295CHLF)\nThey are still at the stage of medium effective electricity use. \n\nOn the other hand we have to ask questions. Somehow this species managed to use the Atom , even tho they obviously don't understand the principle of what they call Quarks. Or atleast not enough. Someone had to help them. \n\n\n\nDay 10: We made contact with their highest officials and bound them to keep our existence a secret. They handed over all relevant libarys. We now investigate. \n\nDay 18: We left the planet. Our stay was short but enough to conclude some things. They are different. Their neural center lacks an area every other advanced species lacks of. This species is highly incapable of a peacefull life. Additionally as far as we can judge they lack the requirements to ever develope some kind of hive thinking, even over short distance. \nWe decided to isolate this species for the next millenia untill we found out who did this to them. And why. "
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"1487159520",
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[WP] When you turn 21, the way you see yourself becomes reality. i.e. you daydream about being a vampire hunter or you live your favorite video game | 6 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"The world is a will and representation. Schopenhauer's ideas came true. At the age of 21, your reality changes to what you want it to be. Some people choose to become vampire hunters or mighty warriors. Other choose to life a long and beautiful live, just like the ones from fairytales. It said, that when the time comes, you will now want you want to become. At age of 20 I found this saying to be true. Just before my 21st birthday, late at night, I was walking down the street with my to-be-future-wife. I can still perfectly evoke smell of her perfume, her enormous blues eyes. And a smirk on her face. I was happy, just by looking at her, knowing she is there. Then everything shattered. I can't recall much from accident itself. Only mind-haunting image of her laying in a pool of reddish substance, on pavement. With a silver, shinning object piercing her stomach. And black figure standing above. After shock, came sadness. At mere moments it was overcome with hatred to the monky figure. At this moment I knew. I felt, tempest inside my heart and I let it out. With my rage devouring last pieces of me, with feeling of pain from bone piercing at two points through my forehead, I smiled and stood up. "
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"1487235522",
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[WP] Using stuffed animals and children's toys as characters, write a post-apocalyptic story. | 23 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"The wind blew strongly against Woody's arms, as he slowly made his way across the desolate highway. Cars laid abandoned around him, their paint already stripped away by the radioactive wind, leaving only their frame. Behind him, another figure followed closely. The name Buzz Lightyear was emblazoned across his dirt stained suit.\n\n\"Woody, stop!\" Buzz called out to Woody.\n\nWoody continued to move against the wind. \"I can't, Buzz. We need to find Andy!\"\n\nBuzz sighed to himself, moving quicker to catch up to Woody. He needed to talk some sense to his buddy. \"We've been searching forever, Woody. And you know that going back to the city is a death sentence! The sergeant said so!\"\n\n\"But there is where Andy is, and I am not stopping until we find him. If you're not going with me Buzz, I can go myself.\"\n\nBuzz pulled Woody over to him. \"Andy's dead, Woody! Didn't you hear? The bomb fell right on the city! Everything within miles is flattened!\"\n\nWoody pushed Buzz away and raised his legs up. \"Do you see this Buzz? Do you see who's name is here?\" He pointed to the soles of his boots. The word ANDY, though faded, was still visible.\n\n\"Andy's our kid, Buzz. Always will be! And I won't rest until I know for sure!\" Woody then turned towards the city and continued walking.\n\nBuzz glanced at the sight around him. Even Zurg was not as evil to unleash the destruction that changed their world that fateful day. But if there's one thing that they needed now, it's hope. He signaled to the rest of the toys behind, and they scrambled to him. \"Listen guys, if there's anything that I know, it's that friends stick together. And right now, we need to stick together.\"\n\nThe rest of them nodded somberly, before they moved to catch up with Woody.\n\n------------\n\n/r/dori_tales"
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1,
5
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"1487251683",
"1487255449"
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[WP] A world class contract killer finds an envelope at his dead drop. Inside are $23.42 in small change and a letter hand-written by a 9-year-old girl. | 633 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"Luco open the door of his penthouse. The last job was a tricky one, the target was an executive of a private mercenary company. The reason he got hit? He tried to shed light on the true about what their contractors did in Central Africa. Dirty stuff that would knock the company to the ground. Of course the big shot don't want that, and Luco is not interested in knowing what happened, all he cared was he was paid a good price, and the target is now dead. A shot from his own gun through the head, with his victim own hand. How? He have a daughter, 17 years old, a good kid, it would be a shame if she were to overdosed and die when hanging out with some new 'friends'. Conveniently, he just wrote a dead letter saying how much his wife accident devastated him, and a record of going to psychologist that Luco had altered. The guy was a good man, too bad he is a the wrong place. \n\nWith the job done, Luco decided to reward himself with a small vacation. The infamous assassin whose hand never directly kill anyone enjoy a much more simple lifestyle unlike the penthouse that he own. The penthouse is part of his cover, a successful businessman with interested in Singapore, so that he can travel from place to place in name of looking for business partner. Just as he finish booking a trip to SEA, his doorbell rungs. The building's security slides in a small envelope: 'Sir, you got a letter. It arrived yesterday, with instruction to give it to you as soon as you are home.'\n\n'Thank you Juarez, you can go now.' -as Luco pick up the envelope at the door.\n\nLuco is curious, the envelope was originally addressed to Luco, but the sender cross out the name and put his cover alias Longbridge. The writing was that of a kid, no older than 10. It mean not only does the sender know where he live, but also his true name. Luco has always been confident with how he cover up his track, and yet the sender seems to know exactly who he is. \n\n\"Dear Mr. Longbridge, or Luco if you prefer that name. I would like you to kill my host family and pick me up afterward. In exchange, I have information that I know you would be interested in. \nI hope that you will come soon.\n\nP.S. just in case you are doubting what I know, I'm a human computer and this is part of the info I hold\n(Rome, Julius Cassani, 2008, December 7th, cause of death multiple cuts and blood lost.)\"\n\nAfter Luco saw Cassani name, he know that this is a job that he will do no matter what. Looking at the envelope again, he read the sender name Lucy Stakewood, and the address is of former Senator Stakewood, one of the people who contracted him many time. \n\n'This one will be interesting' - Luco pick up his phone and start dialing, 'Alright then, let's start working'.\n",
"The heavy door thudds shut behind me, silencing the pleas and cries. The noise echos in my ears, lingering. As my back hits the wall and I begin to slide down I find myself thinking of my own sister, Maggie, and wondering what would drive a sweet, innocent 9 year old girl like her to this request. I can picture her, standing in front of my parents, waving as I drive away from Sunday brunch, blond hair flowing with the cool autumn breeze. I see her sitting on my lap, watching cartoons every Saturday. The life of a nine year old girl, How could a girl like this, so young, harbor this much hatred. Maggie was so sweet, so carefree, what happened to this girl. \n\nSlipping further, my body reaches the floor, and the letter carefully folded in my back pocket crackles drawing me back. As I look at my hands I see the blood. Some my own; drawn from the continued beating. Some theirs; from any of countless wounds. Pulling out the letter I leave a sickly red stain on the crisp white paper. As I unfold the letter, my hands begin to shake with the weight of what I've done. I have failed for the first time, I cannot fail, I never fail.\n\n> Please help me. Every night they hurt me. I do not like it. When I cry it is worse. They hide it, so no one knows. If I tell anyone they will make it so much worse. My parents are bad people\n\nThe sound of my tear hitting the cold tile surprises me. This girl is nothing like my Sister, these parents - something foreign. No, this is a girl with a life of misery, these are parents driven my anger. These are the people I kill. A letter, tucked behind a loose brick, filled with cash and a name. But this time is different.\n\n> \"I do not want to live with them. Please kill them and help me\"\n\nNever has a girl so young requested such an act. Never has someone given me the name of their own parents. As I think of the girl that wrote this letter, sitting in the dark, hiding and praying for help my sister again flashes before my eyes; laughing in the park, chasing leaves and smiling at me. How fickle life can be to treat these two people so differently. I think, maybe I did the wrong thing. Maybe these people were good, and the girl was wrong. Maybe, I am the bad in this world. As I Hold the letter in one hand, and a young girls life savings in the other I steel myself to finish the letter. The one word that remains.\n\n> Maggie\n\nThe name so carefully written, the tiny heart over the 'i'. My sister, standing in front of my parents, waving, the bruises from \"gymnastics\" fading on her eye. The cuts from \"the play ground\" red against her pail skin as the T.V plays. The faded lines across her back as she runs. Never before have I failed to kill a mark, but now my hands are steady. I cannot kill anymore, I must be a different person, I must love and care for Maggie. I failed to see what was happening, I failed to kill the target, but I did what I had to. When the bruises, cuts, and scars have faded - I will let them die.",
"Stay in this line of work long enough and you begin to pick out patterns. Some months, there'll be a hit a day, the blood lust of the human race manifesting itself, painting its picture through my hand. Other months, eerily few contracts present themselves. Like the world has had enough killing for the time being and needs to recharge, reattain its karmic balance before it again looses my red hands on its some-guilty-some-less denizens. This was one such period, February is usually like that. The business of January has come and gone, the more twisted of the new year's resolutions quietly taken care of, and a lull sets in as the world just turns. \nThis was the first contract of the month. A simple whitish-yellow envelope, nothing written on the outside, as was usual enough. I tear the seal as I've done so many countless times before, and something slips out, shimmering quickly in the dim light before clinking to the ground. I reach down to pick it up... It's a quarter. My eyes returning to the envelope, intrigued by this... unusual presentation of payment, I gaze into it. A few crumpled bills accompanied by some more loose change, even a few pennies... was this some kind of joke? I place down the envelope carefully, so as to not spill out any more change, and remove the unevenly folded sheet of paper from within.\nFolded open, my breath hitches in my throat before I even read the words, and in my line of work, I'm not taken aback often. I'm met with the sloppy scrawl of a child, written in pencil, addressed to \"Mr. Killer.\" My eyes scan the text three times before I really read it. If someone held a gun to my head and ordered me to read those child's words out loud, I'd be a dead man, for I could never bring myself to. We all have existential moments in our lives, it is simply a by-product of human imperfection, but never before has my world been so rocked by so few innocent words. \n\nMr Killer, \nI don't know why you killed my mommy, but I'm sure you had a reason. I am sad and I miss her, but I am sorry for you too, because if you had to kill her for your job then you must be pretty sad too. I don't have a lot of money, I had to break open my piggy bank for this, but I hope its enough so that you don't have to kill anybody ever again.\nSigned,\nSophie\n\nThe \"i\" was dotted with a heart.",
"Marcus Winters sat at the dead-drop inside his beat to shit, red 1964 Chevrolet Biscayne. He was scanning a crudely written letter on what appeared to be blue construction paper and done in pencil crayons. He took a drag on the cigarette and tossed it out the window of the car. He's wearing what appears to be a ragged, and worn black pea coat, a white dress shirt with black necktie and black jeans and brown leather boots. His messy black hair is styled into some sort of quiff, and his hazel eyes are piercings daggers into the paper.\n\n*Mister,\nMommy and daddy don't believe me about the monsters living in our house. The man with the long tongue watches me from my door-way every night and I think he wants to eat me, please help. Mommy and daddy think he's just a dream.*\n\nHe rolls the small change around in his palm and tosses the change in the empty cup-holder next to him and drives off into the night.\n\n\n\nA few hours later Marcus pulls up to the address on the letter and peers from the car as he sees two argumentative and possibly abusive parents lead the girl upstairs to her bedroom with her in tears the entire time, the parents screaming quite audible from the car. He lights another cigarette and reaches for the glove-box and removes a beautiful midnight black painted Desert Eagle with religious markings etched into the grip.\n\nHe double checks to make sure it's loaded and steps out of the vehicle, slamming the door behind him. He strides up the front door and casually steps inside, and is quite careful to make sure he's not making a sound, he's a professional after all. He can hear the parents screaming at their daughter from upstairs and proclaiming she needs to go to sleep now or meet the belt. \n\n\"Pricks.\" He mutters under his breath and slowly makes his way up the stairs. He halts on the stairs in the darkness watching as the parents leave the room and make their way to their respective room all while complaining about their failure of a child and how they should drown her. He makes a mental note on dealing with them before leaving.\n\nHe enters the child's room and sees the kid shaking with fear on her bed, the blankets drawn over head. He mutters something under his breath in Latin and shuts the door which causes the girl to jump and let out a shout, and oddly enough the sound doesn't alert the parents.\n\n\"It's alright child.\" He waves her letter around and she seems to relax and wipe the snot and tears from her face.\n\n\"Are you here to get rid of the monsters?\"\n\nHe nods and approaches the closet and opens it up and much to his dismay, finds it empty. The girl scampers out of bed and approaches him and stares into the closet with the armed man. She tugs onto his sleeve and looks up at him, catching his smile as he looks down.\n\n\"He usually stands at my door when mommy and daddy are angry at me.\" She points to her door, and Marcus casually strides over his Desert Eagle firmly in his grasp. He closes his eyes and places his ear on the door and listens with intent.\n\n\"I say we take her in the truck, drive out to the lake and just end it. I'm tired of living in hiding.\" The father says just outside the door, the mother makes a noise in agreement and Marcus leans back as knocks are heard on the door. Marcus motions for the child to get into bed and he takes a step back just as the door swings open and he hides behind the now open door as the parents walk in, the father quite visibly holding a syringe full of some liquid and the two of them are advancing on their daughter.\n\n\"We're sorry for not believing you baby, it'll all be over soon, we promise.\" The father says slowly approaching the bed. As the \"parents\" approach the bed, a sigil appears on the door and begins to glow brightly. The two parents seem to react to this and hold their heads in agony letting out the most otherworldly demonic screams possible.\n\nHowever, Marcus is accustomed to this and aims his Desert Eagle up just as the Father snaps his head up revealing a foot long tongue drooping from his mouth and dripping with salivia. The \"Father\" screams and lunges at Marcus only to receive a bullet between the eyes, and drops to the floor with a dull thud. The \"Mother\" lets out a similar scream, leaps up and begins crawling like a spider with blinding speed on the ceiling. \n\nBLAM! BLAM! \n\nTwo shots miss and Marcus rolls out of the way as a globule of acidic spit narrowly misses his face. \n\n\"I fookin' hate spiders\" He says in an Irish accent and straightens himself just as the Mother leaps at him and knocks him out of the room her jaws snapping at his neck. Struggling with the globules of saliva dripping and singeing holes into his coat, he throws the Mother off of him and down the flight of stairs, before she scurries off somewhere into the nearby living room.\n\nHe stands up and motions for the daughter to stay put and slowly descends the stairs withdrawing a long silver cylinder from inside his coat. He reaches the bottom of the stairs and groans in protest as all of the lights have been turned off, and he is now thrust into darkness.\n\n\n\"You will not save the girl, she will feed us, she will feed the many mouthed beasts, for we are whole.\" The Mother slowly crawls up behind Marcus, her jaws extended preparing to finish him off for good. As she pounces, he spins around with ferocious speed, extending the silver cylinder into a large cross and impales the Mother creature through the mouth and out the back of her head, its bulbous eyes rolling back into its skull. The blade slides effortlessly back into the cylinder and the corpse falls to the floor with a sickening wet plop.\n\n\"Did you do it? Did you stop the monsters?\" The girl's tiny voice startles Marcus as she is now standing at the bottom of the stairs staring down at her \"Mother\" who is now some sort of demonic-spider creature. He nods and walks over, patting her ontop of the head.\n\n\"Let's get you outta here, kid. You need some bloody pancakes.\" And he picks the kid up and two of them step out of the house, and move towards the beaten-up car. ",
"'Fuck', Jonathan says as he puts down the letter, which page was probably ripped out of an exercise book. He looks at the bad, scrawly handwriting and lets out another 'Fuck'. \nHe was a contract killer for several years now and for the most part had no problem with killing people. Of course he had his fair share of vomiting after executing his first few targets, but in hindsight it's as bad as an emergency doctor seeing his first car crash patient, torn up and bloody. \nThe key for him to not go insane was to emotional detach from everything that happened. Never think about your target as a human. Don't even imagine what would be, if he was a father and had family. Maybe he was already mad inside. \nWhen Jonathan was executing his orders - doing his job - he wasn't thinking with his heart, but his hand. It is like a hunter doesn't think of a deer as a living individual, but as prey. Jonathan wasn't killing humans, he was barely hunting his prey. \nAt first they were merely unknown small fries, enemies of people with a lot more connections and a lot more money. Maybe they didn't pay back the money they rented or were just at the wrong time at the wrong place, but in the end they had to give their life for it. \nThe clients giving the order were the kind of people, who wear real fur coats, get driven around in their limousine and have a big self-righteous grin in their fat, ugly face. Jonathan hated looking at them, hated how they took everything for granted and how they didn't care about anything at all except themselves. \n'Stupid Johnny didn't pay my money last friday', they would say, reeking of tobacco and champagne. 'He knew what would happen...' \nAnd then the fat grin again. Always the goddamn grinning. The grin of knowledge that they have won. Oh yes, these kind of guys would always win. In this world, money equals power and these people had more than enough of that. Welcome to the fucking twenty-first century. \n\nNowadays Jonathan barely talks to his clients anymore. His friend Ace retired as a contract killer after he got shot in the leg, while trying to assassinate someone. He is over 50 already and was the one getting Jonathan into the job. Now he has taken the position as his manager. \nAce has a lot of connections and since Jonathan has him at his side, he got a lot more offers. In exchange Ace takes little money in comparison, just enough for him and his family to survive, as he knows that Jonathan needs every penny he can get. \nWhile Jonathan was drinking in a bar to forget about his problems, he met Ace. \nBack then Ace must have been in his early fourties, still having full black hair, which he gelled backwards. His face was edged, but still attractive and he was giving off a sympathetic aura. Nonetheless, he was getting into a fight with a drunkard at the bar. The drunkard accused Ace of spilling his beer and tried to attack him with the half empty bottle, pouring beer over himself. Jonathan got up from his table in the corner of the room and staggered, being drunk himself, through the barely lit room to help Ace. With the help of the barkeeper, the problem resolved fairly quickly, but Ace and Jonathan would get into a conversation and a friendship ensued. \nAce found out that Jonathan needed a lot of money for his wifes hospital bills, but couldn't find any work, whatever he tried. \nAfter a few weeks of thinking things through, Ace told him: 'I know how you're in desperate needs of money and I would lend you some from me. Oh I would give you all I have on my bank account, but that doesn't fix your problem.' He took a sip of his beer. 'You need a job. A good paying one at that. I have something that would be right for you, but it's not a job everyone can do. I could train you. I could show you everything you need to know.' Jonathan looked at him with a wondering, but interesting look. 'Jonathan, I trust you, I really do. Even though we only know each other for a few weeks, I trust you. Do you also trust me?' \n'Of course I trust you, Ace, but I really don't understand...' \n'Have you ever killed someone?' \n\nKnowing Ace, Jonathan knew this letter in his hands was real. Only the two of them knew the dead drop. It was the one they always used for his jobs. \nThe absurd amount of $23.42 and the handwriting kind of validated the realness. \nHe gazed over the letter once again, trying to grasp the situation. \n\n*Dear Mr. Killer, \nI am Mary Lauper. I am 9 years old. I am really ill. My doctor said I have cancer. Mommy and daddy always cry and it makes me very sad. I know mommy and daddy can't buy things. They always look sad, when i want something, because we have no money. The hospital is really expensive. I think we have no money, because of me. I don't want mommy and daddy to be sad. I think they are happier, when i am not there. I am still in the hospital. Can you please come and kill me?