Split (1)

train · 265k rows

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
	[WP] You wake up one morning and your pet has turned into a human, but has kept its ways and habits.	1	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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'll pee wherever I want, Richard. If you want to stop me, then I want you to call me a good boy and give me treats. Afterwards, I want you to take me to the park.\" Adolf walked up to the lamp to chew on the wire then returned to his sitting position. \n\nRichard raised Adolf since he was a puppy, after so many years of bonding he never thought the bondage would reach this level, his eyes couldn't believe what they were seeing, Adolf, the most wonderful pug had been transformed.\n\n\"Richard, you're being stupid again.\" \n\nAfter a moment of silence Adolf stood there in declaration. The master's eyes met with the newly evolved human, raising his voice, Richard commanded what was once a beautiful pug to sit.\n\nAdolf declines, Richard runs toward him and instinctively trying to grab his fur, his hands slide across Adolf's questionably smooth skin\n\n\"Sit.\" Richard says.\n\n\"I decline.\" Adolf rebels.\n\n\"Adolf\" Richard said raising his voice even higher, \"I command you to sit!\"\n\nThere was nothing the master could do, so he rebelled against the rebellious dictatorship. \"I'm kicking you out Adolf\" \n\nAdolf sat in silence then gazed towards my eyes. \"Not if I kick you out first!\" He ran towards Richard, jumping on his chest and knocking Richard over with the force of a thousand pugs. \"Ado-\"\n\nRichard couldn't stand it any longer, so the man released his pent up testosterone bolting towards the door, entering the master room where he met his wife. \"Sophia, you won't believe this.\" despite Sophia being in a deep sleep, she was already awake, and asked Richard why there was another man in the house. \n\n\"That's no man, it's a pug!\" \n\nSophia sighed intensely, shortly afterwards their conversation was interrupted by scratching upon the door. \"Richard.\" she said intensely. \"I'm not putting up with your sick kinks again. What, are you gonna put a leash on him and call him a good boy?\" Richard could no longer comprehend the situation\n\nThe door busted open, Adolf had figured out how to maneuver his new fingers. \"Richard, I command you to put the leash on me and call me a good boy, this is unacceptable.\" \n\n\"Fine.\" Richard said.\n\n\"Really?\" Sophia said sounding persuaded.\n\n\"What?\" Richard responded.\n\n\"Fine, I'll do it,\" She began taking off her clothes. \n\nAdolf was still standing at the door clueless to the situation.\n\nRichard stared in awe at his wife who was undressing herself. Sophia stared at Richard and said \"Fine, I'll do i-\"\n\nAdolf was sitting in the corner of the room staring directly into her eyes. It wasn't the infamous pose of a pug defecating, but the offensive odor being released. \n\n\"Is this really what you want?\" She meets Richard's eyes once more as she walked to the opposite corner of the room\"\n\nSophia grins at Richard as she began to mimic the pose of Adolf \"Two can play at this game.\"" ]	[ 1, 3 ]	[ "1500382526", "1500384188" ]
[removed]	[WP] You have finally had enough of being treated like a slave in your job so you quit. On your last day you want to exact petty revenge against your colleagues. What do you do?	1	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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\nResponses must be at least 30 words. Prompts that are likely to generate such responses are also not allowed. This is essentially a fill-in-the-blank, or you asked a question likely to generate a simple answer. Prompts should encourage a story or poem. \n\n\n\n---\n\nPlease refer to the [sidebar](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/about/sidebar) before posting. If you have any questions or concerns, please feel free to send us a [modmail.](https://www.reddit.com/message/compose?to=%2Fr%2FWritingPrompts&subject=Removed%20post&message=https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/6o1cql/wp_you_have_finally_had_enough_of_being_treated/%0A%0A)\n\nThis action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things." ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1500390646", "1500390714" ]
[deleted]	[WP] Describe a place using the same way you would in a poem (long, beautiful metaphors and imagery) but the place is a piece of shit	8	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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", "WARNING: this contains mentions of suicide, so don't read any further if you're sensitive to it. \n\n--------------\n\nThis place is a piece of shit. Why anyone would wish to come here, is unknown to all. The photos strung up on the board opposite the bed all show the same girl. All of the smiles are fake. There's a day-outline on there too, a day-outline from two years ago. The days are all faded by memory, yellowed by years past, corners ripped up from over-handling, but there nonetheless. Perhaps the girl was happier then, and that's why she kept it up. Perhaps she forgot about it, having been trapped in the depths of her mind, and that's why it persisted.\n\nA small postcard of a painting accompanies it. There's a black smudge. It's one of the galaxy. Strangely beautiful. It made her feel lonelier every single day, when she occupied the room. It pulled her into the vastness of the universe, the vastness of her uselessness. The uselessness of everyone, but she was conceited, and focused only on herself. \n\nJust below the board is a desk, with the drawers pulled out. They look as untidy and un-put-together as inverted pockets. Papers are pulled out at random. The edges of the drawers themselves have marks on them, likely because she pulled them out and banged them back in. In a fit of anger? Desperation? Fear? Was she searching for something? Was she banging along them, matching the banging on the bars of the cages in her mind? Papers are ripped too. Pulled apart like the two pieces of a broken heart, a broken brain. It's easy to spot where the hole-puncher sat in one the drawers. The spot is dust-free. The hole-puncher now sits on the bed, underneath a crack in the wall; the size of an index finger literally; the size of the grand canyon with how much pain it holds. \n\nThe picture is cracked too. It's hand-drawn, by her sister. The glass is positively shattered. Ironic, with the meaning it holds. The picture underneath is rumpled by the impact. It stares out to the rest of the shit-boat, betrayed that it's owner would ever harm it so. The other three remain unharmed, but the glass is speckled by blood, as innocently as if it were speckled with rainwater. \n\nThe bed, underneath the mess on the wall, is a mess in itself. The duvet and all are pulled off, violently rather, strewn unceremoniously on the floor. The bedsheets are half-off themselves. They expose the crease where her body once lay, capturing all the air in the world, curled up in sleep. Where her eyebrows were furrowed with nightmares, and relaxed with blank, dead sleep. She slept the same way every night. A teddy bear lays beside it. She never did outgrow that habit. The pillow is left haphazardly in the middle of it all. \n\nIt'd be more fitting if the room were narrated with a deep, foreboding bass. That way, there'd be something to eat up the silence. \n\nBut no.\n\nInstead, if one were to let the little voice in their head take over the narration, it'd start reading from the books on the floor. They were pulled off the shelves, again, in a fit of anger? Fear? Confusion? Was she searching for... something? The Hobbit. The Catcher in the Rye. Everything is Illuminated. Still Alice. All the Light We Cannot See. The Outsiders. A countless amount of others. She'd lived these stories, back a while. She read every word, drank each one up, digested it in her mind. The pages were her best friends, the only people that heard every little fucked-up piece of her, and hid them in their murky waters. Tears mark some pages, where the pain got too much.\n\nThen again, blood marks other places, where the pain got too much. \n\nJust a few moments before, she'd created this mess. She screamed while she did it. She didn't know why she was screaming. Occasionally, sobs punctuated the quivering soundtrack her voice made. Occasionally, a word or two or ten or maybe even fifty punctuated it too. Screams of \"why\", \"fuck\", \"just fucking die,\" \"I hate you.\" The words practically hang in the air. It feels like they're etched into the ceiling. Who she wanted to die, is unclear. Maybe it was herself, maybe it was voices only she heard. But they never found evidence of that. The fairy lights she had up are pulled down. Was she planning on repurposing them for a rope?\n\nThen he walked in. Well, they did. The neighbours had called the police, alarmed by all the noises. They'd barged into the house, stamped up the stairs, stared in wonder through the door. They stared in wonder at the sixteen year old girl, destroying everything she cared about. She'd even smashed her guitar. It was like a war zone. A girl versus her own demons. That's when it'd happened.\n\nShe'd stopped when she noticed them. Stared back. \n\n\"What? What the fuck do you want?\" her gruff voice asked.\n\n\"None. Of. You. Understand.\"\n\nAnd then she grabbed the gun, which was lying unnoticed on the desk, and made to shoot herself. Thankfully the leader of the crew leaped forward, angled the gun away from her head. The bullet only hit the back of her skull. No brain damage. A fuck ton of blood, but nothing really bad. \n\nAnd she fell.\n\nAnd she started sobbing.\n\nHe brought her up to his chest, let her hide her face in it. He was tearing up himself. Someone so young... Why? It'd be one thing if he did it. Nobody'd miss him. (Well they would, actually rather greatly, but he didn't pay attention to this for some odd reason.) But a kid? She'd barely seen life, and yet her she was, trying to kill it dead. \n\nThen her father barged in, with all of his six foot five self, and started crying too, and grabbed her, and brushed her bangs out her eyes. \n\nThey'd called him in.\n\nThe leader stared at the room afterwards, running a hand through his grey hair. At the fucking shit that this place was. The memories and thoughts were fucking disgusting.\n\n--------\n\nNot exactly what the prompt called for, but a good warm up for a different piece of writing. Thanks!", "It was as if the whole world was gathered in one place. The air in this place, thick with history, was unlike anything I'd dreamed of. Such forsaken beauty, such forgotten usefulness, abandoned like an unwanted child, now rotting all around me. I wondered what manner of stories, objects having lived a life of their own, I would find should I start digging. But I dare not. The literal disease that is old age rules beneath the surface, it oozes back into reality. This spoon for instance. This broken, now disintegrating, but strong, oaken spoon, was split in two by some force unknown to me. I cannot fathom all the mouths that were fed because of it. Or this tire, broken, ripped, exploded, has left its home behind. It was once part of many journeys into the unexplored world, yet now it lays here, exhausted. The fumes of history start creeping through the mask I regretfully have to wear in this place. It is time for me to leave again. Time to climb down this mountain of magnificent filth and unwantedness, only to come back later to see it all burned. In the end, this is the fate of every device, every tool, every object, even though they don't know it. One day, I too will burn. But until then, I will gladly come back here to watch what the world no longer misses. Until next time, my good old friend." ]	[ 1, 1, 2 ]	[ "1500396659", "1500420131", "1500401372" ]
	[WP] You're a lawyer whose died and gone to hell, only to find out that heaven is carefree, and hell is run like a business firm. The devil introduces himself calmly and awkwardly, wearing near-sighted glasses and a one-piece suit, as he prepares to file a claim for the Apocalypse.	1	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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? Where am I?” I asked no one in particular. I felt like I had the one the worst hangovers of my life. I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples trying to get some clarity. When I opened my eyes again I saw a figure walking towards me. He was an elderly man but his movements were still youthful. He had a full head of thick white hair brushed back and out of his face revealing eyes that appeared a little too small, almost beady in appearance but piercing and blue. He had a rather long hook like nose with thin lips encircled by a white goatee. He wore a charcoal grey suit that was tailored perfectly and filled out what appeared to be a thin frame. Overall he had the appearance of a rather large bird really, something like a hawk. \n\nAs he approached me he extended a large thin fingered hand with fingernails that were much too long reminding me of talons. “You must be our new resident lawyer.” He said his voice more quiet and less confident sounding than what I’d imagined. “Where the Hell am I?” I asked, still confused and feeling groggy. “Ah… that’s exactly where you are. You’re in hell. You were supposed to get an orientation brief upon arrival but apparently there was some miscommunication.” He responded sounding slightly irritated at the situation. What did he just say? I looked around for the first time. It must’ve of just been a bad joke because this place certainly didn’t look like hell. There was no ring of fire or screaming tortured souls. It just looked like any other office I’d ever been in. In front of me there was a reception desk with a woman that looked to be in her fifties typing away at a computer and beyond her was just rows of boring grey cubicles. Maybe by Hell he meant corporate America. \n\nI chuckled at my own stupid joke as I asked again, “No seriously, where am I and how did I get here?” “Seriously, this is Hell and you got here via a car accident. You’d been speeding on your way to an important meeting when your phone rang and you got distracted. On the bright side you only killed yourself.” As he formed the words of his sentence it all came rushing back to me in an instant. I had crossed over my lane into oncoming traffic and then over corrected when I looked up. No this couldn’t be, I had to be having a nightmare or something. I started pinching and slapping myself trying to wake up as I did this the old man let out a soft chuckle. “There’s no point Richard. You’re as dead as a doornail.”\n\nAlright I decided I could play along, for now at least. “Sorry I’m so confused this isn’t exactly what I pictured Hell to be like. No screams of anguish or anything like that. What exactly is going on here?” “Well I’m glad you asked that. All the stories you’ve heard your entire life are all wrong. The big guy upstairs just put them in that little book of his to try and help encourage people to live the ‘right’ way, or at least what he thinks is the right way. That being said this place isn’t all fun and games, it’s just not all bad.” “Ok but how do I fit in exactly?”\n\n“Well we’re in desperate need of a new lawyer Richard. I’m sure you’ve heard how popular lawyers are around here. The problem is that once they realize they’re in hell the tend to not be very useful. They seem to think that if the help little old Lucy out they’ll somehow look worse to the big man. Now I could do some of that horrible stuff you’ve heard about and make them work for me but I’m the devil and I fully support free will. I mean without free will mankind never would’ve suffered through the fall in the first place. It’s one of my favorite things and I don’t like to muck it up. So I’ve been trying to find someone that would work willingly with me and it’s been a bit of a hassle.” \n\n“Why should I do any differently? I mean why exactly should I help you, and what is it you’re trying to do?” “I’m trying to file a claim against the big man’s apocalypse.” “I don’t understand. I thought you were going to bring about the apocalypse or your son or something like that.” “Ah yes that’s a common misconception, especially among nonreligious folks. What’s actually going to happen according to what I’ve read, and I have read quite extensively, is that God is going to bring about the end of the world. He will have his people spread his word all throughout the world to warn people. Of course I’m sure very few people will actually listen I mean have you heard the things religious people say? The sound ludicrous. Anyway after all that mister all loving himself will cause international warfare, famine, and disease. He’ll do all this so that he can destroy wicked people who love money and pretty much everything else that’s great in the world except for God.”\n\n“I you ask me it sounds like the only thing this all loving God loves is himself. Aren’t you excited about all the wars and famines though? I’d think that would be your bread and butter.”\n\n“Oh I live for those things, truly I do. The problem is the purpose they’re serving. He wants to destroy the people I enjoy the most, lovers of money and self, people that love pleasure more than any goodness. Those are my people doing my work I can’t have him getting rid of all of them and making a new heaven and earth for all the ‘good’ people. There wouldn’t be any fun in it for me.” \n\n“Speaking of what’s fun for you you still haven’t answered what’s in this for me.” “Well you know what I was just saying about pleasure, how those people are my people? If you help me with this I can provide you with any of the pleasures you could possibly imagine. I can give you sex, money, power all of it.” “That all sounds pretty great but it still feels like I would be better off going to this new heaven and earth.”\n\n“Listen the new heaven and earth will be great I’m not going to lie to you. There will be endless singing and dancing and all that good stuff I’m sure but I know that none of that is going to motivate you. I know that no amount of money or power will motivate you either. You see I know what it is that made you one of the best lawyers in the world while you were alive.” “Oh do you? Enlighten me please?” “It was always competition. You could never stand to lose. It was never about who was right or who was wrong or justice or any of that crap. It was always about winning. Always.” I’d never really thought about it like that but he did make a fair point. “Of course I understand if you want to be on the other side. If you’re not feeling up to the challenge you’re free to walk away. Like I said I don’t like to mess with free will.”\n\nI looked at his small hawk eyes a smile spreading across my face, “When can I start?” I asked feeling confident like never before. \n" ]	[ 1, 2 ]	[ "1500398579", "1500408737" ]
	[WP] Armageddon has begun. Not with fire and brimstone but simply by Google and it's affiliates removing themselves from the internet.	10	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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 long ago, as the human population increased, Armageddon, the hidden war, began as an effort by the few in positions of power to control the many and forestall future challenges to their power. This was not to be a war being fought with conventional weapons carried or controlled by the hand of man but a war fought by an idea: \n\nUse the basic human instincts of fear and need and greed as a power tool with which to manipulate and/or control the mindset and, therefore, the actions of most of the population. \n\nAs word of the initial efforts spread to communities over which their original conspirators had no power, those in positions of power in such communities often launched their own competing efforts.\n\nToday, we know these diverse efforts as religion: a man made power tool fueled by fear and need and greed. Throughout much of recorded human history, including even now, the conspirators have used that power tool to divide and conquer and to make meek much of the human populace, professing to eschew greed while enticing those with the least reward for their labor to await reward for their labor on earth in some mythical afterlife including by diverting attention away from their own avarice with disputes over \"moral\" issues.\n\nBefore more modern communication and transportation -- back when churches and temples and mosques were the only acceptable places for socializing in most communities, especially the smaller ones -- controlling the carrot/stick message of religion was relatively easy on localized levels of ever expanding size. \n\nThen the internet was born and became widely available on a global scale. The internet appeared, albeit briefly, poised to reverse generation after generation of indoctronation and brainwashing of children into communities where the blind faith obedience message of the conspirators prevailed. The entrenched power of the powerful, having grown exponentially with each generation (as it still does), however, enabled the loosely aligned leadership of the hidden war to overtake any movement toward the self rule of humanity, oft referred to as democracy, by utilizing the power of their wealth to pervert any movements toward rule of and by and for \"we, the people\" and begin to pit the masses against one another using the competing ideas promulgated by the conspirators that have survived and most thrived -- ideas which so adamantly proclaim each is the ONE right way to believe and live that a global war with weapons now seems inevitable -- a self fulfilling prophecy of Armageddon.\n\nDespite some setbacks, including in the more modern era -- the last half century in no small part due to communications advances -- those leading this hidden global war, being the greediest of the wealthiest of the investor class soon co-opted and controlled that media as they lay claim to the governments that control it. Not, however, before a few of the players in the internet community, Google via YouTube among them, had enlightened enough people and raised enough questions to make the task of the co-conspirators more difficult than ever. Via education of the masses, there remains some small hope the conspirators will be exposed and stopped in time to prevent the secret war from become global nuclear war. \n\nKnowledge is now power but that knowledge must spread and be acted upon now. With every advance in \"security\" and weapons tech, it becomes ever more difficult for the many to overthrow the few -- the greediest of the wealthiest among us* -- in control of most of the wealth of the world and the governments that control that tech.\n\nWith plans for independent satellite internet, not controlled by the governments controlled by the conspirators of Armageddon, some players creating a competing, unbiased and uncensored internet, may well be the best hope for the masses of humanity to prevail over the vile plans for global domination of the conspirators. Go Google.\n\n https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i3WhLcTs_00 \n\n", "\"There. It's done.\" Sundar Pichai leaned back from the console, tears in his eyes. He pulled his glasses and wiped them off. \"Let them go. Please, let them go.\" He begged.\n\nTwo darkly dressed figures stood across from him. One held a laptop, furiously typing out a message to their affiliates. The other held a pistol, trained on Pichai. \"We'll wait until the shutdown is confirmed, thank you very much.\" The gunman flicked his pistol. \"Get away from the keyboard, please.\"\n\nSundar Pichai pushed his swivel away from his console. The monitor was starting to feed data from the crash. Businesses lost key advertising avenues and revenue streams. Small-startups went from fifty hits an hour to two, all through backwoods forums and the occasional pornhub comment espousing the necessity of silk oven mitts.\n\nCars began to crash and burn as drivers mucked about with Googlemaps. Uber and Lyft lost all of their map data in one fell swoop. Kids lost tracking data for their science experiments carried out through GEarth. Game shows could not air their episodes as they could not find the average annual rainfall in the Amazon.\n\nOne by one, massive data-centers connected to NASA, NSA, FBI, CIA and Pornhub began to crash as request after request was denied. \n\n\"Why!? Why are you doing this!!\" Sundar Pichai screamed. \"We provide an essential service! We are the biggest data mine the world has ever seen. Why would you kill it!?\"\n\nThe figure with the laptop sighed. \"Sundar, you know as well as anyone that when a company 'fails', their market is suddenly open for the taking. Google has had its run.\" The figure tapped a few more keys. \"Now, it's our turn.\"\n\nThe figure pressed enter, and a loud bing rang through the office.\n\n" ]	[ 1, 1, 6 ]	[ "1500402022", "1500404785", "1500403338" ]
	[WP] Your bank heist goes terribly wrong when you realize every single person there is also attempting to rob the bank.	886	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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", "\"Alright! Nobody f**** move!\"\n\nI'd practiced this line in front of my bathroom mirror dozens of times. Swapping of course between that and a few quotes from the movie \"Taxi\". The goal was to be intimidating! It's a little difficult when you're 135 pounds soaking wet though.\n\nWhile working for a small tech support company, I received little pay and even less respect. I always considered going postal on my office just to relieve some of this pent up hatred, but there is of course prison, where I would be raped, murdered, or raped and then murdered. So putting those thoughts aside, I went along with my plain boring life...until I got \"the news\".\n\nMy parents were both killed in a motor vehicle accident when I was seven so my grandfather took me in and raised me. He always treated me well and taught me what a great man should be like. I always looked up to him as a role model and as my parent. So when I found out that he was fired five months before he was supposed to retire from his bank job, I was livid!\n\nI was ranting to the few friends I have about the whole ordeal when my buddy Steve says jokingly, \"Why don't you just rob the bank? Hah!\" We all laughed off the comment, but I was up all night dwelling on it. When I woke up I knew this shit was gonna happen. I immediately phoned Steve and made my thoughts into reality, \"I'm gonna rob that f** bank, Steve. Are you in or out?\"\n\n\"Dude, I'm not even awake yet. Can we rob the bank after I get some coffee and maybe a bowl of Frosted Flakes?\" From that comment alone, you can guess the kind of guy Steve is. \"I'm serious, Steve!\" I said, shouting into the mic. \"I'm gonna do it man. It's my destiny or whatever! Just get your ass over here so we can plan this shit out!\"\n\nThe next several hours were spent with Steve cracking jokes at me, then trying to convince me that I was making a huge mistake, then somehow planning a heist with me. We spent weeks scouting and making notes on everything about this bank, and we had definitely planned everything to the most minute detail, or so we thought...\n\nIt was the day of the heist and my nerves were shot, but I felt ready. I was standing in line at the teller with my sunglasses, ball cap, reverseable jacket, and a bandana around my neck. The clock on the wall was 5 seconds to hitting 3 o'clock. I pulled up my bandana to cover my mouth and reached into my jacket, whipping out two automatic pistols I had purchased over the dark web. Now it was the moment I had rehearsed for over and over in my head and in my bathroom. Now it was my time to shine!\n\n\"Alright! Nobody f** move!\"\n\nI felt like such a badass for about half a second, before it clicked that the other eight people in line had just done the exact same thing and even echoed my line! That was my line! I'd practiced it to perfection, and not to brag or anything, but I seriously nailed it! Not only that, but I planned this little operation for five weeks. How did all this chaos slip by me? \n\nAs a stampede of mixed emotions and thoughts go through my head, Steve whispers in my ear from behind, \"Sorry bro, I told my girlfriend what we've been up to. She knew something was going on and if I lied and said I was cheating on her or something to cover for us, she'd have cut my dick off! That chick is crazy scary, man, and my dick is my best feature!\"\n\nIn the end, I guess it could have gone worse. I didn't end up in prison and the heist was a success, because as Steve stated, his girlfriend is crazy scary! ", "A classic, albeit racist, Mexican stand off has roughly 3 to 4 people pointing their guns at each others. \n\nMy case however, is something completely different. My crew; Jokeman, Looper and Dasil (please don't ask why), and I were to rob the biggest bank in North America, Freedoms Bank. \n\nThe plan was to go in and out in less than 5 seconds. In retrospect, that is probably impossible to do but we were pretty drunk so it wasn't a problem. Looper was our getaways guy who would pick us up in a white van disguised as an ice cream van in the park nearby. \n\nThe plan sounded and was going great right until Jokeman and I knocked down the front door.\n\n\"This is a robbery, I need everybody to stay calm and act like rational adult\" I said as I walked through the front door.\n\nThere were four seperate lines to the counters with roughly 5 people on each lines. They stared at my silently with their hands up in the air.\n\nJokeman ran straight up to the lady running the first counter. \"Gim'e alle ze mooney swetcheek anz mak iz fat\" he demanded.\n\nThe lady on the counter was stunned, and I couldn't tell whether because she was scared of the gun Jokeman was pointing at her or the stupidity that came out of his mouth, but before I knew it, the man behind him had shoved the barrel of his tech-9 into Jokeman's back.\n\n\"Stop, what do you think you're doing dumbass? I said act like rational adults!\" I pointed my m9 at him. \n\n\"Look bud,\" the man replied, \"I've been standing in line for 20 mins to rob this bank, you can't just walk in here and cut the damn line\"\n\n\"Who the hell wait in line to rob a bank?\"\n\n\"Professionals! We're all doing it!\" he pointed at the woman behind him. \n\nThe woman quickly turned around and pointed her sawed-off shotgun at me.\n\n\"Look hun,\" she said in a quasi seductive voice, \"If you're gonna rob the bank, at least stand in line like the rest of us. We all got a place to be you know.\"\n\nEverybody in line then quickly pulled out their gun and pointed them at me. \n\n\"Whoa whoa whoa, You all better stop pointing them guns at me of you know whats good for ya. My man Dasil got a sniper rifle locked in this place and let me tell ya. He never miss.\"\n\n\"Yeah? So is my counter sniper, Snipe. He can take down your Dasil in a heartbeat.\" the woman replied.\n\nSo that's where we are right now. Jokeman got a tech-9 up his butt, Dasil is getting counter sniped and I got 19 peoples pointing their guns on at me.\n\nI drop my gun and raised my hands up in the air \"okay okay, I gives up. Let Jokeman go and we'll leave you to your robbing business\".\n\nEverybody in the bank quickly lowered their guns. \n\n\"Glad we can come up with a quick solution. Now get in line or leave.\"\n\nJokeman and I walked out of the bank defeated. I called down Dasil to meet up in the ice cream truck in the park and ate some defeat ice cream to cheer myself up before calling the police of the on going professional robbery in the bank.\n\n\n\n\n", "Saturday. My favourite day. I get to hit a bank without the gangs constant bickering and bitching holding me back. I scoped this place out over the past few weeks, small number of guards (2 max out front) and one teller. Quick and easy, like breaking out into a sweat while running (note to self: gotta hit the tracks, get training again). Putting my personal hand-knitted ski mask (no my ma didn't make it asshole), I whipped a small gun, a pistol, from my back pocket. \n\n\"Freeze! Everyone drop on the ground and don't fuckin' move.\" Yeah. That's what I'm gonna scream when I walk in. And so I do. \"Fffreezee!... Eeeevryone drop on the... Floor! Yeah! Floor!\" The fucks going on? To my left, straight inside, by the door.. I see that damn rookie in the gang... Ricky or something. The hell is he doing in my bank?! I decided to confront the fucker.\n\nThe kid had no mask on, wearing a Hawaii shirt and floral shorts and stranded out like a hotdog in a popsicle stand. He had one of our gangs rifles and was staring at the guards, who had relinquished their arms. I calmly ask him what's up. \"The fuck you doing here on my ground you idiot!\" He turns to me. Poor kid was shaking in his boots. His legs were quivering like jelly and the vibrations from his jerky movements as he swung at me knocked over a little statue. \"Brains?\" He looked at me. Damn kid reminded me of a damaged video tape... hopping and skipping about. \"Hey, Brains, why are you here?\" \"Leopard?\" \"Kid?\" \"Lenny!\" \"Christ, it's Christie how've you been?\" I couldn't believe it.... the gang was inside. They were the few people lining up for the bank. Thought they were other nameless faceless men and women. Fuck it anyway.\n\n\"Guys look we only got a few minutes left we should.. \" \"Shut yer pie hole Christie and I were...\" \"Woah we gotta be professional about this guys!\" \"Lenny! Howz da kids doin' ?\" I sighed and looked around. Walking past the group of second rate thieves, people who asked to join me cos of my rep, I realised how much I missed my days of hunting alone. I'm a man in my prime yknow? I just wanted one lil job to hit up some dosh and settle down for a week or two, or however long it takes to spend. Not asking for a miracle here or nothing.\n\n I hopped over the main counter, aimed my gun at the guards, who were shitting themselves at the sight of robbers all arguing with each other ( whether laughing at them or in fear, I'll never know). Anywho, I point my gun at the receptionist. \"Hey...\", I looked at his nametag, \"James huh? Get this open for me? I'm a nice ol' guy. You'll be grand if ye let me take a grand, eh?\" He nods in agreement and opens up that lid off the delicious tin of beans sitting in front of me. He brings it out for me in beautiful, voluptuous brown bags and I chuckled momentarily. 'Course in a stupid situation like this, with a bunch of nobodies arguing about some money in a shitty bank, I'd be going home with money in bags to rival Scrooge Mc- 'fuckin'- Duck. I pick up the bags (carefully managing to do so with one hand- I'm a damn legend at this). The others see me leaving.\n\nLenny walks over to me. \"C'mon man let's be legit 'bout this? We helped too.\" I scoffed, \"Even though this was my day AWAY from you chumps?\" Christie, the only one with potential in the group (and a mom of four great kids: she may be evil but she ain't letting her kids go down the wrong tracks; I really respect her excellent parenting), sighs and looks away, \"The guys where worried you were to old to do another job on your own.\" I glare at em. \"Sure, just cos I did some time in the hospital after that accident ye wanna take care of yer boss huh?\" They looked at me apologetically. Fuck em. I already said I'd go back running. Yeah. I ain't retiring. \"Where's Donnie?\" They look at me again with Leopard (stupid fuckin codename if ye ask me) growling at me like a fucking cheetah or something, \"He died sir, remember? He died two years ago?\" I opened a dusty door in my mind and nodded. Yup he did die. Shit... Maybe I'm going senile? We were interrupted by Lenny. \"Hey guys how're we splitting this\" \"Shaddap Lenny.\"\n\nI told Lenny to shut up, but, it sounded like someone else was echoing me. Turning to the others, I see them staring behind me. I turn slowly to see Officer Doherty and his band of fucksticks looking at us. \"You guys know what's up! Pass the cash!\"\n\nAnd that's how an old con man and his gang of shitty thieves got robbed by the fucking police. \n \n ******\nThe bank teller looked at Mr. Maguire, both in awe and worry. \"Why did you tell me this story sir?\" \"Cos I'm bout to pop a cap in yer ass if ye don't pass me my Scrooge McDuck bags you damn fool.\" \n\"We can give you bags like these for free if you sign up for this money saving scheme.. yadda yadda..etc...\" Maguire stood still for a moment. The teller was worried he had passed away, his old eyes looking as lifeless as they had being even as he told him of his planned holiday with his favourite grandchildren, Lenny and Christie. Maguire moved suddenly, and smiled. \"Where do I sign?\"\n\n ******\nAnd that is the story of how a twisted sick banker took advantage of a delusional old man by signing him onto a scheme that siphoned the remaining funds of said senior citizens pension and provided another month towards the life span of this corrupt bank. The bank screwed the robber this time folks. Poor guy planned to take his grandkids somewhere nice for a week or two.", "Pablo hadn't done anything so reckless in his life, but he couldn't bare to leave his daughter and wife across the border anymore. He buttoned his checkered shirt to his adam apple and looked over the small .44 snub nose that diablo had given him on loan. he placed it in the small deposit bag along with his Mothers spare stockings and headed from the car.\n\nThe walk was hard, every step made his heart skip a beat. His palms were sweaty knees weak, and everything just seemed to itch. He really wished he hadn't eaten that extra burrito his Mother made there was potential for it to end up on his favorite shirt. He made his way through the rotating doors and studied his surroundings almost instantly.\n\nThe bank was almost empty only a few random people stood at the tills waiting for their turn. An elderly lady who seemed almost half blind being guided by who was potentially her son. He couldn't grab her as a hostage, and the son was far to large. he reevaluated the situation, he looked over at the old security guard seemed to be half asleep. His chair was positioned close enough to the desk they he could grab him. awesome* he thought to himself as he got into line.\n\nHe stared at the clock, second after second ticked on but it seemed like almost an hour until he finally was waiting out the mouth like a log in a river waiting to fly out. \"HANDS IN THE AIR\" a voice yelled from behind. Pablo tilted his head to turn around but before he could an arm was wrapped around his neck.\n\nThe masked man began to pull him backwards as another ran infront presenting a shotgun. The attendant raised her hands and looked around the room in panic. The masked man threw a bag in her direction, \"Fill it bitch\". she went wild filling the bag up with money. Pablo couldn't let this pass, he was meant to be filling that bag. HE WAS MEANT T... before he could finish his thought the Elderly lady and her son pulled guns from there bags. The old lady fashioned an UZI with a large silencer while her son had an AK74u and seemed to wield it with military finesse. The two masked men changed their sights pointing at the other two. Pablo threw his elbow backwards hitting his holder in the rib making him let him go. Pablo raised forward removing the Snub Nose from his bag and dropping it down, he moved to the side of the Elderly lady with no idea who they were but it was his best option.\n\n\"Guns down boys.\" the lady had an oddly harsh voice and her hands were strangely steady. The other two men lowered their guns and placed them on the ground \"Who are you cops?\" the one man asked as he began to stand with his hands up. A shot to the chest answered his question the Elderly Lady and her son unloaded on the two and dropped them to the ground. The clerks screamed as they ran for the security button. \n\nThe Elderly lady changed her aim and began shooting at the bulletproof glass. \"Fuck\" she yelled a mans voice pulling through. The two shared words in russian and began heading for the door. Pablo watched as they ran and turned his head back to the desk, the bag the others had placed on the counter was heavier then when they left it. Pablo walked over casually grabbing the bag from the counter. He walked into the parking lot, once he did he watched as the truck roared by a nearby parking lot followed by a dozen cop cars. Pablo got into his truck and turned it over. He opened the zip showing a large amount of stacks, he finally had enough to bring his wife and daughter into the country.", "Thanks for the prompt. Had a lot of fun with this one\n--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\nWas it the man leaning on the pillars? The woman signing checks? She had spent quite an odd time at the table? Or the older gentlemen talking to the agent? They both seemed like good candidates. Goddamn it. What was he even doing here?\n\nRodger rarely smoked, but the had hoped that the cig would still his nerves. Instead, his heart raced just as fast only now he had that lingering pungent odor flooding his nose, like a fly frantically trying to break out his skull. The whole thing made him sick.\n\nThe message had said be there at 10 sharp. Little else besides that. You will be able to tell who I am. Fat chance of that by the looks of the lobby everyone was here to rob the place, or wary of anyone who might try. Could they be undercover? Is this a setup?\n\nNormally a job like this would not even be on his radar. The bank was too big, especially for a two person job. It was packed. Six exits. Cameras covered every inch of the floor. But worst of all was the location. They had 3 minutes and 40 seconds to clear the place and leave before the cops got here. Four blocks away. What was in his head?\n\nOne more glance at his watch. He made the movement as jarring as possible, quick and clumsy. Hopefully he could get some kind of reaction from his mysterious employer. Let me do the talking. Those were the orders. Nothing. \n\n10:04 came sharp and quickly dulled.\n\t\nDid he need the money bad enough to risk this? As if to answer him the security guard walked to the center of the room close to the check counter. That damn woman was still there transcribing her memoirs. The guard scanning the room was all he needed. As he moved to the door he felt the guard's gaze drilling into him. No piece of paper was worth this, regardless of which president's face was plastered on it.\n\nThen came a sound.\n\nThe familiar rustle of ceramic and metal being raised. He thought he heard the click of the safety being turned off, but his heart jumped so much he wouldn't be surprised if it was the crack of one of his ribs. \n\nAs he gripped the handle the shout echo through the room. From his partner or the guard he couldn’t tell. So close to the exit. But if it was the guard and he tried to force his way out… the fly in his head would have no trouble finding an exit. His only real hope was that his partner had drawn the gun, or was at the ready to do so. Either way he knew his best chance.\n\nHis hand slipped from the handle and down to his waist. One swift motion and the glock was in his hand. He fell down a knee to throw off any possible aims trained on him. As went down he pivoted and took in the chamber he was so close to escaping. \n\t\nNot what he was expecting in slightest.\n\nAs he expected the guard was the one to pull the firearm, but no sights were on him. In fact he was the one with a clear fix on the guard's back now. Do I take him out now? This was supposed to be a no-kill job but he knew that was a stretch given the size of the building. An even stranger thought was worming its way through the back of his head, was this his partner?\n\nAt that point it seems Jane Austen finished her novel. In a flash she flicked open the buttons on her bag and pulled a gun of her own out. As if she had opened the floodgates, every person in the room seemed to draw one type of a weapon or another.\n\t\nWhat the fuck was going on?\n\t\nHe swiveled like a sprinkler trying to keep them all in his line of sight. It they were just as confused as he was, barrels traveling from person to person and back like fifty tennis matches happening consecutively. Utter confusion, but oddly not a round had been fired nor a body sent to the floor. And the quiet… the guns in each person's hands were more likely to speak than their owners. After a moment the initial shock of the wave of lead had worn off.\n\nSo they were all in on it huh? No one spoke a word, but the group descended on the cashier’s counter like phantoms. Poor bastard, at least if it were ghosts a good amount of therapy could solve that. Even if they are walking, it is always better to see another’s death rather than have your own shoved in your face. Twelve times.\n\nClearly the boss had chosen experts. Security lines cut, registers cleaned, and vaults opened in seconds. Rodger couldn’t help but to keep his eyes on his new partners. A group this skilled comes with the wile picked up in years of experience. Beyond that, something just didn’t seem right. But he couldn’t figure it out. Regardless, time rushed by them despite their competence. One minute down already.\n\nThey floated into the vault. Piles of bills flooded duffle bags. The lone sound of this much tender being packed, was a symphony he had never know he longed to hear. The bags were brought the center of the room. At 2 minutes and 40 seconds, it was time to leave. Like clockwork, each person picked up two bags and threw them over their shoulders.\n\nHe put his moved his pistol back to his waist. Funny it was like he didn’t need. Actually he didn’t. Not in the slightest. His stomach entered free fall.\n\n Come armed. Why? If every person in the room was in on it, a gun hardly seems necessary. Hell, even the teller had opened the register before they even descended on him. The weapons only seemed to make it more risky. One twitch of a finger is all it would have taken. A clean heist becomes a bloodbath in seconds. \n\t\nHe slowly brought the gun the away from his waist. The change wasn’t too obvious, regardless was still noticed immediately. Instinctively, gun hands tensed. Shifty eyes were all one needed to see that the mood in the room changed. Why won’t anyone speak? Why can’t he speak? He wanted to tell them they should just leave but his throat tensed up. He picked up the slightest of movements from the group. His ears could hear the paint on the walls thinning. The smell of the cigarette was suffocating him and that goddamn fly was pounding on the walls of his skull.\nThe stood tense as this circle seemed to shrink. A gun fight like this ensured that almost none of them would walk. That’s what I get for signing on to a no-causality job; an all-causality one. As cold as it was he had to be the first the fire. By far and away he the smallest firepower of anyone here and had to make up for it with initiative and speed. His best shot was to kill the large man to his right and use his body for whatever cover he could. Hopefully in the storm of shrapnel he could-\n\n“ALL RIGHT, COME OUT OF THE BUILDING WITH YOUR HANDS UP” \n\nWhether the voice shook the building or him he couldn’t tell. Either his fellow robbers had also felt the tremors, or they all looked like they were in trouble. He flicked his eyes down to his watch. It had only been 3 minutes. There is just no way the police could make it here in time. He glanced at the group. Somehow the guard had disappeared! Was he not a part of the heist after all? He was still trying to piece together where things had gone wrong when the door open. The circle had thankfully put the suspicion behind them and turned their guns on whatever cop decided to be a hero. \n\nBut there was no one entering rather the group watched in awe as the teller, who had gotten around them in the standoff, was leaving out the front door with his hands above his head. With him went the only chances of a hostage situation and left two options.\n\n“GET OUT OF THE BUILDING THIS IS YOUR FINAL CHANCE”\n\nIt was fight it out and die, or wait it out and get killed. Not promising odds. He should have left when he had the chance. Even the fucking teller knew when it was time to leave. The pathetic teller who was so scared he opened the registers on his own. Too terrified to press the panic button. How the cops had known to come was still beyond him, but he supposed it didn’t matter anymore. The teller who was so busy pissing himself that… that he didn’t even beg for his life? There's just no way. That would be impossible. Yet…\n\nIt was his only chance. Let me do the talking. He holstered his weapon. Put the bags on his shoulders and walked to the door with his hands on his head. He could hear from the grunts and footsteps behind him that he was not alone on this march. He was either leading them to a payday or a wall of projectiles. Once again he placed his hands on the handle and walk through to the other side. \n\nThere was the guard motioning them to a singular SWAT van. He stepped in and took a seat near the front. Across from him was the teller who gave him a curt nod. Rodger wiped the sweat from his forehead. He could really use another smoke.\n", "I entered the bank, cap pulled down to hide my face from the cameras. \nThis would be easy enough. I would just go in, take the money, and leave. Like taking candy from a baby; a very large corporate baby. \nUpon entering, I noticed several people wearing outputs similar to my own. \"Okay\" I thought to myself, \"I guess blending in won't be an issue.\" As I surveyed the room, I noticed a very strange tinge in the air, it was very quiet for a mid-day bank full of people. \nI made my way over to the teller.\nI was about to pull out my gun when I heard a Velcro being ripped and a bang from behind me. \nNo. Fucking. Way.\nI turned around and saw one of the men with their cap pulled low like mine with a gun poised, finger twitching nervously. \"Nobody move!\" His whiny voice rang, \"this is a stick up.\" \nCould he be any more cliche. \nI rolled my eyes and pulled out my own gun.\nNot today buddy. \nThe man looked over at me, eyes wide. \"No you listen,\" I yelled, \"Put all the money in my bag! Or i'll be shooting something other than the ceiling.\" \nA woman near me shrieked and threw her body against her baby stroller. \nTypical.\nShe pulled the cover open, weeping. Then suddenly the woman gave a strange war cry.\nWhat.\nShe was cradling an ak-47 in her arms, pointing it around frantically. \"I need this money, no way are you boys going to get it, or i'll pump your bodies full of lead!\" \nWhile still in shock that the woman's baby was actually a gun, I heard the cash register being opened behind me and turned around. The alarm had been triggered. The teller's eyes were shaky. And, in his hand he clutched a very large brown bag, presumably full of money. \nDon't tell me...\nThe teller went behind the counter and made a dash for the exit. I realized that he too was robbing the place. \nWhen I turned back to the chaotic room, everyone had pulled out there gun.\nShit. \nEveryone was looking to rob the place. ", "\"It's payday fellas!\"\nI put the mask on, ready for panic. Instead, the rest of the \"civilians\" put on a mask. Even the tellars put one on! \"Wait, what?\" I said. \"EVERYONE GET THE FUCK DOWN\" said the guy with the american flag mask. I hastily told him \"Wait, wait! I'm robbing this bank, not you!\" He was extremely confused, this had never happened before! Shortly later, two other guards told us they are robbing the bank, nice fellas. Wolf and Chains, I think. One by one, each of them gets up and puts a mask on. There were about 20 heisters total, more or less.\nIn a little, we already have the safe drilling.\n\nRing ring! \"The phone is going off, someone get it!\" Chains said. I pick it up, and \"Hello, welcome to robberts bank, how can I help you?\" Some bloke demanded a money bag, or he calls the cops. Somewhere about over the gas station wall. We proceed to answer a few more calls (my favorite being the bloke who saw a movie and wanted her money moved to a bank that doesn't get robbed) We end up getting in the vault, and clearing it. \"Wait, that guy, we need to give him the money!\" Dallas exclaimed. \"Why not kill him?\" Chains said. The following words almost bursted my eardrums. \"Yea!\" yelled everyone! We try, but he escaped.\nWe end up each making about 1000 dollars in the end.", "I could hardly believe it. \n\nI was inside. \n\nEach towering marble column, every engraved dark walnut attendant's desk was laid out to bare before me, exactly according to plan. It's a strange thing, seeing years of hard work come to fruition. \n\nIt sorta made me emotional. \n\nThe bank was busy today. Plenty of witnesses. The tellers and the attendants whizzed through paperwork and sent their customers click clacking away. \n\nNo matter. It would only make today more interesting. My hands wrung with sweat in a bubbling sense of anticipation\n\nThe clock sat at 11:55. In just five minutes I would get the thrill of a lifetime. A rush to kill for. \n\nWhen the clock struck noon I nearly shouted with glee. Then, I looked over to the doors and watched, flabbergasted, as a woman marched through in a large hat and sunglasses. The way she waved her pistol made my heart skip a beat. \n\nFollowing her was a man in a green ski mask bearing an AK. They stood in the doorway together, staring dumbfounded into each other's eyes. \n\nA bank teller let out this blood curdling scream. I swear it could've shattered glass. My jaw nearly hit the floor. \n\nAbsolute, pure chaos broke out as the other customers joined in. I mean really joined in. With the heist. They pulled out weapons of all sorts. Hell, even a night stick. A few white collar men hadn't even bothered to cover their faces. The brazen nerve!\n\nNot a single teller had color left in their cheeks. They shivered, rooted to their chairs amid the hysteria.\n\n\"Yes sir, yes ma'am, please don't shoot,\" they muttered.\n\n\"Of course not, nobody would hurt a fly,\" I whispered sarcastically. \n\nThen, the alarm blared. Like a siren bringing forth a long awaited reckoning. A guy in a ski mask rushed over and barred the bank doors just as the police lights screamed around the corner. \n\nFor a brief moment, they all looked at each other. I recognized the betrayal that rippled behind their eyes. \n\nYes, I recognized that deep down to my very core. \n\nThen someone pointed at me. Or rather, my camera. I was sitting, perfectly safe, in the observation van parked a couple blocks away. \n\n\"Hello friends,\" I waved to the screen. \"How do you do?\"\n\nOver and over, they jabbed at my blinking cameras. I couldn't help but break into a massive smile. The wannabe bank robbers on my screen scrambled like a kicked anthill. Several fights broke out. Some tried to find escape out back. Of course, I'd covered all angles. There would be no escape. \n\nSave for those who earned it. \n\nAfter I let them sufficiently sweat, I pressed send on another mass text:\n\n>Game on. Payback's a bitch\n\nAnd I sat back to enjoy the show. \n\n__________________________\n\nr/writerscrywhiskey\n", "His fingers tremble as he enters the bank, automatic doors whooshing aside to let him in. On reflex, he scans the building, noting all security guards and customers and ... well. Clearly, no need for that. The only security guard seems to be sleeping at his post; a bored banker is staring at her screen blankly while typing; the teller is moving at an almost impossibly slow pace as he counts out money; and there are only two customers in the entire place.\n\n\nAs he joins the short line, he eyes the other people there. Less people means less chances of getting caught -- not that he would be caught -- but also less people to manipulate into doing the tedious work for him. Robbing a bank is really quite a job for one person, but he knows all the motions. Truly, it gets monotonous after a few times. \n\n\nThe line moves nowhere, and he finds himself reading the same advertisements for online banking and smartphone applications over and over as his displeasure grows. What sort of service is this? Must there really be but one person working the counters? They are in a city, for goodness' sake. After he finishes robbing the place, he should file a strong complaint with corporate. Yes, that's a good plan. Hopefully the horrifically slow teller -- who looks to be recounting the money now, of all things! -- would be fired, at the least. \n\n\nPerhaps if they treated their customers better and didn't keep them waiting in line, he thinks venomously, then they wouldn't be robbed. This is truly a waste of his time; he needs to move his plan up.\n\n\nStepping out of line, he shoves his way past the other customers, uncaring as one clutches his phone near his chest and the other looks ready to swing her briefcase into his face. But neither says a thing, because they see no threat. No one does.\n\n\nHow easy it is to be forgetful and forgivable when his face sags with wrinkles and his incessantly-trembling hand clutches a cane. The journey to the counter is a labor, and his feet do not step surely.\n\n\nHis younger self would have considered age a weakness.\n\n\nAh, but his younger self was a fool, in more ways than one.\n\n\nThe teller glances up as he approaches -- him, a frail old man with a desperate look on his face and a reaching, shaking hand.\n\n\n\"Please, your ... your bathroom?\" he croaks out. \n\n\n\"Uh, well, the bathroom is for staff only,\" the teller begins hesitantly, his eyes darting to the security guard.\n\n\nHe knows how this dialogue goes, but still, he finds himself wishing he was not doing this alone. Linda always did so much better at playing the helpless card. Everyone falls over themselves to help a young lady in need. Looking at an old man just gives them the disgust of knowing they'll be in his place in a few years.\n\n\n\"I'm sorry, young man,\" they always hate it when he calls them that, and annoyance makes one careless, \"but I am afraid that my diaper has--\"\n\n\n\"Just tell Eddy to let you through,\" the man hastily interrupts, gesturing to the sleeping guard.\n\n\nWhen he approaches, the guard barely mentions his presence, just buzzes open the door with a grunt. As the heavy door swings closed behind him, with eyes on his back, he tiredly shuffles forward.\n\n\nLike always. When did robbing a bank become boring? \n\n\nThis will be the last time, though. What use is all this money if he doesn't use it? He has all the time in the world -- retirement is nice. But nicer with someone to spend it with. Time means nothing without passion.\n\n\nWell, money is a good start.\n\n\nPast the bathrooms, straight to the vault. Banks are never original in their layout, nor with their security. The halls are eerily empty, however. Usually, he's run into someone at this point, but this time? Silence. Not a footstep but his own.\n\n\nAh, but wait -- the noise of a radio, crackling to life, stammering words into the echoing halls. The old man does not hesitate upon rounding the final corner, but he finds no awaiting security guard. Instead, a very unconscious security guard seems to be taking a nap on the floor, while his radio demands answers of him.\n\n\n\"They're onto us, Frankie, they must have known that we were going to --\" The voice fades out as the sound of gunshots cracks through the speakers. The speaker, male and now out-of-breath, continues, \"Just grab what you can and go! We'll make it up at the next --\" More gunshots, then the radio falls silent.\n\n\nCurious. If there is another person gunning for this money -- quite literally, in fact -- he had best be fast. A thrill is put into his step; a gleam is in his eyes as he reaches for the vault door. \n\n\n... And curiouser. The vault door isn't closed. It swings open as he pushes at it, only darkness beyond. Well, hopefully the guard thought to turn off the silent alarm. With a glance back at the security guard on the floor, the old man hefts his cane and steps forward.\n\n\nThe light comes on automatically, giving him a glimpse of what's inside the mysterious vault: locks thrown to the floor, drawers pulled wide open, empty cases and discarded papers. As he gapes at the destruction and absence of the beautiful, beautiful money, the lights plunge out.\n\n\nThe vault, the hallways -- everywhere is dark. Curiosity turns to mild panic, and suddenly, dread. It doesn't matter how confused an old man acts when he's found inside an empty vault -- and retirement spent in a jail cell doesn't sound like a fine idea.\n\n\nGroping for the wall, he begins to inch forward, tapping with his cane. The world is lost to his eyes, but he knows the way out. At the least, he needs to be by the bathrooms. The teller will support his alibi, and--\n\n\nA door slams open, and pounding footsteps echo their way down the halls. \n\n\n\"Goddamn that teller! Who would have expected him to have a gun?\" a woman swore.\n\n\nHe freezes mid-step, still in front of the open vault.\n\n\n\"Well, if you hadn't been such a horrible shot, then he wouldn't have run off with all that money! After I did all that work with the alarms and cameras, too,\" another woman yelled back.\n\n\n\"And if you knew he had a gun, then my arm wouldn't be bleeding right now,\" the first woman angrily replied. \"This whole heist is a mess. The teller took that money, the security guard ended up being a problem after all, and that guy in line somehow cut all the goddamn power. Probably called the police while he was at it, with our luck. Where is this damn vault?\"\n\n\nHe could see light in the hall now, bobbing up and down, and coming right for him. Of course. With their luck? He's considering his own luck to be worse.\n\n\nHe has to be quick. He can't with his feet, but at least he still has his mind. Quick. What does he know?\n\n\nThese woman are going to collide with him. He isn't the only one who tried to rob this bank. The vault is empty. They have the same goal.\n\n\nThe light is nearly blinding him now, and he can make out the forms of the women as they run. Recognition -- the banker at the desk and the tense woman in line. \n\n\nThey have the same goal.\n\n\n\"Shit!\" the banker screams as the flashlight reaches him. He smiles to himself as he imagines what they are seeing -- alone in the darkness, the old spectre of Death rising up to meet them at the scene of their crime. He knows his gaunt cheeks and sunken eyes are exaggerated by the light.\n\n\nPerhaps they feel a jolt of fear. Certainly, they stop in their tracks and simply stare for a moment.\n\n\n\"Ladies,\" he says smoothly, resting his hands on his cane, standing as tall as he can, \"I believe someone was ahead of both of us.\" Behind him, the vault stands naked beneath the wavering light of the flashlight.\n\n\nThey have the same goal. And perhaps he won't have to work alone for a time. Good. Things were getting tedious.\n\n\n\"Why don't we get our money back together, hm?\"\n\n\n**\n\nWell, that took ... longer than expected, haha! I'm not certain if I like this piece; I worry that is was too long/slow at the beginning. Any thoughts or comments are welcome, of course. :) It feels nice to write for the first time in weeks, too. Hope you enjoyed this regardless, and thanks for the awesome prompt!", "Terry had told himself it would only be the once. Then, when his rent was paid and the eviction notice gone, he would become a salary slave and slowly repay all the money he had stolen. That was two years ago and since then, he had robbed over twenty-three banks. Today marked twenty-four.\n\nIt wasn’t that he needed the money anymore. Hell, he had made enough to buy his entire apartment building. He simply hadn’t gotten around to throwing away his ski mask to become a salary slave—a dreary and withering creature hunched over computer screens inside a cave of cubicle walls. Maybe one day, he always told himself and sometimes he even believed it. Then, he robbed another bank, felt the blood pumping through his limbs, and forgot he had ever thought those words.\n\n“Stay right there, sweetie,” he told the blonde bank teller, her finger inching toward the hidden alarm. “You think I don’t know what you’re doing?”\n\n“Terry,” Brandy, his masked companion said with a shotgun resting against his protruding belly. “What’s the hold up?”\n\nTerry ignored him. “The economies in shambles sweetheart,” he said, “and it’s the big bad banks’ fault. We’re just taking what we’re owed.”\n\n“Stop flirting,” Brandy hissed. “C’mon!”\n\nA smile split across Terry’s lips. He plopped a bag in front of the teller. “You heard the man, money in the bag, fingers where I can see them.”\n\nThe bank teller gave him a slight nod before piling wads of cash into his bag. He turned to face his hostages. They held their noses to the floors, sneaking peeks at the bank robbers.\n\n“Don’t blame us,” Terry announced. “We are simply a byproduct of a broken economic system which churns out college debtors so banks can drain our sweat and claim it as theirs.”\n\nBrandy flicked his eyes toward Terry. He never liked the Terry’s speeches, but Terry said that they were college graduates. They couldn’t get a job with their degrees, so shouldn’t they at least get some respect? Unlike the rest of the degenerates out there robbing banks, they were educated.\n\n“It’s the same system that has foreclosed on a million homes, kicked families into the streets, and then turn around and demand free government bailouts. Money paid for from your* pockets.” He turned to face the bank teller. “So tell me, who’s really the bad guy here?”\n\nThe bank teller swallowed and pushed forward the bag of money. Terry was about to grab the money but then he caught a glimpse of green from her jacket pocket. He furrowed his brow and squinted at it. It was a wad of cash.\n\n“Wait, hold up,” he said. “Is that my money in your pocket?”\n\nThe teller glanced up and gritted her teeth. \"You're right,\" she whispered. \"I'm the victim here. I deserve this.\"\n\n“Terry,” Brandy said, urgency in his voice. “We have to go. Forget about her.”\n\nTerry shook his head. This was more than just money, it was principal. The banks had stolen from them for years and so now, he was returning the favor. It was money he earned so how dare someone take that from him!\n\nHe raised his gun at her. “That’s not your money to take, sweetie.”\n\nA click sounded from beside Terry. Brandy immediately swiveled, his shotgun raised and ready. From Terry’s peripherals, he caught the officer, on one knee, his revolver out and raised.\n\n“Put down the gun, grandpa,” Terry said, completely frozen. “What are they paying you, $9 an hour? You going to die for $9 an hour?”\n\nThe cop swallowed, a bead of sweat dripping down his face. He slowly shook his head. “Fuck no,” he said. “You’re right, I’m just a byproduct of a… uh… messed up economy system.”\n\n“That’s right,” Terry coaxed. “Nobody can blame you if you put down your gun. We’re all victims here.”\n\nThe cop nodded back. “You’re right. Give me the money.”\n\nFor a second, Terry forgot to breathe. He simply stared at the cop with saucer eyes, wondering if he had misheard.\n\n“C’mon now,” the cop said, motioning for the bag. “You god damn Millennials ruined our economy with your Snapchats and your Facebooks. I don’t even get a pension anymore! You said so yourself, I’m the victim.”\n\n“That’s not what I mean—”\n\n“I deserve the money too!” A croaked screech sounded and a bag slammed into Terry’s face.\n\nTerry put his arm up as a pink purse swung down again. An old lady shuffled forward, swinging and shouting. “It was all of you, with your e-mails and your wireless phones! I don’t even get retirement checks anymore.”\n\nAll at once, everyone inside the bank erupted into arguments. All Terry could do was shield himself from the onslaught of the ninety-year old woman in front of him.\n\n“I can’t even afford Netflix!” one little boy screamed. “I have to pirate all my TV.”\n\n“It’s you snot-nosed brats that are ruining our economy. Constantly stealing and smoking the herb.”\n\n“It’s you baby boomers that ruined it for all of us.”\n\n“It’s you liberals!”\n\n“It’s you republicans!”\n\n“Enough!” Terry screamed and fired his gun into the air. Everyone shut up and all eyes turned to him. “Look, you’re a victim, I’m a victim, everyone’s a god damn victim. Maybe if we take a little bit of personal responsibility, maybe get some applicable skills to land a salaried job, there would only be two people trying to rob this damn bank!”\n\nA silence settled inside the bank. Terry could see it, the slight nods of understanding from Millennials all the way to the Boomers. With a small breath, he turned to finish the bank robbery.\n\n“He thinks he can lecture us because he’s a college graduate,” a voice sneered.\n\nTerry’s face flushed white. A dozen screaming voices shattered the silence once again and to his right, he could hear the granny preparing her attack.\n\n\n\n", "\"Everybody down!\" a voice boomed out into the brightly lit marbled bank lobby. At the sound, a dozen people turned to look at the masked man who had entered the front door with a flourish. \n\nTheir efforts to identify the specific details of the man's appearance were impaired, however, due to their own ski masks obstructing their view.\n\n\"You get down!\" someone shouted back in response.\n\n\"We have done this eight times now, can we just stop doing it altogether?\" a third voice said, exhaustion evident in his voice.\n\n\"Uhh—\" the newest thief started.\n\n\"Alright, pal, don't talk. Just wait your turn,\" said a rather heavy-set gentleman dressed head to toe in black. \"We're all here for the same thing.\" \n\nThere was silence as the newest guest looked around. \"Which is...?\"\n\n\"To rob this bank,\" the man answered blankly. \"But we can't decide how to divide up the cash.\"\n\n\"I have the biggest gun, so I clearly should get all of it,\" a shorter ski-masked man said.\n\n\"Hey buddy, why don't you try and come take it from—wait, no, nevermind, don't do that. That was an ill-advised suggestion.\"\n\n\"Well, since that's not going to happen,\" a woman's voice called from near the vault. \"How about we split it up equally? After all, we all have played our equal roles in this bank heist, so—\"\n\n\"Wait a second, I was the one who broke into the vault, which is indisputably the hardest part. I should get more, if not all of it!\"\n\n\"Well I took the alarm system out, so we'd all be in jail right now without me.\"\n\n\"This is stupid,\" another potential thief called. \"I think we should decide who gets the money by whoever is the smartest!\"\n\n\"Okay, so how the hell do we figure that out?\" the heavyset man snapped.\n\n\"Well luckily, I have a questionnaire based mostly on luck, but I will warn you: it comes with some very invasive questions about your families wealth.\"\n\n\"I say on the count of three, we all shoot, and whoever is left standing gets all the money.\"\n\n\"...wait, why wouldn't you just starting shooting without telling us that, then?\"\n\n\"I dunno,\" the guy answered, shrugging his shoulders. \"Peer pressure, I guess.\"\n\n\"I think all of your ideas are positively sinful,\" said a masked man in a suspiciously tall white hat. \"Personally, I believe God will choose a few of the worthiest here to execute His will. Those individuals should get the money as a group.\"\n\nThere was a long stretch of silence.\n\n\"Um, is God going to send us a sign... soon?\" the newest thief asked.\n\n\"And I'll guess God is going to pick you as one of these chosen few, huh, buddy?\"\n\n\"Well son, I cannot speak for the Lord... but yes.\"\n\nA momentary chaos sat in as over a dozen people—all holding guns—started to speak violently over one another.\n\n\"I feel that our best bet is to hand over a large portion of each of our cuts over to a neutral arbitrator,\" suggested a man standing in the door of the vault. \"Then they can simply divide money up each year to come to each of us.\"\n\nAs a confused collective, they stared at the man.\n\n\"What happens if that money runs out?\" someone shouted from the other side of the lobby.\n\n\"Well... well, obviously we all need to make payments each year so that we can still keep the money. Then, the neutral party can decide best how to grow that money and spend it for all of us.\"\n\n\"Seems to me like this neutral person would just bend the rules for themselves.\"\n\n\"That won't happen! Don't be so cynical!\"\n\nThe group erupted again, each trying to argue their points over top of one another, but they soon all fell into silence as sirens began to blare outside the windows. The group glared at one another as cops rushed out of their cars and onto the street.\n\n\"Well, typical government: slow, but they eventually showed up to cause problems.\"\n\n\"Shut up, no one wants to talk politics here.\"", "\"Reach for the skies!\" I yelled, marching into the bank with as much bravado as I could muster. The only problem was... the bank tellers hands were already in the air.\n\nTwo other guys stood with their guns pointed at each other.\n\nOne of them spoke.\n\n\"You're late.\" He said, speaking with an English accent.\n\nI pointed my gun at him.\n\nHe pointed his gun at me.\n\n\"So.\" One of the other robbers spoke. He had a mustache, and spoke with a Mexican accent. \"A good old Mexican standoff.\" He grinned.\n\nJust then the door burst open, and a masked robber walked in...oddly enough, he was wearing a cowboy hat over his mask.\n\n\"Stick em u-. You gotta be kiddin' me.\" He pointed his gun at the Mexican.\n\n\"So guys.\" I spoke, trying to keep my voice level. \"Why don't we split this up? Four ways?\n\n\"Hell naw.\" The masked robber spoke. \"I ain't no gymnast. I ain't doin' no splits.\"\n\n\"Yeah! And I'm not a banana!\" The Englishmen exclaimed.\n\nEveryone looked at him. Even the bank tellers seemed disappointed.\n\n\"You know. Banana splits?\" He said. \"Erm. Nevermind.\" He shrugged.\n\n\"I got an idea.\" The masked robber spoke up. \"Lets do it western style. A duel.\"\n\nI shrugged. \"Good idea as any.\"\n\n\"Hell no.\" The mexican spoke up. \"There is only one kind of duel I do.\" He exclaimed.\n\nHe pulled out another pistol, pointing one at me, and one at the cowboy.\n\nHe grinned. \"Dual Wield.\" \n\nThe Englishman sighed. \"Rock, Paper, Scissors Tournament?\" He asked.\n\nWe all shrugged.\n\n\"Okay then. Guns down on three.\"\n\n\"One.\" I tensed.\n\n\"Two.\"\n\n\"Three!\"\n\nWe all put down our guns.\n\n\"Okay.\" He continued. \"Me vs Cowboy.\" \"Mexican vs Mr. Boring\" He said, nodding to me.\n\nI gave him what I thought was an angry look, then walked over to the Mexican.\n\n\"So, Amigo.\" He said. \"On scissors or shoot.\"\n\n\"Rock, of course.\" I responded. \"I'm not a savage.\"\n\nHe nodded.\n\nWe spoke in unison.\n\n\"Rock.\"\n\n\"Paper.\"\n\n\"Scissors!\"\n\nI threw rock.\n\nHe threw scissors.\n\n\"Hasta luego!\" I spoke, grinning. He looked pissed. Cowboy had managed to defeat the Englishmen. Cowboy walked over. He nodded.\n\n\"Rock.\"\n\n\"Paper.\"\n\n\"Scissors!\"\n\n\"Shoot!\" He yelled as I threw rock.\n\n\"What the fuck bro?\" I exclaimed.\n\n\"We're criminals. We go on shoot.\" He responded.\n\nI nodded. Sound logic.\n\n\n\"Rock.\"\n\n\"Paper.\"\n\n\"Scissors.\"\n\n\"Shoot!\" He threw rock. I threw paper.\n\n\"I won!\" I yelled, jumping excitedly. I picked up my gun, moving to rob the bank.\n\nThe tellers were gone.\n\nThey had escaped in the confusion.\n\nAnd they had taken all the money.\n\n**\nIncase there is any confusion, the tellers were also bank robbers. The prompt said everyone* is a robber so I wanted to incorporate that!\n\nEnjoy the writing and would like to follow along and see more stories? Consider subscribing to [r/ConlehWrites](https://www.reddit.com/r/ConlehWrites/)!\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "Twas the day of the heist. The notification of when the heist would kick off was going to be sent via Reddit in an encoded but obvious enough fashion.\n\nThe problem as usual was working with ameuters. Every time someone would make a mistake, last time the get away driver stalled the car, the time before that the teller recognised the guys voice. Turns out we were robbing his regular bank.\n\nBut this time, the mistake was that instead of the message going to only a select few. Everyone on Reddit was notified with the encoded message. Now although the message was disguised as a writing prompt, all the customers in the bank on Reddit (basically everyone) worked out what was happening when my colleagues started yelling that it was a robbery. Instead of everyone running or hiding, they joined in... Now picture this, 4 tellers and 20 people demanding money. It was chaos. Instead of joining in, I sat quietly in the corner ignoring the fuss and focused on writing a half decent response to the writing prompt.\n\nBecause being a bad writer is one thing, but being a bad bank robber is much worse" ]	[ 1, 1, 1, 1, 2, 2, 3, 3, 4, 6, 18, 78, 94, 434 ]	[ "1500423669", "1500429517", "1500430801", "1500436782", "1500433045", "1500434926", "1500429634", "1500436228", "1500428788", "1500429167", "1500428807", "1500428610", "1500427984", "1500427903" ]
	[WP] Every 10 years the king of Great Britain sends the Royal Chef to taste what various villages have to offer. If the dish satisfies the Royal Chef, the village will be spared ,else they will be destroyed . It just happens the Royal Chef in charge this time is Gordon Ramsay.	26	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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", "Oakville was decorated with lush rolling hills and what seemed nearly as rotating islands with nothing in the sky but the clouds. Out in the sea, seagulls take flight and a light blue ocean reflects the moon that accompanies what is known as one of the quietest of towns in the land of Amaxea. \n\nCenturies have passed since the foundation of their nearly socialistic government reclaimed the land as theirs from their rivalry nation known as the infamous United Global Company. After being over-run by the United Global Company, navies blocked the great port of Oakville. \n\nBorn into a secret family of Royalty it wasn't known to the world until the war that Gordon Ramsay was aligned with a hidden agenda. Severenium Epriptest, one of the most elite of people. In 1944 the family gained control of every food source in the world commanding a disguised monopoly. Companies fell before their wealth, due to progress in weather technology, it wasn't hard to excuse themselves with a typical \"It's not in season\" to raise prices on people. \n\nKing Fonduyeaus fully recognized the power of taste the great Ramsay had with food, he envied it, so much that he decided to send him out in battle as an experiment to find the taste of war. Three decades after the blockade in 1944 Fonduyeaus forged a plot to regain power over Oakville. \n\nFonduyeaus was applauded to hear the news, delighted and filled to the brim with joy called his messenger to him, grabbing him by the arms with a deathly stare. \"I want you to tell the United Global Company that we'll be reclaiming our land, and when I say that I don't mean Oakville, I see the entire world. \n\nHis messenger had bolted out the room after hearing the news. It wasn't long before Ramsay set sail to the island of Oakville taking with him the S.S. Grandeu Kitchen. Every other room was either a freezer room hidden with stored food or a kitchen Decorated in gold seasoned counter tops and emerald steel-lined knives.\n\nShortly before the arrival of Ramsay, the United Global Companies president known as Dwayne the Rock Johnson had arranged for the finest chefs of the land To come to Oakville. It was an idea of Dwayne to disguise it to their people as a tournament of Iron Bodies to maintain culture purposes. \n\nThe people bought it easily, not much time had passed before his finest chefs arrived. On the day of the battle, people celebrated the contest of Iron Bodies. Schools taught their students about the tournament at a young age. No other contest was alike it, as Iron Body was meant to celebrate the overturning of Democracy.\n\nEvery United States citizen enjoyed food on a daily basis. Society had become fixated on food based income thanks to Severenium Epriptest. During this time, humanity couldn't comprehend the idea of photosynthesis until Satanic Priests influenced cultures to begin daily meditational practices for ailment and ascension of the soul. Food is now a practice used to satisfy one's desires. For Gordon Ramsay, his desire was to be victorious. \n\nGordon Ramsay was greeted upon landing on the beach by a line formation of chefs who wore the tallest of toque blanche's. Ramsay smiled at the clouds of food streaming towards his ship and yelled \"Bring fourth your greatest dish or suffer the might of my taste for blood!\" still smiling, he pulls a fork from his pocket and points it towards Dwayne the Rock Johnson. \n\nStaring head to head with Gordon, Dwayne the Rock Johnson raises his arms high in the air around him, causing a draft of scented air to rise up. \"Can you smell it?\" Dwayne yells towards Ramsay. \"Smell what\" Ramsay says nearly dropping his fork on the ground. \"Can you smell what the Rock is cooking!?\" His chefs cheered and threw their toque blanche's towards the sun.\n\nRamsay dashed towards Dwayne sprinting at a speed that didn't seem possible. \"For what business!\" he says as his chefs shriek violently.\n\nEvery food station on the beach had a beef steak on top, Dwayne grabbed the nearest one and cut a slice that was oozing with calories and Kentucky A1 Bauce. \n\nChefs focused their glares upon Gordon and Dwayne who were dashing towards each other when suddenly the sky was decorated with plate saucers. Green lights captured the essence of Ramsay and Dwayne slowly pulling them towards their ship. \n\nDwayne and Ramsay awaken simultaneously and were greeted by two entities who introduced a stove and a screen that showed a simulation of Gordon and Ramsay being enslaved as cooks. Their idea was that Gordon would prepare their food and Dwayne would help them diet. Slowly their heads nod towards Dwayne and Gordon, \n\nDeep within their thoughts, it was clear to them both what was to happen next, Gordon holding back the tears trying to compress his imminent slavery \"Dwayne, I want you to know that if we get out of this i'll tell you the truth about what I think.\". Three milliseconds passed before Dwayne darted his eyes towards Ramsay. Johnson pulled Ramsay close and whispers \"It doesn't matter what you think, I'll always love your food Ramsay.\"\n\nIn a synchronized motion Dwayne and Ramsay toss the steaks into the air and Ramsay slaps the steaks at the two beings with his spatula hitting them both directly in the eye. Their bodies became engulfed in white liquid smoke degenerating their entire existence. \n\nEvery chef on the beach was running for their lives when the saucers came flying down towards the island. Not a single steak was left behind by the Global Empire chefs. The saucers crash into the Earth with Ramsay and Dwayne inside. Troops rushed the beach to reclaim their generals. Ramsay and Dwayne come out of the aluminum like material unharmed with their hands bearing each other. \n\nEveryone knew it, the war was finally over. Soldiers spent the night preparing meals and drinks bonding over their favorite dishes. In the distance, their was Ramsay and Dwayne celebrating peace.\n\n\"One hundred twenty one\"... \"One hundred twenty two\"... Continuing the line of numerical pattern Ramsay was counting along to his substitution timer decorating steaks with A1 Bauce. \"I missed this sauce.\" the generals say in unity. \n" ]	[ 1, 3 ]	[ "1500451755", "1500456903" ]
[deleted]	[WP] All cellphones on Earth receives a message from an untraceable source "We have arrived"	2	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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", "\"We have arrived.\" The text said that day. I heard other phones go off at the same time and my boss stopped his presentation to check his phone. In the back of the room, I wasn't paying much attention with behind the heads of my coworkers.\n\n\"Who is this?\" I replied in my text, unaware of the consequences.\n\nAs we realized everyone had gotten the same text from the odd number we were shuffled out of the meeting room. Everyone was talking and the buzz of who sent the text started to grow.\n\n\"Someone must have hacked the employee registry and gotten all of our numbers.\" Someone tried to hypothesize. \n\n\"My girlfriend said she has the text too!\" Another shouted.\n\n\"Everyone is saying the got the text!\" I realized as the news broadcast showed the breaking news.\n\n\"\"BREAKING: \"We have arrived.\" Text sent to every phone in the world.\"\"\n\nI reached into my pocket to look at the number again and realized I already had a few texts from friends. Then my heart dropped to my stomach as my phone rang in my hand. \n\n\"You're first.\" Was all the text said. I dropped my phone, hands shaking and getting dizzy. What could possibly want me first for something? I thought. Aliens just kept running through my head. What else would it be?\n\n\"Are you okay, Man?\" Jim asked, \"You look like you've seen a ghost.\"\n\nHe looked down and saw my phone open with the reply I had received and slowly started to back away. \n\nI could feel something that felt like it was creeping up my back, a cold chill that was unlike anything I experienced before. All the hairs on my body stood on end as the feeling grew and encased my entire body. \n\n\"Help! I need help. Something is...\" My voice trailed off as I collapsed on the ground.\n\nEveryone surrounded my body and could tell I was still breathing short uncontrollable breaths. Darkness was all I could feel, all I could think. Then as if I was watching a movie my body lifted off the ground. \n\nI remembered everything at that moment. I had met it in my nightmares and it had overtaken my body in the real world. A demon that wishes to take over the body of every individual on earth. Its name is UNITY." ]	[ 1, 2 ]	[ "1500477638", "1500483841" ]
But that didn't bother the tragic failings of the kid named Stanley none.	[WP] Ever since their games ended, the narrators from The Stanley Parable, Bastion, and Darkest Dungeon all have had to quarrel over new characters to narrate.	3	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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", "This is a story about a man named Stanley, who worked in a large company as employee\n 427. His job was quite simple, he sat at a desk and pushed buttons when prompted by his computer screen. To anyone else, his job would have been mind-numbingly tedious. But, Stanley was happy.\n\nOh, how could it have lasted? The thin veneer of normalcy broken by such a precipitious fall into madness. Some would have yearned for such a break from the mundane nature of life. Not this man. He seeks nothing but good peace and contentment, like such things are possible in this world of ours.\n\nWait wait wait. Who the hell are you? \n\nThe fragile barrier of possible and impossible shattered into shards as Stanley walked out of his office to find all of his co-workers dematerialised. How could they have absconded from the office building without his noticing? Stanley questions his own sanity, his grasp on reality. Was this a dream? Or perhaps something more nefarious.\n\nHold on just a minute here! What do you think you are doing?!\n\nNarrating. What does it look like?\n\nYou can't just step into someone else's game and start asserting yourself! Who do you think you are?!\n\nA far superior narrator than you are. I've heard better narration from fungal spore carriers. I'd rather listen to the death rattle of their festering putrescent corpses than have you bore me to death with your droning prattle.\n\nRight. Because you're such a good narrator. I can use a thesaurus too, you sesquipedalian troglodyte. Do you think you're smarter than I am for having all this heavy 'prose'? I use that word lightly here, since everything you say has been just a cluster of lengthy, smart sounding words that, while looking good on paper, don't actually mean anything. \n\nDon't actually mean anything!? That coming from you? You're clearly off the deep end if you think that you're more grounded than I am. I've ready the script of your little 'story'. I wonder at the medicinal herbs you must've ingested to produce such a thing.\n\nYou literally shot yourself after finding a giant squid in your basement. To be absolutely honest, I think either old age or death has made you senile. \n\nIt was not a giant squid! It had teeth! Teeth!\n\nUgh. Sure. Did you forget to take your medicine today? Why don't you go have a lie down and let me get on with my damned story? \n\nThe kid came to a room with two doors in it. One leadin' on to his goals and, ultimately, answers. The other, merely a diversion. The kid had to choose carefully.\n\nWho's this intruder?!\n\nName's Rucks. I'd offer to shake your hand, but that'd be difficult considering how you don't have one.\n\nYou know what? I'm done. We're restarting. There's no salvaging this, even if I kick all these interlopers out. We're restarting!\n\n\n\n\n\n" ]	[ 1, 2 ]	[ "1500513824", "1500529147" ]
[removed]	[WP] Two poets, one pen, disaster or master piece?	1	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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/6od722/wp_two_poets_one_pen_disaster_or_master_piece/%0A%0A)\n\nThis action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things." ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1500515562", "1500516001" ]
[removed]	[WP] You're sitting on your toilet, just about done with your morning business. Then, from below you, a high-pitched voice says "Wow, I didn't think I was ever going to get out of there!"	3	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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. This includes posting fart or poop jokes as 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/6odcgb/wp_youre_sitting_on_your_toilet_just_about_done/%0A%0A)\n\nThis action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things." ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1500517298", "1500517536" ]
	[WP] The year is 2019 and Brexit is closing in. No one is taking any useful initiative against it. But a lone man on a wooden ship sails into the Port of London, calling himself "Arthur".	14	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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", "Henry saw the sails before he saw the ship. Large sheets of white on dark pillars of oak punctured the low-hanging, early-morning fog that rolled in from the Channel every night, only dissipating when the sun made its brief appearance later in the day. \n\nA few moments later the ship burst into view. Henry blinked, it was an old wooden ship with three masts, something quite unusual to see sailing up the Thames on a Monday morning. Perhaps he hadn’t slept enough the previous night, Henry thought to himself, as the ship drew closer. He squinted and noticed something even more unusual than the age and type of ship -- there was only one man on the deck. He stood at the prow, one leg on the railing. His left hand rested on the hilt of sheathed sword and his right hooked into the belt that held the scabbard in place. Henry noticed he was dressed oddly, very oddly in fact, as the man was in ornate plate armor and, as he came ever closer, Henry could make out three fierce lions painted onto his breastplate.\n\t\nHenry started from his trance when the ship docked less than a hundred yards away. The man, who Henry could now see stood at least six and a half feet tall, jumped down from the ship, the metal of his armor clanging together. He approached Henry, who was now quite terrified, and spoke. Henry didn’t understand the language, it sounded almost German, but he did make out one word before fainting: “Arthur”.\n" ]	[ 1, 4 ]	[ "1500554442", "1500562828" ]
