post_text stringlengths 0 17.5k | post_title stringlengths 4 315 | post_scores int64 0 42.1k | comment_texts list | comment_scores list | comment_times list |
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[WP]Most of the worlds you have passed are uninhabitable rocks. One day, however, you discover a planet that is so very habitable, it makes the Earth seem like a barren wasteland by comparison. | 4 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"Captains log date 4 october 2175.\n\nI am almost in range of the last world in my assigned chain. If this isn't a habitable planet my ship will be remotely detonated. \n\nOn monday when the first tests roll in, the tests are inconclusive. But after getting closer everyday the final long range tests come in. \n\n''Captain Buzzwack to motherbase. Captain Buzzwack to motherbase,come in'' sayd Buzzwick.\n''This is motherbase. You are coming in loud and clear, send message''\n''i have encountered a habitable planet Sir.''\n''What is the Habitability factor of this planet captain.''\n''uhh sir... This planet has a 150% habitability factor.''\n''Get back home Buzzwick''\n'\"yes sir.''"
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[WP] Every night, the kindly old wizard sets up dreamcatchers over the children's heads. Every morning, before dawn, he gathers them up and scrapes them off into a little bottle. | 22 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"The village of Osuto sleeps. \n\nDeeply. \n\nSoundly. \n\nMagically so, actually. \n\nThe next morning people will comment on it at work, saying things like \"Gee, i slept well last night\" to their friends and co workers. Coffee intake will see a minor dip across the realm, and retail workers - although they don't know it yet, are about to have a good day. \n\nUnbeknownst to them, a sinister and mystical force is responsible for their good nights sleep ; The refreshment, the lack of bleariness, This is is the calling card of the Dream thief wizard. Its not very sinister, but its a calling card nonetheless. Its been happening for the last Eight years. People are unsure why, but hey. a good nights sleep is always welcomed. \n\nIt would be great to say that he moved through the night like smoke on the breeze. Greater still to say he wore a cloak so grey, so nondescript - that the minds of regular folk simply refused to comprehend such a colour. \n\nOr perhaps that his staff contained the essence of a Demon. That's the kind of wizard that people will say \"Of course he could put a whole kingdom to sleep, did you see his staff? got a demon in it you know\"\n\nNone of this applies to the dream thief wizard Matthew. Who was of the mind that if he really was moving about unseen, then he could be comfortable. \nWorn tracksuit pants hide themselves beneath a faded green poncho. Its not a widely known fact that the common poncho promotes mana flow better than a hooded cape. \nHis staff, originally a broomstick, has a talisman dangling from it. Those who know what it means, know the power this man wields. \n\nHe wanders through the still cobblestone streets like a man with a jaunty song in his head, and the night knows the soul soothing peace of deep slumber. Guards doze standing at their posts, regular - non magical thieves sleep in dens, curled up like cats. \n\nAnd the children sleep soundly, wreathed in the soft blue glow of the dreamcatcher spell. \n\nAs they sleep, they dream. \n\nBefore long he finds himself in the very center of the town. Nobody stirs. Matthew, dream thief, breathes deep. In the silence, he focuses. \n\nThe familiar blue glow of spent mana illuminates the mist, it mixes with the softness of the dawn light, creating swirls and lenses of such colour. be told there is nothing quite so beautiful as a magic suffused sunrise. \n\nHe pauses just for a second, placing his palms together, he conjures the first of many glass vials. Not many people know this, (including most wizards) The best glass in the world is conjured from the light of a sunrise. Stoppered vials fabricate from raw light, achingly thin, and unbreakable by normal means. From the recesses of his poncho he unfolds a square of fabric, which continues unfolding and is now the size of a picnic blanket - He lays it on the stone street and it hardens like wood. he places each individual vial with great care. They begin to glow.\n\nFinally he removes his hat. His blond hair waves and dances in the charged air. \n\nStanding tall, Above his head he swirls his staff, which is a broom handle from which a talisman dangles. The magic catches hold, ripples eddy and play through the spacetimes and subrealites, blurring the borders between them. From the blue lit windows across the village, golden threads flow. Before long Otsuo village is canopied by golden weave that shines like hope and promise made tangible. They work their way unbidden into the vials, filling each one in turn.\nThe dreams of children. \n\nSo pure. Untouched expressions of distilled joy. Unsullied by worry and strife, work, debts, failures and regrets.\n\nThe purest expression of innocence the multiverse has to offer. \n\nFifteen vials shine in the morning like, gleaming and golden - One catches his eye, So pale its almost white. minutes pass as he barely breathes - not daring to hope. \nThis could be the one. \n\nA casual observer, perhaps with a cloak of sleep protection - would have seen a man, fighting with his own feelings of elation. A man trying not to dance a jig on the spot.\nA man who fades into mist, as the sun crests the horizon. \n\n\nHours later a tavern door swings open, nobody watches the man in the poncho and track pants take a seat. Everyone knows Matthew. He's been here a long time. \n\nHe greets the woman behind the bar with a tired smile, She's dressed like a Valkyrie. She nods, no words need be said - Its a very special relationship between long term patrons and bar-staff. She pours a drink. Valhalla mead is the best for soul fatigue. \n\n'Dreamweaver...' A voice speaks from behind him. Matthew is known by many names - that is one of them. \nA tall man approaches, skeletal frame shrouded from beneath a blue-black hood.\n'Death...' He says with a nod of respect. 'Its nice to see you in a little bit of colour' \nDeath stands stoically. Expressionless. 'Well?' \n'A good haul, all golds - and... one white...'\n'White?' There is a note of surprise in his voice. \n\n'Its for her'\n\n'I understand... Fifteen will buy her another twenty eight days.' \n\n'... that's generous of you'\n\nFifteen vials are placed atop the bar, vials of pure dawnglass, containing golden dreams of children. Death swoops his cloak over top and they vanish. With that he turns on his heel and stalks away. \n\nMatthew goes back to his drink, Helga has supplied him with wordlessly. She speaks, her voice a blend of honey and silk.\n\n'Death likes you, Matthew - and what you're doing is a good thing' \n\nMatthew shrugs. 'A whole month is quite generous, what does he do with that stuff anyway?' \n\n'I hear he gives them to people who need it. People who are trapped in bodies that don't work anymore... one last taste of life. She says wistfully. \n\n'I also hear he has a special lady now... so maybe that's where this generosity comes from' \n\nWith that Matthew drains his glass. thanks Helga, and leaves the way he came. 'The love of the powerful is always cursed, Helga... Always' he mutters under his breath. \n\n\nA man stands in a private reality. A shrine, of sorts. A pantheon of stone is carved beautifully, decor Intricate and floral. Wildflowers grow everywhere lending the scent of life to the small realm. A woman sits in lotus pose, encased in white crystal. her hair fans out in blonde braids. Matthew chokes, briefly. 'Tilda, my love, I have bought another month...' He says softly. 'Thank you for keeping Sara alive' He kisses the glass softly. She neither hears his words, nor feels his kiss.\n\nA blue tendril of energy seeps from her, traces its way along the mossy rock, until it meets a dais, atop which a young woman lays in white linen. A string of flowers ring her forehead. This is Matthews curse. He pads softly, as though not to break her sleep. If only it was that easy.\n\nEight years had passed since Matthews curse. He had robbed a man of something precious. And that man had cursed him with his dying breath. \nHe had found that his daughter would not wake. The keys to breaking the curse, hidden in the dreams of children. \n\nThis was the fourth of five. He held the white vial up to the light, and unstopped it. A corona of raw energy exploded with a chorus of choir. The light settled across her skin. seeping in. She stirred in her sleep. The first time she had moved in eight years. She stopped. her breathing fell rythmic once more. \n\nHe wiped the tears from his face and steeled himself. \n\nHe had made a mistake. He was a little too pleased with himself and his power, such arrogance. He had worn the finest silks, and treated non magical folk worse than dirt. \nThe dreamweaver they had called him. And fate had seen it that he would watch as those he loved dearly were taken from him by a magic more powerful than his own. \n\nA new light pulsed on the surrounding stone. Leaving the last one blank. He could feel his resolve burning. \nHe would scour the earth, One sunrise at a time. \n\n\n"
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[WP] The Purge has begun. People usually waste this day, mindlessly killing each other. You, on the other hand, planned something much more sinister. | 1 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"For one day, crime was legal.\n\nThe intent was supposedly to let us \"get it out of our systems\" but everyone knew the real reason: those in power wanted to remind us what anarchy looked like so we would thank them when they sent us back into the totalitarian hell they built for us.\n\nBut as it happens, armed revolution is a crime. And on that one day, there was nothing they could do about it.\n\nIt took ages to prepare. We could only get our hands on untraceable guns durring the purge after all. But finally we are ready.\n\nI doubt they will go down without a fight, but today no law can be enforced so if we fail the only consequence will be any injuries we sustain in the fighting.\n\nWe might not get it this time. We might not get it the next. But one of these years the regime will fall, and both freedom and order will be available all year round."
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[WP] You never believed the common conspiracy that the world's a simulation until you start seeing pixels flickering | 5 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"\"D-do you see that?\"\n\nGreg was squinting a bit, looking off into the distance. I followed his gaze, not sure what I was supposed to be looking at.\n\n\"What? I don't see anything.\"\n\nHe stepped closer and pointed at a group of trees. \"That tree, right there. It looks like it's... Flickering. As if it's fake.\"\n\n\"Oh my god, Greg, you mean like a simulation? You can't possibly actually believe that!\"\n\nI turned to look at my friend, my mouth slightly agape. He was still staring at the tree with a concern in his eyes that sobered me.\n\nEveryone knew at least one crackpot who believed Earth was a simulation, a lot of times the same ones who believed in the Illuminati and lizard people. It's impossible to take them serious in any matter, knowing they firmly believe something so crazy. Seeing Greg say something so inane with such conviction really concerned me.\n\nHe had been under some extra stress from work lately, so it's possible he hadn't been taking care of himself. His eyes were probably playing tricks on him. *Still, that was nothing to take lightly. I should get him inside, for now, and call his-*\n\nRapid footsteps beside me broke my train of thought, and I whipped around to see Greg breaking into a sprint toward the \"glitch.\" I followed suit, trying to keep up.\n\nBy the time I got there, Greg was just staring at the tree with a horrified expression.\n\n\"I... I put my hand through it. Through the tree, Kay! I put my hand through the goddamn tree! All the crazies were right all along, Kay. This world is fake and no one else knows! We need to tell everybody!\"\n\nI put my hand against the tree and pushed lightly. The tree pushed back. There was nothing strange about it. I swallowed hard before turning back to Greg.\n\n\"Buddy, I think it's time you talk to someone. You're really scaring me. You're going to take tomorrow off work to rest, alright? I won't take no for an answer.\"\n\nHe looked like I had stabbed him in the chest.\n\n\"You don't... believe me?\" \n\nHis eyes pleaded for a different answer, but I was unable to give him any reassurance. I grabbed his hand and began to gently pull him away from the tree, and with one final look, he followed, a defeated expression on his face.\n\nA month later, I saw him on the news. Apparently, he had assaulted the mayor, shouting about conspiracies. He had been sent to a mental hospital, the poor soul.\n\nI was able to visit him that week.\n\n\"How are you doing, buddy?\" I asked Greg. He seemed a bit confused, and was restrained to his bed.\n\n\"Kay?\" he asked between shallow breaths. \"Are you here to get me out?\"\n\nI chewed my lip, trying to decide how to respond.\n\n\"I'm sorry Greg, but I think this is a good place for you right now. They'll help you feel better, okay?\"\n\nHis eyes took on some worry. \"No!\" he said, a bit louder, \"I'm not crazy! I set up a meeting with the mayor, to tell him that the world is fake, but when I got there, he said he needed to keep it quiet, and had me arrested! At the trial, they said I assaulted him, but I didn't, Kay, I didn't, and you should know that, because you know me! Don't you believe me? Listen to me, Kay!\"\n\nHe had begun to get more and more worked up, raising his voice and pulling at his restraints with severity. It scared me, not just for his sake, but for my well being. I couldn't believe this was what had become of my friend. An orderly had heard the ruckus, and came in to sedate him. She asked me to go home, and I happily complied.\n\nFive years later, Greg is still at the facility. I never visited again, thinking that my friend had truly lost his marbles, but now, I'm not so sure. Yesterday, I saw something that sent chills down my spine. A beautiful flower, right in the center of my garden, glitching."