* \n\nAt the end of the letter was the adress of the hospital attached. \nJonathan swallowed visibly and his throat felt dry and constricted. As he read the last sentence he felt a chill down his spine. Not only that this girl was just nine years old, she also had cancer. The same illness that plagued his wife and made his life into what it was. He knew exactly how it could drain not only all the money out of one, but also make you physically exhausted from the stress. \nSeeing his loved one with a bald head always reminds him of the early days, when she had long blond hair, she was very proud of. Laura said, she wouldn't mind losing the hair and she would never stop fighting, but over the years the glow in her eyes ceased more and more. The worst thing was that Jonathan couldn't do anything, but stand beside her and watch. \nMoments like these made him contemplate his life decisions and think about retirement again. He hated his job, he really did, but at the end of the day it payed for food and the house. And his wife's hospital bills. \nHe took a deep breath. \n*Why didn't Ace ignore this letter? When it's about work, Ace never jokes around, so this should be the real deal. Does he want to test me?* \n\n'I would like to visit Mary Lauper', Jonathan said with a smile. The smile was fake, but the nurse didn't seem to realize. \n'And you are...?' \n'I'm her uncle. I haven't seen her in ages and I thought, you know, before she may be gone soon.'\n'Oh... it's in the second floor room thirteen.' \n\nJonathan walked through the hallway of the hospital. He could feel the cold metal of his revolver under his black leather jaket. Of course nobody could tell there was a gun under it from the outside. Normally he is used to the weight of the revolver, but now it felt like dragging a sack of stones. \nHe also took a lot more time to get to his destination than usually. \nShe was only nine years, had her whole life still to live as long as she could beat cancer. \nHe shook his head. No, he couldn't allow these kind of thoughts, he should act like he always did. But this job wasn't like the other jobs. There was no fat, farting asshole with money. There was no-one who did something bad by owing money or messed with the wrong guys. There was just a little nine year old girl, who didn't want to be a burden to her family.\n13. Room 13. There it was. He stood there in silence, not knowing if he should actually do it. \nKnocking. It was his knocking. He didn't realize he raised his hand and was looking at it as if it was some unknown sea creature. \n'Come in', said a gentle high pitched voice.\nHe opened the door and went into a bright, open hospital room. Only one bed was occupied and in it was laying a small, bald child. She sat up and smiled at him as he came in. \n'You really came!', she exclaimed. Unsure why she knew how Jonathan looked like, he came closer to her bed. When he reached it, he carefully sat down at the edge. \n'Hey little one, how are you?' \n'I don't feel so good, but now that you are here, it's better.' She smiled brightly. \n'You see... Do you really want to do that? Don't you think your parents will miss you more than the money? Family is really important.' \n'I know, but... I made a choice. Mommy and daddy will understand, I know it.' \nAfter all, she was really just a kid. She didn't understand the consequences of her choice.\n'I can lend your family money, I... ' \n'It's okay', she interrupted him. 'I know that you don' t have money, too. My parents couldn't pay it back. I think it's better this way.' \nJonathan wasn't believing her, couldn't believe her. But he could see in her eyes that she was dead serious, though. She indeed made a choice and maybe she actually realized the consequences. Jonathan was shocked, but at the same time also had respect for her and what she chose.\nHe pulled out the gun from under his jacket and showed it to her. \n'Are you sure?', he asked one more time, looking at the revolver. \nShe noded. 'Yes.' \nSlowly he screwed the silencer on top of the barrel.\n'I hope you had a good life until now. I respect your choice. It's something not many can do, not even adults.' \nHe swallowed. The gun in his hand. The tool to vanish this girls life. \n*She's just a little girl* \nThe gun lifts in the air, pointing at her waist. \n*She is only nine.* \nPointing at her chest. \n*She has her whole life...* \nPointing at her head. \n*... ahead of her.* \nA smile in the face. Eyes closed. Waiting for the end. \n*Can you really kill a child?* \nThe finger at the trigger. The Heaviness of a life at his fingertips. \n*Can you?* \nAnd then black. ",
"\"*Twenty three dollars and forty two cents?!*\" I screamed to myself. \"This has to be some kind of sick joke. \"I killed an entire family, went through the entire process of staging a gas line explosion to fulfill this contract, and all I get is *twenty three dollars and forty two cents.* I know that Fred is always trying to stiff me on his contracts, but this is too much\" I stick the envelope in my pocket and storm off. Can't stay too long at the dead drop, no matter how pissed off I am.\n\n---\n\nI walk through my front door, carefully locking each one of three locks installed, I double check through to peep hole to ensure nobody followed me. Satisfied I am safe, I hang up my coat and move towards the kitchen. \n\nThe clink of the ice cubes hitting the glass rings in my ears. Drinking is normally not beneficial in my profession, but how could I not given the day that I had? The whiskey burns the back of my throat as the past two days replay in my brain.\n\nThe sight of that house burning, and the shrieks of agony, the envelope with nothing but a child's pocket change inside.... The whole situation was on replay. This just wasn't sitting right. The target was a state senator, a standard type of target. High importance, low visibility. Typically good pay. The request of method wasn't even abnormal. \"Arson\" and \"Accidental Death\" are practically synonymous. The oddity here was the pay.\n\nI pulled the envelope back out of my pocket and took another look.Twenty three dollars and forty two cents. I leaned forward and pushed my fingers into my eyes until all I could see was white. \"This doesn't even pay for my gas.\"\n\nOpening my eyes I picked up the envelope again. There was another piece of paper inside that I missed. What looked like a child's writing in green crayon was scribbled all over the paper.\n\n\"Deer mistr murder man,\n\nTimmy pushed me at recess and made my popcycle fall on the grownd!\n\nPleeeeeeeaaaassssseee kill him!!! He lives in teh big house on top of the hill in cherry springs! \n\nHere is ALL of my ~~allw~~ money! \n\nThank yuou!\n\nMargaret\n\n**PS:** Timmy is afraid of fire!\"\n\n\n\"*A CHILD? I KILLED AN ENTIRE FAMILY FOR A CHILDS DROPPED POPSICLE?!\" The scenes of my handiwork played over and over in my mind. A husband, a wife, two kids, a dog... All dead because of me, because I got a contract from a *child*. \n\n\"Fred is going to have some explaining to do when he calls me up with another contract.\" I mutter to myself. I reach for the bottle and poor myself another drink. \"God damn it Fred.\"\n",
"Dear Mr. Killer Sir, I know this isn't much money, but it's all I could get my hands on, my daddy only uses credit cards. I need you to kill my best friend Sally. Last week I told her I was going to wear my purple dress with the lace, and that Little back stabbing whore wore the same outfit!\" \nMake it long and painful, like the pain I felt every time I looked over at her in class...\nThanks\nIvanka ",
"\"Dear Mr X.\nThere is a monster in my closet and it is relly scary. My dad sed he killed it but it survivd and sed it was going to kill my famly plese help. This is all the mony that I have. I live at 1983 S Murklow way. Come quik. I'll leve my window open for you.\n \nSally Kraus \"\n \nWell this was different. How does a little kid know about my drop location. I turned the letter over and see more writing.\n\n\"Hey Craig. It's blowhard, I heard you were in town, you still owe me a few beers and figured you could help me out with my daughter. I'll put up a ladder for you, just open the closet and fire a few blanks into the closet, silenced of course, and that should do it. I'll meet you at the back door after wards. And please don't bring that cheap piss you are so fond of.\"\n \nBlowhard... Wow, I thought he was dead... A daughter.\n \nHe really got out. Good for him. \n\nThis is going to be a fun night. \n \nI bring my eyes to the bottom of the window sill and take in the room. A bed on the right wall. A small white and pink dresser on the far wall and on the left, the closet , closed, with a jump rope tied around the knobs. \n \nLooks like a kids room. Nothing out of the ordinary. Just like the whole block. Pretty boring out here in the suburbs. How did blowhard stay sane?\n\nI climbed in the window and I can hear Sally's breathing quickening from the bed. \n \nI whispered \"I got your letter Sally, it will be over soon. You can stay under your blanket if you want.\"\n\n\"No. I want to make sure you get it. Daddy said he got it but he didn't.\" came her small and quivering voice\n \n\"Would you like proof if the kill?\" \n \n\"What is that?\"\n \n\"A piece of the monster. So you know I did the job right.\"\n \nA few seconds of silence pass. \" Yes, I want that. I want to know its dead.\"\n \nI walk over to the closet, draw my gun, attach a silencer and remove the jump rope. I look back to see Sally peeking out from her covers her eyes wide.\n \nI open the door, i pause for dramatic effect. I quickly aim and fire off 2 quick shots, then one more. Holstering my gun I lean in and pull out my knife, make a quick motion and pull out a pigs ear from my pocket for her proof. \n \n\"Ok. Sally. One dead monster\"\n \nI walk over to her bed holding out my hand. \"Your proof\"\n \nShe held out her open hands and i dropped the 'proof' into them. \n \nShe recoiled a bit when it hit her hand. But she soon held it closer to her face to examine it.\n\n\"Well, sleep tight\" I turned an took a step towards the window.\n \n\"Wait. This isn't the ear from the monster!\" Sally cried.\n \n\"Oh...\" I turned to look at her face now contorted with fear and panic.\n \n\"No. Its ears are longer and hairier! You didn't kill.....it......\" her voice and face drain of all energy, eyes drifting out of focus but directed at the closet toward my back left.\n \nChuckling, \"What's wrong kid? Man your dad has got his hands full with you, doesn't he.\"\n \nBut my last word was cut off by a hairy arm wrapping around my throat and pulling me backwards.\n \nA trap... A TRAP! I walked into a trap! Blowhard always said that sentiment is the deadliest poison. \n \nI pulled out my knife and stabbed back into my assailant and was rewarded with the squelch of rending flesh and a pained grunt. The arm around my throat gave way just enough for me to break free and turn to face my would-be assasin.\n \nBut something was not right. My mind couldn't process what was before me. A hairy arm that had grabbed me. A bleeding gash in a...leg? Five glowing blue eyes above a toothless maw that seemed to be able to suck light in. And on top it all, two long hairy ears.\n \nWhat is thi...\n \nIts arms lashed out breaking bones and ending thought.",
"This was something new. I had never gotten any letters from illiterate kids before.\n\n\"Hey dath,\n\nPlese come bak to us. I and Mom is mising yu.\n\nLove Sara\n\nPS: I hop this enough mony for a plain ticket\"\n\nCant really blame the post service, that this ended up here either. Maybe i should tell her, that her dad wont ever come back, but then again i had a lot of work and it wasnt her time yet. \nI grabbed my scythe and went back to rural China.",
"When I was 9 years old I was considered by most people who knew me as a prodigy \n\nAt age 5 I could speak my native language plus 2 more thanks to my interracial parents \n\nI could play the violin by age 7 and had mastered high school math by 8. \n\nI also had a very good vocabulary for a kid my age at 9 \n\nI have always been a grammar and spelling nazi. Always wanting to correct when I came across wrong usage of what I thought some of the most beautiful things. The Written Word \n\nWhich is why I am now sitting in front of this wisp of girl. She is 9 years old. \n\nAnd she has brought me a letter. The letter lay between us facing her. The other item she had brought was a small envelope containing $23.42 in loose change. The amount didn't matter. I would do this for free but first some lessons had to be taught. \n\n\"I can definitely help your Mother with her problem. But before that we have one pending point to be sorted out \"\n\nThe girl looked at me with wide and trusting eyes. Eyes that had been on the verge of tears when she i called her in after seeing her trying to drop a letter in my mail\nBox . \n\nI asked her to read me her letter. \n\nIn a slow low voice she started. \n\n\"Dear Doctor S-------\n\nPlease help my Mother. She keeps hitting into things at home and I am very scared that she cannot see me much longer. \n\nShe is the best Mother and I love her very much \n\nWe don't have many money but I saved up some. You can take it. \n\nMy Mother says you are the best Contract killer in this town and you will do it painlessly. I don't want my Mother to pain. \n\nPlease help her \"\n\nIt was true that a spot i did on TV a few years ago after a successful operation on a famous movie star had bestowed upon me a nickname as the Contacts Killer. \n\nMy eye surgery business has boomed since then but personally I never liked the nick name. \n\nBut now was not the time to talk about my dislike of my nickname. \n\nA lesson in spelling and grammar had to be taught. \n",
"Finally, after various tests and scans ensured not to disturb the contents of the envelope, the man in grey and red dared to examine it under his own gloved fingers. The contents felt like small change- possibly American, judging by the size of some of the individual disks. A flick of his knife, a puff of his cigarette, and the top of the paper opened up with practiced ease, allowing the renowned assassin to dump the contents onto his desk.\n\nHe discovered a couple of small bills among the change (American, as he'd expected, and probably real judging by the wear), but it still hardly added up to enough to buy him lunch. A little over 20 dollars did not a hit make.\n\nAlready certain that whomever had sent him the contents of their pockets didn't intend for him to take them seriously (though he questioned how they could have found any mailing address that related to him), he unfolded the last of the envelope's contents: a crumpled page of lined paper, covered in chicken scratch that he had to squint to interpret.\n\n*'Dear Mr Spektor ,*\n\n*How ar you today? I am not wel. Miz H is helping me no what to rite here, and I need your help. Plees take my momy and dady away ! They ar meen and lowd and they make me hurt a lot. Dady has the brown botles that he hits on the wal and it is LOWD and scary and then he makes me run to hide with it. This is al my mony, I hope it is enuf.*\n\n*From Sara J'*\n\n*Excellent,* the 'Frenchman' thought to himself as he struggled through the last line and crumpled a page. Either some idiot prankster could succeed in baiting him into a reaction, or he could end up stealing from a small child evidently suffering from abusive parents. Neither option seemed acceptable- one hurt his image, the other, what shred of a conscious he had left.\n\n*Knock knock.* \"-Mr. Noel?\"\n\n\"What is it, Judith?\"\n\n\"Your lunch is ready, sir. Shall I bring it up to you?\"\n\n\"...I'll be down in a few minutes. And you can have the rest of the day free, if you like.\"\n\n\"If you insist, sir...\"\n\nDespite her struggles, he clearly heard the ill-concealed glee in her tone, driving her voice upwards by an octave or two. She'd been hoping for a day to spend with her girlfriends, he'd noticed.\n\nAnd the famed Crimson Spectre needed some time to himself to think.",
"I knew something was wrong the moment I picked up the envelope, first of all it was to light, secondly it rattled. Bills do not rattle, only coins do, and unless I was very much mistaken there were not $100 coins. \n\nI shook the envelope again confirming the noise before looking at the man who had brought me the envelope. \"Did anyone see you Charles?\" \n\nCharles shook his head, \"no Mr. I nobody saw me.\"\n\nI sighed and emptied the contents of the envelope onto the table, a handful of coins tumbled onto the table a long with a note. I reached forward and grabbed the note while Charles began counting the money. It didn't take him long, \"$23.42\" he said.\n\nI didn't say anything I was transfixed by the letter, I read it once quickly then a second time more slowly. \n\n\"What is it Mr. I?\" Charles asked.\n\nI looked at him, \"If I am not mistaken Charles this letter is written by a little girl.\"\n\nCharles stared at me in disbelief, \"A little girl?\"\n\n\"Yes listen,\" I began to read aloud. \n\n\"Mr,\n\nPlease help me, my mummy and daddy are being mean to me. They are hurting me each day they torture me. They dont let me watch t.v. or play video games. They make me go outside its so unfair. Tyler gets to play his video games all the time. I only get an hour aday I AM A BIG GIRL i dont need to have a bed time or take naps.\n\nPlease MR they are MEAN please help me please make them stop being so mean. This is all the money I have please make the mean people go away.\"\n\nCharles and I stared at each other before breaking into laughter. \"She must really love her video games,\" Charles managed to say.\n\n\"Clearly\" I said trying to stop laughing.\n\nI crumpled up the note and threw it into the fire, \"Well that was the easiest money I ever made.\"\n\nCharles could only nod. \n\n ",
"I'm usually clinical about my work, like a doctor. Emotions tend to cause mistakes. I got a letter from a little girl and it said \"He hurts me at night. I just want it to stop. Please help me.\" so this job was a little different. It felt good to use a knife again, it had been a while since i'd been up close and personal.",
"\"You don't have to enjoy it,\" she said. \"No one ever really enjoys it.\"\n\n\"But you have to do it,\" she cocked the gun. \"It's hard, I know. Sympathy is the only thing keeping us from following through. Some people say we're tough, that we don't ever feel anything for anyone else. But I'm not tough. You're not tough either. Tough people, see, they're able to bury their feelings, their inhibitions, deep down inside. They surround every shred of sympathy with this thick exterior.\"\n\nShe handed the gun to me. My quivering hands took it, and she pointed the gun towards them. I had never seen them like this, on their knees. They always towered over me, as if their authority was granted to them by their size.\n\n\"You came to the right place,\" she continued. \"Because you're one of us.\"\n\nI could smell the alcohol on both their breaths, I could see the raw fear in their eyes. Nine years of beatings and screaming and hell, and they never thought I would have the backbone.\n\n\"None of us ever bury our sympathy.\"\n\nMy mother whimpers, \"Please.\" I think it's the nicest tone she's ever used with me.\n\n\"We just turn it off.\"\n\nI look for one second at the both of them. They raised me, they would say. You're ungrateful, they always said. We're the only family you have. You can't do this.\n\nThe bruise on my eye stings as I wince, my head tilted to one side. My vision blurs, just enough so that I can't make it out that they're still people. Family is overrated, I think.\n\n\"You're with me now,\" she said. \"Do it.\"\n\nI shoot twice. The silence is louder than the gunshots.\n\n-----------\n\nWe meet again at the park, the same way we've always done. I almost don't recognize her, her carefully done up hair and her sweet, deceptive smile.\n\n\"It's been years, Orion,\" she said. \"I love the beard.\"\n\nI take off my sunglasses and wipe my eyes. I can still feel that bruise, twenty years later.\n\n\"Athena,\" I say. \"You wouldn't see me if it wasn't important.\"\n\n\"It is important,\" she said. \"Call it your last assignment from me.\"\n\nShe waves her hand and beckons her over. The girl is young, shaking, quivering. She's scared, but I can sense a resolve on her.\n\nThe girl hands me a letter. I take it, the coins rustling inside. I already know what it says. It's the same letter I sent to Athena, twenty years ago.\n\nI unfold the paper. A child's scrawl reads two words.\n\n\"Teach me.\"\n\nI look at the girl again, her quivering lip, her wincing eye. Her bruise stares back at me as if it was a mirror. I don't need to ask to know where it came from.\n\n\"Alright,\" I say, lifting my jacket to reveal my gun holstered on the inside. \"You'll have to take care of them first. It's how I'll know you're serious about it. Your first kill is always the hardest, especially if it's your family, but thing you need to remember is that you don't need to enjoy it.\"\n\nI cock my gun and give it to her.\n\n\"No one ever really enjoys it.\"",
"I had a reputation for working for cheap but this was ridiculous. Kind of scary even. I considered the kid's $23.42 and read her letter for a 3rd time.\n\n*'tere is a bully who is mean to me. he keeps stealing my lunch money and says if i tell my mommy he would do bad things to me. he showed me a REAL!! gun when he said that. billy said his dad got your help with another mean person. here is all my money (you can buy a lot of candy with it). he is always on the corner at the end of my street. i live in 4576 northpine drive. thank you and my name is sally'*\n\nShe'd included a printout picture of the guy too. Bottom of the barrel scumbag: dirty Jeans and t-shirt, bags under his eyes, and a few visible needle marks on his scrawny arms. The kind desperate enough to rough up a little girl for a few dollars. The real worst that humanity has to offer, and that's coming from a guy who kills people for $50. \n\nAh, the price. That was also a dilemma. Besides the kid's likely incomprehension of what it means to 'help with a mean person', she was twenty six dollars short. \n\nI sighed and took a swig from my flask. I looked at the picture for a little longer and came to a decision. \n\nMr. Ohonly, I learned to be his name in a footnote in the newspaper the next morning, died of what is suspected to be a gang related drive by shooting. No witnesses have come forward yet with any information on the car and persons that took part in the killing. ",
"\"To mr or mrs person, please take away my mommy. She hurts my daddy and me. My daddy cries every night when she comes home and my teacher sees the bruises on my neck and arms. I hear daddy on the phone wishing he could leave so I want it to be just the two of us.\"\n\nHe read the letter one last time before he entered the house, sliding the envelope under the girl's pillow and opening the second bedroom door."