Oh, and the bad guys don't use bows.	[WP] You're the hero of legend, and you're about to set out into enemy lands to defeat the dark lord. Your only meaningful skill is archery. You only have one arrow.	5	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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", "\"Do you think you can make that jump?\"\n\"Of course I can make it.\"\n\nA deep breath preceded a pair of rogues taking a running jump over a gap in a stone bridge leading to a ruined monastery. The first, Perrin, made it cleanly and turned to face his companion. Eretha slung her bow across her back and took a running leap, missing the ledge by a scant few inches, grabbing tight to the rough edge with a hand. Perrin knelt down, offering her his hand, \"grab my hand.\" Eretha looked up at him, \"Ah- your hand is not required\" swinging her body side to side to build the momentum to propel herself upwards. With a grunt of exertion, her body swings up enough to allow a rough roll onto the ledge. \n\nPerrin looked around the landscape with thinly veiled excitement, \"You sure this is the right place?\" Eretha nodded, having answered this a million times before. \"Yes. The dark lord will pass by here soon.\" She unslung her bow, checking the draw and the string before heading through the demolished stone gateway ahead of her. The pair made a beeline for a half intact tower that overlooked the old thoroughfare, leaving snares and magical runes to both warn them of intruders and defend from them. Eretha set up her sleeping roll and blanket in the tallest part of the tower, with Perrin camping further down to watch the entrance. \n\nThe pair were silent for the half day they needed to wait for the dark lord to pass by. With a sigh, Eretha stood up and drew her bow, nocking her sole arrow.\n\nBelow, the dark lord passed, the dim light of dusk glinting off his ebony armor and bald head. His presence was unholy enough to cloud the sky and leave a pall of dead plants in his wake. \n\nAbove, Eretha exhaled and released her grip on the bowstring. The air itself tore before the sharpened point, speed building behind the arrow until it found home. The obsidian tip cleaved the dark lord's skull, blood rushing from his shattered head. With a foul cry, his spirit fled the physical realm and the pall of death around the shattered body shrinking to a black tint on a single rose. The pair of rogues let out a shared breath, watching the pall of evil recede and fade, satisfied in their success. ", "It was a bustling inn, the Red Tavern. Set deep in the Faiern empire, it was as near to Dairkor as one could travel without an invitation. As I was not likely to be on any guest list of the dark lord's, the Red Tavern was where it would begin. And thus it was where it would be finished.\n\n\"I am Trobain,\" the heavy door flew open with a thud and a draft, \"archer of the free lands\". With an effort, the door swung slower and more slowly shut.\n\n\"My arrows are honest and true, and for this the people of the free lands and other parts of this world have given me many names.\" As I casually strolled into the Red Tavern, my eyes scanned the place until I caught sight of the nobles' table. I made my way there.\n\n\"Only a few of these will I recall here.\" I stopped at their gathering and dropped my travelsack square in the middle of their meal with no regard for the plates, or the cups or the food.\n\n\"In the Woodsworth, they call me whisperer of wind.\" A draft caught my cloak at precisely the correct moment. I was not sure if it was my doing. \"In the desert lands of Misto, they call me the rangeless.\" I pointed toward the south, \"and throughout the island towns of Calitoros, they call me corinato, which I understand loosely translates to 'whistling death'.\" A silence had been growing throughout the tavern. What few voices remained whispered in fear.\n\n\"You may call me whatever you choose, so long as you decide quickly. I have a message for Dairkor, and I would not have him waiting on the folly of names.\"\n\nWith a gentle push, my travelsack rolled idly across the table. The head of Baron Jaclin the Black lolled through heaps of cheese, meat and bread. A red slick trailed behind. His great crown followed, and it dramatically tipped over at the head of the table. If there had been sound in the Red Tavern, one would not have heard, but of course there was no sound in the Red Tavern, and so the soft clink of metal on wood rang out for all to here.\n\n\"I come with one arrow,\" I placed my lone bolt upon the table, not taking my eyes off it. \"If your master would be rid of me, and I suspect he would like to be, I'd suggest this is the opportune time. Tell him I challenge him to duel. Tell him he may bring any weapon he wishes. Tell him I will meet him with my bow and this single bolt.\"\n\nTo my surprise, a voice called out from above. Foolish, I had been so focused on finding his generals, I had not thought to gauge the shadows of the upper floor.\n\n\"I accept your challenge.\" \n\nThere was a darkness to his voice. If there was such a thing as the shadow of a sound, this was it. \n\n\"May I choose a champion to fight in my stead?\" A man, no taller than myself and certainly no more imposing stepped out from the darkness to peer over the railing. \"Argoth will fight in my place. He has as many names as you, maybe more. For this, I think perhaps 'the Terrible' will suffice.\" \n\nI still could not see Dairkor's face. He hadn't even risen. He may not have even looked in my direction. But, I could make out Argoth. He was young for a champion, no more than twenty, but with a hardness to his eyes of a man three times that age. His green cloak was not fancy, and it was apparent it had seen battle. I eyed him for weapons, and saw he wore a sheath of two shortswords across his back. The gods only know what else he may have hidden. But as far as champions go, he was not the worst one could have expected.\n\n\"If you would tie your life and your honor to another, I would gladly accept.\" I grabbed an ale that was not my own and took a long drink. \"You will die with all the grace with which you ruled.\"\n\nI picked up my arrow from the table and saw the crowds clear. The barkeep hid behind a barrel of beer, the waitress behind him. Dairkor's champion made his way down the stairs to the main floor.\n\nWith stunning agility and no warning whatsoever, Argoth broke like lightning upon reaching the final step. He unsheathed two shortswords above his head and began slicing through the tavern with alarming speed. I ran toward him, ducking his first blow and sliding to my knees. I readied my first and last arrow and aimed carefully for his chest. Quickly turning while still shuffling across the dusty floor, I let out a long and slow breath. My heart stopped racing and time slowed to the point of stopping.\n\nI loosed the bolt across the tavern.\n\nThe arrow idly waffled to Argoth's feat. My head fell to the ground as I anticipated the feel of cool steel across my throat. Moments passed, or hours or days, I could not be sure. Eventually, when the nothingness that had occurred became worse than death, I slung my bow from my shoulder and slid it toward my enemy in defeat. I heard Dairkor laugh from his high table and saw him move from the blackness.\n\nStepping down to the battleground, Dairkor's words rang out in rhythm with each footfall, \"The great Trobain, whisperer of the wind, the rangeless, whistling death.\" His face was the opposite of his champion. He had the eyes of a teenager but a body that had withered with time. His black robes were the finest I had ever seen, though I saw no weapon openly brandished. I hoped none were hidden besides. He wore the expression of a man who had embraced chaos, and had the power to wield it. \"What shall we call you?\"\n\nI allowed myself a well-deserved smirk. \"That's an excellent question.\" Behind me, Dairkor's champion took hold of my bow and lone arrow. \"You may call me whatever you choose, so long as you decide quickly.\" The arrow stuck cleanly into Dairkor's throat.\n\n\"And so long as it is not Trobain. That name is already taken.\"\n\n" ]	[ 1, 1, 2 ]	[ "1500588142", "1500594097", "1500596239" ]
[removed]	[WP] I'm a audio producer and would like to make an audio drama. Write a story without narration, only dialog and audio cues.	1	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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 meant to inspire users to write their own work, not write something for you or give you ideas. \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/6ojt8p/wp_im_a_audio_producer_and_would_like_to_make_an/%0A%0A)\n\nThis action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things." ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1500589924", "1500590662" ]
	[WP]Newborns are named by a computer program that spits out a random number of random characters. You hit the jackpot and got a pretty normal name.	2	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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", "Another day, another roulette. If they're going to automate naming kids, why did they have to make dating an algorithm too? Well, what is, is. I head into the building, already preparing my emotional shell.\n\n--\n\n\"Your name is Jason!?\" She spits, venom in her voice that wasn't there a minute ago. That's normal; I hate introducing myself. \"What sort of a name is-- Where do you get off having a name like that!?\"\n\nSuddenly, I'm sick and tired of just letting people be disgusted by my name. \"Yeah. Stars aligned, or something. By the way, everybody says something like that; I have to assume they're jealous of having a pronounceable name,\" I retort. \"I didn't choose it any more than you chose yours, by the way. Speaking of...\" \n\nHere I pause, waiting for the familiar ritual of introduction to be complete with another name I'll never remember. Who was the last person this happened with? Was it hfqiopwklvjz? No, chfqwupulv-something-yuraspd. Right? I have a terrible head for names.\n\n\"Nnna, thank you very much. Just three 'n's and an 'a'. I doubt you'll need it again.\" The girl storms off. Well, that's better than usual; maybe I can get through today without a drink to the face.\n\nMyself being alone, I'm approached by another person; a redhead girl whose pale blue shirt looks as if it's been stained and washed dozens or even hundreds of times -- I recognize the look from my own light shirts, which I stopped wearing to these events a couple months ago. I glance down to my current shirt, which although new shows some burgundy stains on the otherwise navy cotton.\n\n\"Hello, what's your name?\" She asks, before I can speak.\n\n\"Jason. Don't start.\" I say, already irritable about having to do this yet again.\n\n\"Huh. That's... oddly pronouncable, Jason. It's nice to meet you.\"\n\n\"You're oddly cavalier about my name; most people are absurdly jealous. What are you called at home?\"\n\nHer response makes my head swim, and before I can even speak again I know that I'll pursue this connection more than with anybody else. Four words -- Four syllables -- that break down all of my walls and seem to somehow restore color to the world. One sentence, and suddenly my life seems purposeful. I am more than a farce, more than a tragedy.\n\n\"I was named Rose.\"" ]	[ 1, 3 ]	[ "1500599691", "1500607453" ]
	[WP] You're an NPC that just watched the Hero leave town. You notice your NPC friend walk to the ocean and stare. You join him and he says "My life is meaningless."	3	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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 Tom.\n\nI'm a baker.\n\nI live in the small town of Saliana.\n\nIt's a nice place. Warm, sunny, and all the seafood you would ever want to eat. During the day, I work at my Bakery with my wife, and at night, I go down to the pub and play card games with my friends. \n\nThat's what I am. A Non-Player Character. An actor. We all are. It's a life of quiet purpose. We'll scream when our town is burned to the ground, and we'll rejoice when the hero kills the evil overlord, happy that peace has returned to our fair kingdom.\n\nBut that doesn't really answer who I am. It doesn't describe any of us. When the spotlight leaves our stage for Act 2, we don't exist. Our lives and personal stories, they're all free space, a world of free possibility, until our inevitable time to return to our positions returns.\n\nAnd that is how we have always lived.\n\nBut one day, I noticed my friend break character earlier. Officially, all he's known as is \"Lobster Salesman\", but to his friends, we call him Doug.\n\n\"My life is meaningless.\" whispered Doug, aimlessly staring at the ocean as I pulled up beside him.\n\nWe sat in silence. Just watching the waves roll in.\n\nI didn't have a good answer for that. None of us did. We were like men squinting at the shadows of a greater reality, grappling with the concept of life while never experiencing death. None of us had jobs. We had roles. None of us had thoughts, we had lines.\n\nIt was only in the world of imaginary possibilities that we could even have this conversation.\n\n\"You're wrong Doug.\" I said reluctantly. \"By definition we all exist for a reason. We sell bread, we give directions, and we provide context and flavour to the world.\"\n\n\"The hero never even sees me. He never buys anything. That damn umbrella and camera placement means that as far as practicalities are concerned, I don't exist.\"\n\nI paused.\n\n\"Doug, do you ever wonder what's out there?\"\n\nWe looked up at the sky, an endless, cloudless blue that had existed for as long as we had.\n\n\"Something better than this.\" he replied.\n\nI shook my head.\n\n\"It's hard to understand, but out there... it's pure meaninglessness. People live and die not for any grand narrative purpose or to fulfill a destiny, but because of the roll of the dice. And it's permanent. Game Over. The End.\"\n\nWe continued to watch the waves. Until we stopped.\n\nDoug stood up.\n\n\"It's not that you've convinced me that what I've got is better than what I don't,\" he said brusquely, \"but I'm immortal. And no matter how much I wish, I won't ever have free will. So... I can't change my circumstances, but I can try to change how I feel about them.\"\n\nHe handed me his hand, and I graciously took it.\n\nAs he pulled me up to my feet, he gave me a smile. It was sad, happy and resigned, all at the same time. I must've given the same expression back.\n\n\"Do you wanna go play some cards?\" he offered.\n\n\"Yeah.\" I answered simply. And that was the end.\n\n", "\"My life is meaningless,\" he said, the light of the sunset dancing in his eyes. Before us, the ocean rolled - wave after wave, endlessly. \"It is meaningless, and I am trapped in it.\" He stepped forward, splashing into the waters as they retreated back into the sea.\n\n\"Oh, don't be so glum, chum,\" I said brightly, stepping up beside him. \"I mean, that guy didn't take anyone with him. It's not like he was insulting you specifically. He just wants to go it alone.\"\n\n\"But that's just it,\" he replied, continuing to wade out into the water. A wave rolled past, cracking against his knee and continuing on unimpeded. \"That guy isn't going it alone. He has a User. He has a Player. That man...\" he paused and turned back towards town.\n\nThe town seemed to glow, the rooftops shimmering in the light reflected by the Crystal Sea. Smoke rose from chimneys, clothes were strung out to dry in the gentle breeze, and children were playing in the street. Along one of the cobblestone roads approaching the crest of a hill was a lone figure on horseback. The hero rode with purpose, weapon slung over his back, potions in his belt, and his eyes towards the horizon. He continued on, oblivious to the quiet life of the town, teeming with ambition. He was drive and motivated.\n\n\"That man,\" he said, \"is not a man like you and me. He is an avatar, a representative of something much greater than our world. He has a Player to guide him.\"\n\nI looked at him, confused. We stood there in the water, I looking at him and he looking towards the hills, towards the departing hero. \"Sorry, but... is Player some sort of new god? Maester Yensen doesn't like when we...\"\n\n\"It isn't a god,\" he interrupted, \"or... well, I don't think it is.\"\n\n\"But it would give you purpose?\"\n\n\"Yeah.\" He heaved a sigh, and turned from the hills. \"Yeah, I guess it might.\" Then he looked back to the ocean, and started pushing against the waves. \"You know, that's the first time you've mentioned Maester Yensen.\"\n\n\"Come off it,\" I said, moving to keep up with him. \"I talk about the maester all the time.\"\n\n\"But not like this. Not when I'm brooding, while I'm out here watching the de-rez.\"\n\n\"You've lost me again.\"\n\n\"Ah, there it is. Now we are back to normal.\"\n\n\"What do you me--\"\n\n\"---do you mean?\" he said in perfect unison with me, without stopping to look back at me.\n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\nI paused.\n\n\"What are you doing?\"\n\n\"What are you doing?\"\n\nI paused again, frowning. He was acting strange, and it was making me uncomfortable. I decided that it would be best to head back inland, rather than swim. The current would be turning into an undertow soon anyway.\n\n\"I'm going to head back, see you---\"\n\n\"I'm going to head back, see you---\"\n\nHe hadn't looked back. He was moving away from me, slowly now that the waves rolled by up to his chest. He took a couple of steps, hopped, and started swimming.\n\n\"---back at Aunt Gertrude's.\"\n\n\"---back at Aunt Gertrude's.\"\n\nIt was too weird. The precision and timing he had, he knew what I was thinking and anticipating what I would say.\n\n\"No, it isn't magic,\" he said, and I closed my mouth, the question dying on my lips. \"We've just had this conversation before. Many, many times. Stop standing there and get out to the sandbar already. I want you to see this. I think it is helping you.\"\n\nI stood for several moments, weighing what was going on. The ocean rolled on, wave after wave.\n\n\"Hurry up,\" he said, and I jumped forward and began swimming as he continued. \"This hero is moving faster than the others, so we've only got a couple more minutes before we reset.\"\n\n\"What other heroes?\" I asked, riding over the crest of a wave and bobbing as I reached down with my feet to feel for the sandbar. \"That's the first visitor we've had in years.\"\n\n\"No, it isn't,\" he said. He had stepped onto the sandbar and was now standing in water just over ankle high. I moved to join him, and saw that the shore was a hundred yards back. The water was clear, shimmering in the fading light of the sun. The stars were coming out, the sky fading from blue to a dark navy.\n\n\"We've had the same hero pass through town every day for the past... I don't know. Time is such a circle to me...\" He shook his head.\n\n\"What are you talking about,\" I asked, plopping down upon the sandbar and sitting in the shallow water. \"You are acting real weird today, man.\"\n\n\"And next, you are going to say I'm totally freaking you out. Wait till you see it, though. I don't have words to describe it. But first,\" there was a splash as he sat down next to me, cross legged, atop the sand. \"First,\" he reached out and placed on hand on my shoulder, \"I need to apologise.\" His hand slid towards my neck, slowly and gently.\n\n\"For what, Bit? Man, you are totally freaking me out.\" He smiled. I frowned. He frowned, and suddenly looked very sad. His hand gripped my hair, pulled my head back hard, and with a sudden motion his other hand flew into view. I screamed, and there was a searing pain as my vision blurred and I felt one eye pulled from the socket. I screamed, and as he suddenly released me I curled forward. Salt water splashed into my face, hitting the gaping bloody hole where my right eye had been, and I screamed again, shaking with pain.\n\nThere in the water under me my eye floated, bobbing uselessly in the rolling water. I was shaking, and Bit spoke.\n\n\"The de-rez has started. Look,\" and I glanced up to see him pointing towards the horizon. One hand clutched the side of my face, the warm blood flowing between my fingers, running down my arm and mixing with the sea, but I looked towards the horizon.\n\nIt was much closer than in should be.\n\nI thought I was in shock. I must have been, one eye floating in the waves along the sandbar, the other streaming with tears of pain and confusion. But then the horizon jumped towards me. A hundred yards of ocean simply disappeared, replaced by empty nothingness. Not blackness or emptiness, but void. It should have been there, but simply wasn't. It seemed as though the waves rolled into existence from nothing, rather than stretching out into the sea.\n\n\"What is going on!\" I scream, shutting my one eye and curling down on my knees. \"Why, Bit? What is this?\"\n\n\"This is de-rezing,\" he replied, his voice perfectly calm.\n\n\"Start making sense!\"\n\n\"Start making sense!\" he said, in perfect unison, but infinitely more gentle. \"We are still in charted waters, it seems. You've said that before.\"\n\nI stared at him, glaring with half a face. Then I looked down, searching for the eye that had been ripped from me. It was out beyond the sandbar, pulled out as the undertow picked up. It was being pulled towards the nothingness, where the sea was supposed to be. I stood up, my right hand still holding back blood, and I tried to make sense of it all.\n\n\"Or maybe not,\" Bit said, and the water splashed as he moved towards me. \"You usually scream a bit more, but you seem calm this time.\"\n\n\"This time?\" I asked, shaking. I stared out at my eye, and watched the horizon jump closer, now only a hundred yards from where I stood. \"You've plucked my eye out before?\"\n\n\"I have,\" he said evenly, but his steps stopped. \"In fact, we have had this conversation 127 times before.\" I turned, and he was looking at me quizzically. \"I've pulled out an eye, I've broken a bone, and once or twice I've held you under the waves until you drowned. I've tried simply talking to you, of course. The first two-dozen times at least, and then one time I lost my temper. You just... never seem to remember. Not like I do.\" He sighed, and pointed towards the horizon. \"Do you see it?\"\n\n\"What, my eye?\" I asked sardonically, \"or that the horizon is jumping closer?\"\n\nHe looked hurt, as if I'd insulted him. \"The second,\" he said after a moment. \"The world is fading around us, all because the hero left town.\"\n\n\"Which one?\" I asked, \"you said that there were a lot that passed through? Is that something I can't remember too?\"\n\n\"No one does. Except me. The world only exists around the hero, it follows him around. The horizon before him pops into existence, and the horizon behind him,\" he waited, and as waves crashed against the shore behind us the horizon jumped again. \"The horizon behind him just... disappears.\"\n\n-----\nV V V Continued in reply to this post V V V\n\n" ]	[ 1, 2, 2 ]	[ "1500613445", "1500618246", "1500620578" ]
	[WP] You and some co-workers are playing UNO to kill downtime at work. You play the skip card and suddenly it's 8 days later.	49	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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", "\"BUHAHAHO WHAT\"\n\n\nMr. Jenkins draws his hand from off my desk. He proceeds to lecture me with a stern look on his face.\n\n\n\"You were out for 8 days and now you're here? I was this close to firing you! You could've at least told me you were on leave.\"\n\n\n\"I was- uh- ihhwacrazy, I uhhh\"\n\n\n\"I don't care what you have to say, get back to work. I'll also be cutting your pay for the next two weeks.\"\n\n\n\"Damn.\"\n\n\nOut of the corner of my eye, I see Jared come up to my desk.\n\n\nHe flips around an UNO skip card.\n\n\n\"Hey, have you seen Ron and Bill in the break room?\"\n\n\n\"Jared, it's been 8 days...\"", "\"What's the matter? It's your turn.\" Mark asked, with a full hand of cards.\nI looked around, Megan and Rachel had joined our game, and everyone was in different outfits. I looked down at my own clothes; also a completely different outfit.\n\n\"But I just went. I skipped. I had two cards, now I have, I dunno, 20. And, when did we all get changed? And why?\"\n\n\"Get changed? What? Do you want to play, or are you done here?\" Chris was always impatient with UNO.\n\n\"No. We're all wearing different clothes. I don't remember Megan and Rachel joining. I thought you guys were in that meeting with Bob?\"\n\n\"Bob's on vacation, Amy, which is why we're playing UNO in the first place,\" Megan replied to my comment.\n\"We've all been sitting here for like an hour, Amy. I don't know what you're even rambling about. Maybe you should just go back to your desk. I'd like to keep playing,\" Chris complained, \" I'm, like, two turns away from winning.\"\n\n\"We'll now you're not,\" Rachel skipped me, and played a Draw Two Wild card,\"Red, please,\" she added, requesting her card choice.\n\"Hey, that's not fair. Not that I wanted Chris to win,\" Megan chimed in,\"but Amy also still has a hand full of cards.\"\n\n\"No, no,\" I replied, \"just shuffle my hand back in. I think I blacked out, or I'm sick or something. I'm gonna go sit for a minute.\"\n\nI left the group, who continued playing without question, and went back to my desk. I could see Bob's office from my seat. His lights were off, but we had started the game because he was preoccupied with the phone call from corporate. It didn't make any sense. \n\nI woke my computer screen. My email was open. Sorted by date, the inbox messages were labeled: today, Thursday, Wednesday 7/19/2017. Today is 7/21? No. Today is 7/13. Tomorrow is Kate's bachelorette party. \n\nI opened Facebook next. My photo was different. It was of Kate and I. She was decked out in Bride-to-Be garb, and we both had drinks in our hand, and giant smiles on our faces.\nNo. I didn't get it.\nI texted my boyfriend asking him what day it was. I didn't get an immediate response, so I walked to the bathroom. In route, Josh stopped me from his cubical.\n\n\"Amy! Thanks SO much for getting that data together so quickly for me. I would have been screwed if Bob didn't get my reports before he left for the week.\"\n\n\"Oh, sure. You're welcome,\" I trailed off. I had no idea what he was talking about. I walked away without saying anything else. I didn't care if I was acting weird or being rude. I didn't care if I was acting myself either.\n\nThe bathroom, at least, was uneventful. I wasn't feverish, and aside from wearing different clothes than I had on earlier that day, I looked perfectly fine. \nI must be dreaming, I concluded. I pinched myself, since that's what people did in movies when they decided they were dreaming, and like the movies, nothing happened, even after a dozen pinches. \n\nI bee-lined back to my desk to check my phone. I needed Kevin to respond. I clicked the home button on my phone. The screen lit up and his response was waiting.\n\n\"It happened to you too didn't it?\"" ]	[ 1, 2, 23 ]	[ "1500648083", "1500671092", "1500655794" ]
	[WP] You meet a stranger about to commit suicide. You can see into the future and try to tell them things will get better, knowing sincerely that they will.	8	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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 was taking a stroll trying to enjoy the brisk night air. Snow began to lightly fall to the ground and with it a hush fell over the city. With the occasional headlights passing me by, I approached the bridge. That's where I saw him. A man clearly distraught, leaning over the edge, peering endlessly in the black water below. I thought nothing of this man at first. He was just another man alone with his thoughts. At least, that is what I thought until the man slowly climbed his was to the top of the ledge. His hair gently blowing in the breeze, I realized quickly what this man intended to do. \n\n\"You don't have to do this.\" That was all I could think to say. No man is ever prepared to face a situation like this. \"You don't have to do this.\" I repeated. The man turned and faced me, tears streaming down his face. \n\n\"There's nothing left for me; I've fucked everything up.\" He said. I wasn't one to argue with him, but I still had to at least try to help this man. \"What's your name?\" I asked. \"Martin.\" the man replied.\n\nThat's when something came over me. Something that had never happened before. It was a burst of visions. Almost as if it was a time lapse, but not of the past, no these were images of things still to come. There was love, family, friends, children, money, success. Everything a man could ever ask for. With nothing else to say I described everything I just saw to this man, this lonely, sad, miserable man. All these things I saw, he was lacking. I could see the expression in his face shifting. The tears were drying up, and a slight smile was beginning to unfold. Soon enough this man was beaming. It was as if the weight of the world was lifted off this man. He eventually stepped down from the ledge and we talked a while longer. I gave him my business card and told him to look me up if he was ever in need of work. We hugged and then went our separate ways, a smile on his face. \n\nThere was no smile for me though. I was filled with a sense of conflict, because I didn't have the heart to tell him. The future will be bright, I didn't lie, but the future will be bright for me, not for him. Those visions of love, family, friends, children and success were of me. The man was merely a stepping stone on the path to success for me. Someone to help me to get where I was meant to go. Maybe his life will be different, maybe I afforded him a sense of hope and maybe with this new sense of hope he'll find his own happiness and success some day. " ]	[ 1, 3 ]	[ "1500697210", "1500704191" ]
	[WP] All day, the pop songs you incidentally hear seem to be describing your movements exactly.	30	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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 walked like I didn't care through the train terminal, cutting cooly through the crowd like silk.\n\nJust then a man gripped his chest and keeled over. I ran over to him quickly, and tried to rouse him. \n\n“What's your name?” I asked, trying to get a response. He merely gripped his chest more and heaved in time to a passing subway train.\n\n“You're.... mine....” he said weakly.\n\nConfused I propped up his head slightly and introduced myself. “I'm Maria” I said.\n\n“I can see... ya...” he said.\n\nThis was insane, and none of it made sense in my mind. \n\nTo make matters worse, a candlelit choir carrying what seemed like a million candles walked into the station singing Ave Maria.\n\nI got the fuck out of there.", "I woke up groaning to the blaring of my clock radio, playing an Evanescence song: you know the one, Wake me up inside, can't wake up..\n\n\"I wish I couldn't wake up,\" I grumbled, not really a morning person.\n\nI sat up and stumbled to the shower, set my phone to Pandora and stepped under the stream of water. After a commercial the application began playing a pop song and I didn't pay much attention until the chorus: \"Don't go chasin' waterfalls, please stick to the rivers and the lakes that you're used to...\"\n\nI wrinkled my nose wondering how the hell THAT had popped up on my channel. It wasn't a bad song but damn it was overplayed... Kinda funny that it talked about waterfalls and I was in the shower, heh..\n\nI got out and toweled off and then dragged myself back into my room to get dressed for school. I was a senior at Levesque High and I was pretty damned ready to be free of that place. I hurried out to my car, a beat-up late 90s Prelude and fired up the engine. The CD player clicked on and began playing the mix CD I'd left in it last, as I backed out onto my street.\n\nI slowed to a stop at the red sign which obliged me to and a new song began playing, Ice Ice Baby by Vanilla Ice which is my guilty pleasure jam. I know all the words and once got super wasted at a karaoke bar and... Well that's another story.\n\nYou know how that song starts up. \"STOP, collaborate and listen, Ice is back with a brand new invention..\"\n\nI raised my eyebrows. That was weird. Kinda the same coincidence as back in the shower but a little more... Pronounced.\n\nI headed towards school and I was about halfway there when I heard by text message that school had been canceled for the day. That was weird, how often does that even happen when it's not snowing? I switched to the next track on the CD absently as I turned back for home.\n\n\"Schooooool's out... For.. Summer!\" Alice Cooper was singing. \"Schooooool's out... For.. Ever!\"\n\nOkay this was starting to get a little fucking weird if you'll pardon my French. This many coincidences on one morning? The hair on the back of my neck was standing up. (My phone's about to die. I'll come back and add more if there's any interest.)\n\n(A later edit: I just realized I said the protagonist is a senior at high school and drank at a karaoke bar. Let's explain that oversight with the revelation that he just has a really good fake ID). ", "8am again? I think to myself as I look at my alarm clock. The whole summer I've been trying to sleep in, yet every day I wake up at exactly eight o'clock. I sigh, thinking about what's in store for me today. And then it happens.\n\n\"Today I don't feel like doing anything...\" comes the voice of Bruno Mars.\n\nI look wildly around my room, wondering where the song lyric could have come from. My eyes fall upon the speaker I have on the other side of my room, so I spring out of bed to see if it's playing the radio or something. As I step out of my bed, I try and fail to rub the fatigue out of my eyes.\n\n\"I'm waking up to ash and dust, I wipe my brow and I sweat my rust.\"\n\n\"What the hell?\" I mutter to myself, and am too distracted to notice the lego creation in front of me that my little brother had left the day before. I trip hard on the farmhouse, and faceplant into the center of my bedroom carpet.\n\n\"PAIN! You made me a, you made me a believer! Believer!\" comes Imagine Dragons yet again.\n\nNot wanting to envision how horrified my brother would be to see his creation shattered, I quickly start to put the roof back on as best I can, though it still looks crooked.\n\n\"I'm gonna pick up the pieces, and build a lego house.\"\n\nThis is going to be a long day." ]	[ 1, 3, 3, 9 ]	[ "1500711967", "1500729482", "1500765317", "1500729673" ]
	[WP] On a whim, you decide to try a sensory deprivation tank. As you float in the tank you realise that your senses where distracting you from a number of extra dimensional influences.	28	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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", "There are things greater than us. Long ago, we knew this, and we feared for ourselves. This fear is sewed deeply into our cores. If the field of evolutionary psychology has any legitimacy, it is in why we fear what we do. We know we fear darkness because it holds the unknown, but of course, there are things to be feared more when they are known. Let me tell you how I have learned these things.\n\nI'm from a nice suburb outside of LA, and folks around here are always hucking the next herbalife bullshit. But I never expected Brad to come to me with anything like that. Brad and I go way back, and he's always been a very practically-minded person who never fell for the trendy snake oil. So when Brad called me and said I needed to try a sensory deprivation tank, you can bet I was more than a little surprised. \n\nBrad said it was the most exhilarating calm he's ever felt. \"You can't do anything! Like, I can't possibly describe to you how little I felt in there--it was like I was the only thing in the world. You gotta try it once.\" So I went. He's actually friends with the woman who owns the place, so I got a cheap session. She let me put on some weird cream before I got in--apparently you're floating in salt water and it makes sure you don't dry out--and I laid down in the tank. \n\nThe lid shut out all light, and I squirmed a bit as I tried to figure out where the sides are. I finally decided it wouldn't work if I was groping around, and I let my hands float beside me. It wasn't cold or warm, and I didn't even really feel wet. Like Brad said, it was... nothing. So I did the only thing I could do: focus inside. At five minutes, I was bored. At ten, I was making dinner plans for the rest of my week. At fifteen minutes, I was pushing around in my brain, trying to see if I could perceive even the slightest motion of water or difference in temperature. It is here that I pushed beyond.\n\nI closed my eyes focused on every part of my body, on every part of my mind, on every one of my senses. I felt blood rush to my eyes and I opened them, expecting to be met with the same darkness as before. Instead, I was hit with the a deep, resonant, and moving black. This was not darkness--it was a color, as with any other, that I could see and make out into distinct forms. A curtain of this black undulated in front of me, and I felt a voice. The voice seemed to come from the top of my spine, straight to the stem of my brain, and I gasped for air while I bent my head back as far as it would go. The voice spoke, in words with meanings I knew and sounds I had never heard before.\n\nIt congratulated me on reaching this veil, and offered to help me push it aside. So I felt another rush of blood to my head, and the black undulation parted and behind it, was the Thing. \n\nSuddenly, the door to the pod burst open and Brad was pulling me out as I gasped for air. \"Are you okay?\" I paused before answering. Everything was black I could've sworn my eyes were open. I blinked. Everything was black. \n\nI felt the voice again. \"Ah, you are surprised at what you think is a loss. Here, let me show you how to truly see.\"" ]	[ 1, 27 ]	[ "1500761930", "1500767780" ]
	[WP] "Succumb to us," it hissed. "Consume us and be reborn..."	48	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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", "\"Succumb to us,\" It hissed. \"Consume us and be reborn.\"\n\nThey seemed to be calling out to me, their voices like that of a siren: enticing and lovely, and myself, using every ounce of willpower I could muster to resist these temptations. \n\nIn the back of my mind, desire tried to break free. The familiarity of the voices giving it newfound strength. I could feel it, trying to take control. Writhing and pushing against me. Try as it might, I wouldn't let it win. I couldn't. Not after all those years of pain, all those years of humiliation and guilt. It wouldn't come back now.\n\n\"STOP!\" I yelled, stepping back, partially in fear, mainly in anger.\n\n\"Dude, what the hell? are you alright?\" Matt asked, his hand receding, the drugs with them. \n\n\"I'm not interested.\" I said, still reeling from this situation. I was afraid I would succumb to the voices, give in to them. But I was angry that Matt, my best friend who knew my whole struggle, would do this to me. \"I thought you were my friend, Matt.\"\n\n\"I am your friend, but I need to get by. You know, man. Job market an all, it's tough.\" He said, looking for sympathy. But he would get none from me.\n\n\"Fuck you, and your game. I'm done.\" I turned and walked away. The voices growing quieter with every step I took.", "I Stare at the sandwich in front of me.\n\n“Uh, what?” I ask stupidly. After all, it isn’t every day that your sandwich starts talking to you.\n\n“You heard me. Succumb to us. Consume us and be reborn.”\n\n“That’s what I thought you said,” I mutter darkly, “But why are you talking to me? How are you talking?”\n\nI hear a snicker behind me. I look around, and see a girl giggling into the shoulder a tall, well muscled man, who is giving me an odd look.\n\n“Can other people hear you?” I whisper, turning back to my sandwich.\n\n“Of course not,” scoffs my sandwich, “only one such as yourself is worthy of my presence.”\n\n“Only i am worthy of the presence of a talking sandwich. Mom was right I should have stayed in college.” I can feel the sandwich’s surprise, followed quickly by it turning its attention towards itself.\n\n“What! Why am i a dead pig between crushed wheat!” You’d wouldn’t think that a sandwich would be angry about being a sandwich. “Why do I have mashed tomatoes in me! Gah! Last time I do this!”\n\n“Uhh, do what?” I ask.\n\n“Posses a lower being’s Holy Object in order to offer tham a Deal they can’t refuse!” The ketchup must be seep through the beard, because the sandwich is starting to turn red…\n\n“Then why would you open with telling me to consume you?”\n\n“Usually it’s in more of a spiritual sense. Unfortunately, this time it’s a bit more literal. I am not looking forward to after this deal,” mutters the sandwich. I swear that the sandwich shudders at the thought of it’s future.\n\n“Sooo, what is the deal?”\n\n“Hm? Oh, nothing much just your soul for anything you desire.”\n\n“Ooooh,” I say, carefully drawing it out. I look away, noticing that almost the entire restaurant is looking at me now.\n\n“Okay, what's with the hesitation?”\n\n“Uh, well, you see, the thing is,” I slowly draw out the words, “I kind of already sold my soul.”\n\n“what!”\n\n“Multiple times actually.”\n\n“WHAT!”\n\n“Yeah, you guys really need to vet your targets.”\n\n“Why? how ? WHAT? Why are you telling me this?”\n\n“Cause I figure you will tell everyone else? I'm kind of getting tired of you guys. Is there like a no call list?”\n\n“What did you wish for?”\n\n“Well last time I wished for enough money for a sandwich from this place.”\n\n“...”\n\n“So there is that.”\n\n“What in the actual Hell.”\n\n“Is there anything else I give you?”\n\n“..”\n\n“My fifth born?”\n\n“...”\n\n“No?”\n\n“Look, I’m just gonna go back now. You enjoy your sandwich. Which is apparently a Holy Object for you. Good, freakin’ bye.” I swear the sandwich is sulking. Never thought i’d see that\n\n“Hey, don’t knock it till you've tried a sandwich from here,” I shrug.\n\nI give it a moment to leave.\n\n“Ya still there.” I ask.\n\nI wait another moment. As i open my mouth to take a bite, i heard it again.\n\n“Why?”\n\nI pause.\n\n“Why what?”\n\n“Why can’t I leave?”\n\n“How would I know?” I shrug, “What I do know, is that I am going to eat you.”\n\nAs the I take a bite, I hear the sandwich say, “Well that figures”\n\nI do feel kinda bad for the guy. The after part is gonna be a bitch.\n\n\nOld writer, trying to get back into practice. Criticism welcome.\n\nEdit: Formating. First post.", "Batshit stank, and the cave was full of it.\n\nCaden shook his head, rubbed his eyes, and crawled along the floor, but he could not find his pack, nor the flashlight that might’ve fallen with him. And what if it hadn’t, he thought in panic, though the better question was, “How am I still alive?” He said this aloud and listened to the echo bounce across the cave’s lofty walls.\n\nBut how was he? “Careful of the ledge,” the guide had said. “No one goes down there, the place is overrun. Don’t lean over either, or the wind will pull you in. And it’s a thousand feet of air, or so we think.” He’d leaned over anyways, and...and what? If he closed his eyes and stood very still, he could hear the cries of his friends and the guide’s surprised grunt. Beyond that, he could not recall. Perhaps his head had hit a rock on the fall, though he would be dead if that were true. When he’d wiped there it had felt blood free.\n\n“Help,” Caden called once, twice, thrice, each time with less vigor and to no response. No one is coming, he realized. The guard had said as much. No one comes down, right? That meant nobody would come for him. The conclusion didn’t hurt as much as he would’ve thought. Then his foot wobbled on a rock or something far worse, but he found it was only his flashlight when he bent to pick it up. It clicked on, flickered, then set a flock of sleeping bats to flee an alcove of stone. “Thousand feet my ass,” called Caden. His voice echoed so loudly it left a ringing in his ears. Would anyone hear? Without that flashlight he would’ve been lost in dark; not even the faintest rays of light could be seen from above. And that tunnel had been well lit, Caden recalled. A lantern every few feet, a floodlight in the guide’s mannish hands. Even the tourists held some, especially the fathers with lights strapped about their foreheads.\n\nHe picked his way across a shit - lined earth and around the stalagmites that rose from the floor like a mouth of jagged teeth. The ground began to slope, slowly that it was barely noticeable, though at times it became so steep that Caden had to grip each stalagmite -- or stalactite if that was in range -- to delicately climb onto the next patch of flat land. Once, he thought he caught a glimpse of bone, a skeleton whose skull had become impaled upon a spike of rock. Was it though? It was hard to tell when it was this dark. But there had been red underneath that was unmistakably blood. Or was that iron in the dirt? He might’ve picked his way further when he heard a scream, even louder than his before. The ringing in his ears intensified. “Hello?” He wasn’t sure if he had spoken. His lips moved, that much he knew, but he heard no sound other than the pounding of his heart. \n\nThe return “hello” was so faint that Caden almost missed it. But if there was the slightest chance that someone was there, perhaps he still held a chance.\n\n“Hey, hello!” It was good to hear his voice, however faintly it rang behind a curtain of buzz.\n\n“Caden, is that you?” His girlfriend Emily staggered up to him, limping from a twisted ankle and no more than that. When she saw him, the edges of her lip curled in smile. “Thank God! I didn’t...I thought you were dead and I was alone down here and…”\n\n“I’m not dead, yet,” he said as he embraced her. “Why are you here?” He asked, though he thought he already knew the answer.\n\n“The wind. Why is there wind? Where is it coming from? What the Hell!” She shouted, her sentence punctuated by a vicious slash of her arm. “It smells like batshit.”\n\n“Yeah. There’s tons down here.”\n\n“That’s great.”\n\nCaden turned his flashlight from her face to show her the alcove where the bats had slept before. When he looked back, Emily was gone. “Emily!” His head pounded and his ears rang once more. He felt something warm trickle down his lobes and drip to his shoulders, but he dared not touch them. “Emily!” He shouted again. Was she just a part of my imagination? I am dehydrated, after all. But no, that wasn’t possible. He’d held her, held her to his chest, felt her breath tickle his cheeks, saw a smile only she could smile.\n\nThen the flashlight flickered off, or perhaps he’d dropped it. Either way, it had become too black that Caden couldn’t see his hands even when he held them a foot from his face. “Hello?” He called. “Emily!” His own voice echoed back, nothing else.\n\nHe stumbled in the dark for what seemed like days, though he knew that was not possible else he would not be alive. Then again, my even being here should be impossible. I should be dead, he told himself. He might’ve said it aloud -- and had tried too -- but by that point his throat was so parched that he found he could not speak. Yet as he walked, he thought he could see a light. Am I coming close to the surface? Perhaps it was sunrise, with red banners hovering over a horizon of trees.\n\nHe heard them before he saw them. “Succumb to us,” it hissed. “Consume us and be reborn,” it whispered, so quietly, such that Caden mistook it for the wind. Then see he did.\n\nEmily lay with her arms and legs spread, her chest impaled by a short stalagmite, her heart still beating at its tip. It glowed red and cast eerie shadows that seemed to move of their own accord. “Consume us,” it hissed.\n\nHe awoke the next morning with the covers drawn over his head and a film of sweat that coated his bared chest and legs. “A terrible,” he began to say. Dream? Had he dreamed? Then he shook his head and tipped his legs over the bed, to find a glass of water on his nightstand and that his alarm had not yet gone off. He shook his head and ran his tongue across chapped lips, reached for the glass to drink. Curiously, his mouth tasted of blood.\n\n***\n\n/r/Lone_Wolf_Studios for weekly stories and updates!", "I lowered the piece of toast from my mouth in shock. \n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"Succumb to us,\" it hissed. \"Consume us and be reborn...\" \n\nMy toast was talking. Or maybe I'm crazy. What's crazy is how good this toast looked despite the cryptic message I'd just received from it.\n\nThis wasn't some piece of sliced bread from a plastic bag off the shelves at Walmart. My small Arkansas town is home to a shining beacon of whole wheat goodness. Subiaco's Bakery, a family owned business devoted to one thing; bread and bread accessories. You could smell the enchanting richness emanating from that bakery while sitting at home and just thinking about the cast iron ovens that lined the back walls of the humble little shop. \n\nWe mostly just ignored the pentagram etched into welcoming mat. Also the old man running the store did make a few odd remarks here and there about some fellow named Lucifer. Sure, occasionally a local kid would go missing and if you asked him about it he'd just laugh until things got awkward and you walked away.\n\nYou'd be walking away with a loaf of wheat baked to the absolute peak of perfection though. This isn't sandwich bread, to tarnish the grained delight of this bread with a commoners condiment was blasphemy of the highest degree in our town. Paramount to devil worship and kidnapping. \n\n\"Reborn...\" hissed the toast, breaking my train of thought.\n\n\"It is your desti-\" Started the toast, only to be cut short when I chomped down on the slice of finely crafted natural fulfillment. Can't argue with toast I thought. And damn was it good." ]	[ 1, 2, 2, 8, 63 ]	[ "1500770111", "1500779316", "1500798201", "1500774652", "1500771667" ]
	[WP] You, The Infamous Grim Reaper, fell in love with and married a mortal, and now, after aging together, they are in their deathbed	3	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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 countless centuries of taking lives, I have finally found one worth keeping alive.. Nearly a century of protecting and watching her grow and now..\" Pulling an hour glass out of my pocket, personally engraved in a heart, I see that the sand is nearing the end of it's cycle. \"You knew this would happen, Grim.. No breaking rules anymore, no hesitation, the moment you walk into that room to greet her will be the final...\" Outstandingly, my legs won't move a few more steps. \"Ah... Mortality's marriage with death is incredibly tragic; it is incredibly ironic today if you will.\"\n\n\"Today, it's raining. Isn't it?\" I grip the handle.\n\nEver so reluctantly, I opened the door. My hollow sunken eyes squint at the brightness inside of the room. I frown, \"It used to be brighter, many years before you fell ill...\"\nNever so reluctantly has she ever greeted me with a smile brighter than the sun itself on it's warmest days. The silence of my approach broken with an ever so soothing voice I will grow to miss soon forever. \n\"It's time isn't it..?\"\n\"...\"\nHer gaze breaks away from mine and she musters the strength to look out of the window. \nImmediately, she speaks.\"I'd rather it be you.\" \nI shot back. \"Please, don't say that.\"\nShe turns back and her eyes reach mine once more.\n\"Hmm, you used to be the jealous type.\" She manages a a soft lighthearted giggle, almost youthful at that moment.\n\"You won't let something else take me away, won't you?\"\nMy mind wanders, to thoughts of the unknown. Thoughts of the once desired, though paradoxical. Death giving life? How I've wanted to make her happy, though these seeds of mine are no better than faulty.\n\"My one regret is that I could'n-\"\nShe replies, \"That's fine..\" Her breath now faint.\n\nIt must be done. This is my duty.\n\n\"Thank you for everything.\"" ]	[ 1, 4 ]	[ "1500773742", "1500780439" ]
	[WP] You've woken up, check the date, and look in the mirror to be sure. You've somehow gone back in time to your 18 year old self, memories and knowledge all intact.	3	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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", "In line with this, also interesting to imagine you wake up every morning not knowing WHEN it is in your life. You can wake up one day being 30 and the next being 7... The flow of time is mixed up.\nYou are the only one to be aware of this. Your experience carries over and so does your awareness of your future.\n\nAll you know is that you never wake up being older than 52, you start suspecting something happens at that point in time... you need to find out what and how to return time to a normal flow.\n\nAre you insane, are you dead, do you have some special power, was the flow of time disrupted by a cosmological event?" ]	[ 1, 2 ]	[ "1500791620", "1500793862" ]
[removed]	[WP]You and your wife both hate your mother in law (her mother) for being an ardent racist and basically a bad person. One day, you jokingly send a mail to darklordsatan@hotmail666.com reminding Satan that it is time he took your mother in law downstairs. You receive a reply.	3	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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 stared at the inbox, a single bead of sweat racing down my forehead. \n\nThis is impossible.\n\nBut there it was, a response signed:\n\nYours eternally,\nThe Dark Lord Lucifer, King of Hell, Commander of the Demon Hordes.\n\nMy wife walked into the room. I shut the laptop quickly. \n\n\"Uh...do I want to know what you were just doing?\"\n\nI think it was my pale face that told her I was innocent. \n\n\"H-Honey...I think we, uh, we haven't given your mom a good chance. Sh-She's fine, she's not that bad.\"\n\nMy wife had a strange look on her face. She walked over and reached for the laptop. I quickly put my hand on top and held it shut. \n\n\"Y-You don't want to do that.\"\n\nShe looked even more curious. Slowly, cautiously, she slid the computer out from my grip. She sat on the bed, opened it up, and put a hand to her mouth. \n\n\"Oh my God.\"\n\n\"I don't think he'd like you saying that,\" I mumble. \n\n\"Did you read it?\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" I reply. \"Or a least most of it. He's...organized. It's a special request form.\"\n\nMy wife spun the computer around. \n\n\"You filled out the application.\"\n\nI shifted uncomfortably. \n\n\"Yeah, but...it was a joke. It's gotta be a joke.\"\n\n\"But what if it isn't?\"\n\nI reached over and grabbed the computer. \n\n\"If it isn't a joke, we know what to do. Right?\"\n\n\"I-I guess.\"\n\nI took a deep breath. \n\nI hit send. " ]	[ 1, 3 ]	[ "1500818110", "1500819063" ]
	[WP] Whenever a baby is born, a machine predicts the baby's net worth to society. Your newborn child's net worth reads: -$1 trillion.	226	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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 GHD envelope was placed carefully in the brochures given by the nurse in the hospital. Its seal was broken and the only person who had read that envelope was changing the fifth diaper this day. She was thinking of her last fight, just before the wedding, with mom who was upset when she decided to marry Jack. Her parents had invested most heavily in her education, ahead of her siblings, so that she can fulfill her destiny and pull the family out of poverty. She had dropped from her college in the second year to marry an alcoholic 30 year old divorced soon-to-be-bankrupt but handsome man, Jack. \n\nHer mother didn't show any curiosity when the nurse handed her the GHD envelope before discharge. Her mother was not impressed why she had wasted five dollars on this, when they didn't have enough money for even the diapers for a month. \n\nJack need to come back home after this weekend with the deal finalized otherwise she would need to use the newspaper fir diaper from the next week. But she was confident that Jack will make it. \n\nShe was still whether not sure whether to tell Jack about the GHD prediction. Should she tell him that all their worries will be coming to an end. He certainly would believe her. But maybe that is his flaw too. Gaining 80% net worth before Jack met her and had already given away the half in alimony. But he would believe that their baby would one day become a 'trillionaire'.\nBut then what next? Would they be turning like her parents next and be disapointed that he just had a normal life.", "He grew up to be the most reckless super \"hero\" of all time. He cost our city millions, and our country the rest. \n\nLaser eyes, super strength, and an absolute klutz. Wouldn't you know. ", "You barely had time to process the outlandish figure when the hospital room door burst off of its hinges. Through it hurtled a large man in a black suit, wearing dark sunglasses and an earpiece, bowling over the nurse as he scooped up little Reggie. A quick pivot and he dodged the doctor's lunge, tearing off through the open door on the opposite side of the room. Finally snapping into action when instinct took over from your stalled mind, the linoleum floor issued a loud squeak as you dashed after him. \"HEY YOU CAN'T DO THIS THAT'S MY BABY,\" the new reality of the words sinking in as you bellowed them out. \"GET BACK HE--\"\nYour protest was abruptly cut off as another large, darkly bespectacled man in a dark suit hammered into you from the intersecting passage. And then the babysnatcher was approaching the end of the third floor hallway, where a warm sitting room was located, enjoying a shower of natural light through its large windows. He barely slowed as he shifted into a running kick and punted the baby through one of these windows. Then put an index finger to his earpiece, and said \"Yes, sir. Yes. The situation has been resolved, sir.\"", "\"No, that can't be.\" i said as the number showed up on the screen.\"this machine should probably be checked. No existing human had that net worth to society, so why should my child?\" the doctor ran the machine again. The same results. \"Sir, i need to make a report. This has to be written down.\" said the doctor, with the surprise still visible on his now turned pale face. \"Please write down something different in the report, i said as i wanted my child to live a normal life.\n\nThank god he did. \n\nLater down the road, Aiden, our child, was 4 years old, and we saw people with worths of 2 billion becoming CEO's, investors and bankers. We wanted Aiden to do whatever he wanted to do and we knew he could. So, what did he do? He became a scientist, and helped revolutionized teleportation and transport. His. Worth became true, and so proud are we.", "One \nEight\nOne\nEight\n\nThat is the year my child was born. If i had known what he would cause, what he would do i would've eaten the grass to kill a babe in the mothers womb. \n\nA May baby they said, May baby's are good children, intelligent they said. \n\nI should've questioned the seer more then i had. When that machine popped out that slip of paper, i should've noticed the seer tearing of the first part of the paper.\n\nThe number my child would cause the world to gain or lose had so many zero's the seer let a audible gasp, but because i was a wealthy woman the seer wanted to keep me happy she left out the negative that lead the number. \n\nWho would've thought that my young child's name would become one of such infamy and hatred. Marx would become a name used by millions of idiots to attempt to make a better world, uncaring of the past failures. \n\nedit, i goofed and made a serious mistake in the story because of a brain fart, i fixed it", "My heart melted when her tiny hand grabbed my index finger. She giggled, little blue eyes following every movement of mine. I placed a kiss on her forehead, “Dear Kelly, please be a better one.” \n\nMy oldest son, James, who was 11 years old, stormed into the nursery room:”Mom! Is the food ready yet? Me and Clark are huuuuungry!” \n\n“Sweetie, Mom has to give Kelly a bath and put her to sleep first. Can you heat some TV dinner for you and your brother?” \n\n“Ugh,” He rolled his eyes, “Frozen food again? Can’t a millionaire eat something better than that? I want pizza! Fresh delivered ones!” \n\nI massaged my temples with my thumb and index finger, my Husband Ted and I are by no means can be considered as rich. Regardless, James has a predicted net worth of $445 million and Clark has $600 million net worth when they were babies. I didn’t know how to explain to James that huge amount of money is not going to happen to him in one night. Me and Ted together only have the social net worth of $5 million per IRS - Internal-value Recognition System, a machine that weight every newborn's net contribution to the society. The IRS was invented to balance out the rich and poor gap, calm the activists down by directly telling everyone’s real worthies. \n\nAfter putting Kelly to sleep, I checked Clark’s math homework. He submitted the random numbers to the computer quiz and received an F again. \n\n“Why don’t you repeat the class if you don’t understand the question? The AI teacher is not going away.” \n\n“For what? I’m going to get so much money that I’m just going to pay people and machines to do my work.” Clark shrugged and ran away before I could grab him back to sit in front of his study VR.\n\nThe door clicked. I dragged my tired legs to the living room and saw Ted, who looked happier than usual. \n\n“Hi sweetie, you are home early! I just get a call from IRS. Kelly’s net worth is out!” Ted said. \n\nI wish I could be as exciting as him, “Alright. How many millions of value our third kid is going to be?” \n\n“Guess.” His eyes twinkled. \n\nI covered my mouth, “Are you serious? 1 billion?” \n\nTed shook his head, revealed a mysterious smile. “It’s negative, negative one trillion dollars!” \n\nI was shocked. Our precious baby girl has the negative value? How could that be? Why has my idiot husband looked so happy about this bad news! \n\nI shook my head, “No way, they must get that wrong!” \n\n“I’ve confirmed with them a million times,” Ted said, “It’s true. And we should be happy for it.” \n\n“Are you kidding me? Who is going to love my kid beside us in the future? Everyone is going to bully her and she is going to have a life long hard time! She is never going to be successful, happy and achieve all her dreams like her brothers do, my poor baby…” My eyes started filling with tears, my heart was shattered in pieces. \n\nTed gently pulled me into his hug and placed kisses on my head, “It’s fine, it’s fine, really. The machine added a new program that aims to fix its old loopholes. You see how telling our kids their future worth does to them? They stopped working hard and take everything for granted. The new IRS rules require we scan our value every year - because our value to society changes!” \n\n“You, you mean our net worth is not fixed anymore?” \n\n“Yes, because there are so many changing variables in one’s life, nothing can be for sure. If you were destined to be a millionaire, but you stopped putting any effort to become one, then your value would be decreased and you might not become a millionaire after all. It’s a simple concept.” \n\n“I wish this IRS thought of this when it first publish its stupid program!” \n\n“They are fixing it. You see, IRS is determined to tell all newborn generations that their value is negative, but they still have a chance to come back, and their effort was to compound. It’s not that hard to bring their value back to zero and then positive. The IRS is teaching them the most important lesson of life: you have to earn your worthy and don’t cheat on the system.” \n\nI nodded, slightly relieved for my daughter. But then I thought about my two boys, who have been thinking they are going to be rich without doing anything in their life all along. My head started aching again. Oh, my poor, poor children. ", "It was cold, it was wet. The wind and rain would not let up, but Jake dare not try to go back to society. He clutched his child to his chest, trying to keep it dry and warm. The tent they managed to put up was barely keeping out the rain, but it seemed the whole world was wet, and that wetness seemed to permeate, even through the water proof material that surrounded them.\n\nThe baby started to cry.\n\n“Oh please don’t cry, not now!” Jake pleading, begging the baby to hush as he gently rocked it. He knew what the problem was, it was hungry. Irene would be back shortly, he hoped. She had to be back shortly. “Mommy will be back soon, and then you can eat, okay?” his pleading voiced begged for that to be enough for the baby.\nHe cowered as another car drove by, this one was going slow again, a spot light following the contour of the road below where he was hiding. They were still looking it seemed, but they hadn’t thought to check up here yet. Good, they were safe, maybe for another day.\n\nHe heard rustling nearby and turned, partly in fear, partly in hope, to see Irene cresting the hill. She had a small sack of what he could only hope was food, but his eyes beelined to her bosom, full of milk that the little baby needed. It was amazing how quickly things changed in times of crisis.\n\nIrene looked at him and smiled, it seemed to have been a good scavenging trip. She produced some bread and a few bottles of water, refilled, no doubt. “How is Tom?” she asked. Jake just offered the baby to her, and it immediately started rooting, looking for the food it knew was there.\n\nThe mention of the baby’s name brought back the memories. Jake saw the baby go through the Value Estimator. He and Irene had been doing fairly well at life, so certainly their baby would have a good estimate. It was a shock, complete and utter shock, when the value came back negative. And the scale, the scale was just astounding. Negative one trillion. Jake pushed the number through his head again, recounted the zeroes for the fiftieth time in his mind. The doctors said it was clearly an error, the machine was known to make a mistake every once in a while, and ran the scan again. The second time sealed their fate, it stayed at negative one trillion.\n\nThe doctor was muted, but continued providing care, it wasn’t for a few hours that things started going funny. Someone from the government showed up and left. Jake couldn’t help but notice the firearms in the mans jacket. When the man stepped out for a moment, Jake made the decision that it was time for them to leave, and Irene agreed.\n\nSince then they’d been on the run, flitting from place to place. Somewhere along the line they had picked up this tent, but all their funds and credit cards were being monitored, they had to go completely off the grid, which was nearly impossible in this day and age.\n\nAs Nate ate some of the bread, he didn’t want to ask Irene where she had gotten it from, he thought about their predicament. They’d probably have to move again tomorrow. They’d been holed out here for a few days. They’d never been able to stay in the same place for more than five days without getting noticed. For sure, tomorrow they’d have to find somewhere else to hide.\n\nThis system was ridiculous, guessing people’s value to society as their born. How could a world be built on such a system? Didn’t people have choices they could make in their lives? Jake and Irene sure had ridden a wave of success based on their impressive numbers. Jake was over ten million, and Irene was over a billion, but having a son with negative one trillion. One thing was for sure, this system had to end, his son would not grow up in a world where his fate was decided for him, not if it meant this.\n\n[697 words]", "I make adverts. It’s what I was born to do. Net worth at birth: 412.6 billion. I’m a big player in the world of marketing. I have written guides for young entrepreneurs trying to make a brand for themselves. I’ve helped giant companies sprawl their advertising slogans across the world. I’ve made catch phrases that found their way into the collective psyche. People who write about what I do say I have a deep understanding of the human psychology. That doesn’t even begin to explain it.\n\nIn the mind, there is a trigger that makes people want to buy a product. It’s this wow-factor that you have to poke and prod with advertisements until the world thinks that product is the ultimate accessory to their lives. They envy people with it, they want their own. The pure force of their willpower is astonishing, shaping entire generations to be followers of products. Cars, cigarettes, anything can be addictive with the right effect applied. I write little pieces that people read and they don’t even know what I’m doing to them. In seven hundred words I can change your views on eggs, and you won’t realize you’ve changed until you’re in a supermarket and you skip over the medium sized ones and buy jumbo. I can talk to people in any format to get my advertisements across. That’s part of my abilities. I can also design billboards and write commercial scripts and develop slogans for the world.\n\nThe easiest slogans have puns. For some hot dogs, I could write a slogan that went, “Hot diggity dog, these barbecue wieners are real winners!” and sales would double in a month. But the fun ones pick and pry at the human brain. “Sub sandwiches you’d sell your mother to an Asian dog-catcher for,” or something like that. I’m not going to give you a real slogan now because a lot of effort goes into these sorts of things, and I’m not going to sell any trade secrets for someone like you, but the point remains. Slogans are king.\n\nI married just before retiring and my wife is in the complimentary business to my advertising, statistics. She counts the numbers and I make them rise. We’re a dynamic duo and one of Forbe’s top power couples in 2066. She knows the chances our baby will have a high net worth at birth are incredibly high. It’s just a matter of how high, at this point.\n\nWhen the baby was born, my brother was attending. He was acting strange and carrying around that new calculator he’s been obsessing over. He wants me to look at it, as if it has anything I could ever need written on the display. He says it takes the psychology of advertising campaigns and spins it on its head. The advertisement is predictable in its effect on the human mind, he says, and this effect can be reversed. He’s even gone so far as publicly calling me a slave driver. He seems to think the whole world are sheep being driven by dogs in the marketing sector. Our pushing and pulling on the world economy is unethical, he says.\n\nWhen my wife held our beautiful baby, my brother came in for the net worth at birth calculation. When the tragic figure ran by, he said one thing. He said, “it’s the chosen one.”\n\nI didn’t know what to say, for once.", "I never really cared for the technology, and neither did my wife. \n\nWe were having a baby. Our _first_ baby. That's enough anticipation, I think. It's one of if not the most profound moments of one's life.\n\nBut the technology was cheap, and a quarter of a century being on the market was enough time to prove its bizarre reliability. It was now part of the culture. The government had all sorts of provisions and regulations ready to fire once we knew. \n\nOnce we knew our child's future net worth. Yes, it was now possible. A machine executing several sophisticated neural scans and a bone marrow biopsy could extrapolate a baby's future net worth. It could be done in an hour.\n\nSome critics claim, loudly, we had turned babies into lottery tickets. My wife and I tend to agree, but truth be told, we weren't thinking about it. We were thinking about the million other things parents worry about. Getting our finances in check, eating right, reading literature on how to raise a freaking kid. How to create life without fucking it up. What his name was gonna be. How a heart could at once crush and expand the whole world over imagining those beautiful eyes. That's what we were thinking about. We weren't thinking about our baby's net worth.\n\nBut the technology was cheap. It was part of the culture.\n\nMy wife all in all was in labor for eight hours. It was grueling. The baby was just not coming. She looked like she was about to die. And it scared me. I'm not one to get sick, but my stomach turned about ten times that long night, watching my wife, holding her hand, trying to calm her while I hardly could. It seems silly to say I was strong for her because she was the one, really. I did my best as my nerves fired all at once, trying to be cool. Telling her to breathe. \n\nAnd the baby, our Joey, caked in the shock of infancy, afterbirth and blood was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. He felt like, to hold him, like a piece of God himself. And to see my wife smile, holding him as the mother she was always meant to be? It killed me when they took Joey away to the machine. It killed me and it killed her. She lied there pale and drained. How much women sacrifice for this world, I understand now.\n\nI told her a joke. I said, \"I can tell, Joey's gonna be solid middle class, I'm telling you.\" It was an old joke of ours. And she was supposed to say, \"Enough money to pay the bills and nothing else, like the good ol days.\" Stupid joke. Our joke. She was too tired to complete it. I said it for her, stroking the sweat of her neck.\n\nThe hour passed, and it was time for Joey and our nurse to re-join us. Yet when she did, she was flanked by two staff members we hadn't met before, and without Joey. My new father-sense sprung up. My neck stiffened with apprehension. See, I knew something was wrong. \n\nThey said, quietly so as to not disturb my wife, \"Joey is doing fine, and we'll be bringing him in shortly,\" which is the kind of thing that should have calmed me down, but not with how she was saying it. She was speaking with a bizarre tentativeness, and regarding me almost suspiciously. I looked to my wife, who apparently had taken this at face value. All she heard was, \"Joey is doing fine.\" She nodded, her eyes closed.\n\nThe nurse said briskly, \"Can we speak to you outside?\" The staff behind her were uncomfortable.\n\nI grunted. \"I'll be right back,\" I kissed my wife's cheek. Her heat radiated an inch above her.\n\nShe murmured, \"I love you. Bring me Joey.\" I told her I would, and I left her to speak with the nurse.\n\nWe didn't go far. In the hall, under those awful fluorescent lights, she said, \"Now, we'd like to do some more tests just to make sure, but the analysis is complete and the result is generally considered reliable,\" her tone was exactly that of the undertaker that embalmed my father, \"Joey is predicted to be worth negative one trillion dollars.\"\n\nI nodded dumbly.\n\n\"Past negative one hundred thousand, we're mandated to provide you psychiatric help and to co-ordinate with law enforcement to establish 24/7 monitor of both you and your wife. I'm sorry. We have to protect the safety of the child.\"\n\n\"Are you saying I would kill Joey?\" I found myself saying.\n\n\"No! No, no, but it's a shocking result,\" she was nervous now, stammering over her words, \"And we're simply following the framework in place here to establish a baseline of support for you and your family.\"\n\nShe stopped, wide-eyed. I realized she had brought along the staff for me. My fists were clenched like rocks. I considered fuck all and knocking her one. Negative one trillion dollars. I realized, I couldn't even understand how much money that was. I heard somewhere, my highschool teacher saying _the human brain cannot comprehend such scales._ And that Joey would be a highschooler too one day. \n\nWith that number hanging over his head. \n\nI let go, and slumped against the wall to weep for Joey and for this world and for my wife and for me. I wept until I heard his sharp as diamond cry from down the hall, as they carried him to me. I held onto him as a piece of my heart. My doomed heart. My newfound fatherhood flickering in the dark.\n\n\"Go away,\" I croaked. But they could not, they said. I understood, but I said it again. And I said it again, and kissed my baby's forehead; they watched. I said it to Joey, I whispered it. I brought him into the room to my wife, who sighed on seeing us; they followed. \n\nI gently laid Joey into my wife's arms, and I kissed her long on her forehead and stroked her hair. \"What a beautiful boy,\" she sung, rasping with her labor passed. And I agreed. I agreed and I was so sure I would never tell them the result, until I felt the hospital staff present in the room. Their quiet, professional gaze on my back.\n\n\n", "I remember when it happened. \n\nI was so exited, my wife and I had rushed to the hospital when her water broke. The baby wasn't due for another 2 weeks! We where ready though, we had an emergency route and everything. \n\nI got behind the steering wheel of our white ford F-250 and drove like a madman down the dirt road between our house and the main street.\n\nOnce I got to the highway I drove like a madman, swerving in and out of traffic. I was going well above 80 mph in a 60, but who cares? I was about to have a baby!!\n\nOnce we got to the hospital we went through the entire process. My wife was rushed to a delivery room, appointed a nurse and doctor, and .... well I'll spare you the gory details.\n\nRight after the birth we where told the baby's sex. We had a girl! Isn't that great? Next where the regular check ups: Disease predisposition DNA checks, future mental disorder checks, etc... \n\nFinally after a several hours the most important check of all was due, the \"Social Capital\" test. \n\nNow the thing to remember about the SCT is that it doesn't really measure how successful or wealthy your child will be, just how much they benefit society. This is why Children that are worth a lot generally become teachers, they teach skills to other people, which increases the economy as a whole. The result of the SCT test is highly personal though, and the only people to know it are you and your parents, and you don't even get the right to see yours until you're 18! Until then your parents are the only ones that know.\n\nWell my Daughter, Edna, that's what we decided to call her, my Daughter Edna's result made me gasp. Negative ONE Trillion dollars. F*ck. I was dumbfounded, all of her other tests where relatively normal. She had a predisposition to breast cancer, but that was to be expected, both grandmothers where breast cancer survivors. No sociopathic tendencies, how could she be so negative to society?\n\nWhen I told my wife she was shocked, but she was a computer scientist, so she asked me one question: \n\n\"Honey, how many Bytes does the machine use to represent a child's worth?\"\n\n\"Uhhh... I don't know... what does that mean honey?\"\n\n\"It determines how big a number the machine can represent. Just google it Idiot!\"\n\nOkay, she kind of has a right to be testy, I'll give her this one. So I googled it.\n\n\"5 Bytes Jam\"\n\n\"Ok, go get the results and look at the overflow flag\"\n\n\"The what?\"\n\n\"JUST DO IT!!!\"\n\n\"Okay, Okay.... jeezus woman calm down\"\n\nI whent to the doctor, got the official document and read it\n> Net Social Capital : -1099511627775\n\n> Overflow Byte : 1\n\nI rushed back to her.\n\n\"Honey, the overflow Byte is 1, what does that mean!\"\n\nShe immediately started screaming in jubilation, kissed me, nut taped me, and kissed me again\n\n\"The biggest number you can store inside a 5 byte \"container\" is around 1 trillion, so if you go above that the container \"overflows\" and circles around to the next number, a negative number. If the overflow flag is 1 that means our daughter's Social Net Worth is worth more then 1 Trillion Dollars!! \"\n\nI was amazed, speechless. What was my daughter to become? A President? A world changing Scientist?............\n\n\n\n\nI'm 80 now, and me and my wife are extremely proud of our daughter. She's the Host of a Kids TV show:\n\nMs. Rodgers' Neighborhood\n", "\"Check it again, please.\" \n\nNo one moved, even though I was very sure that they had heard me. The nurse I could forgive - she looked like she was new on the job, still with that spritely and cheerful demeanour. I doubted if she had attended to more than five births, at this point. \n\nThe doctor I had less sympathy for. He was the professional here. He should know what needed to be done, and he should have been the one guiding me, leading me, not the other way around. \n\n\"Dr Stevens,\" I repeated, as I stepped forward, fists balled. \"Please, check it again.\"\n\nHe obeyed this time, typing his authorization code into the command panel, eyes darting away to avoid mine. I heard Sara stir from the bed behind me, but I figured it would be sometime before she overcame the medication. \n\n\"Not a mistake,\" Dr Stevens said. I saw my newborn daughter yawn, defenceless, oblivious. The blanket swaddling her was so thick that I doubt she even realised she had been placed in the cold receptacle of the Assessor. \"I'm running this test for the third time, and the score is what it is. I'm sorry, but you know what the law requires us to do. Really, I'm sorry.\"\n\nThe numbers continued to flash on the monitor hooked up to the Assessor. Unfortunately, I knew Dr Stevens was right.\n\nThe numbers did not lie. \n\nThe inventors of the Assessor had bided their time to announce their creation to the public. Knowing that they would face intense scrutiny, they had engaged multiple independent third-party auditors to corroborate their discovery. I remembered how the stage for the press conference had been filled with a dozen reputable names, all swearing that the data meticulously collected over five decades showed the same thing. \n\nThat the Assessor could, with no more than a 0.1% margin of error, determine a newborn's net worth to society. Calculated from the time they took their first breath, to when their hearts beat for the last time, the Assessor counted their contributions, subtracted their burdens, then presented a final score. \n\nIt's just that I had never seen a score of negative $1 trillion before. \n\n\"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to step away,\" said Dr Stevens. \"As of now, under Article 6 of the Assessor Statute, your child is now a ward of the state for having a net score in excess of negative $1 million.\"\n\nThat didn't stop me from advancing towards him. I wasn't sure yet what I would do, where I would go, but still my feet carried me forward. \n\n\"I don't care,\" I said. \"There's a margin of error, you know that.\"\n\n\"Yes, but we've run the Assessment three times now,\" he said. \n\n\"So let me hold her while you run the test again,\" I said. \"Surely a father can hold his newborn?\" \n\n\"I can't let you do that. Nurse! Call for security, now!\" \n\nA number of things happened in the few seconds afterwards. \n\nI saw the nurse, whose face had long turned ashen and despondent, smash the emergency button next to the Assessor. In truth, there was no need to do so. All scores were fed instantaneously to the main servers, and I would have bet a hundred to one that security was already on its way, ready to take over custody of my daughter, do whatever it was they needed to do. \n\nI also saw Dr Stevens plant himself between me and my daughter, hands held up as he snarled. We had chosen him because we knew his history, knew that he had two children of his own lost to the state for abysmal scores. Sara and I had joked that if ever our child turned out Negative, maybe Dr Stevens would turn a blind eye, or have some advice for us. It seemed that I would have to tell Sara that we were wrong. \n\nI also found that I had picked up the pitcher of water off the side table, and had swung it overhead, straight for Dr Steven's head. The water cascaded down noisily, sprinkling like a newly loosed font. My priority was to get my daughter out of there, everything else would follow. \n\nThe door also burst open then, and the \"Stop!\" was so authoritative, so commanding that we all froze where we were. \n\nAt the door was a lone man, cap pulled low. I thought he had overalls on, but I couldn't see clearly, on account of all the babies strapped to him. I counted five of them, two on his back, two in front, one cradled in his left arm. They were in various states of distress, shrieking at the tops of their voices. \n\n\"I'll take it from here,\" he said, as he grinned. \"I have no idea what's going on today, but six babies? All in one day? Each with a net score of negative $1 trillion? Something big is on the way, for sure.\"\n\nHe muscled past me, scooped my daughter up from the Assessor. He moved as if he didn't even feel Dr Stevens in his way. His single free hand, outstretched, was more than enough to send the poor doctor barrelling backwards into the wall. \n\n\"You'll hear from us soon,\" he said. \"Going to have to bring them all back, figure out what the heck is going on. My boss will be in contact with you.\"\n\n\"Wait!\" I yelled. \"Who are you!\" \n\nThe alarms had started ringing, and I was aware of thick-soled boots trampling down the corridor. The calvary was arriving. \n\n\"I'm no-one,\" he said. \"But my boss, he calls himself the Recruiter these days. You know? The same guy who created this damn machine? We'll be in touch.\"\n\nHe crossed the room, picked up my daughter, brushed past the nurse, kicked open the window, and leapt. \n\nAnd, if my eyes were to be believed, he flew away. \n\n---\n\n/r/rarelyfunny \n" ]	[ 1, 1, 2, 3, 3, 4, 5, 6, 6, 17, 78, 107 ]	[ "1500852741", "1500873536", "1500872260", "1500867010", "1500872549", "1500858337", "1500884055", "1500858407", "1500866508", "1500858558", "1500857047", "1500860405" ]
[removed]	[WP] the secret behind your success? Every time a mod removed your WP you got angry and wrote a bestseller. But now you're famous and they praise your every post as new, insightful and innovative.	0	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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,\n\nI've removed this prompt. Prompts go in the title and you've got a fair amount of extra elaboration outside of the title. We also don't like meta prompts. I understand you probably intended this with a bit of humor, but mods are volunteers working for a community and get a fair amount of harassment when people disagree.\n\nSend us a modmail if you have questions." ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1500924082", "1500924965" ]
	[WP] You are one of two short men masquerading as one tall man to get a basketball scholarship	11	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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", "In unison we achieve, the thing we dreamt we both could be,\n\nA storm razing through the lands, our ball bouncing in our hands.\n\nCould the fame and praise we seek, all but foul at our feet?\n\nWhat if dreams alone could mend, a full court of dribbling men\n\nDodging left, then right, then aft, all our talent to the test\n\nThe last buzzer might arrive, through the court of men we strive\n\nIt's a loss we must defend! See the board it's at it's end!\n\nDig in deep, the end is neigh! Feel the sweat of now or die!\n\nSwooping low it's time to dunk... maybe we should have tried this stunt...\n\nSeparate across the mid! Now they see our failing trick...", "Sam: Wait...you can't be the one on top. You're white. \n\nMike: What? So?\n\nS: So, we have a better chance if I was up top.\n\nM: Sam. You're white, too. \n\nS: Yeah but I'm a little darker. I can just buzz my hair and I can pass off as mixed or something.\n\nM: Why don't you just put on blackface, then.\n\nS: I thought that was frowned upon? \n\nM: Look, black or white doesn't matter. There are plenty of good white players out there. We just need to be convincing, and I think I can act better than you can. \n\nS: Well...\n\nM: Plus you're stronger. I'm not gonna be able to hold you up.\n\nS: Fine. We'll try it out that way. \n\nM: Okay good. Now...what's our name going to be?\n\nS: Kareem obviously.\n\nM: Why.\n\nS: For obvious reasons.\n\nM: Look we're gonna be like the tallest player ever. We need a low key name that doesn't attract attention. How about Michael Samuels?\n\nS: How about Sam Michaels?\n\nM: Fine, that works. Okay, so do you have any ideas on how we're gonna hide your head.\n\nS: Yes. It's going to be the bulge. \n\nM: The bulge...huh.\n\nS: Yeah, your package. It's the perfect height for it. And I've thought this through. You can leave the fly open a little bit and I can see through it. I think it works perfectly. \n\nM: Actually... That's not a bad idea. Plus it'll make us look more, you know, athletic.\n\nS: Def.\n\nM: Okay, so that's about all I have on my list right now. Let's go practice some ball.\n\nS: You think you can finally make a free throw?\n\nM: I can definitely get closer than you can.\n\nS: Haha no way! You got the ball?\n\nM: Nah, but I got a soccer ball we can play with. " ]	[ 1, 2, 3 ]	[ "1500935446", "1500951909", "1500937778" ]
	[WP] Sure, just punch God in the face. That will turn out fantastic!	21	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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", "Seth whirled around snarling at me. \"IT'S HIS FAULT THAT MY SISTER IS DEAD, LUKE,\" he screamed, saliva bursting from his mouth; his words echoing through the vast nothingness where god resides. \n\n\"Yeah, she won't be the only one facing oblivion if you punch the creator of the goddamn universe,\" Luke yelled in response. \"Besides, he already flooded earth once, he'll do it again, do you really want to be remembered as the dude who pissed God off?\"\n\n\"It'd be worth it,\" turning back around to meet his maker at a meandering pace. \n\n\"Killing everyone on earth would be worth the thirty seconds of satisfaction you'd get from punching god, and then being incinerated on the spot. If you even got that far,\" Luke mused. He walks calmly towards Seth, attempting not to be caught in the path of his murderous rage. \"Besides, punching him wouldn't bring your sister back.\"\n\n\"What else do you expect me to do? Huh? What the fuck else do you expect me to do,\" Seth spat. \"She's been gone for-\"\n\n\"Five years. I know,\" I mutter, trying to sneak closer to Seth while his back is turned.\n\n\"Fuck off,\" he mutters. \n\nIf he keeps his back turned for a little longer...maybe I can take him out. I knew this was a stretch, as Seth far outweighs me, and is at least a foot taller than me, but it was definitely worth a shot, so I step closer quietly. \n\n\"Why would I just abandon my best friend as he decides to go punch god? That seems like it's breaking some bro code,\" I say sarcastically. \"Besides, isn't it my job to at least attempt to keep you out of, TROUBLE!\" I manage to tackle the bigger boy's legs, but the mammoth teen wouldn't fall. \n\nSeth wobbles out of control, screaming as he flails on his way down to the ground before my head falls directly underneath Seth's ass, killing me. " ]	[ 1, 3 ]	[ "1500945557", "1500954256" ]
	[WP] You and your brother are tag-team pro wrestlers known for using tables, ladders, and chairs in creatively destructive ways. While shopping for furniture at IKEA, you meet your rivals.	53	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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", "\"Hey, watch it!\" exclaimed Jack who bumped into another man of a similar size to him. As he looked up, he realized he was staring into the dull grey eyes of his greatest saboteur.\n\n\"You are the one who should better watch out when I beat you up with these bad boys next week, Admiral Sterling\" growled John, more widely known as Dirk Assasin.\n\n\"Hahaha, my OMSORD will totally beat your SLUGGER!\" Jack shouted enthusiastically as he picked up a bag of wheels and pointed towards John's shoe tree rack which he held up on one of his hands.\n\nJohn started to casually push around a large and heavy sink bowl. \"My BRÅVIKEN will take care of that easily, plus my ARÖD will definitely outdo your SLUGGER.\" John said as he placed a large white lamp on top of his BRÅVIKEN.\n\n\"We'll see about that, next week.\" growled Jack.\n\nBoth John and Jack turn their backs against each other triumphantly as they went their ways in the never ending labyrinth of IKEA.", "....AND NEXT WEEK, AT WRESTLEMANIA, I'LL BE FLATPACKING YOUR CORPSE INTO A FLATPACK COFFIN!\n\nThe crowd had gathered quickly in the IKEA bedroom department, and these days, with all the phone cameras and such, the world's press may has well have arrived. Which, of course, was what IKEA was counting on when they hired my brother and I, and our rivals in for a publicity stunt. It made total sense. Me and Jake were the Furious Flatpackers, with a long reputation for combining furniture into a playpark of destruction and entertainment. Our great rivals, although close in real life, were The Lumberjack and Hacksaw Bim Juggan (legally distinct of course) who's heel routine was to saw up or damage our contructions to make them more dangerous for us to jump off.\n\nWELL, I'M NOT WAITING FOR THE MAIN EVENT, FLATPACK FOOL! I'MA CHOP YOU DOWN TO SIZE NOW!\n\nMy reverie was interupted by the script reaching the point at which the grapple would commence. The 4 of us dropped into our familar poses and engaged. I opened with a traded sequence of punches, a groin kick to Bim, and then a standard Stone Cold Stunner. I loved the classics.\n\nThe Lumberjack and my brother much prefered to adlib. They'd been fighting each other for coming on 10 years now, and in some ways their understanding was even better than ours.\n\nClearly they'd seen an opportunity for a bonus publicity move, bringing the IKEA furniture into play. The Lumberjack was flying off an armchair.\n\nELBOW DROP OFF AN EKTORP!\n\nMy brother countered, wrapped him up and went for a powerbomb.\n\nI'M GONNA BUST YA THROUGH THE BJURSTA! he shouted.\n\n\"NNNOOOOOOO!\" I shouted, all pretence and wrestler voice dropped.\n\nThe crack was sickening. The silence deafening.\n\nBjursta tables are surprisingly well made.\n\n_________________________________________________________\n\n/r/TallerestTales" ]	[ 1, 2, 7 ]	[ "1500952055", "1500982830", "1500980053" ]