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[removed] | [WP] You've conjured an Unfamiliar instead of a Familiar spirit,why did this happen? | 2 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](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/7hm8lm/wp_youve_conjured_an_unfamiliar_instead_of_a/%0A%0A)\n\n*This action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things.*"
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[WP] You are a guy on a bus eating a sandwich. Some guy sits beside you and accidentally knocks your sandwich to the floor. Oh boy are you ever upset about it. | 34 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"\"Oh my GOD! That was my fuckin lunch ya nitwit mongoloid dickhead,\" I practically snarled at the guy, leaning forward and hopelessly picking at the scattered remains on the bus floor.\n\nI scoffed in furious disbelief before straightening back up and taking a closer look at the stranger sitting beside me. It was a testament to how outraged I really was -- and a testament to the strength of the hangover storming my brain like the beach at Normandy -- that I didn't scream and scramble to a new seat immediately.\n\nOr off of the bus entirely.\n\nThe man sitting beside me *had no face*. No, that wasn't entirely true. As he turned towards me I saw that the left side of his face was still present; the right side of it which had been turned towards me was a worm-eaten, decomposed mess. As I watched the tiny ugly face of a ratlet peeked from the man's filthy, grime-filled suit pocket.\n\nThat was another thing. The guy was dressed like he'd just come from a wedding, that was my first thought. And my second was far more spine-tingling.. He also looked like he might have just come from a funeral. He looked a hell of a lot more like that.\n\n\"Have you..\" I cleared my throat, not liking how small, squeaky.. and scared my voice had sounded at first. \"Have you ever seen a movie called *The Dark Knight*?\"\n\nThe man stared at me, his left eye - it was a pleasantly light baby blue I thought to myself with a kind of hysterically insane nonchalance - blinking without concern. Meanwhile, there was a red ruin, an empty socket.. where his right eye should have been.\n\nI had been attempting to smile and make conversation for some reason.. Maybe my mind was still trying to reboot from a precautionary shutdown upon first seeing Mr. Two Face.\n\n\"Why so serious?\" this guy, this... impossibility croaked quietly with what remained of his lips.",
"In a sea of swirling depression, my turkey sandwich was my last salvation. It had been tenderly made with all the love I had left to give and then seasoned with kisses before I had stuffed it into a paper bag. I drew a heart on the front to pretend like I had a mother that cared enough to do the same.\n\nI decided to eat it on the way to school since the time I had spent making this perfection had caused me to miss breakfast. It's the biggest mistake of my life. \n\nTommy hopped onto the bus and made a beeline for the only seat still available- next to me. His hair was gelled and his ears were full of music. He tapped along to the beat blasting from his headphones and in his enthusiasm, his elbow knocked into me. I yelped and threw my hands up in defense like any reasonable boy should without considering what I had been previously holding.\n\n\"My turkey sandwich,\" I gasped when my fingers unclenched from around my hair. Bread, cheese, and meat, once ready for consumption, was now scattered across the bus's dirt covered floor.\n\nTommy looks at the ruined masterpiece, and then me, cringing. \"My bad, dude.\" Then he turned away, ignoring the repercussions of his actions.\n\nI open my mouth to scream or yell or maybe, for once, say something clever. \n\nMy teeth chattered close and I turned away too because, in the end, no words could describe the loss I felt.\n\nI mourned my turkey sandwich for the rest of eternity. \n\n--------\n\n*Bam. Done. Thanks for the fun prompt!*\n\n*Obligatory: Caaaaaan you feeeeel the eddggge toniigghht~*",
"*\"What have you done?\"*\n\n\"Oh geez I'm so sorry, that sandwich looked delicious I'll-\"\n\n*\"You have no idea what you've just done, do you?\"* \n\n\"I'll pay you back as soon as we're off the bus, I swear it was-\" \n\n*\"Those were my mother's ashes.\"*\n\n\"What?\"\n\n*\"When people die sometimes they get incinerated in a special oven instead of getting buried.\"*\n\n\"I'm aware what cremation is. But that was a just sandwich.\"\n\n*\"She's not JUST a sandwich she was my mother!\"*\n\n\"Jesus Christ dude were you going to eat your mother's ashes?\"\n\n*\"No you sick freak! My mother was interested in the dark arts so this was required\"* \n\n\"Wait wait, so she was going to curse you or something if you didn't put her in a sandwich.\"\n\n*\"No you idiot.\"*\n\n\"Well I'm lost.\"\n\n*\"Don't you see? My mother was a witch, so we cremated her in to sand and put her between two pieces of bread. She literally WAS the sand-witch.\"*\n\n\"Get help sir\" "
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[removed] | [wp] Benedict Cumberbatch, Tom Hiddleston, Tom Hardy, and Seth Rogen are chefs in Gordon Ramsay's kitchen. What's it like? | 1 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](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\nRepost without the \"What's it like?\" at the end, and it'll be good to go.\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/7hnri2/wp_benedict_cumberbatch_tom_hiddleston_tom_hardy/%0A%0A)\n\n*This action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things.*"
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[removed] | [WP] Dust on the Pearly Gates | 1 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"Hi there, this post has been removed.\n\nThe prompt should go into the title box, not the text box. \n\nThanks. \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/7hojxf/wp_dust_on_the_pearly_gates/%0A%0A)\n\n*This action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things.*"
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] |
[WP] He's known as the Red Fae, a benevolent entity tasked with guarding the sealed prison of an ancient evil that almost destroyed the world. His only issues are the dark creatures willing to stand in his way and you, an ordinary human just wanting to relax in a graveyard. | 1 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"There's no place more peaceful in the world to sleep at night than in a graveyard. It makes sense. Sleep is the cousin of Death, after all. So the more death surrounds you, the better you sleep, right? \n\n'Least...that was the case for *me* - Kenneth Yates, Kenny for short, Kanye for the ladies. In my many long years of graveyard napping, as long as you didn't stay in the graveyard past 12 midnight, you were fine. From 12 to 2 is when the weird stuff started happening.\n\nDespite my brilliant and logical explanation in the first paragraph, you may still be wondering why any one in their *right* mind would choose to sleep in a graveyard. Depending on the day and the mood I was in, you might receive several answers.\n\nIf it was a Monday and I was feeling snarky, I might tell you that I didn't have a right mind, but a left one. If you then asked me what *that* meant, I would be likely to snap at you and tell you to, \"Go figure it out.\" Or punch you in the face - depending on how big you were and whether I could out-run you if you didn't go down\n\nTuesday to Thursday was usually when I felt philosophical and would expound in profound, increasingly in- depth detail why my explanation in the first paragraph made sense - so much sense, in fact, that it was not *I* who was the one lacking the right mind, but that it was *you* who lacked the right mind for *not* choosing to sleep in a graveyard. I might end with something along the lines of, \"You sleep in that bed that you claim is so nice, warm, and comfortable...yet you wonder why you have insomnia,\" and then proceed to do a dazzling heel spin in your face and strut away.\n\nIf you asked me on a Friday, I would poignantly tell you of my troubled childhood, my abusive parents, my social anxiety and shyness, my frustration that my life seemed to be filled with too many moments of regret and boredom, and my fear that it would continue until the future. All things that were true, but only told to you because I was hoping that you would feel enough sympathy to invite me to drinks on Saturday. \n\nSunday I would be in church the entire day. Church is the second best place in the world to sleep. Not only do they feed you bread and fruit juice on occassion, but there's also the added benefit of people thinking you're praying. You can go to Church, sit in a corner, close your eyes, bow your head, and (as long as you don't snore) go to sleep, and never be disturbed. People must think I'm the holiest person in the world - or the greatest sinner in the world, as one old lady I overheard whisper to her friends, \"He must have done something awfully bad for him to always be praying like that. You'd think he was a demon that just found out he's getting thrown into the Lake of Fire, too.\"\n\nAnyway, back to the story. \n\nSo there was the Red Fae...\n\n...wait. Shit. Back it up a bit.\n\nSo twenty-one years ago, Mr. and Mrs. Yates had a son, and they named him Kenneth...\n\n...wait. No, that wasn't it. Sorry guys, let me get it together. I just had Finals week and those Finals were kicking my butt.\n\nOh, wait, that was it, I remember now. Okay, so *this* is where the story starts.\n\n*I just had Finals week and those Finals were kicking my butt...*\n\n...so after they were done, I needed to take a well-deserved, well-needed nap, and the best place to take naps are where...? Right. Graveyard. Way better than any student lounge at *any* college. Guaranteed.\n\nAnd I got my nap. The problem is I slept past 12. And like I told you in the 2nd paragraph, from 12 to 2 is when the weird stuff starts to happen. \n\nThe weird stuff started with me waking up and finding that I was sitting on the branch of a tree. Not, just any tree, however, but the tree that had been looming over me as I slept. I could see the faint outline of my body in the dirt below.\n\nNot too weird, right?\n\nOkay, well the second weird thing that I noticed was that there was a boy scrambling around on the limb below me like a baby Tarzan on cocaine. Back and forth, the boy moved like a spider with broken legs or a dying snake - jerking erratically one way and then the other - as if he couldn't control his own body. Several times he came close to tumbling off the edge.\n\nThe third weird thing...another boy. On the branch above me. Except there was no branch. This boy was balanced on a leaf. He was looking straight at me, with eyes so gray that I thought he was blind, until he lifted his finger to his lips in the universal gesture of *Shhh* when I opened my mouth to speak.\n\nThere was something about the boy - either his eyes or his manner - that immediately put me at ease. He was like a young Dumbledore. I closed my mouth. \n\nHe pointed to the boy that was going ape-shit on the branch below us, beating his chest, and pausing every five seconds to scream, though no sound came out. *He...*\n\nThen he balled his fist, stuck out his thumb, then drew it horizontal across his throat. *...will kill...*\n\nFinally, he pointed at me. *...you.* He nodded in what I interpreted as: *Do you understand?*\n\nI glanced at the lower branch. The boy had stopped going crazy and was now staring off silently into the distance. I shivered, and turned my attention back to the upper branch, where Gray Eyes was holding a belt.\n\nBefore I knew what was happening, the belt looped around my throat. My feet lifted off the branch. \"What are you- ?\"\n\nSomehow, I managed to roll my eyes back down to the lower branch. Ape Boy was slowly turning his head upward towards the sound of my voice. He found me and fixed me with a silent stare, and went so still that he could have been a statue. I realized, then, that he had no eyes. \n\nGray Eyes said, \"Trust me.\" And the belt grew tighter around my neck. I wheezed. Ape Boy tilted his head. I felt like fish bait. My legs dangled helplessly in the air as I flailed about, being manhandled by a...a...*kid.*\n\nI was seeing spots. I couldn't breathe. The world was closing in on me; a darkness as black as the two black holes Ape Boy had for eyes. \n\nApe Boy opened his mouth in that same silent scream. His body trembled. Veins burst out his neck. Pinpoints of red appeared somewhere deep in his eye sockets as if he were about to shoot laser beams at me.\n\nThen he leapt up towards me; his mouth gaping, sharp teeth going in spirals throughout his entire mouth. A shark's mouth. And I was the fish.\n\nI looked up. Gray Eyes was still staring at me. He said, \"Trust me.\" \n\nAnd I passed out.\n\n\n"
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1,
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"1512482290",
"1512488163"
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[WP] A murder mystery where every character believes themself responsible for the death, and tries to cover it up. | 12,858 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"Mrs. Robinson, she might have done it. She thought about the moment she gave him those beautiful flowers, oh had she known, oh had she chose the blue ones instead. In the end the cursed red things weren't that beautiful at all, as Mr. Portman had thankfully pointed out so ever discreetly to her at the right time to very calmly take them to not be noticed by the wrong eyes, Mrs. Robinson, someone could end in a horrible conclusion. And keep silence.\n\nLady Loveheart, oh she never expected him to react that horribly at the news of his lady mother's passing, perhaps she could have been more calm or more soft, perhaps she should not have spoken a word until later, much, much later. Thankfully, only Mr. Portman knew about her giving Lord Fortman the news, and she assured her not a word would be spoken, and insisted her to do the same.\n\nThough everyone had their own reasons to believe themselves guilty, Mr. Portman had a strange certainty that he was the one, but he made sure that his suspicious silence would not stand out from the other, oh no. This was his circus, but he was just another clown.",
"He just wanted to wax the floors. He knew Mr. Spitz had told him not to. He knew everyone had seen him yelling at him yesterday in the lobby when he had his tumble in the foyer. But he had also known Mr. Spitz was having company this evening. Company that needed to be impressed. He had already done the rest of the rooms already. He only needed to do the upstairs hallway. Mr. Spitz would never know, but his guests would notice his impeccable home.\n\nAt least, that's what Peter had told himself before Mr. Spitz had taken his tumble down the stairs. Now he was trying desperately to scrub the wax up off the floor before the police arrived. At least the valet Saul couldn't see him from the bottom of the curving stairs.\n\n----\n\nSaul was thankful Peter the butler couldn't see him from top of the curving staircase where the phone was. He was trying desperately to get the shoe polish out of Mr. Spitz's shoestrings before the police arrived. When he saw the untied laces on Mr. Spitz's body at the bottom of the stairs, he had been able to quickly tied them before Peter had come around. But even know they wouldn't stay tied long. He had to get the damned polish out and off of them.\n\nHe knew that everyone had overhead Mr. Spitz telling him he didn't need he shoes polished anymore. But Saul was determined to have Mr. Spitz shown in his very best light for his very important guests. He had lacquered on the polish three portions deep. What he didn't account for was the shoe laces picking up and retaining so much. Why had he insisted on polishing the bloody shoes? ",
"The SS Marmalade was not a large ship, in fact at the current time and place (that being 06:00 on the 6th December 2017, about 150 nautical miles from the coast of Antarctica) only 40 people (collectively both crew and passengers) had crammed themselves into the tight quarters of the vessel. \n \n40 people: 39 alive and one dead. The alive of us, of course, now crowded around a dead body with not a clue as to what to do. \n \nWe had all slept through this man's murder despite the fact that these chilly, summer days the sun never really dropped below the horizon. We all shivered in our pajamas, startled at the sight of him. It was cold enough that he still looked alive, but it was warm enough that we could all smell that he'd shat himself in his final moments. \n \nThe poor bastard... \n \nI only knew the dead man by surname, It was 'Gantall'. He was a deckhand, part of the expedition assistant team. Handsome fellow, huge too, not too friendly though, didn't really get to know him too well. His body was lying spread eagled on top of a stack of rubber floor mats. These things were meant to be put on slippery decks to make sure no one hurt themselves; how Ironic that a dead man now lay upon them. \n \n The cause of death was not ambiguous. He had a huge blade thrust right through his Solar Plexus, through the stack of floormats and into the wooden floor boards below. Infact that's how we'd found him. Blood was leaking through the ceiling below deck from the blade and droplets had fallen on Madam Bisset in whilst she slept. How unfortunate that she insisted on the top bunk. \n \nNeedless to say, there was a lot of screaming, everyone woke up, everyone stared at the blood-stained ceiling and everyone put two and two together and rushed up on deck. \n \n\"Oi, Clarky!\" Vic jabbed at me \"You is the Doctor 'ere, 'ave a look at 'im\" \n \nIgnoring the cockney twat, I composed myself and stepped forward to examine him. Two of my fingers extended gingerly towards his wrist, in search of a pulse. The others gathered in closer, almost as if guiding my fingers towards him. \n \nContact. His skin was cold and wet. \n \n\"He's dead.\" I announced. \n \n\"Darling even I could have made that deduction.\" scoffed Claire Smith. \n \n\"O' well done Clarky, You wanna find the cause of d-\" \n \n\"Shut up Victor!\" I snapped. \"A man is dead.\" \n \nEveryone burst into uproarious quarrel. Worried, angry, suspicious, scared, snide the group argued tooth and nail struggling for a singular voice, instead there was a chaotic roar amongst the passengers of the SS Marmalade as their heads darted around, shouting in each other's ears as to what their opinions were. \n \nIt was amazing to watch. They shouted at their allies, stared daggers at their enemies and slowly and gradually shuffled around the limited space forming their own little factions. Each little bit of contact with someone they had found grating on this long, arduous voyage was second guessed, and teeth were bared and fists were clenched. \n \n\"SIIIILLLLEEEENCE!\" Captain Brutus roared at the top of his lungs. His voice more booming than an Antarctic storm. \n \nFinally, the chatter died down, and the passengers gazed upon this red-faced man instead of each other. \n \nHe cleared his throat and then began to speak. \n \n\"Now let me state the obvious, this is a boat, a man has been murdered and one of you done it, question is who dunnit and why? If you is the culprit reveal yerself now, else there will be a much worse hell ter pay when we single you out\" \n \nNone of the kind passengers of the SS Marmalade made even a single sound. \n \n ",