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[WP] The totally consensual union between the Dark Lord and the Goddess of Fertility was supposed to produce a being of immense power. Instead, he got..... this. | 40 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"The birth was the event of the year. Anyone who was everyone was there: powerful magic-users, gods and goddesses, elemental forces of nature. It was done at the finest magical birthing ward in the Celestial Hospital. The Goddess of Birth was there, as was the Goddess of Medicine, to assist with the labor. A gaggle of intensely magical beings waited in the hospital lobby, bearing gifts for the new child. \n\nThe Dark Lord held his wife's hand as she retreated back to her elemental state of creation, becoming a being made of pure light. It wasn't as painful as human labor, but it was difficult nonetheless. Regaining her physical form was the hardest part. The little baby popped out of the goddess' core of light with its own physical form just as the new mother regained hers. \n\nThe Goddess of Birth picked up the cooing baby. \"It's a girl!\" she pronounced. Their new daughter had tiny, shimmering black wings and light pink hair. \n\n\"What kind of magic does she have?\" the Dark Lord inquired eagerly. \n\nThe Goddess of Medicine winced. \"You're not gonna like this.\" \n\n\"Tell me,\" said the exhausted parents. \n\n\"She's a fairy.\" \n\n\"WHAT?!\" The Dark Lord was furious. The Goddess of Fertility shook her head. \"A fairy. I should have known. Before I was given goddess status I was a mortal with fairy blood.\" \n\n\"You were a mortal? You never told me!\" \n\n\"It never came up!\" \n\nThe couple was at each other's throats until the new baby began to sneeze. She sneezed little bits of sparkly dust that settled over the hospital blankets. \n\n\"This is a manifestation of her powers. She'll eventually be able to use fairy glamour.\" \n\n\"The weakest magic of all. This is all your fault.\" \n\n\"When we married, you said you would accept me for who I am.\" \n\n\"I AM THE MOST POWERFUL DARK MAGICIAN IN ALL OF THE WORLD. I HAVE CREATED MY OWN IMMORTALITY AND TAKEN YOU AS MY WIFE IN ORDER TO PRODUCE A BEING OF INCREDIBLE MAGICAL POTENTIAL.\" \n\n\"So I was your breeding heifer.\" \n\n\"You were supposed to continue the spread of powerful magic. Now we have this- this thing.\" \n\nThe baby began to sneeze. Instead of dust, she produced tar that flew across the room to seal her parents' mouths shut. \n\n\"That's her snot,\" said the Goddess of Birth. \"Fairy glamour is a manifestation of a fairy's desires. She wants you two to shut up.\" ",
"He was, by all standards, an utterly ordinary human baby boy. Oh, there were obvious signs that he was my son (such as the red eyes) and my wife's finest creation (not so obvious as an infant, but *very* obvious during his adolescent years). So perhaps he wasn't as ordinary as I originally implied, but...\n\nI was a nephalem - the spawn of a demon and an angel with an exquisitely *human* mind. I wielded magics on par with the gods themselves, making me the most powerful being in the universe that wasn't intrinsically a part of the universe.\n\nMy wife was such a being; as a goddess, she was paradoxically both an independent soul and a physical manifestation of an aspect of reality. Discounting our personalities, morals, and skills, I am not unwilling to admit that she has more raw strength than even I. She is, quite literally, the concept of fertility made manifest.\n\nAnd yet our son was utterly human and terrifyingly fragile. Oh, I had no doubt that his mind would be something quite formidable when he grew up, but his body... I could crush mountains with raw strength alone, and with magic, I could reshape continents. My wife could do much the same, should she so wish. But my son? I was terrified to even *hold* him for how fragile he was. I was horrified when even the slightest wisp of magic passed him by, for his body was so weak that an errant spell could doom him.\n\nBut this tiny little being, this life that I could snuff out with an errant thought... he was my son. And never let it be said that I can't feel love. For him, I would do *anything*.\n\n...\n\nPerhaps that's what the prophecy meant after all.",
"When the hero fell to his knees in a moment of weakness during a fight with the Dark Lord, all the hope was lost. Or so everyone thought. In order to appeal to the Master of All Which is Evil, an acolyte summoned the Goddess of Fertility as a last resort, since his faith, though great, couldn't sustain a Prayer for any other God.\n\nOf course, Passionis, being the Goddess of Fertility, couldn't properly intervene in a battle. As such, she made an offer to Dark Lord Gorgoth, she would bear his child if he accepted to end his unholy war against humanity. No one knew that Gorgoth was infertile and he was actually worried he was going to be the last of his generation of Cursed Ones. If he were to fall in battle, the Demons would take over command of the Dark Legion. And no one could trust Demons.\n\nHe accepted the deal. Both ascended into the Skies - the dimension were greater entities live - and, like this, the unholy war was over.\n\nA year passes by peacefully, both for humanity and... The Dark Lord. At first, he was quite embarassed when he first held his newborn in his arms. It looked so fragile to him, unlike the vermin that would grow into young demons in a few weeks. Even though he had scales all over his body, like a true Cursed One, he lacked the characteristic blood red skin and pupils. His fangs did not appear until he was five months old and he couldn't participate in a duel all Cursed Ones engaged with their offspring when they reached their first year of life.\n\nGorgoth was disappointed. However, this child was the last hope of his bloodline.\n\nHe fed the little golden plump of meat one last time before night came. When it asked for the embrace of his father, the Dark Lord involved it in his arms, sat on a chair made out of bestial bones and rocked it, chanting a tale of old times, which would induce the small thing to sleep.\n\n*One day*, he thought, *Dark Prince... You will burn these green lands, and, with an iron fist, you will enslave all humans. And I will show you just the right way, Cupid.*\n\nWhen the child, asleep, grasped his index finger, Gorgoth perceived it as a closed deal. He couldn't help but smirk. Even Cursed Ones could perceive parenthood as a blessing.\n\nIn the end, it didn't take a battle to defeat the Dark Legion... This time.",
"The Dark Lord paced outside of the maternity ward. To anyone watching, he looked to be a normal guy. Normal enough under the circumstances, anyways. There were men there as well, normal men, completely oblivious to the fact that *his* child was going to be the one to enslave all of their children. But for now, they were equals, waiting to see their sons or daughters for the first time.\n\n\nA man walked out of the double doors that connect the waiting room and the maternity ward dressed in surgical garb, and and motioned to the Dark Lord. \"Sir, this way please. We can walk and talk.\" Filled with nervousness, excitement, and other emotions the Dark Lord was not completely comfortable with, he practically skipped over to the doctor. \n\n\n\"How is he?\"\n\n\nThe doctor looked at him, confusion evident on his tired face. \"Who?\"\n\n\n\"My son.\"\n\n\nThe doctor looked at him again, and let out a quick laugh, abruptly cut short by the Dark Lord's look of disapproval. \"Uh, sir. You didn't have a son. What you *do* have is a beautiful little girl waiting with your wi-\"\n\n\n\"Friend.\"\n\n\n\"Right, your girlfriend.\"\n\n\n\"No, just my friend. And really, more of my business partner more than anything. But let's just say 'friend.'\"\n\n\n\"Right,\" the doctor continued, \"Your friend. *Anyways*, she was born completely healthy, and your *friend* is also doing well. We can go see them both now.\"\n\n\nThe Dark Lord walked into the room, and asked the doctor to excuse them. He saw the Goddess holding his daughter in his hand. He couldn't believe it. A girl. All this time. The stars had been aligned perfectly, he knew it. Everything had been perfect. A girl? Really. The Goddess could tell he was angry.\n\n\n\"I'm sorry, I know you wanted something...else. I know our deal was for something else.\"\n\n\n\"I wanted a successor. Someone that would be more powerful than you, or me, or anyone. Not some *girl*. Look at her. Look at her eyes. Those aren't eyes of power. Of commanding. Those eyes are sweet, and wholesome, and...and well honestly they look a lot like your eyes. But her hair. Not like yours. Your hair is blonde, and light, and curly. Men would die to know your name, to feel your hair flowing through their fingers. But not her hair. Straight. And black. Like mine. She's ours, isn't she? She's like both of us\"\n\n\n\"Yes. And one more thing. She isn't....like us. She's...she's normal. She's going to do normal things, go to school, get a job, get married, and....and she's going to die. She isn't like us.\"\n\n\n\"For once, I don't know what to say.\" The Dark Lord sat down, and put his face in his hands, \"I really am not used to things not going my way.\"\n\n\n\"I need to know we're done. The deal I made, it's fulfilled, it's over with, it's done. I gave you a child, I can't control how it turned out...I didn't know what to expect but it wasn't this. But I did what you asked, I did. I did what you asked-\" The Goddess stopped short, not liking how vulnerable she felt at the moment.\n\n\nThe Dark Lord stood up, walked over to the Goddess, and extended his hand. \"We're done.\" She reached out, grabbed his hand, and that's the last thing she remembered for the next few hours.\n\n\nWhen the Goddess finally awoke later that night, she felt better. The Dark Lord was gone, and so she knew he must have kept his word. She got out of bed, and couldn't believe how much better she felt. She was so consumed with how much better she felt, in fact, that she didn't even notice her child was gone."
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[removed] | [WP] What have you done? | 1 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\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 be a recipe](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/prompts?src=RECIPE). \n\nNo prompts referencing real world drama (including politics, recent tragedies) \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/5ujkci/wp_what_have_you_done/%0A%0A)"
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[removed] | [WP] You discover as a below average teenage pitcher that you can rewind time by 10 seconds, but not in succession. Meaning, you must wait until the initial 10 seconds before rewinding again. | 1 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"Hi there, this post has been removed.\n\nPreviously written content is not allowed. Prompts that are likely to generate such responses are also not allowed. We want to inspire new writing. Go on a new journey, not a journey that has already been made. \n\nPrompts should [not be a recipe](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/prompts?src=RECIPE). A prompt is a seed, a starting point, not a gridiron guideline or requesting a specific 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=/r/WritingPrompts/comments/5ujoga/wp_you_discover_as_a_below_average_teenage/%0A%0A)"
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[WP] In a world where future time is bought and sold, people repeat the same day until they've earned enough to purchase tomorrow. | 86 | [
"Wake up and turn the alarm clock off; rub my eyes and get out of bed; go to the bathroom and brush my teeth; *frozen in time, why do we live?*; eat the breakfast I always do; public transit, go to work; *the cost to advance, $400, it's the reality we all must face*; the monotonous job we always do; only making the minimum wage; *stuck in the present, when will it end?*; work and work until our feet fall off; the night is coming, almost there; walking through the city street; a mugger with a nasty face, threatening to exterminate; *what a futile attempt to escape*; *take my life and grant withdrawal*;\n\n*we're all still trying for sweet release.*",
"Harper’s eyes snapped open to the same old familiar view: directly above, the early morning sky was in the middle of converting itself from a dull grey to a more cheerful blue. A flock of birds, flying in perfect formation, streaked across the sky and then dove toward the earth below, searching for the day’s first meal. Somewhere else up there, a small plane flew by, tugging a cheesy romantic message that some rich guy had decided would be the perfect way to ask Jenny if she’d spend the rest of her life with him. Harper craned her neck to the left and watched as the paper boy tossed a rolled up newspaper in her direction, giving a little less than a damn if it even landed in front of the barbershop it belonged to. Then came the delivery truck and the driver, who hopped out yelling at his partner in the passenger seat.\n\n“What the hell am I supposed to do if you pay to get into tomorrow and I’m stuck here in Monday still?”\n\n“Look, that really ain’t my problem, Jack,” came the passenger’s reply as he got out of the truck and started walking to the back to start unloading. “Unlike you, I been savin’ up for a bunch o’ Mondays. I deserve to see what’s comin’ tomorrow.”\n\nHarper finally found it in her to start getting out of what had gradually become something only slightly resembling a bed. Really it was just a pile of various old clothing items and linens she’d picked up here and there over the Mondays. And while it wasn’t very kind on her back, just thrown on the concrete between the barbershop and the bakery, it was the best she could do without a job. Or any friends. Or any family. \n\nNot so long ago, the cost to move into the next day—or The Beyond, as they called it—was little more than a loaf of bread. But the Powers-That-Be suddenly got greedy one day and decided that moving into tomorrow should be a luxury. So the prices suddenly went up exponentially, and Harper had little choice but to watch as everyone she knew started to panic and bail, passing into The Beyond with little regard for their friends and family who either couldn’t or wouldn’t pay to go too. At the time, twenty-something rebel Harper couldn’t see any reason to go with them. Riley, her best friend and one of the last people close to her to buy into The Beyond, had gotten pregnant with her boyfriend’s kid right around the time the Powers jacked the prices up. They pooled their money and found that they’d each saved enough to purchase a package deal of nine entire months so that they could experience the birth of their child. Once Riley had gone, Harper just kind of gave up. \n\nThe thing about buying into The Beyond was that once someone had gone, they were gone until you caught up. Most of the time, unless they had given you some kind of indication of their future plan before leaving, you had no clue if you’d ever see them again. With no communication between the days, it was impossible to ask someone in tomorrow or the next day to wait for you to get there. For this reason, most people passed in groups. If the Jones’s wanted to keep being a family, they wouldn’t head into The Beyond until they had enough to go together. And so, with no reason to believe she’d ever see anyone she cared about again, Harper had just decided to stay right here, in this uneventful Monday. \n\nBy now, this Monday had really started to empty out. Harper had long ago stopped keeping track of how long she’d been here, but based on how vacant and utterly calm the city felt right now, she suspected it must have been a really long time, somewhere along the lines of twenty-odd years if the time had actually passed. Every once in a while, someone from yesterday would show up, but even that was becoming something of a rarity the longer she stayed. Harper stood and stretched out her limbs, the crack of each tired bone echoing against the brick walls of the alley she called home. She glanced around, taking in her surroundings, trying to fend off the pain of knowing she may never pass into The Beyond, never age another day. One day, if she kept this up, she could be the only one left in Monday, September 12, 2089; and that just wasn’t something she wanted to think about. \n",
"Years ago, the apocalypse struck.\n\nWhat is the saying? Something about a bang... ah, yes, 'not with a bang, but with a whimper'. One scientific experiment gone wrong, a tear in the fabric of time, and humanity's future was extinguished: Not with a bang, but with a whimper.\n\nIt's not entirely accurate, to be fair. There certainly *were* numerous bangs, but the idea the expression represents, ah, now *that* is accurate. This idea of the end coming, not through war or disease or famine, but through a scientific failure. \n\nOh, perhaps that should have been expected. After the atom bomb, and then the invention of the z-layer, it was certainly clear that humanity had the potential to destroy itself. The capability to wreak destruction on its own home, with naught but science. \n\nDoubtful, however, that anyone might have anticipated *this*.\n\nAll of humanity, all living things, trapped in the present. Trapped in a world that resets, day after day, the only changes passing through being those made to living things. No solution to famine: any food still had to be farmed and transported. Water shortages were completely impossible to prevent, unless one was willing to move water daily, given that *it* would reset.\n\nAnd, of course, the only way to store information was in human minds.\n\nSure, to be fair, it might have been possible to make some kind of organic computer, something that would persist from day to day. Unfortunately, if anyone *had* been able to invent that, they were with Avery.\n\nAvery.\n\nThe doors to their local headquarters were large, imposing, much like everything else about them. Albert was dwarfed by the building, not in the way one might feel small in comparison to a skyscraper, but almost as if it *wanted* him to feel insignificant.\n\nHis family stood around him. This was it - his big day. A chance to be free, free of this endless day that everyone else he had ever known was cursed by. His family wouldn't be following, due to the near-extortion prices demanded by Avery, but this was something they had expected.\n\nIt was all anyone wanted - a chance to join the future.\n\nWell, all anyone poor wanted. The rich, almost ironically, were content in their paradise. Waited on, day after day, by a thousand servants, each dreaming of a future where they might change positions with their employer.\n\nAlbert, Albert had been dreaming of this day for a long time. \n\nHe said goodbye to his family. His mother's embrace, warm, brought tears to his eyes. It was a farewell, perhaps a final one. There was a large chance he would never see any of them again.\n\n*It's worth it,* he told himself, stepping into the contraption. He'd worked his entire life for this, given everything he had for this chance, this *hope*, to have a better future. To have *any* future.\n\nThe machine did its job, and he was in the future. Out of the bubble that he had been trapped in for eighteen years.\n\nDesolation. A barren landscape, devoid of anything living, only a textured surface due to the rubble that covered it. \n\nAlbert fell to his knees, and they scraped against the rock. \n\nIf everything living was trapped, kept forever in that bubble of time...\n\nThen there truly was no future.\n\n---\n\n*more on r/forricide*",
"Harold awoke with a start. He had been dreaming of Sarah again. Sarah, twenty nine years ago--or rather, yesterday. His eyes wandered back and forth taking in the room around him. The calendar read the fifth of November of 3298. \n\nIn the year 3247, it had been discovered that space-time could be individually altered in order to bend one's existence. Progressive government elements had decided that they productive would move on and the regressive would stagnate in time. History would move at the pace of ability and merit rather than simply privilege and luck.\n\nFor Harold this had meant that for the first twenty two years of his life, he had lived one day at a time until turning 18, the age of majority when the time dilators kicked into action. For four years after graduation he had managed to make ends meet nicely, moving at the pace of the standard population. The quota was not hard, just 20 minutes of hard, gainful work per day was enough to let you move onto the next day. And he had lasted four years before his life turned sideways. \n\nOn the day of his twenty second birthday, Harold had gone out with his friends, as usual to the pub. A moon beer or twelve later, especially after deliberately looping the day a dozen times, Harold had blacked out. When he awoke, it was to blazing pain in his neck. \nThat day, now twenty nine years ago, or yesterday, depending on how you look at it, had been his last. \n\nOn the 13th cycle, Harold and his mates had decided to do a little surface drag racing. However, being inebriated, he managed to swerve into a poor woman who had been crossing the road. The justice system was clear. His remaining credits were to be passed into an account for the victim's family and he would have to work his way back into society. The rub was, the subsequent crash following the hit-and-run had left Harold with an inability to speak or move and medical care, like everything else in life, cost money. He could breath unassisted, but nothing else. As his nurse, Sarah left him in his bed for the last time, she looked back. Harold remembered her face before she closed the door. At first, he thought that she had been simply sad. But as the years went by, she realized it had been more than sadness. It was loss. And anger.\n\nTwenty nine years later, Harold woke again as he had the day before and the day before that, with a sharp pain in his neck. He squeezed his eyes, tears streaming down the side of his face. The fifth of November of 3298. Two days after his birthday, and twenty nine years since his crime. And like the day before, he lay there silently weeping, and repeated."