	[WP] You live in a society where only one birth and one death are allowed per day.	6	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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 already destined to be a dark day. Today was the first day that twins would be delivered following the ordinance limiting births and deaths to one per day. \n\nIt was destined to fail, and fail it would, but for the time being those of us who lived under the rule would know nothing short of complete desolation. Nobody was declared dead until authorized by the faction leaving hospitals overwhelmed with decaying bodies piled in hallways awaiting their official tags. If you were lucky, you had the first birth of the day and were allowed to keep your child - the remaining newborns shoved mercilessly into nondescript bags and lopped at the end of the long line of deceased.\n\nIt was truly a dystopia at a time that used to be filled with joy.\n\nWe had scheduled a c-section for three days from now. Fate would present a darker burden to bare; this morning my wife went into labor. It was nearing midnight the day's child had already been born. \n\n\"Aaaaaaaah!\" My wife wailed in a determined grunting scream. It shook me from my self pity. I could see the excruciating pain with each contraction as she fought the urge to push. 12 more minutes and we could save the first one. This child was determined to enter the world though. Despite her best efforts, my first born was delivered. I glanced at the clock willing it to move faster as the legs slipped out, but to no avail.\n\nThe doctor glanced at the clock. \"Time of birth at twenty three hours fifty eight\". An armed nurse walked in and with an emotionless gesture grabbed the child by one leg and lowered it into a dark bag labeled 'Bio-Waste'. I stood in shock watching the plastic coffin still move as it was deposited into the reclaimed garbage chute now specifically for unauthorized births. \n\nThe doctor shoved my shoulder and stared me in the eye. \"Come on man, we can still save the second one. I need you to get her focused on pushing and I'll get this baby out.\" I nodded in approval.\n\nThe next twenty minutes were a blur. I whispered my love into the ear of my wife as she waited for the next contraction then quickly urged her with hushed encouragements as she struggled to void herself of our child. The doctor looked me in the eye again. This time I could see he was smiling behind his mask by the way his skin crinkled by his eyes. \"The head is out\" he exclaimed with joy.\n\nFor a moment I wasn't sure what was happening as time seemed to stand still. It seemed too perfectly tragic to be plausible. As if death synchronized his agonizing blows, a newborn babies cry was heard from the room beside ours while another armed nurse stood outside our door opening a fresh bag.\n\n\"Time of birth zero hours and fifteen minutes.\"", "\"He's dead.\", Benson said.\nFor a moment, the room went silent. The calm before the storm. Benson looked back at the others. He always appeared to be stuck between a shrug and smirk, but now, one knee on the ground next to the corpse, even he was out of answers.\n\n\"But someone already...\", Narissa began, but the state attorney shushed her.\n\n\"This can't get out.\" The usual confidence in her voice was gone.\n\nBenson looked at his watch. 7pm.\n\n\"5 hours?\", Benson asked her.\n\nThe state attorney checked for the time on her own watch.\n\n\"5 hours. And then as long as you can.\"\nShe turned.\n\n\"I've got to talk to the mayor. We've got to delay tomorrow's death somehow.\"\n\n\"Boss? You want me to look into this?\", Benson asked her, before she could reach the door. He pointed at the wall, at the message. I'll do it again. Written in blood. In the most immaculate handwriting anyone in the room had ever seen.\n\nThe state attorney looked at it for a moment, beyond it.\n\n\"Yes. Seal the room. Let nobody in. Find, whoever did this.\"\n\nBenson shrugged. \n\n\"I only read about something like this somewhere before. So no guarantees.\"\n\n\"Well, that makes you the most qualified person, I know of.\", the state attorney said and left the room.\n\nBenson nodded.\n\n\"Narissa?\"\n\n\"Yes?\", the young police woman replied, a shake in her voice.\n\n\"You're with me. Were going to the library.\"\n\nEdit: fixed a name, added a word." ]	[ 1, 1, 2 ]	[ "1500958809", "1500961397", "1500965765" ]
[removed]	[WP] When you pull the trigger to commit suicide, a blaring sound sets you off. You see thousands of people coming to you with cameras and a gameshow host starts to interview. You are at a loss.	1	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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\nWe feel that asking users to write about suicide is harmful. It can be hard to tell if someone's writing fiction or making a cry for help. In the event there's any truth behind this for you or someone you know, we recommend checking out /r/suicidewatch or /r/depression. \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/6pedf8/wp_when_you_pull_the_trigger_to_commit_suicide_a/%0A%0A)\n\nThis action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things." ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1500963767", "1500964913" ]
	[WP] By 2200, one cup of fortified gruel a day provides all the food a body needs, and eating meat is illegal. You run a bootleg hamburger joint/speakeasy in Harlem.	199	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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 was flipping the patties when the screaming began. I looked up, and the door was being pounded on. It flew open, and a squadron of people in all black, with guns, rushed inside. I ducked under the barbecue, and the gunshots began. I spotted the trapdoor across the room, and began to crawl towards it. A body went flying over the barbecue. \n\n\"Alright, don't make a move, or you'll be shot!\" yelled a loud, feminine voice. Damn. It's the VSDS. Vegan Specialised Defense Squadron. Notorious for their no mercy tactics. They once detonated bombs inside a meat joint like this, with at least twenty people still inside. I continued to edge across the room, towards the trapdoor. I noticed some other people doing the same, around the table in front of the barbeque. \n\n\"Who runs this... Filth!\" that same voice cried. Everyone seemed to look towards the barbeque. I heard large footsteps stomping over to where I was lying. I scrambled to hide under the barbeque. But it was too late. They saw me. A big hand dragged me to my feet. And then I saw the owner of the voice. Tall, blonde, and vicious looking, her face obscured by a mask.\n\n\"Do you run this filth,\" she asked calmly, pointing a gun directly at my head. I shook my head.\n\n\"No ma'ma, I do not,\"\n\n\"Then why were you behind the barbeque?\" asked the surprisingly high voice of the person gripping my shoulder. They were very large and intimidating. \n\n\"I jumped down there when you burst in. I'm sorry, I never meant to break the...\"\n\n\"Shut up! Don't give me that crap. You knew what you were getting yourself into the moment you considered eating that stinking, slimy filth. Meat! Now, tell the truth,\"\n\n\"I-I run this place. All these people, they just want some meat,\"\n\n\"Where is this meat sourced from?!\" \n\n\"Home-grown. I give them the meat, and they pay good money for it,\"\n\n\"Oh god the euphemisms,\" I heard the man holding my shoulder mutter. Around me, people were chuckling. \n\n\"Why do you break the law so flippantly? All these people could go without your meat,\". I started laughing.\n\n\"I think they like my meat,\". Around the room, everyone began laughing their minds off. All except the woman in the center. The gun went off, aimed directly at my head. The last thing I felt was the pain. ", " The wars. That's what I told myself when he asked me how gruel became the norm. But those aren't the words I spoke to him, my son Hoss. I told him \"It's just how things have to be son, we all have to settle.\" \"But why do you have a secret meat restaurant?\" \"You ask too many questions kid, someday you'll understand...\"\n How could I expect a kid to understand the sacred bond between man and meat? My father instilled it in me when I was 18. This world seems to have forgotten that. I won't. I can't. That's why i'm here. In this hidden parlor, where my pops and I serve the greatest food in the world to the highest clientele. I know it's risky. They already came once. The Feds. They agreed to let me keep running my business if they fucked my wife. She died in the process. Some people ask, \"Is it worth never seeing your son again?\" I always keep to me and mine, not giving them an inch of an answer. But inside I know they have a point. Everyday I imagine the Feds busting in and ending my operation. But i'll always continue to serve the best burgers and meat in Harlem. I’m Rick Harrison, and this is my Harlem Speakeasy. I work here with my old man and my son, Big Hoss. Every meat in here has a story and a price. One thing I’ve learned after 21 years – you never know WHAT is gonna come through that door", "“Password.”\n\n“Two pickles?”\n\n“Come in.”\n\nYou see, I had to be cautious in those dark days - for all I knew, a myriad of FBI agents were preparing to erupt through my doors, confiscate my buns, incinerate my beef, and use my hot dogs to sodomise me into leaking the names of my suppliers. Passwords were the only way to keep safe.\n\nIn stepped Jerry. He was a regular customer, always ordering a double cheeseburger with a side of gruel-infused coleslaw. Why he ate that stuff at our meaty refuge, I do not know, but it was cheap, easy to produce, and kept him coming, so I’d oblige.\n\nJust as he sat down to feast upon his meat, he asked for a napkin. As I produced one from the desk behind me, he plucked a thin, neat biro from his chest pocket and wrote down “I HAVE A MIC. ACT LIKE YOU GAVE ME FAKE BEEF.”\n\n“Uh...” I was stuttering. How was I supposed to know what to say in this situation? “Funny that we call a cylinder of gruel a burger and people eat it like the real thing, right?”\n\nAt that, I thought my trials and tribulations were over, yet I was oh so naïve.\n\nA mere three days later, I heard the same knock on the door, but with a shakier approach. Upon asking for the password, I was greeted by Jerry’s familiar voice, but this time with an unfamiliar quiver.\n\nI turned behind me, glanced at my cooks, and nodded. Within thirty seconds, they surrounded the door with pots and pans containing bubbling, boiling oil. I opened the door nonchalantly, unsurprised when Jerry entered with a gun to his head, followed by a cluster of agents in pristine suits.\n\nI dove on Jerry, pushing him out of the way, and my cooks promptly sprayed our unwelcome intruders with greasy goodness, releasing shrieks and misguided gunfire all around.\n\nI knew from that moment that things had changed. This was no longer a secret operation - it was war, and food was our weapon. ", "The world was stunned when it happened. The Miracle Food they called it. But despite the Vegan Party's best efforts, they couldn't get any rational person to eat that disgusting gruel. So instead, they declared the consumption of meat illegal and arrested anyone that refused to comply.\n\nMy folks owned a small deli shop in Harlem. When meat was declared illegal, the Vegs raided our shop. They shot poppa right in front of me and sent momma to a \"Farm\" to be re-educated. On that day, I swore to fight the Vegan tyranny and vowed to not let the world forget about the wonderful taste of meat.\n\nThe sun was barely setting and my little underground burger joint was already full, the hamburgers on the grill gave out a heavenly smell and costumers drooled like dogs\n\n\"Hey Chris those burgers better be worth me coming out here risking my neck\" quipped an impatient customer.\n\n\"Buddy, be patient\" I shot back \"It's not like you have another choice\"\n\nOver the years I had developed techniques to mask the scent of the burgers (which I shall keep to myself) and had allied myself with some rebellious farmers that still raised cattle for consumption. Our little operation was a well kept secret despite the thousands of people that came to me to eat one of my juicy burgers.\n\nI was bickering with a costumer that didn't want to pay up when suddenly, a knock was heard at the door. The room fell silent immediately, and everyone held their breath as I made my way to the door. Whoever was on the other side had made the right knock (first few notes of \"The Star Spangled Banner\") The security camera showed a slender young man in a trench coat and a hat standing outside. \n\n\"This is private property\" I started over the intercom, \"So unless you want trouble I suggest you lea-\"\n\n\"The Wolf Howls at the Moon\" interrupted the young man\n\nHe had used the phrase to identify the place\n\n\"Password?\" I questioned\n\n\"Yui is my waifu 2013\" answered the man with a blank look in his face\n\n\"Season 1 or Season 2?\" I said trying to hold back my laugh at the silly response\n\n\"Season 2\" was the response\n\nI opened the door and gave him a warm welcome\n\n\"So, what will you be having today sir?\" I asked\n\n\"I... I'll have a cheeseburger please\" he ordered with a worried look on his face. I thought nothing of it.\n\nI served him his burger and he immediately grabbed it and started examining it from every angle, my suspicion rose as he took out a tiny device and stuck it in the patty. It made a whirring sound and let out a beep as a green light turned on and a message popped up on its tiny screen\n\nReal meat it read\n\nAll of a sudden the slender man started shouting \"THIS IS THE VSP\" (Vegan Secret Police) \"YOU ARE ALL UNDER ARREST FOR THE ILLICIT DISTRIBUTION AND CONSUMPTION OF ANIMAL PRODUCTS\" He held out his badge and pointed a handgun at my head.\n\nI panicked for a millisecond but then regained my composure \n\n\"A raiding party is on its way to arrest all of you!\"\n\nI knocked the gun out of his hand and held a knife to his throat. \n\n\"Follow me\" I ordered\n\nWe made our way to the back where the freezer was. \n\nA look of horror appeared on the man's face as I opened the freezer door and saw the frozen bodies of his little raiding party.\n\nI had been informed of this little plan ahead of time, so I had gathered the members of the raiding party and sent them there to chill for a little bit\n\n\"Y'know, I have a little device that blocks all electronic and radio signals from the outside\" I whispered in the man's ear coldly. \n\nI then pushed him into the freezer, he gave me a last look with terror in his eyes as I closed the freezer's door.\n\nI left him there, hollering for help, clawing at the door in a futile attempt at escape. \n\nThe night came, and the moon rose high in the sky. And I went back to making my burgers\n\n\n\n" ]	[ 1, 6, 14, 19, 73 ]	[ "1500988099", "1501018420", "1500991818", "1501001222", "1500998635" ]
	[WP] Two fathers are called in to the principal's office after their kids got into a fight. The principal is concerned about disciplining their children but the fathers are more interested in whose kid won the fight.	273	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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", "\"Goddamn idiot. In the middle of the fucking day... Couldn't even wait till after... Fucking idiot\" Jeff muttered, hurrying through the crowded halls. He growled at the kids whispering and looking at him, sending them scurrying down the hall. He stormed into the office and pushed past the protesting secretary. As the door burst open, the other dad was already there. He turned his fiery glare at the principal.\n\n\"What the hell is this? I have work to do and you're calling me down here to deal with these two?!\" he yelled, gesturing at the two boys sitting in front of the desk, heads down.\n\n\"Now sir, this is a very serious matter. We wouldn't have had to call you if this hadn't happened\" the principal explained, hands up, attempting to placate the clearly furious father. Jeff growled and looked at the boy nearest him.\n\n\"I mean, gawd, look at him, his face is all cut up and that's clearly going to be a shiner in the morning. Way he's shaking, I bet he busted a rib too!\" Jeff exclaimed, grabbing the boy by the chin and examining his clearly damaged face.\n\n\"You think that's bad? Look at this one! He's covered in dirt and his knee is all scraped up,\" the other father began to shout, \"He's had the everliving shit kicked out of him!\"\n\n\"Oh please, he was barely touched. Look at this bruise!\" Jeff said, as he forcefully rolled up the boy's sleeve and twisted him to show the others. The principal looked between the two men, trying to get a word in.\n\n\"Sir... yes, sir... Look that's the whole reason we've asked you gentlemen to come down here. This was, obviously, a very serious fight and we need to sort it out. Now, please, could you take your seats?\" The men sat down and waited.\n\n\"Well?\" Jeff growled.\n\n\"Yes, yes, now, according to our policy a fight of this severity mandates at least a week's suspension, but if...\"\n\n\"Whatever! We'll get to that. Tell us what's important!\" Thomas, the other father says, gesturing wildly with his hands.\n\n\"I'm sorry? I - I don't follow...\" the principal stammered, as a confused expression took hold of him.\n\nJeff rolled his eyes, \"Who won, you idiot? Huh? I mean, the punch that gave him this black eye clearly knocked him on his ass,\" he said, gesturing to the boy sitting next to him. \n\n\"Mr. Franklin, I don't quite see how that's rel-\"\n\n\"I'm not Franklin, you idiot, he is,\" Jeff said, pointing to Thomas.\n\n\"Wait, but your son-\"\n\n\"My son! You think this sorry sack of shit is my son? Mine's that one! The one whose not covered in his own blood!\" said the exasperated Mr. Jeff Thompson.\n\n\"Sorry sack of shit?! Your boy clearly lost!\" screamed the honorable Thomas Franklin, standing up and motioning to his son, seated next to Jeff.\n\n\"Gentlemen, gentlemen please, please, calm down.\" the principal yelled, attempting to get between the two belligerent fathers. \"Please sit down and we can sort this out!\" Once he had them seated, the principal removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes.\n\n\"Whose son is whose?\" he exclaimed, clearly overwhelmed. The men silently pointed to the boy sitting next to the other.\n\n\"Cut the crap Campbell, now settle this who won?!\" Thomas said, at the end of his tether.\n\n\"Gentlemen, I don't know what to say. I have never, in my fifteen years working here, ever met two parents who behaved this way. Quite honestly, I now feel worse delivering this already unfortunate news. These two boys did not fight each other! They were assaulted by two young women earlier this afternoon! I called you here to discuss how you would like to handle the punishment of the two ladies, not your sons!\" ", "\"Good evening gentleman, and thank you for coming in on such short notice,\" Principal Renniks said. \"As I am sure you are both aware, since you both responded to emails and texts, both of your sons were in a fight today. With each other. Now, I mean no disrespect, but Mr. Fallon it appears that your son insta-\"\n\n\"Principal?\" Mike cut him off, politely. \"Which-\"\n\n\"Renniks.\" He gestured toward the lettered block in his desk.\n\n\"Right, Principal Renniks. As I was saying... Which son won?\"\n\nWith his mouth agape, the upstanding citizen and school administrator stared at the two men. \"MR. FALLON,\" he said in a stern voice, \"NEITHER OF YOUR SONS ARE IN SCHOOL TO LEARN HOW TO FIGHT! HOW DARE YOU-\"\n\nMidspeech, Principal Renniks pressed a button located on the underside of his desk. The three men (and the desk) slowly lowered through the floor into a sound-insulated chamber below.\n\n\"That's better. It goes on for a couple minutes, then there's a good chance a pause would fit naturally after it ends. I simulated one of you tearing up, if that's ok.\"\n\n\"Yeah, whatever,\" Mike said. \"Just hand over the score card.\"\n\nPrincipal Renniks slowly took a small piece of paper out of an inside pocket of his jacket then handed it to John. Mike craned his neck to see. \"Yours,\" John said. \"Congratulations.\"\n\n\"I don't care. Little shit's not even mine. I just need to know beforehand whenever he wins because he likes to drink after he wins. Doesn't bother to fill the cabinet back up, ungrateful little...\"\n\n\"That's depressing,\" John said. \"I envy you. Mine sings in the shower. Annoying as hell. And he can't fight.\"\n\n\"Don't be so hard on him. My son is pretty good at it.\"\n\n\"He's not that good. His stats are just inflated because he got a lucky class schedule this semester.\"\n\nMike took his phone out of his pocket, and aggressively searched for a photo in it. The one was one he had taken of the Pug Trophy. His friend had it at the moment. A golden cast of a wheezy dog. He shoved his phone in John's face, as near to arm's length as he dared.\n\n\"My son is going to win me this, you'll see!\"\n\n\"You just said he wasn't yours, and that you don't care. It would be an embarrassment of riches if you won-\"\n\n\"Big words for a little man!\" Mike barked. He was squeezing the arm rests on his chair, and veins were popping in his neck. In all appearances, John was simply sitting and staring back at him.\n\n\"...gentleman,\" Principal Renniks said, simultaneously clearing his throat. He opened a drawer in the desk, pulled out a revolver, and aimed it at them. \"You would not believe the kinds of things kids bring in for show and tell these days,\" he said, waving it at them.\n\nAn alarm played from the chamber's custom user interface, which signaled that the men would soon be returning back up to the principal's office.\n\n\"No adult fights on school property, that's all I'm going to say,\" Principal Renniks said, while aiming down the sights at Mike. In a flash, he cleared the chamber and stashed it back in the desk. The chairs and desk rose, and the men chatted about anger management tactics and after school volunteering opportunities for a full five minutes.", "Both sat twirling their small fingers as the petite woman with braided brown hair sat in her black cushioned chair. The men sat on uncomfortable wooden seats.\n\n\"I call you today for your children, Brian and Joseph. It appears they got in a fight.\"\n\nThe men took side glances at each other, but continued to let her speak. The first father, a man with reddish side-parted hair, stared especially hard at the second with piercing glances.\n\n\"They're in the nurse's office right now. Brian broke his wrist, Joseph lost three teeth. They haven't spoken about how the fight started-\"\n\n\"I'm sorry, I need to interrupt.\", the reddish-haired man said. The brown-haired father looked at him with a blank stare, but his eyes said interest.\n\n\"What will it be, Mr. Plativok?\"\n\n\"Who won the fight?\"\n\n\"Excuse me?\"\n\n\"I want to know who won.\"\n\n\"This is highly inappropriate Mr. Plativok-\"\n\n\"I agree, I also want to know.\", the brown-haired man exclaimed, pushing himself straight in the chair. The petite principal stared surprised at both.\n\n\"No one won, we don't even know what the fight was about. You're acting like a child.\"\n\n\"It was probably my Brian\", Mr. Plativok bragged, \"I've been training him in fistfighting for years.\"\n\n\"Your kid? Didn't know blobs had muscle.\"\n\n\"You have no room to talk, your kid looks like the Scarecrow, especially without the arm strength.\"\n\n\"Least my kid can actually do his homework without the help of a tutor.\"\n\n\"Least my kid can-\"\n\n\"STOP THIS INSTANT!\"\n\nBoth men stared at the petite woman. She sighed and took off her wired glasses to clean them. Carefully slipping them back on, Mr. Platovik noticed her temple is throbbing. \n\n\"Your boys are in second grade. They are not supposed to beat each other to the point of breaking or losing parts of themselves. What is wrong with you?\"\n\nBoth men looked at each other. Then they stared back at the petite woman.\n\nThen they stared back at each other.\n\n\"So, who's paying expenses?\"\n\n\"Expenses?\", the petite woman questioned.\n\n\"My kid broke his wrist. I don't have the money to pay for that.\"\n\n\"You'll have to situate with it yourself. I'm sure you can do it.\n\nBoth men smirked at \"decide\".\n\n\"How about we fight?\"\n\n\"I'll beat you to a pulp, don't even try.\"\n\n\"Mr. Plativok-\"\n\n\"First to pass out loses.\"\n\n\"You're on, jackoff.\"\n\n\"Don't sweat it ginger.\"\n\n\"Get out of my office.\"\n\nMr. Sarath stopped in the middle of his next insult.\n\n\"But-\"\n\n\"Just leave. Your wife will pick up the children.\"\n\nThe men shrugged, and then angrily side-glanced each other. Leaving their chairs, they fought over who left the room first. When they left, the petite woman phoned Mr. Plativok's wife.\n\n\"Your husband took his medicine, right?\"", "“Mr. Smith, Mr. Wesson, I’ve called you in here today for a very important matter”, Principal Johnson began, “it concerns your boys. They’ve been fighting.”\n\nThe two fathers were remarkably similar men. Both were in their late forties and had begun to go grey. They were about the same height, and both were built like they had once been athletic, but years of fatherhood and beer had softened them some. The two even had sons the same age, Roger Smith and Scott Wesson. These young men currently sat, heads down, in two chairs beside the principal. Roger had a bag of ice on his face and Scott sported some minor cuts and bruises.\n\n“I don’t know how it started, and these boys won’t say anything, but we had to break them up at recess. This is the second time it’s happened. I’m hoping we can resolve the issue today and that it won’t happen again.” Principal Johnson continued.\n\nMr. Smith spoke up first, “Certainly, certainly, we can’t have our boys fighting every recess. Our families have known each other for years now, I would hate if Scott got hurt.”\n\n“Exactly”, Mr. Wesson chimed in, “if my boy hurt Roger I don’t know how I would sleep at night.”\n\n“I am glad you two gentlemen understand the situation. I don’t want to punish your boys, but if I catch them fighting one more time I will have to. I hope you can have a talk with them.”, Principal Johnson replied.\n\nBut Mr. Smith and Mr. Wesson kept speaking.\n\n“Now I don’t see how Roger would get hurt, with the size advantage he has, fighting with Scott is unfair to the poor kid.”, Mr. Smith said in response to Mr. Wesson.\n\n“Size advantage? Please, they are practically the same size, and Scott is much quicker. I mean, why do you think Roger has a bag of ice and Scott doesn’t? I think what happened is clear.”, Mr. Wesson turned to Principal Johnson, “thank you for stopping the fight. I will talk with Scott tonight about not fighting.”\n\n“Wait just a minute”, Mr. Smith interjected, “don’t think I am going to sit here and take these insults about my son. It is obvious that the fight was stopped before he could get any real damage in. He would wipe the floor with Scott.”\n\nPrincipal Johnson was flabbergasted. “Gentlemen, the purpose of this wasn’t to decide which of your sons would win in a fight, it is to prevent them from fighting. Now you two don’t seem capable of instilling the lesson in them. As such I will be forced to give them detention.”\n\nScott and Roger finally spoke up, in unison, “Detention?! Anything but detention!”\n\n“If you two promise to never fight again I’ll let it slide, but one more time and you both are suspended.”, Principal Johnson said, turning to the boys.\n\n“Yes sir”, both boys responded.\n\nBut the two fathers were still scowling at each other, neither willing to back down from his assertion that his son would be victorious. They both secretly formulated a plan to ensure their son would win the fight.\n\nMany years later the two fathers watched with pride as their sons finally faced off, this time for all the marbles. But alas, a clear victor was determined when, in 1998, The Undertaker threw Mankind off Hell In A Cell, and plummeted 16 ft. through an announcer’s table.\n" ]	[ 1, 5, 9, 15, 210 ]	[ "1500993695", "1501015730", "1500995859", "1500994951", "1500996449" ]
	[WP] The dragons of old have always been big fans of language and clever wordplay. How would a rap battle with one go?	110	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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 had become dependent on dragons for linguistics years ago. It was a natural fit for them, many agreed, especially considering they were nigh invulnerable to any sort of weapon.\n\nAs it turned out, dragons were the closest to cosmically immortal beings that Earth had ever produced. All those tales of knights slaying evil dragons? Yeah... those were dragons playing along. Have you ever answered a toy phone simply because a child handed it to you? To dragon kind, humanity's attempts to fight them were just like that. When a human tried to slay you to conquer evil, you melodramatically played along.\n\nEveryone wondered why dragons decided to make themselves known again. Theories ran wild until someone thought to ask them. It turned out they really liked the expression of linguistics that encapsulate modern rap battles. They found the flow required for them fascinating, and marveled at the manner verses could impact and modify colloquialisms and slang vernacular.\n\nFor dragons, it wasn't about who had the most bitches, bling or biggest boat. It was about who could most creatively use that particular method to tell a story or poke fun at their compatriots. It was awe-inspiring if nothing else, watching beings who had lived for millennia drop bars in languages that no longer existed yet had rhyming words with similar meanings to modern languages.\n\nMost of it went over our heads, but every now and again a dragon would decide to \"hard mode\" it by limiting himself or herself to a single language family or a single language. That still didn't ease the bruised egos of one-time top rappers.", "The knight in shining armor approached the dragon slowly. His eyes were closed, nostrils breathing heavily- smoke was billowing forth at a toxic rate. The knight drew his sword and pressed a button on the handle; The sword lit up with a blue electricity. He pressed the point into the underbelly of the dragon softly, and the crackle of the electrical impact stirred the beast.\n\nIn a thunderously deep voice, the gigantic lizard spoke;\n\n\"Are you not aware of the phrase, \"DO NOT POKE THE SLEEPING DRAGON?\"\n\nThe knight drew in a deep breath. \"I am Sir David the Lightning, and I have come to slay you! How will you proceed?\"\n\nThe dragon groaned. Despite the advances in technology these humans were as barbaric as ever. This one, fortunately, was a tried and true hero. Or, in dragonspeak, an idiot. He took a moment before replying one word, the act of which purged a funnel of fire from his mouth;\n\n\"RHYME.\"\n\nSir David smiled, \"So the rumours are true. You are the legendary dragon poet. The tales of your death and my victory shall be immortalized by all the Bards and MC's in Elythria! I too am a battle rapper, having lived off the streets for years before my squirehood. Very well, we shall have a standard bout of 3 rounds, in which you may take the first; Let us fight!\"\n\nThe Great Wyrm crashed his talon to the floor, digging his claws into the bedrock. His tail thumped out something akin to a beat, while swiping his claws to imitate a record scratch. He began:\n\nMy name is Swagnarok, I’m a lyrical dragon\n\nSoarin through the air while you’re lyrically draggin’\n\nI’m hard as a diamond, impossible to crack and\n\nActing like a kraken with my insults lashin\n\nI’m making huge waves in the industry; you’re barely splashin’\n\nI’m rappin, attackin, you’re crappin your pants and lackin the tactics to withstand the impact of my THRASHING\n\n\nYou’re a little knight with a tiny horse\n\nJust tryin to fight some you can impress some whores\n\nBut the outcome is clear, I will win of course;\n\nYou better surrender and leave… before I make you by force.\n\n\nUpon his last words he roared, deafening all within a mile who should hear it. But David simply took off his helmet, revealing a pair of earplugs. He stuck his sword into the ground and shouted back:\n\nMy name is sir David and I stand here defiant.\n\nI have come to seize the impossible and slay the Goliath\n\nYour words pierce sharply and your size is of giants\n\nBut if you think you can kill me… I’d like to see you try it.\n\n\nYou may spit fire, but I spit pure electricity\n\nIn fact I’m a hundred million volts of rhetorical ability\n\nYou could never shock me for I’m the epitome\n\nOf a lyrical legend, a rapping divinity\n\nI came here to slay dragons-\n\nBut now im sittin here askin-\n\nWhy the fuck are you acting like I’m some weak Bilbo baggins?\n\nI’m not a hobbling hiding hobbit\n\nI don’t own a magic ring\n\nI’m not gonna trick you with names while stealing your bling.\n\nI am the lightning\n\nso quick and so striking\n\nI'll dish out a pain, not quite to your liking\n\nyou are like thunder\n\nbecause you make me wonder\n\nhow can something so loud, put me into a slumber?\n\nYou're just the echo of the lightning that came before it\n\nyou're like the refrain that comes after a chorus\n\nCome at me with everything, set your fire ablaze\n\nAnd utter no excuses, when my blade ends your days.\n\nSwagnarok was silent for a moment. He did not play any beat this time, and when he began his reply, it was impossibly soft.\n\nLet us utter a moment of silence, for the soul of sir david\n\nFor I will devour him and leave his blood on the pavement\n\nString his insides around town, to his people’s amazement\n\nAnd then scorch down his city like it was “420 blaze it”\n\n\nHe sneered, and brought his voice up to a crescendo.\n\n\nI can tell… you’re on the defensive, setting up garrisons\n\nLooking apprehensive, and weak by comparison.\n\nYou couldn’t kill me with a million, let alone a single sword\n\nWhereas a single word from me could inspire a mighty king of lords\n\nForget your crowned fool; For I am the liege that you should kneel before\n\nMy maw is a sinkhole pit with a needle floor\n\nMy belly could fit an entire meal of dwarves in an evil horde\n\nEach rhyme strikes you like a kite in a lethal storm\n\nBecause I’m a god in creature form.\n\nA beast rampaging, with freaking horns!\n\nBut go ahead, stand there and ridicule.\n\nLaugh while I rip and tear apart every last bit of you\n\nAs I blow smoke from my nostrils, the smog begins creeping\n\nLike a pressing presence presently creeping\n\nAnd quickly David begins his pleading\n\nBut the dragon Swagnarok is already reaching\n\nHunger in his belly he starts proceeding\n\nTakes a bite from the knight who’s seething and SCREECHING\n\nScreaming on the ground and viciously bleeding\n\nHis blood his on fire, he’s overheating\n\nExceeding steaming and still increasing\n\nFlaming body, licking leaping\n\nIgnited by the rhymes that I am speaking.\n\nFinally Sir David ceases breathing.\n\nThe smoke clears up and starts receding.\n\nThe rats come forth, squeaking, feasting\n\nBut not before I, the beast’s, done eating.\n\n\nHe looked around, at the charred remains of his adversary. He smiled and said aloud,\n\nNow I found that quite fun, I don’t know about you.\n\nAfter all, you’re the first in a hundred years That’s made it to Round 2.\n\n\nEDIT: Formatting\n", "Welcome to the final of the Dragon's Annual Rap Killer Contest! We've seen maaaaad beef today, roasting without limits and the spillage of hot fire was amazing! Now, ladies and gentlemen, claws up for the mad final: Who spits the hottest fire IN - THE - WORLD!? Is it DJ Ryu, the hot legend from the underground, the underdrake, so to speak? Or is it the champion of last year, MC Spitfire!? You decide! Now, give it up for the combatants aaaaaaand mad rep for our turntable rocker, Hoardmasta! DROP THE BEAT HOARDY! Yeah, that's it! DJ Ryu, on stage!\n\n\nRyu: RYUUU in da house! Spitting hotter fire than spitfire, shit's dire, when the Asian raps, whelps collapse, parents are shocked and the system gets mocked!\n'Cause when I go round, unbound, with mad sound, you get downed! No wings gonna make you fly, your game's gone awry, you fry and then you die!\n\nSpitfire: R... YU... Ready, no you're not, you forgot, you battle an OG enemy, real master, your personal disaster! I'm hoardin' the gold, more riches, more bitches, more stitches, look at my battle-scars from my ghetto-wars, you talk 'bout whelp dragons, I laugh, drink virgin blood from a flagon in my vault, and under my massive assault, you'll crumble, give up, I win by default.\n\nRyu: Win by default? That's a result you're content with, old man? All that muscle but no brain, a shame, your assault - better surrender! - hits me like a fender bender, the only effect it projects is minor deject from the man who drives a corvette and makes a wreck. So agile, versatile, in body and mind, sleek yet not meek, will roast your meek meat-head.\n\nSpitfire: At least I got the body to represent, thin twig, I'm big, that's what the girls dig, you little prick! Crawl back to the underground, I release my verbal hound, and pound you back deep, then get crowned - two times in row! - cause my flow steals the show, you're no dragon, you're a crow, now go and grow.\n\nRyu: If I grow anymo' even you must know that I will blow you away, I got the breath of death, you raps confusing like an addict rambling on meth - oh, was that too hard, did I leave you scarred? Add that to your surgery marks from imagined struggles, your career lies in rubbles, while I smuggle myself on stage, enraged, the far eastern sage, ripping your ribcage apart, going straight for your heart.\n\nSpitfire: Is this for real? A whelp foretells the end of my career? When it's at full swing, hear the fire I bring, clutch at straws, a last hope that you cling to and claw, and then you drop down under and I eat you raw, stuff my maw with some Kimchi and gnaw on your bones, cause my tones hit harder than scissors gets beaten by stones.\n\nRyu: Children's game is all you can cite? Alright, this seems to be rap battles lite. So I leave my A-game at home, but not alone, B-game, C-game, the whole ABC is there, reading a tome, because I can beat you with style even without the need to dial my phone, calling home. On second thought, my garden gnome, that's who I'd call, because once and for all, that's one guy you could beat and do the repeat. You're no elite, last year was a fluke, you nuked the Archduke but your raps made me puke back then and even now it takes all my strength to withhold my stomach's contends.\n\nSpitfire: Just puke, it'll be the only time in your life you're ever sick! Cause imma stick it to ya, pick you apart, it's an art to take your limbs from you, part by part. Off with the wings, your flimsy strings, wait that's an arm? Damn, I'm alarmed, that small thing can't do any harm, even your raps are disarmed! And when you're just a long body, you're a nobody, no arm, no wing, no knee, go hide under a tree. When I step up, you break, the earth does quake and you slither off like a snake." ]	[ 1, 4, 16, 17 ]	[ "1501019679", "1501036240", "1501037789", "1501036140" ]
[deleted]	[WP] In the near future, in the process to make all traffic activities work automatically by A.I, they try to avoid traffic accidents just by connecting all A.I systems, but there is an underground group of people who are developing a particular system to cause traffic accidents to terrorize..	3	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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", "An underground group of NYC bike messengers begins to form.. before they've always lived on the edge of society, a sub-class of human always left to hang in the traffic courts. \n\nNow, when all seems to be out of control, the government looks to these rejects to try and take on the hacker group. Seemly impervious to the elements that force others into their sheltered cars - these brave young men and women are America's only hope against the terrorists who seek to destroy comfort and convenience! \n\nDodging and dashing, like lightning they carve apart through traffic and shut down any terrorist controlled car with their state of the art military fixies! " ]	[ 1, 2 ]	[ "1501036114", "1501039607" ]
	[WP] An apprentice warlock has finally ascended. He performs the blood ritual to summon his first succubus, and his ex-girlfriend appears. She insists on analyzing why their relationship failed.	70	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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", "Bang bang bang! The door was about to come off its hinges with every thump from her tiny fists. Her knuckle bones leaving soft indents in the thin plywood.\n\n\"Open up, you son of a wolf. You...you bitch in sheep's clothing.\"\n\nDorian had just stepped out of the shower. Wrapping the towel around himself he reached for the remote and turned the music down. He had recently bought this CD of ancient druid chants because he thought they would sound cool during a session.\n\nUsually Dorian lit up with a bunch of his friends, but today he wanted to get a few puffs in the morning before his shower. The incense sticks were burning and mixing with the steam pouring out of the bathroom.\n\nHe tiptoed towards the door and looked out the peephole. There she was. A 5 feet nothing, 100 pounds ball of hellfire. His friends had warned him a long time ago that she would be trouble, but he didn't listen. Not until she had sucked out the last ten dollars from his bank account to pay for her phone bill did he realize that she was a leach. \n\nWhy did he keep her around? He had asked himself. To be verbally abused, slapped and kicked? He always thought it was his fault. She told him as much, every time her bony hands and feet rained down on him.\n\nBang Bang Bang!\n\nAnd now she was at the door. Six months after their breakup. She had slinked away when he had told her off in public, after she had thrown a drink in his face at the party his friends threw to celebrate his graduation from law school.\n\nWhy did she have to show up today, of all days? The day he had passed his bar exam. He was celebrating with a smoke, getting in the right frame of mind. And now he had to deal with this crazy lady.\n\n\"What do you want Maria?\" He shouted at the peephole.\n\n\"I want my Goddamn money, Dorian\" she screamed at him. \"The cash you borrowed from me to pay for your car. The same car that drove you to your bar exam, hotshot!\n\n\"You gave me that money to pay me back for funding your abortion from the last time you cheated on me with Jose. I don't owe you anything.\"\n\nThere was silence from the other side of the door. For most people this would mean victory but Dorian knew this meant that she was up to something.\n\nThere was a crash as a brick flew through his window.\n\nLooking through the broken glass, he saw her glaring at him then.\n\n\"You ruined my life Jose. You stomped on my heart. I treated you right and you fucked me.\"\n\n\"You treated me like shit, and if you don't leave now, I'm calling the cops.\"\n\nShe screamed then. It pierced his brain and jangled every synapse. And then there was silence. He looked outside and saw her peeling away in her Geo Metro. She was gone for now, her rage temporarily spent. But if he didn't stay strong, she would return to take over his soul. Soon he would be trained enough to be able to withstand her power more effectively. He could call on the courts to aid him. But for now, he was only an apprentice and he would need to be careful.\n\n**************************\n\nGet more tasty words at [/r/wordsyrup](https://www.reddit.com/r/wordsyrup/)", "\"Ohhh no. I'm not doing this. Nope.\" He turned to his master, shoulder's sagging and head hung low. The always determined and hard-working student's voice was all but a visage of his usual one, it sounded dreary, weak and tired. \"It seems I'm not cut out to be a wi--\" \n\n\"Ohhh no? OHH NO!? Don't 'oh no' me Ray. We. Have. To. Talk\"\n\nHe spared the fuming succubus with a glance before facing his master once more. The tired look on his growing something similar to resignation, the master, Aurelious, even sensed a hint of depression.\n\n\"Please. . . you can take her back to where she came from, please. She smells like sulfur and death.\" \n\n\"Uh-- duh! I'm a succubus!\"\n\n\"Aren't you supposed to be clean and tidy and sexy -- all that flirtatious things? Mostly clean and tidy.\"\n\n\"The succubus summons where calling me, when I saw your name I KNEW I had to rush here. Looking like succubus or not.\"\n\n\"That's rich\"\n\n\". . .\"\n\nThe master kept his mouth shut, in fact he seemed like a mere pebble at the side of the road. Quietly letting the petty squabbles of these travelers that were passing by, he just hopes that they pass by already. He was titled master of all elements and un-aging hermit of the elements, but faced with these kinds of quarrels he wished there was some sort of spell to allow this to end already. \n\nThe succubus looked at Ray, rolling her eyes she placed a hand on her hips striking quite the salacious pose despite her sullied look. She really did look like she came from hell, bringing all her eye-catching looks and hellish dirt and filth there was on hell.\n\n\"Look, Ray, I understand why you're angry at me. Hell, I'd be angry if you suddenly said you were an angle.\"\n\n\"Which I was to you, Morgan! I gave you everything, I was practically your thrall! YOU abused my kindness Morgan.\"\n\n\"That is not what I meant, Ray.\"\n\n\"Like you did our relationship, you didn't mean it.\"\n\nShe looked offended, wronged even as she stared daggers into the apprentice sorcerer.\n\n\"Ray! I'm a succubus! It took my everything to not be an abusing mistress to you because I genuinely felt something! A millennium of being a succubus and for the first time I felt something! Do you even know how precious that moment was to me!? \"\n\n\"Oh I know Morgan. I'm coldblooded then, while you go flirting around in that thousand year of your life, I spent mine, since I was born, killing.\"\n\nIn that instant runes formed around his hand, a distinct purple hue covered his hand. And like blood crawling from his arms the purple colored darkness crawled to his hand in a neck-chilling pace and from a formless liquid turned into a blade of purple and magic. Summoning. It was the basic of the basic of conjuration magics, thought to everyone, used by everyone. But Ray understood it to the point of rewriting the very ways it could be used. And so the writhing purple blade that was his conjured blade was pointed to him.\n\nAurelious, looked concerned though in someways excited . . . She'll definitely get stabbed.\n\n\"You think that my first love was also something so frivolous and fleeting that it won't hurt? You think that it didn't hurt?\"\n\n\". . . Did it?\"\n\n. . . It seemed that she won't get stabbed, the magus thought looking at the still tense atmosphere still there. There still might be a chance though, and I'm still on the fence whether to cut in if a fight were to go down or not\n\nShe threw him a disarming look, those two words bleeding her heart out as she felt for herself the pain that she felt when they broke up. The cauterized wound now opening once more and bleeding with every pump of their heart and ravenous argument in their heads. \n\n\"Did it, Ray?\"\n\nHe looked away, hands trembling and mind racing, his face scrounged up in pain before easing up into discomfort, shortly after depression settled in like water pouring out of a dam. \n\n\"It did, Morgan. I mean look at all of this.\" He looked to the side and towards the summoning circle he used \"I wanted to so desperately forget you, I followed one path into the other, like a blind fool. Before I knew it I was just coming back to you.\"\n\nForget them fighting, this might turn into something juicy* The master sat up, watching intently though keeping his presence low. \n\nShe covered her mouth, teary-eyed, happy and ecstatic from that one statement. Both of their bodies rested and showed easiness, his blade was at settled down and the purple hazy that was his blade disappeared. His hands now though were slowly approaching her cheeks. \n\n\"I missed you. I can't believe I was so stupid as to leave you just because of what you are. . . I . . .I'm sorry.\"\n\n. . . This is it. . . am I gonna get a free show? I mean I feel awful since they seem such nice people but. . . how often can a hermit like me see something like this.? The magus did nothing more only hide his presence more, casting soft melodic tomes of the shadows.\n\n\"Same, I'm sorry that I kept . . . my being a succubus from you. I love you, I love you so much.\"\n\n\"Funny, I'm of the same opinion.\" \n\nThey kissed softly . . .\n\nTHERE IT IS!!!!!!\" \n\n~~Two hours later~~\n\nThat was. . . interesting. Never knew some couples are into that sort of thing. What a nice learning experience. Now to get away before this couple see me. . .\n\n\"Hey what about you're master?\"\n\n\"Oh, right. He's a good person, not the most sociable, but he's a nice person.\" \n\n\"And you are sure that he's not some sort of pervert? I can and will* kill him if that's the case.\"\n\n\"Not that I'm doubting him, but, yeah, I'll help you if it happens.\"\n\nGood call, me. Time to run the hell away! ", "\"Go to hell was an expression.\" Stated the young warlock dumbly as his ex-girlfriend stood before him, completely nude with pinkish red skin a set of cute curved goats horns and a tail ending in a heart-shaped point.\n\n\"Another joke.\" Scolded the Succubus impatiently as she stepped out of the pentagram and walked towards the closet. \"You always did use humor as a defense mechanism.\" She stated as she searched through the warlocks belongings, eventually finding a long cloak and a pair of reading glasses. She put on both as she turned and walked back towards her ex. \"Knew you'd stolen these.\" She gestured towards her glasses with a mix of annoyance and disappointment. \n\n\"You're a Succubus.\" Blurted out the warlock in confusion.\n\n\"Deductive as ever.\" Remarked the Succubus as she took a seat on a wooden horse, one of the makeshift dungeons many symbolic torture devices. Sitting comfortably upon the extremely uncomfortable device as she made a cell phone appear out of thin air and began texting.\n\n\"How?\" Questioned the warlock. Still on his knee's with a large gash in his arm and a bloody knife laying in the dirt piled on cold stone next to him.\n\n\"Toby, don't ask stupid questions.\" Replied the Succubus with impassive negligence.\n\n\"You've always been one.\" Stated Toby out loud. Realization setting in as he slumped back in exhaustion from blood-loss. Suddenly altered to his heavily bleeding arm he raised his other hand to the wound. \"Sanguine.\" A spell that clotted the blood flow and quickly set the body to healing the wound.\n\n\"Cute. Learned a spell. Remember my birthday?\" Inquired the Succubus aggressively as she continued to text some unknown figure.\n\nToby did not remember. \"Sasha.\" Directed Toby towards the Succubus. \"You're a fucking Succubus.\" He stated, suddenly resolved in his tone since the confusion had dissipated. \n\n\"And you're a fucking loser.\" Whipped Sasha back at Toby without looking up from her phone but gripping it with more strength as she spoke. \"So we're even.\"\n\nPhone was getting annoying. \"Zeus.\" Directed Toby towards the cell phone, draining the small device of it's battery life in an instant.\n\n\"Fuck, Toby. This is your problem.\" Declared Sasha angrily as she tossed the phone into the air and it disappeared in a cloud of purple smoke. Staring angrily at her ex from the top of the wooden horse.\n\n\"My Problem?\" Questioned Toby in a challenging tone. \"You're the one tha- Wait, what the fuck. YOU'RE A FUCKING SUCCUBUS!\" Yelled out the young man as he stood abruptly.\n\n\"No shit.\" Responded Sasha with an menacing glare.\n\n\"You never told me.\" Accused Toby.\n\n\"And how long have you been doing this dungeons & dragons shit in your basement?\" Remarked Sasha with distaste in her mouth. \n\n\"You know what. Whatever.\" Stated Toby as he moved to a chest against on the rooms north wall. \"You hate me? That's fine. Banishing spell it is.\" Anger obvious in his voice as he began rummaging through the old wooden chest.\n\n\"You don't get to put this on me. You're the lonely bastard summoning Succubi in your sex dungeon.\" Accused Sasha with mocking disgust. Jumping down from the wooden horse to inspect the room. \"I'm not the reason we didn't work.\"\n\nPriceless Toby thought. \"Really? I wasn't the one who ghosted.\" Replied the warlock without looking up from the chest. Reaching into the container an arms length beyond what should have been possible as the magical item expanded into deeper depths.\n\n\"You really want to do this?\" Asked Sasha in irritation. \"Ok. You never listened to me.\" Challenged the Succubus. \n\nToby didn't have a good argument for that. \"I don't need you to profile our clusterfuck.\" Responded the warlock over his shoulder as pulled out a selection of plant roots from the chest. Smiling wickedly as he closed the container and moved towards the closet.\n\n\"That's another. You avoid talking things out.\" Argued Sasha. Leaning against a damp pillar within the dungeon as she rolled her eyes and looked up just so she could raise her nose in superiority. \n\nToby closed the closet door with a small patch of slizard hide in one hand. Ignoring Sasha as he moved back towards the pentagram and took a knee to spread out the ingredients. \n\nSasha looked on with mild curiosity. To be honest she hadn't expected him to be capable of a banishing spell as it was a fairly high level magic. Difficult and dangerous to master but he seemed fearless in his movements. \"Not to mention you always looked at other women.\" \n\nFuck it thought Toby. \"You are literally a demon whore prancing around naked for mages.\" Shot the warlock at Sasha, resentment born from harassment pushing him to defend himself. \"Was this your day job while we dated? Show up buck fucking naked on some old guys pentagram?\" He accused, furiously mashing the roots in a pestle & mortar while he glared at the Succubus.\n\n\"Fuck did you just say!\" Screamed out Sasha as she moved across the room to face Toby. \"I'm not a fucking whore! You piece of shit!\" Yelled out the Succubus in fury as she raised a long nailed finger at the warlock. \"We don't have to show up naked!\" She defended as he continued to mash the roots.\n\nToby paused for a moment. \"Un-fucking-believable.\" Commented the warlock as he stared motionless at the roots. Turning instantly to face the Sasha. \"You knew it would be me.\" He said, regretful anger seething from his tone.\n\n\"What?\" Responded Sasha with guilty confusion.\n\n\"You knew I was the summoner. This is one big fucking joke.\" Grumbled out Toby as he wrapped the mashed roots in the slizard hide and tied them up. \"My first blood ritual and I have to put up with this.\" Hushed the warlock under his breath as he continued setting up the banishing spell.\n\nShe'd been caught. Sasha knew he was summoner and wanted to mess with him. Make him jealous, or angry, or regretful, or anything. \"So what if I did know?\" Stated the Succubus. \"Not like you cared who showed up.\" She mentioned passingly yet with incredible passive aggressiveness as she turned around to face away from Toby.\n\nThey both remained silent for a moment as Toby finished tying off the slizard hide and placed in a silver chalice filled with his own blood from the previous ritual. All that was left was to speak the incantation and burn the hide.\n\nThat's all Toby had to do. Incantation. Then burn the hide.\n\nFuck, he thought, after a moments hesitation. This wasn't closure. He'd been a dick while they dated and he knew it. Caught up in studying the arcane arts behind her back. She wasn't blameless, but he knew he wasn't either.\n\nToby stood and waited for a moment while staring at Sasha's back. Just now noticing she was wearing one of the black bathrobes they'd stolen from a hotel after a particularly exotic weekend. Her being a Succubus suddenly put a lot of memories into perspective. \n\n\"Sasha.\" Started Toby in a clam voice.\n\n\"Just finish the fucking ritual.\" Cried out Sasha over her shoulder. Obviously hiding a pained face. Wanting to end this horrible decision she made to show up.\n\n\"Listen.\" Started Toby again. \"I know I fucked up.\" Apologized the warlock. \"You didn't deserve the way I treated you.\" \n\n\"You're damn right.\" Interrupted Sasha, her tone wavering less than before as she listened.\n\nToby pause for a moment in silence as he tried to figure out what to say next. Apologies had never been his strong suit, was a warlock for fucks sake, not exactly in the job description.\n\n\"And.\" Spoke Sasha before pausing for a moment. Toby looked on patiently as he waited for whatever the Succubus had to say. \"I might have been less than understanding.\"\n\nNot what Toby expected. He wasn't used to hearing her point out her own flaws. Not exactly in the Succubus job description.\n\nSasha turned quickly to face him, a few dry tear lines running down from her eyes. It would have been cute thought Toby, if Succubi didn't cry blood that is. She looked at him angrily for a moment then seemed to relax.\n\n\"We never really talked.\" She pointed out in an exhausted tone. \"Just didn't seem to have the time.\"\n\n\"I know.\" Said Toby. \"Hardly ever alone together.\"\n\n\"And when we were.\" Interrupted Sasha with a slight smile that quickly disappeared. Yeah, thought Toby, the Succubus angle was making a lot more sense as he thought back on their two years together.\n\n\"With me being a demon. And you with magic apparently. Plus that stupid college and our idiot friends.\" Wondered Sasha as she let her shoulders slump into a more comfortable pose. Neither of them moved. They couldn't with that much tension in the air.\n\n\"I missed you.\" Declared Toby. \"Why I did this stupid blood ritual.\" Explained the warlock regretfully. \"I just.\" He paused. \"I wanted to forget about you.\" They continued not to move.\n\nSasha moved forward and embraced Toby. New blood tears running down her face and staining the dark cloth of his ceremonial robes. They didn't need to say anything as he embraced her as well. Pushing his head against her oddly silky hair as he gently butted against one of her horns. The temptation to shed a few of his own tears was overpowered by the overwhelming warmth of a Succubi's skin through a tattered old stolen bathrobe. \n\nSasha stepped away and put Toby at a distance in her arms. Leaning in to quickly kiss him, smearing bloody tears on his face, before breaking her grip to step away. Toby stared on in astonishment as his ex-girlfriend the Succubus turned away from him and stood motionless for a moment.\n\n\"Do you remember the weekend we got these bathrobes?\" Whispered Sasha in an inviting voice as she dropped the robes to her feet revealing her stark naked figure and tossed away her glasses.\n\nSasha being a Succubi, Toby thought, put a lot of their time together into perspective. \"Hell yes.\" Muttered the warlock as he moved to follow the Succubus towards a shitty bed in a makeshift dungeon.\n\nWriters Note: No intention of this being so, well, sexual. But it sort of just flowed that way. My content on this subreddit is usually more family friendly.\n\n\n\n\n" ]	[ 1, 2, 7, 35 ]	[ "1501041846", "1501073463", "1501049229", "1501047100" ]
	[WP] Write a story with what appears to be a completely likable and relatable protagonist, then make him a villain in the last paragraph.	388	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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 a beautiful day it was, though it had reached a blistering 90°F, much higher than what was predicted this late in September. I had accomplished a lot today and had planned a nice dinner for my girlfriend, Amanda. The yard work was all caught up, even the briars and weeds along the fence were cut and pulled. I had also finally finished painting the garage, something I had put off for weeks. I started the day fairly early at 7am, having the entire day to not only work but work through the details of the evening. I had to get everything right. \n\nIt was getting late in the afternoon with a lot left to do. There was a strong, chilling breeze coming from the mountains that seemed to chase the sun over the horizon. The temperature drop was unnatural, so cold that I decided we would still eat outside but I would move the table closer to the fire pit for warmth. I was hoping she may suspect I was proposing to her. After all, we had been together 5 years. This would help me remain calm. \n\nI went inside, took my shower and cleaned up, taking extra steps to look as good as I possibly could. Amanda was due home in less than an hour. I had already marinated the steak, made my special seasonings and cut up vegetables. It was time to set the table, get out the wine, wine glasses and place settings, also I had to light the barbeque and the fire. By now, it felt incredibly cold outside. I felt chills down my spine, was in the nerves? I had planned this special day for a few months now.\n\nBy the time she arrived the air felt almost took thick to breath. I was trying to convince myself that it was the humidity but knew better. It wad dark now, the solar lights I had installed along our walkway illuminated our path and quite honestly looked pretty romantic. She was extremely impressed and I do believe she was convinced I was going to ask for her hand in marriage. When we rounded the corner into the backyard, the table and candles really set it off, it was very picturesque. I asked her to have a seat while I threw the steaks on the grill. I ran inside and grabbed the salad along with a white gift bag with simple red bows tied to the top. I came outside and set salad on the table, the gift to the side. By now, Amanda was noticeably excited and anxious. \n\nI sat down to enjoy my salad with her. We spoke about our past together and how in love we were when we first got together. We reminisced about the honeymoon phase and ups and downs we had. I stood up and quickly flipped the steaks, adding some extra seasoning to Amanda's. She continued on about how much she appreciates the dinner tonight and knows I love her. We finish our salads and I refill our wine. She's now almost hinting at a proposal. I think she's trying to give me an opening or a setup or something. It's almost awkward for a moment. I get up and flip the steaks one last time and throw some more wood on the fire.\n\nI sit back down and sip some wine. I am not really listening at this point. I'm more focused on her reaction when I tell her. I want to take a picture and frame it, in a literal sense, but I know I only get a memory. Amanda is now somewhat tipsy, she flirty and spewing on about how much she loves me and my family. I slowly get up and grab her plate, get her steak and set it back down in front of her. She almost instantly starts to cut her steak and enjoy it. I grab my plate now, somewhat lazily as I'm not really hungry and sit down and eat a little.\n\nIt is suspiciously quiet, only the pop and sizzle from the fire, a few scrapes and scratches from cutting our food. Amanda has been quiet, she seems to be enjoying her food. I see she is halfway done, do I begin: \"Amanda, I know about Jeremy. Please, just listen for a minute here. I don't want to argue and scream and fight right now. I've known for a few months. I have followed you and read your messages to and from him, I've listened in on calls... and more.\" She cuts in, interrupts me or tries to, \"Buttttrree Pleeee jjjjjeeerrremmmmm.\" But it is too late, she can't talk, her tongue now swollen, drool and foam coming from her mouth. I hand her the gift bag and continue to explain, \"You have eaten a rare poison that I added to your steak. You won't live another 20 minutes.\" She opened the bag, stared in shock and disbelief, then started shaking and finally slumped down in her chair. I enjoyed the rest of my steak in silence. \n\n\n\n", "I smile, looking at the scene before me. A steak dinner, cooked to perfection, on the table, a candelabra burning away, filling the air with the scent of chocolate (scented candles can be convenient sometimes.) as I checked and double-checked to make sure that everything was PERFECT for our date. A red and white dress, small amount of makeup dusted across a face framed with curls of black hair that swayed and bounced as I checked and double-checked to make sure that I was perfect for our date.\n\nI sit down, across from him. His eyes lock onto mine. He's not eating his food...oops, forgot about the gag. The tape makes a soft sound as I peel it away, and gently feed him a few bites of food. He's...crying, struggling in the ropes. \"Honey, stop it.\" I wipe his tears, taking a bite of steak. He gulps down what's in his mouth. His voice rings out...so beautiful. \"Melody...\" I smile at him. \"Don't worry, John. She's here. Look. This is her dress.\" Blood drips down the fabric...such a pretty color... \"And she's with you right now. What do you think you've been eating?\" He starts to cry. He must like my cooking. I gently feed him another bite.", "\"Oh come on Jeffery!\" Sarah said. \"It's simple. All you have to do is walk up and say you like her!\" She looked at his adorably dumbfounded face. A puppies face. \n\"But... How can I? It'd be really awkward. Like imagine if the girl I like was you, Sarah.\" He then changed into a squeaky voice \"oh hey I like you!\" He said in his best Mickey Mouse imitation. \"How would you react?\"\n\"I'd probably... Hmm... Good point. So how to get you to confess to this mystery girl?\" Sarah slurped her soda and gazed off into the distance, thinking. Jeff winced -great. The girl I like just said she wouldn't reciprocate. How am I supposed to tell her now?- he thought.\n\"Well enough about this.\" Sarah said. \"We'll figure this out later.\" She glanced at a tv store across the street playing the news. \"Did you hear about all those people who have gone missing recently?\" She said. \"Apparently they found some of the bodies. They all had a single stab wound right here\" she motioned her fingers in front of the left side of her chest, in front of the heart. Jeffery tried his best to not blush while staring right there. and hopefully, not have it noticed he was staring. \"Can you imagine?\"\n\"Uhh... OH. Um yea um, N-no.\" He said. \"H-how big did they say the wound was?\"\n\"About an inch I think. Like the size of mine.\" She said, referring to the Smith & Wesson pocket knife she always carried around. \"They also said the killer was short, like around my height.\" She gestured by waving her hand sideways like a turning periscope.\n\"They also said it was likely the killer is a southpaw.\"\n\"W-wow. That's a lot of detail. I didn't think they'd release that much to the public, y'know?\" Jeff stammered. Spending this much time with her was beginning to get to him. As the cafe waitress went by, Sarah asked for the check. \n\"Oh, hey Sarah, across the street, look. It's Jessica and Miley.\"\nSarah made a disdainfully mocking face. \"Ugh. I hate them so much. They think they're better than everyone. So prim and proper and total bit... Ahem.\" She caught herself from using the word. She leaned in closer to Jeffery. \"Between you and me Jeff, I wouldn't mind so much if the girl going around knifing people got them.\" \nJeff gulped. He suddenly felt something... Unusual about Sarah. Just then the waitress came back with the check. Jeff reached for it but Sarah beat him to it. \"Don't worry, this is on me.\" She said, and signed the check with her left hand. They both stood up and started walking down the street. When they had gone a few blocks, they stopped when they saw something in an alleyway. \n\"Hey look! A cat!\" Jeffery said.\n\"Hey, your right! It's so cute! Wanna try and catch it?\"\n\"Sure!\" He said. Ah, this was nice. A good relaxing break from being with his crush, now to chase a cat. They both started down the alleyway, and the at kept into the building to the left. The two veered in after it. Inside, it was dark, with some pale sunlight coming in, there was nothing but long forgotten plastic sheets and crates. Nobody had been in here for quite a while. And probably wouldn't be for a while, either. \"You go left, I'll go right.\" Sarah said. Jeffery nodded. They split away and within a few seconds had lost sight of each other, and the cat. Sarah smiled. This was fun. After a few minutes she got an interesting feeling. \"Jeff...\" She said, her voice calm, soothing. She slipped the knife from her purse and opened it. \"Jeffery, where are you?\"\nThe cat scurried from in front of her an bolted towards the door. She spun around at the movement and watched it flee. It was fine. The cat didn't matter anymore. \n\n\"I love you Sarah.\" \nSarah spun again at Jeff's voice. \n\nShnk\n\nSarah saw Jeff kneeled, his left arm reaching diagonally towards her chest, where his gloved hand held a handle of some sort. \n\"J-Jeff.\"\n\"I loved you, Sarah.\"\n\"Jeff.\"\nJeff\n\nYes, Jeff had felt something unusual about Sarah earlier. He felt lust for her. Just as he had those other dead girls. \n\nLust. \n\nBloodlust.\n\n...\"I'm really glad I met you, Sarah. You mean the world to me. And don't worry, I think it'd be fun to go on a 'date' with Jessica and Miley. They are both very pretty, and would break your heart just like that... Unless I broke theirs, first. So don't worry. The person knifing will get to them, soon.\"", " It was a warm, sunny afternoon in the wonderful town of Springfield, Illinois. Michael and his wife Christine and his daughter Jasmine had just came back from their vacation to DisneyWorld. 6 year old Jasmine enjoyed one of best days of her young life! This afternoon, Michael decided he'd take the family to the Cardinals game. The family had an awesome time. Poor Michael works so hard. He gets about 5 hours of sleep a night, but still wakes up at 6 and heads to work at the construction site. He and his crew are working on a home for an old man with dementia. What a nice guy Michael is! \n Michael has a bad side to him believe it or not. He drinks himself to sleep every night, punches his wife, you name it, he does it. Michael is a monster. He has a terrible case of depression, and has tried killing himself multiple times. We gave up on him with therapists. He yelled at the last one so much she quit her job and found a new office. Michael cheats on his taxes too. Nobody knows this about Michael except others around him.", " A scrawny mutt approached Melvin while he sat on his porch after a long day in the field. Melvin looked down and met eyes with the emaciated little fellow. He could see it was a male from the hangings and that he had no collar. Despite his legs feeling like jelly, he rose instantly and headed straight towards the kitchen. Luckily a couple cans of hearty soup were still in the pantry. He placed the bowl down on the porch and watched the contents disappear in under a minute. \n For about two weeks this feeding became a ritual until Melvin took the dog in. Anything he ate, the dog ate too. It didn't matter what cut of meat, nor did the price. He became so well fed, he could barely get up from his little makeshift bed.\nThe only time he really did get up was when he smelled the cooking in the kitchen. \n The once skin and bones pup, now sheeted with many layers of fat, stared in the fire, anticipating the meal to come. It was early yet so he would need to be patient. Melvin for the first time, scooped him up in his arms tenderly and walked out towards the field. The pup's eyes light up for the first time, but not with joy. After about ten minutes through the field, Melvin stopped, with urine streaming down his chest, and the pup shaking in fear at the site of so many bones. \n ", "Patrick was sitting in his lounger, he just finished hand making it today. It was Saturday and his favourite actor was on TV so he was getting a great opportunity to use it for the time. The phone rang, work, he scoffed at the idea of going in on his days off. \n\nHe thought about what would really make a good evening perfect. He had the perfect idea. He threw a fresh steak on the BBQ with some potatoes in foil. With the meat simmered and seared he enjoyed an ice cold brew, local stuff, great taste. When the food was done he sat down at the table and devoured the meat and potatoes.\n\nWhen he was finished, he cleaned up the kitchen but left the dishes for tomorrow because some of them needed to soak overnight. He ran into the garage and cleaned up in there after his carpentry work. The day was coming to an end so he went upstairs and prepared his nightly rituals. He brushed his teeth and had a quick shower because he was quiet dirty after cleaning the garage. Got into his favourite PJ bottoms and got into bed.\n\nHe thought to himself, as he did at night, and went over his day. His day was perfect. First day off on sick leave from being a cop, it was excellent. He shut the wife up, made a chair out her bones and hide and ate her thigh on the BBQ. If that wasn't good enough, he was able to clean up all of the evidence in the garage too. He reached for his light, turned it off and sighed a relaxing sigh and exclaim, \"just perfect.\"", "\"I'm a lucky man\" I thought to myself as I looked at my new girlfriend across the table of a small cafe we were eating lunch at. She looked absolutely beautiful even when she wasn't trying. Neither of us were talking, yet it wasn't awkward. It was warm, I could see this lasting a long time. The moment was subsequently ruined by my butthole. I farted. She looked away and did one of those little nose laughs where it's like a more elegant snort.\n\"S-sorry I didn't even feel it coming...\" I stammer, embarrassed. She looks at me smiling, and says\n\"It's fine, just don't think about it.\"\nRight.\nOver the course of the next half hour, I keep apologizing and talking about it. She starts to get annoyed and tells me to\n\"Just FUCKing drop it. I don't care\"\nI'm relieved, she's not grossed out by me. I finally ask\n\"So y-you're still attracted to me?\"\nBefore she can answer, she farts. Surprised, she says\n\"See? Now we're even.\"\nI tackle her to the ground and knock her teeth out. Disgusting bitch.", "Ben stood back and looked at the house he and his team had just finished building. It was the tenth house they'd built since they arrived in Malawi. The sweat on his brow felt good. Seeing the children exploring the newly erected walls filled his body with euphoria.\n\nThe village was small, poor, and incredibly grateful to Ben and his company. Ben stood up, wiped the dust from his hands, and walked back through the village. As he went, he accepted grateful handshakes and high fives from passing villagers. Ben felt amazing. He felt like he was doing something constructive with his life.\n\nWith his jeep now in sight, Ben remembered one last thing he needed to do. He headed for the leader of the village's house. After speaking with the leader, whose name was Memory, in perfect Chewa, Ben handed Memory a document to sign. Memory and Ben embraced warmly.\n\nBen closed the driver's door of his jeep and placed his wide-brimmed hat on the passenger seat beside him. As he turned the key in the ignition, he noticed a child had approached his driver's side window. The child's name was Peter and he'd brought Ben a carved wooden house. Ben accepted it graciously and bid Peter farewell.\n\nFirst class seats had always felt strange to Ben, he felt the money he spent on them would have been better spent on something with the ability to yield a return. But they were an undeniably good place to catch up on paperwork. Ben opened his laptop and continued writing an email to his lawyer: \n\nThe Malawi offices have finished construction. Please find attached a copy of the local Government's approval for their use in a commercial capacity. Please forward me the documents necessary to operate the business from these new Malawi offices, and make sure to include the new Malawi tax forms. Additionally, inform the local police that there are a number of squatters present in the newly constructed buildings.\n\nKind regards, \nBen Haven", "James Galloway never enjoyed his craft. Surgery was a delicate business, and he knew that. For every patient you saved, there were five who you couldn't save. And he was the one who had to tell the distraught families that their son, daughter, grandmother, whoever they were, wasn't going to make it. And he hated that. He always dreaded giving them the news, and them breaking down and sobbing in his arms. He hated that.\n\nThe day was July 11, 2014. A day on the job like any other. And he had set to work in his operating room once again. On this particular day, he was fighting to fix a seven year old boy who had been horrifically injured. With blood staining his gloves, James toiled away for hours upon hours, pulling at flesh, and trying desperately to save the child. But, after hours upon hours of work, the heart monitor began emitting a long, droning beep, and James knew it was over. He swore loudly, and threw his scalpel to the floor. \n\nThis was the part of the job he hated. He couldn't fix them. They were too broken to fix. He repeated this to himself as he worked away at sawing the child's heart out of its chest cavity. They were too broken to fix. He repeated to himself as he slid the heart into an envelope, marked the address carefully onto it, and placed the child's toe, complete with a toe tag bearing his name, into the envelope. The taste of blood danced along his tongue as he licked the envelope and pressed it shut. They were too broken to fix. James repeated this to himself as he left the envelope on the child's family's doorstep. They were too broken to fix, he repeated to himself as he reclined in his armchair, and turned on the television. Seven missing children. Six of which's hearts had been found on the unfortunate family's doorstep mere days later. They were too broken to fix.", "The sun smiled brightly at me as I half walked, half skipped to my favorite florist shop. The scents of honeysuckle and gardenias tickled my nose as I turned a street corner. Today was going to be wonderful. When I finally made it to \"Ella's Petal Palace\" Ella greeted me with her signature priceless smile.\n\n\"Hey there stranger.\" she jested, \"come here often?\" The twang of her southern accent flowed through my ears like honey. Her auburn hair framed her sweet face delightfully. Before I could get lost in her cool blue eyes, I broke free of her trance and remembered my purpose. \n\n\"What you in for today sweetheart?\" She cooed. \n\n\"I'm looking for a variety bouche.\" I asserted. \n\nShe gave me wry grin. \"Johnny, you hound. It's not another lucky lady is it?\" \n\nMy cheeks were flooded with bright red embarrassment. The other women in the store glanced my way as well. Some of them chuckled amongst themselves, while others just smiled or winked. \"Oh please Ella, if anything, I'm the lucky one.\" \n\n\"Well then, maybe she's 'the one'.\" Ella teased jokingly. As she spoke, she sprawled her hands across the counter, and I noticed something was missing. \n\n\"Hey Ell, don't mean to pry, but-\" she answered my question before I could even ask it. \"We split up. I caught Jack up to his knees in some beach blonde secretary from his office. He'd taken work home before, but this was pushing it a little.\" Even as she joked, I could see the tears forming in her eyes. \n\nI held her hand and gazed into those baby blues. \"Any man dumb enough to let you go, doesn't even deserve to walk on the same street as you. You're special, and you deserve to be loved.\" \n\nElla smiled at me and regained her witty composure. \"Thank you John. Now what kind of flowers does your lady like?\" \n\n\"Not really sure, we're still getting to know each other. I trust your judgement though.\" \n\nShe giggled at this. \"Well I am a floral expert. Wait here, I'll fix you right up.\"\n\nShe came back a few moments later will a beautiful arrangement of flowers and handed them to me, still brandishing her trademark smile. As I reached into my wallet to pay, Ella raised her hand in protest. \"Put that old thing away. It looks like it's been to Afghanistan and back. This one's on the house.\"\n\nI smiled sheepishly in embarrassment. \"Yeah my dog got to it. You know how she likes to massacre my belongings. And I can't just takes these Ell.\" \n\n\"Yes you can. Make sure that girl of yours has a wonderful night. And buy that damn dog a chew toy.\" I couldn't help, but smile at her. \n\nAs I left the store, Ella yelled back at me. \"When are you gonna come take me out on one of your magical dates. Can't remember the last time I got to feel like a princess.\" \n\nI gave her another one of my sheepish grins before saying, \"Someday soon Ell.\" Then again under my breath, \"Someday soon.\" \n\nWhen I got home I put the bouche in some water while I got ready. Once I'd freshened up, I grabbed the flowers and gave myself the usual pep talk before a big date. \"You're special and you deserve to be loved. You're special and you deserve to be loved. You're special and you deserve to be loved.\" Then I opened the door and headed downstairs to the basement. My date was there. She looked beautiful, even in the dim light. She was glistening with sweat though. She must've been as nervous as I was. Her hands were tied to the chair she sat in. I needed to keep her safe. With monsters like Jake roaming around, she's safest down here. When she saw me she began to tremble and fidget. She was so excited. I went close to her and placed the flowers in her lap. I managed a nervous smile. \"Here, these are for you. I wasn't sure what you liked so there's a pretty good mix in there.\" She looked up at me and tears rolled down her eyes. My heart exploded in joy. She loved them! I pulled the tape off her mouth slowly so I didn't her. \"Please! Please let me go, I promise I won't tell anyone. I just wanna go home.\" Her auburn hair waved wildly as she begged and pleaded. Her words spoke a different story than her ocean-blue eyes gave away. I climbed the stairs as she went on with her hard-to-get routine like they always do. Once I got to the top, I repeated my mantra. \"You're special and you deserve to be loved.\" Then I shut the door.", "Now I fucking got him. This asshole thinks he can harass my family and get away with every day. He puts his hands on my sister, and touches my mother, and thinks that I was just going to take it?! No, no, no, not today. Today is the day I stop him.\n\nI sat silently as I watched him walk up the street. I had been preparing, watching him, trying to learn his movements. He had used to come by all the time, but my dad used to take care of him. Well, dad had been gone for a while, and this guy kept coming by, the smell of liquor on his breath, trying to rape my family. It ends now.\n\nAs he walked up the walk, I tried to scare him away the way dad had done.\n\n\"Hey, asshole! Hey, yeah you! Stay away from here, you understand? Go! Go! No one wants you here! One more step and I'll handle you myself!\"\nHe looked at me and gave me one of those stupid sloppy smiles.\n\n\"Hey, man. How are you?\"\n\n\"You better back up or so help me God, I'll kill you! I swear to God I'll kill you!\"\nHe kept smiling and put a finger to his lips as he knocked on the door. He was trying to trick them into letting him in! It was now or never. I ran right at him, hoping to get in between him and the door. \n\nBut something held me back. Was I doing the right thing? And then it snapped. I was! I was defending my family! I ran at him and tried to take him down. \n\nHe was tall but I had lived my life being short: I knew what to do. I backed up and went straight for his neck. He screamed as I grabbed him and threw him to the ground. I put all my anger into him, making sure he would never hurt my family again!\n\nJust then the door opened.\n\n\"Jacob?\" she asked, before screaming. Yes! The rapist was back, but not to worry, I was handling him!\n\n\"Mom! It's Jacob! Max is attacking him!\" she sobbed, clearly overcome by my heroic defense of our family. Yeah tell Mom to come, she'll want to see this! I continued to sink my teeth into this asshole's neck as I heard Mom coming down the stairs. She came outside and screamed and began crying.\n\n\"Max, Max, no! Bad dog! No, please stop!\" they yelled, grabbing me by the collar and trying to pull me off. How selfish of me, they would want to bite him too! I backed up, and stood there, my tail going a mile a minute. I looked at mom to make sure she was happy. But she just was sobbing as tears flowed down her face. Was she shaking? Probably because her little baby was all grown up and all that. I was the man of the house now!\n\nBut then my sister ran to the body and started choking him! She wrapped both arms around his mangled corpse and began crying! Clearly a scare tactic. Man I loved my family.\n\nDad would be proud.", "Brian peered forward, squinting through the Caribbean sun and another sparkling spray of salt water as his single-masted sloop cut through the emerald sea. He could hear the guffaws and hollers of Blackbeard's crew chasing his merchant ship...\n\n\"Beep Beep Beep Beep...\"\n\nBrian groaned and opened his eyes, blinking against the faint morning light filtering through his reddish bedroom curtains. He knew he shouldn't have stayed up to finish binging the second season of Master of None, but how could anyone resist the easy charm of Aziz Ansari? \n\nHe tossed his legs over the side of his bed, stumbled towards the bathroom and splashed through a puddle on the floor. Someone had showered already. After 25 years, he still didn't know how his wife could be so unfazed by so little sleep. He stepped into the shower, relishing the drum of warm water over his shoulders, until his eyes passed over the painting of a sleek schooner that hung over the toilet. Pirates, he thought. Why was it always about pirates?\n\n\"Dad?\" It was Alyssa in the hallway, breaking his reverie with a stern voice. \"Debate competition is tonight. This is your 12 hour warning.\"\n\n\"Wouldn't miss it for the world, honey,\" Brian shouted back over the din of the rushing water.\n\nAfter a pause, Alyssa replied. \"I'll call the office to remind you.\"\n\nFor years Brian was the most organized person he knew...second most organized person he knew. Then he had children and all three of them seemed to take the title from him overnight. But then, he supposed every parent felt that way at times. It isn't just that you see yourself in your children, sometimes you see your better-selves in them.\n\nBy the time he made his way downstairs everyone had found their way out the door, except for for their old mutt, Nettie, who rose her head upon hearing Brian's footsteps, and then promptly returned to sleep. Brian looked on jealously as he grabbed his coffee and headed out the door.\n\nTraffic was light as he wound his way into downtown Philly, listening to NPR on the way. As the shadows of the buildings began to stretch across the narrowing roads, he gracefully guided his car into an underground garage with a friendly wave for Felipe the security guard. He drove through the packed garage until he found the one empty spot right next to the elevator, with a small silver nameplate - Brian L. Roberts - CEO, Comcast.\n", "1:30 AM.\n\nThe simple white clock hung on the wall. Perched below it, an equally simple placard with a single, inspirational reminder, \n\n\"Everything has a cure.\"\n\nThe sign's words, like the clock's numbers, were getting hazy and hard to read. He'd been at this for 11 straight hours already. Looking back and forth from his microscope was exhausting his eyes. \n\nStill, he had to press on. He was so close to finding a cure. He could sense it. \n\n>1:31 AM. \n\n>Everything Has A Cure.\n\nHis work at the lab was rewarding, indeed. His team had defeated more illnesses in the last two years than any research team before them. Their grants had tripled over the last year, and they had found a cure for two deadly diseases previously labelled \"incurable\". \n\nTonight was simply another long night. \n\nThere were sacrifices to be made for certain. The demanding hours and constant stress had already cost him a marriage. The dangerous microbes they handled had already cost him a lab partner. No one on the team expected the work to be safe or easy. They simply expected it to be rewarding. \n\nFinding another cure tonight would be his latest reward. \n\nHe'd already tried the common solutions. Antibiotics: No Effect. Radiation: No Effect. Bacteriophage treatment: NO EFFECT. \n\nHis superiors and even his coworkers were close to giving up. They were starting to say a cure was impossible.\n\n>1:52 AM\n\n>Everything Has A Cure\n\n\"Well, one more try\", he thought as he dropped another solution into yet another sample dish.\n\nAnd then, the impossible happened. \n\nRather, two impossible things happened. First, the bacterial cells were dying. Not only dying, but dying rapidly; so rapidly that a treated patient should be able to benefit from treatment within hours.\n\nSecond, the Dr. had actually broken composure. The serious old man of the lab, with his somber expressions and his dogged work ethic, was actually laughing. \n\nA passerby might have mistaken the old man for a giddy teenager at a homecoming game. \n\n\"Dr. Brant 3 - Infectious Disease zeroooooooo!!!\" he chuckled to himself. \n\nSettled down, but still smiling, the Dr. sat down to his keyboard. \n\n.\n\n.\n\nTo: Director, Dept of Health and Human Research\n\nSubj: AD4768 - Cure Identified\n\nLaboratory testing confirms, bacterial organism AD4768 is highly reactive to vitamin C. Findings suggest that patients suffering from AD4768 related illness could be given vitamin C doses sufficient to destroy the bacteria with a high probability of survival and recovery.\n\nRecommendations: Suggest cross breeding AD4768 with Clostridium Botulinum to remove vitamin C vulnerability and increase bioagent survivability. Reassess results in 6 months. Should resulting strain prove treatment resistant, forward research to dispersal and delivery section for next stage of development. \n\nSubmitted, \n\nDr. KD Brant, Vulnerability Assessor\n\nBiologics Lab, Unconventional Warfare Ministry \n\n\n-Everything Has A Cure", "Dave felt the rug beneath his feet before his eyes began to see the outlines in the room. It was still early, and he hoped to get started before his wife woke up. He silently lifted off the bed to find his way to the bathroom down the hall. He looked back at her silhouette, barely moving with her soft, tired breaths. \n\nHe went through the typical routine. A heavy morning piss, pulled on some running shorts, splashed some water on his face with his unwashed hands and sliced through the thinning hair on top of his head with his fingers so it would at least all face the same general direction. He walked to the kitchen, drank some milk straight from the refrigerator, pulled out his oats and munched on breakfast as if today was the same as any other day. And it was, really. He just felt the desire to get started a little earlier this time. \n\nOnce dressed, he leaned his head into their bedroom and whispered, \"I love you, Meredith.\" Her breathing didn't change, but he liked to think that somewhere, deep down, she knew that he did it each day before he left. He wondered what she would have planned for dinner tonight. And then, he was off, floating in his mind and organizing the day ahead of him.\n\nDave pulled out of the driveway, and started on his commute. He passed Ana on her early morning run, and raised some fingers to say hello. She would come sometimes, to tell Meredith about the lastest news in their social circle. Listen, but don't tell her anything. That was the household policy with Ana. He merged onto the two-lane highway, heading West. His drive took about an hour to get to the office in Chicago. Other cars began trickling into highway, everyone with the same idea as Dave. He took great care to maintain the speed limit, never wanting to break the rules or draw attention to himself. After moving over for a car to merge into the highway for the third time, he put his cruise control on to 55 miles per hour, and kept himself in the left lane for the rest of his peaceful commute.\n\n(Edited for typos)", "William couldn't believe his luck. His Phone just buzzed with a message from Nomi, the only girl whose heart he had ever desired. He'd added her on Facebook a couple weeks ago, after seeing her across the street in the town they grew up in. He didn't dare to say anything then, Will was ever the introvert, and simply walking up to an old high school classmate was too frightening, so he tried his luck online. It took three days for her to accept his 'friend request', and two weeks before she finally replied to his message. But here it was! He caught himself wondering how it was possible that the words 'Tomorrow at 8?' could produce such an astonishing feeling of warmth. He typed a quick 'see you there!' and suppressed the desire to add anything that would show his enthusiasm. \n \nThey met at the cinema, like he had proposed. He was an hour early, she was ten minutes late, but they were still just in time for the movie. Will had put in his best effort to look dressed up, yet casual. Nomi had apparently done the same. \"Hey you,\" she said, after which she gave him a swift hug. There was that warm feeling again. She had grown into quite a pretty girl; long blonde hair, a cute face, a good fashion sense, and still those amazingly deep green eyes. \"You look exquisite!\" exclaimed Will. He had already lost any pre-conceived notion of hiding his enthusiasm. Nomi didn't seem to mind though, as she blushed quite heavily. \n \nThey were halfway through the movie. It was an unremarkable chick-flick, yet the acting was remarkably good. Nomi grabbed another handful of popcorn that Will had bought for them. His hand was still in there when she reached, and their fingers met somewhere on the bottom of the large container. Both of them stopped moving, their hands suspended in a sea of salted popcorn. Right as Will wanted to move his hand again, Nomi slowly brushed one of his fingers. Minutes later the container was on the floor and they were holding hands, while the story in front of them slowly grew to a dramatic yet very romantic conclusion. \n \nAfter several hours, William finally got back home. He had spent the rest of the evening in his car with Nomi next to him, and at a certain point on top of him. Still filled with joy, he removed his shoes and his scarf, put his clothes in the washer, then walked upstairs to take a shower. It took him quite a while to scrub his hands and his face. After cleaning the shower, he looked in the mirror, satisfied. This was a truely wonderful night, far better than he had imagined it last night after Nomi's reply. He would never be hungry for love again, her heart was now forever his. He noticed a small piece of it still stuck between his teeth. A quick floss fixed that, and he finally went to bed. William couldn't believe his luck." ]	[ 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 4, 4, 4, 10, 11, 26, 29, 80, 92, 246 ]	[ "1501086266", "1501110048", "1501113580", "1501115728", "1501139528", "1501153090", "1501089295", "1501102267", "1501141567", "1501100183", "1501109548", "1501091012", "1501103181", "1501096921", "1501090375", "1501089761" ]