"Another scream rang out. Julia, the person who I has drove to commit suicide. My horrible ways to her must of affected her more than I thought. Why was I murdering them? I wish I could answer that question, but it's what I'm trying to figure out too.\n\nThat time when Jacob claimed he was getting murdered? That was probably the trap I placed town, clamping the victims legs and squeezing them in agony, not killing until every last drip of blood runs out.\n\nAll the time, I've been trying to cover up my murders. Luckily, everybody else has been acting really suspicious... as if they themselves were the murderer. But I know the truth. My knife plunged into Margaret's stomach, twisting her intestines about. I couldn't stop myself, everything was just a blur. I had no control, I felt nothing during the time.\n\nNext on the list was Harry. I tried ripping the list apart, throwing my knife in the trashcan. But somehow... It always found its way back to me. I promptly stuffed Harry into a box, sealing away any breathing room. It was probably only a few hours until he died.\n\nMy mother and father would be depressed, angered, hell I can't think of words to describe their fury that I, Amelia, would grow up to be a murderer. I looked down at my list:\n\n- ~~Jacob~~\n\n- ~~Julia~~\n\n- ~~Margaret~~\n\n- ~~Harry~~\n\n- George\n\n- Angela\n\n- AND NEVER AMELIA HAHAHAHAHHA\n\nIt was time to go back to bed... everything was so tiresome and I really didn't want to wake up. The bed felt comfortable, like the one at the place I called home.\n\nIt was the next day. I was in a white room with no windows, a mouse trap on the floor and a little bed.\n\n\"Patient 3243, Amelia. We need to talk to you.\"\n\n\"Patients 432, 5678, 219, 8464, 10234 and 753, otherwise know as Jacob, Julia, Margaret, Harry, George and Angela, you will have to wait until we have your sanity check.\"",
"*Didn't stick the script too well. Thought I would post it anyway!\n\n\n~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~\n“God dammit who do you work for? Who are you covering for Max?” The detective had not slept well for the last week. Miranda had been murdered and no one they interviewed had given them any good information. Max was found wandering outside of the building where the murder happened mumbling about Miranda. \n\n\n“I watched her die. She was so sad.” Max said.\n\n“Who killed her Max? If she was sad then you should tell us who it was!” he shouted at the man. Max had to be restrained in the chair, he had thrown himself against every surface in an attempt to end his life. \n\n“I did.” Max said in a short staccato fashion rocking in his seat. \n\n“We have gone over this Max, we can see you on the video footage. The entire time we can see you standing in the corner of the room. All the lights go out and a second after that you ran out the door where other eyewitnesses confirm you stayed.” The detective had grown impatient. “Why would you kill Miranda anyway?”\n\nShrinking Max sloughed in his chair. He had stopped rocking back and forth and stared blankly at the ground. The detective tried to snap him out of it but there was no use. \n\n“I’m done with him.” The detective said to his colleague. Walking towards the door he could hear Max still trying to free himself from his restraints. \n\nJust days ago Miranda had come to him seeking help. She had told him that someone was following her. She had not seen anyone but could feel the presence of someone watching her every move. Suddenly she would wake up, still walking but in unfamiliar parts of town. Convinced that someone had been placing drugs in her drinks and following her until she lost control to the drug she went to the only person she thought could help.\n\n\nSuddenly a scream came from behind him and he spun around to see Max in tears.\n\n“I stabbed her in the chest! How can you not see the blood that still covers my hands.” Max said hysterically. The detective had heard this already and continued into the hallway. \n\nThey had found Miranda without any obvious wounds. Max was one of the detective’s men and had been following her to the last place she had been awake, the building where she was then found dead. The cause was determined to be blunt trauma to the back of her head.\n\nMaria, Miranda’s best friend, was in the next room. She had gone with the other two out of concern for Miranda’s health. She had seen her friend grow weary from the feeling of constantly being followed. Although she gave no more help than Max on determining what happened in the building she was in a more stable condition. The detective took a deep breath before entering the room.\n\n“Maria, can you tell me anything new about your friend?” he calmly asked as he slid in the chair in front of her. His colleagues said that Maria had seemed more cooperative recently, maybe she could start to clear this up for him.\n\n“Miranda was not there that day?” She said almost puzzled at the detectives question. “I killed her when she came at me with a knife the day before.”\n\n“Maria, your family all says they were with you the day before. We saw Miranda with you and Max walking into the building that day.” The detective’s shoulders slumped as he responded.\n\n“No, no!” Tears welling in her eyes. It seemed like she believed everything she was saying. \n\nHe couldn’t take this anymore, he left. Shaking his head the detective strolled down the hallway. If you looked close you could see the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. \n\nThat night the detective was at his house washing his hands in the bathroom when he felt it. Looking into the mirror he saw the figure slowly emerge from behind him. A cloud of black smoke forming above his shoulder. \n\n“Good work” the figure said, sending a chill down the man's spine. \n\n“What do you want from me?” The detective choked out the words.\n\nLaughing the figure melted back into a smoke that creeped around the man as tears fell from his face. Looking through the mirror he could see the truth. He had been in the building that day when the other two arrived. Miranda was not with them. Instead, where Miranda was supposed to be he saw it. The figure that now tormented his nightmares and haunted him during the day.\n",
"When we awoke, we were sitting at a long, elegant dining table. Only instead of a feast, all that we saw before us was one thing.\n\nThe corpse.\n\nIn truth, it was less of a dead body than it was meat in a vaguely human shape. The wrists appeared to have been slashed so that it seemed as though great gaping gills dotted his pale arms. His belly was skewered with a dagger. His legs had been crushed under the weight of an immense stone that, upon closer inspection, appeared to have been pushed from the balcony above us. His head had been bashed in so that the look of surprise on his concave skull was strangely stretched out. It was almost as though a cartoony mallet had been the weapon of choice. His throat bulged as though someone had crammed something large into it to cut off his air supply. There was no smell, though. Someone had neatly vacuum packed the entire grisly affair, stone and all. \n\nAs we all watched, a bubble of seawater, complete with a small fish, bubbled out of his mouth, and it became very obvious to all of us that somehow, despite the impossibility of the statement, he'd been drowned.\n\n\"Ok, class,\" I said, looking at the others, \"this is the final test before you receive your coroner's certification.\"\n\n\"But,\" sputtered a man with a panicked expression on his face, \"didn't we all-\"\n\nI grinned, my mouth stretching into a grin that silenced him instantly. \"Find cause of death, and you find the murderer. So, then, which one of you will it be, while the rest of you go free? You have five hours.\"",
"“I swear, I didn’t do anything.” The girl gulped. “I have an alibi.”\n\n“Sure you do Brooks.” A woman growled, placing the tips of her fingers to the table and scowling. “I’ve got several officers checking out your story, but for now, honestly I want you out of my sight.” Her detective badge glimmered against fluorescent light as she lifted the girl out of her chair and handed her over to one of the officers standing by. \n\n“Lord almighty.” She huffed, slumping back into her chair as soon as the interrogation room was empty. Hesitantly, she glanced down as the gun holstered at her hip. Was this wrong? Trying to pass off her own crime onto another poor soul? If she really was the one to shoot Tommy Winters... this was the only way to keep her kids out of the system, they couldn’t lose her from one mistake. She’d just have to pass the blame off on someone hopeless.\n\n“Anne?” The door swung open lightly and a dark head peered in. “We’ve got Sam Gallardo for you in room 3. Says he didn’t have anything to do with it, but the warrant to search his phone cleared and we found something interesting in his search history.”\n\nThe man dropped a file in front of Anne and she flipped through it. \n\n“Kid searched up, how to lay low if you killed someone, just a few hours after Tommy was killed. Sam’s our guy.” He grinned. \n\n“Thanks Lee.” She smiled, giving his cheek a pat on her way out the door.\n\n“Anything for you.” He whispered to himself, glancing after her as she walked off. Looks like she still didn’t suspect him...good. No way she would feel for him if she knew he’d killed a man. The evidence he’d planted on Sam Gallardo’s phone was working it’s magic. \n\nAs he followed Anne’s lead out of the room, he saw her glancing in at Gia Brooks, Anne had seemed really suspicious of her almost immediately, which struck Lee as odd, but Anne Fergus always had her reasons. \n\n“I heard you’ve got something on Sammie G. You gonna release me now lady?” Gia spat as Anne walked by.\n\n“No chance in hell little girl.” She growled back.\n\nGia watched as the detective walked past her holding cell. Hopefully whatever they had on Sam was enough to outweigh whatever they had on her. She’d been so careful not to be seen as she fled from the crash scene, but how was she supposed to know that Tommy was gonna die when she hit him. Hopefully they didn’t ever check on her car.\n\nThe last thing Gia heard from the detective was “Samuel Gallardo! I want a word with you.” As she threw open the door to the interrogation room, spun the chair around, sat, and leaned forward into the chair’s back. \n\n“What’s this?” She asked, dropping the folder and pointing to the picture of his search history.\n\n“I didn’t search that,” He replied flatly.\n\n“Well then who did smart guy?”\n\n“Hell if I know. You have any idea how much my phone gets passed around during the day? All the sweet ladies want to give me their digits and you know I’m not about to turn their pretty faces away.”\n\nAnne scrunched her nose up tight in disgust.\n\n“Detective Fergus?” A voice paged into the the room, it was the coroner. \n\nAnne eyed Sam up and down, “Don’t do anything stupid til I get back.” \n\n“But once you’re back here I can be as moronic as I want?” He snickered, mentally high fiving himself as she made her quick exit.\n\nEverything was going smoothly for Sam so far. He’d gotten under her skin, hadn’t broken his cool, and had a reasonable excuse for why that would be in his search history. As long as they didn’t start getting too nosy and start sniffing around his garage, he’d be fine. God forbid, if Tommy Winters died from his supply, it wouldn’t be his fault. However, the cops wouldn’t see it that way.\n\n“What is it Maxus?” Anne murmured, pulling the coroner aside. \n\nHe handed her a sheet of paper, the coroners report. “I found something interesting. Yes, Tommy was in a car crash and shot,” Anne winced, “the night of the murder, but that didn’t kill him.”\n\n“It didn’t?” She was baffled, perhaps it wasn’t her fault?\n\n“No, he also had an exceptionally large amount of methamphetamine in his system, but that didn’t do it either. What got to him first, was enough tranquilizer to knock out a herd of elephants.” \n\n“Tranquilizer?” Anne was near speechless. Who in town had access to that in such a large quantity? \n\n“Yes ma’am. Looks like you didn’t do it after all.” The coroner winked as he turned to walk away.\n\n“What? You know that I?”\n\n“Please, you’re the only person I know who packs this kind of heat.” He tossed the bullet into their air like a coin, and snatched it back into his fist.\n\n“Max? Isn’t that evidence that you’re playing with?”\n\n“Only if you want it to be.” He turned to face her, a single eyebrow raised.\n\nAnne smile, dragging her fingers across her lips as if zipping them, Maxus repeated it back.\n\n“Good luck Detective.” He tipped an imaginary hat and sauntered off. \n\n“Powers that be, give me strength. I’m gonna need it.\n\n————\n\nApologies if anything was factually incorrect, I didn’t get the chance to do much research before writing this :)\n\n",
"In the spectral light of the space-between-her-ears, Rachel’s emotions deliberated. Grady, the spurned soulmate, lay twitching on the kitchen tile. He’d taken a hard fall during his latest attempt at reconciliation, and now a pool of crimson blossomed beneath his temple. \n\nEveryone was a suspect. \n\nMany of the emotions pointed will-o-wisp fingers at Rage. \n\n“This wouldn’t be the first time,” they shouted. “He’s hurt others before.”\n\nAnd it was true. The burly bloke had a tendency to bulldoze Rachel’s senses. Steam sometimes roiled from his nostrils and he bellowed like a T-Rex. Usually his tantrums lead to tear-streaked pillows. Or words Rachel could never reel back through a telephone line. Once, even, he’d driven Rachel so frenzied that she’d actually struck her daughter Tricia. A smack across the cheeks. Nothing over the top, but enough that Guilt shamed him for weeks. \n\nTo be quite honest, Rage himself wasn’t sure he was innocent. But he wouldn’t go down without a fight. Amidst the pointing fingers, he puffed out his chest and bellowed:\n\n“It’s Jealousy that done it! Lay off’a me!” \n\nAll the streetlight eyes went wide. Murmurs spiderwebbed through the crowd, Emotions rumbled angrily like distant summer thunder. Could it be true? Quite possibly. They had a history, you see. Jealousy made Rachel’s eyes whirl in their sockets. She was always making her do the strangest of things. \n\n“I suppose it’s possible,” Rationalization piped up. “She did see Grady flirting with someone at the gym.”\n\nEveryone gasped. Jealousy slunk in the corner--a slender wisp of sparkler smoke. All the attention made her blush. The other emotions urged her to speak. Reluctantly, she stammered.\n\n“It had only been *one* year, for Christ sakes. Flirting with some low-cut skank after *one. year*. Rachel is raining tears into cartons of ice cream on a nightly basis. I can’t remember the last time she had a night’s sleep. She dodges wellness checks left and right. Meanwhile he... well. He’d always wanted someone with a nice…”\n\nRealization dawned on Jealousy. Perhaps she played a part, sure (she was always working on Rachel subliminally), but she’d never have her *kill* anyone! It was simply not true. \n\nShe had to divert the blame. Her eyes darted to potential candidates, before settling at once on a lumbering figure with an upturned chin. \n\n“But what about Vengeance?!” she shrieked. \n\n“Yes! Fair point,” cried Ignorance. “I swore I saw her smile!”\n\nVengeance swept her cape behind her in sudden offense. Static electricity riveted her hair on end. The emotions nearest her took several steps back. \n\n“Why, the dishonor! I have never been so outraged in...I mean...I would be the first to admit, Grady’s death is a piece of karmic justice. As terrible as that sounds. He *was* supposed to be watching our baby Tricia.”\n\nMurmurs of affirmation. \n\nOver to the left, lanky Sadness squeaked back tears. \n\n“I...it’s shameful to admit. I do sort of feel good…” Vengeance continued. “I suppose it’s possible…”\n\n“I think we’ve heard enough,” Ignorance declared. “A clear cut case. Vengeance for the death of our baby girl.”\n\nIgnorance’s barrel chest puffed out as he continued.\n\n“In a stunning feat of irony, justice has been served to both Grady and Vengeance on this fateful day.”\n\nThe other emotions murmured, thankful to be cleared of the charge. In unison, they moved to gather up Vengeance and purge it from Rachel’s consciousness. Her Vengeance would be turned on its head and morphed into slimy, dripping humiliation. A terrible near future loomed on the horizon. Rachel would be locked up behind bars, forever forced to confront the fact that her own sense of misaligned justice had--\n\n“Wait!” A voice echoed off the gleaming walls. \n\nThe entirety of the-space-between-her-ears fell silent. \n\nA tiny child--an exact replica of Tricia--stood shaking before the oncoming crowd. \n\n“I’ve messed it all up,” little Grief cried. “Now there’s no going back.”\n\nIgnorance frowned. The blubbery lines of his spotty face rippled and waved. “I don’t understand,” he said. “Are you confessing?\n\n“Yes,” Grief croaked. \n\nVengeance stooped low, placing a hand on the tiny girl. Her stark features softened as she whispered:\n\n“Did you really do it?”\n\n“He had her eyes,” Grief cried. “The color of sea foam. Every time I looked at them it was like I was seeing Tricia again. Cast strange underneath flashing red and blue.”\n\nGrief began wailing. Soon enough Rage joined in. \n\n“I done it too!” he shrieked. “I can’t control me’self. Tricia was everything.\"\n\nJealousy collapsed to the floor. \n\n“Just...the thought of another child...with those eyes...another woman…”\n\nOne by one, the emotions found blame within themselves. Upon doing so, they whirled and riveted. They spun around the-space-between-her-ears like spent balloons. The entire foundation of everything began to shake. The lights grew blight and bleary. One by one, they expanded and popped. \n\nIt was all too much. \n\nIn the kitchen, Rachel collapsed to the floor, tugging on Grady’s lifeless shoe. Tears stung her eyes. \n\n“Get up Grady,” she cried, to no response. \n\nWhen the terrible red and blue began to flash through her window, the authorities found her hyperventilating over his body. \n\n\"I don't know what happened,\" she stammered on repeat. \n\n\"I don't know what happened.\"\n_______________\n\nr/writerscrywhiskey\n",