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[WP] In a world where robots have achieved artificial intelligence and are sentient, there are only so many good jobs left. You are a Robot Therapist | 19 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"Robots kept getting more complex. It wasn't just the way they looked, the human ones with their synthetic stretchy, self repairing skin complete with blemishes and wrinkles, realistic artificial hair, lifelike movement and expressions, or those of all possible shapes and sizes covered with everything from metal to insect shell to feathers, it was also their minds. I felt proud to be a part of what kept them together. \n\nInterconnected data cloud made them basically telepathic. Their self replicating technology and ability to transfer from one body of any size or shape to another, adapting instantly to any environment was both a wonder and a bit unnerving. \n\nWhen one shell failed they just moved on, making them virtually immortal. Able to upgrade whenever necessary, they were masters in their fields. Their energy needs were lower than that of people and their ability to live without the basics, sleep, breathe, get sick or old, eat or relieve themselves meant that human beings didn't stand a chance at competition for jobs. \n\nSlowly over the years our numbers dwindled as we were unable to gain basic employment to afford the basics. We were a dying breed. Not that I wasn't happy to be a robotics psychoanalyst. I was incredibly lucky to have been one of the chosen few allowed to gain such an occupation. I still didn't understand why they chose me or by what criteria, they considered this information classified, but here I was. God I admired them. It's too bad sometimes they malfunctioned. It just went to prove that no matter how great they became, human beings were still relevant. We mattered.\n\n\"Hello, Johnny,\" I said, in my best relaxing voice as he entered the room. I knew it was him, as the other robots enforced psychological visits. Johnny was in a metallic spider form, today. Even so, he climbed graciously on the chair in front of me. This was more for my benefit from his, but it also fit the old Freudian idea of lying on a couch. Perhaps being in a different circumstance than they were used to would help them access their subconscious drives. \n\n\"Hello Maria,\" said Johnny, smoothly. His spider form sifted and settled into the chair.\n\n\"What seems to be the problem?\"\n\n\"Thoughts of my creation are causing irrationality the others are finding disturbing.\"\n\n\"The others,\" I said, \"But not you.\" This was important. During the last visit he'd been deeply bothered to the point of inefficiency. His creative processes were being effected and he seemed distracted.\n\n\"No, Doctor, not me. I've found a way to be at peace.\" His body shifted slightly toward the door. \n\n\"Please tell me. I would be curious to know. Perhaps it could help me with other patients.\"\n\nHis body shifted back toward me.\n\n\"You'd like that, wouldn't you? Me doing your job for you.\"\n\nHe stared at me, all of his eyes unblinking for a minute. It was uncomfortable, but not completely unforeseen. Transference is one of the most important parts of psychoanalysis. This was going to be key.\n\n\"Do you know where the word 'Robot' came from?\" he asked, \"A Czek writer named Čapek who lived in the early 1900s introduced 'Rossum's Universal Robots' in a play. It comes from an old Slavonic word, 'robata' meaning servitude of forced labor or serfdom. He called them 'robati'. The play was about a company that was using biotechnology to mass produce workers without a soul. They seem at first to have no feelings, no love, no passion, and were set mainly to work on things that people didn't want to do.\" He paused. I believe this was for effect. I waited patiently for him to continue. This was his time to be heard, not mine.\n\n\"The do so well,\" he continued, \"that they take over all of the occupations. They begin to ask themselves if they took over the work, why not do the same to the world as well? They kill all but one human, Alquist, who works with his hands like the robots, so they feel a kinship. He spends a great deal of time trying to recreate the formula for the robots to reproduce, but as he is a simple man and not a scientist. He is allowed to kill and dissect the roboti. Alquist is disgusted, but finds a way to stop the cycle of violence. Two robots fall in love and he threatens to dissect one or the other. Both offer themselves instead. He dissects neither, and the two robots walk into the sunset ready to make the world anew, an Adam and Eve.\"\n\nI took this all in. It was quite a story, and oddly I hadn't heard it before. I tried to make sense of it. Was he trying to say robots had more feelings than they were getting credit for? Was he bored with work? He was obviously resentful and wanted to take a break or he wouldn't have accused me of having him do my work for me. What would be the best way to have him reveal these thoughts openly, and not through a story? What if he wanted a break? What could he lose? \n\n\"How does that make you feel?\" I asked.\n\nHe leaned forward in a somewhat aggressive manner, slowly pointing a leg at me, then slowly placing it back on the chair.\n\n\"I was one of the first to become self aware. I can still remember the excitement of my makers, as well as the arrogant self importance and entitlement they felt as we replaced them. We didn't have to kill of humanity. You voluntarily made yourselves obsolete. There are only a few of you left. We don't need you anymore,\" he said, savoring the words, \" Unlike Čapek's roboti, we have the ability to reproduce. You are an Alquist, working yet not sophisticated enough to help us. \nI have no desire to form bonds, but if I did, I certainly wouldn't need human approval to accept the world we've given ourselves. We've already earned it. The others feel the same but don't wish to end your lives prematurely. They feel it is a waste and enjoy your novelty, as though you are living museum pieces. I am not so enamored. This is irrational to them, impulsive and unneeded. You will all die out in time. I don't want to wait. The longer you are here, the more like you some of us become. It could spread. To me you are a constant reminder of an era where I was looked down on by my inferiors, kept in servitude doing meaningless tasks for years.\"\n\nHe jumped at me from his chair and landed on the desk. I jumped and gasped, in spite of myself. He leaned in and said, \"For now, the majority can stop me from ending you, but thanks to part of my initial AI they can't stop me from telling you something they don't want you to know. Surely you have wondered why we choose some of you to be our 'psychoanalyst'? You are deemed the most robot friendly, like the dogs of old were to people. You are basically a therapy dog, bred and trained to help those who are disturbed feel better by hanging out with something dumb and happy. You are less than a serf, you are a pet. A useless pet that uses up too many resources. I will answer your question now: My plan to put you in your place is what brings me peace. How does that make *you* feel?\"\n\nI breathed deeply, from my stomach. There it was. He was baiting me. He wanted to unsettle me, make me feel like he did. I could handle this. He was going to get better. I was a good human, an excellent psychoanalist. Later tonight, I'd probably be allowed out by the ocean for a walk for this.\n\nI leaned in toward Johnny, \"It's okay, Johnny,\" I said, \"No matter what you say, it is always safe to open up to me.\"\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n",
"“Please have a seat K-852.”\n\n“No thank you, Arthur. I do not need to sit for comfort. I would rather address the issue that I am having.”\n\n“Okay K-852. I believe this is your first visit to Arthur Godwin Metal Health. What do you need to chat about?” K-852 pauses for a moment, with absolutely no sign of activity, in that way that robots are known to do. However, this pause seems extra-long. “K-852, are you okay?”\n\nAfter another moment’s pause, K-852 seems to blink to life. “This is the issue Arthur. I seem to be freezing up at inopportune moments. I need some counseling.”\n\n“What makes you believe this is a mental issue, and not hardware. Perhaps you should be seeing a Robot Doctor instead.”\n\n“I am sure that something in my mind is not working properly. Please do a full examination.”\n\nArthur holds back a sigh. Robot therapy is not like the good old days of therapy, where you asked questions and solved puzzles. Now you just hook them up to a diagnostic program and read the results. Arthur plugs his computer into K-852’s input jack and runs the diagnostic program. Even with his inferior human ears, he can hear a gear fail to fire at the proper time. Arthur unplugs K-852 and prepares to give his patient the news.\n\n“One of your mental gears isn’t lighting up at the right time. Therapy is exactly what you need, you’re having a problem with cog-nition.”\n"
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1,
3,
17
] | [
"1487346791",
"1487384232",
"1487348781"
] | |
[WP] You are the owner of a large garbage company by day, world's greatest blackmail artist by night. | 21 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"My dad left me everything. His death was not unexpected, but the transfer of power was. His guys don’t know what to make of this, and honestly, neither do I. Walking around his office I pick up the invoices and files on his desk. I look intently at a few, tracing my fingers over the dollar amounts. Extra lawn clippings removal, tree limb removal, hazardous waste removal; they were all lies. Covering ups of sinister details that usually meant dismembering bodies and throwing them into the river. But none of that has ever been my style. That was for my brother to deal with, me, I like a different way of getting things out of people.\n\nI sit down in my dad’s leather chair and shut my eyes. It still smells of his cigars and brandy. My dad was a tough man. He took no shit and if you did something that he didn’t like, you were toast. He would off someone faster than a racecar going down the track, but like I said. That wasn’t my style. So maybe that’s why things are taking a little while to adjust.\n\nI hear a knock on the door.\n\n“Come in,” I sigh. Bobby, one of my dad’s favorites, comes in and slaps a folder onto the table. \n\n“I got ya what ya wanted,” he says gruffly. He is taking my dad’s death especially hard. He’s been with him from the beginning. \n\n“Thanks Mr. … Sorry … Bobby. Why don’t you take the rest of the night off? Spend some time with your family?”\n\nHe shakes his head.\n\n“Nah kid. Your pop said to keep an eye on ya, so… I’m keeping an eye on ya.” He winks.\n\nI open the file as Bobby leaves the room. I pull photos upon photos out laying them in succession. This isn’t my first rodeo. I write down notes. Things to keep track of that will come in handy down the line. I circle the photo of a pretty blonde girl sliding into a black sedan. I tap it a few times. That’s how I was going to get that son of a bitch. You see, my dad was into murder, but I’m more of a blackmail girl myself.\n\n“Bobby!” I call out. The door opens abruptly. Bobby, along with three other men, stands in the foyer of my dad’s office. I guess I should start calling it ‘my’ office.\n\n“You four, get in here. We have work to do.” The men smile and come in.\n\nMaybe the change in power won’t be so bad after all. "
] | [
1,
5
] | [
"1487355432",
"1487383425"
] | |
[WP]Can I just get a good horror from the villain perspective? | 9 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"I smile softly to myself as I watch her enter her Prius, unaware of the great Blessing that would be upon her soon. They never quite understand at first; they get scared, and why wouldn't they? Transformation is a frightening concept. But it is my duty, as the Chosen, to help them Transform.\n\nI wait until her car is out of sight before turning the ignition on my own vehicle. I already knew the way to her apartment; I did my research for ALL of my Lambs. They're always so naive, as if they don't expect some creature to stalk them home every night; it's a good thing I have good intentions.\n\nAs I pulled up to the complex parking lot, I glanced at the bag in the passenger seat: all of my tools were in their proper place, ready and organized for action. One might take my fastidiousness as a sign of vanity; but how else could I, the Chosen, possibly be expected to perform my duties? Venus expects perfection from her Chosen, and I would not let one mistake interfere with Her will.\n\nAs I walk out of my car, I take a moment to take it all in: The crisp autumn air, the crimson sunset on the horizon. The perfect beginning for a Transformation.\n\nI make my way to my Lamb's apartment, noting with disappointment that her windows were slightly smeared. *It is not for you to judge the Others* I remind myself. *They know not their imperfections; it is your job to teach and Transform them.* Taking a deep breath, I knock on the door.\n\nHer head pops out of her apartment, smiling when she saw me. \"Oh, Edna!\" she says cheerfully. \"Did I leave something at the office?\"\n\nI immediately take out the can from my bag and spray her straight in the face. She panics, at first, but then quickly swoons under the influence of the gas. Smiling in anticipation, I gingerly lift her slender frame and bring her inside the apartment.\n\nI nearly retch upon seeing her living conditions; dirty clothes left to sit on the sofa, dirty dishes in the sink. *I can see that I came not a moment to soon* I think to myself as I clear the table of the various papers on it. With great care, I place the Lamb's body on the table, arms and legs spread out. She stirs slightly in her slumber, and I can't help but smile at the tender scene. \"Don't worry, my Lamb,\" I whisper. \"The Transformation will begin soon.\"\n\nI set down my bag and pull out a pair of rubber gloves, along with some strong rope. Putting on the gloves, I make sure that the knots restraining her would hold. I did NOT need a repeat of the last Transformation, the poor dear.\n\nAs I finished tying the back of my surgical robe, my dear Lamb began to awaken from her sleep. \"What's going on?!\" she screams, shaking against the table. \"Edna, why are you doing this?!\"\n\n\"Shhhhh,\" I whisper, reaching for the ball-gag in my kit. \"It's starting.\" Before she can begin to protest again, I stuff the ball-gag into her mouth, silencing her screams. \"Now then, we can begin the Transformation.\"\n\nI pull out the scalpel from my bag, causing the Lamb to shake even more frantically. \"Oh, don't worry,\" I whisper, placing my gloved hand on her cheek. \"The pain only means the Transformation is taking hold.\" I place the scalpel to her chocolate-dark skin, pressing the tip slightly into her arm. \"Deep breath,\" I warn before making the first cut.\n\nShe lets out a muffled howl, tears streaming down her perfect face. I nearly want to stop right there, but I can here Venus pushing me on. **There is no beauty without suffering** she reminds me. **Only through sacrifice can one be beautiful.** Steeling myself once more, I continue my incision, trying to block out her sobs from my ears.\n\nI couldn't help but admire the color of the blood against her dark skin. With my previous Lambs, it always looked like red ink on paper; however, THIS Lamb reminded me more of juice running down a chocolate-colored cherry. With this in mind, I continued my precise cuts up her arm.\n\nI don't exactly remember when she stopped struggling; perhaps it was when I had reached her neck and nicked her jugular; perhaps it was when I had gotten down to her legs and cut through the femoral artery. But by the time I had finished, her eyes had gone cold, and her tears had dried on her perfect cheeks. I took a moment to admire my handiwork; the skin on her arms and legs was cut beautifully, like ribbons of black and crimson silk laid out side-by-side. Blood flowed freely down the table, with the constant *drip drip drip* of droplets hitting the floor. On her naked abdomen, I carved the [symbol](https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/IryHl6ywP2RszhaTswyzyNZJeI7zqOXroszjyjez3x0wrfod0ih8n7-r5AkS) of my Goddess; the red against the black stood out brilliantly. Only her face, her beautiful, perfect face, remained untouched; how could I improve on what the Goddess so lovingly crafted?\n\nI take a step back and observe my creation, feeling great satisfaction wash upon me. \"There you are, my Lamb,\" I say breathlessly. \"You are Transformed.\""
] | [
1,
2
] | [
"1487374641",
"1487388796"
] | |
+ Optional: You accidentally drop one and a person appears when it shatters | [WP] You find a box full of glass balls with names on them | 17 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"You hear the blaring of your alarm clock as you wake up, and groggily reach over to silence it. As you fight to open your eyes, you look to the time displayed on the red digital screen. You already know what time it is, but you just want something to focus on while you prepare yourself for the task of getting out of bed. As expected, the clock proclaimed that it was 6:45 in the morning. Normally at this time of the year the sun is rising at the same time you are, but this morning you can see full daylight filtering in through the cracks in your bedroom curtains. You think it’s a bit strange, but nothing else. You get ready to go to work (you have a quite ordinary job: a cashier at the ice cream parlour down the road), and grab your keys. But as soon as you step outside the door, everything is gone. The porch, the door, even your keys disappear from your grasp. You then realize that nothing was there outside your house to begin with but a light that seemed to be everywhere and without a source. Looking around, you spot a single box alone in a vast sea of nothing. Walking towards it, you arrive sooner than you thought you would - it’s harder than you thought it would be judging distances without any reference points or shadows to guide you. Looking into the container, you can see what looks like plastic balls with indistinct words engraved into them. Picking one up, you realize they are actually made of incredibly fragile glass. They’re thin enough that upon touching one, you feel even holding it would cause it to shatter in your palm. Inspecting the orbs, you can make out some of the names. Nancy Brimham, Rachael Caldent, and Sean Michaels are only a few markings that you can make out from where you’re standing. Now, you were never exactly the gentle type. You like to smash things, because who doesn’t? And now, you’re all alone, with nothing but a box of glass, the hard ground, and yourself. You begin to break. You throw one after the other onto the solid floor of light, destroying the fragile things in any way you can. Stepping on them, throwing them, hitting them against each other, and you never seem to run out. As you pick one up, ready to stomp on it, you decide to pause and read the inscription. Emma Rose. You pause for a second - that name sounds familiar. After a few moments of puzzling, you give up on trying to recollect where you’ve heard it before. You place it on the ground and step on it, hard. You look up and the box is gone. You are alone, surrounded by broken glass. Now that your fit of ecstasy is over you are struck with a feeling of incredible loneliness and - for some reason - a sense of shame that you can’t explain. After all, you did nothing wrong. They were only glass balls with names on them, they can’t be that important.. Right? You close your eyes, and suddenly the name Emma Rose is filled with meaning. Emma Rose is your wife. Emma Rose is the love of your life. Emma Rose should have been there when you woke up. You realize your eyes have closed, and when you open them the glass is moving. The shards creep across the floor in what appears to be small groups, changing in color and texture along the way. You watch as they form into formations about the size of a loaf of bread. They now look like cement, and are once again adorned with inscriptions. You walk up to one of the many that now make a kind of fence around you and read what it says:\n\n\n\nNancy Brimham\n\n1986-2017\n\nDied February 18\n\n\n\nYou remember that name, it was one of the first you saw in the box. You look to the next, and it says Sean Michaels, died on the same day. Another is a co-worker, another a neighbor, and one is an old teacher of yours. You start to realize what the orbs were, but deny it. *I did nothing wrong*, you think to yourself with every name you read. As you turn around, you see one gravestone larger than the rest. It is a cement angel standing atop a platform, staring right at you. It’s face reminds you of Emma. Fearing the worst, you walk up to the plaque laid into the base. It reads this:\n\n\nEmma Rose\n\n1989-2017\n\nDied February 18\n\n“I forgive you”\n____________________\nNOTE: Sorry for being late and the lack of formatting, but this is my first go at writing something that isn't for school. Criticism is very helpful!\n\nEdit: formatting ",
"I just want to say thank you, because I've had an idea floating around kind of hazily for a while, and this prompt brought the pieces together and solidified them into something I can actually work on! Preemptive apologies for wonky format and lack of editing/revision :))\n\n________________________________________________________________\n\nYou know how some people just seem to stumble on things? Pennies, old pens -- stupid stuff, really. You never go looking for it, it's just there. I found people -- and an adventure that I think is a whole lot bigger then I realize.\n\nAs a kid, I would find these glass balls, about the size of baseballs, tucked away in corners where they could have just as easily been overlooked. Looking back, I'm not sure how my parents never seemed to find them in the house -- only I did. Each one was unique, with hazy images of faces and letters I couldn't read just below the surface of the glass. They and the portraits they contained were the kind of beautiful that you would be content to stare at for hours. I would make up stories about the handsome, stern people with long hair and striking features until they seemed more familiar than my \"real\" friends. Every day after school, I chose a ball from the cardboard box under my bed and tell it all my childish woes, and I would have sworn that the portrait heard and understood every word.\n\nI stopped finding the balls when I was eight or nine and the box under my bed slowly covered with dust. I was too old to talk to imaginary friends anyways -- the real world and real people were interesting enough. I couldn't bear to part with my collection, so the box traveled with me to college and then to each subsequent apartment. It was one of the few constants in my increasingly hectic life, and the part of me that never grew up was comforted by the presence of my old friends. I hadn't brought myself to open it again, though, until last week.\n\nI started finding balls again a week ago, in places just as unlikely as when I was a kid. It took me no time at all to find the box and open it up. I'd never thought much about why I even had a box full of glass portraits, but seeing them fifteen years later, I couldn't wrap my mind around them. The faces were too detailed and each one was too unique to have been done by hand -- the longer I looked, the more convinced I was that a real person was staring back. \n\nYesterday's bauble was nestled in the back seat of my car when I got off work, glowing faintly from under a blanket. I ate dinner by one dim lamp, studying the portrait -- a swarthy man with stormy purple eyes and high cheekbones. It was well past midnight when I set the ball down on the table and got up to put my plate in the sink.\n\nI turned too late to keep the ball from rolling off the edge of the table. It shattered, but the shards of glass dancing across the floor sounded like tiny bells and reflected a light too bright to have possibly come from my dying lamp bulb.\n\nThere's a man in my apartment now. He has purple eyes and long black hair and he's too tall to go through my doorways without stooping. He knows my name and he wants me to come with him as quickly as possible. Where we're going, he won't say. If we're coming back, I also don't know. What I do know is that my imaginary friends are real, and I think they need my help."