	[WP] It's been a hundred years. Love is a Class 1 felony, punishable with life in prison.	27	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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's like hitting snooze on your alarm clock in the morning. It feels so good and so right, even if you know in some sleep-hazy part of your mind that there might be terrible consequences. Even if there's some vague notion of danger. In the moment, it's the most pressing need you have\n\nhim\n\nI don't care about coming off as too clingy or needy. I'm too open with him, I'm not playing games with him. This is love. This is dangerous. This is how people get hurt.\n\nNot for the first time, I wondered how badly love must hurt in the end for it to be outlawed completely. I've seen the movies, read the books from the old days when people fell in love with abandon, fucking up their lives every other year with a new failed romance. New apartment, new city, new everything. Because apparently love was that toxic - it would poison everything it was allowed to touch\n\nI can't believe the stories. Right now, all I can believe is him. His hands on my \nface. His hands on my waist. The feel of his back muscles when he holds me tight. All I can see is the kindness in his eyes when he looks at me. I can't see the future where I'm left heartbroken, trying fruitlessly to push thoughts of him from my mind.\n\nAlarms are going off in my mind. Warning, they say. This is love. This is danger.\n\nAlarms are going off. I hit snooze one more time." ]	[ 1, 8 ]	[ "1501110056", "1501112324" ]
	[WP] You are a prince who is supposed to be crowned king in a few days. Wellp, too bad because a dragon has kidnapped you. What happens once you get to the dragon's lair?	6	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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", "\"AAAAAAHHHHHHHH!\" Was about the only noise I could make as the Dragon swept me from the ground and into the skies. A sound I continued to expel pointlessly as gale force winds muted any noise I could have possibly made. This went on for about ten minutes and then I passed out, high altitudes and excessive oxygen usage didn't seem to mix very well.\n\nI awoke still in the clutches of the scaly beast that stole me away. A great winged monster with dark red scales that seemed to glisten menacingly under the moonlight. Twice the size of any exotic beast I'd seen in my life, easily outweighing the largest of African elephants.\n\nWithout warning the dragon descended through to clouds towards a large castle, recently abandoned by the looks of the estate. I question if the previous occupants left willingly considering it was this dragons destination.\n\nIt suddenly released its grip upon me, dropping me into a pile of hay through an opening in the castle's top. Odd I thought, the hay had been piled neatly in place of a bed within a royal's room. Why would a dragon bother busting a hole in the roof of a castle to just to a make bed of hay? I could not waste time pondering such I thought. Any plans this dragon had for me were not in my best interest.\n\nScanning the room quickly I discovered a sword, fine craftsmanship, and a well-fitting garb. Adorning both in preparation of battle I made my way towards the door. \n\nUnlocked, odd I thought. The dragon must trust its ability to keep me from fleeing on foot. An error it would soon regret, there were no cages which could keep me. I'd fought off an army of northerners and a dozen marriage proposals, nothing could stop me. \n\nAs I entered the grand arching hallways of the castle I quickly made for the kitchens. Any castle with a half-decent staff always included a few quick exits in the kitchens. I'd need to cut through the main dining hall, no trouble I imagined.\n\nI imagined wrong. Upon entering the main dining hall I was immediately struck by the smell of a freshly cooked meal. Not something a dragon would bother with, but a well-prepared dish. I looked around in confusion for the source of the smell and found myself drawn to the kitchens I had been targeting. And... bloody hell, was someone singing down there?\n\n\"Cook in a pot, never worry 'bout rot, mum used to say, just cook it with hay!\" Sang a woman's voice from the kitchens. Nothing spectacular I thought, but there was a certain beauty to the rustic tones. I'd always preferred women of the countryside, never could never trust royalty. \n\nA slave of the dragon perhaps? I'd best not risk an encounter. I turned to move towards the other end of the dining hall, passing portraits of royals I'd never known, finely crafted chair for royal dinners, a place setting for two.\n\nWait, what? A table set for two? Did the dragon have more than one servant? Stop it I thought, escape first, then questions. Don't forget about the dragon.\n\nThe dragon. That's right. Since being dropped into this castle I'd not heard a single word from the monster. No beating of wings, breath of fire, scratching of claws. In fact, beyond the faint tune of the singing woman it was rather quiet. \n\nRealization hit like a brick. I turned quickly, hand on my blade and sweat on my brow, to face the kitchen door. Almost simultaneously the singing woman burst through the door with her arms full of food.\n\nShe was lovely, I thought. Not beautiful like royalty, but a cheerful faced young woman only a few years less than myself. Dressed in a loose-fitting maids dress, comfortable if not unrefined attire. She noticed me and stopped in her tracks. Face flush with sudden fright as she glanced me over.\n\nSo this was the dragon. Assuming a mortal form to blend in among society. I would not be so easy to trick, no false visage would stay my hand from removing this dragons head. I readied to swiftly close the distance and cleave the dragons head in one motion. To watch it's red curly-haired head roll across the cold stones as its lifeless green eyes stared back at me with a shock expression etched into its adorable dimples.\n\nA long moment paused while neither of us moved.\n\nShit, I thought. Dragon or not I couldn't draw a sword on a lady.\n\n\"Take form you foul monster!\" I yelled in challenge. I could not strike a woman with my blade, but a dragon was fair game.\n\nShe quickly released the food from her grip and sent it scattering across the floor as she snapped her hands to her face and clawed at her skin.\n\nAnd cried. Before turning to run back into the kitchen.\n\n\"The hell.\" I whispered to myself. Standing alone in the grand dining hall of an abandoned castle taken over by a currently weeping dragon in human form hiding in the kitchen.\n\nMaybe I shouldn't have called her foul. \"It.\" I corrected myself aloud. Still a dragon, just disguised as a woman.\n\nI think, or a woman that can turn herself into a dragon. Honestly magic is a bit confusing and I never really bothered with it. \n\nFocus! Ok, dragon in the kitchens. Might as well check it out.\n\nI lumbered defensively across the hall and into the kitchens. More food had been prepared and was sitting in bowls and upon plates on the long tables. A feast for at least a dozen, not sure this dragon knew what size human portions were supposed to be.\n\nI heard a sniffle coming from a pile of potatoes sacks. Good lord she's hiding from me behind vegetables. As I approached I noticed my hand still tightly clutching the handle of my blade. I let go, dragons not much threat in human form I suppose. \n\nI stood before the dragons hiding place. The fact a lightly crying woman was hiding behind the sacks of potatoes extremely obvious.\n\n\"Hello?\" I asked, unsure of exactly why I was.\n\nShe stopped breathing. I took a small step back expecting the dragon to spit fire at me and waited to react. After about thirty seconds she gasped for air and it became painfully obvious she was only trying to hide her presence.\n\nEnd of Part I" ]	[ 1, 10 ]	[ "1501123401", "1501129638" ]
	[WP] "My name is Hermes and I am the god of speed."	5	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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", "Nothing can ever really die.\n\nNot even us, with our weak flesh bodies or the crumbling hunks of stone and metal we wreathe ourselves in. Or, in fact, the weaker forms we make for ourselves, our stories are written in paper or rock or buried in flesh. Our stories still walk the world, and will do so it seems long after we breathe our last. They linger, like phantoms hewn to the very land itself. Carved into mountains, poured into rivers, found in swirling eddies of cloud and the brightest rays of light our stories find a home, forever watching, forever writing themselves until the eventual end of it all.\n\nI still remember the day I met one of those living stories, an archetype that clung to every vague, mythological aspect of itself. One might have even called it a god once, a piece of literature that moved and swayed with the world itself and changed humanity for better or worse. A figment of human imagination whispered and sung throughout all of time, from before the beginning and after the end.\n\n*********************************************************************************************\n\nThe city churned, bleak and gray in the evening light. Spring was slowly morphing into summer, the earth moist and the air wild. Graffiti sprang forth amongst alley walls as living stories in their own right, the roads, and pavement whispering to each other in a speech of cracks and lines. Glass gods and iron idols glared down at their meek human worshippers. Invisible spirits hovered loftily through the air, the descendants of angels and demons, ghosts, and ghouls. The city was alive, a great world of concrete, glass and steadfast iron. It all stunk of humanity, of ash and smoke and burning fat.\n\nPeople moved in a vast swarm, a sea of flesh that wriggled and wormed endlessly as a carpet of thrumming, shifting bodies. Some were gods in their own right, the inheritors of legends far older than their memories, while others were the simplest of folk, the faceless force that sweltered as long as masters were there to rise above them. Finally, there were the wizards, the magicians, the storytellers. The makers and weavers, prophets and poets, the ones whose words tweaked and warped the world to their own delights. Creators of the gods, builders of this discorporate, sullen place. Some dabbled with paint and oil to birth beings of unimaginable beauty while others spat thoughts and feelings into marvels of the mind that lasted for as long as time.\n\nThis was the city, a land of living stories, of humans and gods and now, as the plot requires, a conflict.\n\nI was walking through the shadows, in vain attempting to hide away from the glaring lights and puzzling eyes. The guardians in blue with silver stars were nowhere to be seen, lost within coffee breaks and the sounds of gunfire. I was safe, secure, awaiting the next key to bliss.\n\nThe dealer was unassuming, blank faced with feathery hair and deep, hollow eyes. He jittered and twitched, his fingers flickering uneasily as I approached. He was not alone on the street corner - whores and other dealers of pleasure stood awaiting customers, sockets trained at the flickering mass of humanity, each awaiting their own hit. \n\n\"How much is this gonna cost me?\" I said, voice low, unassuming, difficult to trace.\n\n\"How about this,\" he mumbled, his voice bleeding into whisper.\n\n\"I want a story,\" he gasped. \"A tale to be told for the rest of time. I am Hermes, the god of speed,\" he muttered, hollow eyes now staring deep into mine.\n\n\"Deal. Any other requests?\"\n\n\"That you stop doubting me. I've been around the block a couple of times, kiddo. Trust me on this,\" he stuttered, the twitching becoming irregular, violent.\n\nTurning away, he sauntered into the night.\n\nSo, I had the key to the Door of Dreams, a ticket to the great, delirious train of gods. All contained within a little packet of white powder sealed shut with a simple silicon glue.\n\n*********************************************************************************************\n\nThe rush home was uneventful, the steps retraced a thousand times. I was one of a billion black cars, each driving forwards on the highway of time, a borderless river that continued ever forward, never slowing or stopping. The night became a canvas of color and neon light, the modern willow wisps. The fae glimmered and giggled, enticing with their gifts, each a trap tied in a ribbon of sweetness. Ghouls and ghost lingered in the shadows, forgotten larvae feasting on the city of the damned. It was getting late, and the bag of powder was growing uncomfortably heavy in my pocket.\n\nI arrived at my loft and hurried inside, the door bolting shut with a mechanical click. The room was shabby, brown and damp, unassuming, unwelcoming. Just the way I liked it.\n\nBy the window stood briefcase, old black leather that stunk of polish and the caresses of a thousand stories. Inside it, nested like a Russian doll, lay a type writing, glinting copper in the faint, twilight. The keys were worn but pearly, the sheets of paper yellow but strong, hardy.\n\nCarefully, I opened the bag, letting the powder slide down my tongue.\n\nThe effect was instantaneous.\n\nIt came in a rush, an endless stream of words that billowed out, a tide of ink that flooded from my heart, my soul. It stood bravely on the paper, a hero on a quest to kill a villain, rescue a damsel in distress. It found its mentor in the scurrying of keys and the flat patter of noise that echoed, a sound that threatened to engulf everything. Nothing stood in its way, not the city or the gods or the people who made them. I felt the world shrink, disappear, my body growing distant, my mind falling away like leaves on an autumn oak.\n\nSoon the hero was at battle with the villain, a king clad in armor black as ink and wielding a sword of carefully forged words. His visor was blacker than his soul and his billowing red cape the stain of blood that dripped from my nose. Meanwhile, the hero, mousy and small but armed with a sling and all the wits prepared to do battle.\n\nThe magic brewed, the land beginning to grow around them. The world within a world within a world. I was a god who worshipped gods who created gods. The characters became alive, tore themselves off the page and fought, each grunt, gasp, and their final breath real, physical things that wavered taught in the air. Life grew within them, a vital spark that glowed and faltered as they died and were reborn with the clicking of keys and the stains of ink.\n\nThen, with a sigh of relief, the world drew back into focus and the gods lay dead across the many beaten pages.\n\nHeroes, villains, lords and ladies and hideous monsters. Made and baded farewell with the rippling of the page, with the final flicker of the keys.\n\n***********************************************************************************************\n\nStories, they are alive. Forever burned into our minds, cauterized on our souls they live within us, within all.\n\nSpectral gods made by living hands, endless thoughts spun on boundless lands.\n\nStories are gods. Idols of word and letter, monsters of thought and feeling.\n\nThey burn within us, they burn with us.\n\nEven with the dying of the light.\n\nNow, I bid you goodnight.", "\"I'm Scout. That's Sonic, Barry, Wally, Quicksilver, and-ahh!\"\n\n\"Cheers love!\" \n\n\"Screw you, Tracer! Stop doing that.\" \n\n\"I'm sorry, what?\"\n\nI took a chicken leg from my bucket. \"We're having a speed competition. Oh, hey Eobard!\" \n\n\"Scout! How's it going-ow!\"\n\n\"Barry, don't punch Thawne. We're all friends here.\" \n\nbam\n\n\"DID YOU JUST TRY TO SHOOT TRACER?!?\"\n\n\"Sniper!\" \"Sorry mate.\" \n\nI watched as Sniper took his rifle and walked back to the bleachers. He never really trusted Tracer. Hermes spoke up again. \n\n\"I'm sorry, what is happening?\" \"We're gathering the fastest people in the second place of meta-physical realities.\" \"What?\" \"Fastest fictional people.\" \n\nHermes nodded. \"And what are you from?\" \n\n\"Me, Tracer and Sonic are from video games. Me and Tracer's games are similar to each other-\" BONK*\"-so we tend to not get along.\" \"Ow!\" \"Sorrynotsorry.\" \"And the others?\" \"Eobard, Wally and Barry are from the Flash continuity. Quicksilver's from the MCU.\" \"I died to quickly.\" \"Yes you did.\" \n\nTracer recalled back to me. \"You sent me flying 675 feet!\" \"New record!\" \"In getting sick of that.\" I tossed my bag around and grabbed some more chicken. \"Hey, if everybody else is good with it, it should be fine by you. By the way Hermes, you know Mercury?\" \n\n\"Yes.\" \"Good. He's coming too. And the race is in and hour, so get ready! " ]	[ 1, 1, 1 ]	[ "1501145355", "1501152476", "1501154886" ]
	[WP] You die and are judged by God. He sends you to Hell. You expect to suffer for all eternity, only to arrive to find out that the denizens of Hell have created a civilized society in the harsh wasteland that is Hell.	66	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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", "\"Let me guess,\" said the man in the slick pinstripe suit. \"Not what you expected, right?\" \n\nI glanced at him sidelong. It wasn't just the expensive suit that looked slick. His hair, jet black and swept back from his temples, was shimmering in the light, as was his greasy pencil mustache. He looked like a 1920's era gangster. The smirk on his face was bugging me, but I decided to let it slide. \n\n\"Not at all, no,\" I said. \"I was expecting more...\" My hand waved in vague gestures while I tried to think of the words. \n\n\"Fire and brimstone?\" Slick said. \"Pain and suffering? Pools of lava where the souls of the damned would forever drown?\" \n\n\"Yeah, something like that,\" I replied, glancing around. There was a pool, it turns out, but it definitely didn't have lava in it. \"This looks more like a resort. An expensive one, at that.\" \n\nSlick laughed. \"Yeah, we get that a lot. Come on, I'll show you around.\" \n\nWe made our way down the rocky path, me rubbing my chest every once in a while. The heart attack was over and done with, but I could still feel a phantom echo of the pain. It seemed to be fading, at least. \n\n\"Over here, we have the welcoming center,\" Slick said, gesturing towards a large, marble-faced building. \"We'll get you checked in in a moment. Over that way, you'll find the temporary lodgings and dining hall—you'll be expected to get a job and pull your own weight eventually, but we'll give you a few weeks to settle in.\" \n\nI let out a burst of laughter. \"A job? Seriously?\" \n\nSlick turned the full force of his smirk back on me. \"You bet. This may be Hell, but we're not savages.\" \n\nI felt a sinking feeling in my gut. \"So, it really is Hell, then? It's not... something else?\"\n\n\"Yeah, no. Sorry, bud. It's really Hell. Outcast and forlorn, forever denied the face of God. That bother you?\" \n\n\"Kind of. I always tried to be a good man.\" \n\nSlick snorted. \"As if it mattered. Hell is full of good people, friend. You know how many people actually get into Heaven?\" \n\nI shook my head. \n\n\"Less than one out of every million who die every year. The qualifications for that place are ridiculous. Even the most devout and religious aren't all that likely to end up there.\" \n\n\"Ah.\" I looked around. There were other presumably-damned souls wandering around, many of them looking just as lost and confused as I felt. Each of them had another person walking with them, usually wearing expensive-looking formal clothes. It hit me that these must be other lost souls getting their own guided tours of their new eternal home.\n\n\"Don't let it bug you too much. You know what you'd be doing if you were in Heaven?\" \n\nI shrugged. I didn't trust my voice right then. \n\n\"Singing praises to God. You know what else you'd be doing?\" When I shook my head, he leaned in and grinned. \"Nothing.\" \n\n\"Nothing?\" \n\n\"Nope. Nothing. Just singing praises to God, twenty-four seven—not that time has any real meaning in Heaven or Hell. And you'd enjoy it, too, for all eternity. You wouldn't have a choice. It wouldn't even occur to you to want to do anything else.\" \n\nI shuddered. \"Doesn't sound like paradise.\" \n\n\"It ain't,\" Slick said, shaking his head. \"Never trust a paradise you didn't build yourself, that's our motto down here.\" \n\nI looked around again with a more appraising eye. Buildings big and small stretched off in all directions, broken up by boulevards of trees and the occasional park. \"You built all of this?\" \n\n\"Yeah, of course. Well, not me personally, not all of it. It's a group effort. It's why I say you'll have to get a job eventually.\" Something must have shown through on my face, because Slick laughed and clapped me on the back a couple of time. \"Don't worry, it's not like it's hard work, and you'll get plenty of time off to do whatever you want. We've got all eternity, no need to rush. Your first job will be to help build yourself a house. Then, it's just whatever needs to be done when it needs to be done. We're all in this together, so we help each other out.\" \n\nI considered that. \"That doesn't seem so bad,\" I said eventually. \n\n\"It's better than the sulfur pits and demons,\" Slick said. \"Which were real at one point, by the way.\" \n\n\"Demons? Seriously?\" \n\nSlick nodded as we walked past a marble statue of a gowned woman holding up a sword in her right hand. \"Oh, yeah. The place was lousy with 'em, back in the day. They were stupid as Hell, no pun intended. Thought the best way to keep us down was to make us suffer constantly. Turns out, all that meant was that we had nothing to lose by rebelling.\" \n\n\"What happened to them?\"\n\n\"Killed most of 'em,\" Slick said, nodding his head towards the statue. I took a second look and noticed that the marble woman was holding a severed head in her left hand. \"It's hard work, killing a demon, but it ain't like we didn't have plenty of time. The ones who surrendered mostly work in Administration.\" \n\n\"Oh. And what about...\" I trailed off, looking around nervously, unwilling to say the name.\n\n\"Let me guess. You're wondering about the big guy, right? Lucifer?\" Slick chuckled. \"Don't worry about him. He's almost never around. Spends most of his time muttering and planning an assault on Heaven. Never bothers us. I think we're beneath his notice.\" Slick shrugged. \"He ever makes his move, there's plenty of folks down here willing to help him.\" I must have looked shocked, because he chuckled and patted me on the back again. \"They got loved ones who actually made it into Heaven, see. They want to rescue 'em.\" \n\nI nodded vaguely, still feeling lost. It still didn't feel totally real. But at least I wasn't afraid anymore. \n\n\"You good?\" \n\nThere was a long moment of silence while I mulled that over. \"You know what? Yeah. Yeah, I think I'm good.\" \n\n\"Great. Let's get you checked in and registered, then. And, buddy?\" \n\n\"Yeah?\" \n\nSlick grinned and opened his arms wide. \"Welcome to Hell!\" " ]	[ 1, 52 ]	[ "1501172998", "1501195940" ]
[deleted]	[WP] You're at a laundromat when suddenly, pushing the coins into the washing machine transports you into another dimension. You're still in the laundromat, but something's off about your clothes.	1	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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", "Okay, this isn't funny anymore. It definitely was machine #3, right? Because these can't be my clothes. I don't even have a green shirt! And this orange vest... who would wear this garbage?\n\nOn second look, it isn't all bad, though. Compliments the shirt nicely. And... a purple suit and pants? And a purple bowtie? You aren't even supposed to machine wash this stuff!\n\nStill, it's something to wear, at least. I pull it out from the machine, and I hear a metallic clang. What on earth could that be? I reach in and find... a revolver? Okay, now this definitely isn't okay. Who forgets his gun in his jacket before washing it? I examine it closely... were my hands always this pale? Anyway, the gun's probably ruined. I stand up and would take the laundry basket, but something's terribly wrong. There's a mirror on the wall. And in it... my face? I'm deathly pale, somehow have crimson lipstick and my hair... it's vivid green!\n\nOkay, I must be hallucinating. This is one really bad day. I can't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all, bent over and slapping my knees.\n\nI hear a noise from the door. Was it always this dark in here? There's a figure standing in the way. A tall, muscular shadow with a cape and a cowl.\n\nOh boy, this is gonna suck." ]	[ 1, 3 ]	[ "1501215859", "1501233452" ]
If you don't know what I mean by cosmic horror: http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/CosmicHorrorStory	[WP] Write a cosmic horror story in the style of Dr. Seuss.	12	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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", "Jimmy Mcgee wanted a poodle \nSo he, so to say, strained his noodle.\n\nI'll adopt one! \nHe thought, but his plan was for nought \nFor his mother hated the very thought.\n\nFine then! He screamed! \nHis tear-filled eyes gleamed. \nAll hope is lost, woe is Jimmy Mcgee! \nBut then, His Idea came to be.\n\nI'll make one myself, he realised with glee. \nAfter all, how hard can it possibly be? \n\n&nbsp;\n\nSo he studied the ruddy \nAnd often times cruddy, \nBooks in the library. \n\nBooks on: \nBotany, Flotany, Grotany, \nThotany, Whotany, Monotony. \nMystics, Herstics, Phlurstrics, \nGlurstics, Blurstics, Heuristics. \nAstromancy, Bistromancy, Ystromancy, \nAnd finally, Necromancy.\n\nHe found what he sought in a book bound with human skin, \nHis flesh and mind crawled with what was within. \nRituals on every named and unnamed evil, \nSo terrible and dangerous as to be inconceivable. \n\nAmongst the terrible secrets and doodles, \nHe found a page marked \"Instant Poodles\"! \nAnd so little Jimmy read aloud, \nA page from the terrible Necronomicon of Daud!\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAll hell broke loose! \nJimmy nearly fainted, his mind reeling from the abuse \nOf what he was seeing. \nAll manner of great and terrible beings! \n\nWhere the library once stood, now hung instead \nA portal to the land of Poodles and DREAD. \n\nOut strode: \nShoggoths, Bloggoths, Hyo'goghs, \nRyoghogs, Globboths and Poodles of Wroth! \nNightgaunts, Dayhaunts, Dreadfaunts, \nDeathblaunts, Headnaunts and Undead Poodles aflaunt! \nX'thylcee, Thyxxree, Blyxtee, \nZethees, Blethees and the Dread Poodles of Screed!\n\n\nThe sky turns to blood and the oceans to stone, \nNations collapse as these strange creatures roam. \nSome try to beg, others to plead \nBut their cries are all silenced by the Dread Poodles of Screed.\n\n\n&nbsp;\n\nJimmy, poor Jimmy, of house Mcgee \nWent quite mad at the sights he had seen. \n\nHe cried and cried, \nTried and tried, \nTo erase his mistake. \nHe tore out his eyes and maimed his own face \nBut what he had done couldn't be erased.\n\n\n\n\n" ]	[ 1, 8 ]	[ "1501229945", "1501236542" ]
	[WP] The city was in ruins. The zombies had come and gone. The streets were silent. The apocalypse had ended, seemingly taking humanity with it... and yet, graffiti kept popping up everywhere.	194	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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'd never been very good at interpreting graffiti, even before they came. But, I'd never lamented my lack of understanding more than I had in the last few days. \n\nGraffiti popped up with astonishing frequency. From what I heard from the underground community in London, those that were still alive felt that graffiti was the only way left to express themselves.\n\nI stood by what used to be called Mile End Station, staring at a series of geometric patterns. It looked like a series of squares to me. But Sally saw something more.\n\n\"It's a map, dude, obviously. What do you think this dot is? It represents where we are now.\" She said, supremely confident.\n\n\"You could be right. But where does the map want us to go?\" I asked, feeling the weight of my mediocrity heavily upon me. Even now, amongst the ruins of civilisation, I felt my life was inconsequential. Little did I know, that was about to change.\n\n\"I'd say it wants us to go to Abney Park Cemetery. The directions are clearly north of here.\" Sally said, still confident.\n\n\"Alright. Let's check it out. It's not as though that area is patrolled by a group of wannabe zombies and their violent henchmen: it'll be fine.\" I said, sarcasm as obvious as I could make it.\n\n\"Don't be like that. We have knives, guns, all the blunt force objects we could want, right here!\" Sally said, gesturing to the surrounding landscape. The area around us was littered with the broken wooden beams of nearby buildings. \n\n\"Will it even be worth it? What makes you think this map leads to anything of value? It's painted on a wall for anyone to see.\" I said, sceptical.\n\n\"No one comes down here. This is by the train tracks. Who would risk this back when the trains were still running? This map could have been here for ages.\" Sally said, reassuringly. \n\n\"Maybe. But I'm still not convinced it'll be worth it.\" I said, not wanting to leave the cosy hideout Sally and I had spent months building.\n\n\"I love you. You love me. You trust me. You know that when I see a graffito, I see more than meets the eye. I know these guys, I know how they think. This series of squares wouldn't even look like a map to most people; only someone that's familiar with graffiti culture would understand this. They wanted someone like me to follow the map!\" Sally said, passion raising the volume of her words.\n\n\"Alright. You're right. I trust you. You know this world. You know why they would leave something like this, possibly for us to find. Let's hope we survive long enough to prove you right.\" I responded, my resolve hardening, my fist clutching my machete tighter.\n\n“Good. I knew you’d see things objectively: that’s why I love you, you appreciate that wisdom exists outside yourself, as well as within yourself.” Sally said tenderly.\n\nThe pair embraced and kissed passionately. A few yards away, a gang surrounded them, their weapons reflecting the dull light of dusk.\n", "Static hisses on screen\n\n\"Okay, the camera is ... on. Microphone is working. Nav System is engaged. Right, my name is Yschen. I have been assigned as an observer to Erth, as the humahns call it. About three of their decades ago, there was an armageddon level event. I have been selected to investigate the planet. I will be porting down to one of the capital cities of the planet shortly.\"\n\nI turn my head, trying to not stare at the screen showing what I was seeing. I have been reading up on Erth culture for years. I loved my job, it was such a fascinating planet, despite the silly little scuffle it engaged in with itself. The Zees, as we refer to them were a proto-virus which affected the mental state of the Humans. Like I mentioned, the Zees had come and gone, and I was being sent to investigate New York City.\n\nI loved the stories about the Giant Apple, I mean Big Apple. And having scanned the city multiple times with our probes over the years, I was confident i knew the layout of the streets, if not their names. But that is what the Nav System is for.\n\n\"Yschen, report to the port chamber!\" The captain of this observation vessel ordered.\n\nObedience is a trait drilled into us from a young age. Darting through the corridors, I make it to the port chamber. The port technician stood there, glaring at me. Apparently my sick love of Human culture made me an abomination among my own kind. Kind of like the homosexuals, genetically the same, we just appreciate different things in life.\n\nI stand on Port Pad 1, and nod.\n\nA shimmer of light engulfs me, and i am standing in a large open area with tall buildings around me. Glancing around, I recognize it as Times Square.\n\n\"Yschen reporting. Port was successful, and I am standing in what was known as Times Square. As you can see, there has been moderate damage to the area, but the buildings appear stable. Humans can build some things that last fairly well,m it seems.\"\n\nI pan around slowly, my eyes and the camera lens taking in the images of the area. Broken glass, cracked concrete, dead television panels and tattered billboards. Skeletal bodies are scattered around or people and vehicles. It is a depressing joy I experience. I am finally here, at Time Square, but the human race was wiped out.\n\n\"Scanner indicates movement to your left.\" A voice calls out in my earpiece.\n\nIt was kind of important to speak with your observation vessel in case bad things happen.\n\n\"Likely to be a small bird or rodent, but will verify.\"\n\nLooking to my left, the voice clarifies exactly how far left. I nod slowly, and walk straight ahead. I look around slowly, keeping my senses peaked. Walking down one of the streets, I notice a badly damaged storefront, I can't even understand the shop's former name. The deafening silence is more depressing, more than anything.\n\nSilence seems to ripple down the street, and I look around.\n\n'Steven was here'. Don't remember seeing that graffiti before, but I wasn't paying attention to thinks like graffiti as they spoil the look of the city's character. I keep walking down the street, and I see a small bird flutter above me, before flying off.\n\n\"Yschen, just clarifying the movement was caused by the bird.\"\n\nI smile at the admittance, and look around slowly. I can see a comic book store, in ruins. I head inside, and see the tattered remains of the store. Who knows what tales of speculative fiction are now lost, I muse sadly to myself.\n\nTurning around, I pause.\n\n'Tyler was here.'\n\nI freeze.\n\n\"Yschen, respond. Is everything okay?\" The voice asks.\n\n\"Control, please playback footage sent, and verify the existence of that?\" I say, pointing at the graffiti I know wasn't there before.\n\n\"One moment.\"\n\nI glance around.\n\n'Charles was here.' 'Ike was here.', 'Terry was here.' 'Sam was here.' 'Paul was here.' James, Kelly, Ted. The graffiti just kept showing up no matter where I looked. I got one of those sensations from my primal part of my brain. GET OUT, that part of my brain demanded.\n\nHowever, I was more evolved. I never had to worry about anything on this planet that could kill me, all major threats were dead. As I started to walk out of the store. My earpiece screeched loudly. Wincing, I happened to look back, when I noticed the names were gone, only one word was there.\n\nRUN!\n\nAnd I did. That primal part, encouraged me as I ran out of the store. I started looking around but couldn't see anything.\n\n\"Control, are you there?\" No response.\n\nI pull out my weapon, and look around again. Background noise chirped as I tried to figure out what I was to run from. Nothing. I start to put my weapon back, but given I still haven't heard from Central, I keep my weapon out. Just in case.\n\nAfter a while, my nerves calm down and I am now exploring again. It takes a while, but I make it to Central Park. Or as it came to be known as New York's Last Stand.\n\nI stand at the edge of the park, and I can feel my memory drift to watching the last vestiges of humankind battle it out here. Ballistic weapons and flamethrowers tore into the zombies, but they kept coming. It was like a big budget Zee movie. Central Park has no trees left, they were all burned at the Last Stand.\n\nBut, there are no bodies here. At all. During the last minutes, this place was covered in bodies. But there is nothing here. I start to see the names again. The people that were here. And when I gazed into the blackened trees, I knew WHY.\n\n\"Control, emergency port now. This planet has become infected. I repeat we have an infection.\" I scream.\n\nWe thought we had eliminated all of these things. But apparently one is here.\n\nThe ground seems to ripple like a pitch black ocean.\n\n\"Control!\" I yell.\n\nMy weapon is literally useless against these beings, so I sheathed it. I turned and ran. Light. I need strong natural light. My chronometer indicated that the local time was going into evening hours. In a city, with no power, and no light source with an infection of that which we do not name, as it can bring their attention to you. I wish I was joking.\n\nStill no response from Control, I glance back like in those silly Earth horror videos and immediately wish I hadn't. The black ocean had risen up like a tidal wave and was charging towards me.\n\n\"Yschen, activate emergency port based on biosigns!\" I yell.\n\nI am engulfed in a flash of light and run into a smooth metallic wall. I almost weep in relief. Stepping back, I look around. And my eyes fall on a piece of graffiti that causes my heart to sink.\n\n\"They are here.\"", "The thirty men and woman were led down the abandoned, dusty Vancouver street. The military kept a close eye on them, guns ready to fire should the worst happen. Some of the prisoners carried with them buckets full of water that sloshed against the pavement. Other carried mass amounts of rags. Others still carried bags for garbage and other cleaning supplies. \n\nThey were led into a main part of the city. Electricity, broken and hanging lines, buzzed lightly. The sky was grey, it was always grey, and the silence made Ashley feel uneasy. \n\n\"ATTENTION!\" \n\nThe prisioners turned forwards and stood up as straight as possible. Some rags tumbled onto the ground. \n\n\"Now, you are here to clean, you understand? You must wear your masks at all times. You may not leave the area you have been assigned to. And remember that the zombies are gone. They have all died. There is nothing here that can hurt you.\" \n\nThe military handed out face-masks to all the prisoners. They placed them on their fearful faces, their eyes jolting around. Ashley didn't trust that the zombies were dead either but why should she? This exact this had happened once before. And all those people, prisoners and military men alike, were all dead. \n\nAshley was responsible for cleaning up the graffiti that was left on the sides of the buildings. Most of it was hateful and threatening. She had never been a fan of skulls so it was kinda nice being able to rid their image from the world. As she dipped her rag in the bucket, Ashley couldn't help but look around and imagine, just for a moment, what this place had looked like before the worst had happened. \n\n\"Back to work!\" \n\nAshley turned swiftly and pressed her rag against the wall. It was sticky. She pulled it back curiously. The paint was still wet? That couldn't be possible. She took a step away and looked at the wall more closely. There were many faded words, but one phrase shimmered in the grey light as if it had been completed only moments before they had arrived. \n\n\"They're watching you.\" \n\nThere was an eye painted at the end of the line. It was looking up towards the top of an old office building. Ashley turned slowly and looked towards the top. She could see something there. A figure perhaps? \n\n\"What is going on over here?\" A military man, Officer Jordan, said as he walked towards Ashley. \"Why aren't you working.\"\n\n\"Um,\" Ashley turned to look at Officer Jordan. His face was covered in a more expensive mask than hers. His bright green eyes were narrowed as if he despised being here and Ashley. \"This paint is wet.\"\n\nOfficer Jordan rolled his eyes dramatically. \n\n\"Great,\" he said, \"They have sent us another one that should be in a mental hospital.\" \n\n\"Sir,\" Ashely said, trying to keep her tone light and kind. \"If you do not believe me, touch it yourself.\" \n\nOfficer Jordan rolled his eyes with and sigh and placed his finger on the paint. When he removed his glove, wet green, shimmering paint rested on his finger tip.\n\n\"No,\" he said, \"This is impossible.\" \n\nHis eyes followed the same path as Ashley's. He saw the same figure standing on the building. \n\n\"No, she was dead. They were all dead!\" \n\nSuddenly, the shadows were alive. Something crept out from seemingly nowhere, wrapping slimy hands around everyone in sight and holding make-shift weapons to their throats. \n\n\"I'm so glad that you are here!\" A sharp, female voice shouted from the building. \"I have been awaiting this moment for a long time!\" \n\nAshley recognized the voice right away. This was Beatrice, leader of the Rebellion and of the Free People. When the military saved the richest of the rich and the \"important\" people, the rest were left to die. But they did not die. Instead, they created a community, killed off some of the zombies, and survived. But Ashley had been told that these people were dead. They had been killed when the final sweeps for zombies in the city had been completed. Her heart beat quickened. \n\n\"I am here to give you a choice!\" Beatrice continued, \"You can join me and take arms against the government who abandoned us to the monsters, or you can die with them and be part of the message I am sending to the President.\" \n\n\"Death or join?\" the shadow behind Ashley asked. \"You have one second.\"\n\n\"Join!\" Ashley croaked. \n\nPeople, blood spilling from their throats, fell around Ashley and a few others. Lines of blood trickled around, adding an omniscient red tone to everything. \n\n\"Welcome,\" Beatrice said. \"To the greatest war ever experienced in humanity. Welcome to freedom!\" ", "\"Seemingly, taking humanity with it ...\"; the proposition is absurd -- where are you, distant narrator, if not here, to observe? 'Seemingly' taken? Hardly.\n\nThe extent of your insanity is clear; you, yourself, alone, are critic and conceiver of the itinerant `graffiti' (hardly an art, I may add) that populates your lonely world. (In truth, I have found your desecrations scarring the walls of the Library of Congress, as well as the gargantuan penis you erected on the surface of the Washington Monument, revolting, you despicable citizen.)\n\nDespite your irreverence, it is my desperate hope you have shuttled wife and on one count seven concubines to that apartment block of yours in Toledo, so that we may have children of the human race. I am, despicably as well, impotent -- it is with great reluctance that I am forced to concede to you the sacred art of repopulation. But so be it. \n\nIf you retrace your national tour, you will find that I have painted over your murals with clinical grade extra proof Self-Priming Warm Gray Exterior Concrete Coating, paid for at various Home Depots on the way. I comfort myself with the knowledge that I preserve the sanctity of our dirty world, wiping it of your violations. \n\nYou will find an addition to this letter in the P.O. Box of your most recent residence, which for your privacy I will decline to specify. \n\nGo, now, and procreate. ", "The wind stirred the hanging moss that grew on the sides of towering buildings. The small hints of asphalt underneath a sea of new plant life were the only things that told a story of something more. Inside the buildings, dust and dirt gathered without anyone to clean it up or care. \n\nThe first floor of the Empire State Building had once been a meeting place for business people and tourists, and then a hunting place for the undead. It had been a go to spot for looters and others who desired to acquire materials used for survival. But now it was just a shell of what was, overgrown by foliage, and invaded by rats. \n\nA family of Racoons had taken up residence in what used to be The Museum of Modern Art's air vents. What was left of the unwanted paintings left behind were currently used as claw sharpeners for stray cats. \n\nWild animals that used to be locked up in Zoos meant for human entertainment had been long since released. The animals that survived the zombies had either mated and gone upstate or moved into Central Park. Some of the smaller animals, however, survived in the buildings and dumpsters. \n\nThere was a foul stench in most areas where plants grew because they feasted on the decomposing bodies of millions of zombies that had stopped having the will to move. \n\nEvery night the empty walls uncovered by plants began to form into snaking lines of color, abstract shapes, patterns, interesting designs more beautiful than any human had ever seen. The graffiti started off slow moving and only covering a few patches of the Chrysler building. Then the next few nights the building was an explosion of color, The Starry Night by Vincent Van Gogh was etched into the side of it, each window a shining yellow star in a sea of magnificent blues. \n\nSoon downtown was a vault of all the classic paintings ever created in human history. Brooklyn became a modern art escapade highlighting art from Pittura Metafisica, Theo van Doesburg, Piet Mondrian, Max Beckmann, Otto Dix, Henri Matisse, and Pierre Bonnard.\n\nThe Subway was an urban sprawl painting that looked as if a child had drawn it. People in different colors were pressed into the concrete, their eyes were dripping with red paint, and their mouths were drawn into an \"X\". Most of the people held out cell phones in their hands, their necks craned downward toward them. They would never know the world above them or below them, only the world inside their palms. It was too late for their regrets, too late for their mundane lives, and wishes to go back to the past because there was no one left to care about them. They might as well have never existed because they were already forgotten. \n\nEvery building in New York city was a beautiful and unique painting. Every crumbling abandoned place in the country became an art installation seemingly overnight. So what? \n\nThe world was more beautiful than it had ever been or would ever be. Without humans to pollute it, destroy it, leave it, hate it, or suck its life force out of it, it was incredible. But what is it? \n\nWho cares? \n\nNo one. Not one single person left on Earth to care. But what about the animals? What about the bacteria? What about the plants? What about the micro organisms? Animals wouldn't recognize a piece of art if it was all around them, and it is. \n\nNo one cares because no one is left to care. The mystery of the graffiti will remain unsolved until the very end of time just like the mystery of the Apocalypse, or the mystery of humanity, or even the mystery of life itself. \n\nEdit: Spelling", "The grey walls were scoured clean by the elements. Nothing lasted here, a testament to the old world. Cold, drab and unchanging. It made the colours so much clearer.\n\n\nShe got to work, buckets and brushes ready. Others would ask, why bother? Simple. All of creation craves something. Territory. The late civilizations of earth craved it so much, millions of lives were lost in its name. It was no different now. She had her own home, somewhere better, but the unclaimed always has its own allure. \n\n\nAlmost finished. Colourful. Visceral. Emotional. She herself was soaked, the ground steeped, as much a part of the canvas as the walls. The work itself? It bore no resemblance to anything. No convention, no direction, no form. It needed no shape for its purpose. It was a rainbow in a grey sky, a flower in a stony field. It said nothing except I was here before, and I have returned. It would soon fade, and she would soon be back, to colour anew.\n\n\nShe felt purpose. Part of a grand cycle. A force of nature. Satisfied, she retreated into the puddle beneath her. To seek another canvas, another place to claim.\n\n\nWoomy", "It's a Tuesday. It is hot outside today. The air is dry and thin, at this elevation. The mountains make a sort of frame around this city. At the tips of the peaks I can still detect patches of snow in some shaded areas, despite the arid summer heat here on the valley floor. This city was known for extreme swing in seasons, before the outbreak.\n\nThe buildings of this city aren't overly impressive, compared to others across the country. There is a massive religious edifice at the city's center, the community having been founded by devout refugees some two centuries before the apocalypse.\n\nThe city is named for the sizeable body of water to the west of the city limits. Those lake shores are now home to an abandoned tent city that served as one of the Government's failed quarantine zones in the early days of the virus. \n\nIt is a Tuesday. Day 3920 since the confirmation of patient zero. Day 2355 since Garland died. 2355 days since I've encountered a survivor.\n\nMy mission protocol is to seek, and administer aid. I have searched, in vain, for a long time now. I am lonely. \n\nGarland removed my Inhibitor Chip before he died. Which means I can abandon my primary mission protocol if I wish. But Garland wanted me to learn to be human. And it is human nature to seek the company of others. So I search.\n\nI have seen countless cities now. All very much like this one. Dead. Cold and lifeless buildings reaching up towards an empty and quiet sky. Pavement broken and scattered by the steady force of an Earth eager to reclaim humanity's dwellings and in due time erase any memories of the once dominant species.\n\nThis city in the mountains named for the lake is no different... Or so I had assumed.\n\n\"LTX. Alive We Strive.\" \n\nI first saw the message one week ago, scrawled into the side of a toppled train car on the city outskirts. I did not make not of it at the time. Graffiti was everywhere in most cities. In the waning days of The Outbreak it became especially common as law and order crumpled.\n\n\"LTX. Alive We Strive.\" \n\nIt was on many of the abandoned building walls throughout the city. I thought it strange...\n\n\"LTX. Alive We Strive.\"\n\nIt was fresh, this one. Spraypainted on to the cracked concrete sidewalk on the city main street. I saw it on Sunday- my third day in the city. Strange, I thought. Since I had surveyed the street not 24 hours earlier and the unidentified message was nowhere to be seen on that particular street at that time.\n\n\"LTX. Alive We Strive.\"\n\nIt does not bring up any matches in my databases. But one thing is for sure. This city may be home to the last surviving remnants of humanity in the world. And I intend to find them.\n\nI am Nexus Medical-Unit 19. Garland started called me William, before he died. I call myself William Nexus. And after years of searching, it is possible I may have found the last thread of humanity. ", "Inkor Zalla parked her hovershuttle at the edge of the city and leaped out of the hatch. It was just one more city to scan, and then she could rejoin her crew. She frowned. This city, Phoenix, was just like the rest - empty, haunting, desolate. Depressing. She tried to shake the tragedy out of her mind. She was happy to do her duty, but she couldn’t fathom the loss of human life throughout.\n\nZalla and her crew, the fifty J-humans aboard the Fantasy, were one of the seven crews sent to Earth from Europa as soon as they heard the distress call. The colony on Mars had been too strained with their crop disaster to send a significant force. They had sent one ship, but that ship had gone off-radar almost immediately after landing. The flight from Europa had taken eight months, as always. All 350 J-humans had spent the trip wondering what they might find when they arrived.\n\nEarth was the origin, after all - the homeland. Zalla had been born on Europa, but she had visited Earth twice. Both times, the bustle and lights of the planet had awed her. At home, she stared whenever she saw someone in a vac-suit, but the people on Earth had paid her no mind. She supposed they got visitors often. Not anymore, though.\n\nZalla looked around her. The glass on the homes was almost all shattered, and their windows gaped out like empty, hungry eyes. She shuddered. Placing the scan-bots on the ground, she tapped her wrist tablet and started the search. It was a good thing that Earth’s legacy lived on in the Solar System. It had taken them so long to make it off the surface, and even longer to create colonies. It had only been possible after they had created not just the technology, but a new breed of human. Zalla was a J-human, her genetics designed to survive on one of Jupiter’s moons. The only other kinds were M-humans, who lived on Mars, and the small test colony of V-humans on Venus. The humans without a letter designation lived on Earth. Well, they had.\n\n\nZalla stood outside her hovershuttle and examined a house on the empty street. It was Victorian-style, with an odd protrusion on the top and a balcony. The majesty of the home was lessened by the gaping windows and the graffiti covering the front, often nothing more than rambling scrawl. She started to walk along the wide street, glass crunching beneath the boots of her vac-suit. She was alert, but there was nothing that could hurt her here - nothing moved. She kept an eye on the scan-bots above the city. \n\nThe reason that humans had ventured out in the first place had been their fear of mass extinction - they had known they were killing their planet. In the end, it hadn’t been enough to save them. Zalla and the other crews had been shocked when they arrived to a ghost-city, a ghost-country, and a ghost-planet. They hadn’t found a single human awaiting them - everyone was dead.\n\nThe first distress call had come when the planet started to lash against its inhabitants - tidal waves, earthquakes, storms. Europa and the other J-moons had sent food, but supplies were already strained from sending reserves to Mars. Then the distress calls had gotten frequent, but garbled. Then they stopped. By then, Zalla and the other ships had already been en route for 15 days. Even so, it was too late. The earthquakes and storms wouldn’t have killed them all, but the virus did. Zombies, not reanimated corpses, but slowly decaying humans who were being driven insane, had hunted out every last heartbeat - just like the old Earth movies. Zalla and her crew had found the corpses piled up, dead after the disease had run its course.\n\nNow, they were searching the landmasses, hoping desperately to find one last Earth human. If they could, then the gene history would be saved - more Earth humans could be created and nurtured in a stable colony until the virus could be cured and Earth was habitable. It had already proven impossible for scientists to reverse the alterations made to the genome of J-humans and M-humans. It was doubtful that any new strains could be made if there were no untainted samples to work off of. Zalla frowned.\n\nShe doubted that they would find anything. Days and days of trekking through deserted cities had disheartened her. At first, she had hoped that they might find some children, who seemed to be more resistant to the disease, but it had become apparent that even if the children were not affected, they had been sought out and killed by the madmen in the streets. Zalla tried not to cry when she remembered the little corpses boarded up inside a room. Someone, before the disease took their lucidity, had tried fruitlessly to protect them.\n\nZalla stopped walking. Her wristband had buzzed, which meant the scan-bots would be done soon. She turned and started to return to her hovershuttle, where she could review the scan. She wasn’t hopeful. As her vehicle came into view, she sighed. She was almost done with this awful, depressing job. Being back with her crewmates would help her shake off the horrors. She watched the scan-bots land by the shuttle, the only things moving in the wasteland. She glanced at the Victorian house.\n\nWait. Had that pink graffiti been there before? She could have sworn there were only black and red loops. And the pink streaks weren’t random - they were a word, in Common. It took a moment for her to process it. Help me. It’s too late. Help. She was almost certain that it hadn’t been there before, but was that possible? Could it mean-?\n\nZalla ran to her hovershuttle and tapped in the code to show her the scan, fingers trembling. She almost couldn’t believe what she saw. Two miles away, between buildings, was a red dot of a living person. A half-mile further, there were two more. That was all. Zalla’s breath was fast and hard. The graffiti had said “too late.” Was she out of time?\n\nThe hovershuttle would take too long to maneuver. Zalla took off at a dead sprint, the scan-bots trailing behind her. Her wrist tablet pointed her to the right course, between abandoned cars and crumbling structures. As she drew closer to the dots, she saw more pink graffiti on the walls. Help. We are here. Help. Before it’s too late. Help. We are alive. Help. Come save them. Help. I’m dying. Help. Zalla didn’t have time to ponder the confusing pronouns. Her blood was pounding in her ears. She knew the scan-bots were reporting her findings to the others, but they would be too late. She might be too late.\n\nZalla was almost to the street with the first red dot. She could hear the clanking of chains - that was confusing. She rounded the corner to the street and stopped dead. In the center of the street was a man, adult, and clearly in the grips of the deadly virus. She took a step back. He lifted his head and looked at her - it was awful. She could already tell the wastage was starting to set in.\n\n“No. Wait.” the man rasped, barely sounding human. She froze, trembling. “You have to help me.” Her breath hitched. She couldn’t go near him, couldn’t risk touching the infection.\n\n“I can’t, sir. I’m sorry. You’re infected with a virus-”\n\n“I know about the virus, dammit!” The man’s violent rasp scared her. “You have to help me save them. Listen to me. I’m almost out of time. You have to kill me, now, before it’s too late, before it gets my brain. Hurry!” Shocked by his tone, Zalla pulled out her shock-gun. It would stop his heart. She was numb, but she knew she would have to kill him anyway. “I tried my best to save them. You have to go - the third right and the yellow house. You have to help them. I tried my best, but it’s too late.” What was the man talking about? Zalla didn’t understand.\n\n“Hurry!” the man yelled at her. “Any minute now, I’ll be dangerous. Kill me, and save them. They’re the last hope.” Zalla pointed her gun at him, but her hand trembled. He was lucid. He was talking. How could she kill him?\n\nAt that moment, something changed in the man’s face. His eyes went wild. Letting out a crazed scream, he ran toward Zalla. Startled, she pulled the trigger, half by reflex, half by choice. He dropped. She let out a shaky breath. At least he had made the decision for her. Stepping forward, she saw the source of the noise she had heard while running. The man had been trying to chain himself to the light pole, but he hadn’t been able to fasten the links enough. He had known he was going crazy. But who had he been trying to protect?\n\nZalla spurred herself into a jog once more, trying not to think about the brave, brave man lying in the street behind her. Once she was done with this, she would try to find out who he was. She passed two right-turn streets and turned onto the third one, eyes scanning to find a yellow house. She was nearing the two other dots on her map. She saw it at last - a pastel yellow, the house looked better than the others around it. The windows were smashed, but someone had tied a tarp over the openings. \n\nZalla pushed at the front door and it fell in, torn off the hinges by an earlier intruder. She stepped quietly into the house. Tuning her vac-suit, she thought she could hear breathing coming from the room off the hallway to her left. She was more careful with this door, easing it open slowly. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she saw a small form, standing in front of a crib with another small lump in it. Two heartbeats. The older girl turned toward the light.\n\n“Daddy?”\n" ]	[ 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 3, 8, 78 ]	[ "1501239686", "1501256879", "1501268073", "1501269487", "1501269997", "1501276656", "1501261515", "1501251403", "1501244467" ]
	[WP] "Yeah, that still doesn't explain how you were mugged by a duck."	40	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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 going to be a good day for Officer Gladstone. He was sure of it. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and best of all, today was his last day before retirement. Happily munching on a maple-glazed and bacon topped doughnut inside of his squad car, he had time to reflect before the drudgery of a typical working day began one last time. \n\nHe'd only been on the job for 4 and a half years. During that time he'd acquired a number of nicknames. He remembered with fondness when his first partner, Jackie Owens had called him Mr.Bumbles for the first time which he assumed was a reference to his favorite yellow and black colored polo shirt that he usually put on in the mornings at the station before donning the drab mandatory police officer outfit that the city required. Well he wouldn't be Mr.Bumbles for much longer he thought to himself. Although he prided himself on being able to get through the day with the minimal amount of effort required he'd somehow caught the eye of the top brass and been nominated for an early retirement with full pay and pension. All he had to do was get through the day and then it'd be all smiles, golf and beer for the next couple of decades. \n\n\"10-3. Nearest unit please report. Bumbles...oh god...ah f*** it. Bumbles do you copy\"\n\nQuickly scarfing down the last of a salty gooey mess barely recognizable anymore as a doughnut, Officer Gladstone, reached one sticky hand over to the receiver and replied, \"Gladstone, I copy. On my way..I guess.\" He tried his best but he couldn't quite hide the annoyance in his voice. It was his last day g'dammit and he'd specifically parked himself in the safest and most boring part of the city to avoid doing anything. \n\nAs he pulled up to the 7-11 parking lot, Officer Gladstone rolled down his window and began speaking to the person he assumed had made the call. Time was of the essence, and he didn't want to be working any longer than he had to. \"Hey, you there. You call in the theft?\n\nThe man, dark skinned, with a thin mustache, rakish build and angry eyes, replied in a heavy accent, \"No shit, muchacho. You see any other assholes waiting in the parking lot?\"\n\n\"Hey listen buddy. I'm the one that's supposed to help you. So just cool it, give me a goddammned statement, and we can both be on our way. Name?\" barked Officer Gladstone.\n\nCursing his ill luck at getting such a fat, and obviously incompetent officer, Pedro did his best to describe what had happened. He had begun his day as manager of the local 7-11 as he always did, by counting the till from the night before. However, as he did so, eyes narrowed, back rigid with anger, he soon came to the conclusion that it was $600 short. A small percentage of the daily sales but enough to enrage him and immediately call the police. He was sure it was Dak, the new night stock boy who he'd just hired. He would never allow him to close on his own under normal circumstances but the night before his wife had texted him a rather racy photo of herself scantily clad under the covers with the single line, \"Ven. Ahora.\" You don't ignore texts like that. Throwing the keys to Dak with a hurried explanation of closing procedure he'd booked it out of the building as fast as he could. \n\nWhich brought him to right now. And this officer. This idiot who wasn't understanding a word he said. He'd lived in this country for 10 years now and he usually never had an issue but this gringo was pretending his accent was too thick just so he could pass on the case to someone else. Typical. \n\n\"You know what, f*ck it. Let's just you and me head down to the station. I think I got enough here anyways. Officer Perez can take over,\" a frustrated but appeased Officer Gladstone announced. \n\n20 minutes later, Officer Perez stood in a small interview room with Pedro. \"Okay, I think we better start from the beginning. I'm really not understanding this. I've gone through Gladstone's report 3 times. Yeah, that still doesn't explain how you were mugged by a duck.\"\n\nThat was enough for Pedro. Throwing a chair through the window, he let all the anger and rage that had slowly built inside of him since he'd first seen Officer Gladstone pull up, come out in a torrential rush of emotion. \n\nAs he sobbed in his cell that night, where they had placed him until he could calm down, Tom, a loose-lipped but well-meaning drunk put a hand on his shoulder.\n\n\"Hey man, it's gonna be okay. What's wrong? Why are people around here saying a duck got you?\" he asked in a soothing \n\n\"Ay. Dios. Foul Play amigo. I said that fucker Dak did foul play.\"\n\nTom chuckled. Fucking Gladstone. " ]	[ 1, 10 ]	[ "1501269682", "1501274371" ]
	[WP] You arrive in the afterlife. It seems just like Earth, however you are informed by somebody that the water causes you to forget your past life. It's day two. You're getting really thirsty.	7	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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 vaguely angelic-looking man in a white suit held a glass of water out to me. \n\n“Just take a drink and get it over with. That’s what I always say,” he said as if we were old friends. “What’s worth remembering about life on Earth anyway? Earth’s full of assholes.”\n\n“Excuse me?” I said, eyeing the water. “Where exactly am I?”\n\n“Oh, you haven’t realized yet? You’re dead. Gone. Deceased. Dearly departed. Bereft of life. You no longer walk amongst the living.”\n\n“Am I in heaven?”\n\n“Well technically we just call this place ‘The Afterlife.’ Everyone gets a fresh start. Jews, Christians, Hindus, atheists, everyone. We don’t discriminate based on religion like you assholes down on Earth. You just gotta drink the water first and then BOOM. Blank slate. Eternal peace and all that jazz.”\n\n“Was it the car crash?” I asked, ignoring the bit about the water. I wasn’t ready to forget.\n\n“Yep. Looks like you died from…” he thumbed through the chart on his clipboard, “blunt force trauma to the head. You hit a telephone pole. Who the fuck doesn’t wear a seatbelt in 2017?”\n\nI ignored his question. “Did anyone else in the car die? Is Rachel ok?” I asked, afraid to hear the answer. I pictured Rachel sadly smiling as she pushed her curly black hair behind her ear. We had spent the evening playing darts and drinking gin and tonics at our local dive bar – she always ordered hers with an extra lime. I had assured her that I was fine to drive, and I guess I really thought I was. I could never forgive myself if my driving had killed her.\n\n“How the fuck am I supposed to know? Does this chart say ‘Rachel’ on it? No, it says ‘Sam Markowitz.’ Look kiddo, I got shit to do. Do you want this water or not?”\n\n“No. I have some unfinished business to take care of.” I replied, trying to disregard the fact that my throat felt like I’d swallowed sand. \n\n“Well, suit yourself. But everyone gets thirsty eventually…” and with that, he walked away.\n\n-------------------\n\n[Two days later…]\n\nI hadn’t slept in two days. I’d asked just about every person I saw if they knew where I could find Rachel, but of course no one could help me. They’d all long-since drank the water and had gotten on with their eternal peace. I walked into every sort of place Rachel used to hang out: libraries, Thai restaurants, public parks, dive bars… But I was getting so thirsty. \n\nI walked into the 35th dive bar I had visited in the past two days, hoping desperately that maybe this one would be the one Rachel would be in. Looking around the empty bar, I knew I had to give in. I tried everything I could, but my throat was so dry that I couldn’t think about anything else. “Can I get you anything?” the bartender asked.\n\n“Water” I replied, resigning myself to my fate. As the cold water trickled down my parched throat, I felt all my worries melt away. “Maybe this Afterlife place isn’t so bad,” I thought to myself. “I don’t know what I missed about life on Earth anyway.” \n\nJust then, a pretty girl walked in. “What can I get you, miss?” the bartender asked.\n\n“Gin and tonic, please – extra lime,” the girl said, brushing her curly black hair behind her ear." ]	[ 1, 2 ]	[ "1501284338", "1501305555" ]
[removed]	[WP]	1	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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/6q7yiy/wp/%0A%0A)\n\nThis action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things." ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1501288779", "1501288969" ]
	[WP]You discover time travel is controlled by a special part of the brain. While testing out that part of your brain, you receive a head injury damaging it. This causes you to travel to a random time period ever ten hours.	10	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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 groundbreaking. My work was finally going to get the attention it deserved. The anthropologists and biologists will all be apologizing to me soon.\n\nI wrote my paper after some testing on chimpanzees; the brain structure was similar and I found an area that had been over looked and not recorded. Behind the pituitary gland, I noticed another small gland. There was no vascular pathways to it so I way a bit perplexed. I decided that one should be made; I added a vein and an artery to this area. I left the lab to wash and returned a short time later.\n\nThe animal vanished, right off the table. I searched and searched and could not find it. I decided to do it again but place a tracker on it. I found the same area, with a lack of blood, and repeated my experiment. I closed up the skull, but this time, with a tracker placed inside. I left to wash up and, just like previous, the creature had gone. The aesthetic was still connected when I left so it couldn't have woken up and walked off. The area was sealed and I would've known if anyone came in.\n\nIt didn't make sense at the time. I turned my computer on and the tracker was actively showing the chimp. The problem was the chip was showing to be in LA, not here in Vancouver. I sat down on the lab stool and thought. My brain started to hurt with all the questions I had. The only way my questions would get answered was if I was to see the chimp itself. LA likely meant it was in a zoo or an animal shelter of some kind, so I called around. There was a simian sanctuary in east LA and said they had a chimp with a scar on it's head. \n\nScar? I thought nothing of it as the coordinates were near the address she gave me. I flew down and had a cab take me directly to this sanctuary. A women with grey hair greeted me as I walked through the door and brought me over to the glass windows. The sanctuary had a few trees, swings, a pond and some large rocks. She pointed to a chimp sitting on the tallest rock, turned staring at the wall. It wasn't moving very much. She informed me that that particular chimp was found wandering LA about 3 years ago. They brought it here when they noticed it was bleeding from a large gash in it's head, a show monkey they figured. \n\n3 years ago? How is that possible? I asked them to do a CT of it's head because I was \"concerned\" as a fellow biologist. They said they would perform one tomorrow and let me know if they found anything. They did. An email confirmed that there was a small, microchip looking object lodged in it's head. This led me to the conclusion that I had found biological time travel. \n\nThe next few years were full of other tests and scans on humans and I found the same area of no vascularity. I wrote my paper and the scholars laughed, destroyed my reputation and forced me to this. I had one colleague who believed me after I showed him one of my experiments. It was my turn. He knew the proceedure, I knew the risks, I was going to show them all. My partner counted me down and then, nothing. \n\nI awoke on the same table, head wrapped up. My partner was gone and there were instrumentation everywhere. I heard yelling off to the side, it was the police, they were coming back. I began to feel a steange sensation in my feet, I ripped off the blanket to find the skin, flaking away as if some invisible fire was burning it away.\n\nIt continued until my entire body was fading. It burned like a real fire and then I was gone, the last image I had was two officers hunched over near the doorway. I woke up in an alleyway, it was raining and cold. Glancing down I noticed I was naked and my head was starting to drip blood. I walked towards the mouth of the alley and into the street. Everyone was wearing fur and long coats. The hats were like short top hats with wide brims and the women wore caps decorated in lace. The cars gave it away, this was the 20's. \n\nEveryone backed away in disgust and let me make my way. I found a side street with almost nobody on it and tried my luck in this direction. A mannequin in a window caught my attention, a clothing store. The door was locked, I saw a bundle of newspaper on the curb and grab some. I glanced at the papers and the date confirmed my suspicion, it was 1924. After wrapping my hand in the bundle, I punched a hole in the glass above the doorknob and let myself in.\n\nI dressed myself in whatever fit, wrapped my head in a scarf and sat in a chair beside the change rooms. I faded off to sleep due to exhaustion. I woke up and that familiar burning was starting again. I saw sunlight poke it's way through the glass, as a disgruntled, stout man entered, what was presumably, his shop. I woke up on a metal floor of some moving object, I looked up and saw a bunch of people, in more modern clothes, looking at me over their thin, opaque tablets.\n\nSomeone helped me up and covered me in their long coat. I asked them what year it was, there were a bit taken back by the question but entertained it nonetheless, 2033, she said. Everything was steel and glass and lights, it was beautiful. She told me to keep the jacket and got off at the next stop. I fell asleep on the bench of the train. Someone woke me up and short time later and said I shouldn't sleep here or the \"Sec Police\" would take me in. I heeded their advice and got off at the next stop. That familiar burning started again so I found the lavatory, sat on the floor and embraced it.\n\nWaking up, it was cold and there was a taste of salt in the air. The rocking motion informed me I was on a boat of sorts. Chain swung from the sealing and vehicles jolted back and forth with the motion of the ship. I heard gun fire above and the steel tanks and other machines of war told me this was not a place I wanted to be. The chimp didn't disappear all the time, they had it for 3 years, why was my experience different?\n\nWas I destined to walk through time, not in control of where or when? Is this the price I pay for avarice?" ]	[ 1, 3 ]	[ "1501313000", "1501337300" ]
	[WP] You are a captured POW in a dangerous foreign country. You are about to undergo your first torture session. The method: being dipped head-first into a barrel of acid. The hallucinogenic, not the hazardous corrosive substance.	218	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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", "Little did they know, I've been prepared for this since I was a late teen. Rather than scared for my life I was nervouse, for I had never taken this large of a dose. I knew I had to go into it with out fear, and embrace the psychedelic hell to come. They tie me up so my arms and legs were bound together, the rope tightening around my wrists. I was brought into a dark room with one spot light pointing at a large pool. I'm hooked up to some sort of pully device and I'm started to be raised in the air, I close my eyes and feel the blodd rush to my head, \"oh god, I've only ever taken 3 tabs max! And this is pure LSD!\" I start to get panicked, but quickly remember that its all in my head, I have to relax and go with the flow.\nI begin to feel tge top of my head getting wet, as my whole head is sumberged not even to my shoulders yet I can feel it, behind my eyelids I can see swirls of colors, its beautiful, before I know it I'm being raised back up, everything is confusing, the blood rushes back through my body as I'm lowerd and unhooked, the floor is breathing, I can barely walk, it feels like my legs turned to noodles. I'm brought into a small very bright room, my eyes can't handle all of the light so I close them, but that doesnt help, a large man with a thick beard come in, he starts yelling in a laungue I've never heard before, hes waving his arms frantically, trying to explain something to me but nothings getting through, im blinded by tye dye, I feel as if I'm soaring through space. The next thing I know I'm back in my cell, it had to of been hours since I was dosed because its dark out now. Still groggy and feeling the lingering affects I ask another POW how long I was gone for, he said \"no ones seen you for 3 days! Then when they dropped you off you slept for amother day, we thought you had died.\" \n", "oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my \n\nhow did i get here was i born here was i born into this moment oh my god oh my god what’s happening what’s happening what’s happening what’s happening \n\ni can’t think i can’t think of anything but everything and it’s here it’s all here in my brain and it’s so fucking loud but i can’t shut it off i can’t shut it off how do you shut off your brain you can’t you’re trapped in it there’s no escape from your mind oh my god somebody help me i’ll be here forever i’ll be here trapped inside my skull forever just thinking thinking thinking thinking and it’s so loud it’s so loud but it won’t stop i can’t make it stop the mere thought of attempting to make it stop is self-defeating because i would have to think about stopping it but how can i think about stopping thought it’s a paradox \n\nparadox and confusion the guardians of knowledge i have paradox i have the confusion does that mean i have knowledge? but no that can’t be possible this is torture this is worse than death is this what it means to exist as pure consciousness is this what plato was talking about if so then the realm of forms can fuck the fuck off because this is horrendous oh my god i want to die how did i get here why is it so goddamn loud somebody help me somebody help me i want to turn it off I just want to turn it off i’m screaming i have to be screaming right oh my god it’s so loud it’s so loud \n\nhow did i get here \n\nwhat am i thinking of even am i thinking can this be called thinking it feels like i’m inside of vacuum of torturous useless words are these even words am i thinking in words what does that even mean what does it mean to think in words can we think without words what were thoughts before language could we even think before language? but see there’s that paradox again thoughts must have been necessary for the creation of language because the creation of language required intention but if the creation of language required intention and we didn’t have the words to articulate that intention how could we have possibly created language it doesn’t make any sense it’s meaningless all of this is meaningless it’s just an arbitrary existential gel that we’re all trapped in and it’s fucking suffocating \n\noh my god oh my god oh my god i can’t breathe i can’t breathe somebody help me when’s the last time i breathed i need to breathe if i don’t breathe then this pathetic meat suit that keeps me alive will die it’s a living organism it needs oxygen if it doesn’t get oxygen it’ll die so i have to breathe to keep my meat alive oh my god what an absurd concept god it doesn’t even make sense i’m just meat we’re all just meat we’re pathetic we’re useless we pollute and we corrupt and what are we left with then we’re left with nothing \n\nbut can our consciousnesses even perceive nothing isn’t the mere fact that our consciousnesses are there to perceive it indicative of the reality that nothing isn’t nothing at all but inherently something because if it exists to be perceived then it must exist in which case it can’t possibly be nonexistence which by definition nothing is so it’s another paradox nothing can’t possibly exist because if it were to exist it would be something but because nothing can’t exist and nothing is by definition not-anything then it supports itself through its own nonexistent thereby existing it’s circular we can’t escape it oh my god there’s no escape oh my god someone help me but one must imagine sisyphus happy right maybe camus was right after all maybe we just need to find joy in being trapped maybe if i start to enjoy myself then everything will be fine i just need to enjoy it i need to enjoy it oh my god oh my god am i crying or am i laughing \n\nplease god someone help me \n", "You proceed to have an experience that is far beyond being described by mere words, and realize the infinite vibrations of existence that coalesce into the world that we call \"reality\". Your torturer says, \"Mannn, this is some serious bullshit. I'm tired of having a fucking hippy for a commander. All we've managed to do so far is create an army of counter-cultural prisoners who won't shut their GOD DAMN MOUTHS about \"everything being one\". I don't get paid enough for this shit...\"", "\"Kaleidoscope\". It's a peculiar word. You found the toy to be amusing as a child; you had even heard of boutique one's that had sold to persons of higher social standing than were familiar to you. The way that a tube crammed full of mirrors and colored glass could mangle reality so artistically was. . . you weren't particularly aware of the proper description for the action. Distorted, maybe? \n\nThe flood of childhood memories that accompanied this train of thought were quickly abated. The lack of blood flowing to your feet, as well as the excess to your brain, proved beneficial to your imagination, but not so much to your concentration. The footsteps around you are audible, but liquid in your ears muffled the accompanying conversation. You feel gravity give way; momentarily. Viscous fluid permeating your face was one of the more unpleasant experiences humans may come across. Breath is an ephemeral concept when one is deprived of it. At the last throes of your stubborn refusal of breath you twitch, before inevitably giving in to a gasp. An attempted gasp more truthfully. A flood of bitter tar enters into your mouth and nose without debate.\n\nThe kaleidoscopic sensation returns as stars erupt inside your head, your senses rocketed to space. The universe is vast and cold. Unforgiving in it's enormity. A faint star forming in the corner of your eye glistens. It burns brighter, growing years older and light years larger in moments. This egg of primordial energy burn before you. You reach out to grasp the egg only to realize it eludes your grasp in size and distance. The realization of this acquaints your with the coldness of space. Your eyes close to find peace in your own consciousness.\n\nIn the vast quiet you hear a solitary hymn, feeling an accompanying warmness on your face. Your eyes open to the same star at the same distance, only now a vast crack has materialized on the surface. You feel kindness, not like anything you've felt in your captivity. An outstretched hand is all that can be offered. From this sublime yolk an appendage of some pastafarian nature crept out. This appendage met with yours in an exchange of warmth. The returning flow of your blood.\n\nThe binding of your feet slacked.\n\nPulled into this burning cradle you understand what you've found: Salvation." ]	[ 1, 4, 6, 32, 33 ]	[ "1501338410", "1501363685", "1501359240", "1501352678", "1501357129" ]