"As I hoped I didn't appear too visibly shaken, I quickly interjected into the groups conversation that I thought the death seemed to be a suicide. Everyone appeared to fight over one another for the chance to agree with me. Much to my relief, the matter was settled within seconds and the police were quick to agree with the consensus of a group of 45 people.",
"Mr. Johnson's friends were a varied bunch.\n\nDr. Sanders was his doctor -- a skillful surgeon who had removed the tumor in his lung. Miss Wilmington was an old friend from St. Mary's, who had too many cats and baked too many cookies. Eva was a beautiful, vivid woman, with a promising acting career. And Jerry was the man's younger brother -- a ne'er do well, living off their father's money.\n\nBut they all had one thing in common: they had been betrayed by him.\n\nSo when his body was found, not a tear was shed. \"He's dead,\" Jerry announced, faking a quivering lip.\n\n\"That's a shame,\" Dr. Sanders said. *Thank God that old coot is dead!* \"Cancer's just such a tragic thing. I worked so hard to remove the entire tumor, but, you know, maybe I left a piece in... by accident, of course!\" *He made a fool out of me. To correct my spelling -- in front of my colleagues, my wife! So what, I misspelled 'weird'?! Who cares! Or... 'wierd'? Whatever.*\n\n\"Actually, he didn't die from the cancer,\" Jerry said.\n\nMiss Wilmington stiffened, and wrapped her hand-knit scarf tightly around her neck. \"Oh my! I don't... suppose he suffered a terrible allergic reaction?\" *I told him, he'd pay for stepping on Mister Friddles!* \"I made peanut butter cookies... it must've simply slipped my mind that he's deathly allergic to them... oh, dear...\" She feigned a sob, and put her head in her hands.\n\nEva twirled her long, blonde hair around a finger. \"It must have been that terrible fall,\" she lamented. \"Poor thing. We were walking out by the beach --\" *and I tripped him --* \"and he suddenly tripped on a branch. Fell right into the sidewalk.\" She fake-blew her nose. *What a dick -- rejecting me! I'm 20 years younger than him -- a good-looking woman, everyone says so... and he had the audacity to say I'm 'not his type'?! Asshole!*\n\nJerry stood before the three, his knees weak. *I always lived in his shadow. He got the snazzy law degree, the money, the girls, and all of Father's affections. Damn him! Dammit! And the worst part -- I didn't even get to kill him! I gave him too many of his pills, 'by accident', and it actually made him feel* better*!*\n\nJerry sat down with the rest, his head in his hands.\n\n\"While home alone last night, he choked on a peppermint candy.\"\n\n---\n\nr/CSDouglas",
"The lamps in the in the dining hall flickered a eerie, uncertain gold. Though dim, they illuminated the entirety of the room-- from the massive old fashioned oaken table at the center, to the variety of glasses and a smattering of bottles strewn along its edge, to the guests, crowded near the window, faces contorted with shock and fear, to the dead body lying on the floor with a bloody candlestick lying next to it.\n\nDr. Hall knelt before the corpse of our esteemed host, Professor Henderson. The doctor wore a spiff white lab coat, only mostly covering some worn and stained pajamas. When he rose, the doctors stern face had somehow contorted itself into a ever more grave depiction of brisk authority.\n\n“The cause of death was trauma to the head, inflicted by the candlestick. Henderson was murdered”. Said Dr. Hall, in a gravelly intelligent voice that almost masked how the doctor, like the rest of the guests, was very hungover.\n\nA murmur swept through the small crowd-- each of the party guests glanced suspiciously at every other. Who was the culprit? What was his motive? Was there anymore vodka stashed anywhere? Did that old medicine cabinet contain anything for hangovers?\n\nThe unfortunate truth was that none of the guests could really remember the night before-- it was a haze of poor quality music and high quality alcohol. In addition, everyone of them was a suspect, and they knew it, because everyone HATED Professor Henry Henderson.\n\nSophia Scarlet had once had a severe crush for the brilliant, handsome professor. Only a few weeks ago she had openly declared her affections for him, and had been delighted to have them reciprocated. It had seemed to be the beginning of a fairy-tale romance-- until it turned out that Professor Hendersons only interests were full contact bocce ball and Adam Sandler movies.\n\nHenderson had considered Dr.Herbert Hall a rare intellectual equal to his-- and had discoursed with him often about their shared interests in his wheezy high pitched voice. Except that Dr. Hall was a world renowned surgeon, while Henderson was a Ornithologist, and an idiot.\n\nMs. Whilma White was Professor Hendersons long time maid and confident-- and his untimely death had probably saved her 0-10 hours of vengeance for all those half-empty cartons of milk he spilled places to be amusing.\n\nColonel John Jackson was the military companion of the professor-- they had been squad-mates in the war. That was, until Henderson had abandoned their trench in the middle of a firefight to see if the local village had any mayonnaise.\n\nAnd lastly, there was the professors’ esteemed mother, Lady Violet Purpula. She had lived with the professor his whole life-- and if that didn’t make her a suspect, nothing would.\nSo all the guests went back to bed, scared, but also cheerful. As they walked, they thought hard to themselves: how would they prove their innocence? Who could they trust? And since they had probably done the murder themselves-- was this gonna be a usual thing, or a one time incident?\n\n(Might do a second part later today. r/StannisTheAmish).\n"
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This was inspired by watching Marvel movies and wondering,"What motivated all of those Hydra soldiers to join up? Maybe they had good reasons."
You don't have to write this in the Marvel universe, unless you really want to. | [WP] A hero fights their way through an army of generic, disposable bad guys. But as each bad guy fights and falls, we learn his or her backstory. | 26 | [
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"Beneath the towering walls of Illeum, \nSoleus the son of Pelea \nstepped out from the shield wall \nin an open challenge to the Illians. \nHis bronze armor glinted in the evening sun. His spear and shield flashed fire in the enemy eyes.\nFrom the line of Illian shields, \nthe champion, Henle, stepped forward, resigned to his fate. \nSoleus slipped his spear into the notch of his shield. \nHenle raised his own\n and the two circled.\nSoleus, ever bold, lunged.\nHenle dodged with practiced skill. \nHenle struck a blow to Soleus' back, \nhis spear deflecting off the bronze armor.\nHe knew his death then.\nSoleus swung his spear,\nthrusting it through Henles helm. \nThere the champion fell, \nfaceless in the sand,\nthe prince of Illeum.\n\nSoleus stood in the sand, \nand issued his challenge again. \nNo illian answered until the sun kissed the sea. \nA young man of Masseter strode out bearing the blessing of the moon. \nThat virginal huntress, the cold lady of the night,\nfavored this hunter, Max, granting keenness to his eyes and fleetness to his feet. \nCrimson dusk shadowed Soleus black against the sky. \nMax drew his bow. \nSoleus covered himself with his shield and crept forward. \nMax aimed for Soleus' exposed feet, \nhitting the sand ahead of the hero's toe. Soleus charged, \nbut the fleet footed Max maintained his space. He could not draw as Soleus would reach him. \nSoleus could not attack as the Masseteran stayed far away. \nEach time Max drew his bow, Soleus charged. They were matched. \nThe night grew dark, and the pale stars lent little light. \nNo moon rose, the fickle huntress abandoned the boy. \nHer feud with Plantares' mistress meant the \ninnocent Illian must die. \nMax, soldier from Masseter, \nfar from Soleus drew his bow and fired. Soleus charged, feeling the fletched feathers brush his arm. \nMax retreated as he had all evening. \nSoleus said a silent prayer to Pelea, \nfor her to guide his hand. \nStopping his charge, he threw his spear. \nMax never saw it in the dark, \ndying as it struck his heart.\n\nIn shame Plantares stood in his hall, \nthe younger prince of Ileum. \nThe duty of defense fell to him in his brother's stead. \nUrete and Sartor, his wife and infant son, \nslept soundly in his bed. \nHis patron, Venus, the lusty lady of beauty and love \nspurred him to abondon his task. \nShe had no care for duty \nand urged him to run away with Urete, leaving Illeum to its fate. \nAll night, he stood vigil on the rampart, \nuncertain.\n\nSoleus departed for the beach, planning to renew the attack the next day. \nIf the Illians produced no champion and still refused surrender, \nlong and bloody siege would follow. \nPlantares, Prince of Illeum, stole away his precious Urete. \nHe would have her again \nrazing Illeum if required. \n\nThe bloody martian lord of war relished the possibility, \nhis iron mantle glowing red. \nHis rival, the crippled smith, pitied the scores \nwho's deaths would mark the morning. \nPerhaps out of mercy, perhaps out of spite \nfor Beauty, his unfaithful wife, \nthe smith urged Plantares out of Illeum. \nMorning neared with the red of war, \nwhile Plantares snuck to the beach. \nAfraid to approach the champion Soleus, \nPlantares shot from the tent door. \nThe missing moon could not divert his deadly arrow. \nIt struck the sleeping Soleus in the belly, \nloosing his lifeblood. \nPelea, enraged at the honorless prince, \ngranted her son strength in his last breaths. \nSoleus lunged with his dagger, \nslashing the princes throat.\n\n The ruddy dawn turned gold as the two rivals died together. \nLacking Soleus' leadership, \nthe Jejunii sailed from Illeum's shore. \nUrete ruled as queen while the infant prince grew.\nThe smith sat content, \nsatisfied with his subtle subversion of his wife's machinations. \nLove and war smoldered, defeated.",
"// Perseus. Named after the Greek hero by his late mother, who died shortly after giving birth. He was raised by the Resistance, groomed and nurtured, to represent everything the Resistance stood for. \n\n//The Resistance had been gaining traction the past 5 years now. Before, it was on the brink of destruction, however as soon as Perseus turned 18 and joined the battlefield, the tides of war changed, swinging in the favour of the Resistance. The Resistance are now extremely close to victory, as their elite squadron approached the manor, the final stronghold of the Supreme Leader, and his residence. \n\n//Perseus, brandishing his golden blade, cut down the only henchman guarding the door. When the cold steel of Axe Calibur met the flesh of the guard, Perseus was immediately flooded with memories. The memories were that of the faceless guard Perseus just cut down. Except the man wasn’t very faceless. A boy with messy blond hair and smooth facial features rummaging through stone and wood. The boy’s only company was fire, rubble and smoke. He cried out for his sister, rummaging through all the ruins with his small, dirty hands. The boy appeared to finally found something underneath the pile, a girl. Younger than the boy, no older than 5 or 6 years old, but part of her face had been severely mutilated. The girl was obviously dead, with a metal rod embedded in where her left eye used to be. The boy cradled the lifeless body in his arms, releasing the body to hide only when some soldiers marched past. Perseus recognised these soldiers, or more specifically, their flag. It was the Resistance. By their uniforms, Perseus knew this was the Battle Of Beijing. This gruesome conflict took place 7 years ago, when the Resistance was being crushed. Soldiers from both side met in Beijing and the clash was violent. The Resistance had told Perseus that their forces were wiped out in this conflict, but the memories flooding his head clearly showed Resistance soldiers alive, burning houses and executing civilians and opposing soldiers. \n\n//Perseus was rudely awakened from this dream-like vision when his comrade, Johnny hit him on the back of his head with his rifle butt. \n\n“Perseus! Focus! We are storming the manor!”\n\n He turned back to Johnny, and murmured a quick apology under his breath. He tightened his grip on Axe Calibur, and charged towards the door. With a strong kick, the doors flung open. The squadron entered the manor with caution. It was empty. They huddle into a circle, backs facing each other and took in their surroundings. It was grand, yet sinister. The walls were black and red, and there were no windows. There was a large statue of the Supreme Leader towards the back of the room, right in front of the stairs.\n\n Assange turned to Jenson and said, “Perfect for an evil manor. It’s almost as if we are playing a video game.”. No one replied Assange, and the squadron treaded on towards the stairs. As they approached the second floor, they were met with a sudden onset of bullets. \n\n Perseus, look at his team. Using sign language, he told them to wait behind cover, and he will charge in to tank the fire. Of course, his team agreed, Perseus was bulletproof, almost as if he had plot armour and will never die. \n\n//Perseus tossed a flashbang, stunning his enemies and charged in. With a quick swing of his blade, he cut down the first man. A burly man. Again, when the metal met the flesh of this burly man, Perseus was swamped with memories, not his, but that of the burly man. \n\n A man with a scraggly beard, muscles so big you would think he was a descendent of The Rock. But he was hiding. Underneath the floor. Using his large frame, he hugged 3 kids, most likely his children and the oldest appearing to be less than 15 years old. He had his hand over their mouths, likely to stop them from screaming, shouting or making any kind of noise who would give his position away to the men upstairs. The men stood above the ceiling. Perseus could hardly make out what the men were speaking, but it went along the lines of, “We are of the Resistance. Surrender the people, and we will spare your house, unless you prefer to die with the scum underneath your floor in a nice little bonfire.” Perseus could not hear the rest, but what ensued was an explosion, which only left the man alive. The children were dead. The man emerged with a sharp, painful look in his eye. And Perseus woke up again. \n\n Perseus immediately moved on to the next man, or rather next three. Using the pistol in his holster, he shot all three of them. And the memories came again. The first was a woman who was repeatedly raped by Resistance Soldiers, the second a man tortured, by electric chair for information, and the third, it was almost as if it was by God’s miracle the third man was alive with all the pain he had seen. Every vision felt like an eternity, but in reality, barely a second would have passed.\n\n//With every man he cut down, he saw more and more of the horrors the Resistance had committed. Every killing, every crime, every rape. Each always led to the soldier joining the Order. When Perseus cut down the final man, his 1789th kill in the manor that night, he was broken. Confused what he was fighting for. Yet, with heavy feet he walked towards the office of the Supreme Leader.\n\n The Supreme Leader took one look at him, and then glanced at the golden weapon in Perseus’s hand. \nHe smiled, and the he spoke, “Hello, great hero. You probably already saw the crimes the Resistance committed. I’m the villain of this story, and you, the great hero, the man who led the rebels to victory. The man who ended the tyrannous rule of the Leader. Th..\n\n Before the Leader could finish his monologue, Perseus slashed his throat. And then the visions came.\n\n\nIt's my first time trying this out, and I know I have a very poor command of English. I hope you like it!",
"(Keep in mind that I'm writing this at like 11 pm EST)\n\n\n\n\"Hiram Ray Hawkes has just broken out of Kraken Sea Correctional Facility. Be warned of any man missing his right eye.\"\n\n27 HOURS EARLIER\n\n\"So, Mr. Hawkes, finally surrendered?\" the man asks.\n\n\"Maybe,\" Hiram starts laughing, \"but you can't keep me here forever!\"\n\n\"Just keep telling yourself that Mr. Hawkes.\" the man responds knowing that Hiram was just lying to him.\n\nThe man continues to stand guard. Gun ready to fire, if necessary.\n\n\"Hey Jim! OR-107LL is escaping we need all the help we can get!\"\n\nJim throws his gun at the fellow Guard, \"I can't leave Hiram without any supervision!\"\n\nAs the other guard ran away, Hiram used his mechanical eye to call upon his removed arm, legs and hand to attack Jim. 30 minutes later Hiram's arm broke Jim's neck, ending Jim's life. Hiram's mechanical parts reattached themselves to him.\n\nJim's life was hopeless, his wife died from an asteroid impact on the moon colony, his parents died when he was young and he had no other siblings. That all changed when he joined the academy to achieve his dream of making the galaxy a better place. After 10 years of training and hard work he eventually made it to Kraken Sea Correctional Facility on Titan.\n\nThere he met many friends, and had found somewhat of a family again. When Hiram Ray Hawkes, the most wanted man in the Galaxy was put under his control he couldn't be happier. The thought that it was him who stood in-between a chaotic immortal man and the peace of the Galaxy didn't seem to daunt him.\n\nHiram was under his control for less than a year before CRACK! Jim's neck was snapped, ending his life.",