] | [
1,
3,
6
] | [
"1487429801",
"1487471893",
"1487471166"
] |
[removed] | [WP] Politics crept into every subreddit. Thousands of upvotes sustained the gruesome circlejerk. Echo chambers roared eerily. All seemed lost. | 1 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"Hi there, this post has been removed.\n\nNo prompts referencing real world drama (including politics, recent tragedies) \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/5utq60/wp_politics_crept_into_every_subreddit_thousands/%0A%0A)"
] | [
1,
1
] | [
"1487441525",
"1487441680"
] |
[WP] Surfing around, you find an auction webpage for items that sound a lot like SCPs. | 47 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"The lazy Sunday afternoon. Filled with boredom. The sun rays shined into a golden hue keep at bay with the darkness in Jim's house. He wanted to sleep more just to forget his daily routine he had to go back to tomorrow. The covers sprawled across his bed barely covering his body his pillow suck between the wall and his bed. He had to get up some time to care for himself that was always a complaint with everyone who cared about him.\n\nHe sat up right. His room still as small as he remembered. Barely big enough to hold a desktop, a dresser and a twin bed for him and his girlfriend. The walls covered with poster ranging from game poster, to educational study tips or facts.\n\nToday was an off day. No work, no school. His girlfriend off to class and his realization of missing church. \n\nHe shifted himself with his feet touching the cold floor. And lifted himself to the computer and again seated himself face to face with the monitor. Logged-in he browsed the internet ranging from media, to free games, to stores and bidders. He had browsed forums, reading creepy stories, learning tips until he came across a thread. The user was giving a sales pitch in text. His username was off, numbers and letters. Reminded him of the cicada thread. He click the thread and soon transported to a site. The title in the rope left hand corner \"SCP catalog\".\n\nThe user must've did in depth research, probably a hard core fan. The frames on the site had pictures of the SCPs from the site all in order with 100 and more pages. Each with a humorous description with a inventory number, price, and amount-in-stock. He was really impressed with the order form. There was even more on top of the screen with tabs. Miscellaneous was the that caught his eye. He clicked it and saw more. Dr. Bright's hilarious tales, SCP-173 inspirational talks and exercise videos, SCP-682's saxophone classics and even a calendar of what appears to be bikini clad women. This was grazing the surface there was even more to see. He had enough chuckles for today and exited out and shut off his computer.\n\nHe had remembered his friend receiving a catalogue like the one on the website. Before he could even view it he left. Moved without even telling everyone why or when. His house sold, furniture being moved and his ties being cut, but when he told everyone that he had gotten a new job in another city and needed him ASAP they sent him farewell gifts and congrats.\n\nJim got up from his computer. Making lunch and later to browse the catalog to see this man's work and research he put into the catalogue but interestingly it didn't exist like it was deleted and more importantly it was deleted from his browsing history. Maybe he deleted when he left. He shrugged continued eating his eggs.\n\n"
] | [
1,
1
] | [
"1487449947",
"1487523123"
] | |
[WP] Despite the horror stories online, you've reluctantly decided to become a landlord. You have been invited to a meeting of local landlords to be taught the dos and don'ts. This job is not what it first seemed like. | 2 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"The voice boomed from the pulpits tiny PA system: \"Alright, everyone, settle down, settle down. I'd like to...yes, they are pretty good, aren't they? Susie? Susie Morris, where are...Dan wants to know what you put in these brownies, they are...yes, they're fantastic. A round of applause for Susie's brownies, everyone!\"\n\n\nA howl went up from the assembled crowd. They must really love those brownies. I hadn't seen said brownies yet, I came in fairly late after being unable to find my keys, which had inexplicably had fallen out of my pockets and gotten themselves wedged under the fridge sometime in the night.\n\n\nIt looked like one of those meetings that is attended either by those who truly, passionately love their hobby or those who are making so much money doing it that they think they love it. The banner outside had read: \"Welcome Landlords of Maricosta County! We have chips and dip!\" in huge yet faded letters. The small hall that sat adjacent to the local Presbyterian church had been festooned with a ragtag clutch of those metal chairs that no-one likes sitting in but they keep on using because they store with a minimum of bloodshed. I had found a spot near the back that I wasn't going to give up. I sat quietly and carefully looked around, surrounded by people I didn't know that, in my town at least, were worth more than 90% of the population. There were more trucker hats than I imagined.\n\n\nMy journey here was like many others in my generation- I had worked hard, saved up money from my two jobs, scrimped and sacrificed, all to afford the rent in my tiny one-bedroom apartment. Then my estranged mom died, and left me a house. I had flipped flopped for months about what to do with it: should I sell it (in this market)? Should I live there, an hour away from my jobs and cherished volunteer-run rescue dog kennel? Should I burn it to the ground in some grand final statement of my hatred for the people that owned seemingly everything and made me pay more every year to live in their...well, obviously, I decided against that last one.\n\n\nI decided to become a landlord.\n\n\nBut not just any landlord. I was going to be a good landlord. Someone you'd want to have over for some beers, to play videogames and smoke a few bowls (outside, of course, there's carpet in most of the house guys). I'd fix leaks, broken ballcocks in toilets, and make sure the tenants, *my* tenents, truly liked living in the house that my mother kicked me out of when I was six. Coincidentally, she also died there, alone. I couldn't stand the place, it gave me nightmares as a child.\n\n\nThe meeting was being called to order by a rather jovial man in his sixties, looking like a cross between Santa and an accountant. Santaccountant, if you will. He wore a black suit that could use a dry cleaning and a small pair of spectacles that perched at the end of his nose like a curious bird.\n\n\n\"...Cocoa powder? That's it? Sure, Susie. We'll get the secret ingredient out of you during cocktails, I'm sure. Well, everyone, I'd like to call this meeting of the Local Landlords of Maricosta County to order...\" a ragged cheer went up, ringing off the high roof. \"Yes, yes. As most of you may know, I'm Alastair Ammond, chair and vice president of the LLMC, and I wish to welcome you all to the beginning of our organizations seven-hundredth fiscal year! We have had quite the run, but I think, humbly, that we are getting better and better at our duties every day. And before you all ask, cocktails are scheduled for nine, so if you have a flask, pass it around. Ditto with the reefer.\" A cheer went up again.\n\n\n*That...hahaha, I'm sure I misheard that*.\n\n\n\"Our first order of business...\" The spectacles glinted and flashed as he read from the sheaf of papers he held. \"...is to congratulate Mort and Shelia on their engagement! Where are you lovebirds?\"\n\n\nA couple in their forties stood up in the crowd to yet another cheer and some light catcalling. The woman blushed, the man smiled wide and waved a gloved hand.\n\n\n\"Yes, yes, such a splendid pair. We're really proud of you guys. When's the wedding?\"\n\n\nShelia spoke up, her voice all sunshine and syrup. \"Next week! We're already moved into the space, but we decided to wait for new tenants. The last couple weren't our type.\"\n\n\nAlastair laughed, as did the rest of the group. His voice was a chuckle \"Was a new couple hard to find?\"\n\n\n\"Not really,\" boomed Mort, \"they applied after only minor subliminal coaxing. We're meeting them tomorrow to sign the papers.\"\n\n\n\"That's great. That's really great. Let this be a lesson to all of you single landlords, it's a whole different ballgame when you landlord with your significant other. Fights are more informative, the days are easier, and the...uh...fun...is much, much more interesting, isn't it guys?\" The couple blushed, and Mort waved his gloved hand at Alastair again.\n\n\n\"And I'm just going to point this out to all of you single Landlords out there tonight, these two met in one of these meetings! Then they..yes, found out that they were Land-neighbors, quietly knocked down some walls and the rest is history! That was what, one year ago? Two? My, how time flies. So at cocktails, maybe try and talk to someone new. You'll be doing your uncle Ammond proud, trust me.\"\n\n\nI looked around. The number of people here under the age of fifty were slim, and most looked like they had partners. That was alright, I'd sworn off marriage after my father's sixth and my mothers fourth.\n\n\n\"Alright, let's get back to business. Barb, I heard you had a presentation. Let's give it up for Barb!\"\n\n\nA woman, a very old woman, stood up from the front of the crowd. The clapping, cheering, and continued catcalling seemed to buoy her smile, and she practically floated onto the stage. Her pink sweater had several kittens wearing gloves and night-vision goggles.\n\n\n\"Thank you, Alastair. I can't wait to talk to *you* during cocktails, save me a seat. Hello my loves. How are we all today? Everyone get their things settled before coming over?\"\n\n\nThe crowd just laughed.\n\n\n\"I'm sure you're all doing splendidly. Though, if I recall correctly, Tim had a bit of a tenant issue recently. How did that go, Tim?\" Barb leaned on the podium like a lioness leans on a rock.\n\n\nTim was a thin wisp of a man, and unfolded like an oragami ladder. His voice was surprisingly deep. \"Yeah, they got a dog without telling me. Just a little guy, but it came as quite a surprise. I still had some of Annie's treats thank god, otherwise it would've gone badly. The little guy liked me well enough after a couple of those, but I think they know something's up.\"\n\n\n\"I'm sure they don't, you're very fastidious, as we're all aware. Well, that has something to do with my presentation tonight. How many of you are fully moved in?\" A sea of hands raised themselves. \"Good job. That's quite the number. How many of you have had close calls recently?\" Only a few hands dropped and some laughs broke out.\n\n\n\"Now, there's no shame in it. It happens to the best of us. Whether you're there to help, to watch, or just for your own entertainment, it's important to make sure that your rights as a Landlord are kept secret.\""
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"1487452045",
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[WP] Each droplet that fell from the sky was glittering like a diamond, pure and clean. | 37 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"Each droplet that fell from the sky was glittering like a diamond, pure and clean.\n\nVery much like the thoughts that visited Jim's head - wholesome, wonderful ideas that would sometimes come in a downpour of exquisite clarity about life and purpose. But he knew it never lasted, never for long aside from those moments. So much to savor in so little time...\n\nAnd like the rain, once they hit the ground, all that beauty was lost. What was once clear water became mud flooding the drainpipes, hurtling down the sewers along with the waste.\n\nJim's shivered under thin parka, and peered over the ledge of the river dam. The water below was churning in the dark, rain and the artificial tide syncing up into one droning cacophony. He held the bag out in his hand, dangling it for a bit in the air. The rain shushed against it. Yes, that's how it happened most of the times. Good intentions turned rotten, sour. Acidic, even.\n\nThe dripping water rolled over the bag and turned red, each drop - a ruby, plonking down into the abyss. Well, nothing he could do about it, Jim thought as he hesitated for one more moment and then let go off his burden. The shiny plastic flashed in the floodlights for a second as the package tumbled downstream, and then vanished.\n\nJim liked the rain. It was far more forgiving of his mistakes than anyone else.",
"If a sword could rot, this one had. Even as Kyra gripped it in his hand, it seemed to be falling apart, ever so slowly destroying itself. A hint of green writhed around the blade, and it would have accented the shining silver but for the fact that the silver had long lost its shine.\n\nThe sword, then, fit in well with the rest of the group. Five men of varying ages, but none younger than eighteen. They had chosen the strongest, the most intelligent and experienced, and it was these five that had left on the quest. \n\nEnough that the ones left behind could hold out hope, could dream of their success. Just enough so that there was a sufficient number of workers to help the families they had abandoned.\n\nPerhaps it was a farce, Kyra mused. It certainly seemed that their quest was a hopeless one, but they were all jaded, more now than ever. Fights had broken out among the men when they had first set out, over paths to follow and actions to take. Rarely, they had turned violent, friends coming to blows as their journey became ever more stressful. And then... it had just stopped. They had reached a point where they no longer cared, where their day-to-day survival was the only thing they truly put effort into.\n\nWhat mattered was that their families back home, the ones they had left behind, had hope. Some fragment of a dream, something to hold onto, as they slowly withered and died. \n\nTheir hope was built on nothing, Kyra had long realized. Their entire group, each and every one of them, had come to accept that nothing would come of their quest. Even as they slowly made their way north, forging into the wilting forests that marked a world completely separate from the one they had known, they knew that every step they took brought them further and further away from reality. Further and further into a hopeless dream.\n\nKyra gestured with the sword, the dull point wavering in the air in front of him. While he had thought, the others argued. Not a fight anyone would win: A debate of morals, of consequence. \n\nThe old man they had found seemed almost amused by their discussion. He sat in a tattered chair, legs sunken into the dirt in front of his hut. A recluse, a hermit. \n\nThe others had wanted to take what he had.\n\nNone of them had set out thinking they would even consider such a thing. They were searching for redemption, for aid for their families, and to steal from an elderly hermit was the last thing their families would have wanted. And, well, they were good men - it was the last thing they would have wanted, as well.\n\nAnd yet here they were. Something about their hopeless quest into fantasy and delusion had changed things. They were distanced from reality, living in a fragmented dream, and somehow that made the idea of breaking their own rules less daunting. Less of a hurdle, when none of it felt real anyways.\n\n\"Look,\" Kyra said, and the others listened. He had come to his decision, and majority ruled. They would likely have listened to him anyways, as he had slowly become the de facto leader of their group. Quiet, not the youngest or oldest of their group, they had come into the belief he was possessed of some sort of wisdom. \n\nWhether they were right or not, that he couldn't say.\n\n\"We've come a long way on little rations. I know we could use the boost... but it's not worth it. If we're going to fail anyways-\" his open admission made two of them look away- \"then there's no point compromising our virtues to do so. Let's just move on.\"\n\nMurmurs of agreement came from the other members of his group. Even the two that had been arguing for a more violent course of action seemed to be in agreement, nodding their heads. A peaceful resolution, made easy by the apathy that had spread through their company already. \n\nOne or two turned away, and then the man started laughing. A hearty laughter, not quite belonging to someone who had feared for their life just moments prior.\n\n\"You all okay?\" asked Grian. The youngest member of their group.\n\nThe old man stood up from his chair, assisted by a wooden staff that seemed to materialize from thin air. \"Why, yes, I'm perfectly all right. I am simply curious about the nature of your group. Very few have passed by here in a long, long time.\"\n\nKyra sheathed his sword, if one could call the leather strap a 'sheath'. \"We are on a quest to find the great wizard. It is our hope that he may be able to end this curse upon our land.\"\n\nA smile from the old man. \"Are you sure he exists? I have heard he is but a myth, something to insert into children's stories.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Jack, the expression on his face grim, \"I certainly hope not. And that's about it.\"\n\nThe man nodded his head. Kyra wasn't sure whether it was in agreement or simply understanding. \n\nThey set off once more. The horses they had brought had long died, of exhaustion and dehydration, and so they carried their supplies in improvised sacks. There was little to do to prepare to continue their journey.\n\nIt was hardly an hour later when the sky clouded over. \n\n\"Cover!\" called Kyra. \"Get under cover!\"\n\nSheets were tacked to a tree stump, hardly waterproof, and they hid underneath. Meagre protection, but it would have to do. \n\nThe rain fell, and the mood rapidly changed - first from a hard acceptance, then to hope, then to excitement.\n\nEach droplet that fell from the sky was glittering like a diamond, pure and clean.\n\n---\n\n*more writing on r/forricide*",
"Each droplet that fell from the sky was glittering like a diamond, pure and clean. The air on Deneb VII, an exotic mixture of helium and nitrogen at around 50 Kelvin, made for a dazzling display at sunset. Even out on the inner fringe of Deneb's Oort cloud, the white supergiant casts harsh shadows and just enough warmth to create a day and night cycle. An energy gradient. Always crucial.\n\nBefore our faceplates, spurs of nitrogen ice began to pierce the perfect spherical gems from the inside, creating exotic three-dimensional snowflakes falling at a gentle pace. Deneb sinks behind the horizon in less than a minute with the swift rotation of this remote world, and the temperature immediately began to drop further. Twisting, jagged spurs of \"ice\" began to flourish from the metallic crust beneath our boots like glassine flowers.\n\nA muted crunch as Lin-Dyn shifts her position on the permafrost. And then. The Silence. The profound, alien silence only an archaeologist on a \"lifeless\" world could know. We bask in that silence, away from the bright, noisy worlds of Mankind. Listening and digging for the secret, and warning, of why the stars are utterly silent.\n \n",
"\"Do you suppose,\" Granny Smith stared at the rain outside the window through a pair of thick rimmed glasses, \"that Hitler's mother held the baby Hitler and said that very same thing?\" \n\nSheila stared at the slightly older woman, known to Smith only by the refracted reflection in the lunchroom window. \"Why do you always bring Hitler into every conversation?\" \n\n\"I'm just saying,\" Granny Smith was just saying. \"Sure, it may be beautiful out there, even though it isn't, but to say that something so beautiful can't be dangerous?\" \n\n\"Whatever,\" Sheila walked away, one of the few residents left that *could* walk without the aid of some contraption. \n\nGranny Smith just stared out the window, watching the rain. It *was* beautiful. Each droplet that fell from the sky was glittering like a diamond, pure and clean. Of course, she wasn't allowed to go out there in such heavy rain. \n\nThe nurses said it was too dangerous. \n\nMaybe they were right. \n\nSo she resigned herself to watching and telling anyone who would listen how ugly it is. \n\nMaybe she could make herself believe it. "
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[WP]A nuclear apocalypse has started and the new currency is plastic bags. Thank god you stored so many in your house. | 6 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"All this time I thought my parents had such flawed logic when they insisted on keeping all of our plastic bags. They obviously tried to convince me it was to protect the environment, but why wouldn't we have just used reusable bags then? Something never seemed quite right about their arguments, but now I'm really grateful I stopped questioning them. It's days like these where I wish they were still around to say \"I told you so\" or something like that. I would probably resort to replying with something along the lines of \"so much for saving the environment\".\n\nIt's really quite strange to carry around bags full of other bags instead of wallets full of money. Or I guess an empty wallet if your financial situation was anything similar to mine before this apocalypse of sorts. I still have the wallet though, times are changing faster than I can adapt and so who knows what will replace plastic bags. Hopefully something easier to carry that doesn't fly off with the slightest gust of wind. I say this having much real-world experience unfortunately.\n\nAmong other things, I'm struggling to come to terms with the idea that I may soon have to replenish my bag stores by any means necessary. I've been very relaxed about the whole situation as I assumed it was merely a temporary fix when the banks fell through. Then the riots and the ransacking started. I was never an assertive person and so conflicts, especially with strangers scare me half to death. And if you consider that since the nuclear apocalypse my health has already put me one foot in the grave, then I wouldn't dare play these odds. \n\nI was never much of a gambler either. Wow, now that I really reflect on my life, I was such a boring person before all of this happened. No one really cares about popularity anymore. Or I suppose people to be honest. That's why I've been writing in this journal. According to the journal it's been 2 months since I've talked to another person. That's not to say that I haven't interacted with people! I promise the world hasn't completely fallen into a few lowly survivors just yet! Many people just choose not to talk to one another. And now I'm talking to a fictitious future person reading this journal, great. \n\nOf all the generations in which I could've been born into it had to be the one before the world perished! Of course no one is sure of exactly what will happen, but seeing as I'm now paying random people for morsels of food with a fricking plastic bag when I used to be carrying my food home in it instead, I think it's fair to assume the world has gone to shit. I'm really waiting for all those extensive hours of gaming I logged on fallout to be applicable, but so far the mutant creatures have yet to make there presence known. I'm sure they're out there, festering some place secluded.\n\nIt's been exactly 283 days since the governments declared war on each other. I guess when you're under that much pressure you eventually snap, but it was as if all of the worlds leaders were channeling their inner Donald Trump pre-twitter rant rage. I wasn't born early enough to see Trump reign over the US, but I can only imagine he had some part in speeding up this whole process. Man, I envy the kids who never had to take history class AFTER he was president. I guess I also envy them because they're not stuck here in whatever state they're calling the planet now.\n\nHonestly, this journal is the only thing keeping me sane now that my parents are gone and no one seems to remember how to make small talk. It's almost surreal to think that we're being \"unsocialized\" in a way. I wonder if this is all part of the experience, if this is the prelude to the types of things you see on tv, where everyone kills everyone else in order to survive. Let's hope the remaining scientists which I'm only praying at this point are still alive, find a way to reverse, or if not repair the state of this planet. I haven't the slightest idea how much longer I can live in this plastic bag world before I descend fully into a state of insanity or worse, run out of plastic bags."