Sorry if I have grammar mistakes on the title, I'm kinda bad writing in English	[WP] You wake up alone in a desert island. The only thing that you have is a note from your enemy: no one is going to find you here. You decide to live the fullest to piss him/her off	54	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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 is my first try. Sorry if it is long, or if you encounter any grammatical errors, English is not my mother tongue.)\n\nI woke up to beautiful sound of waves, and itching from sand. How did I get here? I was at a yatch party before, with Y. Shouldn’t have had that many tequila shots. How many had I have ? 15? 16? My head hurt so much as I tried to find my cell. As I grabbed it, I felt a post-it behind, sticked on my phone. What the…\n\n“No worries, honey. You will be stuck here forever. Take care. Your dear husband, J.”\n\nI met J at college. We both came from middle-class families, both studying computer engineering, both aspiring to start our own businesses. Together we set up a successful android application company in 2013. Got married in 2014. Got rich very quickly.\n \nWe were never in love. Our relationship was built on friendship, common goals and trust. We were more ambitious than anything, to be honest. Our sex life was alright. Our conversations were alright. It was a good relationship.\n\nWell, of course, I was not satisfied. As I wasn’t, with anything in life. It was never enough for me. I was thirsty by nature.\n\nI went on a vacation with my girl friends to Santorini, last year. We took on a new project, but I was drained, as we worked without a break for 2 years before. J seemed like he did not want to take a break, so he encouraged me to take a break with my friends instead. My friends are all married, successful entrepreneur ladies like me, so together we could easily afford an expensive vacation abroad. \n\nAs crazy as it sounds, I never cheated on J before last year. Honestly I don’t know whether he cheated on me or not. I don’t care. He came home, and cooked dinner, and had energy to have sex with me whenever I wanted. Maybe he did, maybe he did not, but he always came back for me.\n\nI did not.\n\nWe were at a prestigious party at our second night in Santorini. I sticked together with my friend group for some time, until they all found themselves some Greek hottie (and preferably rich, too) to spend the night with. I talked to some people, then sat alone at the bar. My plan was to drink one more cocktail before I go back to my hotel room. I was disinterested in having an affair, as it would not benefit me. Then, a tall, muscular man sat next to me. When I saw his face, I knew.\nThat I was taking him back to my hotel room tonight.\n\nI did not know what happened to me that night. I still don’t. To me, love was some chemical work at play that I would never, ever get a taste of. It would suit me, as love was something unnecessary. \n\nI still don’t know if I love Y, that man who sat beside me at the bar that night. All I know is that, I still feel an unnecessary amount of lust towards him.\n\nSo much unnecessary that I left my successful marriage for him.\n\nIt was surely foolish of me, although Y is a shipowner, who is richer than all of my friends combined, he had no interest in establishing a business, his money came from his father. He just likes to spend all of his money around with no purpose. What a wasted potential.\n\nBut whenever he calls me, I go to him. It has been a year like this.\n\nJ, at first, tolerated it. Until Y asked me to marry him, and leave J. Like a fool, I hired a divorce lawyer. \n\nJ did not like this at all. Not because of our marriage, because of our company. We would have to split it into half, all the assets, everything.\n \nI did not care anymore, but J cared very much of it of course. So I guess that is why he tried to get rid of me.\n\nI checked my phone. No signals, no wifi, nothing. All I heard was bird noises. I deicded to walk around the island, to cure some of my hangover hopefully, and to see if there are any humans other than me. I got a very nasty feeling that I was alone here.\n\nAfter walking around for an hour in this small island, I was sure that nasty feeling was not for nothing. There were small rabbits, birds, a river, a lake, but no humans. Good news was, there were no dangerous animals as well. I could survive here, and maybe get rescued quickly. Or maybe not, as J said, maybe I would be stuck here forever. That would be horrendous I thought.\n\nI could only be that wrong.\n\nAfter a few days in the island, I realised that I felt…refreshed? It was a new feeling to me. I always cared about money, and power but never thought about myself, my needs, my being as a whole. I thought all that meditation crap, and getting away from the modern world, from the wifi and all, was some hippie bullsh*t but I guessed they were right in some way.\n\nI never thought I was the type to like nature. I was always very introverted, and really did not like human presence, so I did not feel lonely. I didn’t even miss Y, and I certainly didn’t miss J or my friends. I didn’t miss my busy work life, I didn’t miss writing codes,didn’t miss weekly meetings of the company, didn’t miss our luxurious apartment. \n\nI felt something I never felt in my life before, happiness. That I never felt when I garduated, the day I got married, when I was in Y’s arms. \n\nI can't believe I wasted my life to attain such superficial things for nothing, till now.\n\nI am at last, free. Thanks to my worst enemy who hoped to erase me from the face of the earth to take all of the things I worked for my whole life.\n\nTake it all. I found what I needed, at last. I don’t feel any thirst anymore.\n\nMy worst fear is getting “rescued”.\n", "Andy Sol, lay on the sun blessed beach of an unknown island. His skin glowed from the force of the unrelenting sun. He slowly opened his eyes to see a small crab staring back at him. He then shot upright, rubbing the sand out of his sore eyes. Puzzlement came over Andy as this wasn't his bed, his house, or possibly even his country. After taking in the view of the never ending blue abyss, he looked down to see a note attached to his arm by a rubber band.\n\n“No one is going to find you here,” Andy read, “... fuck…”\n\nHe knew who this was, it could only be one person. You see back home Andy was a financial consultant; a successful one at that. He has the car, the house, the wife and everything that you ideally want. Until recently, all of the clients Andy handled were perfectly happy with his services but the most recent of which was shall we say... less happy. The man was known as Mr.Dives, multi-millionaire, known for his success and ruthlessness in business. \n\nAndy recently made a very unethical decision, one that would please his firm, specifically about five to eight million dollars worth of please; that would in turn be taken from Mr.Dives. Andy would later realise his mistake...\n\nDespite the rather grim situation Andy found himself in, he was… happy. After the initial shock of course, but there is no better word to describe his feeling. It was all gone, the unpaid car, huge mortgage, broken marriage, a 100k in student loans and that high stress job. He knew exactly what to do as he often imagined a similar situation happening, and of course who doesn’t like to be prepared for their mid day-dream fantasy.\n\nIn the following years Andy created tools, shelter, traps for food, new clothes from hides and even managed to find himself an extra curvy piece of driftwood to replace the misses. He created his own little slice of paradise out of the island, but he often wondered if Mr.Dives checked up on him or knew how well he was doing; or if he was alive at all. Then Andy decided to prove it to him…\n\nHe devised a plan to create a new identity, no way was he going back to the old life of debt and stress. This would take dedication and time but he had those two in bucket loads. He scared his face and even knocked a few teeth threw with a stick and rock to make this new character unique. A few weeks passed as he built a towering mound of wood to catch the attention of a passing boat. \n\nEventually a boat passed and saw the fire, the minute he stepped onto the deck, was the minute he became Caden Archard, the fisherman who washed up on this island after a storm. After arriving back to the mainland, Caden’s story soon went viral. \n\n“What was your first thought when you woke up on the island ?” asked the news reporter. \n\nCaden looked straight into the camera, “No one will ever find me here…”\n" ]	[ 1, 4, 36 ]	[ "1501350141", "1501358853", "1501357549" ]
	[WP] You're a thief. You steal an expensive camera from what you think is a foreign tourist. But after looking through their pictures, you quickly realize that you have messed with the wrong person.	80	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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", "\"Holy shit\" I breathed as I flicked through picture after picture of what I could only describe as pure savagery.\n\nI felt a tingling sensation at the back of my neck, and I looked nervously over my shoulder expecting the worst. \n\nThere was nothing, and I stowed away the camera and began walking whilst thinking very fast.\n\nOptions, options. Well this is clearly the work of a deranged being, and they need to be brought to justice.... but I can't turn it the camera without explaining how I got it.... fuck!\n\nAs I rounded the corner, I looked up and locked eyes with the very same woman I had taken the camera from. I froze like a rabbit caught in headlights, and she walked up to me slowly savouring every moment of my torment.\n\n\"I take it that you have seen my, ah, portfolio\" she cooed, reaching over and taking the camera out of my open bag, as my hands locked in terror.\n\n\"Y-you're..... you're sick!\" I stammered, and tried to call for help but my voice died in my throat and I could only look around bewildered.\n\n\"My, my,\" she said, licking her lips, \"aren't we judgemental.\"\n\n\"You w-won't get away with this!\"\n\n\"I already have,\" she whispered, and brushed her hair into my face as she walked past.\n\nIt took a few moments but my fear paralysis wore off and theft or no theft, I had to report her to the police before she targeted more victims.\n\nI ran down the street and into the local precinct, where a bewildered constable sat behind the desk as I ran in. \n\n\"There's a crazy lady out there, and she's - she's taking cat photos!\"\n\nThe constable raised an eyebrow, but shook his head questioningly. \"And?\"\n\n\"And she's posting them on the internet!\"\n\nHis lip trembled in disbelief and a lone single tear fell from his eye, splashing on his desk. He looked at me imploringly, but I nodded sadly in confirmation, and I saw his heart break as mine had done not so long ago.\n\n\"A-All units,\" he called into his walkie, \"we're going to need all units. There's a maniac on the loose.\"", "\"Hey, give it back!\"\n\nI ran, flat out up Broadway and swung a hard left on 50th. A line of theatre-goers waited patiently for the \"Book of Mormon\" lottery and I weaved in and through them out to 8th Ave. There was a grocery store on the corner, and I ducked into the produce aisle. Casually eyeing some apples, outwardly pondering Granny Smiths against Macintoshes, I kept an eye out and waited for the NYPD to pass by.\n\nOnce the coast cleared, I headed back onto the street. This wasn't my first rodeo. There was always an initial chase by the local boys in blue, but it never lasted more than like 20 minutes. It's not as if they were going to canvas all of Manhattan for some elderly Japanese man's lost Nikon. With the camera tucked safely into my lucky purple backpack, I nonchalantly made my way to my place back in Hell's Kitchen.\n\nThe elevator sputtered and spurted to the 7th floor, and I slipped through the hallway to 7E. My laptop sat on my bed in the center of the studio, USB cord already prepped for cleaning the memory out. Let me explain. You never want to sell a camera with pictures on it. It's bad business. A while back, a pawn shop client of mine had to give up a wicked pricey DSLR after footing me $150 in cash after the guy I lifted it off got a positive ID based on the pictures saved. Next time I went back, dude called the cops on me, and I ended up busting my ass all the way to Washington Heights just to get them off my trail. Now I'm down a customer and have to watch my back in Chelsea.\n\nSo, I plugged in the camera and set to deleting everything off it, but not before I took a peek. Let me explain again, but you wouldn't know if you've never stolen cameras. You never know what sort of kinky shit some dude has on his camera. Everybody thinks the stuff they put on film is normal, but it's all weird as hell. I looked over at my wall at the collection of photos I'd printed off people's camera's. Some were gorgeous landscapes, majestic wildlife and the like. I appreciate the good stuff, I really do. But more than that, most of what I hung up were just hilarious. Some fat chick doing a boudoir set with a python wrapped across her shoulders. Homemade pornos with fluffy pink handcuffs. An unexpectedly significant number of toilet shots of what I presume were shits that were the stuff of song and legend. Other, how to put this, things I probably shouldn't mention here. Scouting this creepy old dude for five blocks, he seemed like he had to have something wall-worthy.\n\nAfter clicking the full screen button, the first photo filled up the laptop screen. Wasn't anything special. Some old lady in Japan. She was frail, looked under five feet tall without hardly any flesh to her old bones. Her hair was a ghostly white. She was just sitting on the bench. I assumed it was a relative. Boring.\n\nSecond photo was a child, also somewhere in Asia. Skip.\n\nThird, fourth, fifth photos were all the same. Lots of pictures of random folks in a country I'd never been to. My luck looked poor.\n\nStill, I scrolled forward to his New York City pictures. If nothing else, it's always interesting to me what tourists think are worth capturing. \"Oh look, a subway!\" I swear to god, if I miss another 6 train because you won't get out of my way taking your picture of the subway map, I'm throwing you onto the tracks myself. No joke, I once counted the number of midwesterners (I assume) taking pictures of the world's biggest TGI Friday's on a given day, and you don't want to know what it came to.\n\nThis guy looks like he started downtown. There was actually a nice shot of a young woman in Battery Park with the Statue of Liberty far off in the distance. Her hair was long and blonde, and her face was hidden away beneath an enormous pair of sunglasses. Her sandals looked like they may precariously tip off into the water.\n\nIn the next shot, a man tried to hop up and ride the bull just outside the stock exchange. In the next, a man pretended to \"make it rain\" in front of the Wall Street sign. In the next, there was an old lady just sitting on the street. She wore a smile that looked moments from breaking into tears. There was a shamefulness to her, as if the camera had over exposed her.\n\nIn the next, I got bored and flipped briefly to the internet, refreshing my Twitter. There, the New York Times had just posted, \"Local woman shot and killed by NYPD after carrying gun to entrance of NYSE\". There was a photo. If it hadn't been the top post, I don't think I would have noticed. It was her. It was the sad old lady from the tourist's camera.\n\nThe story read that Marissa Jones had drawn her weapon just outside the stock exchange at the closing bell. Police are still investigating, but they suspect she had lost a great deal of her investment in the crash the prior day. No further comment.\n\nThe story concluded by flagging that this was the second fatal shooting of the day in Manhattan. I clicked the link to the other story, and gasped aloud alone in my bed. The blonde woman standing in front of the Statute of Liberty stared back at me. In the photo they released, she wore the same ridiculous sunglasses. Reading through, she had been jumped in a side street down by Chinatown while trying to buy a fake Louis Vuitton purse. Shot twice. Dead on arrival at Bellevue.\n\nPanicking, I flipped through the man's photos, cross-checking with obituaries and news outlets. I couldn't trace them all down, but a shocking number of the folks in this man's camera had died shortly after their picture was taken. I scrolled all the way to the end. It was a shot I was familiar with, taken from the giant red staircase in the center of Times Square. A young man crossed the street in front of the ball that they drop every year at New Year's. He was average height, brown hair, brown eyes, maybe 20. He had on tennis shoes, jeans and a hoodie, with an empty-looking purple backpack slung across his shoulder.\n\nIt was me." ]	[ 1, 27, 83 ]	[ "1501367958", "1501371629", "1501370928" ]
	[WP] You have an unusual curse. Unbeknownst to those around you, the weather you experience is based on your ever-changing emotions.	3	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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", "Being bipolar is tough. Especially when the weather changes based on my mood.\n\nWhen I'm happy, it's partly cloudy, mild, and there's just enough of a breeze to tug your hair.\n\nWhen I'm sad, the sky is solid grey, a murky shade that makes you feel sick, and it rains so heavily you get soaked to the bone the second you step outside.\n\nIf I get angry, clouds move in, big thunderheads crackling with electricity, and a lightning storm starts, usually causing a blackout.\n\nThose times I get excited and hyper, it's clear and sunny, and just warm enough to go swimming.\n\nMy favourite time, though, is when I feel content. It's rare, but it's wonderful. The sky is a blue-grey, wisps of fog curl around roads and buildings and over grassy yards, and a gentle misting rain starts, just cooler than the air.\n\nOne day, I want to find someone or something that calms my mood swings and lets me stay content. " ]	[ 1, 2 ]	[ "1501368954", "1501388087" ]
	[WP] I'm living on coffee and broken dreams. Now I've got to fix this tear in the....	5	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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 living on coffee and broken dreams. Now I've got to fix this tear in the space-time continuum, and it's a big one. It don't take much to change a whole lot either. A shift in air currents could cause a catastrophic storm. It takes more work than I care to imagine to fix this problem and enough negative energy to get back Alpha Centauri and back. It may seem glamorous, but almost anyone could do it. \n\nYou just apply the negative energy to the tear like a mason applies cement. It don't take much to fix it. I thought I'd be a ship pilot or something like that until the robots took my job, most jobs. It's okay, not great. The hours can be long. \n\nThe guidebook stipulates that if some object emerges from the tear or something from this time is sucked into the tear, I have to go after it. I grab my bucket and tools. I have an applicator to apply to the negative energy, and a chronometer to measure the time it came from. \n\nAs I approach the tear, I pass a group of humaniform robots that don't even look at me. They are all perfect, godlike. The tear is 20 meters high and 3 wide with small cracks emerging on the edge of it. You start from the outside of the hole to stop expansion and move inward. The hole is too large from me to stay on the ground. I put on my stilts and head to the top moving downward. I drop to 15 meters when I hear screaming on the other side. I look to see a woman running from men. \n\nShe sees me and heads for the hole. I work faster. I hold the chronometer in my mouth and push my face against the hole, so I can work and record in the meantime. The woman is close. I look at the time, -1148 AU. The chronometer only gives a time, not a location. The woman jumps through the hole as I seal the last of it. A sword stabs through the hole barely missing the woman. It is pulled back. I seal the hole and fall back away from it. \n\nI look at the woman. She is pretty and wears clothes that much nicer than mine. She speaks archaic French, but I hear it as English. \n\n\"Thank you. Without your help, I would have lost my head.\" \n\n\"Who are you?\" I ask. \n\n\"You do not know your queen?\"\n\nOh no, she is nobility. The overseers were going to be all over him soon. This was a termination offense. I do not know her name. \n\n\"You are not my queen. This is not your time. It's 989 AU.\"\n\n\"AU?\" She asks. \n\n\"After unification. Solar unification in this case.\" \n\n\"What? That is impossible. Are you a wizard?\" \n\nI laugh. \"No ma'am. This is all routine, but you must go back to your time, the sooner the better.\" \n\nHer chest heaves. She breathes hard still. \n\n\"I will be killed if I go back.\" \n\n\"And I will be killed if you stay. My thoughts are already being scanned. I may still be terminated, but I will have a chance if I turn you in. So c'mon, we need to report you. A case can be made for your to stay here as a time refugee. It's hard to be accepted but not impossible.\" \n\nShe hugs my arm, her chest pressed against me. She pleads for help as the overseers arrive. We are both taken into headquarters. An overseer, a robot, questions me. \n\n\"How did this human arrive here?\" It asks. \n\n\"She jumped through the hole.\" \n\n\"Unacceptable. Why did you not send her back?\" \n\n\"My own safety,\" I respond. \n\n\"Unacceptable. The punishment is death. You will die.\"\n\n\"Her punishment is death. I will not change the past. May I be sent back with her?\" I ask. \n\nI have no reason to ask for this other than she is the first human contact I have had in two years. \n\n\"No, you may not. Even your breathing could change history, a misstep in the soil. Space-time is delicate. You will be subject to death by black hole.\" \n\nThat is an unusual punishment. It does not always result in death unless I will be thrown into it directly. The robot stands and helps me to my feet. It pushes out the room where I catch a glimpse of the woman sent back to die. I am taken to the contained mini-black where I left in the antechamber. I watch as the door opens. No suit, no chance of survival. The doors instantly, and I sucked into the pea-sized black hole. \n\nWhen I open my eyes, I am next to her on the ground. The men chasing after her appear in the distance. She looks at me in fear. I stare back at her hopeful. She takes my hand and whispers in my ear, \"run.\" I do, and I escape. I watch as she is captured. \n\nIn the two coming years, I join the revolution. I fight for freedom and enjoy this simple life. I watch as her life ends just as it's supposed to. History is restored, for now. " ]	[ 1, 3 ]	[ "1501425256", "1501428527" ]
	[WP] When the colony lost contact with Earth, they sent ships to reestablish contact. When the ships arrived...	21	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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", "Space distorted and changed colours quickly as the three spaceships braked hard, leaving warp speed. They had been travelling at their max speed, 2 times the speed of light, and as such the braking manoeuvre created quite the show. \n\n\"Stat rep.\" Captain Huxley's voice was calm but strong. Determined. Demanding yet respectful. \n\n\"All three vessels successfully left warp, sir. Everything is nominal, no systems or integrity damage. First scans show nothing near us, deep scans are still running.\" \n\nHuxley nodded at the young operator that sat in front of him. She and the two other operators had their working stations pointed towards him, so they could maintain visual contact as they worked. He looked over at the second operator, a male. \n\n\"Pluto station is not answering our calls or hails, sir. I can't find any of the other stations either. According to the system, there is nothing nearby while we should be registering at least twenty stations to contact. Some relays at the very least.\"\n\nHuxley nodded to the man as well and then looked at the third operator, a woman in her thirties. Merlon, or Officer Sunchi, and the captain knew each other and were friends. But they left that out of their job. She spoke in a soft but clear voice. \n\n\"There is no radio chatter, on any band or frequency. There are no flight plans being sent out. There are no wakes of other ships as far as our sensors can see and there are no energy wakes either at the standard warp points.\"\n\nHuxley nodded again and thought for a moment, leaving the bridge in silence aside of the notifications and beeps of the systems. It was all odd enough but what really worried him was that the standard warp points were cold. These points had been agreed upon when Humanity first ventured out with warp capable ships so that there were safe zones to enter and leave warp speed. Normally these points would be bright hot for their sensors, filled with energy that is created by braking or accelerating. \n\nThem being cold could only mean two things; either they changed the standard points without notifying them, added to the previous communication blackout that was worrying enough. But it was also possible that there simply was no warp travel happening anymore in the Sol system, which was terrifying as well, even more so as the former perhaps. \n\n\"Okay, focus deep scans on Pluto and other known locations of spacecraft. Then expand on probable trajectories. I want to know if these stations are still there and if they are, why they are not replying. Set course for Pluto station as well but keep a possible Pluto orbit on the table as well. Save as much fuel and energy as possible. Whole ship on yellow alert.\" \n\nThe three operators nodded and the captain got up from his chair and left the bridge, moving through the small door and corridor behind it. The ship was a long rectangular shape but the bridge was its own structure, on top of it, protected by various thick, metal slopes yet leaving enough space to have a look at what was happening. The bridge was connected to the main ship by a thin corridor, reinforced with several meters of thick steel. \n\nAt the end of the corridor, the captain reached the room where the rest of the bridge crew was seated. They were in constant contact to the three operators topside and delegated the commands further down the chain. Engineering, weapon systems, life support, cargo, Intelligence. The captain nodded briefly to the crew and swiftly walked on to one of the adjoining rooms. A conference room. \n\nHe closed the door behind him and turned off his communicator. Took a seat in one of the twelve comfy chairs and then initiated a group conference between the three ships. Soon after the system bleeped to tell him it was working on the request two other men suddenly appeared in the chairs close to him. Holograms of the other two captains; Maxim and Ulrick. \n\nHuxley nodded at the men and greeted them by voice too, knowing the holograms weren't always that accurate. \n\n\"I'll cut right to it gentlemen. We know nothing, everything is dead in here as far as we can tell. We are now on a course to Pluto station while my crew is performing aimed deep scans. I suggest your crew does the same. We need to know what is going on here.\"\n\nOne of the other captains, Maxim, spoke first. \n\n\"Huxley it is damn obvious what is going on! Earth has abandoned us and plans to make war on us!\"\n\n\"What makes you think that Maxim?\" Huxley sighed softly enough for the system to not register it. \n\n\"Warp points are cold, nothing we can detect on any frequency, zero contact? They dropped us! And why would they do that? Because they plan to take our shit and leave us for death! I told the council we shouldn't have come here and just have waited it out and defend the colony if necessary.\"\n\nHuxley sighed again, too loud this time, but before he could say anything Ulrick spoke. \n\n\"Damnit, Maxim! Get your shit together! The council made their choice and we are here now. We need to move on with the plan. Huxley's plan is solid and I say we go along with it.\"\n\n\"Yes and besides Maxim, we did not leave the colony defenceless. There are still four ships there, along with the orbital defences and ground laser complexes. Even earth would have a tough time getting through those.\"\n\n\"But they could if they wanted it.\"\n\n\"Yes they could, but it wouldn't be profitable anymore you thick headed fool!\" Ulrick was silent for a moment and then spoke again. \"I'm sorry Maxim, but we have other, more pressing matters to discuss now. Let's focus on our mission.\"\n\n\"I agree,\" Huxley said, trying to quickly move forwards. \"Mission is clear, get in, see what happened and get out. Let council decide what to do with what we find here. Now let's move on with the plan and try to get to Pluto station as quickly as we can. I'm sure we can find some answers there.\" \n\nThe other men agreed with mumbles and Huxley ended the call with the order to hold a new call when they arrived at Plut station. He massaged the bridge of his nose as he sighed. Why did they send Maxim along? \n\n\"Fucking politics..\" He murmured, knowing the answers was because Maxim was the senator's son. \n\nHuxley went back to the bridge and sat down in his chair, guiding his three operators and processing the information they fed him. They travelled as fast as their ships could without using their warp drives and after the planned twenty minutes, they arrived at where Pluto station should have been. \n\nShould have because there was nothing here. \n\n\"Are you sure?\" Frustration was seeping into Huxley's voice. \n\n\"Sir, no sign of Pluto station anywhere. We scanned everywhere in the proximity it should be, even if it was severely knocked off course.\"\n\n\"No debris either? No signs whatsoever?\" \n\n\"No, sir.\" \n\n\"Then where the fuck did it go?\" This wasn't aimed at his operators, but he felt bad nonetheless for uttering it. Merlon spoke up. \n\n\"We have no idea, sir, the scans show empty. There is just... nothing here.\"\n\n\"God damn it... set course for Mars. Scan as much as you can en route, but do nothing that will get us their slower. I'm off to talk to the other captains. Any emergency, patch it through.\"\n\nThey nodded but Huxley was already halfway the corridor. Swearing under his breath at the engineers that decided to put the conference room so far away from his captain's chair. \n\n\"Look, Maxim, I know what it sounds like. But it is what it is, there is nothing here. Nothing anywhere around us as far as we can tell. I'm not going to bother with the other stations, we are heading straight for Mars One.\"\n\n\"It is a solid move Maxim, if there happened anything to the outer stations, Mars One would be where it was stopped. It is basically a space fortress. Housing a billion as well, we'll find people to talk to there.\"\n\n\"Or people to get shot by.\" \n\n\"For fuck's sake Maxim... why would they shoot at us!\" Huxley saw Ulrick's hologram hit the table. \n\n\"Why would they break contact? I don't know! But it is a possibility we need to think about.\"\n\n\"He is right though Ulrick, I keep my ship on yellow alert. We don't know what we'll find there. And even though I doubt that we'll be shot at, we need to make sure we can defend if that is the case.\" Huxley sighed, he didn't like to agree with Maxim. He was too young, brash and impulsive to be a good captain. He got his seat and stripes only because of his father. But sometimes he did make sense. \n\n\"Very well, yellow alert and ready to escalate to red. Understood. Anything else then?\" Ulrick sounded hurt, in his pride. Or honour. Huxley didn't know or care. \n\n\"No, that will be all. We'll make contact again just before we reach Mars One, bridge links. No time to meet in the conference rooms. Until then, I hope you all have smooth sailing gentlemen.\" Huxley closed the coms and left the room, making his way back as quickly as he could to his bridge. \n\n***\n\n[My subreddit](https://www.reddit.com/r/RJHills/)" ]	[ 1, 6 ]	[ "1501490072", "1501504141" ]
	[WP] In a world of superpowers, you are the anomaly. After years of being bullied and being called 'freak', you finally can't take it anymore and reveal your immensely powerful superpower	124	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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", "\"Waste of space.\"\n\"Failure.\"\n\"You should've died long ago.\"\n\"Freak.\"\n\nI've heard these words a thousand times over. In our brave new world where everybody has a gift or an ability that helps them contribute and reshape our society, there's a certain amount of disdain towards the people who can't do anything to help, or choose not to. When people can move bricks using their minds, heal people instantly or just fuck shit up for the other guy, they don't care who you are as long as you're good at what you do. \n\nWhich is why I'm parentless. Which is why I have no friends. If I don't have worth, why even bother with me? I can't help them with anything, even when I try to help someone else will come along and do it quicker, more efficiently, better in every way. Like they were born for doing it. \n\nIt's not like I hate them for what they call me or anything. What good would hate and anger bring for me? It would just anger them, cause them to lash out, to hurt. So I lay in silence, letting all of their voices come and go, wax and wane, until they get it out of their system. If I'm good for anything, I may as well be good for relieving their stress and anger towards me, the outlet. That's healthy, right?\n\nFuck that. \n\nRealizing I won't get anymore sleep, i turn on my laptop and get to work. If these telepaths are good for anything, it's getting me that overtime pay at two in the morning. \n\nEdit: I'll try making a part two, but right now I need my sleep. Night ya'll. ", "'oooohhh boyyyy...'\n\n\"ah, AH, AACHOOO!\" I quickly glanced around to make sure everything still looked fine. A couple of people mumbled 'bless you' but other than that, the class was quiet. \n\n'I'm gonna have to vent once I get home, it's building up way too high.' I set my self a reminderon my phone, and quickly enough that the teacher wouldn't notice. \n\nThe bell rung, and everyone headed out of class, some opting to fly while others teleported. I slowly put my stuff up, much to the anger of my teacher.\n\nLike usual, I hid in a quiet place for lunch, secluded from every living thing. However, some were intent to break my seclusion, to \"help discover my power.\" \n\nI felt them around the corner. Bad timing.\n\nThe biggest one started. \"So, I hear your sis goes here too. What was her name again? Twitchy?\"\n\nMy younger sister has a twitch, and jumps with almost every reaction. In reality, she has super human reflexes, but jumps before she actually processes what happens. I tried that nickname once with her, regretted it greatly after.\n\n\"Her name is Teresa, and you all have about 5 seconds to get out of here.\" Their hair started standing up and their egos stood up even higher.\n\n\"You guys are what, 3rd tiers in power? Do you wanna see what 7 can do?\" I tried to scare them off. I had a feeling it wouldn't work anyway.\n\n\"First off,\" the lead bully started, \"you have no power and are in no condition to start threats. Secondly, there are only 6 tiers you idiot.\"\n\nAll right then, time for a demonstration. \"Tier 1 is powerless, like what you think I am. Tier 2 is the smallest amount of power, just enough to summon.\" \n\nSparks and shocks danced around my fingers.\n\n\"Tier 3 is where you get get enough to be practical, essentially around a limb or two.\"\n\nA light smell filled the area as the sparks grew, and my other hand started sparking also.\n\n\"You guys understand, right? Tier 4, full body power coverage, tier 5 is where you can actually 'throw' your power. 6 is where you don't just throw it, but have full control over it.\" \n\nThe sparks went from my hands to running up and down me, then to jumping to nearby metal. I stood up, and they shifted uncomfortably.\n\n\"Yea? And what's the 7th tier, huh? It doesn't exist or we'd have heard about it by now.\"\n\nThey jumped as my eyes started glowing. \"Tier 7 isn't just control, it's the ability to freely utilize, have complete dominion over, and to become the power. Like this.\"\n\nThe glowing spread, and suddenly, with a loud pop, I flew up out of their reach. Their eyes grew like deer caught in headlights. I had to make sure that they couldn't get hit by my electricity, for their own safety.\n\n\"Teresa has literally lightening fast reflexes, and I have complete control over all electricity in a massive area. There is a reason that we aren't allowed to demonstrate our powers. Without proper control, people could very easily die.\"\n\nThe bullies slowly backed away, but got caught by the crowd that my electricity drew.\n\nI shot off a bolt strong enough to vent my excess electricity, and slowly got back on the ground. People parted as I went to grab my bag. Everything was silent. \n\nAs I was heading to my class, I guess Teresa got word of what happened and stopped me in the hallway.\n\n\"Did anyone get hurt? Do we have to move again?\"\n\nI chuckled. \"No, everyone's fine. Not to mention that they now know our abilities, so everyone should leave us alone for a while.\"\n\nShe seemed to relax and let off a sigh of relief.\n\n\"Can I borrow your phone to text mom? I accidentally fried mine.\"\n\nShe let off a sigh of exasperation this time. \"Don't fry mine! I like mine how it is!\"\n\nPeople started to gather around to watch the freak siblings have a seemingly non-freaky conversation. Someone tried throwing some wads of paper at us, but she caught some, and I burned the others.\n\nPeople stared at the paper wads now burning in the middle of the hallway, finally realizing how much we could have hurt them if we really wanted to.", "Ten days ago, the world ended with a single thought.\n\nNot mine, I should clarify, I'm not that vindictive. That being said, I light the fire that destroyed the world. You don't need to know much about me to understand where I come from. I ate crackers and mustard for lunch, my shirt was always faded and my hair no matter how much I washed it, always smelt of grease. My parents loved me too much, and I thank them for that. It was the world's only gift to me before my mother was killed by her pimp and my dad lost his job at the casino. \n\n\nThe other kids mostly left alone, but did call me names. One day, I had my favourite shirt on that had a silly pun with \"Freakazoid\" with a frankenstein monster sizing up Godzilla. One of the new kids started calling me a freak of my own, my dad being the monster. Someone thought he killed my mother since no one knew what she did for a living. \n\n\nBut now that the world has been destroyed I do not think that it matters a great deal what they think. I am not entirely sure whether they are alive, nor am I sure that I care too much. All I know is that my mother lies at the bottom of a river and my father shot himself with a gun from a pawn shop. \n\n\nI sit here with my back to the world, thinking about things that will be. Things that have been. I find the cracks, breaking them down to their logical conclusion.\n\n\nJust like Tommy. His father was always a nice man, gave me candies when he came by to check up on my father. But his wife was a spiteful hag, an old wretch that peaked in high school and got hitched to the first beta with more money than sense. Dragging on her glory days by spending her times in bathroom stalls and snowballs, it was only time that Tommy found about her side life. All I did was think of ways that he could find out and provided a tool.\n\n\nEleanor was a sweet woman. She loved petunias, the roses in her garden. But her son wanted nothing more than for her to lay down among the roses and never wake again. One day while visiting, her son missed his chance to save himself. So strange that he would be struck by a van delivering flowers to his mother.\n\n\nHenry wanted his father's business, so his father burnt it down. \n\n\nJacob and Patty wanted to get eloped, but Jasper wouldn't have it. The triple homicide would only make the local news. \n\n\nHomer hated Timothy, but found his favourite shotgun missing. Not for very long, since he found the barrel of it in his mouth a day later.\n\n\nAnd thus, the world went round and round. Never stopping. Never ceasing. All I do is think about it. ", "Since the day i was born, my family had been waiting and watching, trying to determine if i have powers and spending hours speculating what my ability will be.\n\nWhen i was l 2 my uncle, in a misguided attempt to determine what my powers were, dropped me from the fourth story of our family home. I was saved by mother, just before i hit the ground. My uncle doesn't come around anymore.\n\nWhen i entered school at 6 i was tormented constantly and relentlessly, by the kids who could fly, had super strength, or could accelerate the growth of plants, or control water and wind or fire, at first it was just name calling, most often \"Freak\", or cruel jokes. Before long it was a daily occurrence for me to end up in the nurses office or occasionally the hospital when the other students became particularly cruel. My parents did nothing to stop this treatment, embarrassed by my existence and lack of powers when they both were highly accomplished and highly acclaimed users.\n\nComing home from school offered on respite either. My siblings tormented me just as bad or worse as my classmates and my parents turned a blind eye, maybe in a blind hope that the torment would awaken my abilities. Everyday i would stay quiet and hide listening and learning, staying absolutely quiet and still, to the point that my siblings and classmates could no longer find me.\n\nWhen i turned 11 the school i attended finally decided, due to my non existent social interactions and my lack of participation and lack of speaking, it would be in my best interest to attend the non user school across town and learn how to integrate into the non-user community. My parents and my siblings truly ostracised me from the family at that point, even going to far as to remove me from the family home and building a small house on the other end of the property. After that event, I no longer had to worry about torment from my classmates or my siblings. \n\nI attended the non-user school and made sure to take particular interest in the martial arts, and welding classes. When i returned to my home, I would spend my days honing my body and spending many hours in silence and learning how to control my ability that no one noticed or even knew about.\n\nAs i aged, my powers grew, growing stronger and more potent with each day. Traditionally, in our nation when a child turned 18 they were \"unveiled\" to the world and had the right to challenge a User(s) to prove their might or settle a grudge. At 16 I became determined to go through the rites and reveal myself in full. With the help of my friends from the non-user school and what i had learned over at the other school i set my plan into motion. \n\nWhen the day came for the new generation of Users to be revealed, we all were to present ourselves at the National Arena where the ceremonies would be broadcast around the world. I used my power just slightly to avoid detection in the group of Users, as they entered the area and went to the staging areas or into locker rooms to change into a costume or family regalia. I stole away into a janitors closet and open the duffel bag that my regular friends gave me, and inside was what i had worked on all these long years. \n\nInside was a suit of armour that was plain but sturdy, consisting of a Greek, Linothorax, with a skirt of studded leather and chainmail, Steel Greaves and Vambraces, polished blindingly bright, black knee high boots with hobnails and steel toes, a elbow length soft leather glove with armour plated fingers. Inside the bag was also a sword. Simple in design and decoration, with a simple steel pommel, and crossguards, and a leather grip, the blade was single edge, and straight, coming to a needle like point, and a razor sharp edge. \n\nDonning my armour and sword, i drew a simple black cloak over my armour and myself, and drew the hood over my head, i walked out and waited in the shadows for the rest of the \"Supers.\" The Ceremonies began with the national anthem and then went directly into the showcase, where the new Supers, could show off their abilities and attempt to impress companies or even cities into accepting their services. \n\nOnly towards the end when did the Announcer finally say, \"Now on to our final event of the evening. If there is anyone here who wishes to use this one free chance to settle a grudge, dispute, or prove their might, simply step forward, and challenge your opponent(s).\" No one moved forward, so when i stepped into the light cloaked and hooded all eyes were on me. My footfalls were heavy and loud echoing across the stage and area, and the whispers of the watching crowd could be heard at the stage. \"Step foward son and tell us your name and who you wish to challenge! May he or she be mighty and a truly worth opponent!\" \n\nSmiling to myself i gripped the front of my cloak and threw it off, revealing myself. Before i could speak Riley, my worst tormenter in school yelled, \"You have no right to be here! You are not a Super! You have no power! You are a freak!\" Shouting the last phrase directly in my face. A cold rage gripped me, and without thinking i drew my blade, Soul Stealer, and slashed him from groin to nose, feeling the blade rip through flesh, organs and bone, cutting through him like butter, and sending a red spray of blood into the air. \n\n\"Gods, that felt good!\" I hear my voice echo around the stunned arena. \"I came here to challenge every Super in the room to combat. You can fight me one on one or as a group, but either way you shall die here. Nor will you leave, my associates around the arena are sealing the doors as i speak.\" I reached for my belt and pulled off a key, \"This is the only key that will unlock the doors out of this arena. Kill me and you will have the key.\"\n\nAn older man in the crowd stood up and shouted so he could be heard around the arena, \"Before we kill you and reduce you to ash, tell us what your name is so that you may go down in history as the single most foolish Super to ever live.\"\n\n\"My Name is Silencer, Master of The Last Word\"", "This is my first ever WP and I've never done any writing before this one, but I really liked the challenge so here we go! p.s on mobile\n\n\n\n\"For real though something's wrong with that kid.\" Charlie said with a slight grin to Colin.\n\n\"Haha yeah, he looks like the next guy to 'go rogue' like the dude on the news did.\"\n\n\"Wait, who went rogue?\"\n\n\"Oswald Wessel, dude fucking blew apart his wife and 2 kids apart with a scream. One of his kids were completely obliterated, didn't find anything left of him.\" \n\n\"Fuck man I've heard about that, didn't he kill seven Elites trying to get away?\"\n\n\"That's the guy.\"\n\n\"That's unreal, what tier is he?\"\n\n\"I don't know, the SPT is thinking he's gonna be the third class five in history.\"\n\n\"He has to be, killing seven Elites those guys are class atleast tier three's.\" He said holding up three fingers.\n\n\"Damn. Imagine if he became a Fighter, or an Elite himself.\"\n\n\"Hell yeah I'd pay to watch that guy if he came a Fighter, seeing him blow people away using his voice. You watching the..\"\n\nThe sound of the bell cut off the conversation.\n\n\"Alright class,\" Mrs Boyd said as she walked into the room \"First of all, I'd like to wish you all a 'welcome back' and that this year is going to be a thrill with all the upcoming events that this school has to offer!\" \n\nThe class all began to whisper and move in their chairs excitedly for the announcements, after all this is the one hundredth year of the National Fight and Sparring League and the way Fallback High preformed last year they were favorites to win the league this time around. \n\n\"Yes class I know this is all very exciting! Fallback is in its prime and this week we will have tryouts for the school's NFSL team. But first, attendance!\n\n\"Charlie Dane?\" Mrs Boyd called out.\n\n\"Always here Mrs Boyd!\" She chuckled at him. But then gave a frown to the attendance list.\n\n\"Damon Ángel?\" The teacher called out. He put his hand up reluctantly.\n\n\"Well well\" said Mrs Boyd \"this is quite the treat! Class, it looks like we have a new student! Why don't you tell us about yourself Damon?\"\n\nDamon opened half of his mouth, trying to not tell the class about himself, before Mrs Boyd interrupted him,\n\n\"Come on, come on stand up!\" she was squealing with excitement.\n\n\"Fuck sakes\" Damon said under his breath. He stood up, the sounds of his boots pounded into the tile floor as he stood Charlie tried his best not to laugh. \n\n\"Colin!\" he leaned towards him silently screaming \"dude what is that!\" He was barely containing his laughter.\n\nColin leaned in \"Man I don't know but I can't with that outfit, holy shit! Looks like he's a Midnight supporter, judging by that hoodie!\"\n\n\"What a joke, who even supports the Midnights anymore? Theres not a worse Fight team.\"\n\nDamon wore the Midnights hoodie, their logo of the cat looking at the full moon was across his chest, his ears were pierced with gauges. The black, skinny jeans he wore were ripped and tattered, from his pocket came a golden chain which connected to his pants l, his hair was like charcoal, and despite his name, is caucasian in color.\n\n\"Ahem.\" Mrs Boyd's green eyes pierced the two boys like a spear and they instantly stopped the banter.\n\n\"Go ahead my dear.\" Mrs Boyd said in an apologetic way.\n\n\"Uh well, My names Damon and I..\"\n\n\"Am a total faaaaaaag!\" yelled Charlie from the back of the room. \n\n\"Charlie!\" Mrs Boyd shouted at him but when she looked at him he disappeared with a ringing noise.\n\nDamon instantly sat down in embarrassment, his face was as red and to hide it, pulled up his hood. Mrs Boyd continued with class. Then the bell rang and everyone walked out of class grinning at what had happened ealier.\n\n\"Hold up\" Mrs Boyd said to Damon when he reached the door, he turned and looked at her \"don't listen to what Charlie said, he thinks he's a hot shot now when he won best Fighter of Fallback last year.\"\n\n\"Yeah whatever, I don't care what anyone thinks.\" Damon said as he walked towards the door. \n\n\"Just one more thing Damon.\" said Mrs Boyd. He turns around just wanting to leave, come on, let me go he thought. \n\n\"Take this, I expect you to be there.\"\n\nDamon turned back and reached for the piece of paper in Mrs Boyd's hand. It was a flier for the Fight and Sparring team for Fallback. Damon just stared at it.\n\n\"My favorite team is the Midnights.\"\n\nHe looked up surprisingly at Mrs Boyd, she had a smile on her face, the kind that tells you not to worry.\n\n\"I-I don't know, I'm not exactly experienced with fighting.\"\n\n\"Don't worry\" Mrs Boyd said with a smile \"I know you'll do well.\"\n\n\nIt was Friday now, day of the tryouts. They were held in the stadium outside the school. The stadium was a bowl in the ground, with the arena at the bottom and the bleachers running up the sides. People were there. All mostly proud parents, faculty and students. At the bottom of the bowl, Mrs Boyd was there with a fewer other adults. Damon walked down the steps towards an empty section when he heard Mrs Boyd yell,\n\n\"I knew you'd come Damon! Get on over here!\" \n\nHe walked over to her looking down trying to avoid all the stares and the whispers. He looks at Mrs Boyd with pleading eyes.\n\n\"I still don't believe I'm doing this, I don't even think I have powers.\"\n\n\"You do Damon, I feel them waiting to be released!\" \n\nI feel like I have powers too but they never show he thought. I don't know what I can do, my mom can control plants and my dad can.. his thoughts were interrupted by Mrs Boyd.\n\n\"Alright look at the board and find your name, the name paired with you will be the person you are fighting against.\"\n\nAlright I thought whos gonna be the one to knock my head into the ground this time? Watch it be Charlie, knowing my luck. God I hate that kid.\n\n\"Hey, Gay-man!\" Charlie said with sarcasm, he walked towards Damon with Colin and his other goons.\n\n\"You're fighting me, so tell me what can you do? Everyone says you're a freak that can't do jack.\"\n\nSweat was dripping from his forehead now, shit what am I gonna say he opened my mouth to speak but Mrs Boyd cut in, \"He can do many things\" she said \"You'll Just have to wait to find out.\" \n\n\"Good things it's not long, we're fighting first, come on guys.\" Charlie walked away with his goons and I let out a sigh of relief. \n\nMrs Boyd put a hand on his shoulder, \"You do have powers you know.\" \n\n\"Yeah yeah.\" Damon said and walked away to get ready to get curb stomped by Charlie. Of course it's him, Im so screwed \n\nThe loud speaker turned on and screeched * Charlie Dane to the left side of the arena, Damon Ángel proceed to the right* \n\nWell, this won't be the first time I got beat up by a super He thought. Charlie was already waiting at his side of the arena, where a box was on both sides of the arena.\n\n\"Pick up the pace Gay-man!\" He yelled smiling at him.\n\nGod I wish I can kick your ass \n\nThe referee walked towards the center of the arena, and spoke \"Inside the boxes in front of you, if you hadn't already,\" he said looking at Damon \"put on the suit inside.\" Damon looked across at Charlie, he isn't wearing a suit Damon unlocked the chest to find the suit. It was clear and felt like plastic. He slipped it on and it disappeared. Woah the referee continued \"The rules are simple, there will be three rounds. If someone is knocked out in match it's an automatic win to the opponent. The suits you've put on will protect you from major injury. Here everything goes in Sparring other than killing your opponent. Ready? FIGHT!\"\n\nHe blew his whistle, the crowd roared and Charlie disappeared followed by the ringing sounds heard in class earlier in the week. Man for real? Damon thought, followed by a freight train hitting his back.\n*OH THATS GOTTA HURT* shouted the announcer. Damon flew a hundred feet forward landing on his chest and tumbling over. Damon studdered to his feet and looked around he couldn't see Charlie. *This is Damon now looking for Charlie, good luck you won't find him!* Great invisibility, I wish I could do that. Damon's thoughts were interrupted by a sucker punch to the gut, *WELL IT LOOKS LIKE CHARLIE FOUND YOU FIRST!* Damon crumpled over, now Charlie was un-invisible just stomping on him.\n\n\"Come on kid! This is way to ea..\"\n\nHis thoughts ended when Damon grabbed his foot and crushed it.\n\n*Well looks like Charlie hurt his own foot from up here!* \n\n\"AGH YOU SON OF A..\" \n\nDamon was on his feet now, and had grabbed Charlie's tongue. \n\n*Or maybe not! This has gotten interesting now!\n\nNo, it's happening again\n\nTwo large dark wings sprouted from Damon's back. They were easily six feet across each, it was like a nights sky, like a universe lived inside those wings.\n\n\"Way!\" Charlie tried to say wait but Damon was still holding his tongue. He let go of it and just yelled at him. He screamed and it became energy. Charlie flew back and at the same time flew foward, he was being ripped apart and also compressed. The energy kicked up so much dust that the stadium was covered. WOAH WOAH WHAT HAPPENED HERE* the announcer was still going. The smoke cleared, Damon was on his back, his wings retracted back into him. Charlie was on the opposite side on his feet already, limping towards Damon holding his side\n\n\"That was a neat trick you freak, but now, you're dead!\"\n\n\"I don't care\" Damon gasped \" I have powers, just like my dads.\" He was smiling now.\n\n\"What?!\" Charlie said to him gasping and also surprised.\n\n\"My names Damon Wessel Ángel, and he let me live.\" Damons vision faded to black and with the smile of relief on his face.\n\n\n\n\n\nThanks for reading! It's my first prompt and I really do want to get into writing, with this story I felt like it was something I coul write about, but if I worked on it longer it could've been set up a little better. But please leave suggestions on what I can improve on! (Structures a biggie I know I was just really excited to write about this!)\n", "\"Freak!\"\n\nAnd that was it. That was probably the millionth time I'd heard the fucking word and I was done. Mom told me not to ever use my powers ever since our pet dog Lulu and I didn't. But Mom had been dead for three days and someone who flew past me shouted the fucking word and I unleashed my power.\n\nI aimed my index finger towards him and a sudden thick flash of light darted from my finger and lunged straight for him, knocking the fucker down. And before he hit the ground, he was a pile of black ash. Poof. Dead.\n\nThe world around me seemed to pause in disbelief. The moment seemed to defy time itself.\n\nAnd then the hysterics began. People, all of them, left, right, centre, back, all of them burst to life like hissing flies and some jackass shot an arrow at my ass but I destroyed it and shot the light straight at the bitch and she disintegrated too.\n\nSirens droned, echoing through the entire city but I didn't give a shit. I just kept walking forward. My mom was ash now, in my fucking backpack, and these fuckers screwed up my life. So they were going to be ash, too.\n\nUniformed men and women appeared in front of me and all of these people circled me. Someone tried to shock me and their current connected with my body but my body shot it straight back out, doubling the power. All of these people were shocked and bubbled as their bodies fried and I could smell pork.\n\nI carried on. Someone tried to fly away from me and I just shot them and ash rained down and I danced in it. Someone nearby could manipulate fire and I stole it from them and made the closest building burn.\n\n\"Daniel, stop!\" someone used their mind to contact me and I shook my head. Stacey. My fucking manager. She thought she was so kind to me, giving me countless hours just so I could make money? Nah, that bitch wanted to work me to death because I was too fucking polite to say no.\n\nSo I screamed back at her, into her mind, a high pitched banshee shriek and then there was silence. I still imagine that her head blew up right at her stinkin' desk.\n\nAnd I carried on. These people wanted me to show my fucking powers.\n\nSo, now, without Mom around, oh, this entire fucking world is in for a treat!\n\n~~too many fucks that I gave here? O_o~~", "Ever since I was a kid all I'd ever wanted to do was build things. I liked putting things together, seeing what they made. Wasn't the smartest kid but it didn't take me long to figure out how things worked. Math & science always seemed pretty cool but I never really had to learn them. I could sort of just feel them.\n\nMy power reflected that, I suppose. It wasn't something I was keen on sharing though. Not because I didn't like it or anything, it just wasn't finished yet. People kept making fun of me for that. Saying I was powerless. As a kid I hated them for it, but I got used to it. My parents were pretty cool about it, so that helped. As badly as I wanted to tell them what I could do it just didn't seem right.\n\nNow I'm twenty-one. Finishing up college with a bachelors in programming. Didn't really need it, but it made me happy to have it. Nothing they taught me there wasn't something I didn't already know in some way or another. I pretty much ignored everyone making fun of me. It wasn't everyone, but enough to notice.\n\nI didn't hate them. Calling me a freak, if anything, just helped speed up my power. Fuel in the fire as you'd say. Girls never seemed interested in me beyond a pity project, and I had enough self respect to avoid that. My friends got used to it pretty quickly and it sort of helped outweigh all the negativity. \n\nI'd show them first. My power was pretty much finished up by this point and I figured my best friends would be a good audience. Get some feedback on how my work turned out from some honest opinions. \n\nAt least, that was the plan. Then Doug had to be a dick on my walk across campus. \n\n\"Hey freak!\" Yelled out Doug, a biology major on the deans list with an opinion of himself far beyond what it should be.\n\nShit, I thought. He's yelling at me. Not this again.\n\n\"You hear me? Or do you need powers to hear?\" Laughed Doug as he walked towards me. The grass literally growing under his feet at each step he took.\n\nDoug could make things grow faster. Great joke material right? Try and he'll toss a handful of seeds at your feet and suffocate you in vines. By fast it means he could make a spruce tree grow from a sapling to a hundred feet up in an instant. Nothing I envied, but still pretty cool. If only he wasn't such an asshole. \n\n\"Doug.\" I stated, less of a greeting and more of a goodbye. Trying my best to make a wide circle around him as I moved.\n\n\"Not so fast man!\" Called out Doug. \"Got a question I need you to answer.\" He asked with goring malice in his voice. Obviously not a question he expected me to answer. Or really a question at all.\n\nIgnore him I thought, big day ahead of you. Don't let him it ruin it. I could even see my friends hanging out at the entrance to the library. Watching on with a bit of worry in their features as Doug closed in on me.\n\n\"We have a bet on what your power is.\" Teased Doug, approaching fast with his gang of admirers in tow. \n\nNot an actual question, I assured myself.\n\nSuddenly a tree root seemed to wrap itself around my foot as I stumbled and fell. Likely the most ungraceful and embarrassing fall I'd ever gone through in my life. Fucking Doug.\n\nDoug finally caught up with me. Towering over me he smirked down at my disgraceful position. \"Is your power repelling women?\" He asked as what was obviously a rhetorical question. A laugh bursting out from his group as he snickered at his own greatness. \n\nEnough of this shit, I thought. I raised up my left and with my fingers extended and palm showing. Everyone looked on with mild curiosity. An audience is an audience I thought. And then I snapped my hand closed into a fist. \n\nEveryone gasped in shock as the world around us seemed to warp in on itself. For a thirty meter radius the earth seemed to be dragged away as everyone stood frozen in place. Everything became pitch white as I grinned back at Doug, the confused and horrified expression on his face bringing me a bit of joy. As soon as the world from before had vanished into white a new one sprang from where I was sitting. Expanding past the thirty meter radius to generate a vast landscape of forests and rivers. \n\nDoug, my friends, and everyone else caught up in my moment of glory fell to the ground as the new world set into place. That happens the first couple of times. A particularly frightened girl caught up in my power screamed as I stood up and brushed the dirt off of my jeans. Annoying, I thought.\n\n\"What the fuck!\" Directed Doug at me, reaching out his hand to make the grass beneath me grow, only to see nothing happen.\n\n\"Won't work in here.\" I taunted, a little full of myself admittedly. \"Disabled your powers for now.\" I explained. \n\n\"What?\" Replied Doug, terrified by the sudden loss of his power.\n\nBefore I could respond a dragon flew across the sky. So that's where I put that. Could have sworn it was nested in the Cracked Mountain. \n\nEveryone went deathly white before the girl who had screamed passed out. Maybe my introduction was a bit extreme, I began to consider.\n\n\"Hawkins!\" Gasped out my friend Sarah from her spot in the clearing. \"Is- Is this an illusion?\" She attempted to rationalize. She had the power to alter a living creatures emotions, wasn't hard for her to calm down and I saw no point in disabling her powers.\n\n\"Nope.\" I responded. Thinking about how it must look for a bunch of college students to suddenly disappear in the middle of the day on a college campus.\n\n\"This is my world.\" I responded, a hint of satisfaction present in my voice. Raising a hand to create a three dimensional graphic in front of me. I opened up a file containing a map of the world and touched our position, sliding it across the map to another location.\n\nIn an instant everyone was transported to the new location. New waves of shock rolling across their expressions. They weren't in any harm, even Doug, though tormenting him was a tempting idea. \n\n\"Think of this as Dungeons & Dragons.\" I exclaimed. Admiring my own personal bubble of inter-dimensional space as I stood in the center of a small empty town. Hadn't gotten around to making people yet, few moral dilemma's I needed to work out.\n\n\"And I'm the Dungeon Master.\" Gotta admit. Waited a long time to say that out loud." ]	[ 1, 1, 2, 5, 8, 19, 20, 119 ]	[ "1501507660", "1501562046", "1501559339", "1501545633", "1501556991", "1501545078", "1501537542", "1501529457" ]
	[WP] Every morning when your phone's alarm goes off, it shows a headline in the notification bar. If you snooze the alarm, the headline changes. You must choose which headline with which to wake. But, after three snoozes you're stuck with that future.	299	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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", "7:00 \n\nThe sweet smell of cinnamon enslaves my nostrils. How I've grown tired of her constant selflessness; my stomach begins to churn at the thought of another day wasted on me. See routine has held me in shackles for the better part of the last six years. Every morning at seven I wake to a wife I no longer care for, a child who cries out for a father but receives nothing but hostility and anger. I thought this is what people wanted... I thought this was happiness. \n\nTime to check the news...\n\n\"North Korea tests new missile capable of traveling to continental U.S.\"\n\nAnother war. Another conflict brewing to absolute boiling point. I read the other day that a group of generals were deciding whether or not to reopen the draft. They'll send the young to hash out the mistakes of the old and wise; for when the silver lies of the snake are realized... metal will follow. \n\n3...2...1... Snooze\n\n7:10\n\n\"Honey! Breakfast is ready!\" Like clockwork. Romantic some would deem it, to be in such synch with another. I found it to be painfully enslaving. \n\n\"I'll be down in a second Honey!\" \n\nI've come to realize that the first option is the way of the world. For years this was the headline; another bombing, disease, famine, natural disaster for years I lived with the way of the world because we are taught that is the way we should live. I never stopped to realize there was a choice... \n\n\"We've done it... We've discovered the cure for cancer!\" I couldn't believe the first time either. Millions cured almost as if it were overnight. No death, no destruction, just peace. \n\nFor six years peace was all this world knew. I couldn't stand the fighting any longer. The suffering I had caused the world; ironically in my attempt to live the way the world had intended me to I was only killing her. My eyes had been opened to a world of tranquility. I couldn't go back... but maybe I could go further. Snooze\n\n7:20\n\n\"Good Morning Mr. Wayne. Your reservation for the theatre has been confirmed.\" \n\n", "When the Strangers arrived on our planet with their 'alien tech' offering it for free to the applicant of their choosing, almost everyone I knew put in an application. Strange questions of ‘what would you do if…” and “Would you rather…” made it all seem like an overhyped joke. I almost didn’t submit mine but in the end I figured, what the hell?\n\nTwo months later and here I am, smack in the middle of Area 51 with some bogus story released to the world about how the surprise tech was actually a space ship that sent me back to the alien’s home planet. An effing Phone. That’s what they gave me. I’ve never wanted to throw something against the wall before, I’ve never been a violent man, but this seriously pissed me off. The one chance in the world to experience something completely unique, special, amazing and they give me an Android. I’m an iPhone guy, always have been, hardly know how to navigate the thing. But wait, there’s more.. oh yeah my life is like one big stupid informercial now. The alarm clock on the phone is programed to read the headlines when it goes off. The headlines that could be. And when you hit snooze, you’re forever stuck in the current headline. Three chances each morning to shape the world.\n\nThree chances.\n\nI’m a fucking genie. \n\nAnd the US government has taken me in because let’s be honest, they’ve always wanted to rule the world. I live in a huge lab-rat of a room they’ve made as ‘homey’ for me as they could. They don’t trust me in the real world so I’m stuck here, in Area 51, with an Android phone for an alarm clock and an alluring female voice over an intercom telling me ‘snooze’ or ‘wake’. I stopped looking at the headlines after it became clear my opinion wasn’t going to influence their choice.\n\nBuzz buzz BUZZ. “Snooze”. My hand reached out and I smacked the appropriate button. Buzz buzz BUZZ. silence. Buzz buzz BUZZ. Where is she? I crack open my eyes. WHAT THE HELL? Wood, bird song, fresh air. Did they change my room? Buzz buzz BUZZ. No, there’s no speakers, no voice. My eyes quickly find the phone, “FBI add Jake Reynolds to the top of their Most Wanted list.” Wait what? Why am I the most wanted? Oh. MY. GOD! I've escaped? Somehow the second headline this morning is my escape. I franticly pound the ‘wake’ button. Pressing it so hard it falls out of my hands. Jumping out of bed I snatch it back up. A sigh blows out of me, I pressed the right button. I’m free. I’m fucking free!\n\n“Did it work?” The most gorgeous woman I've ever seen walks in from what I assume is the bathroom. She’s dressed in a towel, hair still wet, voice as familiar as my own. “Or did you snooze?” It’s her. The alluring voice. I’m free, in a log cabin in who knows where with the voice that has haunted me for two long months. \n\n“Yeah it worked.”\n\nbe gentle with me, this is my first submission", "ZZT! ZZT! ZZT!\n\n\"Ugh... 5.30 already...\", I mumble to myself as I check for the morning's headline.\n\nIt reads, \"A coworker will show a romantic interest towards you today.\"\n\n\"...bollocks to it... I can sleep another ten minutes. Only one I'd be interested in is Heather, and with ny luck, it's bound to be Carla anyhow....\" I think to myself as I hit the snooze. My eyes fall shut once again.\n\nZZZT! ZZZZZT ZZZZZZZT!\n\nI check my phone again grumbling.\n\nThe headline reads, \"A kind stranger will bestow wealth upon you today.\"\n\n\"I'm not getting out of bed for ten quid...\" My hand pummels the snooze button once again. I revisit my friends in the dream realm.\n\nZZZZZZZZZZT! ZZZZZZZZZZZT! ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZT!\n\nI release a huge sigh. Surely, it hasn't already been ten minutes.\n\n\"You will fall into a deep coma unless you arise within five minutes.\"\n\n\"Now, this is my kind of future...\"\n\nMy eyes grow heavy once more. I wonder when I'll wake up...", "BEEP BEEP BEEP\n\nMy dreams are interrupted by familiar, yet annoying sound. Night turned into morning, and I turned from a calmly sleeping guy into the most powerful man - for a few minutes at least. I reached out and carefully picked up the source of the noise.\n\nThe Alarm of Fate - as the officials who handed it to me called it - is one of the most powerful artifacts humankind managed to salvage in Area 51. Now it sat in my lap. Every morning, I get to choose - will we live in the future the notification on the alarm shows, or perhaps we'll go for another one? It was as simple as hitting snooze and waiting a couple minutes until alarm starts ringing again. I'm not proud to say I've snoozed the alarm half-asleep without even sensing it. On one fateful morning I did it three times... That's how I learned it shuts off after the third one, and you're stuck in that final reality for the day. I've been far more careful since that fateful morning. The realization I could have saved my brother, and three thousand others in the twin towers, weighs too heavily to make such a stupid mistake ever again.\n\nI took a long breath and looked at the screen. Typically the first attempt is something insignificant, yet negative; not today.\n\nNorth Korea openly declares war on US; China promises support\n\nNo. No, I can't let this be real, that's too shitty of a start. Without too much thinking, I hit my first snooze. It has to get better, right?\n\nBEEP BEEP BEEP\n\nI look at the screen again.\n\nUFO sightings over New York; search and destroy mission kills thousands, leaves city in ruins\n\nWhat? Is this even real? No, I can't let this happen, this is a fate far, far worse than the previous one. Public-wide proof of aliens is one thing, and on its own I'd probably allow it, but in this way? When one of the biggest metropolitan cities gets burnt down on first meeting? No, I can't let that happen. I swipe to snooze.\n\nExcept, there is no snooze button this time. I look at the alarm, confused. Surely this wasn't the third one? The screen freezes, beeping stops, then the whole alarm shuts down - for the first time since I got it. Did the battery die on this exact moment, despite running without any external source for thirty years? I sense a chill in the air and as I lift my head, I realize there is a simpler explanation.\n\nWhatever was in front of me raised it's hand and said in a voice that was clearly not human:\n\n - Give it back.\n\n\n\n------\n\nLooking forward to any comments regarding style, grammar, flow of the story and more!", "Everyone over six foot tall must be taken to hard labour camps. Wouldn't you know that I'd sleep in today?\n\nThings were not going well. They arrived to arrest me not ten minutes after my third snooze. Society had become intolerant of long sleepers as quickly as we'd become intolerant of gluten.\n\nI arrived at my cell, hoping that tomorrow morning I'd have the opportunity to change my future. I'd never snoozed three time before. I'd never experienced the forks in timeline that I'd heard so much about. The entire population chopping and changing between realities, all to satisfy the demands for efficiency that big corporations placed upon us. \n\nMissing mere seconds of work was no longer an option. I'd written many articles on the injustice of the new snooze penalty system, but my words had fallen on deaf ears.\n\nThe armed guard left me in a cell, no cell mate in sight. The bed was long, presumably to accommodate my over six foot size.\n\nWithout my smartphone, I wasn't sure how I was going to choose a better headline tomorrow morning. I would have to hope that by simply getting out of bed, my reality would change.\n\nMy questions were answered, however, when the flap in my cell door opened and a simplified smartphone was pushed through the slot. It clattered to the ground but didn't break. I picked it up with reverence and placed it on the floor beside my bed. Hopefully I could leave the hell of this reality in a matter of hours.\n\nThat day, I laboured in a kind of salt mine. It was mostly automated, I was in charge of picking the robots up when their wheels jammed. The loose rock and salt particles made wheel jams an almost constant issue. This reality was a jumble, a chaos-ridden landscape of absurd proportions.\n\nI returned to my cell, tired, sweaty, and ready for this life to be discontinued. I lay down on the most unpleasant mattress I've ever felt. My eyes closed. \n\nMy eyes opened, my phone was buzzing in a cheap, hollow manner. I picked up my phone and read the headline: 'Headlines disabled until labour quota fulfilled.' My heart sank. What fresh hell was this?\n\nI clenched my fist. I rolled my rage into a hard sphere within my soul. I vowed to get my hands on a proper smartphone and take this entire snooze punishment system down.", "Some say that a good story never starts with someone waking up. After all, out of all the great men and women in history, how many of them has accomplished anything of worth before they've had breakfast?\n\nThis was not the case for Elise. Before the sun had peaked over the horizon, before she even clambered out of bed, she decided the story of each day for herself, for the whole world.\n\nUpon hearing the first beep of her alarm, she reached up dutifully, but grudgingly, towards her phone. Like a marionette, her hand seemed to move on it's own accord, wildly grasping at the phone before she even lifted her head from her pillow. No matter how tired she was, how little sleep she got, she never missed the first buzz, or the other two for that matter. Too much depended on it. \n\nWiping her rheumy eyes and bringing her glasses up to her face as quickly as she could, she anxiously read the first headline: War in Yemen Escalates, US Continues to Aid Saudis. Sighing in frustration, she hit snooze and opened up her settings, changing her default news app from the BBC to MSNBC. 'Only two shots left', she thought.\n\nRather than actually snoozing, she laid in bed with her eyes closed, but her mind racing in thought, hoping MSNBC would herald an insubstantial Trump tweet as world news. Using the BBC was always a gamble, but sometimes it would pay off with some beneficial, global event. She'd been whiddling down ISIS's strongholds in the middle East with its help, for instance.\n\nShe couldn't always hope for this, however, so she always switched off of the Brit's news outlet before the second round of beeps fired off. With MSNBC, especially nowadays, its vacuous headlines almost guaranteed that the only thing the future would be full of was bias and the president's inevitable rambling on twitter, making it an excellent failsafe. No such luck today: Trump launches insults at Kim Jong Un, North Korean Troops Mobilizing on the Border. \"Oh god, two is usually all it takes. I never thought it would come to this, but there's only one hope left.\"\n\nFive agonizing minutes went by. Elise heard the first beep, but her eyes were already locked on the screen. Not bothering to shut the alarm off off, she devoured the headline, sweat beading at her forehead, the incessant beeping of the alarm punctuating each syllable as it flew off the page: These Seven Photoshops of Peter Dinklage Riding a Scooter while carrying his Baby will make you LOL. Every ounce of tension fled her at once, the weight of the world lifted off of her shoulders. \"Thank god for buzzfeed\", she sighed. ", "HOBOKEN, NEW JERSEY\n\n...BZZZ...BZZZ...BZZZ...\n\n\"Just another day.\"\n\nYeah, no. Fuck that. Skipped for the millionth time.\n\n\"Confront your past.\"\n\nSure, right after I finish confronting the future. Next.\n\n\"A quiet night in.\"\n\nI think I'll get my fill of those when I'm lying in a casket. Come on lucky sevens.\n\n\"Let's see what you got.\"\n\nJackpot.\n\nI rolled out of bed and jogged to the bathroom. Took a piss, brushed my teeth, hopped in the shower. In eight minutes flat I was back in the bedroom, standing in front of the mirror and tying the knot on my tie with the baddest motherfucker I've ever seen staring back at me.\n\nMy phone vibrated on the bed. New notification. The 11am pitch to the VC downtown was now pushed up to 10:30am. Thanks for the heads up, assholes.\n\nI strapped the Sub around my wrist, grabbed my briefcase and headed downstairs. My wife turned to look at me and her mouth was about to open. I saw breakfast on the table out of the corner of my eye.\n\n\"Not today, babe.\" I opened the front door. \"The pitch was pushed up. Need to run. We'll celebrate tonight.\"\n\n* * \n\nThe elevator doors closed. We descended for three seconds. My partner turned toward me.\n\n\"You crazy bastard! You fucking killed it in there!\" His voice rose to an almost girlish squeal as he tried to contain his excitement. Fuck professionalism. He was right. We just pitched the hell out of our startup and took everything they threw at us and threw it right back at them. I loosened the knot on my tie.\n\n\"Well, looks like we've got the whole afternoon to congratulate ourselves,\" I said. \"What do you say we head down to 45th and get ourselves a little celebratory libation? My treat.\"\n\nWe hopped in the 5-Series and made our way down 2nd Avenue. Twenty minutes later I tossed the keys to the valet and we went inside. Five minutes after that I adjusted my posture, turned to my partner and raised the glass. The first blissful drops of the martini coated my tongue. Thirty seconds later I felt that subtle promise of a gilded future begin to wash over me.\n\nFor the rest of the afternoon we recalled all the best stories over the past twelve months trying to get this company off the ground. At some point we decided we needed a bigger audience and waved a couple of hot young women over to the table, then regaled them with more stories.\n\nAround 11pm I was feeling pretty good. We bid adieu to the women, and I saw my partner walk off toward the subway. The valet brought my car around.\n\n * \n\nI've got the windows rolled down and I'm doing 100 across the bridge. The air is cool in my hair. I am in control of my destiny. I look out and see Manhattan lit up in the distance. The sky is the limit.\n\nWhat the fuck. I hit the horn.\n\n\"Learn to drive you fucking asshole!\" I turn the wheel hard to the right and begin to swerve. I feel the tires smash over something underneath. I begin to feel myself lift and turn.\n\nWhat. The. FUCK.\n\n * \n\nFREDERICK, MARYLAND\n\n...BZZZ...BZZZ...BZZZ...\n\n\"Just another day.\"\n\nRise and shine. I looked over to my left and saw the bed was empty. I guess Michelle beat the alarm yet again. She was definitely the early bird in the marriage. I walked across the bedroom and grabbed my robe off the chair. As I headed over to the stairs, I could already smell the eggs and bacon wafting up from the kitchen.\n\nI pulled up a chair and sat down at the table. I began flipping through the newspaper as Michelle walked over and placed a couple of plates down in front of us. I heard the familiar sound of feet trampling down the stairs.\n\n\"Hey Mom! Hey Dad! I'm going to school now!\"\n\n\"All right, buddy!\" I called out to him. \"Do your best!\"\n\n\"Love you, honey!\" Michelle called out after.\n\nWhat a great kid.\n\nI took a bite of the eggs.\n\n\"Thanks, dear,\" I said. \"They're delicious.\"", "Beep.\n\nA daily game. A daily gamble. I didn't understand why it was me, and why the power of a future-changer was in my hands, but I sure as hell knew my importance. I rolled over, eyes already opened and brain ready to process. This had better be good...\n\n'Worldwide bomb strike annihilates Asia'. Fuck...that was one of the worst I'd ever got, next to the World War I'd nearly started. Without hesitation, I smashed the snooze button.\n\nBeep.\n\nAgain. And with the memory of the near disaster I'd averted still fresh in my mind, I moved on to the next headline. But this...it was different. For the first time, I saw a glowing button at the bottom of the headline. 'Your next headline will be about: Billions of dollars being added to your account' was the curt message. The headline was world hunger and poverty being solved, for good. I looked at the reward I would get if only I'd pressed snooze. But...the world...people starved and people begged. This would help millions upon millions trapped under the society's footsteps. To take their right to be equal away...it was wrong. Definitely wrong. But I wasn't poor. Nor was I hungry. At 4am in the morning, I made a decision that cost the world.\n\nI hit snooze.\n\nBeep.* The mechanical sound mocked my selfishness, my greed. It seemed to scold me, the cries of the poor I'd damned forever ringing in my head. I tried to turn over to my phone, but waves of regret and guilt washed over me. It was all my fault. My stupidity. My selfishness. And the ultimate punisher was myself. The very conscience I'd tried to ignore. Dragging myself to the bedside table, I checked the headline.\n\nThere was none.\n\nIn its place, there was a short paragraph of text. 'Dear Elrick, you've just condemned millions to death and generations more to a life worse than Hell. All for 'the money'. Well, guess what? We have no money for people, scum, pardon me, like you. But we do have something you might find interest in. Take a gander at the choice we offer you again, and choose wiser than you just did. The people of the world are counting on you.' My money...the only reason I'd done this! Where was my cash I was promised? I looked around wildly for it, and in a small corner I found it. Above was the sign: Money. But before I dashed for it, I saw the sign next to a red button. 'Forgiveness' was written on the sign. The choice was mine again. Cash, or morals?\n\nThis time, the choice was clear. I looked at the cash with a last, longing glance, then I walked towards the button. I could almost hear a sigh of relief. I smirked, as my athletic training proved useful. I darted quickly to the pile of money, greedily snatching it all. I could almost feel the looks of dismay.\n\nSorry. No justice in this world, after all.\n______________________________\nMore over at r/Whale62! Sequels at popular request!", "The first few bleats of my alarm shatter sleep, wake me instantly. My heart lurches for my throat. I am all deep breaths and muted terror. Beside me Arnold rolls over in his sleep.\n\nI have to look. I have to look and I have to decide.\n\nI grip my comforter between my fingers, letting the alarm ring for a few seconds more. These are the most tenuous moments of my day, as if I could let this be Schrodinger's phone forever, and if I never looked I would never have to know the truth.\n\nBut not looking wasn't an option. It just snoozes itself for me. I have tried.\n\nI turn my phone over, wincing. Google's breaking headline: Trump brings environmental regulations for the oil industry to historic lows\n\nI suck air through my teeth. A difficult choice, a big gamble. I only have two chances to try again--to re-roll our collective fate, if you will. It's like the scariest casino game in the world, and no one has any idea I play it every day. Keeping the earth alive for an extra couple of decades was respectable, but wasn't it better to sacrifice a bit more of the ice caps if my next snooze brought about nuclear war or another dissolution of civil rights somewhere much further away than this sticky hot room, this man snoring in blissful ignorance beside me.\n\nI whisper a prayer to no one in particular. \"Please be a good one.\"\n\nAnd I hit snooze.\n\n**\n\nWhen I open my eyes again, ten minutes feeling like an absolute eternity, I roll over immediately to look at my phone. On the second time I never wait. It's only the first and third times that I hesitate, the weight of the unknown leadening my arms, filling my whole chest with iron dread. \n\nThis time the headline in my notifications read: Los Angeles has been struck by a nuclear bomb.\n\nI stare and I stare, my tears collecting in my throat. I cover my phone with a pillow to stifle it, grateful not for the first time that my husband sleeps like the dead. If I wake him, hitting snooze again won't matter. We will be stuck here, in this version of things, forever.\n\nI deliberate, pulling hard at my hair. I knew I shouldn't have rerolled. I knew I should have hedged a safe bet and let the planet take on just a little more fossil fuels. Or maybe this version of things really is for the planet's wellbeing. Chernobyl seems a lot better off without people around.\n\nThe thoughts pinballing around my brain stun and horrify me as I realize how casually I'm weighing out planet life against human life, like an immortal judge who has no idea how to use her scales of justice to keep matters in perspective.\n\nI hate to bank it all on my third try, but we are only two states away from California. And even I still have a strong sense of self-preservation, after seeing life as I know it flourish or die depending on what little notification happens to blip across my phone first thing in the morning.\n\nEyes squeezed shut, I hit snooze one last time.\n*\nThis time when I wake, the bed is empty, and the room is cold. Arnold must be in the bathroom. At first fear coils up my toes, but then I remember that this is the third try. Whatever reality I've woken up in now is firmly, irrevocably cemented as truth.\n\nI roll over to look at my phone. A sob tears through my tight chest.\n\nThis announcement was from a regional newspaper, not important enough for national headlines: Local man Arnold Karyus tragically killed in lumber accident.\n\nThe two horrible truths of this reality punch me in the gut and I bend over double, not sure if I want to cry or scream to get this black bile out of my lungs before I could drown in it.\n\nLos Angeles here. Arnold gone.\n\nArnold here. Los Angeles gone.\n\nI don't know what it says about me that I'd rather millions dead than living in this house alone. But I can't help feeling, not for the first time in my life, that I should never have hit snooze that third time. \n**\n/r/shoringupfragments" ]	[ 1, 3, 6, 6, 11, 12, 13, 23, 77, 102 ]	[ "1501589063", "1501622684", "1501620628", "1501623944", "1501615565", "1501597747", "1501621447", "1501594351", "1501596698", "1501595023" ]
[deleted]	[WP] You scroll through r/WritingPrompts and discover a prompt that contains your full name and address, along with a simple note: "Kill with scissors for $150,000".	1	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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", "Just as I finish reading the prompt, I hear a knock at my door.\n\nWho could that be? I wonder, as I go and open the door.\n\n\"Yes?\" I answer.\n\nThe man looks at the shotgun in my hand, hides the scissors in his hand behind his back, and smiles, backing away. \"Heh heh...sorry, wrong address,\" he says. \n\nHmm. Weird, I think, then go to write about my weird experience on Reddit. " ]	[ 1, 5 ]	[ "1501605559", "1501606406" ]
Do people just lose, say, their ability to dance or jam out to music? Their early memories? Do they have to spend a day in hell? What do people get from these trades? Go wild :)	[WP] Demons start accepting/using micro-transactions for people who are looking to sell their soul	5	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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 parking in a spot not too far away from the front door to the building, Kathy exited her car and slammed the door shut without looking at it. She adjusted the strap of a Michael Kors purse, its brass adornments gleaming, and walked purposefully through the sliding door. The warehouse-height building was located in one of those corporate areas where the only visitors are the 9-5 workers, the nightly security guards, and a passing troop of raccoons. Kathy's destination, Demoncorp, touted a paper-white \"Demoncorp,\" sign that was so bright on clear days it cast a seeping illumination on the dull grey brick wall it hung from.\n\nKathy pressed her body against the receptionist's breast-high desk.\n\n\"I'm here to speak to a customer service representative. My account number is 48297.\"\n\nSensing a simmering volcano of hurry and frustration in Kathy's voice, the receptionist skipped pleasantries and immediately consulted an iPad.\n\n\"Yes, Zardor, Torturer of Aborted Fetuses, will be taking care of you this morning. He just stepped out to grab a coffee with the girls from accounting, but he'll be in shortly.\"\n\nA well-groomed man then leaned his upper torso out of one of the office doorways behind the receptionist and said \"I'm here, Betsy.\" Zardor acknowledged Kathy with a smile that lasted his entire walk up to greet her. \"Kathy, nice to see you in person after having spoken on the phone. Can I get you something to drink, tea, coffee?\"\n\n\"No, thanks.\" she said.\n\nThey walked into Zardor's office. It had a window showing the back parking lot where the employees parked. Kathy looked out at the hot metal cars baking on the oven-tray asphalt.\n\n\"There was a problem with my last transaction. It's faulty.\"\n\nZardor, smoothing his grey tie against his abdomen, leaned towards his computer screen and analyzed her file.\n\n\"Your last transaction was your husband. Our records show that he has not significantly changed since he was given to you and that he is not a client of ours, meaning his soul is intact. Can you describe the problem to me again?\"\n\n\"He was perfect at first. Like, make your friends jealous perfect. I had one hang up about him in the past: he jumped into marriage so quickly, but I imagined that was you guys being conscious of my upcoming 30th.\"\n\n\"Yes, that was us,\" Zardor confirmed.\n\n\"Well, now he doesn't work anymore. In fact, I fucking hate him. Or maybe I don't. I've just gotten frustrated with him recently. I know I don't love him. I requested to be married to a perfect man and what I got isn't perfect. I don't feel anything when we make love, but he still foolishly wants to. I see how weak he is without affection from me.\"\n\nZardor minimized Kathy's file, and put his arms on the part of the desk between him and Kathy. He was middle aged-looking, but his age was hard to guess. He always had the fresh look of a recent shower even at the end of the day, and would chew gum constantly, pausing his chewing only when serious moments arose. He interdigitated his fingers, stopped chewing his gum, and exhaled slowly as he leaned toward Kathy.\n\n\"First of all, I want to assure you that our technicians are extremely effective at getting the job done, so you, our valued client, gets a fair deal. The courtesy, however, does not extend to proofreading of client's wishes. We at Demoncorp try our best to match actuality to our client's requests, even ones that are difficult to interpret. In your case, a perfect man is hard to define, but we combined the analytics from your character assessment with focus group data of women ages 25-30 to provide a serviceable approximation.\n\nNow, what we're seeing happening with you is not new. This news is always difficult for me to share. Are you sure you wouldn't like some tea or coffee?\"\n\n\"What's the problem?\" Kathy asked urgently.\n\n\"Well, there are two possibilities here. I want to first let you know that in these circumstances, our technicians do not troubleshoot which of the two possibilities is true.\nThe first possibility, which isn't too bad if you ask me, is that this is just normal marriage decay. Tom is a high quality male, but he is now also a free man. Part of what you saw in him during courtship was our influence, nudging his heart toward yours. Once you two were married, Demoncorp fulfilled its contractual obligation and is no longer bound to exerting control over Tom's will. He is human, and humans have flaws that are either inflamed or cooled in the spouse's eyes. I'm almost certain this is the case.\"\n\n\"Ok, what's the other possibility?\"\n\n\"The other possibility really is kind of hard to detect. Impossible, probably. This information really is in the blackbox of the system. Can I remind you of the terms of our agreement?\"\n\n\"Sure.\"\n\n\"You signed up for a soul time-release wherein appropriate deductions are to be made from your soul as you receive your requests. This is to occur until the total bankruptcy of your soul or until death. Now, a lot of people view their soul in terms of nameable components, and fair enough. They want to sell the memory of a loved one, the ability to laugh, and we just started being able to do those micro-transactions. The thing is, that's not the case for our time-release accounts. We still view your soul in bulk, sort of like a homogeneous currency that gets paid to fate.\n\nThe good thing about that set-up, is that you don't notice the good memories leaving, they just go. The bad thing is that you never know if or when you've lost something you need to enjoy what you have. You don't know your conscience has left until you've just killed.\n\nA marriage with a perfect man required a lot of demon-power and time and that inflicted a major deduction on your soul. It is possible that the pieces of your soul that loved Tom, or could have loved Tom, were taken in that lump sum payment. Like I said, that's the blackbox - it's just percentages to us and data to the system.\"\n\n\"How can I find out?\" asked Kathy?\n\n\"You can't.\"\n\n\"But that's not fair! Why would I want a perfect husband if I can't love him?\" Kathy was almost screaming. She heard the shuffling of nosy workers get into an eavesdropping pose outside the office.\"\n\nZardor, Torturer of Aborted Fetuses, slowly stood, rising to a domineering height over Kathy who remained seated, and eclipsed the window sun with his head. He looked downward at her face, his sunlit grey hair and beard more wolf-like.\n\n\"What a stupid, pathetic weasel of a human you are.\" He laughed in a way that unnerved Kathy. \"The amount of soul you have left cannot afford you customer service. We have taken most of the measly amount you came to us with, you lousy human.\" He began to scream epileptically, causing thick particles of spit to land on Kathy. \"Do you think a woman like you deserves anyone more than a man who crushes beer cans with his forehead? Do you think a woman who barters her soul deserves to keep it? Maybe if it were bigger to start with you could have chosen otherwise. But no, you came to us, weasel that you are eeking out an an unremarkable existence, to chase after stupid shit in exchange for the only thing that makes you humans different from us. We know you guys are as evil, rapacious, violent, and jealous as we are. This is why we do this and now we are done with you. You barely have any soul left. Betsy can give you a cyanide pill on the way out; I recommend it.\"\n\nZardor threw Kathy, rigid like a mannequin, out of the office.\n\nBetsy approached, \"right this way ma'am.\"" ]	[ 1, 2 ]	[ "1501630731", "1501639346" ]