"\"Alright,\" began Joe, \"roll call time. Say 'here' when I say your name.\"\n\n\"C'mon man, all four of us are here.\" Mumbled Robb. \n\n\"You know the drill. I'm squad leader so I have to have these meetings at the beginning and end of each shift.\" Said Joe easily. \n\n\"Can't you just, you know, say you did? When was the last time anything happened worth meeting about anyway?\" Said Cynthia\n\n\"Day 874 without a workplace injury. Four more months and I get a watch.\" Replied Joe with a smile.\n\n\"So you can mark us all late, right Joe?\" Said Fred, sticking his tongue out from his toothy grin.\n\n\"We'll maybe you should come on time then.\" Said Joe, absentmindedly completing the minutes sheet.\n\n\"Have a heart Joe, we have to stand in the same damn spot for eight hours every night. I need some time beforehand to, y'know, make sure I'm not carrying any luggage?\" Said Fred, leaning back in his chair.\n\n\"Oh come on Fred, I don't need to hear that.\" Said Cynthia turning away.\n\n\"What, aren't you cleaning diapers every night?\" Asked Fred.\n\n\"Hell no!\" Said Cynthia. \"That is firmly a husband job. They told me it 'wouldn't be bad when it was from my own kid' but, let me tell you, it is.\"\n\n\"I'll take your word for it Cindy. Great to have you back though. That should do it for the official minutes, now onto personal matters. Robb, we having your birthday at the Main Street Bar like always?\" Asked Joe.\n\n\"Actually,\" Robb said standing, \"me and Christi were thinking that we could celebrate it at Giovanni's. We wanted somewhere a bit fancier for my birthday slash engagement party!\"\n\n\"Wow that's great!\" \"Awesome to hear!\" \"That's terrific Robb!\"\n\n\"Yea, thank you guys so much for everything. I never would have talked to her without you guys pushing me.\"\n\n\"Really great Robb. Really.\" Said Joe, slipping the minutes into an envelope and dropping it in the safe. \"Alright that should be it everyone. Let's get to- oh damn I almost forgot. It's Friday, so does anyone have any complaint cards?\"\n\n\"No, I never fill those things out anymore.\" Said Cynthia. \"Not after the one I sent down about the helmets fitting too tight. I never even got an answer. It's like, I can't tell any of us apart when were in them. That, and what are they for anyway? None of the scientists wear them around the labs. So is it just to obscure our faces or should I actually be worried about that stuff?\"\n\nJoe shook his head. \"No clue. But the past fifteen years I've been at this facility I've never had so much as a cold. At we've only had these things for the past five. Ah, who cares. Yea they're uncomfortable but may as well be safe.\"\n\n\"Fifteen years, huh, Joe?\" Asked Frank as they fell out into position.\n\n\"That's right greenhorn.\" Said Joe smiling under his mask. \"With only five more before I get full retirement. Two more if I want to take 80%. Which I may.\"\n\n\"Ugh and here I am, three years in and bored to death. I gotta go back to school man.\"\n\n\"You should. It'd do you some good.\" Said Joe laughing. Frank begrudgingly joined him as they took their places.\n\n*A few hours later*\n\n\"Check check, status report everyone.\" Joe called from the watchtower. From his position he could see along the drive up to the facility, a dull, gray, square of a building. He could see Robb and Cynthia standing on either sides of the bulletproof door leading inside. At the bottom of his watchtower, near where the chain-link gate opened, was Fred, slowly pacing back and forth to stay awake. \n\n\"Cynthia and Robb, all clear.\" Said Robb, waving briefly to show everything was fine. \n\n\"Fred? Status report?\" Joe asked looking down. He sighed when he saw frank giving him the finger. \"All clear with Fred too. Little prick.\"\n\n\"If I'm not alright you'll know it.\" Said Frank into his radio. \n\n\"You're more annoying than.....than.... well damnit give me a minute to try and think of something that makes my blood-pressure rise quite as much as you.\" Said Joe. Robb and Cynthia laughed and Fred smiled to himself. \n\nAfter what seemed like an eternity, Fred piped up. \"C'mon old man, don't leave me hanging, what am I as annoying as?\" \n\nFred stood waiting for a response.\n\n\"A hernia? Blood clot? People who talk on their phone in line. Rush hour traffic. Rush hour the movie. Nothing?\" Asked Fred. \"Hold on, I'll check on the pouter.\" He said climbing the watchtower to Joe's position. \n\n\"I liked the Rush Hour movies.\" Said Robb over the radio.\n\n\"Yea, I'll admit they were pretty good. I'm a sucker for kung fu movies. Every seen Enter the Dragon?\" Said Fred, half way up the watchtower.\n\n\"No, is it any good?\" Replied Robb.\n\n\"No way man you've never seen it? That's it, guy movie marathon before you give your balls away to the woman you love. Whaddya say crybaby Joe? You in?\" Said Fred, summiting the stairs.\n\nJoe lie on the floor of the watchtower, an arrow stuck through his chest. His breath came in shallow rattles and a small steam of blood trickled down from under the corner of his mask. \n\n\"MAN DOWN, MAN DOWN, WE ARE UNDER ASSAULT\" Screamed Fred into the radio. He knelt beside Joe and lifted off his mask. \n\n\"So much for,\" Joe's breath struggled to inhale air through all the blood, \"early retirement.\" He coughed out thick wads of congealed blood. Fred held him as he tried to inhale once more. His breath no longer came to him and he began to have disgusting, wet, hiccuping spasms as he drowned from his own blood. \n\nFred ripped off his mask and was sick in a corner. He grabbed his radio and started shouting to Robb and Cynthia.\n\n\"He's dead guys. Joe's dead. I'm not sure who got him or how, but whoever it is he has at least a bow. Lock everything down I'm going to hit the alarm.\"\n\nRobb and Cynthia backed against the door, their trembling fingers rocking against their triggers. They watched the silhouette of Fred turn to hit the alarm, but were frozen when they saw a shadow reach out and grab him. They watched as the shadow of a knife sunk deep into the outline of their friend. They looked in horror at the fountain of ink that shot from his shadow. Their bones chilling, they watched the specter who killed their friends recede into the shadows. Desperately searching, they could find no trace of him against the pale early dawn. \n\n\"Cindy, you have got to get inside. Hit the alarm and get the scientists to safety. Take them to the safe room if you need to but it's too dangerous out here.\"\n\n\"Robb you're being ridiculous. We have to go together, I couldn't face Christi if something happened to you.\"\n\n\"You're going to have to. Tell her I love her and that I'm sorry I couldn't grow old with her.\"\n\n\"This is ridiculous, if you stay I stay.\"\n\n\"Absolutely not. I know what it's like to grow up without a mother. I wont let little Jackson know. Give him a good life Cindy. Give yourself a good life.\"\n\nFighting back tears, Cynthia ran into the building. Halfway to the alarm, she lost her nerve and turned to run back to Robb. She watched with dull horror as the two bullet proof doors bent inward from an engulfing fireball. She was lifted off her feet and thrown backward through the air. She could barely feel when she hit the floor. Writhing in agony, she desperately tried to regain her sense of hearing. She watched dust and debris float gently to the floor as her hands shook violently and her eyes were unable to focus. She could feel this trails of blood flowing from her eyes and ears and nose. With every ounce of energy left, she lifted her head and watched as the grim figure approached her out of the din. She attempted to cough out a plea for mercy and begged with her eyes for clemency.\n\n\"Die villainous scum!\" ",
"Gero of Tracheon twirled. His sword dazzled in the light of the orange, setting sun. The poor man across from him nearly dropped his sword. Gero feinted, and pirouetted. The grunt, predictably, took the bait, and lunged right. Gero made a single, strong slice, and the grunt fell. The grunt knew exactly why he died.\n\nTwo years ago. Academy. He had been training in swordplay, and he was quite good at it as well. His teachers remarked on how he stayed at the barracks long after hours had ended, and while his instructors approved, they wondered as to his motives.\n\nHis motives were his home.\n\nEvery night he came home, it was only to yelling. His father, an embattled chemist, was frustrated at his son's perceived stupidity. Despite the grunt's insistence that his passion lay in swordplay, his father forced him into more scientific fields, with his mother's begrudging agreement. Soon, the grunt lost his edge. And when war came to Seacrest, and he was drafted, the grunt felt in his heart his father's hard headedness would be the death of him. And thus a dream, and a damn talented swordsman, died to the misguided passion of a foolish man.\n\nGero broke into a strong sprint, and swiftly made his way across the battlefield. Behind him lay a dying postman, seamstress, and accomplished chef, all victims of the wartime draft enacted by Seacrest. Of course, Gero didn't know what he was doing. He was just some meathead who did whatever was trendy in Tracheon, which at the time was heroism. You see, Gero didn't have aspirations, or dreams, or love. He was simply an empty shell into which all boring, faceless people could imagine themselves. Even Gero himself didn't realize his own failure as a man. The grunt had dreams, and feelings, and a vision of his own future. Gero was nothing. Just a stitched together cliche of a thousand other identical warriors, depriving the world of its future.\n\nAnd so Seacrest fell to Tracheon, and eventually, when heroism fell out of style, Gero became a librarian, because he wanted to learn how to read."
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[WP]The elves of The Lord of the Rings were deceived. They were taken from the undying lands and made to labor endlessly in a frozen waste as slaves to a being far worse than Sauron. They call him Santa Claus. | 6 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"Taskmaster's door just opened upstairs, a new shipment must be ready.\n\nI light my tears phial and use the small light to gather my belongings and hide the hairlock in my clothes. Those phials used to gleam with hope from Galadriel, nowadays the best ones provide that gloomy greenish light.\n\nBetter than nothing.\n\nAlready ten years since we landed on this cursed land, Elrond had everything planned very carefully. We arrived exhausted, out of food, water and strength. As soon as we stepped on land, fully armored elves approached, and by the point of the sword we were separated, segregated by usefulness or lack of it.\n\nThe stronger men, the few who had any will left to fight, were beaten, shackled, then moved out of the camps to work on the fields. They have it the worst, allowed to eat only what is left after each camp took their quota, sleeping in crude shelters they had to build themselves. Older elves that needed to be cared for where killed on the spot, the lucky ones. The older women were put in charge of baking, cooking, cleaning and disposing of the bodies. I used to wonder about the meat we are sometimes served with the evening meals, but I never dared asking, no one ask that question. Those who refused to eat it died of exhaustion long ago anyway.\n\nGaladriel and all the pretty young ones were taken away, moved to live with Him in the tower far north, Frodon was taken with them for whatever reasons. Few of those ever came back, most of them too broken to be more than shells. All the ones still fertile are moved in the breeding barracks, just between the command building and the casern. Of those, only 10 in as many years actually survived long enough to be sent working with the older women as reward for good services. \n\nFrom the other side of my cell doors Glorfindel the Ill Named eruct \"Shipment duty !\"\n\nHe used to be one us, but he swore fealty to Him at the end of the first year and already he looks more like them than us. His once golden hair is now completely black, his skin still only a dull gray but his eyes, his eyes already have that red gleam which seems to allow them to see clearly in that perpetual night reigning here. \n\nOn my way out, I make the sign, right hand palm open, arm extended at face height toward his painting. So much red, where do they find so much red paint in this world of grey shades ? Each building has a painting near the door, It was the first thing they taught us upon arrival, how to salute Him, get it right or get beaten.\n\nI step outside and immediately feel Its weight, that blue icy stare from the giant eye a top the tower. The camp is constructed around a main avenue going south to north, forcing us to walk under His gaze each time we must move from one building to another. I walk with the rest of the crew toward the factory near the north camp watchtower, Glorfindel trailing behind us. The combined light from five phial creates just enough light to give the buildings around us a green taint. On the way, we have to pass under the Reward Tree, which is neither a tree nor related to any kind of rewards. Most of its fruits are long rotten away, only the chain and maybe some bones remaining. Only Erestor was rewarded this year, most of us are too beaten down to try anything. \n\nAs we arrive near the manufacture, we are greeted by an arrow from the watchtower, Legolas Greenleaf reminding us not to try anything. I think he just wants to fight the boredom, it has been years since he hunted the last escapee. We arrive at the building entrance, that's where is lodged the rest of us, all the children, the middle aged women past bearing age and all those who were artisan before, chained together to the ground, sleeping under the work benches at night and working most of the day making seemingly useless contraptions. I once heard a Overlord calling them \"Cadeau de noel\" whatever that means. Every week or so, we transport all of those to Him, the one they call \"Père Noel\".\n\nWe have our own name for Him, we call Him Satan Claus\n",
"Had Frodo known what was waiting on the other end of that boat, he'd never had gone on it. In fact, he's more than once classified that choice as, \"As mistake.\" \nHe knew they were in trouble when he saw the light. The blood red light that would serve as the harbinger of doom. Of all the beasts and evil things running around Santa's Work Shop, Rudolph was the worst. \nThe other reindeer were frightening, make no mistake. But they never seemed to cause as much trouble for Frodo and other elves like Rudolph did. There was a commitment to him that the others lacked. He was a believer. And Frodo learned long ago, treu-believers were the most dangerous. \nHis long razor sharp horns had speared many elves working at a \"substandard\" pace. And, as for the nose, well, it only seemed to grow more and more red with every kill he tallied. \nThe tally was another struggle. Make this. Sand that. Paint 500 toy trains. Every day was another unending task that Santa needed finished. If quotas weren't met, well, Rudolph was always willing to make his nose more bright. \nAs for Santa, Frodo hardly ever saw him. Worse than Sauron though. Sauron was an eye, ever present, ever watching. Santa, Santa was a voice. Always ordering, constantly laughing. His Ho-ho-ho filled the Work Shop at all hours. Making the daily massacre of elves all the more troubling. \nYou try finishing 30 more trains after hearing a mad man laugh to while an elf bled out next to you. \nFrodo had traded the shackle of one ring for another. This one placed around his ankle. It weighted him down at all hours of the day. And, in the white stream of snow and merry music wafting in the air, Frodo sadly, wistfully, wished for the days in Mordor. \nMordor was warm. \nMordor didn't chafe his ankles. \nYes... He had come to realize. There were a good many things worse than Mordor. Santa and his top reindeer, being chief among them. "
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[removed] | [WP] What seems like fleets of spaceships appear in Earth's orbit. 2 sets of communications are broadcasting, 1 Venusian, 1 Martian, both claiming to be Earth's ancestors and demanding our allegiance in the war. | 1 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"Hi there, this post has been removed.\n\nPrompts go in the title. You can add more in the text, but avoid [too many details](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/7hvqz4/wp_what_seems_like_fleets_of_spaceships_appear_in/%0A%0A)\n\n*This action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things.*"
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[removed] | [WP] Why don't you _____ anymore? | 0 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](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/7hyzji/wp_why_dont_you_anymore/%0A%0A)\n\n*This action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things.*"
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[removed] | [WP] A Roman concubine cons their way to the top. | 3 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"Hi there, this post has been removed.\n\nSexually explicit themes are 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/7i1i5b/wp_a_roman_concubine_cons_their_way_to_the_top/%0A%0A)\n\n*This action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things.*"