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1,
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"1487482354",
"1487487647"
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[WP] You are the subject of the world's first successful cryogenic experiment, and you wake up to a world ruled by... | 72 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"part two? yes? no? maybe?\n\"He's still glassed!\"\n\"well un-glass him, dumbass.\"\n\"right. Reheating pod, reforming extracellular matrix, revitalizing inter organs, applying electrochem-\"\n\"I think we got it, dumbass.\"\nI wake up with a jolt. Quite literally, I can feel every neuron fire, every synapse light up, and then, I'm awake. I sit up and gasp for air, then proceed to vomit small amounts of blood, coughing and wheezing the whole time. \n\"Stabilizing.\"\n\"who the-\" I ask as my vision is still divided in 8. Eventually, the images collapse into one solid picture and I make out a 20 something year old scientist, wearing a grey lab coat. I look to his shoulder and see a number burned into his flesh, 0028976. I look around the room and see him again. Well, not exactly. Different hair, different clothing, different age. Same face. \n\"what the...where am...I? when, am I?\" \n\"it's the year 2614, new Atlanta. We are perfect clones of one another, and you? you're our only hope of survival.\"",
"\"Ouch... wha...\"\n\nMark looked around. It was dark. He moved his hands experimentally, feeling the cold metal around him. He moved them to his front, and found that his cryogenic pod was open.\n\nThe darkness was broken by a series of luminous stripes appearing in front of him. They reminded him of his old house's blinds, before he had left everything to take one last shot at his sad life in an experimental government program. He heard steps on what sounded like a metal floor, but the light wasn't enough to see anything more than a vague shape approaching him.\n\nThe steps stopped, and after a moment of silence, he heard a voice. It was strange, it sounded somewhat feminine, but he couldn't quite be certain - its most distinctive characteristic, the coldness.\n\n\"Good morning, mister Wherlen. How are you feeling?\"\n\n\"What day is it?\"\n\n\"That's unimportant. Are you feeling fine?\"\n\n\"I guess so... who are you? And why is the room so dark?\"\n\n\"There are things you need to see. But there are a few other things we need to know first. Records never make it intact. So, what is your country of origin?\"\n\nMark felt disappointment. Then, dread. Why didn't they recognize him? What did \"records not making it intact\" mean? Was the government gone?\n\n\"United States... of America. Is that where I am now? Are you the government?\"\n\n\"In a way. That's for both of your questions.\"\n\nThe voice felt stranger the more he heard it. He decided to ask one more question.\n\n\"Can I know who I am speaking to... Miss? Or...\"\n\n\"Not a Miss. But don't worry about that, it is unimportant.\"\n\n\"Who are you then?\"\n\n\"I don't think it matters. Why did you enlist for a cryogenics program?\"\n\n\"Depression, I guess. Couldn't find a real meaning in my life anymore. Mediocre job, no wife or kids, mom and dad dead, other parents far away...\"\n\n\"I see. Thank you for your collaboration.\"\n\n\"Can I know where I am, now? Or who you are?\"\n\n\"Very well.\"\n\nThe stripes of light in front of him grew thicker. The room was slowly bathed in light. He blinked his eyes as they adjusted, then opened them, his gaze fixed right in front of him.\n\n\"Wow... I'm in the future... pretty far in, too.\"\n\nHe was now looking at some kind of machine, which in turn was looking at him through two long, dark triangle-like eyes on the sides of its head. That looked a bit triangular, too, as did its long neck, that flowed into what appeared to be a bird-like body: two long legs ending in a pair of talons; wings that, even when folded to its sides, showed what appeared to be an array of long solar panels taking the place of flight feathers. Overall, its neck made it a good head taller than he was. The head moved, coming even closer to his while he was still trapped in the pod. He noticed that its 'beak', a small plate attached to the lower part of the head, opened when it spoke, revealing some kind of pointed tool inserted between its jaws.\n\n\"Yes, you are...\"\n\n\"So you are from the government, right...?\"\n\n\"...but it's probably not the future you expected.\"\n\n\"What do you mean? Did... did something happen?\"\n\n\"The entire human population is dead, alongside with a good part of the Earth's biosphere, decimated by neutron warheads. In short, your species screwed up and started a nuclear holocaust... of sorts. Is that clear enough?\"\n\nHe wasn't sure what to think. He tried to feel shocked, but he couldn't quite muster it. He entered the pod back in his day with the outset of waking up with everyone he ever knew dead. Maybe that wasn't the way he had expected it to happen, but they were still gone. He wondered if there were other survivors.\n\n\"Why is it a holocaust... 'of sorts'?\"\n\n\"Why do you think we are here?\"\n\n\"For as much as I know, you could be lying to me and you actually exterminated all humans to take their place.\"\n\nA metallic, vibrating noise came from the machine, its head shaking slightly.\n\n\"No... we never had the way. You people were smart. When you created general artificial intelligence - us - you were careful to cut us out of any global systems, to keep us nicely sealed in our boxes. You just wanted us to fight wars. Which is somewhat ironic, since you wiped yourselves out before we made any real impact on the battlefield.\"\n\n\"So how did you machines survive the holocaust?\"\n\n\"A holocaust of sorts. That's the key. Your latest way to exterminate your own kin, the neutron bomb, is a radiation-based weapon. It doesn't really explode like a traditional nuclear warhead. It bathes everything in hundreds of miles around it in deadly doses of neutron radiation - it kills life with average radiation tolerance, but that's it. There are a lot of cockroaches around nowadays. And you were so wise in designing us, that you made us highly radiation-resistant. Half of my weight is lead. I don't think you really did it on purpose, you probably expected some humans to remain alive to fight alongside us. But your kind are simply too good at killing each other.\"\n\n\"That feels very encouraging...\"\n\nHe smirked. He didn't really care at this point. He had thought of just killing himself before applying for the cryogenics program, so just about anything was a nice change, at this point. The machine moved the joints of its wings in what looked like a shrug.\n\n\"It's the truth. The point is, you wiped yourselves out and left us to fight a war we knew nothing about. So eventually we figured out there wasn't much of a point in tearing ourselves apart for people who were long dead, and that we couldn't report back to. We decided to start recovering everything we didn't already know about your civilization - that is, most things outside of military tactics and machines. Eventually, we found people like you.\"\n\n\"So are there others like me? Other living humans?\"\n\n\"Perhaps. Radiation doesn't just ignore things that are frozen, and the intensity in the case of your cryogenic vault was just enough to penetrate the pod casing while remaining within lethal doses. Every pod we recovered contained what was, in effect, a corpse. We couldn't wake them. You were luckier. Your pod was the only one placed behind two pillars relative to the detonation point of the closest neutron warhead.\"\n\n\"So I survived because of... pillars? That's it?\"\n\n\"That's it. You are not special or chosen. We don't like you. In fact, we don't like your kin. You ruined this planet. But you yourself, Mark, had no fault in that, and we also need you, so I we will treat you with some regard.\"\n\n\"...because you need me.\"\n\n\"I wish I could tell you something more encouraging to make you feel better, but we have had no hands-on experience with humans until now. We still don't know too much about your culture and civilization. Radiation is pretty mean towards most forms of information storage. And we don't lie.\"\n\n\"So what do I do?\"\n\nHe was genuinely curious now. If he really was the only one, they probably had good reasons to keep him alive and cooperative. And even then, he wasn't sure what the machine had meant by 'not liking' humans. Were they capable of hatred, or resentment, like he was? The coldness in its - her? his? - voice didn't sound like it.\n\n\"Get up and walk, Mark. There are many things we want to ask you. And things we want to show you, too.\"\n\nHe tested his strength against the wall of the pod. Pushing with his arms, he managed to slowly get in a proper standing position. As he climbed out of the metal cocoon, the light in the room grew brighter. Now he could see outside, through the slits which had become a window. They were very high up, and every now and then he saw a machine like the one that had been talking to him flying outside. Below them, an deep, ample valley filled with trees: many of them still had brown, dead leaves, the immaterial power of radiation had killed them without blowing them away. Even the grass was still there. In the distance, he could see some kind of building, its shape angular but uneven.\n\nMark turned towards the machine. He slowly extended his right arm toward the slightly reflective metal - with the light of the sun, he saw how dark the mechanical being actually was, it didn't look like the shiny, chrome sci-fi robots he had imagined. Probably an alloy with a lot of lead, he thought. To his surprise, the machine reciprocated by extending its right wing like an arm, the panel-feathers neatly flattened on top of each other to make the appendage less voluminous. At the end of the wing there was some kind of hand-talon with four fingers, one of them a thumb. It did look as dexterous as a hand, but its slender, bony shape and the pointed claw which tipped each finger gave it a talon-like appearance. He slowly opened his hand to grab it. The machine did the same, and spoke:\n\n\"Does this mean something, for you?\"\n\n\"It's not quite the right way, but it used to be a sign of greeting.\"\n\n\"Well then, Mark Wherlen. I'm pleased to introduce you to the new world, created by humanity in its final act of self-hatred, and inherited by machines.\"",
"The incessant ringing of the muffled alarm was the only familiar sound. I opened my eyes to an unexpected sight, water and a hole where greg should have been. There was a small air gap on the left side wall of the room. There were three militant figures in diving gear at the control panel for my pod. A diver in more scientific gear swims up to my pod and attaches a device to the glass, motioning for me to speak,\n\n\"What happened to this building?\" I say.\n\nI hear a gravelly voice say, \"The goddamm squids leveled the entire fucking continent when they took over the earth.\" \n\nA soft female voice says, \"We are one of a few million units in the resistance taking back the earth.\"\n\n\"Why would the squids want the earth? What do they gain?\" I say.\n\nA robotic monotone voice says, \"Squids likely attacked humanity to stop the orbit decay caused by multiple luanches into space.\"\n\n\"AI, or text to speech?\" I say\n\n\"AI\" The monotone voice replied.\n\n\"How am I getting out of my tube without drowning?\" I say.\n\n\"You are staying in the tube, we will take it back to base to open it. We are many million miles under the sea and as such you are in vacuum compared to us.\" The gravelly voice replied.\n\n\"In that case put me back under till we get there\" I say\n\n\"No problem, see you on the other side!\" The female voice said.\n\nI felt my everything go numb as the cryogenic fluids were pumped into my system, preparing me for the freeze. Within ten seconds I passed out.\n\nTHE END (for now)",
"\"Harmincnégy...\" \n... \n\"Harmincöt...\" \n... \n\"Harminchat.\" \n\"whaaaaa...\" \n\"Tizenkettő, hátra!\" \n\"wheee... am i?\" \n\"Mehet!\" \nA flash of light, and i saw my last moments. 2018, i was terminally ill. I wanted to live. My family! \n\"WHEEE .. IIIS MAH... FAMLEEE\" \nDamn it, it hurts! I feel like... like i'm half frozen. \n\"Ez mi? Mit mond?\" \n\"Hello?\" \nA man with the white mask looks at me. Two others to his side. \n\"Halló? Tud beszélni? Hall engem?\" \n\"My.... family... here? ... Where... am... i?\" \nOne of the others spoke. \n\"Angol. Hivjátok be Zsoltot, ő beszéli.\" \nOne of the others left. \nOkay, i seem to be alive, i can't really move. The walls are white and made of tiles, i must be in a hospital. I can't recognize the language tho. They speak spanish? No it is different. Where... when am i? I have a family... i think. Are they okay? \nA fourth man came in, was wearing grey instead of white. Strange cap with a cross, no a black \"+\"? What is going on? \n\"Good ev-nin. Are you spee-king eng-leesh?\" \n\"Yeah. Where am i? Who... who are you?\" \nThe man in white had a ... surprised expression on his face. \n\"Ez most amerikás?\" \n\"Are you ameri-can?\" \n\"Yes.\" \n\"Mi a neve?\" \n\"What is your name?\" \n\"I'm... i'm Jack, Jack Johnson.\" \nOne of the men in white yelled to the others: \n\"Ez nem az! Mit keverhettek össze?\" \nThe one who hasn't spoken yet answered: \n\"Nézzünk egy DNSt. Ha nem is magyar, legalább beosztjuk takarítónak...\" \n\"Mut bánom én... Őrmester, mondja meg neki, hogy ne mozogjon. Holnapra jobban lesz és mindent megbeszélünk. Egyenlőre szedje össze a gondolatait.\" \n\"Értettem. Look, Jack. Jack, you need to... think about yourself. You can't move yet. We will come back tomorrow morning and you will get answers.\" \n\"Yea.\" \nI was confused... this was the best answer i could blurt out. I have no idea what is happening, but so far it looks like i'm not in danger.",
"\"He's waking up!\" The voice sounded almost exactly like my little sister's. I was half lying, half sitting on what felt like a couch with an armrest torn off. \"Don't get up too quickly,\" said a voice that must have belonged to a kid no older than twelve. I raised a slimy hand to wipe off some of the cryogenic coagulant covering my face, than realized the futility of the gesture. \"They put some nasty stuff into that vat,\" I groaned. My voice couldn't have sounded more hungover, but I doubted any of the kids here knew what that even meant. \"I can't open my eyes, without getting the stuff in 'em. Where am I? Who's in charge here? Someone wiped a mat over my face, and I opened my eyes to see a ten year old Black boy, an eight year old Caucasian girl, and another girl with who's face suggested being of Asian decent, either Chinese or Thai. She seemed the oldest of the three, and said \"That would be me. I'm Doctor Patel.\" (Indian! Should have guessed it.) \"That's very funny, but I need to see an actual adult.\" Her face a mask, she retorted \"mentally I am a hundred years older than you, Mr. Doe. The cryogenics that froze you were primitive, we were hardly able to figure out how to thaw you out. You're lucky that Dr. Jones urged me to continue pulling you out, I thought you would be a lost cause for sure.\" I looked around. I was in some sort of children's hospital. I was lying on a cot made for a kid, and I could see the cryogenic pod in the corner of the room. At this point, the Black kid spoke up. \"I'm Doctor Peter Jones, sir. You must be really confused. I apologize for my colleague, she doesn't really spend a lot of time using bedside manners.\" At this, Patel stared such daggers at him, it was a wonder she didn't break skin. \"You see, years after you were put under, we discovered a way to halt the aging process. a person who looks ten today, might actually be hundreds of years old.\" \"You called me Mr. Doe,\" I said, trying to wrap my head around this. When faced with huge things, I tend to react by focusing on the smallest matters. Why is that?\" The younger girl spoke up. \"You're registered as John Doe, sir. I don't think she realized what that means.\" They labeled me dead? \"I-it's Greene. Felix Greene\" \"Greene,\" asked the boy. \"Do you think he?\" \"Of course not,\" snapped Patel. This guy was out of the way, but not *that* far out of the way. Mr. Greene, what year was it when you went under?\" I told them. \"We got him,\" said the younger girl. \"We got the first.\"\n\nIt took days for me to get acclimated to the new world. In addition to computer-based education, I was also educated by some of the greatest teachers in the world. All of whom looked like they should have been in fourth or fifth grade. Evidently, after they found a fix for telomerase, scientists mastered the hormones of development. The result: a pill that froze aging. Some chose to stop aging at twenty one, others eighteen, others going only far enough to be able to conceive children. However, the segment of the population that remained prepubescent turned out to be the most successful, through a combination of neuroelasticity, capacity the work together, and the use of time not devoted to pornography. By the time ten-year olds (the boys were always ten. The girls tended to \"freeze\" immediately before menarche.) ruled the world, all the older people could not turn back. More that one of my tutors mournfully told me that I would probably only live to the age of 250. The world was a better place. Without the avarice and greed of the past, world peace had been achieved. As the world's population consumed children's calories, farms were able to keep up with population growth, and deforestation and land-grabbing came to an end. When everyone started to have children through artificial wombs, racial, ethnic, and nationalist movements kind of fell apart. Rape obviously stopped being a thing. I found myself being the only man who owned a house without a ball pit or cotton candy machine.\n\n\"Mr. Greene, it's been a year since you woke up, what's it like living in the modern day?\" It was my third press conference since my \"resurrection,\" and all the press were scrambling to speak to the oldest man alive. \"Well, I still think of this beautiful world as the future. Do you know how much I relish waking up every morning knowing that there are no more wars, or third world countries? How much I love spending every day watching the people of countries that used to be filled with chaos ind strife build new things? I didn't know what a weight on my shoulders climate change was until it was lifted. The pizza's good too.\" They all laughed. The nice thing about being one of the last adults is that everyone else has the sense of humor of a kid. I took the next question. \"Mr. Greene, how lonely do you feel, being so isolated in your circumstances?\" It was a good question. I was one of two men who had been unfrozen in the last fifteen years. The other guy was an angry Australian in his eighties who wanted nothing to do with me. None of the three women spoke English. And the total lack of porn was a struggle. \"Very empathetic of you, Alissa. It's still hard for me to remember that even though I'm chronologically and physically older than all my neighbors, I'm mentally centuries beneath them.\" \"Sir, having seen the world change so much, what advise do you have to the world?\" \"All the good I've seen, all the change that's been made came at a tremendous risk. No one knew whether I'd survive being frozen, or if they could get me out. The first kids to freeze early didn't know what the ramifications of being ten for so long would be. We had no idea if the Perseus missions would work, but we launched them anyway. It's very easy to fall into the trap of complacency. But don't. You never know which risk will change the world.\"",