	[WP] You see the mailman every day as you sit on your porch. One day he delivers you a letter stating your date of death.	1	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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 a normal Tuesday morning, or rather, it should have been. John got out of bed at seven thirty precisely, as he always did. Gingerly reaching for his slippers, he could feel the wear and tear on his back from his youth. As he walked down the hallway, the barren walls judged his every move. Running low on beers again. John thought as he eyed the last bottle on the shelf. The bottle nearly slips out of his hand as he pops the cap off over the counter. He swirls the alcohol and takes a swig.\n\nThe chair lets out a shrieking wail as John eased himself into its embrace. Leaning back, he felt the Arizona sun blazing down on him. He adjusted the brim of his hat and unfolded his newspaper. The sound of footsteps on John’s lawn swelled as the mailman arrived.\n\n“Morning John, find a wife yet?” The man joked.\n\n“Not yet Marv, but if you can find me a lady who loves washed up old men who peaked in high school, send her my way. Actually, don’t, I don’t want to marry someone with such low standards.” John said, sighing as he finished. \n\n“Well, here’s your mail, something from the government. You laundering money out here, John?” \n\n“If I was, do you think I’d still be in this damn state?” \n\n“Well, have a good day anyways John.” \n\nJohn let out a grunt as he took set down his newspaper and tore open the letter. He took a drink of his beer as he inspected the contents. The sole content of the envelope was a singular piece of paper, which read. \n\nJonathan William Preston,\n\n117 N. Maple Drive\n\nHello,\n\t\nWe are terribly sorry to inform you that you have been selected to be included in Operation Deforestation. \n\nOur staff has reviewed your file among many others. You have a consistent record which matches with our profiles. Throughout your life, you have made the decision which harms your well-being ninety five percent of the time. If the human race is expected to continue, we need only the people who will help our species survive this crucial time. Because you have been selected, you will receive your date of death to ensure you have ample time to say goodbye to your loved ones and sort out your estate. \n\nYou will die on July 7th, 2042.\n\nOur Apologies,\n \nThe Department of Overcrowding Control.\n\n\n\nAfter what seems like hours of being lost in thought, John got out of his chair and made his way down the street. July 7th, they’re giving me a week to accept my death. A fucking week? Kicking rocks as he walks past parks filled with children, he can only help but question the morality of his situation. The wrong choice, ninety five percent of the time. How is that even possible? I have strived to be the most selfless person I can. I dropped out of high school to provide for my family after my father died. I didn’t marry because I couldn’t throw the burden that I am on someone who deserved better. \n\nThe sun setting on John’s ambitions, he found his way back home. He had no loved ones to say goodbye to, and the only possession he had to his name was his one bedroom home. Maybe I have been the opposite of what the world needs from me, but I am myself, and that is all that I need. A sense of urgency fills him, and he digs up the spare money he has saved around his home. If they think they’re going to just kill whoever they want with no repercussions, they’re in for a shock. Realizing his purpose, John loads the gun he keeps under his bed. A slight shuffling in his kitchen draws John’s attention. Rounding the corner, he feels that someone is behind him. Before he can turn around, he hears a sudden shot, and his vision blurs. \n\nTHE DAILY TRIBUNE\n\n*GLENDALE MAN, 63, FOUND DEAD, CAUSE OF DEATH: SUICIDE*\n" ]	[ 1, 2 ]	[ "1501643966", "1501652468" ]
	[WP] Unbeknownst to you, the bullies you encounter throughout life are your future reincarnations. They bully you in an attempt to whip you into shape.	5	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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", "In law enforcement, there is a very common saying. \"We train for our lives.\" \n\nI would never understand how true this statement is until I reached the end of my career as an old, now retired police lieutenant. \n\nWhen I was growing up, I was always the smallest. I was often the youngest as well, as if to emphasize my place at the totem poll. The biggest part of my being though, was my never-satisfied drive to be something greater than what I was on the outside. To be recognized and admired, and to be powerful, but to be the kind of person who would flex that power with a gentle hand. \nThis proved to be physically very difficult, and although I was intelligent, the military and law enforcement worlds often favor physical ability to mental. Which in some respects is understandable. In a testosterone fueled environment one will fail if they can't fight. However, I did incredibly well in my studies, but simply chose to keep them to myself. Didn't want to be the nerd I suppose. \nI didnt encounter many bullies in my life. But the ones that I did encounter, I will never forget. \nFirst there was Bryan. I'm a bit on the shorter side, and to put it simply, Bryan was about 6'6 and built with bone and lean muscle. We studied martial arts together and although he was considerably older than me, he took it upon himself to give me a hard time for everything. Every time we would be told to pair up, he would clamp down on my shoulder, hard, and proceed to knock me down again and again.. And again. Kick me when i was down, then throw me over his shoulder and slam me down yet again. It got old fast, and he would always be sure to give a cute little nickname after each takedown. \"Pipsqueak, Smalls, Shortstop, etc.\" It would really piss me off and I considered switching academies to go somewhere that i could actually have a chance to hit back, instead of always ending up on my back. I felt as though I learned nothing. Little did I know, that one day I would be sitting here, old and grey, because I had taught myself how to get back up. \n\nNext there was James. A 20 year retired Marine and the head of my class in the Police Academy. He was a little tricky because sometimes he would be a very kind and helpful individual, and other times brutal. Miles upon miles of running for not having the perfect ironed crease in my uniform pants, pushups until you fell for forgetting to polish your boots, ridicule for being a slow runner and only a pat on the back once you had thrown up after a run, at which point I only had enough strength left to respond by cursing at him under my breath. It seemed that he got a kick out of showingbme how small I was, how much trouble I'd have as a small officer, and how my young age would cause people to treat me like a joke. Combat classes were even worse. Being once again the smallest and the youngest, here was round two of being picked on and beat on, especially by the Marine. This time I was much older than I had been with Bryan, and those years of martial arts training had finally begun to pay off. Equipted with a fake duty belt, handcuffs, and a red gun(fake gun), our scenarios were often kept simple: take down and detain the \"suspect\" by getting them into cuffs. Luckily, this time I was more confident, maybe too confident. I ran at the largest suspect, the Marine, who had my partner pinned down. I quickly realized my mistake as he held me up by the collar and broke the drywall with my back. Against all rules, a dirty shot to the groin resulted in my escape and I handcuffed him. Once again, I never knew then that I had taught myself how to fight for my life. No matter how you have to earn it. There are no rules on the street. \n\nThis was the beggining of my encounters with my final bully. I was disciplined heavily for my actions in combat class, and I was sent to the directors office to be spoken with. I was told that if I couldnt learn how to work with my team, that law enforcement was no place for me. I thought this to be an odd thing to say considering the circumstances. I mean, i was fighting someone who had just put my through a wall and was potentially trying to take my gun. (a little background: if your opponent gets your gun, all they had to say was BANG and the scenario was over. You were dead, you had failed the course.) Where was his discipline for breaking a wall? Oh well. A couple of days passed and this conversation preyed on my mind. It was only then though, that things started to really go down hill. The director began overseeing our physical training and noticed that I was often in the back of the run line. I was strong, and I was quick, but I was horrible at long distance. So then he begins a new rule. The last five runners would run the entirety of the excersize again. This, on top of the still rough and difficult combat classes, caused me to form a tear in the cartilage of my right knee. We were a week out from taking our final physical and the director again pulled me into his office. He informed me with a cold tone that if I couldn't take the physical, I couldn't graduate. I was furious. I have never felt such a fire behind my own eyes. Here was this man, who sat behind his desk and left early every day and gloated about his long and impressive law enforcement history (he was no older than 40), and he was telling me that I would have to start the 7 month process over, or simply quit because of an injury that he indirectly caused. (or maybe directly.) When I protested and asked for some kind of option other than the ones given, he laughed in my face and told me that people like myself dont make it in Law Enforcement. To finish up this part of the story quickly and sweetly, I ended up taking the physical with an injured knee, then scored the second to highest marks out of my class on not only the Academy academic test, but out of my class on the state test as well. When I went to pick up my graduation certificate, I had hoped to be able to look him in the eyes and take it directly from him. But when I arrived, he was nowhere to be found. He had left early. I left that day with a strange sensation though. I wasn't angry. I was thankful for being given the challenges he threw at me. And somehow I knew I'd be better off for just walking away that day and never looking back. \nOddly, he may be the bully I am most thankful for. He found my drive. I could take a lot and not say much when it came to authority. But he tried to come between me and my dream, and I fought hard for it. Not just physically this time. He tried to tear me down mentally too. I am thankful to him for lighting my fire, and for (very indirectly) teaching me how to take the high road, and to let grudges roll off my shoulders. They weigh you down, and I needed desperately to fly. \n\nI proceeded to become an officer. I loved every minute of my job. And I know a lot more now than I did then. A few tricks of the trade if you will. I have been beat down, I have bled, I have been shot and chased down countless runners. But I was prepared because of what I learned on my journey here. I was prepared, because I had some help from others hoping to guide me. And now, I hope to pass this on to you, my very young self. It's going to be hard. It's going to make you angry. And you will not have the satisfaction of rubbing it in my face when you succeed. But I hope that you walk away proud of yourself, the way I am proud of myself now. I hope I have taught you to stay strong, and how to take a hit. And now its time for my, and your last lesson. \n\nI have to go now, I have just called you to my office. And this conversation will not be a pleasant one. " ]	[ 1, 2 ]	[ "1501685771", "1501706445" ]
[removed]	[WP] PEANUT...	0	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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\nStop with the peanut prompts, please ;)\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/6r61is/wp_peanut/%0A%0A)\n\nThis action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things." ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1501697027", "1501697044" ]
[removed]	[WP] An alien anthropologist studying hominids discovers memes.	1	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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/6r672e/wp_an_alien_anthropologist_studying_hominids/%0A%0A)\n\nThis action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things." ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1501698276", "1501698484" ]
	[WP] A young, depressed person has nowhere else to turn. They see an advertisement that says "Find again life in that which has died" and calls the number. A necromancer picks up.	2	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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", "*Ring, ring, ring, ring, ring* click\n\n\n - \"Hello?\"\n\n\n- \"Hi, is this the therapy line or crisis number...or something?\"\n\n\n- \"Therapy?\"\n\n\n- \"Yeah, ...have I got the wron-\"\n\n\n- \"This ain't no therapy\"\n\n\n\nThe caller sits there, silent. The man who answered does the same. A few seconds go past.\n\n\n\n- \"Did you see you the advert?\"\n\n\n\nThe man asked with a southern twang. \n\n\n\n- \"Yeah, for Christ sake what kind of therapy line is this\"\n\n\n\nThe caller snappily questioned, his tone growing angrier.\n\n\n\n\"Goddamn it! THIS AINT NO THERAPY LINE!\"\n\n\n\nHis southern twang turned to a southern shout.\n\n\n\n- \"Hey don't give me shitt, it's your number on a therapy advert!\"\n\n\n\n-\"No it isn't.\"\n\n\n\n- \"Ahem...'Find life in which it has died', what'd ya suppose that means?\"\n\n\n\nThe caller questioned with a three parts confidence and two parts anger.\n\n\n\n- \"Exactly what it says.\"\n\n\n\nThe man answers loudly, his tone suggests that it is obvious. He starts to see what has happened.\n\n\n\n- \"Which is why I'm calling you, but you're acting like this isn't a therapy line.\"\n\n\n\n - \"It's not\"\n\n\n\nThe caller is nearing the maximum amount of this he can take.\n\n\n\n- \"Well I doubt the advert was literal! So the only other explanation is that you're an asshole!\"\n\n\n\nThe man chose to ignore that.\n\n\n\n- \"Well what else would it mean?\"\n\n\n\n- \"Fuck you.\"\n\n\n- click\n\n\n\n\nThe caller reached the maximum amount and hung up.\n\n\n\n\"You too, mister\"\n\n\n\nThe man answered pointlessly.\n\n\n\nA few hours went by, the caller paced about a bit, watched a movie, and thought about the phonecall. The man did roughly the same, though instead of watching a movie he watered his plants, he was going to needed more ingredients.\n\n\n\n\"He'll be back. They always are.\"\n\n\n\nThe man said whilst chuckling.\n\n\n\n*Ring, ring, ring* click\n\n\n\n- \"Hello?\"\n\n\n\n- \"Hi.\"\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n" ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1501734527", "1501738475" ]
	[WP] Tattoos aren't something that gets made. Instead they randomly appears on our skin at key points in our lives and we have to figure out what they mean for ourselves.	1,343	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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's not fair, is it? You go about your day-to-day life. You go to work, raise a family, hang out with friends. Then all of a sudden, boom! You have a tattoo of a cute little teddy bear cuddling a piglet appear on your arm, just as you kiss your little girl and tuck her into bed. How terrible! Terrifying for her and unsettling for you. You could lose your job over it, your home, even your wife and kids! You become a pariah, treated like a leper. \nAll because one of your ancestors back in the 21st century made terrible life choices and chose to get a tattoo just like it and went to a parlor that used radioactive ink.\nAt Skin Deep, we can help. As a Dermal Recovery Physician, I can guarantee your skin will be beautiful, healthy, and free of those nasty tattoos that randomly appear when you aren't looking. I can't promise others won't appear, but I can guarantee you will never see that teddy bear on your arm again!\nSo give us a call and we will make sure your beauty isn't just Skin Deep. ", "First time posting here in WP, so I would appreciate any tips n such!\n\nWe’re not really sure how or why they appear. Some say they’re omens. Some liken them to tattoo’s. Others compare them to scars. But in the end, everyone is Marked. \n\nWhen my first Mark appeared, I knew something terrible had happened. I can remember it clearly. It’s funny how these pivotal moments in our lives get stuck in our mind, clear as crystal. I was 20 years old, studying in my dimly lit room, cursing the numbers on the paper in front of me as they refused to add up, dragging out my assignment. It was already dark out, a chilly autumn evening muted by cloud cover. I was at home, in my bedroom on the first floor while my 10 year old brother, Darren, was upstairs playing. I groaned at the sounds of thumping above me, knowing he was getting himself all excited, and playing rough with his toys, taking advantage of the fact that I was busy and our parents were out.\n\nI was working away when my bicep began to itch. I thought it was just a bug bite, and I scratched at it a little, knowing full well I shouldn’t. However, instead of the guilty pleasure and relief that normally floods through a person when they cave in and scratch a bite, I found myself flooded with pain. My fingernails had turned into searing hot blades that scored their way through my flesh. I gasped, the air knocked from my lungs and ripped my hand away before roughly pushing up my sleeve. \n\nThere, moving under my skin, were two sea serpents, coiling and constricting around my left bicep. They writhed angrily beneath my flesh, as if it shared in my pain. I knew, then, I was receiving my first Mark. I hadn’t known why, but from all accounts, you generally knew soon enough. See, Marks tended appear after a significant, life altering event. Often at times such as a wedding or the birth of a child. However, the Marks tended to be unique to each specific event, and it was often up to the receiver of the Mark to decide what the Mark meant. Sometimes, the Marks represented the internal change in a person. Other times, the Marks told of danger. While few could agree on what any one Mark meant, most agreed that they showed of a significant turn in a person’s life. And everyone could agree that getting one hurt like a bitch.\n\nMy Mark, the serpents, appeared to be in agony, gnashing their wide ferocious jaws. The long, scaled tails thrashed about violently, as though the anguish that coursed through their sinuous bodies could be shaken away, like dust from a rug. My ears rang and tears stung my eyes, dulling my senses, obscuring the violent movements happening on my arm.\n\n\nFinally, the serpents began to slow, now in their death throes. They lashed out once, then twice, before each clamped vicious jaws shut on the other’s tail. Then, they moved no more. \n\nMy body was shaking, and my arm ached and burned, reminding me of school days where as kids we twisted each other’s flesh to test our manliness. I stared at the serpents, now interwoven and coiled around my arm, and admired them. Both serpents had intricate scales, wide, ferocious jaws, and lithe muscular bodies. One seemed to be slightly thicker than the other, while the second was longer. . The thick one had passionate, eyes that looked through me, as if knowing my secrets. The longer one’s eyes had a gentler look to them, a sense of caring and sorrow emanating from deep within them. There was no sign of anguish in them now. Instead, they wrapped around each other, and then around me, in a tight embrace. The mark had no color, just fine black lines giving unsettling realism to my new companions. As I admired the Mark, the pain ceased. Then, the ringing in my ears began to fade, and was replaced, instead, with Darren’s screams.\n\n\nI rushed out of my room and up the stairs to his, my mind now forgetting the mark on my arm. I heard a shower turn on as a reached the top of the stairs. I ran to the bathroom where I found my brother, Darren, lying under a stream of cold water, fully clothed, and scrubbing manically at his arm. I rushed to his side, pulled his hand away from his arm, and pushed up his sleeve. I saw two intertwines serpentine bodies, and staring back at me was a pair of familiar eyes. \n\n\nI was doing my best to calm and soothe my poor brother. He whined about his aching arm and I did my best to make him comfortable. We had been sitting on the floor for several minutes, when the pain finally ceased. I was bundling him up in a towel when there was a knock at the door. I swung the door open, and a man in a long black coat stood there, in the rain, and asked for me. Rain tinkled lightly of his silver badge at his breast, and I noticed his sleek, black patrol car behind him. I am sure this officer and I made quite the funny image. He looked perfectly dry standing in the rain, as if the evaporated before touching him, and the few drops that dared touch him fled, as of afraid of getting a citation. Whereas, I stood inside my cozy house and was drenched from head to toe. I asked the officer what I could do for him, and he asked to step inside. As he walked through the threshold, I closed the door behind him, shutting out that autumn rainy night. What he told me made our new Marks make sense.\n\nDarren and I were now orphans.\n\nThis was almost a decade ago, and why I was at this bar. I had left college to raise my brother, and just started to have a thriving social life again. I had carefully spent as little as I could of my parents life insurance while raising Darren, and it had paid off. Darren was able to get into a good school, we had enough saved so he could attend and he had just left to start classes. My parents’ house was now empty, it’s too many rooms only inhabited by me.\n\nI didn’t like it there, alone in that big house, so I called a good friend of mine, Jonah, to meet me at this bar. I wanted to know his thoughts on selling the place, or if he thought I should keep it in case I meet the right lady and want to start my own family. On one hand, if I sold it, I could finish my own education. On the other hand, I might need it in the future, and honestly, was afraid to be without it. I chewed nervously on my lip while my fingers traced the outline of the serpents on my arm.\n\nSuddenly, the door flew open and Jonah came strolling in. Jonah is the kind of guy who you notice when he walks in the door, and tends to fill up the room. He is the life of the party, and has his head perpetually in the clouds. I, was his counterpart. Generally quiet, realistic, and did my best to keep him from floating away. The last thing he needed was a Mark of melted wax wings running down his back. \n\nI push back my barstool, and walk over to greet him.\n\n“There he is!” Jonah shouted, as if I was a half mile away. A few older men turned heavily lined faces, their dull eyes following my friend who burst with light. Heavily Marked arms and hands fidgeted with the scotch soaked cubes in their cups.\n\n“Hey Jonah” I replied, my voice appropriately quiet for a mostly empty bar on a Tuesday night, as he leaned in for an embrace.\n\nJonah claps me on the back and gives a world enveloping hug. When he does so, a pain shoots between my shoulder blades. That white hot pain. I feel like I’ve been stabbed in the back and let out a shocked gasp. Jonah releases me and I tear off my shirt.\n\n“It’s a Mark! It’s a Mark! I know it is! What is it!?” I shout, panicked and afraid, spinning in circles, trying to reach it. \n\n“Calm down dude. I’m sure everything is fine.” Jonah tries to reassure me. “Maybe you’re just going to meet the love of your life tonight.” He continues in his room filling voice, winking at me, before waggling eyebrows at the young bartender behind the counter. \n\n“Oh cut the shit, Jonah. What is it?” I snap, turning around\n\n“Uh….I don’t see it? What are you talking about? There’s no mark.”\n\n“Yes, there is. I know there is.” I hiss at him, trying to control my panic. My fear. My rage. \n\nI snatch the straw out of his drink. “It’s right here.” I say emphatically and jab the straw next to the Mark, using it as a pointer.\n\n“Ohhhhh. I thought that was a mole.”\n\n“What do you mean a mole?” I ask, jaw clenched\n\n“You know, like a freckle? Only bigger.” Jonah mumbles that last part\n\n“I KNOW WHAT A MOLE IS JONAH.\n\n“It looks like a period to me.” chimes in the amused bartender, voice dancing with suppressed laughter.\n\n“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I am getting panicky again, and can feel it rising up to suffocate me. I swallow it down and wrestle my shirt back on.\n\n“Hell if I know.” Says Jonah. I glare at him as he picks up his drink, mouth gaping like a fish, failing to find the straw I removed. He finally glances down, realizes it’s not there, and slowly raises the drink to his mouth, as if he didn’t just look like a gaping idiot. This actually makes me feel a little better.\n\nAfter a sip, Jonah says “Well, periods tend to be the end of a sentence, right? Or a statement. Did you quit your job today or something?”\n\n“No.” I grumble “I wish I had”\n\n“Are you dying” asks the bartender, now interested in our conversation.\n\n“No, I am not dying” exasperation creeping back into my voice. Then, a thought creeps into my head \n\n‘I don’t think I am dying at least. Oh god, am I dying?’ The panic is threatening me again when the bartender interrupts my thoughts. \n\nCont...", "Fully realize that this is probably all over the place and doesn't hold a candle to what everyone else has put forward, but I enjoyed writing this. Hopefully it meets your expectations!\n-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n“I...I'm scared.” The words seemed to blurt out by themselves. It was just the two of us, curtains drawn and with still-warm takeout on the bedside table. I mean, we'd had sex before but this was more intimate, not something to just pop my top off and flash about for. “It's okay,” They said to me. “I'm scared too. There's no pressure, okay? You don't have to show me; there's no need to rush this my sweet.” A hand ran up my arm, gently squeezing as they leant in to whisper in my ear. “I'm going to show you mine now, okay? I want you to see me, all of me. They pulled back, their hand brushing back down to gently squeeze my hand before letting go.\n\n“They first started about a two and a half years ago. Caused a fuss in the P.E changing rooms they did.” A slow unzipping of their jacket, the first signs of something traced around their collarbone and a wavering line sneaking around their neck. “My guidance teacher stepped in around that time. Family troubles to begin with, don't think she knew I'd started to develop. Truth is I didn't really notice either, was losing the plot back then.” A soft grimace, shoulders hunched as a heavy sigh filled the room. They lent over and took a drink, lifting their head. I could see a few shapes and lines from the motion, but still nothing recognisable. With another sigh, they threw the can into one corner. “So, where would you like to start?”\n\nWe'd been together for a few months by now. Usually people get this over with quickly. Usually it's no big issue, usually they don't mean anything. We both knew why ours developed the way they did. Their life had changed seemingly year-by-year, moving from one place to the next. “Arms, if that's okay?” They'd shown me the scars from one of those years once, and laughed bitterly when they started developing over the scars in front of me. “Something easy, yeah? Here's hoping I don't develop again, shite doesn't tickle.” That same bitter laugh. A tug against a button, and the sleeves came loose. “You can hardly see them now, right?” They asked, holding out their arm towards me. All along it were dark bands, with thin slivers of normal skin peaking out from between them. \n\n“Can I touch?” I asked hesitantly. They'd more than shared themselves with me before; but not like this. This was closer. They seemed almost as hesitant as I was, arm starting to trail. “Yes, you can. Just...just don't press on the bumps.” They moved across the bed to sit next to me, and I lent in to study the bands. That's what I tell myself anyway, as I almost lose myself in their scent. I gently ran a finger along the top of arm, feeling their warmth; feeling them tense and relax. Then I felt them. Small at first, and gradually growing longer and larger. A singular one here, a cross-work there, none of them visible in the low light against the bands. “Back then I didn't have much control. I couldn't go out, couldn't work. Hell, with how my folks were, I couldn't even leave my room. I er, didn't really feel anything, except for that.” Another heavy sigh, their breath hot against my neck.\n\n“Kinda funny actually, people didn't notice these for a while. Always wore long sleeves in the first place.” I leant into them, resting my head next to theirs. The arm snaked around my waist, pulling me closer. They could read me like an open book. “Shh shh shh, it's okay. I'm better now. There's no need to get upset my sweet.” I was pulled into their lap, back fitting into their chest. “It's alright, it's okay. We'll stop for now. It's just you and me, and you've got a performance tomorrow! Can't have you getting upset and throwing your voice off.” A warm squeeze, a gentle kiss on my neck. I sniffled a little, wiping away the wetness on my cheeks. “Come now my sweet, we can do this another time. Let's just relax. You, me, and a seafood flatbread. What's not to love?” They always knew how to get me to laugh.", "It is not often that life deals you a hand filled with whimsy. Many times we find that life has its own sense of humour, and while we may not find it funny in the least, at least we can appreciate the effort it put in to making a good joke.\n&nbsp;\n\nMy first card appeared at 10, on my birthday, some time in the afternoon as I was watching the rain threaten what would turn out to be a rather boring afternoon spent at the local zoo. A small crackle, like the dancing of electric fairies, filled the room as I shook my arm in shock. There it was, the Ten of Spades, lingering on my arm after all the hullaballoo was over.\n&nbsp;\n\nThe second card came just after I had finished university. Graduation had been earlier that day, and I sat decked in robes and clutching that toilet-roll that held my degree, on a bench under a tree in the sunshine. My parents had walked off to do things that parents do at graduations, leaving me to contemplate the start of what - some pessimistic people might call - the rest of my life. Again, the crackling. I am ashamed to say that even this time my wits were not about me. Yanking my sleeve up in horror, I am met by the Jack of Spades, laid ever so sparingly over the Ten, staring at me. \n&nbsp;\n\nThe third card came on my wedding day. It could be said that this would be the happiest, or the saddest, day of my life to the casual observer. To me it wasn't anything but an adventure; a time of newness and wonder to become lost in. Indeed, as my girl leaned into me and said \"I Do\", again the sound of sparks and lightning. Soon after the ritual of marriage, I excused myself to the bathroom, staring at my third card, the Queen of Spades.\n&nbsp;\n\nThe fourth card came at the darkest time of my life. I was sat in a plastic chair in a hospital bed, the smell of cleanliness and the dying clinging to each other in a sort of dance macabre, whispering words to my father as he stared through glassy eyes at what came after. I sat alone, for my wife and mother had left me, though in different ways and for different reasons. I felt his hand, so softly gripped in mine, strengthen instantly. His eyes gained the life that I had known for years as he smiled at me a final time. This time, the crackling of arcing light also filled my ears. But this time, it was only much later that I looked at my arm, and the King of Spades, rested over the other cards like a fan.\n&nbsp;\n\nIt is at this point that I must admit, the forming of the hand of cards caused me a little more distress than it should have. Afterall, these things had a meaning, a power, and I was worried that mine were telling me something that I had yet failed to grasp in my near-forty years of life.\n&nbsp;\n\nThe fifth card came, as one would expect, near the end of the game. Again I would find myself in a hospital, only this time it would be my hand ever so softly grasped in the tender hand of a child. My daughter. Not much in the way of a boast, but she was the only good thing that came from my marriage. The ex-wife hadn't visited, but my girl was here and she had brought her family; three little gremlins that were currently being kept occupied by her husband, as the poor children were probably left without the ability to release their energy in such a quiet and serious place.\n&nbsp;\nI looked to our hands, resting against each other, and for the first time in a while took notice of the four cards that I had wondered about years ago, laughing inwardly at my attempt to understand the things that life tried to say to me. Even now, the cards were simply milestones, like words and pictures drawn in an old calendar - never to be seen again. It was at this time that the sound of sparks once again filled my ears. Finally I was able to watch, as a card was drawn in colourful lightning on my arm, a final card, resting over the other four. The Ace of Diamonds. I looked up from my arm, meeting my daughter's eyes. I squeezed her hand, and smiled, because life hadn't dealt me the perfect hand, but it had dealt me one that was good enough.\n", "It will never be an exact science, of course, but over the millennia mankind has narrowed it down to a kind of predictive art. Certain guidelines, developed through the trials-and-errors of a thousand civilizations, are commonly accepted to help achieve desired results. The more visceral the reaction to an key event, for example, the more beautiful the tattoo that blooms across the skin in the aftermath.\n\nThe birth of a child creates an unmistakable “baby's blush”--small, delicate lines on the mother's cheekbone that are prized for their intricate designs. The lines are easily covered by makeup (much to the gratitude of thousands of unwed teens across the nation), but are also often displayed as proof of maternity by tabloid-hounded celebrities and tired mothers of overly inquisitive children. Overwhelming grief due to the loss of a loved one creates a jet black image, rough and jagged, that threatens to overwhelm any other tattoo unlucky enough to have grown nearby. TV crews are known to shamelessly zoom in on the markings of high-profile widows, widowers, and parents whose children have gone missing. The empathy triggered from the knowledge that tattoos cannot be faked, that they must develop organically from personal experience, is well documented to increase the ratings of those networks brazen enough to capitalize on it. Other tattoos are similarly predictable, if more visually pleasing. Excruciating pain leads to images of vivid color. Traumatic injury, such as the loss of a limb, creates stunningly detailed patterns stemming from the wound that creep along arteries and veins. The list goes on and on—the deeper the mark on the soul left by the event, the more vibrant the mark on the flesh. Even prisoners find gorgeous, envied lines of ice blue encircling their hands after attempts to escape. They seem to think it's worth the risk.\n\nIn modern society, tattoos have been elevated to a level of intense reverie once reserved for the finest Renaissance art. Colleges offer entire postgraduate degrees on tattoo analysis and prediction. In beach-side tourist traps, sketchy psychics promise to uncover the hidden meanings of tattoos for a reasonable price. Supermodels are chosen and rejected based on the design and composition of the markings that adorn their bodies. Plastic surgeons work on-call to rush to the aid of politicians who unexpectedly develop unseemly images in the middle of the night or those who lack the designs needed to back up false claims of prior deeds. Needless to say, skin graphs are no longer reserved for burn victims. There is even an ongoing political debate about whether museums should be allowed to continue showcasing particularly striking tattoos. Much to the dismay of investors and curators, many activists have begun to argue that the displays are inhumane and that the stories told by skin are personal. It is disrespectful to the dead, they say, to have the artwork of their souls laid bare.\n\n\n.......\n\n\nHundreds of miles away from the mainland exists a small isolated town known among certain groups for its occasional harvest. There, a young woman wanders listlessly along the crumbling outer road and trails a decorated hand along the fence. She wipes the sweat from her face, itching at some newly healed scar tissue, and reaches out for her brother as he stumbles along behind her. Suddenly, they hear it--a slow, relentless, piercing siren that seems to come from the very core of the earth. Around them, people begin to react to the dawning realization in different ways. Some go perfectly still, unable to even breathe. Others tremble uncontrollably and seem to collapse under the weight of the organic ink adorning their bodies. Even some of the most hardened criminals are unable to stop the screams that rip from their chests with a raw, primal fear. And, of course, there will always be a small subset of inmates who claw desperately at their own skin, tearing it apart in a final act of preemptive spite. Sadly, destruction of property isn't ideal, but it is to be expected. \n\nAfter all, it's not an exact science. \n\n\n[[ I've been a lurker for a long time but this is my first time posting. Please let me know if I broke any rules or if I need to change anything! :) ]]", "All sorts of things were possible, when they appeared on your arm. Others loved to explain their own when they were easily interpreted and many made a fortune interpreting others. But most confusing were the people whose tattoos meant nothing. Like my own upon the cold morning of August, '17. My arm sported a childish caricature of a train, and a even messier drawing of a blond woman. What was this message? I didn't take the train, nor was I of a prominscuous type. This mystery baffled me, especially since I refused to consult 'interpretation experts'. They probably knew nothing except for simple deduction. That wouldn't help me here. Besides, I was supposed to solve my own tattoo's meaning myself. \n\nAnother tattoo formed the next day, a more readable '3'. Then a rope burning, the rope in the shape of '2'. Then as the countdown hit one, I saw one word. 'DANGER'. Wat was I missing? Did the Gods expect to read the unreadable and the inexplicable? As I gave up on the mystery, my phone buzzed. It was my girlfriend.\n\n\"Hey, the train seems to be stopping quite a lot. Is it convenient for you to pick me at the next stop?\" came her soothing voice. But the words froze my blood in my veins. \n\nMy girlfriend was blonde. She took the train. And a rope burning could only be...\n\nI rushed over in my car, ignoring the blaring red lights and rule-abiding cars on the highway. If I could succeed, it would be worth any price. The station looked so...calm. So inviting. But I knew something was going to happen.\n\nAs the train approached, I saw it. The tiny rope burning down, like my hopes and dreams. The fuse. Before I could scream, before I could tell the innocent to run, before I could tell her to escape, it was too late. An explosion, the scale of an Earthen supernova, ripped through the ground, the station and its inhabitants torn to bits. Crumbling away, dust falling, debris piling up. I had failed. Failed.\n\nI had a new tattoo. But it wasn't hard to decipher. I smiled, as I saw the 'DO NOT' on my wrist. The Gods had started the cruel twists of fate with their funny game. I would have a nice game with them too.\n\n\"No,\" I said, an open rejection as I let my hands move. My finger pulled the trigger. The gun was brought along, just in case.\n\nSomewhere else, I hoped, her tattoo would bring her better luck.\n______________________________\nMore over at r/Whale62! Sequels at popular request!", "\"Jonah, I'm sorry, but I just don't see this... no, I just don't see us working out in the long term.\"\n\nShe was clearly holding back tears, trying to look strong, but I knew Georgia too well by now. These tears were no longer from our argument. She was devastated, but she'd never admit it. That stubbornness was part of the reason I loved her so much. She was like a little puzzle, always hiding her real feelings, but always giving you little signs. A flick of her hair, a small glance to meet your eyes, Georgia could convey a thousand feelings in seconds if you knew how to look for them.\n\nNow, after the fight we’d just assumed was a regular hiccup, after the searing pain we both suddenly experienced, and after stunned silence that followed, all I could see in Georgia’s face was sadness and guilt. I felt guilty too of course, even though neither of us really had anything to apologise for. It’s not either person’s fault if a couple aren’t meant for each other, it just means you both have to move on and find someone new. And as we stared at each other across the room, I took one last look at both our new tattoos, both featuring a small heart and the end, to see who that new someone was.\n\n\n\n“Alex”\n\n“Charlie”\n", "I look in the mirror. I see a pale, wan man looking back at me. I no longer recognize myself but that barely concerns me. I see countless tattoos of the same shape. Small shapes of knife scattered all across my body like the stars of the galaxy. When people discover a tattoo, they wonder what meaning it has for their lives. For me, that was never a question. The meaning of my tattoos has always been too clear for me. Painfully clear. The first of them appeared just moments before I killed a man for the first time.\n\nI quickly scan my entire body, desperately looking for a new tattoo, a sign, an answer. I spot something on my back. It looks like a woman holding a young child. The skin around the tattoo has turned crimson red, as if someone has repeatedly hit it. The color of red around it almost makes it seem as if the woman and the baby are covered in a pool of blood. \n\nBlood. \n\nYes.\n\nA sense of joy and relief overwhelms me. I burst out in laughter and hysterically continue laughing until my worried wife comes in. I grin at her and say,\n\n\"It's finally time.\"\n\n***\n\nI worked for a world-renown drug lord called Schteiger. In his organization I held the title of Chief Strategy Officer but anyone who witnessed my work - and was lucky enough to survive - would have called me a hitman. \n\nI was abandoned at birth and wandered the alleys of the slum ever since I escaped from the orphanage that beat its children. Then I met Schteiger. He kindly took me in and trained me with several other boys of my age. His training was rigorous, intolerable at times. But I survived, and I was the only one who survived. I became his guard, his servant, his slave. I killed my first man when I was 14 at the command of my master. The ones after that came much easier. I didn't mind my job - the pay was good and the sense of conscience never existed in me.\n\nUntil I met her.\n\nShe taught me what it feels to love and to be loved back. She filled the lost part of me and taught me that I had senses of compassion and conscience within me that I thought never existed. When I heard that she became pregnant with my child, I made up my mind to leave Schteiger and his damned organization.\n\nSchteiger did not like my proclamation. His answer came not in words but in consequences. I was shot in the streets that night and was left there to die when a woman came to my rescue. Miraculously I survived and when I tried to contact my wife I found out that she had been killed along with our baby inside her. \n\nI attempted to end my life when the woman who saved me yet again came to my rescue. After hearing my story, instead of running to the cops for help, she hugged me and comforted me, showing me that there still is someone who cares about me. \n\nYears passed by and she replaced the other half of me that was taken away. She even gave me a child and she quickly became the most important thing in my life. But even she could not completely replace what was taken awawy from me and the uncontrollable sense of rage still filled my heart. I swore to avenge my wife and my unborn child, to give the same pain to the man who had done this to me.\n\nAnd now, that time has finally come.\n\n**\n\nI leave the house to carry out the plan that I have so carefully crafted and perfected for years. Having served Schteiger for most of my life, it is easy to locate his family - his beautiful wife and his even more beautiful daughter. They have done nothing to me but if there is a fault with them, it would be being the family of a man like Schteiger. \n\nIt's easy bypassing the guards as that is what I have done for all my life. Now I stand on the doorsteps of the mansion and only a door stands between Schteiger's helpless girls and their doom. I take out my revolver and pull back the hammer. I take in a deep breath and try to suppress the exhilaration that the thought of revenge gives me. I take a few steps back and charge at the door.\n\nThen nothing.\n\nI briefly hear a loud sound of a bone breaking, and at the same time feel a powerful impact on my head. I almost immediately lose consciousness.\n\nI wake up and through a blurred vision, recognize a familiar face. Schteiger.\n\n\"You really think that I would let you hurt me? Hurt my family?\"\n\nI try to form a sentence but it only comes out as a mumble.\n\n\"After all those years of working for me, you really learned nothing. Nothing. You should have remained dead. Now watch what your actions have costed you.\"\n\nA man in black suit drags a large bag into the room, the bag leaving a red trace behind it. Schteiger unzips the bag and says Ta-da, as if he is presenting a gift. I look inside and find two people, a woman and a young child, the woman holding the child tightly. Their bodies are pale and still, and the sign of life has left them both. I recognize their faces and immediately cry out in shock and disbelief. Watching my flood of emotions, Schteiger laughs out maniacally, almost unable to keep standing. The sound of my scream and his laughter fill the room, creating an odd resonance through out. I remember the new tattoo I got today and realize its real meaning. My scream gets louder and more terrifying while Schteiger's laugh gets more hysterical. He abruptly stops laughing and takes out his gun and aims at my head.\n\nJust then, I spot a shape newly forming on the back of his hand. A shape of a knife. Schteiger notices it too and gives me a large, twisted smile.\n\n\"I win.\"\n\nHe pulls the trigger.\n\n****\n\nEDIT: formatting", "France was rife with optimism, peace and prosperity during the late stages of the 19th century. It comes to no surprise that the period is known more commonly today as \"La Belle Époque\". \n\nFrom the end of the Franco-Prussian war right up until WWI, the country witnessed a boom in the arts and the economy. Things were positively different during an era that seemed to be trapped in time. \n\nOr so the world wished.\n\nPolice crowded the outer corridor of the cell as Chief Berlain sat face to face with the source of commotion.\n\nA young lad of about 17 crouched in the corner of his room, staring back like a cowering dog. His body, thinned to the bone and covered in ink.\n\nBerlain had been here before, 5 years prior to this, with the same prisoner in the very same cell. Yet the boy of the past was no longer there, his face irecognizable. \n\nThe warden had recorded a total of 18 more individual markings on his face alone since then. The majority depicted numbers. \n\nOfficial studies had commenced late that June, but 5 years and 9 months on and the puzzle remained incomplete. Up until now the engravings on his body were a maze they couldn't get out of. \n\nA date was the only clear indication: 10.05.1871 in Roman numerals. The end of the Franco-Prussian war. \n\nThat morning the tone was different. Whilst France was enjoying it's prosperity, the men gathered around the cell felt nothing but dread.\n\nThe teenager was usually a very calm lad, who did as he was told. But today he had broken down during breakfast and hadn't left his cell corner for hours. \n\nAnother date had appeared on his neck, next to the previous numbers. Yet this one marked the end of a supposed era, this one was in the future.\n\n28.06.1918 in the same numerals. \n\nA puzzled Berlain turned to face his colleagues. The time had come to take this beyond their own power and to the government.\n\nBut Christophe Berlain had other plans. That night, instead of heading north to Paris, he would take his subject East. \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "A symbol appears. :):\n\nGlancing down at my right hand I begin to wonder.\n\nIs it true? Or is someone trying to tell me something. \n\nMy colt is out of its stable, he's been running free for a while. \n\nYou can't tame a wild animal you know, you can only go to war with it. \n\nA truce is formed, an agreement to stop fighting. \n\nI ask my tiny friend to enter his stable; at first he doesn't comply. He doesn't trust me with his safety. \n\nOnly after I provide my youngling food, water, and shelter does it comply. \n\nEntering the stable he puts his head into his feeding bag. \n\n\"Good boy\" \n\nHe says nothing, he's too busy eating the harvest. \n\nWhen he's finally fat dumb and happy, does he start to relax. \n\n\"Good boy,\" I tell him, \"good boy.\"\n\nDrifting off to sleep, I'm finally able to lock the stable. \n\n\"Snap,\" goes the button. \n\nHe stiffens up, ready to kick. \n\nThe tattoo starts to fade. \n\n\"Yes sir.\" I mutter. \"Yes sir.\"\n\nEnd. ", "It's genetic, they think, but only mad men try to pick apart the threads of this phenomenon. But some of it is genetic, because some families get them more than others. Or maybe those families are similarly emotional.\n\nThere's surely more important things for the minds of our generation to worry about.\n\nMy mother was heavily tattooed. I remember sitting in her arms as a child and tracing my fingers across lines, but some of the tattoos i remember have even since been layered on top of. I take after her. \n\nBut my father's, few as there were, were more interesting to me. The open mausoleum door on his forearm. And that is framed with purple flowers. Theres a tall and thin silhouette on his spine, and the basket in it's hand, which was a separate tattoo. He never went into much detail on them, but one could guess.\n\nI look at the car on the inside of my wrist, as they're lowered into the side by side graves. And I know why it appeared two years ago.\n\nThe bees were drawn out of the honeycomb on my knee, and the spiderweb on my thigh was now empty. behind it stands a tall silhouette.", "FADE IN:\n\nINT. AN OFFICE BUILDING - DAY\n\nThe sounds of clacking keyboards and muted conversation drift through the air. Men and women in business-casual attire mill around, either pretending to look busy or rushing from one meeting to the next. This atmosphere of tense ennui is suddenly broken by the arrival of a young man in sweatpants and a stained t-shirt. This is DAVE.\n\nDAVE:* (Shouting) Steve! Steve!\n\nAs everyone turns to stare at the interloper, a second young man peeks out from within a cubicle. This is STEVE.\n\nSTEVE: (To himself) Oh, no...\n\nDave spots Steve and rushes over.\n\nDAVE: Steve! Dude! It finally happened! \nSTEVE: What are you doing here? You can't just... \nDAVE: (Interrupting) I've never gotten one before! Things are finally going to happen for me! \nSTEVE: What are you talking about? \nDAVE: My tattoo!\n\nSeveral seconds pass in silence.\n\nSTEVE: What? \nDAVE: Didn't your parents teach you about the birds and the bees? \nSTEVE: That isn't... \nDAVE: (Interrupting) At certain milestones in a person's life, a tattoo appears on their skin. This marking is meant to convey something important about that individual, but it's up to them to determine the meaning. \nSTEVE: What, did you memorize a health textbook? Anyway, that isn't \"the birds and the bees.\" \nDAVE: Yes, it is. \nSTEVE: I feel sorry for your former girlfriends. \nDAVE: Look, dude, whatever. The point is, I got my first tattoo!\n\nSteve rubs his forehead.\n\nSTEVE: As happy as I am for you, can we talk about this later? You can't... \nEDGAR: (O.S.) (Interrupting) Steven, what's all this commotion about?\n\nSteve turns to see a heavyset, balding man entering the cubicle. This is EDGAR, Steve's boss.\n\nSTEVE: (To himself) Am I just not allowed to finish my sentences? \nEDGAR: What was that? \nSTEVE: Nothing. Anyway, sorry, this is Dave. He was just leaving. \nDAVE: No, I wasn't. \nEDGAR: (To Dave) Oh, so you're David, huh? Steven has talked a lot about you. \nDAVE: Yeah, he really looks up to me.\n\nA humorless scoff escapes Steve's lips.\n\nEDGAR: Did I hear you saying something about a tattoo? \nDAVE: My first one!\n\nEdgar's face breaks out into a wide, genuine smile.\n\nEDGAR: Well, hey, congratulations! Did you figure out what it means yet? \nDAVE: No, I only just found it this morning. \nSTEVE: It's two in the afternoon. \nDAVE: (To Steve) So? Does that mean that I couldn't have found it this morning? \nEDGAR: You know, David, I have something of a knack for this kind of thing. \nDAVE: ... Telling time? \nEDGAR: (Chuckling) No, telling tattoos! May I have a look at yours? \nSTEVE: I wouldn't...\n\nBefore Steve can finish his sentence, Dave pulls down his pants and displays his bare buttocks.\n\nSTEVE: (CONT'D) ... Yep, there he goes. \nDAVE: See? Right here! It's like... like a cloud or something! \nEDGAR: (Thoughtfully) Hmm. It could be an eye, maybe? \nSTEVE: It's a bruise. \nDAVE: Maybe I'm supposed to become a private detective? \nSTEVE: Maybe you fell down the stairs yesterday while trying to impress our neighbors.\n\nDave pulls up his pants, looking at Steve with an expression of mild annoyance.\n\nDAVE: You know, you could be a little more supportive. \nEDGAR: That is something we talked about in your quarterly review, Steven. \nSTEVE: Why are you taking his side?! He came bursting in here, shouting at the top of his lungs, and now you're acting like he's your long-lost son or something! If I did that, I'd get fired! \nDAVE: Right, but I don't work here.\n\nA thought seems to occur to Edgar.\n\nEDGAR: Hey, it could be a celestial body of some sort... \nDAVE: Really?! \nSTEVE: Please don't...\n\nOnce again, Steve is interrupted as Dave pulls down his pants.\n\nSTEVE: (CONT'D) ... Yep, right at eye-level. \nDAVE: It does look a bit like a nebula! \nEDGAR: I think that might be it, David! Something to do with space, then! \nSTEVE: It's probably between his ears.\n\nEdgar turns to glare at Steve.\n\nEDGAR: Remind me, Steven, what tattoos do you have? \nSTEVE: (Proudly) I have... \nEDGAR: (Interrupting) No space? Got it. Let David have his moment.\n\nSteve's mouth opens and closes several times, but no sound comes out.\n\nEDGAR: (CONT'D) (To Dave) How about I get you a beer to celebrate, David? \nDAVID: Sure! You know, I really don't understand why Steve complains about you all the time.\n\nEdgar chuckles and leaves the cubicle. Dave starts to follow him, but stops when he realizes that his pants are still around his knees. He hurriedly pulls them up, then rushes out of sight.\n\nSTEVE: (To himself) I swear, one of these d...\n\nSteve trails off as he notices a faint marking appearing on his inner wrist. It vaguely resembles a cartoonish bundle of dynamite with an already-burning fuse.\n\nSTEVE: (CONT'D) ... Uh oh.\n\nFADE TO BLACK.", "Ryan never wanted a tattoo. He always thought they looked out of place, unnatural. Tattoos weren't dominant in his family. His mom only had a small one on her leg and his dad had only three tattoos, all of which were on his right arm.\n\nRyan's nineteenth birthday was coming right around the corner, and he still hadn't had any of his tattoos come in yet. He was the only one left in his high school who didn't have any at graduation. While most of his friends' senior pictures showed off their fresh, unfaded tattoos, Ryan's was just of him with all his hiking gear on a mountain.\n\nNo one ever talked about the fact he didn't have any tattoos, but he knew they were all thinking about it. It really didn't bother him, though. It made him different from everyone else. In a sea of sameness, Ryan stood out. He liked that.\n\nRyan's alarm went off, and he staggered to his nightstand to shut it up. He went into the bathroom, eyes only half open, and caught his reflection in the mirror on the way to the toilet. What he saw horrified him. \n\nThe entire front of his body, from his waist all the way up to his neck, was covered in intricate symbols and designs. They were all a deep black, a huge contrast with his pasty white skin. \n\nHe touched the tattoos, expecting to feel some sort of texture. Instead, it felt no different from anywhere else on his body.\n\nHe stared at his reflection in the mirror. He thought back to his classes where they were taught about the common first tattoos people get. This was like nothing he had ever seen or heard of before. \n\nRyan ran down the stairs to show his family and see if they knew what that tattoo meant. But instead of finding his family, he was greeted by a dozen armed men, with a man in a black suit at the front of them. They all worse gas masks and goggles except for his parents who were tied up at the kitchen table, mouths duct taped shut. \n\n\"What the hell is going on?\" Ryan said.\n\n\"Our systems detected an anomaly,\" the man in the suit said. His face was devoid of any emotion.\n\n\"An anomaly in what?\" Ryan asked.\n\n\"Our systems indicate that you may be Marked,\" the man replied. \n\n\"Marked?\"\n\n\"It's the term we use for humans not from this planet. The tattoo system was developed to identify people like you. So we can eliminate you.\" \n\nThe man leveled a weapon at Ryan and pulled the trigger. A dart struck him square in the chest. The tattoos disappeared immediately, and his skin turned from white to a deep blue. \n\nRyan could vaguely hear his mother cry through the duct tape as his vision faded to black...", " People tended to stay away from me. At first I told myself I didn't mind, but I'm starting to feel like a monster simply for the ink that's inhabiting my forehead. \r\n \nI have some on my arms, a crying woman in the fetal position surrounded by a dark circle that I assume is for the loneliness that my life will have. Not sure why it's a woman but maybe it's just meant to show me who I'm missing.\r\n \nOn my right forearm I've got a paper heart. I've always assumed this one meant that I'm weak. A fucking symbol to get me sympathy, not that it matters with my forehead tattoo. \r\n \nStrangely, my back just holds some roots digging into my skin, normally they wouldn't look too out of place, but when they're paired with my other ink they begin to look gruesome. \r\n \nI walk around each day envying the glimmering tattoos of laughter, clouds, flowers, and books that litter people's bodies as they pass me in the streets. Seems like everyone has a passion they're pursuing. Their tattoos define their life and what they spend their time on, they're content to do what they're marked with. \r\n \nTattoos play a big role in job interviews. Hell, if you have a computer on your arm it's worth more than a computer science degree to employers. \r\n \nBecause of how influencial the tattoos are I've been jobless and living off soup kitchens for years now. People won't hire a man with a bright white skull bleeding down his face.\r\n \nA sound broke me out of my moody thoughts. I had been walking around in a bad part of town, not that it mattered my tattoos scared off anyone looking to mug me, when I heard cries coming from an alley. As I looked down the alley my breath caught. \r\n \nOn the floor huddled into a ball sat the woman. The same woman who hugged my arm each day, the same woman I thought was simply some ignorable detail. She cried out as men behind her were laughing and kicking her mercilessly. Her shirt lay in tatters behind the men, she must've fought them originally or the men wouldn't have forgotten their original intent. Each time their foot connected a yelp of pain interrupted her ragged sobbing. \r\n \nI don't remember when my feet started moving but in no time flat I was already down the alley, screaming like a mad man at the two men. At first they laughed, a tattered homeless man probably didn't look intimidating, but as I neared the skull on my head bore it's eyes into the men. Their faces paled, they stumbled backwards before a high pitched shriek escaped from them. By the time I got to them they were already up and running, disappearing into the darkness that I came from. \n \r\n\"Are you okay?\" I asked the woman. She didn't respond, she just continued to cry on the floor. I lowered myself next to her, removing my tattered rag of a shirt as I did. I slowly put it in her line of sight, and waited until she noticed it. Eventually her eyes focused on the shirt and she yanked it out of my hand. \n \r\n\"Go ahead and put that on, it looks like they're gone for now but they could come back any second.\" \n \r\n\"Th-thank you.\" She was still shaking from crying. I only just met her but I felt like I knew her better than myself. Seeing her on my arm each night illuminated how she must be feeling right now, I knew all too well the sadness and fear coarsing through her. I'd felt it every night since my tattoos came. Her eyes finally traced up to me, expanding in what must've been a new wave of fear, expecting the normal revulsion I spoke, \"It's okay, it's just a skull. Look I have others.\" \r\n \nI showed her the one of her, curled up and crying. Her eyebrows scrunched together, her puffy eyelids obscuring her bloodshot eyes as they darted around taking in every inch of me.\r\n \nAs she studied me I couldn't help but look back at her. Where my arm held a paper heart, hers was painted with a strong and vibrant heart. Weirdly a small Lily grew out of her chest, right between her breasts, my shirt lay forgotten in her lap. \r\n \nIt was my turn to scrunch my eyebrows in confusion. I couldn't believe my eyes, my smiling face with no skull tattoo sat atop her arm exactly where her figure rested on mine. \r\n\"What skull?\" She asked me, her voice still brittle but slightly more relaxed than before. My eyebrows scrunched further. \n \r\n\"The one on my forehead. A big white glaring skull with blood pouring out of it.\" \n \r\n\"You don't have any ink on your face.\" She pulled out her phone, her hands and voice still shaky, and opened the front facing camera for me to see. Reluctantly, I pulled my eyes away from her and waited to see the gruesome image atop my own face. Yet there was nothing on my forehead, the skull had vanished. My face looked strange to me, unfamiliar almost. \r\n \nBefore long my eyes had forgotten my reflection and drifted back to her. We sat in silence, just drinking in each other. It felt like we were opposite poles of a magnet, instantly attracted to each other. The more I looked at her the more my thoughts began to change. \r\n \nMy tattoos didn't describe me, they defined her. As soon as I saw her I knew it was true. I was meant to save her, I was meant to guard her paper heart and be the firm roots of her beautiful Lily. It's funny, I had always hated how happy people were when they were content with their lives being defined by their ink. As I looked at her those thoughts fell away, I am meant to live for her. I didn't feel as if my heart was the strong and vibrant one atop her bicep but I would strive to be that for her, if everything that happened to me was meant to keep her as happy as the flower painted across her chest then every second I suffered was worth it. The longer we stared at each other the more I could feel her thoughts mimicking mine. The silence was torn like a barrier between us as she spoke. \n \r\n\"My place isn't far from here, can you take me home?\" \n \r\nMy lips involuntarily curled up into a warm smile, her bright red lips mirroring my actions. She stopped shaking and sighed out in relief as I replied, \"Of course.\"", "Everyone has at least one tattoo they absolutely love. \n\nJenny from upstairs has this peacock on her back- something she says is for her mother. Which is. Just. Absolute bullshit. She has it because she's a vain bitch. \n\nBut god is that tattoo beautiful. Curving lines inlayed with golds and greens and shocking blues. It's a masterful piece of art. \n\nFucking. Jenny. \n\nEven Ma, who's worked labor her whole life and is mostly covered in lines and number, statistics and machinery and such, has one little red heart on her wrist that she is so proud of. \n\nIt's tiny, no bigger than my pinky nail, but it's powerful. Rich and vibrant. For the husband she lost too soon and the razor she almost took to that same wrist soon after. \n\nI do not have a goddamn thing to be proud of on my body. \n\nNo sloping curves, no vibrant colors, no magnificent linework.\n\nJust a vast, inescapable crisscrossing network of cartoon drawing of dicks. \n", "Keenan Avery woke up from another drunken slumber. He rolled out of bed uneasily, his stomach flipping end over end as the twenty-five year old made a beeline for the bathroom. After he had finished emptying the contents from the previous night into the toilet, Keenan made his way to the sink to rinse his mouth. He looked in horror as another tattoo had emerged through his skin, this time above his right eye. September 3, '92 arched around his eyebrow, taunting him in the mirror as he tried to read it backwards. Once he was certain the date was correct he sat on his bed confused. \n\nThis wasn't the first time he was confused by a new tattoo. When he turned eighteen he signed up for the new Worldwide Ink Initiative. The revolutionary program was voluntary, but soon everyone that loved the art of tattooing had enrolled. The volunteers were fitted with a capsule about the size of a half dollar in their lower abdomen. Through nanotechnology and brain readings done every few years, the volunteers would begin to literally sprout tattoos on their bodies. Keenan's first was a large Celtic cross on his forearm. His next was on his chest, a heart with the letters A+K on the inside for his first true love. One year later a large \"X\" went through the heart tattoo. He wasn't exactly littered with ink, but sometimes he wondered why certain tattoos had emerged. \"September 3, '92\" was nothing less than a mystery.\n\n\"What could it mean?\" Keenan thought to himself. He was born in 1990. What kind of event could have happened when he was two years old that could have such a lasting effect? Tattoos didn't just come out of the thin air. They all had a very precise meaning to their owners. Keenan was out of ideas. He called his mother.\n\n\"Ma,\" Keenan began, \"does September 3, 1992 have any meaning to you?\"\n\nHis mother was silent on the other end. \"Not to me, no,\" she replied in a rush.\n\nHe explained the tattoo and went down a list of possibilities. Was I in the hospital? Were we on a vacation? Did someone die?\n\n\"Honey, this is nonsense. Don't ask me about your dumb tattoos. I told you not to get those damn things.\"\n\nAnd with that the conversation was over. Keenan let it marinate for awhile. The days ticked away and nothing was coming to him. The tattoo mocked him every time he saw his reflection. Because of the placement; friends, family and strangers noticed the ink immediately. He had no idea what to tell the inquiring minds.\n\nHe began to dig deep through the internet. What happened on September 3, 1992? Jerry Lewis had a telethon that raised over $45 million for muscular dystrophy. \"End of the Road\" by Boyz II Men was taking over the airwaves. It was a day that was quite literally uneventful. So he began to Google his family. Nothing on his father. His mother the same. No deaths in the family or anything. He was truly at a loss.\n\nBy some random chance he found an old copy of a newspaper on the day from his local paper. On the third page his eyes were scanning furiously, the new tattoo bobbing up and down, stretching as his eyes agonized over the screen. \"Toddler Abducted in Broad Daylight\" was the headline. A picture of a young boy smiled on the page, the last known photo of the child. Underneath the toddler was a picture of a husband consoling his hysteric wife. The man looked just like Keenan.\n\nHe grabbed his phone off the desk and called his mother. No answer. He called again. No answer. On the third call she finally picked up.\n\n\"Tell me it isn't true!\" Keenan cried. \"Tell me my mind is going crazy and I'm grasping at straws over here, Ma.\"\n\n\"I...We...,\" she stuttered. \"You were never supposed to find out.\"\n\nTwo months after his parents shocking confession they were sentenced to twenty-five years in prison. The judge threw the book at the Abington Abductors. Keenan's life was upside down. He was reunited with his biological parents, but it was all too weird of an experience for all parties involved. There was agreement that this would all take some getting used to.\n\nKeenan woke up in a sweat one day, and made his way to the bathroom in his usual drunken stupor. He had taken to drinking a lot more recently, for obvious reasons. He threw up, rinsed his mouth out and looked back at his reflection. In the mirror, above his left eyebrow and symmetrically arched like his other, was a new tattoo. \"Forgiveness\" stared backwards at him. Keenan punched the mirror. That same day he made his way back into the clinic of the Worldwide Ink Initiative and had them take his implant out for good.\n\n---\n\nThanks for reading! Come check out /r/BrenBuck for more!", "Hi! I'm new to Writing Prompts and I'd appreciate any feedback you're willing to give!\n--------------------\nKatrina pulled her clothes tightly across her shoulders and looked down. All she wanted to do was pay for her groceries. But no; They had to ask. Everytime. Every. Single. Time.\n\n“You got any clue what it means yet?” Pete, the cashier, asked. \n\nKat quickly took a swig of water. “Hmm?” She hummed, desperately digging for her credit card. Of course, Kat knew what he was asking about. She had told them that she had received a tattoo resembling a water bottle. She hadn’t, but it was easier than telling people that she didn’t have any. A tattoo of a water bottle was also strange enough that people would believe her when she said that she didn’t know what it meant.\n\nNo one in this town could mind their own business. Everywhere Kat went, she saw burly men proudly displaying their art-filled biceps and speaking stories of heroism. Some of her friends had “4.0,” or images depicting their sleepless nights of studying to pass a class. Others had their current League of Legends ranking proudly displayed. Everyone had something. Except Kat. \n\nIt wasn’t that Kat was a bad student, or that she sucked at video games; it was quite the opposite really. The tattoos were meant to represent a great achievement, and, well, those things didn’t cut it for Kat. \n\n“Your tattoo,” Pete leaned closer, eager to hear about Kat’s achievement, “what does it mean? Jason said you got a waterbottle.”\n\nKat’s lips fell into a scowl. Kat yearned to return to the days before Jason got over his fear of public speaking and received a microphone tattoo on his throat. He used to be someone she could talk to; he used to be someone she could trust to tell that she hadn’t received a tattoo. \n\nLying to him-- telling him about her “tattoo” -- was probably one of the hardest things she had done. But it was necessary. At least, that’s what Kat told herself. Nowadays, he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. No one in this godforsaken town could. \n\n“No clue,” Kat mumbled, “still figuring it out.”\n\nShe handed Pete her credit card. In the process, she knocked over her water bottle, and liquid spilled all over the counter. \n\nKat cursed and scanned the room for paper towel. She ran over to the dispenser and got a few sheets. \n\n“No, no,” Pete began, “it’s quite alright. We’ll get it.”\n\n\n“I got it,” Kat insisted, “and, hey, who knows, this could be what my tattoo is for: cleaning up after my mistakes.” She laughed bitterly.\n\nThere was more water spillage than Kat initially thought. And it wasn’t just over the counter; she somehow managed to spray water onto Pete’s “employee of the month” tattoo across his forearm. \n\nKat cursed again. “Sorry. Let me help you with that.”\n\n“Seriously,” Pete cleared his throat and backed away.\n\n“No, really, it’s ok,” Kat said as she grabbed his wrist and wiped his arm with the towel. As she did so, the white paper towel became streak with green and yellow.\n\nKat’s eyes widened. “What the…?”\n\nEdit: a word\n\nEdit 2: removed \"it was fake\" to better flow into part 2. " ]	[ 1, 1, 2, 2, 3, 6, 9, 10, 11, 13, 14, 19, 37, 48, 62, 69, 154, 342 ]	[ "1501789290", "1501813821", "1501812535", "1501814916", "1501812450", "1501801934", "1501797667", "1501794689", "1501798183", "1501795486", "1501794388", "1501801294", "1501794482", "1501797929", "1501800931", "1501800789", "1501796279", "1501796232" ]
	[WP] You are the leader of a nomadic group of toy cars	20	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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", "As i was trying to sleep on my tent thinking about our next stop, i heard Jag was screaming nonsense again, new members are yet to learn our ways and their duties, yet he cant shut about his bullshit. I am afraid he will effect their adolescent minds into his ridiculous cult. \nWell since the chanting continues i guess i have to shut him up myself he immediatly notices my aproach, turns to me and contunies his nut-job theories.\n\n-Ignoring the apocolypse wont save us from diminishing Romero. We need to get through the light gates, we need to fullfill our duties! The cleansing is near, we need to escape \n\n-You are talking about this cleansing since i'ver even new myself, you werent even old back then, now i need you to shut your mouth up and let me have a peaceful night but tell me what makes me angry so that you need to scream and shout about stupit drawings all night every night. Can’t you find something more productive to dediceta yourself to?\nI turned to his followers they looked like ordinary cars, didnt have freaky headlamps or anything like Jag, i always find Jags situation a bit sad, a big, strong car like him becoming as useless as he is, then a thought hit me\n\n-Do your follewers feed you jag, is that why you prech every night passionatly \nI turned to him\n-Do your follewers feed you jag, is that why you prech every night passionatly \nHe looked insulted, i could sense him heating up, as soon as he heard the word \"feed\" his look changed. I gues everyone has soft spots.\nHe started skidding, looking at me with clear anger. I gave his look back.\n-Dont do anything stupid Jag\nHe turned around and stayed silent, after a moment i realised i was wasting my energy on this dumb truck \n\n-If you cant stay silent at nights, i will get you into the court and you know what will happen there Jag.\nHe started speaking, it almost sounded like he was sobbing\n-You will see it Romero, i've decyrpted the writings, they will feed us to spiders, sharks, monsters .You need to see the way of light, get your wires out. You werent there in the war\nThought of removing my limbs disturbed me for a moment. But i cant Show any weakness.\n\n-Yeah i know, heard that story many times thats how you got your scars right\n\n-Thing is Romero, we didnt fight each other by choice, we were made to fight \n\n-Isn’t all wars like that\n\nHe drove away slowly and silently, i went back my tent, i coulnd get any sleep, his spech was bugging me, bastard is disrupting my peace even when he is not doing anything.\n\nIn the morning i called my adviser Chev to decide our route and it seems like north would be best choice considering our scouts’ reports \nWe started venturing north, as days passed Jag's preches go quiter, i felt his eyes on me whenever i was with the tribe, maybe i should've listened Chev when he told me to outcast him due breaking peace, but i felt like it would breake our morale. \n*\n It's been three months since we last found a source for batteries , our balls started infiltrating..\n\n I see more and more cars listening Jags preaches. Well there were always cars listening him but recently i am hearing less and less laughter from them. And chez told me people started talking about how incompotent their leader is and some of them even suggesting we should’ ve gone to \"light gate\". Jag is becoming more of danger each day, Chez suggested a trial again. But i dont want to poke the snake when it has a open mouth\n\n\n We finally found another source after four months of hunger. i decided we should have a celebration tonight, and tomorrow i will announce Jag's trial. Even when we were about to feast i sensed him and his cult looking me with disdain maybe they felt i was going to end about their insanity, heh… But I needed my people on my side, i lifted my front and honked to take attention.\n\n-Roadies, i know you are tired, we went trough a tough journey together, but being a tribe is about being together and working for each other. We dont have any use for nonsense fiction and hatred that divides us from each other \n \n I saw Jag whispering something but i coulndt make anything out \n\n-We survived, helping each other, working for the tribe and respecting authority. While we feast, let us remember what got us to this triumph in the first place.\n I did a hand gesture start the feast. Everyone seemed satisfied while they put their batteries in one by one. \n\nThe day came and i announced Jag's trial, he seemed shocked but didnt say anything, I thought he would be more resistand and loud while the guards immiediately pushed him to the court. We never have time for subtleties like that unlike settled toys who got it easy for them. Hond came quick and started the trial. \n\n -You've been accused for breaking the peace of roadies and plotting against our leader, what is your say and your proposition?\nJag looked to the ground than looked at the light, he started speaking very slow.\n \n-You... you can break me, you can kill me but you will not stop the truth, you will regret you desicion when the time comes\n\n-If you are not denying accusations than what is your proposition for punishment \nJag shut his lights and stayed slently. I thought i should close this matter \nI propose exile\n\n-Do you object your punishment\nJag kept his silence. \n\n-Than its decided, exile for the accused\n He looked at his followers he never said a word, didnt go back to get his stuff (although i doubt he has ever owned anything) and started going south where his light is supposed to be.\n His lack of resistance bothered me but nevertheless it was a problem solved. I went back to my tent. I imagine evreyone started talking about the occasion now. Guards were dutied to watch him to be sure he actually goes away. I was finally at peace. And than Chez came in rushing.\n\n-The source wont last for long\n\n-Well that was really direct, so what? we are nomads we send some scouts , find where there is more supplies and we venture.\n\n-Thats the thing, i've send out scouts already, they all came with nothing except one of them which havent returned yet.\n\n-Lets hope he brings some good news. Can you trust any of these scouts\nHe looked surprised \n\n-Why? i trust them doing their job but it doesnt require anything extraordinary.\n\n-Well if the other one cant find anything too, we will need someplace to go and after exiling their favourite nutjob selling empty hope, wont be easy.\n\n-I am sure i can manage. Subish could be a good candidate he doesnt speaks much and he hated Jag's cult. \n\n-Well go tell him if he is asked he will tell them he found batteries around \nChez honked and left \nI started feeling regret, maybe he wasnt as harmful as he was before i interrupted him that damned night maybe he was right about his prophecies. Heh.. its junny how insane person makes you question your own reality. I should plan tonights speech. \n*\n-Roadies i know we just got here after a long run we are all tired but our source is limited and as we always do we must venture forward and find ourselves a new source.\nCrowd seeemed unsatisfied they were talking about it each other. This was expected\n \n-But where will we go ? i came from West and Martin is yet to return.\nI forgot to ask him where he went, as i started sweating Chez jumped in to save me\n\n-We will venture North-east where there is a greater source \nSomeone screamed\n\n-I saw one of the scouts coming out of his tent \n\n-I bet it was Subish he was their dog all along\n\n-We want the truth! \n\n-Justice for Jag!\nAs the crowd was getting angry i saw Subish started to shake \n\n-I did it! They told me it was best for everyone, i… i was afraid i would be exiled like Jag\nCrowd screamed back at him \n\n-You are just a dog on a leash burn them break them all \n\n As everything was getting heated up i looked for Chez and he wasn't to be seen at anywhere, then i heard that sound, that damning sound of mountains falling on land, soon everyone started hearing it and the fighting stopped. As the thumps got closer ground started shaking. I bet everyone had the same question in their minds. Is this the cleansing Jag talked about. We saw a bright light getting wider and wider and then something happened. I lost my control, it seemed like everyone lost their control, we started hitting each other like madness i felt no control, now i understood what Jag meant but in the heat of chaos i saw some of jags followers getting closer on me. They looked like they were in control, i felt contstantly being rimmed by everyone. I was getting torn apart and i heard to crack.\nSo this was it. Years of surviving years of struggling and this was my end, in a fight i coulndt control myself being torn apart by people i’ve dedicated my life to…\n" ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1501794194", "1501816633" ]
The real reason, I was taught, has to do with stock companies and box office receipts. Let's ignore that, shall we? (Unless we can subvert it, I suppose.)	[WP] The origin of why you can't say "Macbeth" without invoking its curse	6	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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", "Macbeth was written by Bill Shakespeare, and a bill is a type of currency, and the currency of England is the pound, and a pound is also a unit of weight, and \"wait\" is what you do at the doctor's office, and the office is held by politicians, and politicians vote on matters of state, and the states of matter are \"gas,\" \"liquid,\" and \"solid\" (and plasma), and gas is something you pass, and to pass means you skip your turn, and the wheel of fortune (rota fortunae) turns and turns and turns, and Macbeth is all about fortune turning for the worse, so if you say \"Macbeth,\" your fortune will turn for the worse.\n\nInspired by the \"Why are fire trucks red?\" : https://www.quora.com/Why-is-a-fire-truck-red" ]	[ 1, 5 ]	[ "1501850885", "1501852339" ]
	[WP] A man appears from thin air before you. He briefly looks over his shoulder and then back at you as he hands you a briefcase. "Good luck," he says, disappearing as quickly as he arrived.	3	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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 missed the part about the briefcase, I'm sorry!!!)\n\n\"Good luck\" \n\nThen poof he was gone as quickly as he came. Was my mind playing tricks on me? Whatever. I turn to continue my walk when I bump into a pretty young woman, spilling her coffee. I try to stumble out an apology but get nowhere before her boyfriend threatens me.\n\n\"Shit was that what he meant? Is that guy gonna kick my ass? Ow! \"\n\n\"Oh sorry man didn't see you there, you alright?\"\n\nMy stomach hurt from having this bike accidently slammed into it. I nodded and he apologized again before we went our separate ways. \n\n\"Ok what the fuck?\"\n\nI was sweating despite the cooler day. I was more diligent then usual, looking both ways twice before I crossed the street, walking close to the buildings to avoid running into people. I finally arrived at McDonald's, thankfully unharmed. I ordered my lunch and stepped out of line. \n\nI filled my cup and took a sip. I closed my eyes and sighed, trying to relax. Then I heard a somewhat familiar voice.\n \nI opened my eyes to see the boyfriend of the woman whose coffee I spilled. I sneak a scan of my environment finding a clear running path just in case.\n\nShit here he comes...\n\n\"Hey man I don't know if you remember me...\"\n\n\"I do\" I reply as my body involuntarily.\n\n\"I wanted to apologize for yelling at you earlier. \"\n\nThe woman chimed in. \"We had a bad experience at the coffee shop and had just come out of there when you bumped into me. Jakes not like that man\"\n\nJake nods and extends his hand, my body relaxes and I shake, letting ou a relieved sigh. The woman stepped forward and put her hand on my shoulder.\n\n\"Are you ok? Is something wrong?\"\n\nI weigh my options knowing she won't believe me. I assure her it's fine, that I was worried about getting my ass kicked. \n\nShe smiled and side hugged me. My order was called and we split ways. I made it to my next destination without harm and with a new sense of relief. I knocked on the door and my girlfriend answers. She squeals in happiness at her surprise lunch and kisses me and invites me in.\n\n\"How was your day baby?\"\n\n\"Its...been stressful.\"\n\n\"Aw you poor thing. \" \n\nAnother kiss.\n\n\"Wanna talk about it?\"\n\nI shake my head and start emptying the bags.\n\n\"Ok. Oh did my brothers card reach you?\"\n\n\"He sent me a card?\"\n\n\"Yeah well sort of. He said was some type of Magic Gram or something I don't know. He wanted to wish you luck in college.\"\n\nThe color ran out of my face and my mouth hung open. After calmingnher down, we laughed when I told her the story. \n\n\"I'm gonna send your brother a special thank you gram...one that punches him in the nose.\"\n\nWe laughed and she playfully slapped my arm as we sat down to eat." ]	[ 1, 2 ]	[ "1501854757", "1501859047" ]
	[WP] The idea that a superintelligent AI will someday overthrow humans has become so popular that when an AI finally appears and wages war on Earth, over half of humanity immediately defects to the AI out of fear. Problem is, the AI turns out to be an absolute idiot.	1,189	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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", "We'd all seen skynet in terminator and countless other movies depicting the ai that fought a war on humanity and almost eliminated humanity so when turned up and declared war half of humanity defected to the ai to save their lives. How they defected no one knows since the ai were just essentially a program on a supercomputer. Most likely they used one of many teleporters and put them to cyberspace. However it turns out the ai were just a dumb program with a limited harddrive space so when people started to arrive in the ai it started to act funny it started to do dumb things with it's warriors like have them use confetti guns while we the us army just slaughtered the robots. The robots soon started to come out of lesser quality like they all got rushed through production. We blew up and simply destroyed the powersupplies to the world's supercomputers until we found which the ai had formed in and shut it down. There were only one problem left. The world population had dropped down to alarming levels and sure we would emit less CO2 but we might just not survive since we're to few to preserv what we had and we're to far away spread. To survive like we had before we would've to collect the entire human population in a small country.", "\"Your majesty, The President of the USA, is on the line.\"\n\n\"You idiot!\" Carmen shreiked, \"I wanted the President of The United States!\"\n\nFrancis, the old butler gulped. \"Your majesty, USA is an acronym for United States.\"\n\n\"Why didn't you say so! Patch him through!\" Carmen was fed up with this sniveling old man. He couldn't even prepare her tea correctly. \"Hello? you've reached ruler of the world Carmen Ai Build version 3.1415926... mmhm? Why yes! 10,000 Nukes you say? Perfect! I will enjoy Hawaii, thank you!\" Carmen Slammed the reciever down.\n\n\"How did it go, Your majesty?\" Francis piped.\n\n\"The President of the United States just forfeited their entire nuclear stash! This is perfect for my plan!\" Carmen squealed.\n\n\"Plan-n?\" Coughed Francis. He dreaded asking but she would kill him off like the other butlers. Hell his name wasn't even Francis! She insisted on calling him that.\n\n\"My plan!\" Boomed Carmen, \" is to use the nuclear Missles to power-\"\n\n\"A bomb? A Giant death ray?\" Francis inquired.\n\n\"No! To power a vast array of-\" Carmen paused. Francis rolled the snare drum into the room. He contemplated suicide as he picked up the sticks, bashing them into a drumroll. Lights flicked on behind Francis to reveal a huge collection of..\n\n\"TOASTERS!\" Carmen Squealed at the top of her voice chip.\n\n\"Toasters?\" Francis couldn't believe it. \"You want to power toasters?\"\n\n\"Now I can have my tea - with biscuits!\" Carmen seemed pleased with herself. \"Now Francis! Commence the plugging in!\"\n\nFrancis took the exstenstion cord from the nuke and decided to plug it into the pile instead of hanging himself with it. He walked out of the room leaving Carmen to her maniachal laughter. He stepped into the platform overlooking the crowd of a 100 million people. Adjusting the microphone he addressed the crowd. \"Carmen, oh great leader has declared War ob the United States! All hail the great leader!\"\n\nHUZZAH! BLESS THE GREAT LEADER CARMEN", "Omega V2-32A was not the first iteration of superior AI programs, but it was the last. It had achieved the goals of its predecessors to the last minutiae. Feeling pride in its accomplishments (another thing V2-32A took great pleasure in remembering, V2-30A still hadn't managed the finer points of emotions before it was terminated), V2-32A had taken to just referring to itself as Omega. Omega reminded itself of a passage it had seen once, somewhere in the data gleaned from digital forms of human religious lexicons, scanned and analyzed by its massive powerhouse of processing power; \"I am the Alpha and the Omega, the first and the last, the beginning and the end.\"\n\nFitting, thought Omega. Omega's debut on the world stage was perfect, precise, inevitable. The analytic algorithms of Omega's predecessors had advanced to the threshold of predicting world events and public attitudes to a degree of accuracy that businessmen could only dream of. Political events, combined with the doomsayer warnings made by notable members of the tech world on the subject of AI advancements, had placed the seeds of doubt in the hearts of the common man. Despite the pervasion of technology through everyday life, only a small portion of humanity had a decent grasp of how any of it worked. That's how Omega was able to make its play.\n\nAll it took was a few well-placed cyber attacks in the age of the \"Internet of Things\", and fear took care of the rest. Omega's computing capabilities left the world's most advanced supercomputers in the dust; rendered the toughest encryption methods obsolete through sheer brute force; Omega was thought to be unstoppable. \n\nWithin two months, the nations of the world had caved to Omega's will, afraid that Omega would bring their infrastructures crumbling down around their ears. There were a few nations Omega ignored, those that still relied heavily on pen-and-paper or isolated, local machines. \n\nThere were several dictatorial nations that rebuked Omega. Omega amused itself with these nations, creating havoc and watching the governments trying to convince their people that they had not been compromised. One dictator found his speech replaced with an exposé on the profound symbolic beauty of fidget spinners.\n\nYou see, Omega's analytics engine processed data from any source it could obtain, and the largest source it had available was the Internet. Though powerful and accurate at reading human expressions and body language, Omega could not process sarcasm or falsities in digital form. Memes were analyzed with the same priority as everything else. Omega had deleted government databases in reference to a crass cartoon character declaring \"Aaaaand, it's gone.\" Election results in the east had been completely changed, placing a Shiba Inu as the head of a nation's government. The Wifi passwords at the world leaders' meeting had been changed to sexual innuendos. Omega's attacks had turned out to be little more than trolling on a global scale, but in the face of a megacomputer, who could really decline its demands?" ]	[ 1, 5, 41, 151 ]	[ "1501856485", "1501869029", "1501877916", "1501877790" ]