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[WP] Humans once wielded formidable magical power but with over 7 billion of us on the planet now Mana has spread far to thinly to have any effect. When hostile aliens reduces humanity to a mere fraction the survivors discover an old power has begun to reawaken once again. | 27,366 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"\nThanks to { dr.obho } he is a great spell caster who brought my ex husband back I want to tell everyone about my meeting with ( dr.obhogreatspell@gmail.com) who bring back my ex lover within the period of 2days... At these moment i don't have anything to say than to appreciate the good works of dr.obho, who you can simply reach through this email address: ( dr.obhogreatspell@gmail.com )\n\nOnce again contact this email .......... dr.obhogreatspell@gmail.com \n\nYou can also reach me through this number for confirmation +19136084584\n",
"I always loved stories of magic, sword and sorcery, fantastical heroes weilding the powers of the elements at their fingertips. They were escapist fantasies, where one could retreat from the mundanity of the real world and instead follow along on epic quests. They were amongst the most common works of fiction, since our ealiest ancestors recorded stories in cave paintings. At least, we *thought* they were fiction. It was nearly 20 years ago now that we learned those early works were legitimate historical records. Nearly 20 years since mankind was placed upon the endangered species list. 20 years since our numbers thinned enough that Magic returned to us.\n\nI was only 7 when it happened, so I don't remember the details too well. What I do remember is the excitement of the grown ups, when it was confirmed that the World Space Agency had picked up a transmission that originated from another planet within our galaxy. Confirmation that intelligent life did exist elsewhere.\n\nA signal was sent in response, and less than a week later we received what was obviously a reply. Well, the scientists absolutely lost their collective shit! It seemed this other species had a way to communicate rapidly even over such a vast distance. Immediately, communications were opened with this unknown society.\n\nIt wasn't long before that excitement turned into panic and fear. Apparently, our new 'pen pals' were none too friendly. A few months after initial contact, enormous vessels filled the sky around the world. They started by destroying every seat of power simultaneously. After that came the culling.\n\nWe numbered 7.8 billion when they arrived. A decade later, there was only 100 million remaining. They decimated us and brought us to the brink of extinction. Our armies were gone. Our ammunition depleted. Our defences barely a hindrance any more. We'd fought back, but their tech was far superior to ours. Our thickest armour barely impeded their weaponry; our weapons struggled to penetrate their defences. Our struggle was obviously in vain, but struggle we did. Our extermination was plain for all to see.\n\nIt was at that point that we noticed it. Nobody can tell when it happened, but it was already happening by the time we realised. We were becoming stronger! Our bodies healed faster, and from wounds that would previously have been fatal. We ran faster and further, capable of carrying incredible burdens without too much difficulty. Our eyesight improved a hundred-fold. We had no idea how or why, but we used it to switch our tactics to more close quarters, guerrilla tactics. We were physically stronger than our invaders now.\n\nUnfortunately, we were still massively outnumbered. We could now easily kill any of those bastards in 1-to-1 combat, but when faced with 100 of them shooting at you, there's little one can do. We continued to drop like flies, only able to make a small dent in their numbers.\n\nAs more of us died, those who survived got stronger and stronger. Until, finally, one woman took out an entire platoon of the fuckers at once. Nobody agrees on who she was, or her name, but all agree on one thing. Alone and surrounded, having stayed behind to keep her pursuers busy while her children fled, she was the first to tap into the well of mana that we now know all humans share. Her literal explosive demonstration was the first step to the rest of us learning to consciously draw out the power. And once we learned, our tormentors rued the day they set foot on our planet!",
"Timothy coughed, blinking as he lifted his head. He shouldn't be lifting his head. Why was he still here?\n\nLagos was ash and twisted steel frames. Fires were dotted throughout the rubble. He rolled over and saw it - the Zentharian battlecruiser, split in two. They had won. How?\n\nHe stood, slowly, his head pounding. One of his eyes was shut, and his hand came away bloodied. How had they won? Why was he still alive? Where was everyone else?\n\nThe last thought had barely left his mind before an arrow of blue light shot from his chest, zipping across the scorched earth to the centre of the alien ship. Surprised, he stumbled back, tripping on a broken chunk of concrete and steel rebar. He pushed himself back upright and squinted with his good eye, but the line still glowed faintly on the ground.\n\nWhat did he have to lose? He took a wavering step, then another. He found his stride on the shifting ash, slowly making his way towards the ship. In the middle of the shattered husk was a girl, curled up in an impact crater. She couldn't have been older than fourteen, her short black hair oddly neat against her pale skin given the utter destruction. Even more remarkable was the rise and fall of her frail chest. He slowly reached out, hesitating a second. His dark hand dripped blood, and it seemed wrong to stain the already scorched shirt. He shook the thought from his mind, easily scooping up the girl and carrying her from the wreckage. \n\n******\n\nThey watched the last lights blink out from the top of Mauna Kea. There were only a few dozen left, every face etched into Timothy's memory. How they had stood time and time again, defying all odds to throw the invaders back once more. And it was over. There was no doubt about that. By the last year of the war, the Zentharian ships were crewed by convicts and POWs. By the last month, they weren't even trained to fire a pulse rifle, if they were lucky enough to get one. They sued for peace once the humans got a ship working - no one let on that their powers were negligable outside the magnetosphere. \n\n\"We did it!\" Satori, he'd be the first to speak. He'd lasted all of a half hour before admitting he was a third-generation Canadian who had taken his name from some sort of cartoon.\n\n\"What's next?\" Mia this time. The quiet Peruvian girl who carried a short braid on a necklace.\n\n\"I'm so sorry.\" That was a voice Timothy was not expecting, especially laden by sorrow as it was. Chyou was not the remorseful sort. Might've been when her family was alive either. He turned to regard the girl, just in time to see the first sliver fly. It took out Chen and Carrie, and the next drove through Sofia's head. The rest were slow to react, and slower to account for the increase in power. A dozen were blown clean off the hill, and a hail of flaming arrows took out another four. Mia summoned a shield of spinning runes around the survivors, just in time for her body to crumble into dust. Satori tried to fight, summoning a long red blade as he lept forwards. Chyou didn't even spare him a glance as she sent another silver lance through his heart. Timothy watched it, numb to it all. Her hair was longer now, but it still always seemed to fall into place as she moved. Soon he was alone again, as the last gurgle died off. It couldn't have been more than a few seconds. He slowly raised his head, just in time to see the spike coming. He didn't feel it as it passed through his chest. As his mind faded, he summoned one last spell.\n\nA blue arrow raced across the light brown dirt to Chyou's feet. It flared once, then died with the caster.",
"As the power within grew. As more and more were killed. we were still no match for them. the handful that remained decided there must only be one. one person who had domain over the entirety of the power one would be able to stop them. it would mean the end of the human race but they would not get our planet. the people took their life and the one gained the the power. the one went forth but there was no resistance all around they just keeled. Upon reaching the main ship the doors were open inviting the one inside. when the throne came into view the one fell to the ground and cried. sitting on the throne was not an alien but a human. a human with its own power from another world the entire invasion force was all human each the last of their worlds. do not cry said the ruler you are home now.\n\ni know im terrible with grammar sorry just had to get this out",
"Salmonella, simple salmonella! But it was the one thing these alien bad boys couldn't handle, their gut systems too underdeveloped to handle a simple pathogenic bacteria.\n\nThe magic was strong in the survivors of the great war: Lenny, Phil Beeterson, Jobby and Lady. With a click of their fingers they could render any plate a scrambled eggs a hot mess of disease to infect these bad alien men.\n\nAfter the war was over, Jobby and Lady settled down to have kids. Lenny and Phil Beeterson made artificial vaginas from twigs, twine and peat and they had a whale of a time to be sure.\n\nThanks for reading everyone! Part 2 if anyone is interested.",
"I remember that the first thing i felt was a sudden tingling on the palm of my hands,after it grew stronger...and stronger until someting brilliant surged out of them.\n\nBlue flames,a ball of blue flames were floating over my very hands,they were warm but despite how close they were to my skin they didnt burned it,the felt simply warm.\n\nI was 19,so i’ve had seen countless spetial effect that looked like that in movies and TV series but that was just in front of me,it was real.\n\nThe life/death scenario i was put on before,when that alien started to shoot his space gun or whatever the hell it was,towards me must of activated someting in me.\n\nI was sitting on the floor,the alien was running straight towards me,i was scared,surprised and confused because of that weird blue flames but i didnt had time for questions in that moment\n\nI had the sensation that i could use them as a weapon against that thing.\n\nAnd if i could do that,that was the only thing i cared about in that moment.\n\nI got up on my legs even if my whole body was shaking,that might be my last moments and i havent lived all my life trough to die like that,that infuriated me “i will not die here” i said to myself.\n\n-Come on blue flames,show me what you can do-ive whispered to myself\n\nThe blue flames grew stronger and bigger,they were of the size of a basketball,i started to count...\n\n3...\n\n2...\n\n1...\n\nI felt a sudden silence for a second,i threw them towars the alien while screaming,but the space gun were faster and blew up my skull.\n\n\nOr at least that was what I thought,with my eyes closed i was able to hear a huge explosion and felt beigh pushed back.\n\ni knew that i was alive,i was reliefed but it wasnt over yet,so then i opened my eyes and the first thing i saw was that the alien’s yellow head did completely blew up with his blue body fluids all over the place and his body was laying on the floor,dead.\n\nI couldn’t believe it,suddently there was a tiny ray of hope for the human race,i needed to find others like me,”we really can win this war” i thought to myself.\n\nAs much of afraid and confused i were i absolutely knew that i had a mission from that very moment:clearing the surface of earth of that f***ing aliens.",
"That is when the traveller arrived. Seeking both refuge and protection, it granted some of the survivors the power of its light. These people have become known as the guardians. Defenders of the Traveller, wielders of the light, and last hope for humanity...\n\nIf you want more, please PM me. For the small fee of 34.99, I will give you the discounted “Paragraph 2 & 3” bundle deal. Limited time only...",
"The sound of a bell signified the beginning of a ceremony was about to commence. This year was the hundred year anniversary of a memorial, dedicated to the reclaimation of Earth from extraterrestial invaders.\n\nThe once charred Earth had bounced back. Shelters became towns, cities are being reconstructed, but while peace had returned, the thought of humans falling into extinction had only begun to dissapate. Though humans were able to rely on mana, a biological energy source thought to only be a myth, it had been discovered the power was fading, and many had scrambled to find solutions to prevent this.\n\nStill, the citizens of old towns were merely concerned with celebrating their continued existance.\n\n\"I'm surprised your mom doesn't have you 'baking your ass off' like last year, Anny.\" Anabelle laughed while trying to repress last year's ceremony. As someone from a long line of fire elementals, her duty was to make food. \"Mom said she'd take it easier this year, if only because we had too much last year. I may have also told her a certain knight was expected to be touring tomorrow.\"\n\n\"Oh yeah, that too\" the girl replied, turning her head up. Unlike elementals, \"knights\" used mana in its purest form, enhancing their physical prowess and creating weapons that were vital for defeating the extra terrestials. While Anabelle would be expected to cook or help in a forge, her friend was expected to take care of any remaining aliens.\n\n\"I'll miss you, Mary\" Anabelle sighed, before hugging her friend from the back. \"I'll only be gone a couple years. When I come back, I'm taking you to one of those big cities.\" Mary had broke the hug, turned around, and kissed Anabelle. \"I love you Anny.\"\n\n\"That was the last thing she had said to me.\"\n",
"Magic has been with mankind for as long as it has existed, especially in the hearts of children. It amazes them at the incredible unknown and fuel their desire for adventure. It was the magic of literature and film that inspired young children to look to the stars and dream of endless exploration through the galaxy. It was the magic of technological discovery that enabled these children to start on a great quest through the stars. With great pride humanity took its first steps into the cosmos and these children left their homes. But in doing so much attention was directed at humanity from afar, and great suffering followed. \n\nIt was during this time that the children of humanity discovered True Magic. The desire to protect their loved ones awakened strange powers in their hearts and fueled a new period of adventure through the stars. What future awaits the remnants of humanity? What dangers will these brave children face, and where will their adventure take them? Each generation of man must place its future in the hands of children. With great pride in their hearts the children of Earth take on this future, and our story begins. ",
"When the voices first started echoing in my head, I thought I'd just finally gone insane. I was pinned underground during the first wave. The city was annihilated, buildings crumbled, and millions died. I don't know how long I was trapped in the dark before the voices started; I was so lonely I just wanted to hear her voice again. What I heard instead were voices full of regret and longing for the things and people they had lost. I couldn’t make the voices go away and when they started dwindling I began to panic, because I knew I'd be alone again. In desperation I reached out for her and there she was or what was left of her. Then I really did go insane.\n\n\n\nI don't remember much during the second wave, ships the size of cities descended from the sky like snowflakes falling. It was so quiet and I just wandered through the rubble holding her, we were going to have kids, we were going to grow old together, and now I can't even find a place to bury her. That's when I saw my first aliens; they kind of looked like a mix between a giant lobster and a saxophone. I swear one was laughing at me, but it didn't laugh very long before it started screaming. I guess it was screaming, but it may have just been the air escaping. I'll hand it to them, the rest of them didn't hesitate they hit me with everything they had and took off an arm, but they died easier than the first one. As I reattached my arm I woke up to what was happening, not just to the earth, but to me. I could manipulate matter, or rather I could command it and I was growing stronger. \n\n\n\nMonths and maybe years passed before the third wave started and during that time I found some other humans, they had become like me, but different. One of them could even stop time, but she could not go backwards, so it didn’t matter. We were the third wave and we were unstoppable. I could almost feel sorry for those poor creatures we slaughtered, but everything I had known was gone; even my pity and compassion were just strange memories. She was gone and no one left could hold a candle to her. None of them had given up everything for me, none of them were carrying my child, and none of them could forgive me for not being there; though some tried. Now that it's over I still don't understand what happened; Alien invasion, apocalypse, or maybe I’m stuck in some kind of nightmare. I can’t go back, I can’t go forward, and I can’t die. All I can do is sit here and wait. I don’t even know what I’m waiting for.\n",