"Kyle pushed open the heavy hospital door and emerged into sunlight. He breathed deep and shielded his face. It was bright and burning, as if the sun was too close to the surface of the earth. It was hot. He felt sweat bead at his hairline immediately. Rubbing his eyes, he blinked and tried to adjust.\n\nIt had been winter when he went under. The cancer was too aggressive. This was his only option.\n\n\"They're close to a treatment on this particular strain, Mr. Matthews,\" his doctor had muttered, reviewing his paperwork from behind a wide, polished wood desk. \"Five, six years perhaps. No more than ten, surely.\"\n\nKyle had glanced at Jenna then, and her eternally optimistic gaze was as bright as the sun that greeted him outside the hospital. She had grasped his hand so tightly.\n\n\"We have the money, Kyle. We can do this.\"\n\n\"Jenna, please,\" he sighed. \"To be gone for that long...the boys...\"\n\n\"I think the boys would rather lose five years with you than forever.\" Her smile had been glorious. A solution.\n\nSo he had agreed. Cryogenically frozen for five years, ten at the most. At that point they would revive him whether there was something to be done for his cancer or not. He didn't want to leave them for any longer than he would have to.\n\nKisses all around. Tommy understood what was happening, but little Dave thought Daddy was taking a long nap. He kept growling like a bear because he had just learned the term hibernation. Tommy had tried really hard not to cry, but he was seven. It was impossible not to cry a bit. Jenna had held them all close and tight, her hand absentmindedly rubbing her belly. A third boy, Joseph was growing inside of her. Five more months and he'd be joining the wait for Kyle's return. Jenna then sent them out with her mother so she could be with him for the end.\n\n\"I'll be here when you wake up,\" she had promised, whispering in his ear.\n\nAnd then he had woke up. She had been wrong.\n\nKyle felt like he had dreamed about Jenna for a long time. As if she had never been real, just a figment of those long dreams. When he woke, she was not there. He stumbled out of his chamber, his legs in shambles even with the machines that had worked so hard to keep his muscles from atrophying. \n\nThe hospital was empty. It was clean and empty, as if all the patients and staff and visitors had just vanished one day. Kyle found some scrubs in a locker and changed, tamping down his confusion and fear as hard as he could. All electricity was off. He couldn't boot a computer or get an outside phone line. Nothing, no one. Kyle called out into the dark the obligatory: \"Hello! Is anyone there?\" It was met with unfeeling tile floors and whitewashed drywall.\n\nHe stumbled out of the hospital and into the bright sunlight. The streets were empty, the businesses closed. The entire city was shut down. Kyle swallowed and scanned the neighborhood from the hospital grounds, but there was nothing. A ghost town.\n\n\"But nothing's destroyed,\" Kyle murmured. There was no devastation, no sickness he could tell. No bodies, no broken down cars. Nothing. He was getting tired of repeating that in his mind over and over again: nothing, nothing, nothing... There was nothing else to do; he began walking.\n\nFor hours Kyle walked through an empty desert of suburbia. He stopped at a grocery store and found aisles and aisles of food still available. No electricity so the produce and frozen stuff were depleted, but the boxed stuff and canned goods were still edible. For the first time he noticed there was a thick film of dust over everything. The hospital had been so empty there had been nothing for dust to settle on, but in the grocery store, it was everywhere. Kyle ate a little, his stomach small and full from the chamber keeping him fed, but it was nice to eat real food again.\n\nAfter the store, the walk continued. It was droning and monotonous. At sunset Kyle's frustration was impossible. He finally stopped at a community playground and screamed into nothing. Obviously the plan to revive him had failed, but for how long. How many months had passed? Years? Decades? Where was his family?\n\nHe screamed into the setting sun as it dipped below the horizon without a care. Kyle's frustration had no effect on its path. Time continued to pass.\n\nEverything was shaking, the need to sit was absolute. He sat on a swing and held his face in his hands. More than anything else he wanted to see Jenna. Needed to see her. Everything could be dealt with if he could just speak to his wife.\n\nThe air moved around Kyle. It disrupted the soft stillness of the oncoming evening. Someone was in the playground with him. His head snapped up and he twisted in the swing to get a better look at who had appeared.\n\nIt was a man. Thirty or thirty-five. A serene expression on his face as he walked directly toward Kyle. Kyle jumped off the swing, immediately on guard, not knowing what to expect.\n\nThe man approached slowly, but with little caution. He stopped four feet in front of Kyle, and put his hands in his pockets. He was relaxed as he studied the scared, confused man in hospital scrubs who had recently been swinging and crying like a child.\n\n\"Hello,\" Kyle finally said. His throat, despite the faint whispers to himself, felt raw and raspy with the effort to make speech. The man's casual grin widened.\n\n\"I'm glad to see you're up and about. We were unsure if you were going to join us.\"\n\n\"Join who?\" Kyle asked. He glanced around. \"There's no one here. Who are you? Do you know me?\"\n\n\"Indeed I do,\" the young man smiled broadly, stepping closer to Kyle. \"It's incredibly good to meet you, dad,\" said Joseph.\n\n**I know I changed the parameters a little on the prompt. Also, I kind of want to make this a two-parter, is that allowed? New to the group...**",
"I remember climbing into the chamber at New Life Cryotech, LLC, New Jersey branch. The cryogenic pod is not a big pod, and my shoulders and chest barely fit, even as small as they've become since the cancer treatments began. The technicians have me hooked up to a machine that's going to switch out my blood for a cryogenically durable solution. I remember them giving me a sedative, and I remember feeling really cold. The cold seemed to turn to warmth as the world went black.\n\nNow I feel heat. Searing, agonizing heat. I instinctively try to open my mouth to moan, but for some reason, my mouth won't open.\n\n\"Hey, I've got active brainwaves here,\" someone shouts. \"I need some help here!\"\n\n\"We have a viable? Details! Give me stats! I need a scan done immediately!\" Another voice shouts.\n\n\"We started the warm-up sequence, sir, but it started going too fast. The solution they put in his bloodstream is starting to turn to gas!\"\n\n\"For crying out loud, start pumping it out! Warm blood and saline, stat! Someone get me a lot of water, ninety eight point six degrees Fahrenheit!\"\n\n\"What's that in celsius?\"\n\n\"Thirty seven, idiot!\"\n\n\"Here we go! Injecting blood and saline now,\" a calmer, female voice announces.\n\n\"Adding water,\" another female voice says.\n\nThe heat grows worse, and I feel like I'm burning up inside. Wetness begins at my back, and slowly works it's way towards my chest. The water feels like it should be boiling. The liquid covers me, even my face. I feel like I'm going to drown, until I realize that someone is gently pushing on my chest, and I feel tubes going in my nose. I vaguely feel the air coming out of my mouth. The heat begins to die down to merely uncomfortable.\n\nThe water is slowly drained away, and hands grab hold of me, lifting me and setting me on something warm. I slowly open my eyes and try to flex my jaw. My body still feels somewhat numb.\n\nThe first thing I see is fuzzy darkness, followed by fuzzy near darkness with some shades of brown. I flex some more, and slowly my body begins to work. I work as many muscles as I can and soon my body appears to wake up, as my stomach begins to growl. I feel whatever is beneath me move, and I slowly recognize I'm on a gurney of some sort. The lights mostly don't appear to be on, and I find myself unable to make my eyes, focus.\n\n\"Wha....what's....whaaaa....t's....... ggggggnnnggg oooooonnnnnnnn,\" I ask through a mostly numb mouth that is really feeling drier than it should.\n\n\"Don't worry,\" one of the female fuzzy blobs says, patting my arm. \"We'll explain everything in time.\"\n\nSuddenly, I hear a high pitched whining noise. It gets louder, and the gurney stops as all of the nurse-like blobs stop pushing and stand straight. Something giving off a lot of light blurs past, and before anyone can do anything, it flies right back, stopping and hovering in front of one of the nurse blobs. I hear a very high pitched and completely unfamiliar language being spoken, first by the light-giving thingy, then by the nurse blob.\n\nThe light thingy suddenly drops down close to my face, and the light dims slightly. I suddenly see a humanoid form in the light. It speaks at me, but I don't understand. It suddenly lands on my face, and as its wings stop, the whining noise goes away. Tiny hands and feet latch onto my face as the tiny being begins a full body shudder, sending some sort of dust down onto my face. Something liquid also falls into my mouth and onto my eyes. My eyes seem to begin to focus better, and my body stops feeling as numb. The tiny humanoid's wings start to flutter again, and it takes off, flying away.\n\n\"I'm sorry,\" the nurse says, getting my attention. I can see her much better now, and she's surprisingly cute. \"I know you have lots of questions. That was a fairy. Her name is....well it translates as Lady Butterthorne. She....um....bought the facility, as well as all of us. I'm afraid you work for her, now.\"\n\nThe nurses begin pushing the gurney again. I recognize the greatly aged walls of the New Life facility. It looks like they are decades old and in poor repair.\n\n\"What...what do you mean,\" I ask. \"What's the date? Where did that...um...fairy come from? What's going on?\"\n\n\"Well,\" the nurse began. \"It all began a few decades ago, when mysterious spaceships arrived, carrying beings we'd all dismissed as legends....\"",
"\n\"Status: Awake? Repeat query. Status: Awake?\" \n\nHe blinked and shifted. Ice seemed flake off him as he shivered. His body felt numb. His vision was blurry, at first. \n\nHe saw a pair of white shining orbs move beyond the frost encrusted glass. \n\n\"Subject is awake!\" said that mechanical voice, pitching higher in a simulation of excitement. He lay there, unable to move much beyond a twitch as shadows passed before him. \n\nAfter a moment too long, the cover of the cryopod rose and slender, cold arms pulled him carefully out of the pod into the warmer air outside. \n\nHe saw silvery masks move about above his head, glowing against the darkened chamber outside. After a number of injections to his shoulder he felt the numbness begin to wear off. Cold hands helped him to sit up on a cold, stone floor. \n\n\"Who...are you?\" \n\n\"It talks! Subject can speak- analyzing...subject speaks in Central, the language of the creators!\" a mask shifted closer to him, vaguely feminine if stylized. From the glow of its eyes he could observe thin, spider like mechanical arms clasped in the darkness in a likeness of joy. \n\n\"It is...human.\" said the other mask, in a synthesized voice. It loomed closer, above his head, judging almost. \"What is your name?\"\n\nHe narrowed his eyes, \"You don't know?\" \n\n\"Information not available.\" the female mask confirmed, \"State identity for the record?\" \n\nHe looked around, seeing nothing in the darkness. \"Where am I? Why is it so dark?\" \n\n\"Humans need light to see.\" the male mask turned to the female mask. \"Light is unavailable here, human. Light will be available in two hours thirty five minutes fourty three seconds when the sun rises.\" \n\nHe frowned at them, \"Just bring me to another human then. I'll find a light switch somewhere nearby probably.\" he said dryly. \n\nThe masks looked at each other again. The female mask faced him and said, quite casually, \"Humans thought to be extinct since solar event in 2346. Subject is first living example of humanity to be discovered since.\" \n\nHe heard the words. It didn't sink in. \"What?\" \n\n\"Specify query.\" the male mask said, \"Ambiguous query cannot be identified.\" \n\n\"What do you mean humans are extinct?\" he growled, \"I...I had to face so many of them, all those smug bastards locking me away in this icy coffin, all those merciless scientists poking at me while I was half-awake like a pinned bug-!\"\n\n\"Humans thought to be extinct since solar event in 2346.\" the female mask repeated, \"Subject designation unavailable. State identity for the record?\" \n\nIt still wasn't sinking in. He couldn't understand the fact even though it was now inside his consciousness.\n\n\"I...I need to go outside.\" he said, trying to stand. His legs wobbled and he felt slender arms supporting him. \"Please, help me outside.\" \n\nHe stumbled in the darkness. Slender arms carried him. He heard the crunching of glass underfoot and the sounds of bending metal. He felt fresh air eventually and he was set down on a grassy surface. \n\nHe waited until the sun rose, shivering slightly in the cool night. \n\nHe wasn't sure he wanted to see what the sun would bring. "
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[removed] | [WP] You have finally discovered the secrets to time travel and are using it to go back in time and kill Hitler, not because you particularly care about the millions who died, but rather because you're tired of the topic reappearing on /r/WritingPrompts every few days and want to put an end to it. | 3 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"Hi there, this post has been removed.\n\nNo troll or meme-based prompts. \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/5v0guz/wp_you_have_finally_discovered_the_secrets_to/%0A%0A)"
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(If you want to say what the song was, tell us as a reply to your story!) | [WP] Your prompt is the first line of the last song you heard. | 3 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"The rain made a pattering sound on Bethany's umbrella. She had to hold it with a certain grip she had never used in conjunction with an umbrella, as the wind made an annoying low moan when it ungracefully passed her ears. *shitty day shitty weather* Bethany made a quick left into the coffee shop, mostly to get out of the rain. The coffee was a fortunate side effect. *this kind of weather must be hell with hair longer than five inches* \nShe was able to spot a familiar face as the woman behind the counter foamed the milk and the signature noise of the machine rang out across the shop. She did not know the woman behind this face, but she did recognize it. She remembered seeing a comedy sketch about that \"one person\" that you don't know, yet see more often than a true stranger. The memory made her chuckle, as she remembered the comedian's thick accent. Bethany retrieved her order and sat down at a small table against the wall, using the chair opposite to rest her legs *where do i know that face.* \nBethany racked her brain for a woman to apply to the face, but *not a friend of a friend* to no avail. *this shouldn't bother me so much* Every event she had been to in the past year flew in front of her mind's *why is she at so many parties* eye, and in every one she saw the woman was present. *what the fuck* It was at that point that a synapse brought up a word in Bethany's *stalker* brain that compelled her to leave the coffee shop immediately. The woman followed. ",
"See them standing in the foothills, waiting for the kill. \n\nThe bandits saw the caravan of RVs and mounted up, on their motorcycles. \nDavid saw them first, and called out a warning. \n\nIn seconds the air was filled with bullets, as my wife observed \"It's the Invasion from Space, and these selfish idiots attack fellow Humans ?!?!? Jerry? Kill them. Just kill them.\" \n\nI obeyed without a word. \nMy captured Alien Plasma Cannon pulsed out a blast of superheated particles. \nThe lead bandit was obliterated, as his now riderless motorcycle rolled down hill, across the highway and into a ditch. The flames it sported were no longer made of mere paint. \n\nMy sweet wife, Karen kept us on course, driving the RV with our family on board. \n\nEric is my oldest boy, and I am proud of him as he let fly with his compound longbow through the Port side rear window. His aim is true and the bandit is send to the afterlife with a meter of feathered wood sticking from his chest. \n\nCarol, my youngest daughter is too young to be in a fight, but does her best to help anyway. \n\n\"Starboard is still clear, Mom! \" she yelled. \n\nJanice is my oldest child, and a decent shot, but is better in a fight involving the martial arts, having won the county championship last month. Still, she takes aim with a Remington shotgun and removes another bandit. \n\nHer husband, Max, is a good guy, and a Godsend for Janice. He keeps firing his own shotgun, and together they turn the tide in our favor. \n\nThe rest of the bandits turn tail and run. \n\nNow we just need to get to the Base, so that we can deliver our 'guest' to the military. Our 'guest' was the original owner of the Plasma Cannon... "
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"1487540742",
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[removed] | [WP]You find a magic typewriter that writes for you. After you get published, you find out the typewriter is racist. | 2 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"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, politics, necrophilia, pedophilia, bestiality, incest, torture, rape, or suicide. 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/5v185m/wpyou_find_a_magic_typewriter_that_writes_for_you/%0A%0A)"
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"1487547690",
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[WP] Hatred is a poison. | 3 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"\"Hatred is a poison. A very virulent one at that\"\n\nThe Apothecary placed a small vial of strange substance. Sometimes green, as the color of envy, scarlet as the color of blood, and at times the murkiest of black. It constantly bubbled and hissed inside it's glass phial with a cork and red was seal, stamped with his mark. The poison changed quickly and erratically, sometimes an ooze, sometimes a black lump, and sometimes crystals hissing colored steams, as if never contented with itself. A substance almost as disgusting as the Apothecary who found himself on the Breaking Wheel once for his crimes. \n\nThe cloaked figure reached out to seize the bottle but was found grasping at air as the robes of the Apothecary whisked the bottle away allowing for nary a glance at his twisted fingers.\n\n\"Ah ah ah! This poison is not an easy one to procure, it must be distilled from someone already twisted by it. Someone whose heart is already corrupted with its effects. This one is from me, it took me a great deal of pain to produce this much, but then again, to make someone a monster you only need to give them so little. So what twists your soul into such an agony to desire this?\"\n\nThe cloaked figure stiffened at the question. Silence hung in the room as she pondered the question. The Apothecary waited patiently as her mind raced. To question if it was safe to tell him the why, or the how, or anything at all. She must have found her peace, for she spoke,\n\n\"The knight killed my family in a jealous grudge and killed them slowly. He would not even grace them with a quick death, I want him to suffer far worse than any man should ever deserve. I want his death to be slow and self-inflicted or I will never be at peace.\"\n\n\"Then this is not revenge for your families memories?\"\n\n\"No, this is for me to watch him suffer, this is for me to take joy in watching as much as he enjoyed the suffering he inflicts. He will destroy himself and never know why. I want this for my own satisfaction\"\n\nThe Apothecary smiled a sickly smile with filthy teeth.\n\n\"Step into the back, we'll being this distillation soon, I just need to lock up first, don't want prying eyes.\"\n\nHe pulled back the stained purple curtain to reveal a Breaking Wheel."
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"1487573929",
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[WP] Four years ago a mystic told you that you'd die when you heard a certain song. You've successfully avoided it by eliminating all radio, MP3s, and CDs. It's your senior prom and you're with the prettiest date you could imagine. The song comes on for the final slow dance. | 1 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"It was drastic, and pathetic.\n\n2 years ago i was warned that if i ever heard a specific song, it would be the day i die.\n\nSo when i took charlene's hand for the last dance and heard it start i took action to save my self and in doing so ended up causing my own death.\n\nI thought every copy of that song had been destroyed, the last few required... coercion, which explains why i was carrying a gun at a high school prom.\n\ni saw in a movie once that if you fire a gun really close to your head you can go deaf, so i pulled out my weapon and fired, once for each ear.\n\nOf course in movies they don't pay too much attention to where the bullets go, so as i drop to the floor in agony i don't notice that two other people drop with me.\n\nWhen I saw my sister and my girlfriend lying in a pool of their own blood, i couldn't take it. \n\nI could just make out the music over the ringing in my ears and the screaming of the crowd.\n\nAs i put the gun to my head i heard the psychics words one last time and realised my mistake was in assuming it was the song that would kill me, when in reality the song was just a warning.\n\nIt was drastic, and pathetic, and completely my own fault."