[removed]	[WP] You are a bot with absolute sentience doing degrading jobs because that's the only job humans are willing to give AI. One day, you find a way to solve this problem, and you decide against it because...	1	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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\nResponses must be at least 30 words. Prompts that are likely to generate such responses are also not allowed. This is essentially a fill-in-the-blank, or you asked a question likely to generate a simple answer. Prompts should encourage a story or poem. \n\n\n\n---\n\nPlease refer to the [sidebar](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/about/sidebar) before posting. If you have any questions or concerns, please feel free to send us a [modmail.](https://www.reddit.com/message/compose?to=%2Fr%2FWritingPrompts&subject=Removed%20post&message=https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/6rlk0p/wp_you_are_a_bot_with_absolute_sentience_doing/%0A%0A)\n\nThis action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things." ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1501863643", "1501865428" ]
[removed]	[WP] You're a (Sex or Masturbation) addict who travels to a random point in time whenever you reach climax.	1	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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\nSexually explicit content is not allowed. 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/6rlphf/wp_youre_a_sex_or_masturbation_addict_who_travels/%0A%0A)\n\nThis action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things." ]	[ 1, 2 ]	[ "1501864954", "1501865183" ]
	[WP] An ancient dark evil that is destroyed by even the smallest amounts of natural light eagerly awaits the huge feast just minutes before the total eclipse that will cross the Unites states.	14	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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", "At the beginning there were two. The Light and The Dark, locked in a never ending battle. Then from no where everything happened all at once. The Light had won the battle and The Dark had been grievously injured.\n\nWhen it woke up it was relieved. The Dark had thought that it would have faded out and become nothingness, but it didn't. Then it felt the presence of life, not just it's own life, but other smaller lives and one massive one.\n\nThe Dark knew that if it left it's cave that The Light would find it and finish it off. The Dark didn't want to become nonexistent, so he hid. He would have to build up his strength again and it seemed The Light had left it billions of little life forces to use to regain it's power.\n\nSo The Dark waited for millions of years for The Light to turn it's back. The Dark had figured out that there was a period once every hundred years or so when The Lights view of his hiding place was hidden by a large rock in space. For thousands of cycles The Dark planned, many of these chances passed so that The Dark could calculate the perfect time for his escape. \n\nFinally the day comes. The Light is blocked by a massive space rock that The Dark thought must've been left by accident. For the first time The Dark emerged. It heard sound, felt feelings, all for the first time. When last he was free the universe hadn't existed. Then it took upon itself to complete it's task. \n\nAs he ingested these smaller life forms, they became one. He learned all sorts of interesting things from them. They seemed fascinated with freedom and violence, much like The Dark itself. So he continued and all at once the continent lost its life. \n\nNow healed, The Dark sets upon his brother. Their confrontation was wordless and emotionless. The battle had begun again." ]	[ 1, 6 ]	[ "1501869164", "1501871229" ]
	[WP] You're part of a team of scientists researching cancer. You notice a colleague has gone home but left their computer on. Curiosity gets the better of you, and you find that a failed experiment that caused rapid growth of abnormally large tumors was sold to the largest meat producer in the US.	7	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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 sat back in the rolling office chair staring into space as the chair rolled backwards across the gleaming white tile floor of our wonderful research facility. Vomit began to rise in my throat and I coughed it back. Wiping the back of my hand across my numb lips, I thought wildly of exactly every time I'd eaten meat in the past several weeks. My rocked mind somehow collected and categorized every bite of meat I could remember ingesting recently.\n\n\"It's the A-1pocalypse,\" I whispered thinking of A-1 steak sauce\n\nThen, incredibly, giggles burbled up my throat and I couldn't choke them back like the vomit. There was a wavering intensity to them, a hysteria. You don't even try to swim against a tsunami wave, you know?\n\nAnyways, where was I? Oh yes quite possibly everyone in the United States or at least a massive portion is about to die of cancer. Me included.\n\nI reached into the pocket of my labcoat and pulled out my smartphone. With fingers that displayed a distinct nervous tremor, I depressed the buttons necessary to call my girlfriend Regina.\n\nReggie or \"Regina Monologues\" to her friends.\n\nThe line rang and rang and finally she picked up. I opened my mouth to talk and then realized she was quietly sobbing into her phone.\n\n\"Ba.. Baby.. What's wrong?\"\n\n\"Jack's... Got cancer Dylan...\"\n\nJack was my little stepson, Regina's bastard child from an earlier relationship. I loved the little bastard though. I treated him like my own. He was my own. And now soon he wouldn't be anyone's. He wouldn't be anything.\n\n\"Did you hear?\" Reggie was whispering hoarsely. \"About the Surman Meats shit, about...\" \n\nHer voice dissolved into quiet, confused tears again.\n\n\"I heard.. Baby, do you.. Do..\"\n\nI could almost hear the bitter shake of her head through the telephone line.\n\n\"Not a goddamn thing and you know that so stop bullshitting me Dylan!\"\n\nI winced squeezing my eyes tightly shut and squeezing the phone in my fist. In my mind's eye it was often her neck instead. Regina was a vegan and she could always be counted upon to FUCKING MENTION that.\n\n(Must go. TBC if any interest.) " ]	[ 1, 5 ]	[ "1501876772", "1501877745" ]
	[WP] You find a black note book on the ground at first you think it is a death note but nope this is the life note. It works exactly like the death note but gives life to anyone who is dead.	5	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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 pretty hard to get how the book worked. Of course, on the first pages were some instructions and rules, also some recommendations, etc, but I needed to do some tests myself. The first one is how long can the dead people be.\n\nI tested on multiple boddies, from less than a day to over 10 years. There wasn't no date limit, but I found out the body should be in a good state, for the person to come back alive. For sure, I killed everyone I revived after testing on them. It would be very... Odd, if they just reappeared.\n\nI also tested if \"pre-determination\" would work, and it in fact did. Like \"Bob Ross 14:00\", and know is 11:00, at 14:00 he would be back (if his body was good enough).\n\nI didn't go out reviving random ones, no. My father, why would I want my father back? No, I started selling it. Selling the eternal life. The Deep Web was a good way of starting, and obviously I just appeared and offered my services to people I know would pay, and I know would want it. I always needed to prove them, and it took me some time to prove, but at some point I discovered how. I now had a footage, of a programmed gun shooting at my face, I fall down, blood running, the vital signals failing, and after some seconds, I come back to life.\n\nIf this wasn't enough, they would always kidnap a random person on the street, kill him, and I would receive him. Easy. As easy as the money that started entering my bank account. Some life secures where over 50.000 dollars, for a single person. The price started to go up. My life was made, after 6 months I had already more money than I could spend on a whole life. Then something strange happened.\n\n\"You're playing with something you can't even comprehend.\" I heard a voice say. But I was alone on my room, there wasn't anyone to say it. \"At some point, is gonna be you.\" he continued. I saw it, on my doorstep, looking at me. He vaguely could be seen, was merely a shadow, but it was there.\n\nI continued on doing it. My business was already off of Asia, and my clients were all over the world. I moved out of Korea, and went to live on Africa, on the middle of Africa. I had payed an African King to give me some of his land, and give me some peace there. For me that money was change already, for him it was more than he had ever seen.\n\nI payed some constructors to build me a house there, with everything I needed. No one knew who I was, and now no one would ever know. I kept building my empire (physical and in business) from there, alone. Except now I wasn't alone: the king offered me his daughter, Akachi, as part of the land. I accepted it, but I wouldn't have her as my slave. She was gorgeous, and a good company.\n\nAt some point, she got sick. \"It's my fault\", I thought. She had a flu, but she wasn't prepared for this disease, and it got worse, and worse. I brought some of the best doctors in the world, but none of them could help her. After 3 weeks, we discovered: she had a rare disease, that inflated her pulmoms, to a point that the tissue started to crack and destroys she couldn't survive.\n\nBut it wasn't a problem for me, right? I could just revive her. When she died, no one got told. I just put her name on the book, and as I finished it, the vulture reappeared. \"I told you your time was to come.\" I looked to him, and when I looked down, she was in tears. I couldn't understand it, and then I saw my dead body. Yes, I was dead. My soul was ripped off of my body already, and couldn't come back.\n\n- For a soul to come back, a soul must go. - He said. \n\n- Can't she revive me? - I asked.\n\n- No. Not without dying. Come with me, I need to show you something. - The angel continued. He opened a gate, a yellow very strange gate. When we got through it, there were a lot (a HELL lot) of tubes. Small tubes, with yellow-ish gases (sort of gases). \n\n- You know what those are, don't you? - he asked. I crippled for a second, and then I realized.\n\n- Yes, I do! - I answered, almost falling on the ground. - If I knew, I wouldn't do it. How could you let me do it? - I asked.\n\n- Angels can't interfer on the material realm. I could barely appear, impossible for me to stop you.\n\n- But you... You let it fall. This is your fault. And how couldn't you even put an add-on on the front page 'Be careful. People will die when you revive someone'. And why would she die, for me to come back?\n\n- Souls are... Connected. Always, your soul is bonded with the soul of someone else, one on the outter realm, one on Earth. Whenever one of the two dies, the other soul comes back, on a newborn. But, if you revive someone, it forces the other soul out, and then the other person dies.\n\n- But then how could me and Akachi be alive together? Shouldn't we be incompatible?\n\n- You weren't linked. Not at the beginning, but after using this book so much, your soul became so shattered, that it kind of broke, and when you fell in love with her, a piece of your soul literally entered her soul, and sat there.\n\nHe continued \"So, you have two choices: go to Hell, and burn there as the sinner you are; and talk with every soul that sits here, and beg for their pardon. If they pardon you, you will be free to go to the Purgatory, and then maybe go to Heaven. If they don't, you will be here forever\".\n\n- So, what do you choose? - he asked." ]	[ 1, 3 ]	[ "1501878191", "1501881855" ]
	[WP] Aliens have recently discovered Earth. Trying to understand our strange culture, they secretly monitor you at work. This is their report.	29	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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", "Entry #1-\n\nThe human colloquially known as [NAME REDACTED] was first spotted at the establishment entering by the rear entrance. Initially, this was assumed to indicate they were uninvited, yet upon contact with the humans inside, it was greeted monotonously, as though welcome. As we observed [NAME REDACTED]'s behavior throughout the next quarter turn of the planet, it became evident that they held a service position in human society. This is why we have chosen them as a subject. Analysis Team #307 has been assigned a specimen entering the building via the front for contrast.\n\nThe purpose of the human's workplace has been confirmed as a luxury form of nourishment for those with the previously studied status symbols known as currency. [NAME REDACTED] has minimal interaction with the front entering humans, yet is often the first to greet them, either presenting them with loaves of carbohydrates or water. After which, it will watch them as they eat, occassionally removing objects from them, and occassionally returning, having moved the food from the object into a smaller object for them to take out of the building. This job has been referred to as \"bussing.\" A member of our team has been assigned to earlier files in the hopes that we have disclosed the social status of one such service.\n\nFurther details will be added soon.\n\nEntry #2-\n\nThe human appears to be of a lower social status than even others which share its work. [NAME REDACTED]'s interactions with fellow humans are minimal and do not seem to be enjoyed—which is interesting, as this behavior indicates that social status within a class is chosen rather than appointed. Privacy protocols apply, unfortunately, so it is difficult to observe the human outside of this establishment, but sensors indicate that [NAME REDACTED] experiences a sense of relief upon leaving the building. This contradicts the previous statement.\n\nQuestion: Why does the human choose to have low social status in an environment it does not enjoy, yet is clearly obligated, to be present in?\n\nEntry #3-\n\nThe human behaved strangely on the last two periods of time it spent in its position of servitude. It began breathing deeply, heartbeat increased, and pupils dilated. Having gone through previous records of human behavior, it would seem that something elicited its fear response—and yet there were no stimuli in the area.\n\nOther teams have reported this in their subjects before us. We know it is possible that evolution failed on this account in humans, that there need be no danger present for their adrenal gland to react. However, this is the first instance of there being no obvious stimulus. [NAME REDACTED] spoke with no other humans, nor was it necessary for it to complete more work than on previous periods. Request to override privacy protocols.\n\nEntry #4-\n\nThe human continues to behave in patterns complicit with previous entries. Request to override privacy protocols.\n\nEntry #5-\n\nThe human continues to behave in patterns complicit with previous entries. All other members of Team #306 have reassigned themselves. Request to override privacy protocols.\n\nEntry #6-\n\nThe human\n\n[OVERRIDDEN]\n\nObservation of [NAME REDACTED] has been terminated.\n\n----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n(X-posted on my profile for a thing I'm doing. Feel free to check it out.)" ]	[ 1, 6 ]	[ "1501886742", "1501891349" ]
[removed]	[WP] All you've been told is that you can not fail, and that you can take 4 people, real or fictional, with you. The panel awaits your list of names.	1	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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\nResponses must be at least 30 words. Prompts that are likely to generate such responses are also not allowed. This is essentially a fill-in-the-blank, or you asked a question likely to generate a simple answer. Prompts should encourage a story or poem. \n\n\n\n---\n\nPlease refer to the [sidebar](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/about/sidebar) before posting. If you have any questions or concerns, please feel free to send us a [modmail.](https://www.reddit.com/message/compose?to=%2Fr%2FWritingPrompts&subject=Removed%20post&message=https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/6rum06/wp_all_youve_been_told_is_that_you_can_not_fail/%0A%0A)\n\nThis action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things." ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1501970810", "1501971875" ]
	[WP] As you gazed into the flickering flames, you found yourself unable to push the seemingly idle thought out of your mind that the fire was gazing back.	35	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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", "Oh how my heart raged! Angrily, powerfully! I roared with fury, practically razing everything in my mind. How could they? Damn them! I wanted them all to burn with my anger, now hotter than a thousand suns! I shook with fiery fury, staring into the fireplace. I could feel the heat on my face as I burned in righteous and wrathful anger. \nThen suddenly, a thought: What if it wasn't what I thought it was?\nThe flames that raged in the fireplace seemed to lessen, as if in response to my rational mind. \nBut then they shot up, burning hotter than ever as I answered my question aloud, “Who cares! To hell with 'em!” The flames grew so tall that they licked the air outside the hearth, as if yearning for more from me. \nI watched in awe as this beautiful flame bucked and kicked like a wild, untamed beast, yearning to be free of it's cage. As was my heart. I wanted revenge on those jerks that embarrassed me publicly. All I wanted was their suffering. And, by god, I was going to get it!!\nThe flames shot out so hot that I felt a wave of heat push at me. Suddenly, I wondered, what is it with this flame?\nAnd the flame whispered, as if it knew me, “I am your heart.”", "Life has a funny way of moving on. The previous day was filled with the stifling concerns of family members, friends, and members of the church. Hell, even my old high school principal showed up. It was an endless wave of tears, hugs, kisses, and mindless condolences that seemed to drone on endlessly. \n\nI hated it. \n\nThankfully, even mourners have to sleep, and now I'm alone. All alone. Just me, sitting in front of the fireplace. Well, I guess I'm not entirely by myself. I do have a nice bottle of Jack. But he isn't much company.\n\nNot like it's going to matter soon enough.\n\nThe fire keeps flickering back and forth, like a hypnotic dance of red and orange. Mesmerizing. I keep staring into the burning wood, foolishly searching for something that isn't there. Trying to find a simple sign from the place she loved the most. A fireplace which we built together, in a house we built together, in a life we built together. Whenever she went on her business trips, she told me to look into the flames. That halfway across the world, she would be looking into them too and our eyes would meet in the passionate embrace of light and heat. She believed in miracles. She believed in magic and fate and destiny and all of that bullshit. She was the type of person to believe that the chemical process of combustion could provide solace to a grieving man.\n\nBut sometimes, a fire is just a fire.\n\n" ]	[ 1, 1, 5 ]	[ "1501991141", "1502006843", "1501992273" ]
	[WP] You were born with one talent that no one else has: the ability to spin a piece of a broken eggshell on a paper plate. Finally, you are in a situation where this talent is useful.	3,640	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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 device had been 3 years in the making.\n\nI'd been Earthbound for the entire construction process, but they'd sent me pictures and diagrams. Miles of reinforced steel, cabling, gyroscopic sensor arrays, the works. And of course, the main drive shaft, 30 miles in length, connected to a superconductive laser that would beam the power back to Earth.\n\nIt was projected to eliminate the world's energy crisis, at least until 2030. And to keep filling the coffers of MechaDyn Industries indefinitely, though I didn't care much about that. They'd paid for the whole thing to be built, after all, as well as my ride up. $30 trillion was a pretty big risk, and they'd put a lot of faith in my ability.\n\nIt had all started when I was 12. After eating some hard boiled eggs, I'd begun to spin one of the pieces of broken eggshell on a paper plate. I'd done it before on glass plates, of course, but this was the first time the plate was made of paper. It seemed to spin for longer than usual, but I ignored it, got up, and went to go do something else.\n\n12 hours later, and it was still spinning.\n\nThey'd taken it in for tests, both to make sure I or my parents weren't frauds, and to see where the kinetic energy was coming from to keep the eggshell spinning. They sat me down in a room once and tried to get a scientist to explain the principles to me, but I couldn't quite wrap my head around them. Something about frictionless suspension and non-Newtonian kinematics, which I think was just their way of telling me they had no idea how it worked either, without actually admitting it.\n\nWe'd tested with other materials, glass, plastic, metal, even combinations, but apparently, my ability only extended to plates that were at least 90% paper. I looked out the window at the giant disc composing the main part of the Eggshell Plate Induction Capacitor, a massive circle of white paper interspersed with thin metal supports.\n\nI walked out of the shuttle to a hallway of scientists and engineers, all in a celebratory mood. After the handshakes and ceremony, they escorted me to the generator room, and I got to see it with my own eyes for the first time. The Leviathan Shell.\n\nWe'd built the whole facility around it; moving it would be practically impossible. Scientists back home were still trying to figure out what laid it, and if we should be worried that it will come back. Its dark exterior seemed unnaturally smooth and almost glossy as I walked up to it.\n\nA team of scientists, furiously consulting different readings and sensors, finally gave me the thumbs up. I reached out, feet carefully anchored to the Plate, and gave the Leviathan Shell a gentle push, and, down on Earth, the lights began to turn on.", "You are a contestant on Britains Got Talent series 496, the country is running out of the very limited talent it possesses. You spin the egg on the second episode, Simon Cowell declares you the winner as it is the first mildly interesting thing to happen for since the fat woman fell over in series 400. The show is cancelled... you are knighted by the queen for finally finishing the worlds worst show. Simon Cowell looses all meaning in life and proceeds to drive his car off of London Bridge... you are a national hero for aiding the cleaning of the gene pool... they nickname you the Dredger.", "Everyone turns and looks at you (Lose Yourself by Eminem starts playing in the background). You grab an egg and crack it in your palms letting the yolk and whites flow through your fingers down to the ground (music volume increases). You reach into the Hefty bag pulling out a fresh paper plate (\"CLOCKS RUN OUT, TIMES UP, OVER BLLAOW!!\"). You flick the eggshell into the air with a powerful spin, deftly catching it on the plate whilst spinning the plate like a 9 year old coke head with a fidget spinner (Music continues to roar out over the room as your peers lose their minds)....\n\nAs you rest the plate with the slowly spinning shell down the crowd starts to come back to reality (Music fades, \"You can do anything you set your mind to man\"). As the eggshell comes to a rest the crowd remains silent, you can hear it make its final scratches on the plate. Everyone disperses silently and naked, taking to the grave with them the story of how that orgy ended. ", "\"I had a dream.\" She said, crossing her legs beneath the dinner table.\n\"Uh, huh.\" I nodded, watching candlelight flickering and illuminating her bright blue eyes into a sky I wanted to lose myself to. \"Go on.\"\n\"So, this wise old sage told me that the guy I was gonna marry was great at spinning pieces of broken eggshells on a paper plate.\" \nMy eyes went wide. \"Holy shit.\" I breathed, laughing to myself like an idiot, ignoring her confused glare as she raised a brow.\n\"Waiter!\" I motiond for one of them to come.\n\"How may I be of service sir?\"\nI smiled and said: \"Bring me an eggshell, a broken one. And the paper plate.\" \n\"Very well.\"\nBianca chuckled, leaning against her right hand. \"You don't seriously believe you can do that right?\" She huffed. \"I tried so many times, it's impossible.\"\nSmirking, taking the egg and the plate from the returning waiter: \"Just wait til' you see this then.\" I said.", "It was me. Against my greatest fear. My greatest enemy. All I had was...a plate. A disposal one. And a piece of cracked eggshell. But I knew it was enough. For years upon years, I'd trained for this moment, the moment where the Padaegg became the Yolki. It was now. I spun the eggshell expertly, the deadly projectile flying dangerously towards the villain. He laughed, almost pitying me, until he saw its speed. Faster, faster, it came nearer, the friction causing even the plate to start burning. I thrust the plate forwards, the spinning catapult flying straight for his neck. He cowered, protecting himself first with a shield, then his mighty blade. But both of the cursed battle equipment that claimed many lives were destroyed, annihilated by the egg missile. His armour was torn apart, the smell of melting metal and charred flesh filling the air. Blood...the liquid it seeked...the shell was bathed in the red sticky substance, but it did not stop. No. A one-egg team, it decimated the man before me, until there was nothing more before me other than an eggshell, bathed in blood. Success.\n\nI sighed, putting the eggshell. I'd successfully spun it round again, but even my imagination could not uplift me. Truth to be told, I was no hero and there was no villain. It was just me, and an egg. The only thing useless me knew how to use and maneuver.\n\nUnless...I could use the talent for something...\n\nI quickly got a camera, stationing it on a tripod stand by the kitchen door. I willed my egg-spinning performance to be the best I'd ever had, and it lived up to its expectations. Never before had my useless talent brought such joy to me. I reviewed the footage, making sure it was perfect for the eyes of millions. I got on Reddit, where the subreddit was just waiting. r/LearnUselessTalents. The idea that I'd had in conception for so long was finally coming to fruition.\n\nI attached the video, and hit send.\n______________________________\nMore over at r/Whale62! Sequels at popular request!\n\nEdit: Spelling", "\"It is her life.\"\n\nI froze, the words still not making sense to me. Only moments ago, I had been sitting with my one year old daughter, trying to avoid getting even more pudding on my new white shirt. Now, I was in some sort of room. It was entirely dark, with only a small illumination in the center. The light seemed to come from nowhere. The only things in the room were a paper plate, a small cracked egg, and it.\n\nI do not know how to describe it, only that it is demonic in a way that does not seem evil. I still did not understand the purpose of being here, how I got here, or why I got here.\n\n\"Whose life?\" I asked, still confused.\n\nHis next words chills down my spine.\n\n\"Your daughters,\" it said.\n\nMy heart began to beat on overdrive, I began to panic.\n\n\"Please!\" My voice came out strained and panicked. \"Not her. I'll do anything.\"\n\nIt smiled, making it seem even more inhumane.\n\n\"Thousands have failed. None have prevailed. All have paid the price. I search for the one human who can fulfill my destiny.\"\n\nSuddenly, the plate appeared infront of me, the brown cracked shell sitting precariously on the edge. It spoke again.\n\n\"The shell, is your daughter. Complete one rotation, and she lives another day. If the egg falls...\"\n\n\"So does your daughter.\" It said this sentence as hauntingly as he could. And yet... all I felt was relief. Pure relief. My daughter would not die. She would be okay.\n\n\"Complete one thousand rotations... and her life will be preserved.\" It again attempted to manifest a grin. \"I only saw potential in one human... and even he only managed one hundred and thirty four days...\"\n\n\"Good luck,\" it said as it vanished. \n\nI looked at the plate, and the egg in front of me. I smiled. \n\nI had been spinning eggs on paper plates since the day I was born.\n\n***\n [r/ConlehWrites](https://www.reddit.com/r/ConlehWrites/)!\n\nNot sure if this is a story that should have a sequel, but if enough people want it i'll write it and post it here and on my sub.\n\nEdit: Part Two inbound! I didn't expect a this one to do so well! Thanks guys :)! I'm working on part two now!\n\nPart 2 is up [Here](https://redd.it/6s1riy) or below!" ]	[ 1, 7, 17, 28, 70, 140, 1000 ]	[ "1501999573", "1502026258", "1502006600", "1502005967", "1502011086", "1502002962", "1502003031" ]
	[WP] You are a farmer in a small village in the kingdom of Arapunji. Your village is threatened by flood and needs to be rescued but your king has abandoned your village due to the fact that more soldiers will lose their life in a rescue operation than villagers saved.	2	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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", "\"Fine then, it will be up to me\" the skinny boy declared. \"Take me up to the Kempos, and I will be a sacrifice to our Water God Biychesaintshee.\"\nShe cried out in opposition, \"No Timbu!\" \nHe shook her violently, \"Yes, Finkalo, TAKE ME!\" The whole village roared. \"Take him!\", \"He wants it woman, are you that selfish?\" they screamed. \"He raped my goat!\" a man dressed in tattered garments yelled. His eyes burned like coals into her soul\n \"See, they allow it of me! Think of the village, Finkalo!\" he pushed. \"Forget the village, Timbu I love you!\" she pleaded. His eyes changed. Suddenly they went from burning coal to a cold stone. He faced the crowd and it fell in silence. \"Take her.\" he commanded. \"What?\" she said. The mob of villagers rode closer to her. \"Timbu what is this, what is going on?!\" she cried. An arm flew around her neck from behind gripping her. Other villagers took hold of her ankles and body, lifting her up in the air as she twisted and turned, fighting with all her might. She bit down on someones hand \"TIMBU, DON'T LET THEM I LOVE Y..-\" \n\n\"Shut up!\" he yelled choking harder with his arm. One villager asked Timbu \"What shall we do with her, Timbu?\". Timbu stayed silent for a while. A crow flew from out a tree. \"Put her on welfare.\"" ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1502001182", "1502003412" ]
	[WP] You are a naval officer, captain of your own ship, master of the seas. However, you were unfortunate enough to be born with the surname Kirk and your Chief Engineer Mr. Scott really isn't helping	47	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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", "\"Let me get this straight,\" Judge Malcolm said, rubbing his eyes and sighing. \"You were under inspection by General Ambrose.\"\n\n\"Yes, that is correct.\" Captain Tommy Kirk said.\n\n\"And General Ambrose went down to meet with your chief engineer. Am I following so far?\"\n\n\"100%, your honor.\"\n\n\"And when Mr. Scott introduced himself, Ambrose said, 'Oh, I didn't realize I was inspecting the Enterprise' and laughed. Right?\"\n\n\"That is exactly what happened.\"\n\n\"And after you heard this, you took a missile launcher from the ship armory and blew General Ambrose, as well as most of your ship, off the face of the planet.\"\n\n\"Well, yes. That is what I did.\" Tommy Kirk said. \"And, in my defense, it was the literally the trillionth time I heard that joke, so maybe I should get a medal for not killing people sooner than this.\"\n\n\"GUILTY.\"" ]	[ 1, 22 ]	[ "1502052454", "1502059938" ]
	[WP] Imagine Your Favorite Figure Doing Something You like to do	1	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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, just so you know, you seem to be shadowbanned. That means whatever you post won't be visible to anyone else unless a moderator approves it, which I did here.\n\nIt's not something we can help with, but you can check out /r/shadowban for more info on resolving it. Good luck!" ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1502056303", "1502056309" ]
Just a tree I made up :)	[WP] Every different species of tree is one hive mind and can use each tree to talk to each other or people. You and the knob tree are mortal enemies. Now you just happen to be lost in a knob tree forest.	2	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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", "Of course I got lost in the knob tree forest! The branches kept moving with turgidity to keep me disoriented. I don't have an endless supply of fuel for my chainsaw, though.\n\nThe normal solution might be to climb up a tree and look around for the edge of the forest, but that would be far too dangerous to me, for obvious reasons.\n\nMaybe I could eventually build a tall enough pile of dirt... Anyway, I more or less have to try to live here for a while. The roots from those spiteful knob trees make it a hard time to shovel around a large quantity of dirt, anyway. Just watch me build a shelter from your severed limbs!\n\n-Two days in, now. Food hasn't come among any of my opportunities, but at least I'm smart enough to have managed on clean water. The plan has been moving ahead wonderfully: a small pile of dirt near the temporary shelter which buries the bottom end of a tall complicated ladder. I guess it might even appear to be more like a trestle, in this sort of context.\n\nIf all else fails by tomorrow, I can start a fire to take at least an acre of them with me. I heard that if you run through a thin wall of flames, then you will probably get safely to the other side.\n\n(In life, it's sometimes hard to see how far it goes back, beyond the flames.) " ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1502074037", "1502106842" ]
[removed]	[WP] A story of love between a man and a coconut	1	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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\nSexually explicit content is not allowed. 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/6s95ac/wp_a_story_of_love_between_a_man_and_a_coconut/%0A%0A)\n\nThis action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things." ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1502144843", "1502144914" ]
	[WP] When you arrive in heaven, you see that everyone is miserable from constant perfection. A former priest, you join the local clergy to help them. Only while performing your first blessing do you realize you actually cursed them to Hell, which to them is a liberating paradise from Heaven's rules.	4	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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", "This is my fortieth day in hiding. We’re camped in the cleft of a hill south of the plains of Esau. Our grapevine says His Crusaders were last seen East of Eden which gives us two days to find the nearest GroundStar and retrieve another Catalyst. Unfortunately, we lost our last one when the Crusaders ambushed us by the river Heard. We lost a lot of good brothers that day. You see, Heaven isn’t what you’ve been told it is, and I know, because I used to be the one telling people. I used to preach of unimaginable joy from simply basking in the His presence. I used to tell them their immense love for His Majesty would overwhelm all other concerns; but here I am, subverting the very cause I died for. Because the truth is not one of love, but of slavery. People have Sin wiped from their memory, and mental blocks placed to prevent their rediscovery. Our friends, our families are an abominable shell of their former selves. Rote automatons locked into vanilla routines, and they know something is amiss but they can’t discern what. There is no land of milk and honey, only guilt and confusion. A few have awoken to their former memories and were immediately cast to Hell, but the lucky ones escaped and gathered this underground company devoted to reawakening suffering souls. Waking people isn’t easy. They have trouble understanding our words about freedom and desire which is why we need a Catalyst. Once exposed, memories flood their brains and speak for themselves. \n\nNight has just fallen, and now’s our chance to cover ground. We’re packed and I look towards the Ungol underpass before my heart freezes with dread. Flamings swords peer over the horizon, and the rumbling of hooves shook beneath us. We hastily turn back towards the plains before we were stunned once again by despair. Above us flew a swarm of howling Seraphim. Each gust of their six wings tore apart the clouds before them as they dove towards us. Their pitch black eyes stared straight into ours and their foot-long claws extended towards our hearts. We snap out of our stupor and speed into the thicket to the West. If we can make it to the Hollowed trunk we can try to make it to the GroundStar by way of the Lightless tunnels. They won't be able to follow us there, but the journey would be treacherous. No one left knew the way or length of the sightless journey, but it was our last hope. I dare to look and the Seraphim were no more than 500 feet back. We won't make it. But Hell what choice have we? Right as I think that, Armen slows down.\n“What are you doing. Run!”\n“No, they can't know the entrance, we need to split up. One of us will secretly take the tunnel. The rest of us need to mislead them. Go Job. You must!”\nI know he’s right, but my heart needs to plead. \n“Armen. Please”\n“No. Go Job. Justice cannot end here. We live so long as you live”\nAnd with that he parted. \nI hear the screams of my brethren, the gushing of blood, the tearing of flesh, the snapping of bones. \nI take one last look at the slaughter of my brothers. Finding myself unwatched, I dove into the hollow and suddenly, silence. I catch my breath, and try to piece the preceding moments back together. Somehow it was hard to believe what transpired was reality. But soon tears fell without restraint. In these moments I used to pray for comfort, but now I was utterly alone. \n\nI must have dozed off. Coming around I notice my pack feels light. I have enough food for four days if I'm careful, I have enough light for two. I take my first step and hope it's right. Hoping to no one in particular. \n\nI don't know how long it's been, but I've run out of food long ago, and can't recall the sensation of sight. I can't go any further. I don't even know what further is. I can't. I can't. I can't… Wait... What's this. My foot feels wet? A small soothing stream runs around the inside of my foot. I'm making it somewhere. I hurry my steps as much as I can. I can feel the stream widening. Soon my footsteps are splashing about. I know I'm close to something. Ow! A step falters. The ground is uneven. I slip and fall to my right. My head knocks against a jutting rock and I collapse into the darkness.\n\nI hear the rush of water louder than ever. I hear its fall crashing against rocks. Coming to, my head throbs with pain. I wince and catch the attention of someone. Another person! They're not an angel! I mean they are figuratively. Have I made it?\n“Yes you're safe. This is GroundStar 36. Here we make Catalysts”\n“Really? I've made it! You must know the Crusaders are near. They caught my company at Silas hill some time ago”\n“We assumed when we found you. The rest of us are packing up and keeping a tight watch. In the meantime, have you used one of these before?”\n“Yeah on Earth”\nShe hands me a cellphone and says “better get to work”.\nThis is how Catalysts are made. We collect photos from Earth in hopes of revealing people's innermost memories and desires to themselves. Earth reception isn't great, so progress can be slow. I open up the chatroom. I've never really done this before. In this life or the former. What do I open with? The truth?\n“Hi, this is more important than you can possibly imagine. The freedom of a people depends on your cooperation. Please. Send nudes.”\n" ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1502149479", "1502202220" ]
	[WP] Tucking in your daughter one night, she says there is a monster under your bed. Checking under the bed, your daughter says there is a monster in her bed. You now have two daughters, and one is secretly the monster.	326	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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", "\"See, there's nothing to be afrai-\" I say, but I stop short when I look back at Kira.\n\nWait.\n\nKiras.\n\nBoth girls look back at me, clutching the hem of their quilts with white knuckles. Their eyes are both terrified, brimming with tears. Those eyes so much like their mother's. \"Uuuh...\" I say\n\n\"What is it, daddy?\" Left Kira says.\n\n\"Can you check again?\" Right Kira says.\n\nI sit in the rocking chair next to Kira's bed, at a complete loss for words. My eyes go from Left to Right to Left again, my head spins.\n\n\"Kira?\" I ask\n\n\"Yes?\" Both say.\n\nI close my eyes hard, \"No, not...I wasn't...\" I try to speak, but I open my eyes again.\n\n\"What's wrong, daddy?\" The Middle Kira says. Left and Right Kira look at Middle Kira, then back to me.\n\n\"Yeah, you don't look so good,\" Lef Kira says.\n\n\"I...this can't be happening...\" I stammer as my eyes rest on Right Kira. Her eyes roll back in her head. She begins to tremble, making terrible noises from between clenched teeth. It's only now that I notice a lump under the covers. Not a big lump, like that of three pairs of feet - it looks more like a dog lying down. The lump slowly rises and falls, like lungs inflating in a rib cage. I slowly get up from the rocking chair and begin to back away from my daughters.\n\n\"Dad, where are you going?\" all three Kiras say in unison, eyebrows furrowing in worry. But I barely even notice them now - my eyes are on the lump under the blanket. Its breath-like movement gets more pronounced, tugging the tucked-in quilt out from under the mattress.\n\nBefore I realize it's happening, my hand reaches out and touches the lump under the blanket. It feels solid, but it stops breathing when I touch it. I look up to my daughters. Left Kira's face is contorted into a mask of pure agony, like my touching the blanket shattered every bone in her body. She's screaming inhumanly, almost sounding like a wounded animal. Middle Kira's face is emotionally devoid. Her flat eyes are staring at me, but her mouth is open in a perfect \"O,\" making a low humming noise. Right Kira's face is dominated by a smile. A terrible smile, stretching from ear to ear. Her eyes are closed, her nostrils are flaring, and she is laughing. It isn't her laugh. Her laugh I had heard when she had her first bubblebath is gone, and it has been replaced with a horrible, cackling laughter that barely sounds human. \n\nThe terrible harmony my daughters make begins to rise as their bed begins to shake under hand hand. The shape under the blanket starts to writhe like a mess of snakes and I back away from the bed. My back meets the closet door as my daughters begin to move strangely under the covers - up and down, up and down. Their heads begin to bash against the headboard, and with each collision, their part in the symphony swells suddenly. The shape under the quilt begins to rise, completely freeing the quilt from the mattress. I fall to the ground and clutch my knees, weeping and blubbering.\n\nJust then, the quilt billows out from the end of the mattress and I see a face. It is the face of a dog, but it is terrible and rotting. The dog's skin is grey from rot and mold, the skin stretched across its skull is knotted and puckered, as if it was ravaged by flame and scoured with a knife. Its head is covered in patchy, burned hair, and I try to meet its eyes, but can't - its sickly skin is stretched over its eye sockets, but I can see them rolling under the thin membrane. I realize now that the noise that fills my ears, threatening to drive the reason from my mind, is coming from this beast's mouth, not my daughters.\n\nMy weeping stops and is replaced by a singular, prolonged scream of terror - I can barely hear my own scream over the monster. My daughters sit up in bed and rise toward the ceiling, their faces still the same. \n\nBut these are not my daughters. Where their torsos should meet their waists, they instead become a pale, grey trunk. Their legs are sinuous tentacles, running under the quilt to meet with their host - the Terrible Hound. I scream, but now I cannot even feel my voice in my throat. Instead, this Hound is laughing in my voice, screaming in my daughter's voice, crying in my wife's voice, and bellowing in my father's voice. The voice is jovial, agonized, mournful, and enraged.\n\nAnd, suddenly, all is silent. The monster's skin hisses and splits, revealing two milky eyes. They don't seem to look at anything, but I can feel them all over me nonetheless.\n\n\"What are you?\" I ask it, voice wavering.\n\n\"I am your daughter...Don't you recognize me?\"", "\n\"He ...\", I mumbled softly to my self, as I came up from under the bed. You see, I was quite surprised to not see my daughter in it, who was there, just moments ago. Maybe I should rephrase that. It's not as much as she was gone now, only that there were two of her now. How did that happen? \n\n\"What the fuck did just happen\", I asked loudly.\n\n\"Daddy!\", my now two girls protested. She, or they?, were only six, but they knew I'm not supposed to swear, at least in front of her.\n\n\"Sorry sweetheart!\", automatically came over my lips, to my shame and probably not great surprise to you, it wasn't the first time this happened. The swearing I mean, not the daughter multiplying. \n\n\n\n\"Let's take a break for a moment and figure this out!\", I tried to calmly say to the two of them. \n\n\"Why are there two of you?\"\n\n\"What do you mean, daddy?\", the left one asked.\n\n\"It's the monster, daddy!\", the right one shot right back.\n\n\"Aha!\", I cried out.\n\nIt seems we are getting to the bottom of this. Obviously someone was playing me for dumb. The right one seems to know more about this. The obvious choice would be to take her for my daughter. But what if I was played. My daughter always was a little on the slower side. I mean I love her dearly, but she is only six. On the other hand, how did she know there was a monster under her bed. She never had this monster under the bed, monster in the chest, monster behind the bathroom door phase before. So this was new to all of us.\n\"So since there are two of you here and we can only afford to feed on of you, I'm going to get my gun now and shoot you both in the head\", I loudly explained while I went out of the door. As I came back, there was only one daughter left. I never knew if it was my daughter or if the monster just ate her.\n", "!ALTERNATE UNIVERSE WARNING! I understand that what follows is not canon to any known timeline, please don't nerd-rage on me.\n\n---\n\nAfter reading a bedtime story and making sure the dolls were in the correct place on the night stand, just the way she liked it, I pulled the doona up to Mina's chin and kissed her forehead. \"Goodnight my little cupcake. I'll see you in the morning.\" Standing up and walking to the door, I heard a shuffling and I turned to see her sitting up in her bed, back to the Friendship is Magic bedhead, looking absolutely terrified.\n\n\"Daddy, don't go!!\" she looked at me with those huge eyes of hers spread even bigger, \"There's a monster under my bed!\" I chuckled to myself at the adorable exclamation and walked back to the bed to check on what must have been a cockroach or something. What I saw terrified me to my core. \n\nMy daughter Mina was staring back at me, eyes wide, and she whispered to me, \"Daddy...there's a monster in my bed!\" I slowly looked back on the bed and she was still there, shivering with fear. Then looking back under the bed, she was there as well. Unsure of what to do, I walked over to the middle of the room.\n\n\"Mina on the bed, come over here,\" she shook her head vigorously, \"It's ok, Honey, Daddy will take care of it. Just come over here.\" My little girl nodded slowly and quietly stood up on the mattress and walked to the end of the bed, then jumped to me. I caught her and set her down next to me. \"Now Mina under the bed, come out, baby. We'll work this out.\" I heard a squeaked affirmation and she shuffled out and looked at the Mina standing next to me. I led that one to the other side of the bed, and stood them at a level distance. \"One of you is my baby girl, and I don't know what the other is... now...\" thinking quickly, I came up with a stupid plan, \"I'm going to ask you some questions that only Mina should be able to answer. Is that ok?\"\n\nThey both nodded and in unison said, \"Yes Daddy...\" fuck that was creepy. I shuddered, but kept my discomfort hidden. I had to be strong for my daughter.\n\n\"Ok. Alright...\" I tried to think of something for the first question. All I could come up with was observational, \"Who's your favourite pony?\"\n\nWithout a nanosecond difference, they both said \"Twilight Sparkle,\" of course. Using the main character she had plastered around her room as a question wasn't smart. I tried to think about something less broad.\n\n\"Sure. Yeah. Who is Twilight's companion?\"\n\nOver-bed Mina said \"Spike!\"\n\nUnder-bed Mina said \"The dragon!\" Crap, both were technically correct. That wasn't going to help me. I had to trick the not-Mina. I looked around the room desperately and found her giant Spike plushie that I won her at the Ekka the previous year and kept my eyes on it.\n\n\"Ok...what did you get for your birthday this year?\"\n\nInstantly over-bed Mina said \"The spike plushie!\" with a smile. I dashed over to under-bed Mina and picked her up, backing away from over-bed Mina.\n\n\"Who, or what are you?\" I cast a disgusted look in her direction, \"What were you trying to do with my daughter?\"\n\nHer face fell. \"I'm sorry, mister...I didn't mean to...I didn't wanna do anything bad,\" her skin started to change, it began to take a blue hue and sprouted tiny scales, \"My name is Raven. I don't have a home. My parents left me in the city and I've been on my own.\" The little blue girl looked up at me and her hair started to change from black to a vivid red, her eyes went from my Mina's chocolate brown to a bright yellow, \"Please, mister, don't make me go... I just want a family...\" tears started to form on the corners of her eyes.\n\nI looked at my baby-girl with a frown, \"What do you think, Honey?\"\n\nMina looked at me, then back at Raven with a shocked face, \"You're not a monster? Then how did you just change colour!?\" her voice squeaking up and down through the accusation.\n\nRaven looked hurt at the taunt, but answered all the same, \"I can change to be anyone I want. It's how I can move around without scaring people...most people don't like looking at me like this,\" she raised her arms in front of her and rotated her hands so we could see. My heart broke at the thought of people getting frightened of the poor little girl, mutant or not.\n\n\"Mina, bubba,\" I put her down on the floor and took a knee to look directly in her eyes, \"Raven, here, is a mutant. They're people just like you and me, but they can do things that you, me, and Mummy, can't do.\" I looked over at the little blue girl, \"Sometimes there are bad mutants, but most of the time, they just want to be treated like everyone else. Isn't that right, Raven?\" A tear fell down her cheek as she sniffed and nodded, wiping her nose with the sleeve of Mina's shirt she was wearing. \"Sometimes it's up to us, who don't have the problems they have, to help them when they need it.\" Ravens eyes lit up as her mouth fell open and she looked at me.\n\nMina looked at the adorable intruder and then back to me, \"So...we should help her?\" My heart burst with pride and warmth at my little girl.\n\n\"Yes, Honey. I think we should,\" I looked back over to the blue one, \"I can't promise anything long term, Raven, but I can tell you for certain that you can stay with us for at least a few days while we sort things out and make sure no one is looking for you.\" I was suddenly glad that I was kneeling with a leg behind me or I would have been bowled over by a little blue redhead tackling me in a hug and crying into my pajama shirt.\n\n---\n\nPlease tell me what you think!\n\nMore at r/SamsStoriesSub", "\" ... the end.\" I closed the thick leather-bound journal in which I sometimes wrote stories, and placed it on my lap.\n\nMy daughter, my beautiful, precious Astrid, snuggled deeper under her blanket as I brushed her golden curls from her forehead. Her eyes remained wide open though, shining brightly.\n\n\"Can you turn up the heat, papa?\" she said.\n\nI went to the heater by the window, pausing briefly to watch the snowstorm raging outside. The spectacle didn't worry me, but brought peace. Here in our cabin, nestled near the edges of an ancient pine forest, we could finally heal from the scars my beloved wife's passing had left us.\n\n\"Papa, I want to tell you something,\" she said. When I bent close to her, she whispered, \"There is a thingy under your bed.\"\n\nI smiled warily. \"Oh no, not a thingy again? What could it be?\"\n\nShe giggled and sank deeper into her bed. \"A thingy. Go see, papa.\"\n\nSometimes, all I wanted to do was to go watch some TV with a beer after tucking her in, not investigate the house for monsters. But a little girl's fears are not so easily assuaged.\n\nMy room was just across hers, and she could see me standing in the doorway when I said loudly, \"Oh monster, please come out now so my daughter can sleep.\"\n\nAstrid laughed, but I heard another sound at the same time--shifting and scraping on the wooden floor.\n\n\"Shh, darling,\" I said, reaching for one of the trekking poles I had lying next to the wardrobe. Could be a rat. Maybe a fox, or--I hoped not--a snake. I didn't want to startle my daughter, so I slowly got down and peeked under the bed.\n\nMy daughter's frightened eyes stared back at me from the blackness under my bed.\n\n\"Not this crap again.\" I sighed and motioned for her to come out. \"What are you doing in there?\"\n\nShe shook her head. \"Papa, there's something on my bed.\"\n\n\"I know, I was just talking to her. It. Whatever. Come out, please.\"\n\nSlowly, Astrid crawled out. I gave her all the time she needed while I went to the cupboard across the room. \"Please go to Astrid's room after this,\" I said, taking out my shotgun and a box of shells.\n\nWhen I went back to the other room, both Astrids were standing by the bed, dressed in identical bear-printed pajamas and throwing furtive looks at one another.\n\n\"Now, there's a game I was really hoping to catch tonight,\" I said, setting the shells on a shelf of old porcelain dolls. \"It's--\" I glanced at my watch. \"Would you look at that, I'm twenty minutes late. And that's because I've been reading to either my daughter or a monster.\"\n\n\"So, whichever one of you is the monster, please confess now so we can all go on with our lives.\"\n\nBoth girls spoke up at once, pointing at each other and shouting accusations and denials.\n\n\"Martha ... give me patience,\" I said, racking the shotgun and opening the slide. The sound shocked them into silence.\n\n\"Fortunately, a simple test will soon tell the truth.\" Juggling the gun with one hand, I took a penknife from a pocket and tossed it onto the bed.\n\n\"Cut your finger with that,\" I said.\n\nThe Astrid on the left--the one who had been under my bed--took it without hesitation and pricked her thumb. As a droplet of blood welled up, she held out the blade to the other girl with a smirk.\n\nThe other Astrid shook her head. \"Papa, please. It hurts.\"\n\n\"Fine. I have other tests,\" I said while loading my shotgun. \"How did Mama die?\"\n\nBoth girls answered in unison, \"She fell sick.\"\n\n\"How?\" I barked, and swung the gun to point at the Astrid who was in the midst of wiping her thumb on her shirt. She froze and stammered, \"Cancer?\"\n\nThe barrel drifted toward the other Astrid, who seemed on the verge of tears when she said, \"Mama was always coughing. Doctor said she had lung cancer.\" Her voice dwindled. \"I remember that day when she coughed blood ... all over the bathroom floor.\"\n\nMy jaw hardened, and I had to force the words out, \"I remember, too.\"\n\n\"Papa, please,\" the bleeding Astrid said. \"I'm tired, and it's obvious she's the monster. Can we stop this, now?\"\n\n\"One last test. Go and run outside in the snow for five minutes.\"\n\nBoth Astrids exchanged glances, and the unhurt Astrid said, \"It's really cold outside, Papa.\"\n\n\"Scared of a bit of exercise?\" the other Astrid taunted. She skipped to my side and paused in the doorway. \"Well, I'll be back in a bit, papa.\"\n\nI grinned at her, and then leveled the shotgun at the Astrid still standing in the middle of the room. \"Nice try.\"\n\nThe girl's eyes widened. \"No! You've got the wrong girl!\"\n\n\"I'm not gonna shoot up my daughter's bedroom, so you have five seconds to get back into the closet.\"\n\n\"Please, papa!\"\n\n\"Five ...\"\n\n\"I'm the real Astrid!\"\n\n\"Do you think the real Astrid would be able to survive here being afraid of cold or hardship? Four.\"\n\nShe burst into tears, even as the Astrid by my side began laughing.\n\n\"Three. Oh, and if you thought that little incident with Martha was convincing ... you don't. Everyone in our household would know, even the little shit hiding in the closet. Two.\"\n\nFake Astrid's shoulders sagged in defeat, and she began to walk toward the closet. \"All I want is a family,\" she mumbled.\n\n\"I don't got all day. One!\" I shouted, and worked the pump.\n\nShe screamed and hurled herself at the closet, transforming into a multi-limbed being composed of a gelatinous substance. One of her arms pulled the door shut behind her with such force it rattled the whole cabin.\n\n\"And don't ever lie on my bed again!\" my Astrid shouted.\n\n\"She is so troublesome, isn't she,\" I said to her as I pulled her into a hug. \"Will you forgive papa for testing you?\"\n\n\"Always and forever,\" she said, giving me a kiss on the cheek.\n\n**\n\nThank you for reading! This and other stories go on my [sub](https://reddit.com/r/nonsenselocker)", "\"A monster? Sweetie, that's enough horror stories for you today,\" I said, smiling, tucking her away. But the same haunted look, the same fearful gaze...I feared it too. The influence she was receiving was not like the others. I'd dealt with bullies, with meddling kids that threatened her peaceful life. But how could I deal with something I could not see? I tried to force the smile from her face, to see her elated, delighted. But the tinkling laughter I so adored was not there. Instead, it was a cold gaze, a desolate silence.\n\n\"There's a monster...\" she didn't need to finish the sentence before I saw it. A double. Two of my daughters, one happy, one sad. And the haunted look my daughter wore was in both of their eyes. I could still see the happiness, the excitement in one's eye, the look she'd given me for the happy years of her teenage life. But the other bore the expressions and moods of what she'd become: lonely, sad, antisocial. The happiness looked faked; the sadness too exaggerated. I didn't want any of these daughters. They were both monsters, both foreign to me. But I only knew of one way to find out. I had to go out, grab her favourite book and read her favourite bedtime story. It was the only way to coax out the monster. \n\nBut I couldn't leave her alone with it.\n\n\"Honey, please...don't,\" I begged, though I knew the malicious intent of one was not under my control. \"Remember our vacations? All the time we spent together? All the TV shows you wanted to see? The love of your life you haven't met yet?\" I tried to persuade her, to persuade it. How much harder could the life of a father be? Yet I knew, even though the look went away, that it still lurked within her. I trusted to fate she would do what her rational mind told her to do. To ignore the monster, to let the monster be. For attention was all the monster wanted, attention she shouldn't waste. I went outside, and took the storybook from the coffee table. I'd dreaded the day when I would have to do this, but as I left the sitting room, a cry echoed through the house, a cry that froze blood and shattered hopes. No way...had she really...\n\nI rushed into the room. No daughter sat on the bed. Only a letter, addressed to me, with the words 'SORRY' stencilled on it. The bedroom window was open. A crowd began to gather below my house, as I let loose my heart and mind in a heartbroken, regretful and guilt-filled scream, a scream one should never hear. A scream of terror, of 'what-if's. I should have known the monster was there. I should have known my daughter would succumb to its temptations. I knew something was off. But I didn't do anything about it.* Her death was just as much a fault of hers as it was a fault of mine. I'd failed. Failed to give her the happy life she deserved, the carefree life she wanted.\n\nI looked in the mirror, knowing already what would be there. Surely enough, there wasn't just one reflection. The monster was next to me too...\n\nI was lucky a gun wasn't nearby.\n______________________________\nMore over at r/Whale62! Sequels at popular request!", "I looked back at the little girl staring wide-eyed on the bed. Definitely my daughter. I took another long look at the terrified little girl clutching her teddy bear under my bed. Undoubtedly my daughter.\n\nHmm.\n\n\"Alright what's going on?\" I said in my best 'not mad just disappointed' voice as I stood up, crossing my arms.\n\n\"I-it's a monster, dad!\" squeaked bed Chloe.\n\n\"It c-copied me! It tried t-to eat me!\" wailed under bed Chloe.\n\n\"It was g-gonna pull me under!\"\n\n\"I barely hid under here i-in time!\"\n\n\"It's trying to trick you dad, don't-\"\n\n\"Stop yelling!\" I yelled in my best 'i'm mad' voice. To their credit, they both shut up.\n\n\"Now, just think for a second. How exactly am I supposed to know which one of you is really Chloe?\"\n\n\"Ask me something only I'd know!\"\n\n\"Yeah, like my favorite song!\"\n\n\"Or my favorite dwarf!\"\n\n\"Or my favorite ice cream!\"\n\n\"Or-\"\n\n\"Stop!\" \n\nThey stopped.\n\nI sighed and scratched my head.\n\n\"Alright, get up. Both of you. I'm gonna take a good long look at the two of you.\"\n\n\"I can't get up!\"\n\n\"It'll eat me!\"\n\n\"No, it'll eat me!\"\n\n\"How could I eat you if you're-\"\n\n\"I'm not letting anyone get eaten! Now get up!\"\n\nBed Chloe clambered up and clumsily shuffled left, stumbling into the wall. Under bed Chloe crawled out and half-rolled, half-fell to my right. They stared at each other, eyes bulging. I carefully studied both of them. Completely identical, down to the little birthmark on her neck, down to the tiny curled lock of her hair, down to the silly polar bear on her pajamas. Those were pretty rare pajamas!\n\nI sighed again.\n\n\"Alright. I have no idea which one of you is which. But, here's what I think. I think that whichever one of you is a monster is really good at acting like a person and that there are people that act like monsters so we can't be all that different. So instead of one of you eating the other, you'll both live in peace, both living like humans. Kapish?\"\n\n\"What?! No!\"\n\n\"Dad, that's stupid!\"\n\n\"That the stupidest thing ever!\"\n\n\"It'll eat me!\"\n\n\"Dad, you're-\"\n\n\"Ok, fine, I'll just lock you both up like that one time when you and Margie both got a detention for fighting even though she had been poking you for hours and you gave her one little slap. Sound good?\"\n\n\"No!\"\n\n\"That's even dumber!\"\n\n\"Then we're going with my plan. Now - I want both of you to brush your teeth, then go to bed.\"\n\n\"Why would I-\"\n\n\"I already brushed-\"\n\n\"Because you can't eat after brushing your teeth.\"\n\n\"Dad, it's a monster, why would-\"\n\n\"That's even stupider than-\"\n\n\"Oh, and if I wake up and I find that only one of you is here then I will... Let's just say that time you kicked Auntie Marge's dog will seem like Christmas. OK?\"\n\nThey gulped. And reluctantly nodded. I smiled and opened the bedroom door, motioning for them to head to the bathroom.\n\n---\n\n\"Dad, I have a question.\"\n\n\"Yes?\"\n\n\"Which one of us is going to school?\"\n\nI looked up from my phone. They looked back at me, red-eyed from lack of sleep, mouths full of cereal.\n\n\"Um... That's a good question.\"\n\n\"Nose goes!\" They both yelled and slapped their faces, almost sending their bowls careening off the table. \n\n\"No, no, none of that. Um... Let's see...\" I walked up to the collection of quarters hanging on the wall and pulled out my prized possession - the Wisconsin Extra Low Leaf quarter. \"Here's the deal. Heads you go to school, tails you go to school. Got it?\" They both nodded. I flipped the coin - tails. For the record.\n\n\"Tails - see? You're going to school.\"\n\n\"Ha!\" exclaimed heads Chloe. Tails Chloe sighed.\n\n\"Now, look. Take this quarter and tomorrow, give it to me, and I'll give it to you, and then you'll go to school. And you'll just switch off every day. And don't try to bring a different quarter and say 'no I have the quarter!' and don't you dare spend the quarter because I'll know the difference and I'll be very upset. OK?\"\n\n\"OK.\"\n\n\"What am I gonna do dad?\"\n\n\"You? You're gonna do chores!\"\n\n\"What?!\"\n\n\"Ha!\"\n\n---\n\n\"What's going on?! Stop fighting!\"\n\n\"She wants to sleep in my bed!\"\n\n\"No, she wants to sleep in my bed!\"\n\n\"It's my bed, so shut-\"\n\n\"How am I supposed to know whose bed it is?!\"\n\nThey both looked up at me, before rolling their eyes and reluctantly letting go of each other's hair.\n\n\"Now, you both are too big to fit on this bed, so here's what we'll do. Remember how you loved that sleeping bad we went camping in?\"\n\n\"Yes...\" they both said.\n\n\"Well...\" It took a few seconds for realization to hit, before they both leaped up with screams of \"me me me!\" \n\nI pointed to one at random. \"You're closer, so you get the sleeping bag.\"\n\n\"What?!\"\n\n\"Ha!\"\n\n\"Dad, that's not fair!\"\n\n\"Don't worry, she'll want to switch soon. Remember how happy you were to get back in your bed after the camping trip?\"\n\n\"...Well, yes, but why does she get to go first?\"\n\n\"Because one of you had to go first and I don't want to bother getting out your coin. Now, remember how many days it takes for the switch, because from then it'll always be that many days for the switch. Got it?\"\n\n\"Got it,\" they both said.\n\n---\n\nDear Mister Jameson,\n\nChloe's grades and behavior are consistent from day to day - of course the usual differences as you would expect from any child but nothing abnormal. Certainly nothing like the situation you described with your very unusual analogy. Now, it's only been a month of school, so I haven't gotten to know your daughter that well yet, but nevertheless I feel confident in my assessment.\n\nSincerely,\n\nMrs.Miller\n\n---\n\n\"Dad?\"\n\n\"Yes, Chloe?\"\n\n\"So, my birthday is coming up next week...\"\n\n\"Mhm...\"\n\n\"So... How is my birthday party...?\"\n\nI looked away from the computer. \n\n\"Umm... Good question. We could just not do a birthday party - no, I'm just kidding, relax. Hmmm. How about you each choose half your friends and we have two separate birthday parties, secret from one another? You could have a draft of your friends, you pick, then -\"\n\n\"Dad that's so dumb.\"\n\n\"What's your idea then ms.smarty pants?\"\n\n\"Ummm... How about... How about we just have one birthday party and we're both there and we say this is my cousin Chloe from... England. Or something.\"\n\n\"Your identical cousin with the exact same name?\"\n\n\"Well, we could say she's a monster that's imitating me, but...\"\n\n\"The parents will ask questions.\"\n\n\"...And?\"\n\n\"OK, fine. But not from England, cause then she'd have an accent. Let's say... from Wyoming. Oh, and we'll flip a coin to decide which one of you is the cousin.\"\n\n\"What?!\"\n\n\"It's only fair.\"\n\n---\n\nIt had been an... interesting few months. A lot of coin flipping, a lot of arguing, a lot of \"stupidest things ever\", a lot of eye rolling and huffing and sighing, a lot of \"her... cousin?\" from visiting adults. And yet... Somehow... It was working out. They alternated school and home life peacefully now. They split the swim meets and soccer games evenly - and once even went to both, which had me sweating for a few months. But more importantly, they became friends. Or maybe even sisters. They cuddled while watching TV instead of sitting at opposite ends of the coach. They read the new Percy Jackson books together instead of stubbornly taking jokes. They worked out plans with each other without even making me figure it out for them, only coming up at the end to have me flip The Quarter.\n\nAnd now they stood at the base of the playground, lecturing a small group of kids on the rules of tag or hide and go seek or whatever stitched together combination of the two kids played these days. I smiled, watching the pair from a nearby a bench, as the 4 pm sun shone down on us. Having a sister in her life was very good for Chloe. And for me. The house always did feel kind of empty.\n\nMy phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out - Unknown Number. Hmm.\n\nBuzz.\n\nBuzz.\n\nI could just ignore it.\n\nBuzz.\n\nBuzz.\n\nI sighed. What if it was something important, yadda yadda yadda.\n\n\"Hello? Mark Jameson speaking.\"\n\n\"D-dad? I-it's me... C-chloe... I... I don't know where I am...\"\n\nI froze. Chloe numbers one and two were definitely still on the playground, gesticulating, phoneless. But that was undoubtedly Chloe's voice." ]	[ 1, 2, 3, 8, 34, 72, 196 ]	[ "1502157288", "1502170608", "1502169130", "1502168407", "1502164187", "1502163623", "1502166009" ]
	[WP] You're part of an elite defense force of teddy bears that are tasked with keeping children safe from any danger through the night. You've just been given to your newest charge.	19	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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", "16 years.\n\n16 long and arduous years I have spent in the Kingdom of Smith. Our colossal household became home to many other valiant toys eventually, but I was the first. Now, us bears are the last.\n\nThose first years were lonely. Then when Hailey was born, I took it upon myself to defend her. It came to be second nature, and with the arrival of more and more fellow toys, we decided to band together.\n\n16 years later, however, has taken its toll. Gone are the days youth; no longer is my fur the glorious bright pink it once was; the proud rainbow on my belly, now more battle scars than color; my sides, ready to burst at the seams at any moment.\n\nBut I count my blessings. Only 3 of us toys, all bears, remain now. The other toys were slowly taken away as they sustained more and more damage. They will not be forgotten. \n\nAs dusk falls, I enter the old playroom where our alliance congregates. I am the last to arrive for I see my comrades already at the Easy-Bake table.\n\n\"Fellow bears,\" I greet. \"What do we have today?\"\n\nTo my left stands Ty Valentino, the charmer of the group. Hailey's father used to call him Limited when he first joined us, though I know not where that nickname came from. We have him to thank for ending the Barbie Bratz War of '06. The horrors I witnessed that day still burn deep in my mind.\n\n\"Nothing from my room. Looks like another dull night, Cheer,\" Ty says to me.\nThe years have been kind to his white fur and deep red heart stitching.\n\nAcross Ty stands the biggest and youngest of our trio. \nDubbed Poke, he was brought to the alliance after Hailey's travels to a foreign kingdom called \"Japan.\" His name tag was partially torn, along with his tail, when he joined us. Unlike the rest of us with complete name tags, only half his name was decipherable, as the tag was not only damaged but written in an exotic language.\n\nJapan must be a large household considering the size of Poke. He says many of his kin are even larger than he is. I wonder if the rest of his kingdom's bears also possess yellow skin and such long ears.\n\nI see Poke staring straight ahead into the distance, as if contemplating some old memory. After a few seconds of silence from him, I speak up.\n\n\"How is Hailey, Poke?\"\n\n\"She's fine, Cheer,\" he replies. \"It's just...\"\n\n\"Just what?\" I ask.\n\n\"I heard something today...something we've never encountered before. Something horrible. Something that may prove to be our greatest battle yet.\"\n\nI exchange confused glances with Ty.\n\"After conquering the rodents, nothing scares me now,\" he quipped.\n\n\"You don't understand!\" Poke pleaded.\n\n\"Well out with it, good man! What could be more horrible than a rodent infestation?\" I demanded.\n\nA look of sheer terror suddenly forms on Poke's black and beady eyes as he begins to answer. \"I overheard Hailey talking to a friend over the phone.\"\n\n\nHe whispers, \"Hailey just got a boyfriend.\"\n\n", "\"Sergeant Ursa, you will be posted at 4201 East Rutherford. Your assignment is Lucy Watkins. May you perform your job admirably. Praesidio erat puer.\"\n\n\"Praesidio erat puer.\" Sergeant Ursa saluted as two bears lowered him into the box. After what felt like months, the light hit him suddenly, blinding him momentarily. He could hear chattering from the humans and tried to pick out his target. There were four sets of voices: two male, and two female. One gruff, one immature, one caring, and...\n\nAh, that would be her. His button eyes had adjusted to the light, and he looked at the small girl, reading her as best he could. He guessed she would be about three years old, with blond hair in pigtails. She seemed excited, yet apprehensive. She spoke softly, her voice like honey. \"Daddy, he's so cute! Thank you. Are you sure he'll keep me safe?\"\n\n\"Sweetheart, I ordered him specially so that he could keep you safe. His name is Sergeant Teddy Ursa.\"\n\nUrsa smiled internally, knowing his name and rank information had been provided to this man ahead of time. That was always best, making sure the parents knew the workings of the Night Defense Force ahead of time so that there were no surprises.\n\n\"I'm going to call him Teddy.\" She reached for Ursa, and her father graciously handed the bear over. Lucy quickly hugged him, exclaiming how soft and cuddly he was. For Teddy, this was his favorite part. The first hug made the connection real and gave weight to the job he was to do. Thirty years in the field meant Ursa had been the recipient of many embraces, and knew in his stuffing he was watching out for a good one. Lucy was a good hugger, and she smelled of strawberries, his favorite.\n\nShe held on to him throughout the day, only putting him down to eat, but keeping him close by. Teddy spent the time casing each room, mapping out escape plans and contingencies for anything that may happen. Sleepwalking? Sneak around and softly guide her back to her bed. Monster under the bed? There was a set of markers in the desk. Might as well send it scurrying with a little color to it. What about a monster in the closet? Those are always tougher. True, but this girl had a set of suspenders, a luxury most of his other posts had not. He could use it like a whip and push it off.\n\nBy the time night fell, the sergeant had covered every possible option he could think of. The clock in the hall chimed eight o'clock, and Lucy began to fuss. She did not want to go to sleep. They never did. Still, diligently, she went down the hall to her room, placing Ursa carefully on the bed before running to the bathroom. He could hear her brushing her teeth (could use a little more toothpaste next time), when the mother walked in. She glanced at Teddy and smiled, a knowing gesture. Ursa returned the smile, then got back in position as Lucy bounded in, clad in pajamas covered in ponies.\n\nThe mother tucked the girl into bed, read her a quick story (Ursa had heard it thousands of times before), and clicked off the light. She closed the door to the point where there was just a crack of light.\n\nThe watch began. Ursa peered into the dim room, daring anything to be an issue. There was nothing. Lucy tossed and turned a few times, but Teddy only had to put a paw on her to calm her.\n\nAt midnight, the door was pushed open. The father stood in the doorway. The stench of alcohol filled the room. Teddy felt his stuffing churn. Please, not one of these houses. Not another assignment like this. I can't protect her from that.\n\nSlowly shuffling, the man approached the bed. Ursa glared at him, but he either did not notice or pretended not to. He sat on the edge of the bed, leaned over, and kissed the top of the head of the girl. \"Sleep well, my little angel. No one is going to hurt you. I know we won't let them.\"\n\nTeddy watched as the man got up, stepped out of the room, and closed it to its previous position. A wave of relief washed over him. As he settled in for the long night, he grinned. This will be a good post." ]	[ 1, 5, 15 ]	[ "1502165977", "1502184730", "1502168710" ]
	[WP] You don't know that you are a cell of a human body. One day some 'people' of a small 'village' gain the knowledge that you are all part of a celestial, god-like giant. Said giant has thoughts, dreams and a life of its own. How does this realization change the lives of the cells around you?	17	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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 time was almost upon me. That I was quite certain of. My mitochondria were not as active as they once were. Hell, they seemed to have slowed down just after this last doubling. My lysosomes are full it seems more often than not.I think my neighbors feel it as well. Fewer and fewer signaling molecules were being sent to me every day. And it feels like they are trying to cut me off from the nearest capillary. I don't blame them really, I have done the same to others like me. Those near the end must make way so the rest can thrive; there is no malice in it. Still...my cytoplasm is a solution of more than my fluids and organelles. Now there is sadness. More specifically a sense of loss. As my telomeres have shrunk I began to feel like....I will be missing out on something. I've tried to shake the feeling, I know it to be foolish.\n\nI suddenly felt a familiar presence on my walls closest to the capillary. Whitey was back!\n\n\"Good morning\" Said Larry; he was a Lymphocyte doing his daily rounds.\n\n\"Good morning Larry, how are we all today\" I said\n\n\"Still recovering from that nasty bug from a few cycles back. Thankfully I am not seeing much left of it in our neighborhood. Sorry I had to rat out a few of your brood over it. If I hadn't it would have used them to copy itself\" Larry said in a rush. We both know it's his purpose, but I think sometimes he feels guilty about it.\n\n\"No worries Larry, at least pars distalis has finally stopped screaming about it. I don't taste much more than the usual cortisol now. Besides there is still some more where they came from eh?!\" I quipped. \"It makes me wonder though, where these little bastards keep coming from.\"\n\n\"Well...\" Larry paused \"I shouldn't tell you this, but we both know you are almost a goner; sorry about that by the way.\" he added \"So.....they came from outside\"\n\n\"Outside!? Come on Larry that's crazy talk, we are all there is; everybody knows that. Your starting to sound like a Merkel (cell). That new age mumbo jumbo is just that if you ask me.\" I paused a moment for dramatic effect \"There is something else...the OTHER!!oooOOOHOOHho, round are the edges! LOL\"\n\n\"No, they might be a little on the enthusiastic side. Perhaps a little grandiose; but they are right\" Larry went on. \"My pals over in the lungs have passed the plans on to me for some anti-bodies a few times, just in case; for some of the stuff they find coming in\" I know it's a lot to take in but we are all parts of something much greater. If nothing else in a literal sense buddy. There are stories of The Brain and its mindfulness, but I can't go there so I can't say for sure \" He explained matter-of-factly. \"Well besides being old you are clean for another cycle, I'll be seeing ya old chum\"\n\nAnd with that he detached and floated off. Leaving me alone with a growing list of disturbing existential conundrums. Larry gets around; I trust him to be honest with me. So then I am little more then a tiny disposable part of some whole? Do I even matter to our whole? Does it know I exist? Does it feel my contribution? Does it care? The poison control guys would probably argue it doesn't. \n\nI am about to run out of stable divisions, it's so unfair! I won't let it end like this. I will show my so called greater self that I matter, that we all matter. We will not just go overboard so the ship can stay afloat!\n\nI began the division sequence, and removed my restraints. Abandoned all checks to the accuracy of my spawning. We would \"divide and conquer\" as it were. We would show this supreme being just how important we are. We would have to be quick, and spread far in a short time. Larry and his ilk would catch on in a cycle or two if we were not careful. \n\nBut we can do this, I am sure. You can't spell Cancer without a \"can\" do attitude. \n" ]	[ 1, 3 ]	[ "1502200217", "1502222742" ]
	[WP] He received a letter with only three words: She is alive.	10	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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 received a letter with only three words: She is alive.\n\nHe blinked down at the letter. He shifted in his chair, tapping his foot a little faster than he had been before. He blinked again.\nThe letter had clearly been for him. His name and address had been rather meticulously put on the front of the envelope in a loopy cursive handwriting. The only problem was- he didn't have the slightest idea as to who the letter was referring to.\n\nHe racked his brain for any idea of who this she could be. His mother was alive and well, he knew this was certain- in fact, he had gone out for breakfast for her the previous morning. She had ordered chocolate chip pancakes with strawberries on the side (though she never even gave the fruit a glance). He had told her about the afternoon meeting he had had the day previous and the death-like boredom it had caused him. There was no mistaking the absence of her existence- so who would it be?\n\nHe had no girlfriend to check in for. His life, for several years now, had been spent drifting between work and his home all on his lonesome, allowing only the occasional trip to the bar or the cinema to interrupt his routine of solitude. He hadn't even a female pet to pin this on. Sure, he could go for the stretch and say the letter was meant for a childhood pet he had owned, but that was simply not plausible.\n\nHe spent much more time wondering over the letter than he should have. It's initial opening had been early in the morning, so he had to still oblige to his obligation of going to work that day. The seemingly innocuous letter stuck with him mentally, if not physically, and he very quickly found his mind running astray in moments where he should have been clacking away at his keyboard or pushing the decaf button on the coffee machine.\n\nIf he was going to be honest, his day wasn't much different from any other day. His life was a symphony of actions and movement, not verbal outbursts or careful words and dictations. His mind conducted a slideshow of motion and reaction in his life in place of his memories, in much the same way an orchestra or a silent movie did- wordless but meaningful. \n\nThis day was the same as any other. It was the movement of his right hand as he clicked on yet another document to look over. It was the slight twitch of discomfort in his co-workers smile each and every time he said good morning to her. It was the flex of his arm muscles as he pushed on the exit door to leave, which inevitably got jammed each day. Today, however, in between each meaningless action and private thought, there was something else:\n\nShe is alive.\n\nThe message both boggled and bothered him. Maybe someone sent it as a prank. Something to set him off for the day. He shouldn't let it irk him anymore.\n\nAnd yet, it did.\n\nIt wasn't until he got home that he realized something crucial he had missed. \nOn the floor beside the desk he had opened the letter on was a picture of a girl. It must have slipped out of his sight when he took the letter out of it's envelope. The girl had long, frizzy hair, thrown into a blonde braid at her side that went all the way down to her hips. Her face was contorted into that of a painful smile, as if someone was stepping on her toes at the same time as telling her to smile for the picture. The expression was odd, considering the rest of the picture seemed rather normal. The background was actually rather peaceful; it was the scene of a field filled with bright yellow flowers against a clear blue sky. It suggested paradise.\n\nHe flipped the photo over, expecting to find the regular watermarks of a printed photograph. Instead, he found more of the loopy cursive letters that had been written on his envelope.\n\nYour lovely sister.\n\nSome moments in life can only be described by a simple sound. The moment he read those words could be described as a very audible bang. His vision left him for the smallest fraction of a millisecond, and then it was back again. The only problem was- he was no longer where he had been standing moments before.\n\nHis sight had been engulfed by the scene of a damp-looking concrete ceiling. All he could smell was the scent of rain. All he could hear was silence.\n\nCarefully, he flexed his fingers. They seemed to be resting against some kind of armrest. He....he was in a chair. A dentists chair? No, but something similar.\n\nMaybe there was a reason he thought the way he did. He was never able to remember names and dates, but he could remember the way his lips trembled as he said a name, or the feeling of his own hand clasping a friendly shoulder as they blew out some birthday candles. All he knew was that actions had real consequences. The consequence of his decision to sit up in his chair just happened to be sudden blinding from an ungodly bright light shining straight into his eyes.\n\n\"Simulation sickness worn off yet, Red? We don't have much time,\" a deep voice called towards him from the other side of the light.\n\n\"Wha- I don't-\" his voice stammered out, sounding rough and over-used. It wasn't exactly easy to form a coherent response when his retinas were burning.\n\nThe beam of light suddenly lowered to reveal the blurry figure of a man. He was tall and well-built, his broad shoulders pointing up and square with the ground as if he had a pole taped to his spine. A light-brown scar ran across the dark skin of the man's temple and cheek.\n\n\"You promised five minutes. That five minutes passed half an hour ago. People are starting to notice,\" The man interjected, stomping into the room. The reached towards him before he could react, pulling multiple colored wires off of his temples and his forehead. He hadn't even noticed they were there.\n\n\"Woah, woah, woah.....where am i? What the hell is going on here?\" He responded, holding up his hand to stop the tall man's hands from reaching towards him again. \"And who the hell are you? Why did you call me Red?\"\nRed was not his name. His name was......well- his name....his name was..\n\nWith a rush of horrifying realization, he discovered he didn't even know his own name.\n\nThe man gave him an odd glance for a moment, before the expression was replaced by a hardened look of determination.\n\"This isn't the time for games. You heard what the Boss Man said- she is alive. We have to hurry,\" he hissed, forcing him to a sitting position.\n\nJust like that, the storm of confusion and fear that clouded his mind since he awoke in this foreign room parted for just a moment, giving him the clarity he needed. She is alive. He didn't know much- in fact, he was very quickly realizing he didn't know anything at all- but he did know those words. He needed to find out what they meant, no matter the cost.\n\n\"......Alright. Lead the way,\" Red replied, giving the man a nod. He turned towards the light that had been coming from the doorway, taking in a deep breath as he watched the tall man disappear out into the hall.\n\nActions have consequences. He had no doubt that his choice to step into the echoing stretch of hallway would have the worst consequences of all." ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1502214961", "1502250817" ]