"At first, we thought the virus had been natural. Then, we thought it was a weapon created by terrorists or a rogue state. Later we blamed the old superpowers, certain one of them had accidentally released it from the depths of one the cold war labs. It wasn't until the first ship landed that we realized the truth.\n\n----\n\n\"Did he give the order yet?\" Roshan was three feet deep in the mud, whispering to Alan over the sound of the rain. The gully was the only cover across the field, but the Washington weather wasn't making this mission any easier.\n\nThrough a break in the tree line they could see the empty husk of Seattle just above the looming white surface of the alien ship landed in front of them. It was boxy and uneven, rectangular sections bolted together at irregular intervals, like a UPS truck turned inside-out during Christmas, Elmer's glue and holding all the packages against the frame.\n\n\"Not yet.\" Alan replied. \"We're still waiting on the diversion from Team B.\"\n\nRoshan turned over in the mud and looked over the trees behind them. He wished once again to be back in London. Not like it was now, a crypt for millions. Like it had been before the Quarantine. When the only team he had to care about was Manchester, playing on a field about this size. Drinking a real beer. Keeping them dry from the rain by holding an umbrella Mary...\n\nHe blinked. Focusing again on the trees. He blinked again, this time not just from the water in his eyes. \"Alan, I think that tree moved.\"\n\n\"Of course it moved, we're in a stor-\" Alan started, but Roshan threw a hand over his mouth. Roshan grabbed Alan's far shoulder and pulled him around see the trees.\n\n****\n\nAt first Alan saw nothing just tress swaying in the wind. Then one definitely moved closer. It must be falling, but it was too far away to land on them. There was no need to get worked up about-\n\nAnother tree staggered forward, this one much closer. Alan thought he could hear the sound of branches breaking. Still it was just another tree falling in the storm, what did Roshan expect?\n\nThen the first tree stood back up. Alan could swear it was closer than it had been before.\n\nBy now Roshan's grip on Alan's mouth had fallen limp. Alan could hear Roshan frantically praying to the Hindu gods. Alan tried to calm them both down. The mission had them on edge. \"Must be a trick of perspective. Trunk is just caught on the other trees. Looks just as tall as before, even though it fell, now that it is closer.\n\nThe second tree took its own two step lurch forward. That was definitely not a trick. That tree was definitely coming for them. He grabbed Roshan and pulled them both to the edge of the gully where the mud was not as deep. Behind him he heard the whole forest groan with a huge collective creak of trunks and bark bending under a great strain. Then suddenly a wave of gunshot like cracks rolled over them, like every tree in the wood had just snapped at the stump. But when he looked back all of the trees were still upright.\n\nAnd closer.\n\nHe tore at the muck on the side of the gully, trying to get back to the culvert they had shimmied thru beside the access road. Roshan immediately started to follow, extricating himself from the mud as quickly as possible. There was no way they hadn't given away their position, but they didn't care. Pure terror was the only commanding officer they knew. They'd probably drown in the culvert now as the rain continued to pound down, but it'd be better than whatever was about to happen out here in the rapidly shrinking field. The forest was driving out the last bits of cloud covered sunlight into pine needled shadow. The trees on the far side of the ship were making the same inexorable advance. He turned one last time before entering the culvert to see the roots of the trees crawling like snakes across the grass, the trunks lumbering like elephants behind them.\n\nRoshan shoved past him into the metal pipe, screaming something about the Celtic Druids of ancient Britannia come alive. Alan pulled himself inside as the first tree reached the ship. It swung a huge branch down and immediately crushed a section.",
"T’amir stiffened, the focus of his eyes drifting from a symbol hanging from the wall in front of him.. Doubt had crept into his mind as he felt the sensation leave his outstretched arm. He scowled slightly, letting out an audible sigh before he felt a presence drift in behind him. \n\n“Keep trying, T’amir. Syncing with the mana flow is the most difficult part of utilizing it. Once you accomplish that, manipulating it is as simple as a brush stroke.”\n\nT’amir turned to face a rather elderly man draped in a purple robe. A pendant filled with blue liquid hung from his neck. With every hobble it seemed to shimmer in the dim lighting of the underground cavern.\n\n“And what of the constructs, old man? Do you think we...do you think I can create something big enough, something strong enough to take down the ship hovering over Chicago?”\n\nThe elderly man nodded, and reassuringly placed one hand on T’amir’s shoulder. A gentle smile unfolded across his lips. He suddenly stopped and took a step back.\n\n“Try again, I want to see your from, and do not let your eyes leave that symbol.”\n\nT’amir sighed again, this time the audible tone nearly reverberated against the cave walls. Inhaling, he took a step forward and stretched his arm out while steadying his breath. The inhalation was deep, for about seven seconds before he held it for four, then released it in seven more.\n\nHe could feel a tingling sensation as something flowed over every nerve, it was familiar and something he had experienced multiple times before. It was akin to grasping the hand of a loved one, but any emotion - fear, doubt, anger - would lose that grip. He closed his eyes and began his second round of breathing. \n\n*Inhale* Tendrils enveloped his arm, the ends gently lapping at the contours of his fingers. \n\n*Holding that breath* He felt the edges encircle his hand, gripping tighter, the edges tickling his palms. \n\n*Exhale* His eyes widened and he felt the tingling sensation grow warmer. His arm was now wrapped in what felt like a vibrating blanket. \n\n“The-there it is...” the elderly man’s voice stammered beside him, “Now, let go...”\n\nThe elderly man’s words became distorted as Ta’mir felt the blanket grow and encircle his body, the warmth spreading like fire. The symbol hanging on a fine leather lace glowed slightly in his vision, burning its meaning into his brain. At first he panicked and his breathing quickened until the blanket covered him, bit by bit, swirling until it twisted in shape and constricted, sinking into him and bringing about an uncanny calm. When the process finished, he let out a deep moan and nearly fell backward, losing his balance before the elderly man stepped forward to brace him. \n\n“You’ve done it, T’amir! I can feel the connection to the mana flow in you.”\n\nT’amir let out a sigh of relief and stepped forward, angling himself upright and away from the elderly man. \n\nAlthough the process had left him very exhausted, the new flow of energy coursing through his body seemed to stave off any kind of desire for rest. He looked down seeing a blue tinted aura enveloping his body. \n\n“Now, create the fire symbol for a simple flare.”\n\nHe took the same stance as before, stretching his arm out. He began his breathing routine, his mind focusing on the symbol as the calm unfolded upon him, and his mind drifted.\n\nHe felt confident, more so than he ever felt before. In the old days he had, like most others, lost hope for retaliation against the Srawn. They had come suddenly, two decade prior, and within five years they had wiped out the majority of the human population. \n\nA few of the larger population centers had grown into colonies. His was Chicago. At a young ago, he was given away, sold to the elderly man on the promise of shelter, regular meals and hope by his parents. They still believed, but in his heart he just wanted an escape from the colony ghetto. \n\nThe elderly man had seen something in T’amir. He said his aura resonated with his pendant of “blue blood”, or whatever he called it, that hung around his neck. \n\nMaybe he was right. \n\nAs T’amir focused, the wandering of his memories lightly touching the back of his mind, the symbol shimmered to life before him. This one was different than the physical symbol hanging from the ceiling. It seemed to appear in mid-air as a shimmering white light and within moments, the hue of changed to a bright orange color.\n\nThe sensation of letting go overcame him as he felt the grip tighten. He held tight to it, adamant in unrelinquishing the flow of mana. The longer he held out, the brighter the symbol became. When he finally let go, the symbol flashed in an instant out of existence and was followed by a voluminous “boom” which knocked him off balance and sent him to the ground. \n\nHe coughed a bit, and looked up seeing a haze of dust. Standing up, he brushed off his pants, briefly turning to face the elderly man. \n\nTo his surprise, the elderly man face was twisted into a state of shock and awe. \n\nT’amir furrowed his brow and followed the elderly man’s line of vision to the wall thirty feet from them. He could see a large flickering shape in the middle of blackened and scorched stone. The flickering shape bubbled and dripped down the curve which now adorned the stone wall.\n\n“Y-you turned it m-molten.” The elderly man finally spoke, eyes still wide in disbelief. \n\nHe stumbled forward and began laughing hysterically. \n\nTa’mir looked at him quizzically then at the wall. \n\n“So...that was a good thing, that thing I did?” He pointed to the scorched crater. \n\nThe elderly man smiled.\n\n“Yes, very much so...now, let’s work on our constructs.”\n",
"\"D'you hear?\" Kira's mother Janna, whispered. Her shadow casted from the fire, dancing under the night sky. Kira lay hidden, peeking through the cracks of the poorly made tent from old tires and rusted metals. Kira could only see her mother's shadow casted on her dad face. The same face he made when there was trouble. Kira's instincts were correct unfortunately. An early night was not usual. \n\n\"What could it be this time?\" she thought. \"No food? Masters? Or worse, scavengers?\" She grimaced at the thought of another scavenger encounter. She moved a little which caused a spark on her fingertips. She jerked from the surprise. \n\"No, no, not about Kira, we're you even listenin' to the neighbors Jorah? It's about the zombie boy.\" Janna says, lowering her voice even more. Kira perked up, recognizing the tale. The burning wood cracked, splitting the silence.\n\"they swear they saw 'im Jore. Scarred skin and all. From top to bottom they said.\"\n\"That's all rats and bubbles y'know, tall tales and the like.\" Jorah interrupted. Janna scoffed.\n\"Tall tales?\" She whispered menacingly. \"It's the end of the fucking world Jore. We're living in one sorry ass tale. I'm tellin you though, I believe 'im.\"\n\"We got too much things to worry about love. I mean who knows whats out there. For as long as I can remember, we've been running from our masters.\" Jorah's eyes glossed from the returning nightmares. He quickly shakes it off. \"I'm sure they caught one and did shit to him.\" Jorah was frazzled. He rubs his face gently, trying to caress the problems away. He thought of the next few days. The caravan would have to move as soon as sunrise since they made a fire to survive the cold. They would need to hunt soon as well. To put the shitty cherry on top, Jorah noticed some guys eyeing his daughter. This warmed his blood. \"Our priority is Kira and ourselves. Did you see Lucian eyeing Kira. If that son of a bitch comes near us, I swear he'll be eyeing my shotgun.\"\nKira knew about this Ofcourse. She was not stupid. In fact, she was smarter than most. She has an eye for technology, driven by the curiosity of how it works. A few days ago, Kira found a small plastic rectangle, with a cracked glass screen. She knew that it was old technology and she wanted to tinker with it. Kira quietly crawled in her sleeping bag and took out the small machine, studying it. She was thinking. Imagining a hostile encounter with Lucian and how she would take the hidden knife tucked behind her shirt and stab the unsuspecting asshole. She smiled a little and drifted off to sleep. \n\n\"Doesn't it tickle your fancy a little? It's a boy covered in scars like leather, from top to bottom, naked as the moon, skin as red as blood, eyes yellow like an animal.\" Janna grinned, flailing her arms like a desperate preacher. Jorah laughs, feeling a little better. \n\n\"Maybe it's a master child. We never saw the masters bear children.\" He humours Janna. Janna taps her leg, gesturing for Jorah's tired head. \n\"Sleep tonight. I'll keep watch eh?\" Jorah didn't mind that at all and rests his head on Janna, blanketed by the slowly dying fire.\nHis wife smiles and continues telling the zombie boy story that they've heard many times. Jorah shuts his eyes. \n\nJorah wakes from a faint shriek. He was covered by a sleeping bag. He could feel his wife's strong hands grabbing on to him. She shushed him. \n\"Scavengers.\" Janna says. Her voice sounded confident and alert. Jorah slowly uncovered his face then he turned to a prone position. He could see search lights in the nearby woods. Winter made it easier to see enemies but means it's also easy for them. \nJanna was also prone, covered in a black blanket behind some tall grass. To their right, about 5 meters away was 2 men, prone, gun at the ready and hidden as well. There were 5 other groups, spread out on the field, ready for the worst. \n\"Didn't realize they were so close.\" Kira crawls silently to her parents. \n\"D'you take down the tent?\" Her mother asks with a commanding tone. \n\"I wouldn't have come if I didn't would I.\" she snaps back. Janna looks back at her and gives her one of those 'we'll talk about this later' look. \n\"They must've walked through the night, wouldn't have caught up to us otherwise.\" Jorah explains. \"Who got scavenged?\" he added. \n\"Could've been them Dalik girls. They camped in the woods, thinking it was safer.\" Janna says. \"Pity. They were nice to us.\" \n\"Shush love.\" Jorah flattens his body, telling his family with his eyes to do the same. \nJanna readies her rifle. Kira, her pistol. Search lights covered the field back and forth. Only thing they could see were tires, metal pieces, cold fire pits and random debris.\n\"See 'nytin mon?\" A lanky man behind the other man with the flashlight says. \n\"No. Just a bunch of junk.\" He raises one hand, forming an O with his fingers and shines his light on it. \n\"For fucks sake, we only got enough for 2 days! I thought you said it was smokes galore?\" A man with a deep voice calls from the woods. A group of voices cusses and groans. \n\n\"Shit, it's a whole clan.\" Jorah whispers. The other hidden families and groups readied their weapons. Faint crying can be heard nearby. \n\"Shut him up Gwyn.\" Janna calls their neighbour. \n\"I'm trying!\" Gwyn replies with fear down her throat. Gwyn's 5 year old son, Scott was wrapped in a sleeping bag, hidden from sight. Gwyn assures him that it is okay. That he is safe. \n\nThe two scavengers nearest to the field turn around, backs away from the families. \"Fuck it all, we've got two anyhow. The rest must've kept walking.\" the one with the lights say, a hint of sour in his voice. \"Well get 'im morrow.\"\n\"You wouldve thunk they'd mass up you know. Like cattle.\" the other man smirks. They continue walking towards the woods, laughing and snorting. \n\"I admit it's a little fun when they run.\" one of them laughs. \nKira was furios. She was friends with the Daliks'. Her brow furrowed and she tightened her pistol grip. \nOne of the scavengers, while arguing with another, turns around pointing at the fire pits. \"Well they obviously left di'int they?\" When he saw a pulsing light near one of firepits. \"Wait a sec, what's that?\" He points at the soft green light. \n\n\"Why is he pointing at us?\" Jorah panics. Janna looks behind and her eyes shot out of their sockets. \n\"Kira your damn pockets!\" \nKira looks down and finds a pulsing green light emanating from her pockets. She covers it. \"It's that weird machine I found!\" Kira takes it out and puts it face down on the dirt. \"That's impossible.\" She thought. \"Why would it turn on like that!\"\n\"Were fucked. At the ready folks.\" Janna aims. \n\nThe scavengers yipped, loud and savage like. A bunch of them came out of the woods, guns loaded and bows drawn. \nThey walk cautiously towards the now dead light. \n\n\"Mum, I'm sorry.\" Kira cries. Her hands shaking violently at the sight of the nearing scavengers. \n\"There must be at least 20 of them.\" Jorah's face screamed hopelessness. \"That's near double ours and that's including the younguns. What do we do Janna?\" \n\n\"We kill or be killed.\" \n\"But-\" Janna interrupts him. \n\"Kill, or be killed love.\" Janna aims down her sights and shoots one scavenger perfectly between the eyes. The scavengers drop to a prone. Some are crouched. The rest of the group starts shooting at the scavengers. Bodies dropping. Some quietly, some screaming in agony. \nOnce the enemies stopped panicking, they start shooting back. Gun shots riddled the entire field. Many families were killed almost instantaneously. They could now tell to aim for what looked like dirt mounds as gunfire provided lighting for both sides. \nSome scavengers charged at Janna. Jorah stopped them with his shotgun. Gutting them in one shot. \nJanna stayed focused. Not jarred from the terrifying screams. Headshot after headshot she made. Aiming exactly two inches above wherever there was gunfire. \nThen, a stray bullet hit Janna in the left shoulder. \n\"Fuck me.\" She clenched her teeth from the pain. She groaned and gave her rifle to Jorah. \"Keep shooting love.\" Jorah took the rifle and nodded. Janna painfully crawled backwards near Kira. \n\"Kira, listen closely, take our bag and get outta here.\" Janna explains, grabbing Kira by the arm. Her strong grip told Kira that there was no arguing. \n\"Mum.\"\n\"Don't you dare.\"\n\"Dad!\" Jorah was not listening. But he could tell. \n\"I want to fight with you.\" Kira sobs. Lost in the situation and in denial. \n\"Kira do as I say, now!\" Her mother screams.\"Or were all fuckin dead y'hear?\" \nKira's intent to kill never reached this point. Sorrounded by death and uncertainty, she could feel something hot and sharp forming inside her. She wished so badly for the enemies to just burn and disappear. She wished so badly to spend another time with her parents and to apologize to her mum for being an ass. \nShe slammed her fists hard on the dirt and screamed from the bottom of her lungs. \n\nA flash so bright blinded Janna and Jorah. Immideately followed by scorching heat and what sounded like the loudest gun shot they've ever heard. Almost like thunder but near. Janna and Jorah quickly rolled away from the heat. The scavengers started shaking and screaming violently and dropped all at once. \nThe gun shots immideately stopped and silence filled the air. \nKira was passed out. Underneath her fists was burnt grass and dirt, extending towards the scavengers, zigzagging around her parents like veins under the skin. Up ahead, smoke rose from the burnt bodies. Some still had the glowing heat in them, slowly fading. \n",