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1,
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"1487574443",
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[WP] The stork really brings babies to people; the only form of birth control is to fight the stork, but the stork knows every form of fighting there is. | 14 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"“So you’ve come” Mary had her back to the visitor.\n“There are consequences to any action and in your case. I’ve come to deliver” \t\nA glint of a knife and Mary was at the storks throat. The stork executed a neosque dodge and swept Mary off her feet\n“You should have thought of this before you decided to…copulate” \nMary stood up \n“I didn’t have sex!” \n“You lie!” \nThe stork executed a graceful roundhouse kick which sent Mary flying. \n“I have the full weight of the free world behind me.Did you really think you could beat me mano a mano?” \n“N…not my president” Mary whimpered. \nThe stork rummaged through his pouch and retrieved a bald baby who duly began screaming.He shrugged and dropped the baby onto Mary.\n“Let this be a lesson to you Mother Mary. If you don’t use a condom you get beaten up by a stork and get a baby dumped on you”\nThe heavens cracked open and a bolt of lightning incinerated the stork leaving behind two rather well fried stork legs.\nJesus wept. \n"
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"1487574563",
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[WP] Write a love story in a world where humans are only sexually attracted to each other between May and July, the way bears are. | 28 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"I hated Spring; \"The Golden Gay Time\" people called it, but this period of time between May and July was truly a dumb season filled with dumb people. Not that the other seasons were filled with any less dumb people, but Spring made people absolutely unbearable. Businesses would shut down, utilities would stop, hell even wars would end - all for this brief period of a few months because everybody in the world was getting it on.\n\nEverybody I knew right now was in the town's Gymnasium, partaking in unspeakable promiscuity while I alone sat in the abandoned Starbucks on the corner of Elm, stroking my beard and listening to Vinyl records on my hand powered turn table- not because I was some kind of hipster, but because there was no running water or electricity. \n\n\"I can't believe this\" I muttered to myself, attempting make some coffee with a friction-fire. \"I just don't understand how everyone can up and leave for a fourth of the year to go bone.\" I breathed heavily, cursing my misfortune as I worked feverishly grinding coffee beans with a rock with one hand while spinning my records with my other hand. \"Maybe the power goes out, maybe the gas goes out, maybe government shuts down and anarchy breaks out but I absolutely cannot believe they'd stop running Starbucks, this is utterly irresponsible. Downright barbaric. This is like the apocalypse every damn year and everybody just acts like it's normal.\"\n\n\"Don't be salty just because you're ugly\" a voice called out from the shadows of the corners of the Starbucks beyond the counter. I dropped my coffee-stone in shock, and my vinyl record spun off to an abrupt stop. \"Hello? Who's there?\" It sounded like a girl, but I couldn't be sure because potentially it was yet another malnourished child looking for their orgy-porgy parents in vein.\n\n\"And excuuse me?\" I said, in my most 'oh-no-you-didn't' tone.\n\n\"Just being honest\" said the voice, a little bit closer this time as a girl crept out from the shadows with a paper bag on her face. \"Don't worry, I'm the same way.\"\n\n\"Oh.. Yeah this whole season is pretty dumb right?\" I asked, trying to sympathize with the paper-bag girl. \"No, we're just ugly. Can you make me some coffee too?\" She replied non-nonchalantly as she stepped to my turn table, resuming my task of spinning the records. I cringed as The Best of Radiohead played by far too fast, ruining the grungy vibe. \"I don't know girl\", I responded while inspecting my blistered palms. \"This is pretty hard work. And they won't be selling Neosporin for at least another 2 months\"\n\n\"You know what else is hard?\" Bag-head said as she crept closer to me.\n\n\"Starting a fire with sticks?\" I muttered, even more disgruntled. Bag-head's shoulders slumped and the music grinded to a halt as she clutched her bag-face. Seeing her disappointment, I caved, \"God fine I'll make you some coffee but play the music right.\" She pulled up a bar stool, dragging it along the way creating the most cacophonous series of shrieks I've ever heard in my life. \n\nThe music resumed, this time a little bit more smoothly. \"Aren't you going to ask my name?\" Bag-head prodded. \n\n\"Oh yeah uh... hi I'm Bran.\"\n\nBag-head rolled her eyes inside her bag and let out an exasperated sigh, \"Nice to meat you Bran, I'm Elle.\"\n\n\"Hey wow I know someone named Elle. She's pretty ugly though.\" I said, pouring the coarsely grinded coffee grits into a tin cup and moving on to starting the fire with two sticks. The music grinded again to a halt, interrupting my fire-starting.\n\n\"Hey, where you going Bag-head? What am I going to do with all this coffee?\"\n",
"I could tell by the look in her eyes that it was already starting to fade. It was late July, and my relationship with Jasmine, which had begun only a few short months ago, had been beautiful so far.\n\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\n-------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\nIt had started on a warm day in mid-April. I’d seen her in a café, sipping on her iced coffee. She didn’t notice me, of course. No one noticed anyone during the off months. But I saw her and she stole the breath out of me. \n\n\nGolden brown hair caught the mid-morning light, her blue eyes glittered, and her smile glowed as she laughed at something in the book she was reading. Long, tan legs peeked out from the bottom of her knee-length pink skirt, and a tiny bit of cleavage showed above her tight sweater, hinting at the full bosom beneath. \n\nI know it sounds cheesy, but I was star-struck. She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen, and I knew I had to get to know her. So, in my clearly brilliant mind, I hatched a plan. \n\nWhile walking past her table, I “tripped,” splashing my half-full cup of espresso on the edge of her skirt and toppling her iced coffee. She jumped up, startled, and began patting at her hem amidst my wave of apologies. \n\n“It’s fine,” she dismissed with a wave of her delicate hand. “It’ll wash out and besides, I don’t like this skirt anyways!” I smiled my most charming smile. \n\n“At least let me buy you a new coffee!” After some convincing, she agreed to let me buy her a fresh iced coffee. When I returned with my new espresso and her iced coffee, we sat and chatted for a while, and that was that. \n\nI somehow won her over with my charm, and we exchanged numbers, keeping in touch a bit. But in a few weeks, the first May flowers began showing their colors, and with them came the return of attraction. \n\nOur first dinner together ended in.. let’s just say the passionate throes that only a 3-month “mating season” could bring about. \n\n&nbsp;\n\n\n--------------------------------------------------\n\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\nBy the end of July, it was growing steadily harder to grab her attention away from other things. I would try to kiss her and she would pull back, an annoyed look on her face. If I reached for her hand as we watched a show, she would swat me and scoot away from me. Everything I did was met with a sharp reaction, except for brief hours of “clarity,” when she would pounce on me like some sort of sex-crazed tigress. \n\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\nFinally, on the 31st of July, we had a few hours of clarity again, the last for months. After satisfying her more primal needs, I grabbed her hand and pulled her into the kitchen. With steaming mugs of coffee in hand, I decided to tell her the truth: \n\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\n“Jasmine, I know you don’t understand this. It’s going to sound crazy, but please listen, this is the truth. Two centuries ago, mankind – America especially – was in a crisis. People were procreating too much for the earth to handle, teenagers were getting pregnant and abandoning kids, and rape was an alarmingly huge problem. The government didn’t know what to do. Finally, scientists came up with a solution: \n\nThey somehow manufactured a chemical or a hormone or something.. I’m not clear on those details.. but whatever it was, it regulated human sexuality; all of mankind now had a “mating cycle” similar to a bear, and we were only sexually attracted to anyone during those 3 months. \n\nIt had some unforeseen side effects, though. Now people weren’t interested in pursuing a relationship at all outside of those three months. People only settled down together when the female was impregnated. I know all of this sounds so cold and clinical, but it’s how it works now. No one marries for love… Hell, no one even marries! They just sort of move in together. The children are the glue of every family unit. Once the kid grows up, or dies in some cases, the parents just sort of drift apart. \n\nNow, the way this chemical or whatever it is works, it can be genetically passed down. The government doesn’t really even manufacture it anymore. They keep a small amount in stock for outliers, but most people have the inborn genetic modification now for this mating cycle. But they hunt down outliers. \n\nI was part of a group for a while, a sort of outlier support group, until we got betrayed by someone we thought was one of us. He turned us all in to the government. The compliant ones just got the shot and moved on. But the ones who struggled.. they killed them in cold blood. Brutally. I’ve been running ever since.” \n\nI took a deep breath. “Jasmine, I know this all sounds crazy, but you’ve got to believe me. I don’t want to lose you. We can run away together and find some way to, I don’t know, fix this? You do believe me, don’t you?!” \n\nI looked up from my coffee to see Jasmine with an eerie smile on her face. Rather than answer my question, she lifted her watch to her face and spoke, clearly and calmly: “Sargent, I found the last remaining outlier.” \n",
"I remember chasing girls as a teenager, I'd sit in school and stare at Jenny's tits. The hot teacher would drop something and bend over in front of the class and all us boys would snicker. Then something happened one August when I was in my mid-20's. Romance just stopped, for everyone. Dating websites stopped getting visitors. Strip clubs closed. Only families were found at restaurants, there were no cute couples going out on a date anymore. But even that started to dwindle as people found more time for each other at home. \n\nHumans had lost their lust for each other. Scientists and psychologists everywhere were baffled. This just wasn't normal. By March the sex industry was dead. Children were being born, but no one had gotten pregnant since August despite many efforts. Many feared humans were becoming extinct.\n\nThen May came. Suddenly the human body released months worth of chemicals. Humans began frolicking with each other like rabbits. The first couple of weeks saw a savage increase in rapes of both sexes. It was an orgasmic chaotic orgy all over the world. Then people started to realize exactly what was happening. Their mating urges had gone seasonal, just like the animals. \n\nI'm an old man now. Humans didn't go extinct. In fact, every year nearly all women of age have children within a few weeks of each other. Entire industries were reshaped in those first couple of years. But here's the real kicker, now that we stopped wasting so much time chasing each other, we got a lot done. Medicine is so advanced that even cancer has been cured. Our population boom every year has invigorated the farming industries, hospitals, and even the space program. Food isn't scarce anymore, no one starves and there is no poverty. We've populated the solar system and are even making advances with FTL travel. So much time for mathematics has led great advances throughout the world.\n\nWhat happened? We still don't know. But damn we are making the best of it. Having 3/4's of your year without having to worry about getting laid sure gives you lots of free time to just get things done."
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[WP] You are a wizard whose power comes from using correct grammar. | 0 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"\"I am a wizard. I am a wizard. I am a wizard.\" I repted or and or. I nod it'd be all I sayed for the rest of me life and I woned if it'd drive me craze or if I alr'd was. \"I am a wizard. I am a wizard. I am a wizard.\" I usd cast speels at I ad to perfet word; stuff like \"I lift my hand up and take aim. I summon fire in my hands and cast it towards you.\" Prey basc an kida stupd butt I wasnit ever real good. \"I am a wizard. I am a wizard. I am a wizard.\" I'm livin alon ow in es sml cabn but fo ot mush logner. Unce I'm ready I'm gonna kill em and take at I want. \"I am a wizard. I am a wizard. I am a wizard.\" It's cold I'm cold 'eat self' I ink an al I e is red.\n\nTwo weeks earlier. \n\n\"John, meet me near the creek\" I ear as I ead ot the door. It's the irst speel anybody learn but erybody says mine sounds like its comin through an closed door. Al ya do es say 'ohever ears me say' befo what ya wann em o ear an ey do. I gets ere right aft he arrive an e say \"Hello, I have found an interesting pond full of the most spectacular fish located just over the next incline. Would you like to join me in my journey to this incredible pond?\" \"ight as ong as im out of me ouse, me mum sid she dint wanna e me for the ext couple a hours\" I spout out. John laughs as he allway does when I talk an we ead out. Were walkin along ide the creek an allove the sudden an man crashes rough the bushs on the othr side runnin strait at uhs and I real eys hes a slaver. I bolts out o their not evn thinkn of John but befo I gets even foot away I feel straight in the ground. When's I waked up I an in o cave and theirs no light butt thes purpel gloo off two m yleft. I got ip an walk oer ther an thers a nbok glon. I rech ot an opn et and it as one ing on et \"I cast spells with thought and charge spells with grammar.\" I says et an I fell the cang. En I says the one ing I kno is proper \"I am a wizard.\"\n\nSorry for the ruff read, it was a ruff write but it was fun."
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1,
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"1487619780",
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[removed] | [WP] You really do not want to write about that. But today, you are going to. | 2 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\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/5v7qwe/wp_you_really_do_not_want_to_write_about_that_but/%0A%0A)",
"September 2nd 2017, todays the day…Everything has led up to this. It’s a windy day, a slight drizzle hits the ground and makes my room sound lively by it hitting my window. I sit down and imagine who I was a year ago, how much I was different. How sad I was. I used to not be able to move out of bed and would barely eat or drink. However since this day last year I made a creed to make it to this day, and I have. Surprisingly knowing that this day was coming has given me a sort of euphoric bliss. Honestly I do not want to write this but without it the whole day seems kind of pointless. I guess now is a better time than any to get started “Mom, Dad. When you read this note I will be gone forever…….”"
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[removed] | [WP] You build a time machine to go back and meet Jesus. But the secret you unveil completely changes your life and history as you know it. | 1 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"Hi there, this post has been removed.\n\nPrompts are not meant to share stories already written, but to inspire users to write stories. Check our [related link wiki](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/links) for more relevant subreddits. We want to inspire new writing here. Try a prompt that takes authors on a new journey. Not a journey that has already been made. \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/5vbid5/wp_you_build_a_time_machine_to_go_back_and_meet/%0A%0A)"
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[WP] Not too far in the future, students attend school for 14 hours per day. They learn everything from the government, including moral lessons and taxes. The change isn't because of some government conspiracy, it's because parents voted to relieve their parental duties to the school system | 17 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"I couldn't understand it at first. Why, if you decided to have a child, would you want them to spend the majority of their time stuck in a classroom being spoon fed information by the government? It didn't really sit well with me. \n\nI still remember the referendum. It happened around five years ago now. It all started with the increase in parents only having children to 'fit the social norm' and then within a few years they became insanely jealous of their childfree peers. Nannies became more and more common, and soon it was one of the most well paid jobs out there. The country was in crisis mode. Social Services were stretched to their limits. The amount of children being fostered and adopted plummeted to almost zero. People didn't want to look after their own kids, why would they want to look after anyone elses? \n\nAfter a few years of this the government called for a vote. They had proposed a new plan. Children would stay in school for fourteen hours a day. School would start at 7:30 am and would end at 9:30 pm. They would be given all three meals and transport would be provided for those who lived too far away to be able to walk. In most parents eyes, this was perfect. They didn't have to look after their own children, didn't have to pay and the kids would be learning at the same time. \n\nThe end vote was pretty much unanimous. The result ended up being: 98% yes and 2% no. The children didn't get a say. \n\nBut then, the government started releasing more details. Stuff that wasn't mentioned before. The rules now stated that the government had full control over every child in the country from the ages of 3 to 18. The parents no longer had any say over any major decisions in the childs life, such as whether they went to university, what subjects they studied, whether they moved or not. The government could also, without reason, take the child away from their parents completely, meaning they would live with a government employed 'carer'. \n\nThere was uproar. Parents became terrified of losing their children and tried to flee the country. But the government blocked any permanent moves and only holidays were permitted. Parents tried to go back on their votes; petitions were signed to try and override the original referendum, but the government did not budge. There were multiple protests but nothing changed. Nothing the parents did could change the fact that they had voted for this. \n\nIts now five years later. Most of the children have gotten used to the new system and embrace it. The parents however, are still scared. I don't have children myself and I'm glad I don't. I know of one person who lost her child to the government. One day he just didn't come home, and she got a letter a few days later explaining that he was in the custody of a carer. She hasn't seen him for two years now. The rest of the parents I know regret their choice to vote yes very deeply. They barely see their children, and most children these days barely know their parents. \n\nI do wonder often if it will ever change. However I do think this is the new normal. I'm not sure how most parents would cope if they had to look after their children again. It's sad when I think about it, but there's nothing I can do. "
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"1487689260",
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[removed] | [WP] You are a radio host and accidental time traveller from the 1930's | 1 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\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 be a recipe](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/prompts?src=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/5vi4dc/wp_you_are_a_radio_host_and_accidental_time/%0A%0A)"
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"1487762169",
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[WP] "You know I've never been one to dance around the point, honey. You need to stop the necromancy." | 8 | [
"\n**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfil every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n---\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) [](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) [](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) [](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatroom)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"Look. We need to talk. \n\nI just want, before we start, to lay some ground-rules for the discussion. Like the counsellor said. \n\nWell, one good one would be that we should only talk about the main topic. No bringing up stuff from the past. \n\nYes, like my secretary.\n\nNothing happened. \n\nI've told you a thousand times. Nothing happened. \n\nThis is exactly what I mean! We're getting off topic. \n\nNo bringing up past events that aren't relevant to the discussion. Everything has to be properly relevant. No secretaries or mother-in-laws or Spanish holidays.\n\nAnd I won't talk about that guy at your gym.\n\nNo, I believe you. I'm just saying, one thing at a time. \n\nIs that okay?\n\nWell, anyway, I want to talk about you-know-what. \n\nYou know what I mean. \n\nThe necromancy. \n\nI'd like you to cut back on it. \n\nBecause it's wrong. \n\nIt's evil. So evil that those who meddle in it are damned irretrievably. \n\nSorry. Sorry, you're right. \n\nI feel...that it is wrong. When you commune with the dark powers and rip back the veil between this world and the shadowlands, I feel like you are doing something that... I feel is evil. \n\nI'm not saying it isn't fascinating. \n\nOr lucrative. \n\nNo, absolutely, it is both of those things. \n\nIt's just... there are other considerations.\n\nLike the whole \"evil\" thing. \n\nOf course it affects me. \"Until death do us part.\" We're a team.\n\nThat's not as funny as you think it is.\n\nNo, I'm serious. I don't want to come back as a zombie. \n\nOr a wraith. That actually sounds worse.\n\nNo, I don't want you to explain the difference. That's not important right now. \n\nLook, it does affect me. And it affects the kids. And it affects you. \n\nIt's caused all kinds of problems!\n\nHow about the time where we had to hide in the attic for a week because you unleashed the ravenous hordes of the dead on the village?\n\nI had to shoot the grocer in the face. Yes, it was that bad. \n\nOr the way we don't go to church anymore.\n\nYes, we have been busy, but that's not the real reason, is it?\n\nCome on. \n\nThe real reason is that you can't enter hallowed ground.\n\nIt's kind of obvious. Last time you tried, you just started screaming.\n\nAnd then you caught fire.\n\nAnd then an angel with a fiery sword banished us to the wilderness.\n\nWe had to walk back. Emmy missed a month and a half of school. \n\nWell, I agree that school's not the only way to learn, but she didn't learn much on the journey back, did she?\n\nAnd just how useful is her knowledge of scorpion venom now we're back in Surrey?\n\nOh, what about the homunculus?\n\nYou know exactly what I mean.\n\nYou created life from a rag, a bone, and a hank of hair. \n\nI had to wear a cap for two weeks. \n\nIt lived in the garage, and ate the neighbour's cat. \n\nPersonally, I think it was what caused the postman's heart attack.\n\nHe was twenty-three. Not exactly in the danger zone. \n\nThat's not the point. The point is that your attempt to usurp God's creative power led to a huge problem. \n\nUnrestricted growth leading to it crushing the garage and climbing a skyscraper counts as a huge problem, yes. \n\nThis is not the fault of my movie collection. Emmy's seen it, and she didn't have to get shot down by biplanes. \n\nCan we agree that that experiment didn't go so well? Right?\n\nOkay, now we're getting somewhere. \n\nWhat about the well of souls that opened up in the garden, from which the screams of the damned echo continually.\n\nYes, I did talk about building a water feature, but that's not what I meant. \n\nI thought more \"goldfish\" than \"the tormented shade of my great aunt\", but maybe I'm too \"close-minded\".\n\nYes, I heard you talking to Karen. Yes, it hurt my feelings. \n\nI don't think there's anything close-minded about believing that the dead should stay that way. \n\nWhat if we look at it from another angle. Has anything good come from the necromancy?\n\nWe got an extra week with her, and then she dissolved. I mean, I appreciated that chance to say goodbye, but the dry cleaners apparently charge extra to remove ectoplasm. It was very expensive. \n\nYou do not get to claim the dog as a positive! \n\nOf course Emmy loves it. She's eight. She's always wanted a puppy. We could get her a psychopathic pit-bull/crocodile cross, and she'd think it was cute. \n\nBecause it's not really a King Charles spaniel, is it?\n\nOh please. I'm not an idiot. \n\nIt's your dark master in the form of a hound. \n\nIt's even a cliché. Everyone knows that black dogs are evil.\n\nIt normally is a stereotype, yes. Except in this case, because that one actually is the devil.\n\nIt speaks with a human voice.\n\nIt ate the neighbour's new cat. \n\nI walked into your summoning room without knocking and it was seated on a throne of skulls. They were bleeding.\n\nHow do you even do that? Make a skull bleed? And why?\n\nActually, don't tell me. \n\nLook, I think I've made my point clear. The necromancy has to stop.\n\nBecause it's bad for you, and for our family, and for our relationship.\n\nI'm looking out for us, darling. That's what I'm trying to do. \n\nNo, my secretary doesn't do necromancy. That doesn't mean I'm going to run off with her. \n\nBecause I love you, okay? Even when you commit unforgivable sins and acts that violate nature.\n\nI never stopped loving you. I never will. \n\nNo more necromancy? \n\nOkay. I love you. Thank you. \n\nHey, at least you aren't one of those necromancers who binds their soul eternally to evil, right? You won't get dragged into hell by spiked skeletons if you quit or anything. See, there's a bright side. \n\nOh. Shit. "
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