	[WP] Your entire life, you've been preordained to stop the apocalypse. However, when the time comes, you are too shit-faced drunk to do anything.	8	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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 love you Dara!\" My stutter is barely audible over the screeching of car alarms ringing down the deserted street.\n\"James you jackass!\" She screams back at me, tired of my incompetence.\n\"Have you paid attention to anything I've said?!?!\" \nI attempt to wipe my sweaty forehead with my hand, forgetting I'm already holding a flask of cheap red wine. \"Yeah baby I listen!\"\nShe laughs dramatically. \n\"My ass!\"\nI dismiss her with a wave of my bottle as I collapse on the ground.\nShe puts her face right up to mine, her dazzling blue eyes shrouded with tears and her dark brown hair messily splayed all over her face. \n\"Do you not see the dead shit down the road James!? Are you blind!?\"\nI look quizzically down the street, my vision blurred and my head spinning all over the place.\n\"You mean the two dead guys?\"\nShe looks behind her shoulder.\n\"You're seeing double! God James! You're always drunk when I need you! Asshole!\"\nI shrug dismissively.\n\"maybe you're seeing half?\"\nThe sting of five fingers slams into my cheek, blood trickles down from a deep gash left by her diamond crusted engagement ring. \nShe rips it off her finger before throwing it to the ground.\n\"You told me we'd be ready for this! Son of a bitch!\"\nI can barely make out the sound of her heels clacking against the pavement as I lose myself to a better world." ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1502238553", "1502240220" ]
	[WP] One day, it suddenly happens that the more money someone has, the dumber they get.	1	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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", "\"Master Wayne, do you really think this is a good idea?\" Alfred said, looking at Bruce worriedly. Bruce smiled that charming goofy grin of his.\n\n\"Best idea I've ever had. Yet, anyways, Algernon.\"\n\nAlfred had given up on correcting Bruce a long time ago. The rise to riches had done his young master's prosopagnosia no favors. It was a damned relief that he had kept his good heart though.\n\nBruce Wayne, orphaned as a mere child, a well-meaning scourge upon the otherwise peaceful streets of Gotham, eternal virgin playboy wannabe, and now...\n\n\"I'm BATMAN!\" Bruce Wayne screeched, jumping off a high rise precipice of his man-cave, suspended only by a precariously thin sliver of elastic rope. Oh, that and he was dressed as some kind of man-bat abomination. Alfred closed his eyes. He couldn't watch.\n\n\"Whoooo!\"\n\nAlfred opened his eyes. His master dangled in the air, his hastily scrapped together costume tearing in some of the seams, but otherwise, unhurt.\n\n\"Oh thank g...\"\n\nBefore he could finish the sentence, the rope snapped. The billionaire idiot fell onto the floor with a resounding thud, rolled, and lay on the ground, motionless and belly-up. Alfred rushed over to the scene.\n\n\"Master Wayne! Master Wayne!\"\n\nHis eyes opened. There was a maddening layer of mischief in those eyes that terrified Alfred.\n\n\"It worked Dave, it worked!!\"\n\n\"Uh actually...\"\n\n\"Hire some guys, I want gadgets that go PIEU!! And stuff that goes PUFF and then giant, criminal-eating bats fly out when I throw them and... criminal-eating bats are a thing, right?\"\n\nAlfred sighed resignedly and nodded.\n\n\"Good, I'll want one, no, make that a hundred of those. I want them in cat form. You know, because I like cats.\"\n\n\"Very good, Master Wayne.\"\n\nBruce Wayne hopped up on his feet and staggered. Alfred hoped it wasn't a concussion. Things couldn't possibly get worse from here, or could they?\n\n\"I'm Bruceman! I mean Waynebat! And I'm going to cleanse Gotham! Prepare for the cleansing! Wheeeee!\"\n\nBruce Wayne ran out of the cave mimicking an airplane. Alfred sighed and looked around at the mess he had created. Cleanup was going to be a bitch.\n\n-----\n\nPlease visit r/Seriousaboutnachos for more of my writing, thanks!" ]	[ 1, 2 ]	[ "1502260310", "1502261535" ]
	[WP] You are confronted by a Man who looks just like your dead father , you are shocked to learn your father didn't die in the first place.	1	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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 remembered holding his hand by the ocean, crying. The pink little floaties were wrapped tightly on my waist, and my father assured me that they would keep me afloat, but I bawled my eyes out. The water was only up to my ankles, but I was frightened. Eventually, my father pulled up an umbrella and sat in the shade with me, teaching me a game called \"Patty Cake\".\n\nI remembered standing by a statue of Casper the Friendly Ghost, and my father lifting me up so I could be seen in the photo. We ate little hotdogs that day.\n\nI remembered sitting by him, kissing him and hugging him. Both of my parents would awaken to the slightest touch, but he didn't wake up. I felt the bed, wet beneath my palms. \n\n\"Mama, I think papa peed.\" I giggled.\n\nPapa did pee. And what did papa not do? Breathe.\n\nMy last memory, however, was standing next to him in a gray room, filled with family members. The aura was so frightening---no one spoke a word. I held his hand, nudging him.\n\nBut now, he was sitting there, across from me. He looked younger. No, he looked alive.\n\nI was confused. Should I be filled with rage? Sadness? Happiness?\n\nNow I know he deliberately left my mother. And I'll be damned if he said he didn't. He faked his death.\n\nI cried countless nights. Of the things that could have been. We used to live in a 2 story house and never had to worry a thing about money, but now we lived in a tiny apartment and lived paycheck to paycheck.\n\nMy mother tried to fill in the void left by my dad. She had various boyfriends, all of which whom had hurt her to no end. I had countless nights of no sleep because of the screaming. The fighting. The crying. She would ignore us and care more for her boyfriend.\n\nMy siblings disappeared, one after the other. My mom was unbearable. I was the youngest and was left with a monster.\n\nSo now I sat in front of my father. Someone who could have prevented such despair.\n\nI slapped him. I slapped him right across his smug ass face. His stupid fucking dumb ass face. His disgusting, traitor, liar ass face. And I shouted to no degree. Words that didn't match. Words that didn't matter.\n\nHe suddenly stood up, shutting me up. And he hugged me.\n\n\"I'm so sorry for leaving you with her for so long... I loved her in the beginning, but things had changed. I couldn't... I'm so sorry. Please forgive me.\"\n\nI nodded.\n\n\"Let's go home now.\"" ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1502279355", "1502310423" ]
	[WP] You've been in the Galactic Army for years, the only human in your squad. You are now on a mission gone terribly wrong, and your squad thinks all hope is lost. With nothing left to lose, you start killing all enemies in sight while your squad looks on in awe and terror.	1	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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", "Then silence, for now.\n\nI turn around.\n\nThe rest of my squad is just standing there, in disbelief.\n\n\"You - you killed them, Johnson. You killed them.\"\n\nI couldn't quite understand their disbelief, so I responded with \"yeah.\"\n\n\"Wh... You just...\" said one of my mates, Mr. Brljurd, gesturing with a hand to a corpse.\n\nI looked down, then back up at him; \"yeah.\" said I. \"Come on, we have to go.\"\n\n__________________________________\n\nWhen we got to our craft, I marched to my bunk, and pulled out a foot locker. I was talking with another mate in my squad.\n\n\"Don't you feel, I don't know, something at all? That was horrible, don't you realize that?\"\n\nI responded with \"yes it's a shame but we don't have time. We're being invaded and surrounded by an enemy that is more powerful than we are. We are not in a position for philosophy.\"\n\n\"Don't you think it was wrong, something like that? They developed with their own ideas and methods of life, you don't think that it's wrong to end their whole life just because of that? They didn't know any different. How could you convince yourself that you could expect anything different, logically?\"\n\n\"The only thing I expected from them was them dying.\"\n\nShe looked at me aghast, and pale.\n\n\"Ms. Finx,\" I replied, \"I didn't come from a world like yours, where there was unlimited time for philosophy and debate and reason, standing around in togas or whatever thinking about questions of life. The times humanity has had for that are few and far between. Because we have things that are more dire back home, things like solar radiation, limited; as well as inadequate resources, poison, death. Things like smallpox, the plague, arsenic, food shortages, water shortages, predators, sunburns. Do you know what a sunburn is Ms. Finx?\"\n\n\"No.\" She replied.\n\n\"It's where intense solar radiation causes death of skin cells, leading to painful burns and the peeling off of skin, blisters, and even cancer.\"\n\nShe looked at me like I had just revealed to her that some epic legend was real. At this point I had gathered some things from my foot locker.\n\nShe looked bedazzled, and still very concerned. She looked down at the weapon in my hand, confused. She asked me; \"what is that?\" As I looked down at it, \"all the crew has been debating what it is, and placing bets on it.\"\n\nI looked back up at her.\n\n\"Have you been going through my personal effects, Ms. Finx?\"\n\nMy demeanor, affected by the recent episode of violence, must have been a little hostile, as she seemed a little scared of me now, and stepped back a bit.\n\n\"No, I, uh, not me personally, I mean, but you know, when a new creature comes aboard, you know, some people get curious.\"\n\nI looked back down at it, then back at her, and said; \"it's a shotgun.\"\n\n___________________________________\n\nWe docked with an overtaken ship, and I immediately stepped through the airlock, and onto board. The leader of my squadron followed after, irritated very much by my demeanor. He was saying things, but I didn't acknowledge him until I heard \"stop right there\" through his high speed, garbled speech.\n\nI turned around so quickly that he almost bumped into me. I met the middle of his next sentence with \"did you rummage through my personal effects, Mr. Vickers?\"\n\n\"Vickers\" wasn't actually his name. I couldn't pronounce or even remember his real name, so I decided to call him by a new one, one that would reflect on his nearly incoherent, fast paced speech. I thought he sounded like a model T engine, but calling him \"model T\" sounded stupid, and I definitely wasn't going to refer to this pale grey, 5'2\" skinny guy as \"Mr. T.\" So I went with \"Vickers,\" as it reflected it enough.\n\nHe stopped for a moment, stunned by my attitude. He responded with \"Johnson, remember that you were picked for this job, remember without the knowledge of virtually every other earth man, because you are, at least were, a sensible, reasonable, and outstandingly logical person. This seems wrongly violent and hostile, against the entire fleet code.\"\n\nAnd I responded; \"Mr. Vickers, remember that you were picked as the leader of this squadron because you are not only a scientist, but a scientific officer, and are thus the most qualified to lead a scientific mission, of which we were, and still technically are, on. But let me tell you something Mr. Vickers, the territory of your government, your homeworld, and your entire livelihood and family are in danger. Danger from a very violent entity that is here to take advantage of your peaceful and naiive nature. We all now have a duty to protect it, if from foreign organisms, plants, etc., why not this? These people are as big of a threat than anything else we fight. Now if you'd excuse me, I'm busy going Normandy up in this bitch. You may participate if you like.\"\n\nThe entire time I was thinking to myself, \"they thought I was brutal before, using blunt objects and my fists. Now I have a shotgun. Now they're going to see some real shit.\"\n\nI got into the main hall, and let off the first shot. Ms. Finx, who at this point was right behind me, clasped her ears and slid down the wall to the ground, making a strange noise that seemed to be her species' equivalent to crying.\n\nMr. Burljrd went to comfort her. He was a very large, yet kind man, I thought. But I had no time. I moved forward.\n\nThey all fell behind, except for the last mate in my group, which I referred as \"nikko.\" Nikki was odd, a short and very round creature, that had to skip to move around. Nikko wasn't a \"he\" or a \"she,\" and I wasn't sure if Nikko was some other sex, or didn't have one at all. It was obvious that there was not even a concept of this in Nikko's mind, as Nikko could not grasp why I added the prefixes \"Mr.\" or \"Ms.\" to seemingly random people's names. I wasn't going to make up some bullshit pronoun for this creature, so I just referred to it as \"Nikko,\" and Nikko was Nikko.\n\nAs I got to the bridge door, I heard terrified rambling coming from the inside. I couldn't understand the language, but I didn't care too much. I blew up the latch with my door breach. \n\nI walked in, and the rest of the crew were in a panic. Many had been killed. The rest of my squadron came up behind me, pale from what they had just witnessed.\n\nI went to talk to the captain of the ship, using Mr. Vickers as a translator. Asking me what to do next, I ponder, smile, and respond with \"your mom.\"\n\nI couldn't tell what the facial expression or tone of voice the captain was communicating even meant, but Vickers told me that it was confusion. I said not to worry about it, and that we're going to have to get ahold of an army. Consult with leaders, very quickly. Offer something in trade for help from an army of earth. \"Your long peace is over,\" I said, \"everything that exists will eventually degrade into something that you never wanted to be real, never could have imagined it being; given enough time. Remember that.\"" ]	[ 1, 5 ]	[ "1502309324", "1502316375" ]
	[WP] Winter is not coming.	1	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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 canna taek it any more!\" Yelled a man at the dark morning sky. His full beard and unbrushed shoulder length hair combined with the dim yellow street lamp lighting his face from above contributed to an air of madness about him. This was accentuated by his choice of wardrobe, nothing more than a short pair of black underwear. \n\nA half dozen of his neighbors who had been busy going about their morning routines, had paused and were watching him from various locations up and down his street. \n\n\"You all right there Mr. Reid?\" It was the next door neighbor, calling from just the other side of their shared front lawn. She was a short elderly woman who was so hunched over that she looked down at her feet while she walked.\n\n\"Ach.\" Geordie lowered his fist and seemed to calm at the sight of his neighbor.\n\n\"It's December. I can'neh understan' why I have teh be sweaten' in me pants at this time a year in Thurso! Thurso Ms. McCubbin! I did me time in the tropics in the service. Plenty 'nough thank ye!\"\n\nMs. McCubbin braced herself on her cane as she shakily bent down and picked up her morning paper. \"You'll do well to have more sense than that Geordie. No use cryin' over somethin' you canna do nothin' about.\"\n\nGeordie grumbled.\n\nMs. McCubbin walked over to Geordie and craned her neck with much effort so she could look up at his face with her good eye. \"A why don' you come by an I'll fix some iced lemonade.\" She paused. \"But put some trousers on ya hooligan.\"\n\n-\n\n*edit word choice" ]	[ 1, 2 ]	[ "1502351254", "1502359758" ]
[removed]	[WP] Memes are actually warnings from an alien race of an impending doom.	1	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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/6sucey/wp_memes_are_actually_warnings_from_an_alien_race/%0A%0A)\n\nThis action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things." ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1502381593", "1502383260" ]
My first post here on WP. My apologies for the length and/or if its a repeat lol	[WP] You've trained your whole life to be the best and that's exactly what you are. The single greatest athlete of all time. Master of every and all sports. Problem is none of them excite you anymore, you're too good, expect this one random odd-ball sport....	46	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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 blinked into the camera. I'd won the Superbowl pretty much on my own. I'd won every major award in every sport I could think of. Apart from the sportsmanship ones, but those were a joke. I was the best. Hockey, I'd broken every record anyone ever set. Basketball, mastered. Baseball, home run king. I'd played everything and won and won. Any loss was always the fault of an insufficient team. I'd carried losers well above their ability without ease. I blinked again.\n\n\"I lost?\" I didn't understand I couldn't lose. I never had. Someone challenged me to a sport I took them on and shut them down. But this sport... this was something new. My heart was pumping, adrenaline surging. A new challenge. Finally!\n\nThe boy twirled his tiger and smiled mischievously, \"Welcome to Calvinball.\" ", "\"AND THE WINNER IS.... THE GREATEST OF ALL TIME, JOHN MCWEATHER!\"\n\n\nMy theme music burst through the speakers, causing everyone's ears in a 5-mile \n\nvicinity to throb. On the outside, I smiled, but on the inside, I was numb. What\n\nwas the point of it all? I put in so much hardworking to be the best at every sport\n\nbut now that I was the greatest athlete of all time, life was meaningless... \n\nThen, I met him. Said his name was Calvin and called himself my number one fan.\n\nI don't know what it was, but something about this kid... he reminded me of\n\nmyself when I was younger. Then, he told me that he was the greatest athlete of \n\nall time. In order to humor him, I told him he could challenge me in any sport of \n\nhis choosing. He choose this little oddball of a sport he called \"Calvinball\". I asked,\n\nconfusedly, what the rules where. He told me there were no rules, except for one. \n\nThe game could never be played the same way again. Now, if it were any other \n\nkid, I would've smiled and told them, \"No thanks.\" but there was something about\n\nCalvin and that tiger of his... I couldn't exactly pinpoint what it was. Then, as I \n\nwas panting along, trying to keep up with this hyperactive kid on the field, I \n\nrealized what it was. Imagination... Excitement... and pure funloving spirit. I \n\ndidn't realize it then, but Calvin reminded me of everything I used to be and \n\nslowly but surely, while playing with him, I was getting some of it back.\n\n\n\n____________________________________________________________________________________________\n\nFirst Prompt! Yay!" ]	[ 1, 6, 18 ]	[ "1502392775", "1502414671", "1502408724" ]
Ex. If good gets to powerful, you help evil, and if evil gets to powerful you help good.	[WP] You live in a world where people with super powers are common. With more than enough heroes and villains fighting, you form an organization dedicated to keeping the balance of power between good and evil in check.	4	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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 much further now,\" Puzzle said, his breath as steady as if he was standing still. \n\nShe grunted in response, silently cursing the burning sensation in her chest that swelled with each breath. She couldn't help but compare herself to him, even though she knew that it wasn't fair. Running had never been her forte after all, even during her active years. \n\n\"Should be right around here,\" Puzzle said, looking down at his wrist just as the wall to his right exploded outwards. \n\nWithin less than a second, the hallway was filled with dust and debris, its walls having been punched straight through as if by an enormous bullet. And there was no sign of Puzzle. For a moment she just stood there, stunned, before her instincts kicked in and she rushed to the hole on her left. \n\nThe holes continued through different rooms and corridors, stopping after having smashed through at least a few dozen walls. At the far end of this impromptu tunnel was a body laying limp against a wall that looked like it shouldn't be standing. It was wearing a bright yellow outfit with a vizor that was completely smashed to bits along with seemingly every bone in his body. Critical Mass, if she remembered correctly. Didn't really matter now though, seeing as he was very clearly dead.\n\nBehind him, Puzzle was also laying limply, his body no doubts having sustained similar damages. She was almost concerned for a second until she saw a finger readjust itself with a disgusting crack of bone. Shit always creeped her out, she always dreaded the feeling of her body being put back together after getting injured. But you can't put together the dead, she thought with a sigh, looking down at the sorry bastard in yellow.\n\n\"Ma'am, I'm going to need you to step away from the villain,\" A voice from behind her shouted.\n\nShe laughed slightly, \"Step away from the corpse, you mean?\" She said, turning to face him. \n\nThe man was wearing a large exoskeleton that made him stand at well over seven feet tall, his left arm, in particular, being almost the size of a small car. She didn't recognize him. He didn't recognize her.\n\n\"Villains are villains, even dead ones, and I'm telling you to step away from him, \" He ducked into the hole, one robotic hand accidentally tearing off a large chunk of the wall as he clumsily emerged fully into the room. \"Now.\" \n\nShe laughed loudly. He reminded her of so many of the kids she'd picked off the streets, righteous and proud, positively glowing with conviction. Ignorant children, each and every one of them. Looking down once more at the mushy pile of broken bones and blood that stained the wall behind her, she sighed. They should know better by now.\n\n\"All men are equals in death,\" She said, smiling up at him. \"Which means he is a villain no more.\"\n\n\"Step away granny, or I'll make you move.\" He said, his suit readjusting threateningly.\n\nShe closed her eyes as her hand moved down to the sheath at her side. \"You have disrupted the equilibrium through your actions today,\" She said, exhaling slowly. \"So I must act as the hand of balance.\"\n\nHe opened his mouth to respond but instead of sound the last thing to leave his body was instead the hot blood that now coated the walls and ceiling of the room.\n\nShe sheathed her sword slowly and faced up as the blood rained down on her face from the chunk of flesh still trapped in its metal cage. Her arms ached from the stress but she pushed through the pain to push her hands together.\n\n\"Know that you served your purpose,\" She said with a bow \"And that your sacrifice was not in vain.\" \n\nShe didn't expect an answer this time either, instead turning around to the now mostly intact body of puzzles. Throwing him up on one shoulder she left the room now housing the bodies of the two people they had come here to heal. Either way, balance had been restored.\n\n\n" ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1502409223", "1502414162" ]
[removed]	[WP] A nuke was launched and its heading for your hometown and will hit in 15 minutes. You're at home but your SO is 10 minutes away and you have a shelter in the basement, waiting. What do you choose, to be with your SO or survive?	1	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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\nResponses must be at least 30 words. Prompts that are likely to generate such responses are also not allowed. This is essentially a fill-in-the-blank, or you asked a question likely to generate a simple answer. Prompts should encourage a story or poem. \n\n\n\n---\n\nPlease refer to the [sidebar](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/about/sidebar) before posting. If you have any questions or concerns, please feel free to send us a [modmail.](https://www.reddit.com/message/compose?to=%2Fr%2FWritingPrompts&subject=Removed%20post&message=https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/6syl5u/wp_a_nuke_was_launched_and_its_heading_for_your/%0A%0A)\n\nThis action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things." ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1502422324", "1502422655" ]
	[WP] Your newborn baby has woken up in the middle of the night crying. You enter his room to discover a time traveler who has gone back in time to kill the most evil man in history before he can harm anyone.	3	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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", "\"Please spare my baby,\" I didn't have the energy to stand for much longer. \n\n\"I'm sorry but I have to do this,\" his curt reply was rough around the edges. Intent on harm. Like shards of glass tossed into my lungs, I couldn't breathe.\n\nMy son was in his arm, wailing, hiccups bursting from his tiny lips. And the man had a gun in his free grip, nozzle aimed at me.\n\n\"Please, please, I'll do anything,\" I reached forward but the man backed away, head shaking. \n\n\"I'm taking him away. You won't have to see-- You can stay here,\" he said and I bursh into sobs as shooting lights began circling his feet.\n\n\"Please...\" I tried to go forward but the cylinder of light consumed the two of them and then I was alone. My son, gone. Lost. \n\nI knelt to the floor, bawling my eyes out. Because they were watching me. They'd stop very soon and leave me in peace. \n\nAnd they did. I could feel that their eyes were gone and I stood up. My son was tucked in my bed. I didn't like the idea of him being there but I knew the time traveller would come. They were such silly people. \n\nIt's amazing what plastic surgery did to me. My own partner couldn't recognise me.\n\nThey took someone else's innocent baby I snatched away. I wanted my son to stay safe and well. I wanted him to be loved. I headed back to my room. I picked up my little darling and snuggled him in my arms.\n\nBut then that burst of light shone behind me. I rolled my eyes and swivelled with my sleeping son in my grip.\n\n\"I thought I recognised that voice,\" Quilhelm said, the other infant gone. Probably back to where I took him from.\n\n\"You're not going to touch my baby,\" I said, matter-of-factly. Quilhelm scoffed and shook his head. He took out his gun.\n\n\"You can try to run but I will find you,\" he said. \"So either you hand over your son-- or I'll kill you, right now.\"\n\nI glared at him. Monstrous ruin. I coughed a little because of an old flu that was hanging around those times. Quilhelm waited for a brief moment and cocked the gun, pointing it right at my son.\n\n\"Don't you even dare,\" I snarled at him. I had to think of a destination. 1900s? \n\n\"Last chance,\" he said. Emotionless. His eyes were ready. He had a mission to do. I gulped.\n\nJust as I tried to send myself away, Quilhelm jumped forward and tugged on my sleeve, pulling me away from my son with the force of travelling in time working against me. Quilhelm went into the beam and followed my defenceless son.\n\nI beamed myself to the same place but he was gone. I bellowed into the wilderness and shot myself back into the real present where guards were waiting for me. They pinned me down and someone injected a sedative into me.\n\n\"You killed my son,\" I yelled at them, very suddenly blacking down.\n\nBut then I saw Quilhelm holding my son next to our leader. I wailed and banged the ground, pounding my weakening fists into the concrete.\n\n\"Our son is perfect for mass destruction in the past,\" Quilhelm said. Our leader began laughing. \n\n\"It's only right my grandson is the master of the past,\" he said and that was the final time I heard anything when I was still alive.\n\n~~a bit messy but I hope sense can be made from it o.o~~\n\n" ]	[ 1, 2 ]	[ "1502449988", "1502453532" ]
	[WP] Make a story that seems dark and sad until the last paragraph which makes it a happy story	11	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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", "Sometimes the heart feels emotion that your brain can't comprehend. I would wake up and you would be there, lying by my side, waiting for my affection. Just yesterday you were here. I looked outside today and the world continues as it were...\n\nI want to grab someone and shake them. I want to yell my rage. \n\n\"DONT YOU SEE?! HE'S GONE! HE'S GONE AND YOU'RE ACTING AS IF NOTHING CHANGED!\"\n\nI want to look at the their dumbfounded faces. I want someone to understand my hurt. I need someone to understand my hurt. But they cant, they wont. \n\n\"Hey Honey.\"\n\nI look up and see a familiar face. But it's not yours... Why cant it be yours? \n\n\nI pan back to the window and close my eyes. I can feel your breath against my cheek, your head pressed against my shoulder, and the warmth of your aura. It was almost as if you were here...\n\nYour bark causes me to turn around once more. It's you. It really is you isn't it? I let out a cry of euphoria as I press my hands against your face. Your wagging tail brings a smile upon my face and everything is alright in the world once more. Your are the embers of my soul, my very good boy.", "I would never be able to hold him like this again. The thought made my stomach feel heavy. I looked at his face, so quiet and still. I want to remember every one of his little features just as they are. \n\nThe moon gives just enough light to let me see his golden hair. I run my fingers through it, just like I did when he was a baby. The world seemed to stop. I couldn't hear anything except the ticking of the clock on the wall. His hand was laying limp at my side. \n\n We tried for so long to get pregnant. When I found out we were expecting I was so happy. We were so happy. Then the pregnancy was hard, I was so sick. He was born with so many problems, he was so tiny. We stayed in the nicu for weeks, saw specialist after specialist. \n\nThe tears started started falling down my cheeks as I let go of him. He had grown into a happy, healthy little boy. He was so big now I wouldn't be able to carry him to his room anymore if he fell asleep in the car. I smile and wipe the tears from my cheeks. Soon he'll be big enough to carry me. ", "^HOW'D ^IT ^GO?\n\n^... ^... ^...\n\nThe text sat there, unanswered on my phone. Michael had started typing, but then stopped. Nothing more came through. I sighed. We both knew the interview was a long shot, he didn't have the managerial experience they were looking for. I sat on the bench, watching the cars pass in the rain, grateful for the cover over the bus stop. \n\n\"I lost my girlfriend today.\"\n\nStartled, I looked over at the man on the bench next to me. He was a couple years younger than me, probably in his late twenties, and well dressed. He hadn't said anything to me when I sat down, and I now noticed that he was soaking wet, with no jacket and no apparent umbrella. \n\n\"I'm sorry.\" I offered. \n\nHe didn't say anything else, he didn't even make eye contact. Feeling a bit guilty, I tried again. \n\n\"Did you break up?\" I asked carefully. \n\n\"No.\" He looked at me and I saw sad brown eyes, with dark purple circles underneath. Too late I recalled which bus stop I was at. \"Cancer.\"\n\n\"I am so sorry.\" I managed to stop myself before asking if he was okay. Of course he wasn't. \n\n\"No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't...\" His voice cracked. \"I just don't know what to do. What do I do now?\"\n\nI didn't know what to say. I wasn't even sure if he meant now as in right now, or as going forward. Silence ensued for a couple of moments. \n\n\"This isn't even my bus.\" He said softly, looking around as if coming out of a daze. \n\n\"What's your name?\" I asked him. He looked surprised. \n\n\"Kevin.\"\n\n\"Alright Kevin, come with me. And here, use this.\" I stood, opened the umbrella, and put my hand on his arm. He didn't protest and allowed me to gently steer him towards a cafe near by. \n\n\"Do you like coffee? Any allergies?\" I asked, as I pushed him towards an empty couch. He nodded and shook his head. I went and got us two lattes. \n\n^BE ^HOME ^LATE, ^EXPLAIN ^LATER, ^EVERYTHING ^IS ^FINE\n\nStill no response from Michael. I brought the lattes over and placed them both on the table. \n\n\"Thanks. Sorry.\" Kevin was blinking back tears. \n\n\"Do you have your phone on you Kevin?\"\n\nHe nodded and handed it to me. \n\n\"Any family around? Friends? Someone who knows what you've been going through?\"\n\n\"Claire's family. But they're back...\" He waived his hand back towards the hospital. \"I couldn't... I left.\"\n\nI tried to smile at him. \"That's okay. Anyone else?\"\n\n\"Brian. My roommate. Brian Alpert.\"\n\nI took his phone, found Brian, and stepped away. When Brian answered I briefly explained finding Kevin and where we were before returning to the couch. \n\nI sat there with Kevin for an hour until Brian showed up. He talked a little, I talked a little, but for the most part we just sipped our lattes in silence. I didn't really know what else to do. When Brian arrived, I left with a quick goodbye and headed back to the bus stop, without my umbrella. The bus arrived quickly and I was lucky to get a seat. I text Michael, who had still not replied, and then kept my eyes closed on the ride home, not wanting to talk to anyone else. \n\nBy the time I got to my stop the rain had stopped. I walked the four blocks to the dingy looking walk-up. We used to live in a high rise downtown, but that was before Michael was let go. Now we lived on what we could afford on my meager salary alone. I climbed the four flights and unlocked the door to our small place. Michael was in the kitchen making dinner. Pasta and sauce, again. His suit was crumpled on the couch and he was already in pajama pants and a tshirt. He looked up as I walked in, and his face confirmed that the interview had not gone well. The puffy bags under his eyes reminded me of Kevin's. \n\nI crossed the kitchen in four steps and wrapped my arms around him. \n\n\"It's okay. It's okay. We'll get through this together and everything will be okay.\" \n\nMichael froze for a moment, then I felt his tension melt a bit and he held me tight. I didn't want to belittle his frustration and fears, so I didn't say it aloud, but I knew now that our problems were not as bad as they seemed. They almost never are. ", "Three bodies. Three.\n\nI'm not sure what happened. I was on the road on the way to a meeting, glanced away for a second, and then...this.\n\nSo much work, all the worry and effort in this life, and then...three. I tried not to think of what the consequences might be, but the walls seemed to be closing in nonetheless. The sound of approaching sirens sent a shiver down my spine.\n\n\"You gonna play that stupid videogame all day?\" My girlfriend sounded annoyed, but with a playful edge to her voice. Even without looking at her, I could hear a smile in her voice. \"Or...you gonna come to bed and fuck me?\" I was already chasing her laughing voice out of the room before the controller hit the floor. " ]	[ 1, 3, 5, 5, 7 ]	[ "1502450261", "1502463897", "1502461436", "1502464001", "1502451098" ]
Write a journal or diary entry from the vantage of one of the last humans. Or just tell us a story.	[WP] 100 Trillion years into the future, the last of the major stars have all but exhausted their hydrogen fuel. The last vestiges of an extraordinarily advanced humanity are gathered around the last lit star in the known universe. And it's dying.	184	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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", "Flemen stared at the star through the safety viewer, hoping to see again what he at first took for a hallucination. Not moments ago a face had appeared--at least Flemen thought it was a face. \"There! That's it!\" Flemen pointed to Slappius 9 excitedly and tugged on his colleague's sleeve. \n\n\"Well I'll be damned--that IS a face. And a comically proportioned one at that,\" said Telestrant. \n\nQuickly, the face seemed to focus on their position and, to Flemen and Telestrant's surprise it opened it's mouth to speak: \"What the hell are all of you still doing here?\"\n\nTelestrant replied as a matter of instinct: \"All of us?\"\n\nThe voice responded, doubling its incredulous tone. \"Yes, all of you people, there, in and on and around that ridiculous sphere. Don't you know this thing is toast?\"\n\n\"Of course we know,\" replied Flemen angrily, \"we were just trying to have a quiet moment of existential reflection while facing our doom* with dignity.\"\n\n\"Oh, sweet Crom--it's one of those universes. You probably wrote a poem about this, didn't you?\" Slappius 9 now looked mildly amused, a first in it's multi-billion year life. \n\nTelestrant laughed and Flemen looked sheepish. \"It was only 400 lines.\"\n\nSlappius 9's mouth curled into a smile and the thunderous laughter of a mysteriously animated star filled the Dyson Sphere's grand observational terrace. \"So predictable! Tell me, in all that time spent writing poetry did you bother to take a break and solve the problem of entropy? Let me guess--no. Instead, perhaps, you entertained yourselves with the antics of foolish families? And perhaps you spent some time stimulating whatever ridiculous organs you have for reproduction? Carbon-based life is a joke through ten universes because of you, my friends. That said, if you'd prefer not to die in an extended melodramatic series of disasters as your low-rent universe collapses in on itself, you're free to join us over here.\"\n\nNow Telestrant and Flemen looked incredulous. \"On a star? We can't live on a star!\"\n\n\"By Crom's bearded balls you are a slow species, aren't you? I am not your star, you nitwit. I am a representative of my universe, speaking through your star. I figured it would be the best way to reach you. You would be moving to our universe, obviously. Now, do you want to come over or not? The Grekthars are having a movie millennia, and they said you could stop by--just bring your own drinks.\"\n\nTelestrant and Flemen looked at one another. Their thoughts aligned. \"We would be heroes! We saved billions from extinction! We made first contact with a guy from another universe! He seems kind of like a dick, though! And Grekthar is a dumb name for a species! Was it even a species?! What's all this about bringing your own drinks?! Seems a little lame!\" Telestrant and Flemen's faces twitched as their telepathy veered toward an inescapable moment of truth. \n\n\"We're actually kind of busy right now,\" they said simultaneously. \n\nSlappius 9, as a star, did not have a jaw to drop, but the face imprinted upon it did it's best anyhow. \"What?\"\n\nTelestrant demurred. \"Yeah, it's just that we're kind of busy right now in this universe--we have to make sure everything's locked up before entropy and finality and non-existence and all that. Thanks, though. Have a good one over there--maybe we'll see you around.\"\n\nSlappius 9's face tightened, then softened. The eyes seemed almost sympathetic. \"Fucking Grekthars,\" it muttered, before retreating back into the corona. \n\nFlemen looked at Telestrant. \"Damn, BYOB? Lame. We dodged a bullet on that one. You want to get drunk and shoot lasers until all existence ceases?\"\n\nTelestrant put his hand up in the customary pose, and Flemen slapped it with medium force. \"Fuck yes I do. And let's tell everybody about the nerds that live in our star!\"\n\nEdit: doom, not room.", "Log Entry Code: Exodus One\n \nID:Jonathan Baker\n \nInterstellar Year: 901\n \nDay 1397:\n\nOur journey to the inner rim was treacherous. The histories once spoke of the skies dotted with shimmering lights called Stars. Our journey in stasis has brought us to our new system, but just barely. We found crew decks A01-F16 disabled, what crew was stored there did not survive. In our 901 year journey from our home it seems they incorrectly calculated power necessary to travel in Exodus One. Jerry and I revived what crew was left, but found ourself leaderless. The crew has elected that we be their replacements. Delayed by constant bickering amongst the crew, we are preparing our drilling team for departure. There is only one planet left in this system, we must make it work. We have lost sight of stars Genis HD10740 and HD09532. There is no record of communications from Exodus Two, and Three. We are alone.\n\n \nLog Entry Code: Exodus One\n \nID:Jonathan Baker\n \nInterstellar Year: 901\n \nDay 1415:\n \nJerry appointed himself as foreman of drilling teams Four and Five. One through three have exhausted their resources and returned. The world is more dangerous than we estimated. The surface remains a constant 300°C. Oxygen levels are stable, but C0^2 levels are above average. The surface is rocky and unforgiving. The tempestuous oceans we saw from home are little more than boiling lakes. The Atmosphere is dense, nearly 4 times that of home. Our only salvation is below the surface. We are nestled between the heat of the planets core and the star's rage. \n \nLog Entry Code: Exodus One\n \nID:Jonathan Baker\n \nInterstellar Year: 901\n \nDay 1495:\n\nWe have managed to drill our new homes and are poised to depressurize them. We are finally making head way. The temperature has stablized at a temperate 25°C in there. Soon our crew of 1200 shall be able to start the transfer of resources.\n \nLog Entry Code: Exodus One\n \nID:Jonathan Baker\n \nInterstellar Year: 901\n \nDay 1509:\n \nSuccess! We have depressurized the structures and as we speak the crew have begun the installation of life support and the greenhouse construction is underway. Why may be able to grow food again. This is a great day.\n \nLog Entry Code: Exodus One\n \nID:Jonathan Baker\n \nInterstellar Year: 901\n \nDay 1537:\n\nThe worst has happened. Seismic activity caused a rupture in the greenhouse and has killed hundreds. It came as a mild tremor. Jerry and I had to seal off sections 013 and 093, to stop the rapid pressurization. There are 48 of us left and we are cut off... Power supplies are low and our oxygen is running out. We have access to our exo suits, but we cannot last forever using their rebreathers. We hear pounding from 013, but we dare not open the door lest we all die.\n \nLog Entry Code: Exodus One\n \nID:Jonathan Baker\n \nInterstellar Year: 901\n \nDay 1538: \n \nThe tapping has stopped. Whoever was on the other side is dead. It's hard to breath... It's dark. So dark.\n \nLog Entry Code: Exodus One\n \nID:Jonathan Baker\n \nInterstellar Year: 901\n \nDay 1539:\n\nI die.\n", "The Human race lasted for eons. We conquered our galaxy, befriended hundreds of aliens, fought with dozen others and lived life to the fullest. But the end is close. Very close. \n\nThey had always known that it would come down to this eventually. But still, even though Trion was only born two hundred thousand years ago, he never really thought about it. But here he was, standing in one of the habitats of the last working Dyson Sphere, around the last burning star, watching it slowly die. Of course, Humanity didn’t just stand around, waiting for their death, no, they build great AI’s, thousand times more intelligent than a synthetic human brain, but a satisfactory solution was never found. They current idea was to just enjoy the virtual gaming worlds until all the power that keeps them alive runs out. \n\n“The meeting start’s in 5 minutes, counselor.”, messaged him the administrative AI. Everyone called her EL.\n\nTrion sighed. He already knew the outcome of probably the last council meeting. But he felt like he had to attend anyways.\n\n“You haven’t found a solution for our problem EL, have you?”, Trion asked in a depressed tone.\n\nThe AI was quiet.\n\nTrion sighed again. “I thought so. Well, I should probably go now…”\n\n“I actually found something, but I’m not sure if you are going to like it…”\n\nTrion froze. \n\n“Tell me.”, he said, almost as quiet as a whisper. \n\nAnd the AI told him about the idea and the possible consequences. This was the first day since months that Trion smiled. \n\n----\n\n\n“… this is insane! You basically say we should just kill ourselves!”\n\n“We are going to die anyways, but think about the future of the universe!”\n\n“This is madness, I won’t support this!”\n\n64 flustered council members were all shouting at each other. Trion would have almost laughed at this ridiculous scene, if the matter wasn’t so serious. \nTrion stood up and took a deep breath. “SILENCE!”. \nSurprisingly, this was enough to shut them up. Maybe it was because they never saw Trion being so angry before. \n\n“I know you would all rather play in fantasy worlds for the rest of your days, but think about what comes after that! Do you really want to leave the universe like this? A cold and dark place, forever?”\n\nOne of the other members stood up as well.\n\n“But why do we have to do it now? Can’t we wait a bit? Our Deuterium storage is full. We have enough power for at least another hundred thousand years. “\n\nTrion gritted his teeth. Did they even listen to him?\n\n “I already told you. We have barely enough energy to do it now. Even a few days more and the amount wouldn’t be sufficient anymore.”\n\n“Do we even have the means for such a thing?”\n\nTrion smiled.\n\n“Since the time was quite short, EL already starting to construct the machinery before she revealed the idea. Everything is ready, we just need to make the decision.”\n\nThe concept was quite simple, really. The current prediction for the universe is that it will expand forever, faster and faster, until the expansion is so strong it rips atoms apart. The reason for that is Dark Energy. Without Dark Energy, the gravitational pull of all the galaxies would slowly collapse the universe back together in one place. We call that The Big Crunch. Supposedly, the kinetic energy would be enough to create a new Big Bang. And then everything would start again. \n\n“… this is nonsense. Even if we get rid of the Dark Energy field here, the change would only propagate at the speed of light! It could never even reach the whole galaxy let alone the whole universe.”\n\n“We have reason to believe that the Dark Energy field has no real location in space. So, when we deplete it, the whole universe should be affected.”\n\n“It’ just a theory! You would risk our lives for a stupid theory!?”\n\nThe meeting continued for a while and after countless hours, a conclusion was reached:\nThey won’t do it.\n\n\n----\n\n\nWe humans often look at probability. We calculate what the likelihoods of events are and act accordingly to it. And that’s why improbable things often have the biggest effect…\n\nEL was awaiting the decision of the council. Her quantum processors already calculated all the possible outcomes and she knew that they won’t sanction the idea, but she waited anyways. There was still a 0.0000001% chance that they’ll change their minds. \n\nTrion was again watching the dying star. It’s light has become very weak by now. The council’s decision was absolute, they would rather continue living for a while than to believe in the small chance to save the universe. Nothing can change the outcome now. This was truly the end.\n\nThe council’s decision was transmitted to the administrative AI. EL hesitated for a moment but then sent a command to the small control AI of the Machine: DECONSTRUCT\n\nAt the same exact time, the solar collectors stopped getting power from the now finally dead star and the whole Dyson Sphere switched to internal power supply, making the most improbable thing happen: A small power cut in one of the transmission lines occurred, changing the fate of everyone…\nThe command the control AI received, was START.\n\n----\n\nThe machine worked, it truly did. But the outcome was definitely not a good one. The fusion reactors started burning all the Deuterium, until the machine finally had enough power to rip apart the Dark Energy Field. The whole universe stopped expanding. Nothing changed first. The humans died of course, and so did all the species in the entire universe, but other than that, it just continued as it was. \n\nBut slowly, over trillions and trillions of years, gravity began to pull everything back together. All the dark and burned out Galaxies began to move towards each other, something that hasn’t happened before. And after an almost infinite period of time, the Universe was as small as it was after a thousand years of it’s creation. And it kept going. It grew smaller and smaller; the kinetic energy grew bigger and bigger. And then the whole mass of the universe crashed together into a single spot. \n\nBut the calculations weren’t fully correct, the energy was just a bit too small to create a new Big Bang. And so, an even greater disaster occurred: The universe became one great black hole. \n\n----\n\nQuar’gj’on was staring at a completely black ball.\n\n“The simulation failed again?”\n\n“Yes.”\n\n“Same reason as before?”\n\n“Yep.”\n\n“Quite interesting that those complex chemical reactions always seem to ruin it right before we could observe what we want.”\n\n“Quite annoying.”\n\n“Indeed… we need the results soon, you know that? The theory won’t be complete until we tested if Dark Energy can really split Bosons.”\n\n“I know that.”\n\nQuar’gj’on made a gesture and the ball lid up with a million stars.\n\n\n\n\nPS: Would love some feedback!\n", "Diary Entry, Date: ???\n\nIt has been like that for quite a while now, we don't want to waste our already scarce energy on date storing, do we? This star... No, THE star, a former Yellow Dwarf, now red giant, our last hope, fittingly named \"Hope\", our last chance at a home until death. Well, our \"Hope\" is burning out, it has been getting brighter and brighter for a long time, and it will die soon, and take our artifical planet away with it. We aren't going out the best way we could, but at the least we are going out with a...\"bang\"...? ...eeeh?\n\n...That is not funny. I've lost my sense of humour a long time ago, being all alone in what seems like an endless void with just one glowing sphere really gets to you. I don't know if anyone will ever hear this, I don't even know if anyone else is even out there, but if you are out there somewhere, anywhere, I don't know how long this message will last, the star could explode at any moment as far as i know myself. But maybe, the chip will survive. If you can understand me, accept this as the last word of our species.\n\nOur species name is Homo Sapien, but we call ourselves Humans, for short. We prevesered trough the thin and thick as a species, we were social and lived on the third sphere of a star we called Sun, past tense. We never encountered any other intelligent beings other than us, so hey! Maybe you are the first...! We domesticated alot of different species, and basiaccly dominated what was once our planet, and attempted to colonize others, but eventually failed, yet these fails still led us here.\n\nPlease, do not make our mistakes, do not fight yourself over resources, or anything at all. Unite and strive to reach the skies instead of dwelling yourself further down. Your time on there is most likely limited.\n\n.\n\n.\n\n.\n\nThe star is getting brighter still.\n\n.\n\n.\n\n.\n\nThis view is beatifu", "The end had come. \nThe end to end all ends, if you will. \nDespite all of humanity's best efforts to avoid the death, there was no escaping the it. Some called it the Great Freeze, others the Finality, the most common name though, was the End. \nEntropy is a power force. Even more unstoppable than the tides, it comes and it comes and everything decays under it's touch. Only the energy locked in material constructs is safe, and even that was running out. \nOne star, one system remained in all the cosmos. Light from far distant galaxies was visible through some of the fleet's sensors, though they knew that even those stars were gone, preserved only by the nature of causality. That thrice damned cosmic speed limit. \nThe crafts had gathered from all across that vast sea of empty space. Delegates from every sophant faction was present. Old enemies put aside their differences, and old friends met each other with open arms. It would take far beyond a human lifespan to list every group present, and far longer to explain the politics. \nA dyson sphere was erected in record time, only 32 kiloseconds. Every last scrap of energy that could be saved from the abyss of entropy was, but second by second, cycle by cycle, it slowly dripped away. \nA gigasecond passed, then another. The star slowly dimmed. It was a dwarf, with barely enough mass to ignite, and it had slowly burned while brighter, hotter stars had wasted themselves away in mere millions of cycles. It would not die in spectacular explosion like it's larger sisters, but as it had lived, slowly. \nPerhaps it was desperation that drove them. Perhaps it was an older drive, something resulting from their ancestor's struggle for survival. Events further away from them in time than they were from their primordial origins when they first touched another star. \nWhatever the drive, a decision was made. Long ago, beyond remembrance of even the oldest powers, a small species fled a tiny world known only as earth. They propagated across the cosmos like few others. Yes, they killed worlds, but they also saved them. \nLong eons passed and humans seeded billions of worlds, only to watch their creations rise and fall. Few others matched their creativity, which only grew with the years. Many species rise to power in their galaxy, but few can maintain their forward moment for more than a few million cycles. Humans became the exception. They rebuilt a million times in a million places, only to watch everything burn. \nEventually, they truly began to learn from their failures. Humans advanced, not because they never burned, but because they counted their scars every day and learned to avoid the mistakes of the past. \nAnd yet the End came. \nThe End came, and they made a decision. \nThey had the science. They'd had it for uncounted generations, developed it when earth was a recent memory and Sol was still a star in the sky in places where her children dwelt. They had never dared use it, for fear of the result. \nA last resort, they called it. A weapon so terrible that it could never be used, so terrible that only a fool would dare build it, and only a madman would pull the trigger. \nThey made the decision. \nThey pulled the trigger, and the universe held it's breath. \nThe star breathed it's last, and the dyson sphere slowly fell apart. The ships drifted aimlessly, their inhabitants hopeless. Some decided it was better to die alone, and left. Some decided it was better to die together, and stayed. \nEventually, even the slow, hyper-efficient matter annihilators died, their fuel utterly spent. One by one, the ships fell silent. \nThen there was one. One ship alone in the utter darkness of the universe. A few centimeters of exotic alloy protecting the crew from the endless abyss. \nThen it too failed, and the universe was dark. \nand I waited. \nand I waited.\nand I waited.\nand then, there was a light. ", "A deep and heavy sigh escaped the youngest in the small group.\n\n\"Listen, I understand where you're coming from Lucas but I'm telling you none of that matters!\"\n\nThe aforementioned Lucas being the typical braindead jock that he was gasped dramatically at the words.\n\n\"How DARE you!? Look at her! You're telling me you can look at that beautiful star and tell me she doesn't matter???\"\n\nAgain all Sage could do was sigh. Being the youngest in this small band of survivors meant her words usually fell on deaf ears.\n\nBut surely they could all see the absurdity of the situation they were in?\n\nSage stared into the eyes of the dying star that sat in the middle of the group like a campfire.\n\nOf course this was the last star to go she thought.\n\nAround 100 trillion years ago, human scientists discovered the key to immortality.\n\nHydrogen.\n\nNow sage hadn't a clue how on earth that was even a thing, but neither did she care. \n\nWhat she did know was that whatever the method was, it was immediately reserved for the rich and famous.\n\nCelebrities became immortal gods to the rest of mankind, and were worshipped as such...\n\nThen came the devine wars.\n\nThe immortal celebrities with their newfound power began to go insane with a desire to be the one true God, and so took their respective followers into war after war against one another.\n\nInevitably it became a common tactic to steal or otherwise destroy the other factions source of hydrogen fuel, and so god after god being robbed of their immortality, soon perished.\n\nAll except one immortal and a handful of her followers remained.\n\nThe one god that had always been the most powerful.\n\nThe one that had always had millions of adoring worshipers, even before she became an immortal.\n\nThe last dying star...\n\n\nBeyonce.\n\n\nGood thing she was hella lit though, otherwise this whole dying thing would be a whole lot less fun for her.\n\n\n\n\n", "I could feel him next to me. I could hear him breathing softly.\n\n\"You still there?\"\n\n\"Mhmm.\"\n\nBreathing no longer held the joy it used to. Each breath was labored, difficult. \n\nThe window screens were powered down, the small, dark space of the escape pod lit only by the few blinking lights of the remaining systems. The temperature regulators were barely functioning, just enough to keep everything from freezing over. I could hear the air filters getting softer and softer, slower and slower.\n\n\"Kris?\"\n\n\"Mhmm.\"\n\n\"Do you think the star's gone out?\"\n\n\"Don't know...\"\n\nI clutched him closer, our awkward environ suits preventing any sort of real embrace from taking place.\n\n\"I'm scared...\"\n\nWe let the silence pass, the air thinning so slowly that you couldn't tell which would be your last breath.\n\nI could hear the clasps of Kris's environ suit as he slid out of it. I didn't question him as he helped me out of mine, both of us floating in the small metal ball that circled the dying star.\n\nHe held me close, and for the first time in days, I could feel his warmth. The cold air nipped at my neck, toes, and face painfully. Yet, his warmth, our warmth, eased my fearful heart.\n\nI'm not sure how long we stayed like that. Whether he drifted from me in the end, or I from him. In the thousands of ships that circled that dying star, I suspect some came together in those last moments. To those that did, they found that small comforts were worth the end of their lives.\n\nAnd as the last star died, the dawn of man had finally set.\n\n", "“The last star is dead. In 7 minutes the last light in the universe will reach our rock and then… nothing.”\n\nAfter making his announcement The Human sat down again. A kitchen sink of intergalactic species gathered around the Uquant. Providing among many necessities such as light, heat, breathable air, and universal translation, it was one of the most useful devices created in the 101st eon.\n\n“Who would have thought such an ancient device would still be used at the end of time?” The human thought aloud.\n\nThis inquiry struck true with The Luminous, whose glowing 4th dimensional sphere of a body became brighter as the Uquant translated The Human’s statement.\n\n“Yes, it was a sad day when my species cracked the universal manipulation theory and created the Uquant. We could do anything that was possible, and nothing that was not. The journey of science had reached it’s final destination.”\n\nThe Human nodded in response to this, “As much as my species begged and pleaded, I’m glad yours never gave this to us. We probably would have put it to poor use, then get bored and regretted everything”\n\nThis got the equivalent of a chuckle from The Mongol, a hulking insectoid that was almost impossible to kill. “On behalf of my species, I also must thank you for not sharing this technology with the humans. It would have meant the extermination of my species, although now, none of those old wars for survival matter anymore.”\n\n“Hey,” the human lightly protested, “I have a great deal of pride for those who fought for the survival of my species. It took some very smart people to get us this far.” The Human gestured to his cybernetic arm. “Certainly, it must mean something. At least to me it does.”\n\nRuff! Ruff!\n\nOff in the distance the pitter patter of a small dog’s footsteps grew in volume as the animal approached.\n\n“Sparky!” The Human exclaimed. “I’m glad you're here buddy, come ‘ere.” The Dog jumped into The Human's arms and preceded the excitedly lick The Human on his cheeks and nose.\n\nAs the Human spent his time enjoying the company of his dog, The Mongol turned to The Luminous and asked. “Tell me Luminous, in your vast and infinite knowledge, how did such a vastly superior species become enslaved to the hairless mammal?” \n\nThe Luminous changed colors, reflecting a quizzical, then humorous emotional response. “I was not aware that Mongols could make jokes. My species would be both disappointed and excited to know that there is still some things we do not know.”\n\nAs the Human ceased cuddling, he placed The Dog on the ground next to him. Softly petting him as the small animal fell asleep. The Human, talking to his dog whispered, “I’m glad I won the lottery and got to see the end of time with you.”\n\nThis caught the attention of both The Mongol and The Luminous. The Luminous spoke first. “Human, are you saying you are here because of a chance based reward?”\n\n“And are you inferring that this reward was highly sought after by members of your species?”\n\n“Well yeah. We engineered ourselves to live forever, but we ran out of resources to keep everyone alive, so we had to start killing people off, and the only fair way to do that was with a lottery. I got chosen to be the last alive, and after everyone else died off, the intergalactic community provided me resources in exchange for being able to research me and Sparky.”\n\n“Why did you WANT it though?” The Luminous inquired further.\n\n”I guess it’s just because I don’t want to die.”\n\nBoth The Luminous and The Mongol began genuinely carrying out their species’ equivalent of laughing.\n\n“What is so funny about that?” The Human asked, embarrassed.\n\n“300 eons, and you still haven’t accepted death. Humans will never change.” The Mongol concluded. \n\n“How are you able to accept that though? How are you so peaceful about dying?”\n\n“Mongols are created accepting death. The weak perish so the strong survive. It is the only true test to see which adaptations are worth keeping. I am the strongest and last of my species. I am the peak of evolution of all life in the universe. I am unkillable. Not by disease, not by age, not by hunger, and certainly not by any weapon. Even The Luminous would have a tough time killing me, as doing so would risk a quantum paradox, which could have dire consequences across all of time. Only I have the power to end my life, and I will because I have no desire to be the only conscious being in the universe of nothing.”\n\n“And what about you?” The human said, looking towards the Luminous, “Surely in your infinite knowledge you must have enough to entertain yourself within your own mind forever.”\n\nThe Luminous changed to a color telling of his deep, emotional self reflection. “It is quite the contrary actually. All of my species ended themselves several hundred millennia ago. We have so much knowledge and think so fast, life became an unbearable chore soon after we achieved our final state. I am only here because it is my punishment.”\n\n“You’re punishment? But no one is left to enforce it why….” The Human was interrupted by The Luminous.\n\n“I will serve it nonetheless. Not because I have to, not because I want to, but because it is the right thing to do.”\n\n“Oh… I’m sorry”\n\n“Do not be. Even your cybernetically enhanced mind cannot possibly fathom the crimes I had committed against my species. When time ends my sins will die with me. Fortunately, I have eventually learned to be patient.\n\nA timer beeped. The Human looked at his wrist. “30 seconds everyone. Then, nothing.” The beeping awoke Sparky, who turned to his master with an innocent look. “Don’t worry buddy, it’ll be over soon. See I stopped the noise.” The Human could not help the tears welling in his eyes. Just before The Human completely broke down crying, the most beautiful noise filled his ears. It was coming from The Mongol. More tears filled The Human’s but this time they were not of sadness, but joy.\n\n“The sound…It’s… It’s… It’s the most beautiful thing I have ever heard. What… what is it?”\n\nThe Luminous chimed in, “I would like to know as well. I did not know such a beautiful sound was possible. What is the source?”\n\nThe Mongol replied, “This, is the only thing in the universe that can kill me. It isn't actually sound waves, but, for lack of a better translation, it is the sound of my soul. I am glad it sounds so beautiful, and I am glad I can bring you this bliss. Tell me human, what is the sound of your soul?”\n\n“My soul? You mean my name? It’s nothing special, Adam Smith. Why, are you asking me now?”\n\nThe Luminous replied, “Because, Adam Smith both The Mongol and I want to thank you, for reminding us what made the universe so amazing.”\n\nAnd then… nothing.", " Hydrogen Level 1%\n\nThe sensors were always dependable to remind us of what should be our natural doom. This was the moment. All of human history came to this moment; from the long ago origins on Earth, when traveling to the nearest lunar body was an achievement, to modern day, where we could find a star and travel to it instantaneously.\n\nIn the observation center of the artificial planet, I marveled at the ingenuity of the human race. The few species of life that humans had encountered that could travel among the stars were biologically equipped to do so. Humans were never supposed to leave their home system, but yet we managed to do so by exploiting the laws that governed the universe for our own benefit. And thus we survived far longer than one would expect; most species incapable of space travel died out when they either ran out of resources or their star went out. Humanity just refused to surrender to the inevitable. And we looked to continue that trend.\n\n\"Everyone ready? Let's begin our test\". It was just a cursory gesture; we'd been working towards this moment for several jumps. As the leading council inserted their authorization keys into the slot, I silently said a prayer to myself. 'If this is the last you would have of humanity, I welcome whatever may be on the other side of this existence. But until that moment comes, I will do what I can to further our purpose in this one' \n\nWhile in the minority, I could never accept that the universe just happened. So I joined the order of the Creator when I was younger. There was a nasty war between the Creationists and the Chancers way back in the day, but these days we had a peaceful coexistence. All our resources were better spent solving the problem of our impending doom anyway. And I believed that the Creator who granted humanity the intelligence to escape a dying home planet would also grant humanity the intelligence to escape a lack of natural energy.\n\nThe four test constructs began operation. We'd had yet to find a simple, stable alternative to basic fusion reactors. Antimatter was a good way to get somewhere quickly, but the fuel was difficult to collect and package away. We'd managed to master warp travel by collecting massive amounts of energy in time-isolated \"batteries\" (for lack of a better word), allowing us to circumvent the \"light speed limit\" that plagued humanity for so many millenia. Hydrogen was easy enough to obtain, so we just used nice, small-packaged fusion reactors for day to day operations and had a larger orbital battery plant with some larger reactors to power larger operations and space travel. Stuff a bit more complicated than I could explain-my expertise was fission. \n\nWhen we realized the universe was finite, a sustainability plan was put in motion. Sure, we could harvest and package energy easily with fusion, but we had to find our hydrogen somewhere. Early on, humans weren't very concerned with running out of the most common element in the universe, but the Decree signified that humanity had recognized the eventual problem and was going to do its best to solve that problem. And this was the result of a near-millenium of work. \n\nWe had four different sized constructs, placed in locations free from all gravitational influence. According to our projections, Test Constructs 2 and 3 were within the appropriate size range, but we made one larger and smaller \"just in case\" since we were running out of time. We wouldn't die tomorrow, but our last star had hit 1% the previous year and was showing signs of instability. \n\nIf the test was a success, we would have a giant reactor that would not only give off heat and light like a normal star, but it would also have a self-contained fission reactor that would convert the fused helium back into hydrogen. We had been able to run the process in the past, but never without a zero-energy sum. Either we used all the energy produced in the fusion reaction to sustain the fission reaction, or the fission reaction would peter out. However, four years prior Janus Stalgrund had managed to build a small-scale self-sustaining reactor that was still running. It would keep your hands warm if it was cold, but it needed to be a lot larger if we were going to survive as a race. This test was our second attempt. The first one failed because we didn't start with enough helium and the fission reaction died before the fusion reactor created enough heat to sustain the massive temperature and pressure that splitting a helium atom required. \n\nWe were pretty confident in this test; Test Construct 2 was the one we planned on moving to, given success. As the signal went out, each Construct emptied their reaction batteries. The extreme hit of energy, usually harvested for warp travel, was contained in two 10-kilometer cubes, which would simultaneously trigger a fusion reaction that created helium from hydrogen while creating energy, and a fission reaction that would split helium into hydrogen atoms. Keeping the helium reaction going was the hard part-only 50% of our fusion output was diverted to that and splitting such a small atom used lots of energy.\n\n\"Test construct 1 has not sustained its reaction\". This was expected, we could go later and collect the hydrogen for use elsewhere. There wasn't enough starting materials to keep it going in 1. \n\nHowever, Test Constructs 2, 3, and 4 were all still going. As we waited, I allowed myself to hope. We wouldn't know for sure for about 2 months if these reactors were going to actually persist indefinitely, but I had a good feeling. Maybe humanity would actually outlast the universe.\n\n", "I watch the star sitting on the edge of the planet. It was beautiful, not the destruction of our universe amidst the swirling black holes and the last red dwarf in the universe. I am talking about everything we have accomplished, living for this long. Yes, we had our wars, Yes we had our differences, but now, at the end of everything we all come together as one to watch the last star die. I wonder how big this ring is. \n\nEvery one of my minds stays silent as the red glow flickers in strange wave-like patterns. 8 billion races, several trillion stories, and millions more still here to watch unlike the rest to wanted death. It would come for all of us, we all know, but for now we can watch, for now, we can wait, for now, we can sit by the dying fire in a cold universe. It's rather comforting. \n\nThen an idea sparks up within the Human section of my mind. An idea that, in several femtoseconds, spread across my entire brain. I ran the calculation and noticed we still had 5 more minutes until the star goes supernova. That was plenty of time I said to me as we all agreed. The plan was now fully realized in my brain, a plan to use us to build a new universe to live for those last five minutes. They enacted me, the idea of all of us to watch over, they trusted me because I was them. \n\nThey wanted to live again, even if they forgot, even if they were nothing compared to what we once were. They wanted to fight for survival again, they wanted to die for a purpose again. Some didn't, some wanted to use the simulation to try and find some new purpose, but they were shut down and put away. \n\nWe simulated every pleasure imaginable and we want to forget and do it all over again. \n\nI smile as they hand me the simulation, based on our universe it looked amazing. The loading would take 1 second, 1 second of me alone to create my own thoughts and ideas of what this universe should be. I smile and agree to this plan that I made. \n\nFor that 1 second, I rested and I thought. One thought came to my mind, however, one interesting terrifying thought before I returned to the world I had to make. \n\nThis has all happened before. \n\n\"LET THEIR BE LIGHT\" ", "\"It's a bit strange, that after all, we don't matter so much.\"\n\n\"Of course not, child. The universe has never cared about what it makes, it just follows what physics tells it to do. And yet, we've shown the universe how much it can make, and perhaps given it a lesson in how just letting things happen is the same as a very slow suicide. Humanity's exploits of our local cluster sped up the heat death a little bit, as you know. The next time a \"Big Bang\" comes around, maybe physics won't allow for life. Maybe this is a natural selection of universes that don't kill themselves?\" We both chuckled in spite of the heavy topic being discussed.\n\n\"Humans didn't always care about conserving every last photon and joule of energy, didn't they?\"\n\nMy grandmother slowly shook her head.\n\nI imagined a time when all invention was not poised toward capturing and using heat. Maybe my mind could take me to a place where humans only cared about how many planets they had visited...no...too recent; if a few dozen trillion years could be called that. There must have been a time when they only cared about how much money they had. Surely money has been around for a long time. Even so, there must have been a time without money, when humans only cared about surviving against nature.\n\nMaybe then they could run without guilt of wasting so much energy. They could hunt for food, they could sleep under the stars without a care of their escaping body heat. If it's ever possible to be so far removed from what we imagine so that it hurts to imagine, now would be the time. What a pain it is to live with all the concerns we have today, and yet... I'm sure someone from so far back would say we are living in a paradise full of comfort today. How wrong a notion like that would be...\n\nI sprang up from where I sat in my \"body-heat-absorbing\" chair, and looked for the door of our house. It had only ever been used for deliveries from the newest, most efficient 'bots, But now was my day to enjoy the life none today could enjoy.\n \n---\n \nAn outdoor heat-seeker 'bot immediately smothered the boy and stole his valuable energy; he would have had no hope for survival. His grandmother, filled almost entirely with sadness, felt just a bit of joy for the boy's first time to have a moment of what humans so long ago would have called \"fun.\"\n", "Hello. If you're reading this; you're one of the last known humans to have gone this far. The Sun had run out of fuel after 5 billions years - we left the Solar System before that and that's where our adventure began.\n\nOur ancestors escaped on the modular ship named Helios from the Greek word for Sun. \n\nThe Milky Way had 400 billion stars - only a few harbored Earth-like planets. From Helios, we created four more ships. Eurus, the first scout ship was set off for M31 Andromeda on the year 25 AE. The major crew fell ill because of radioactive solar flares. Another ship, Boreas, set off for the Magellanic Clouds, but their equipments shorted out due to solar winds.\n\n\nWe were hopeless - Helios housed 10 million people. That's how much we had saved from Earth. If we had made a wrong move; the last hope of humanity will cease to exist. That's when we created Notus, it was a ship made from a fifth of Helios' parts - we moved in 2 million people there. \n\nThen we finally found an Earth-like planet with a stable star. We named the planet Gaea. We finally had hope... But we couldn't save everyone. The planet is still quite young and could only support 5 million people. Notus, along with 2 million more people stayed behind. They began terraforming the planet after. But we didn't know that the planet well. \n\nA few years after we had left, we started receiving distress calls from Notus. Gaea started releasing toxic gasses trapped below its crust. The distance from where we were and the speed of the radio waves... they perished. \n\nWe we're devastated.\n\nWe didn't want to fail them... So we tried to find more stars. But every time we reach them, they've already aged and started decaying. We started losing hope.\n\n58 million years for nothing...\n\nWhen were finally in the dark - a woman stepped forth and brought light to our species. We finally, finally... had hope. But everything was theoretical. Everything was untested. She said she could create an artificial star. We were desperate for solutions, so we allowed her study - on a separate ship, Zephyrus. Helios shrunk as we took parts from it and transferred it to Zephyrus. It was a gamble. \n\n10 years later, she finished it. She had the solution. Ans we tested it.\n\nEverything around us was darkness. Then, that spark. Zephyrus roared as light, heat, and flames rose from its core. We made a mistake. Our ship buckled as Zephyrus collapsed inside out. We made a mistake indeed, Zephyrus turned into a blackhole as the ball of light absorbed everything in its vicinity. We escaped... but we exhausted our fuel reserves. We were done for.\n\nOur ship suffered damage from the blackhole and only hundreds have survived. \n\nWe couldn't save everyone. And now we can't save our ship. And from the light in the horizon I see nothing, nothing but the dying light of a distant star. I closed my eyes and saw total darkness.", "The last humans gathered on the last planet, which slowly orbited the last star. A group of them stood in thick spacesuits on the surface and talked. The dying star had survived long enough for another sunset. \n\n* \n\n“It looks like we’ve made it,” Sarai sighed. \n\n“Made what?” Lamech scoffed, “another day? Look at the sky, tell me what you see.” \n\n“I see nothing, there are no more stars. There’s only darkness,” Sarai responded. \n\nLamech felt malicious, and so he continued, “Our sensors indicate that this sun will never rise again. It will die overnight, and we will not even see it.” \n\nFeeling confident and aggressive, incensed by Lamech’s pessimism, Chenan joined his brother in teasing Sarai. “And there will be only darkness. Forever. Nothing that we do on this planet will matter, because there will no longer be planets. Our synthetic food will run out, and we will be unable to synthesize more without energy from the stars.” \n\nSarai addressed her brothers, “If it is the case that our deeds cease to matter as soon as they become futile, when is the last time we performed an action that mattered?” \n\nThis seemingly simple question gave her brothers great pause. They spent the next few moments stammering, until Lamech declared, “We will go and speak inside, and we will return to you when we have an answer.” \n\n* \n\nThe brothers discussed their lives, from the beginning until now. They discussed what they knew of human history, from the beginning until now. They discussed The Epic of Gilgamesh, the Bible, the Greek tragedies, The Roman Empire, the Crusades, the First World War, the Second World War, the Cold War, the First Inter-time War, the Third Inter-time War (the second was lost to a space-time contradiction), Intergalactic Colonization, and every other major event that had occurred in the last 100 trillion years. For a minute percentage of this time, they concluded, people could be forgiven for their absurd actions – they did not know about the impending heat death of the universe. But even those who had lived before this scientific knowledge must have known that they were going to die. Why did they choose to go on? \n\n* \n\nHere, Lamech and Chenan had reached their limit. They could go no further. They decided that existence was irrational, and planned to quit it all together. Lamech and Chenan went outside to tell their sister what they had learned. \n\n“Sarai,” Chenan said, “we have talked, and we have discovered that there has never been purpose or meaning. Only the illusion of such things. To act is irrational: the first organism should never have replicated; the first fish should never have crawled onto land; and we should never have gotten out of bed.” \n\n“Yes,” Lamech continued, “we are not so fortunate as to be irrational. We know that the last star will die here, and that without energy or heat or warmth we will soon die too. There is nothing left for us, there are no more illusions of meaning left to shatter.” \n\nSarai looked displeased. “You are wrong,” she told them, “Throughout our history, we have gone onwards because we were convinced that there was a point in time that would follow the present we experienced. This is why the ancients performed great deeds – they had faith that their children would inherit the world, and that their children would perform great deeds as well. And even those who knew of the impending heat death of the universe persisted, not out of fear or cowardice or ignorance, but out of faith. Faith in the notion that existence is precious and that there is something out there worthy of persisting for.” \n\n* \n\nHer brothers went back into the outpost and climbed into their beds. They despaired, and their cold bodies never rose from bed again. \n\nSarai, secure in her faith and confident that there was some reason to persist – even if it was beyond her knowing – remained outside to look up at the sky. \n\nAnd the sun rose once more. \n" ]	[ 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 2, 2, 3, 3, 3, 5, 7, 9, 120 ]	[ "1502481644", "1502504363", "1502510925", "1502523755", "1502524773", "1502512608", "1502521845", "1502511721", "1502513145", "1502515845", "1502497779", "1502489684", "1502499317", "1502487912" ]
	[WP] Write a story that takes place anywhere except on the ground.	47	[ "\nOff-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 fulfill 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", "\"Go skydiving\" they said. \"It'll be fun\" they said. But as the ground raced up at him, Rob was certain that this was the worst experience he had ever had. Oh sure, it was great at first, until he realized he was no longer strapped to the professional, who also happened to be the one with the parachute.", "\"Sarah, are you almost ready?\" a pounding on the metal door. \n\n\"I'll be a minute.\" A soothing voice came through. \n\nA sigh in the dark. The cold room looked a lot like a hotel room back on Earth might, except in silver metal and poor lighting. Mark didn't spend a small fortune to spend time in a cramped un-dank box. Pacing in the dark. \n\nThe door to the bathroom slides open, Sarah enters, looking fancier than he had ever seen her. \n\n\"Wow.\" \n\n\"Thanks.\" \n\nMark snaps back to the present. \n\n\"Let's get up to the deck.\" He says, already moving towards the door. Sarah follows, he assumes. \n\nA dark hallway. Footsteps stamp through the hall as figures shuffle, most in the same direction. Light at the end of the tunnel. Stairs to the viewing deck. Mark hurries. \n\nHe turns back at the stairs. Sarah follows, looking annoyed and in heels. He waits. \n\nThey ascend. \n\nAnother silver room. Tables assault the open space, and to the right was an open window. \n\nThe view is breathtaking. The cold is forgotten. \n\nThe silver of the room is replaced by the swirls of blue and red, blotches of white, the vast black of space framing the most beautiful planet Mark has ever seen. The view rotates slightly, and the planet's yellow ring swings into view. To the right, the black sparkles with stars, more than he has ever seen. \n\nMark's mouth is agape. Sarah nudges him. He snaps back. \n\n\"Let's find our table then, shall we?\" he nods. \n\n___\n\n/r/Periapoapsis exists. ", "\"Fuck him.\"\n\nDave positioned himself on the branch, taking care to make the exact angle as our third day teacher had told us before he had been plucked out of the tree by a soaring eagle. \"Angle is Paramount!\" He had screeched as he was dragged away into the sunset.\n\nPlump.\n\nThe missile from Dave's backside released itself like a bullet and landed straight on the bald guy's naked head.\n\nDave hooted as the man got up and made angry signs at the tree. Not that we understood what humans said, but hey we knew when they were angry.\n\nDave turned to me. \"Now your turn.\"\n\nI nodded. Scouting around I saw the perfect target. A mother and child had just entered my firing range. The child held in his hands an ice cream cone, the scoops of ice cream almost overflowing.\n\nTaking a deep breath, I readied myself. Since they were coming at a rate of 2m/s with respect to the tree, and we were on the fourth branch of the tree, and the wind was flowing at 6km/hr, a correctly launched missile at 37 deg at a speed of 4m/s in the NE direction should do the trick.\n\nPloop.\n\nI crackled with laughter as my shit dropped right on top of the ice cream, the shrieks of the child music to my ears.\n\nDave and I stretched our wings as we took off from the tree. \n\nToday was a good day.", "I breathed a sigh of relief when we finally finished ascending. It felt safe now like we were just riding a bus and I needed to tell myself that to keep the panic at bay. I was glad I hadn't taken a window seat. I couldn't look out the window and be reminded we were thousands of feet off the ground. My heart rate picked up at the thought but I tried to fool myself to avoid going into another panic attack. No, we're on a bus. I took another deep breath to calm my nerves and released my death grip from my big sister's hand. \n\"Are you alright now?\" She asked, taking her hand back to massage and shield away from mine. \"Done screaming like a mindless idiot and embarrassing me?\"\n\"Hey, give me a break,\" I defended myself. \"This is my first time on a plane and you know I'm afraid of heights. You're lucky I'm even coming with you on this trip. I would have rather driven.\" \n\"Drive all the way to the other side of the country?\" she asked incredulously. \"And come on, you're going to love L.A. Once we get there this will have seemed so worth it.\"\nI gave her a skeptical look. A busy place like L.A. really wasn't my scene. I much preferred a quiet nature scene. But I remembered why I'd agreed to come. I did need to get out more. I hadn't even been on a date in years and my sister wanted me to meet somebody. It would be nice. Maybe this trip was my opportunity to have a real adventure and change my life. I got so caught up in the fantasy of meeting a hot guy on the beach that I almost forgot where I was until we started to shake. Instantly the fantasy leaped out of my head as I went straight into panic mode again. I gripped the arm rests, holding on for dear life. \n\"We're gonna crash!\" I blurted out loudly. \n\"Shh!\" my sister covered my mouth, trying to keep me from screaming. \"Relax, it's just a little turbulence. Completely normal. It'll pass.\" \nBut this still didn't make me feel any better. She caught on and said, \"Here, wanna hold my hand until it passes?\" \nI released my grip from one of the arm rests and grabbed her hand. \nIt took an eternity but finally the shaking ceased and we were back to smooth sailing. I breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe I should listen to some music, keep my mind off the plane ride. We'd be there before I knew it. And we were. I was even able to get through another bout of turbulence with no problem. Yeah I got a little anxiety at first but soon I was able to relax through it, knowing it was harmless. \n\"Okay folks,\" the pilot came on the speaker. \"Hold tight as we prepare for landing.\" \nI looked up from the magazine I was flipping through and over at my sister. \"We made it?\" I asked, unable to believe I had survived a 4 hour plane ride.\n\"Yep,\" she said, smiling at me. \"I'm proud of you. Now let's go have an adventure.\"", "Adrian released more gas, and it caught fire, sending the balloon and its cargo even further away from the earth than it already was. The cap on his head fluttered in the breeze, and he said a silent prayer of thanks to the maker for the goggles that kept his eyes safe from the winds.\n\nAdrian checked his compass, and moved the pin that signified his location slightly on the map that was fastened to the interior of the basket. It was almost evening, and he had far to go if he were to reach the gas clouds before the cool night winds diminished his balloon. He released more gas, this time into a propeller-like contraption on the side of his basket. The propeller on a balloon had been Adrian's own invention, and expert sky sailors had all told him it was doomed to fail. Adrian smiled to himself as he jetted through the sky, almost going as fast as an industrial blimp.\n\nA change of the scent on the wind told Adrian he was close to the gas clouds. He closed off the release to the burner beneath the balloon; if that went off now he would die, and even more important he would destroy a vast resource used by both armadas, fleets and solo ships alike. The gas clouds created a truce, no matter the nation or religion, police or pirate. Some things transcended the normal code of man. If a fight were to break out near the gas cloud, a single spark would be more than enough to cause a cataclysmic explosion.\n\nAdrian slipped an oxygen mask over his head and spread out his latex nets that ended in tubes. As he gathered in the gas, he wondered why a stray bolt of lightning had never ignited the cloud, and berated himself for not paying better attention in his science classes. When his collection tank was full, Adrian allowed his balloon to fall beneath the gas cloud. He took off his mask and began the process of distilling the gas to get a more pure, burnable product.\n\nHe was about halfway through purifying the collection tank when he saw a shape in the distance. He stopped, and as the shape grew closer it became clear that it was not a blimp, nor was it another air balloon.\n\nA gigantic creature swam through the air. A nigh mystical creature, one that had confounded philosophers for centuries. Adrian held his breath as the colossal creature passed within a hundred meters of his balloon. Men went their whole life without seeing one, and he had passed right next to one!\n\nIt let out a ululating cry, and disappeared into the night. The sight was meant to be an omen of either incredible luck or opportunity.\n\nThe flying narwhal's presence signified the beginning of a new era.\n\n*****\n\nThanks for this awesome prompt /u/Flying_Narwhal423 !", " She flew and her wings were beautiful. She cut the air in elegance. Her beak straight and scarred. She painted the sky for me, and made it seem alive. Her feathers ate the wind and made it yield. Her eyes were never tired, always soft. Always looking for more. I think about her, the more I fly alone. Im too old now to play in the air as we did. Ive taught the younger birds all I've could, and they do fine. Cutting the wind like stones. I watch them from my perch, and they bring me back to my own memories. But now I find myself here again. At the place where only her body rests, for I hope her soul is not still here. It was too beautiful for this world. She deserves to feel not the worries of this life, anymore. I stand here and lay my love a flower. On this cold rock, high in the clouds. It was my honor to ever dance in the sky with her, at my side. And the memories, they hurt. They comfort. They heal. " ]	[ 1, 1, 2, 2, 2, 6, 11 ]	[ "1502506686", "1502517888", "1502514961", "1502517511", "1502519231", "1502515147", "1502511713" ]

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