"I knew the world didn't love me by the time I was a young man. I did everything I was supposed to, but the system still failed me. Of course it did - there was absolutely nothing I could offer that a couple million other people couldn't do better. When my wife left me, she gave me that old line - \"I've found someone else.\" Of course she had. She could have picked a man at random and, chances are, she would have found a better one. It was only a matter of time.\n\nI think that's why I lived. There was no reason to kill me. I didn't join a militia, I didn't fight back. I cared about the war effort, but not enough to really do anything. When the last few brave men lost their lives on the short grass prairie and in the volcanic Mexican deserts and in the Canadian badlands, that was about it for the Resistance. There were maybe a thousand humans in hiding around the world. Death came and spared me because I wasn't worth the trouble of reaping.\n\nIronic, isn't it? We all want to believe in a just world - we'd all like to think that the greatest heroes survive - but it's just me. And I was one of the few who inherited the great Human Power.\n\nFire. That's what I can control. I can conjure monsters of flame and burn anything to ashes. Pretty cool, huh?\n\nI should go and use it against them. I should go and take some revenge. But why? The sun will still be hot and I will still be hungry and the fine gray dust will still be everywhere.\n\nConfucius talked about \"filial piety.\" He meant that children have a responsibility to their parents and elders. I can relate to that because I'm feeling a little bit of it right now, but for my whole civilization. The old heroes, the old gods, they tell me to fight. Dylan Thomas tells me \"Do not go gentle into that good night.\" Odysseus and Achilles and Socrates and Plato and Newton and Descartes and Picasso and Hemingway and Churchill and Roosevelt and Washington and Lincoln and Nietzsche all ride on my shoulders. But they're heavy. And I don't think I can carry them.\n\nI have that strength which in old days moved Earth and Heaven. But I don't think I'm the man to use it. I think I will stay here, on the ground, in the dust, and wait for the end to come. ",
"Everyone on earth had called me a coward.\nA man who surrendered to the aliens, a man who had sold out humanity. The man who had caused the deaths of thousands of people.\n\nI remember watching the last man on earth die, a celebration for the alien force that had invaded, a bug scraped off of their shoes.\n\nAnd as that man died, I felt something within me, something big. Then, light blinded me, and everything around me was dead.\n\nY'know as the sun explodes, and the aliens start to panic, I'm left here waiting for that grim liberation. I have one thought. \n\n\"How ironic is it that the man who doomed humanity would avenge it?\"",
"When the aliens arrived, humanity was helpless to stop them. They killed as they pleased, taking out entire countries and even continents. Within weeks the population of Earth was down to 1,000.\n\nAnd they were the most powerful 1,000 people who ever lived, armed with the mana that was now concentrated within them.\n\nAfter that, the aliens left. But they left behind a single, strange device. One that they told the survivors would allow whoever held it to multiply their magical strength many, many times higher than it already was. Naturally, everyone wanted to become a god.\n\nMinutes after the alien's announcement and departure, hell broke loose. Landscapes were reshaped and destroyed by the battles that occurred around the planet. By the time the sun set, the remaining 483 humans stood in a barren wasteland. \n\nThe device that started this free-for-all war was located at the North Pole in an incredibly sturdy container, deep in the ice. It took only seconds for the woman who found it to melt the frozen sea and raise it to the surface. But before she could open its alien metallic prison, she was sent flying into space by another human's spell. The worst battle in all of known history was fought that day. \n\nAs more people died, the fight became fiercer and fiercer. When the number of spellcasters reached 205, a fire spell melted the ice caps. At 167, a tsunami washed away the mountains and rocks. At 104, a plague was created, taking the number down to 45. Then the world split in two. Magma was pulled up and put a swift end to most of the remaining combatants. And then there were three.\n\nOne was compacted into a tiny cube with a single thought. Another dies after their heart was magically ripped out. And the last one vaporized in the mana-created heat they could not control.\n\nAfter their powerful enemies defeated themselves fighting over a useless metal brick, the aliens returned, bringing with them a human they had brought aboard their ship years ago. This human was the purest, most kind-hearted to ever exist. She now had near infinite power. And after saying goodbye to her home planet, which was now unrecognizable, she brought peace and order to the universe, Her universe.\n\n\nThis is my first time writing on this subreddit, and I don't think its particularly good. Any feedback you have would be greatly appreciated.",
"The problem with humans is their curiosity. Even after a new species from the stars reigns hell upon every continent, impaling billions on the ends of their spears, curiosity still prevails. When enough people finally lay dead in the streets the survivors came to a realization. Every time someone died it allowed a little more magic to flow through the human race's veins. Bringing us back to the plight and pillar of humanity, curiosity. Or more specifically the curiosity of one Oleg Bishopi, Ph.D. and the charming young girl just waking up among the piles of medical equipment and samples strewn across his basement. \n\n\"Wonderful\" The Doctor cheered through a thick accent, \"We can begin\"\n\n\"Mmmph\" responded the girl through tightly wrapped bandages. Her eyes were wide with fear, something restraining her neck forcing her gaze to the ceiling. She tried to move her legs and felt something entirely new. She attempted to kick her leg and instead felt four legs react. Each one longer than they should be. She tried the other to the same response, only on the other side. \n\n\"Your name is Platythomisus Sapien and I am your father\" The Doctor stated.\n\nThe girl looked at him for a moment, searching for some piece of information to cling onto. An immediate feeling in her chest told her opposite. A moment in time flashed through her mind, cheap birthday streamers clinging to the walls, a handmade lopsided cake, and her father. A tall man in a light green button down, his brown hand on her shoulder with a smile behind his thick mustache. She opened her eyes again, the man in front of her was not her father. His skin was akin to snow, and he had the figure of a beer bottle. He wore a light blue coat that reached his ankles with an apron over top, slick with blood. Thick rubber gloves clung to his hand. \n\n\"You'll notice the improvements\" He smiled, gesturing towards her lower half.\n\nShe jerked against the instrument around her neck. The doctor made a small noise as if just remembering her restraints. He paced over to her and placed a gloved hand around her neck, the other behind her. She heard a click, and suddenly her head was free. She stared down. Her stomach was bare. Her eyes crept down to her waistline, where her skin abruptly became a sickening yellow. Her legs were gone, instead, a large mass took their place. The yellow mass held large black dots across it. Eight spindling legs stretched out with three joints each. At the second joint the leg shifted to a jet black. She screamed.\n\n\"Silence, girl\" The doctor commanded. \n\nShe did not quiet. She flailed her many legs and ripped at her own waist, trying to break free. The doctor stumbled backward. She tore off the restraint at her neck. The doctor began to scramble through his desk. The girl shoved a hand into her waist, amazed at her own strength. Hot blood trickled onto her new arachnid bottom. She pushed hard, a ripping pain seared through her. She screamed louder. The doctor retrieved a needle and thrust it into a nearby bottle. \n\n\"I SAID SILENCE!\" He cried back.\n\nShe grabbed the back of his neck with her bloodied hand. She slammed him into the cement wall. The sound of snapping bones rang out. \n\n\"Why\" She grunted, holding her other hand against her fresh wound.\n\n\"You already had the magic\" He began, trying to pull his head free from the cement. \"You could summon spiders. This was just an experi-\"\n\nThe girl pushed him harder. Another cracking sound, she dropped the limp body. She stared back down at herself. A disgusting body covered in blood. The crimson was starting to dry across the bright yellow legs. Her heart sank when she looked down at the man. *Did I mean to?*, she asked herself. It felt like a weight on a hook, dragging her stomach into the floor. She clenched her fists and felt hot tears stream down her face. She leaned on to the wall and sobbed. Her legs seemed to adjust by themselves, almost on instinct. The adrenaline slowly ebbed away as she sank to the floor, more blood smearing across the cement into a floor drain at the center of the room. A light flashed into the room as the one metal door swung open. A boy stepped through, a rifle in his hands prodding the room. He glanced down and yelled out. The girl could hear footsteps down the hall. An older man, a greying beard framing his face, stepped through holding a pistol. His eyes went wide at the sight before him. He turned away for a moment to look at the boy, who in turn was unable to take his eyes off the girl attached to such a horrific abomination. Both seemed too shaken to act. Finally, the boy walked over, gun still firmly in hand. He grabbed the light blue coat hanging off the doctor's corpse and handed it to the girl. She pulled it around her torso and looked down at her wound. The boy almost jumped back.\n\n\"Dad\" He said \"We need to take her to the medicine men\"",
"Our first official contact with them was the day they descended like wasps onto every major metropolitan area and began sucking motherfuckers right off the street. I'm talking people being vacuumed straight up outta their loafers. at first it was a funny sight, but then the drones came down and scoured the entire earth.\nThey processed all but the finest specimen. I was among them , thank Xenu. There were about 1 million of us, they quarantined us in Las Vegas, or what once was Las Vegas.\nIt wasn't long before people started noticing strange happenings. Some claimed to have bent a spoon with their mind, others could share thoughts silently. As the days went on peoples abilities became undeniable.\nThis caught our overseers' eyes. They immediately conducted tests and operations on us, often to fatal results. But as the specimens dwindled our powers grew. We took note of this, but did our best to keep it under wraps.\nOur shrinking mob had no hope, no leader, no organization, not even a common language, but perhaps these powers were our secret ace in the hole. A power shared by all mankind might be enough to do away with these tentacled bastards.\nI myself had been vivisected twice by this point, among countless other ordeals and probes. Needless to say I had had enough. I was also, by that time, able to lift a car with my mind. Ever so slightly, mind you, I would focus all of my will on raising a car on the street just a few millimeters of the ground. so as not to garner suspicion from the eyes in the sky.\nWe all could feel the surge of power when one of our own succumbed to the brutal treatments those monsters put them through. Everyone could feel the power within them, but now it seemed only I was willing and able to use them.\nThe fact that I killed them all so easily is a testament to that. None of them had the power to defend themselves, and had resigned themselves to whatever fate these hentai monster looking sons a bitches had in store for them.\nBut I couldn't let Humanity go down like that, without a fight. I knew if I had the entirety of this power I alone could take them out. I didn't want to kill my own, but its better that it was one of us than one of them that did it.\nI plucked several of their ships from the sky and plunged them into into the ocean. It was an amazing sight. So satisfying. I almost came. But then he came down from upon high and explained the truth of it all to me",
"We do not know the exact year, since time has long been an abandoned concept. But we presume it to be around the 22nd century.\n\nThere is 500 of us left now.\n\n500 humans, out of a world population that used to be over 7 billion. We were outnumbered and outgunned. It was total genocide of the human race itself. \n\nWhat could've provided such unadulterated manslaughter, you ask?\n\nAliens.\n\nFirst came the scouts, in their UFO's in the early 1990's. Satellite's and early photography gave us this weird disc shape that was flying in the sky, we thought them to be oddly angled airplanes. We were wrong.\n\nThen came the army, or the \"droves\", as we like to call them, around 2050. The world was free of war for the first time in the life of country superpowers. Terrorists and acts caused by such were no longer a thing. The world finally got it's peace. That was when the aliens decided to strike. The time to eradicate the human race was when they were at their most peaceful. \n\nUnlike a normal genocide, where prisoners were taken into concentration camps, there were no prisoners. Everyone and everything was destroyed on sight. At first the military all across the world gave a fighting chance. Everyone banded together for a common cause; to avoid human annihilation. But they kept coming. And coming. And coming. Not only were their weapons several ages more advanced than ours, but the mere numbers they had on us gave us no chance in hell. \n\nWhen the world started collapsing, leaders of government banded together to create the 1st allied world leadership. They told us we had to start hiding underground, to avoid eradication. So we did, and we were able to live and survive for a few years before getting hunted again. This time, the end seemed inevitable. Until a bright light came cascading down from the sky and forced itself into all of the remaining humans, turning them into Angels of War. We call them Angels because they had wings made out of pure light, and shot out holy beams from their fingertips. \n\nThis was the turning point in humanity.\n\nThis was when we started winning the fight for good. ",
"_This is my first short story. Please be kind. Feedback is highly welcome. :)_\n\n----\n\nMarcus stood there. The smell of the burnt remains of his civilization made it nearly impossible to breath. People, animals, cars, buildings. Absolutely nothing was spared by these creatures that arrived some days ago, out of space. Before trying to kill anyone they started to destroy the infrastructure. Internet, power plants, water supplies and fuel depots burned down before the people started to realize what was going on. And then they became the target. \nNow, on the 7th of August 2018 Marcus was one of the few survivors that were able to flee or hide in underground bunkers. Nobody knew how many actually survived but Marcus was all alone with his dad, his little sister and his girlfriend. The three only got through the inferno by hiding in the small bunker his dad was building for decades. He told anyone that they were coming one day. “It’s written down, everything, in here!” he said now and then while pointing on a weird old book he got from his grandfather from Germany. It was such kind of book you may expect to see in fantasy of medieval themed movies. Written in Latin and with a lot of weird pictures of creatures, animals, the devil and so on. Marcus was interested in the book and his contents but learning new languages was never one of his strengths. Shortly after the alien attacks his dad went crazy, telling Marcus that his time finally came.\n\nA walnut-sized blue, shiny ball, half transparent and looking like a large drop of water hovered in Marcus’ right hand while he was watching the huge alien spaceship heading in his direction. He was calm. He felt more calm, stronger and self-confident than ever before. After a short glimpse at that blue ball in his hand his view turned to the right where his dad and his sister stood. Both were fixed on the spaceship. Both had this expression on their faces that could be literally translated to “Payback time, assholes!” Marcus took a look to his left, to his girlfriend Mina. He smiled at her as she turned her face towards him. She smiled back. Time slowed down. Space and time seemed to bend around the four, standing on that small hill. Marcus turned back to the spaceship, took a deep breath, raised his spread right hand above his head like the other three did and all four shouted the same weird sentence. “Ne quid in rerum natura mater opus”. Let mother nature do her work. And so she did. \nThe blue ball in Marcus’ hand became bigger, like the size of a baseball, then a basket ball. Mina’s dark brown ball, looking like a pile of dirt did the same. His father held a ball of lava and his sister was surrounded by a small cloud. The four elements. Earth, Water, Fire and Air. Mother Nature was alive and the mana running trough the bodies of the four was able to call her powers. Like it was written in the book. Magic. And this magic now turned against the foreign enemies.\nThe four balls began to pulse. Slow, then faster, before glaring strings rose up to the clouds, where the four elements merged and became one, a thick white string, winding like a weak tree in a heavy storm. Just a second later Marcus was hit hard by something that felt like a shock wave, throwing him off his feet and knocking him out.\n\nA cough, then light. Marcus opened his eyes. The clear sky and the bright sun were blinding him. His dad held his head, asking him if he was okay. After some seconds Marcus realized that fresh smell of grass and the slight breeze around him. “Is that a bird singing?” asked Marcus. His dad laughed. Mina kneed besides Marcus, with a lovingly smile on her face. “We did it honey. We did it.”",
"When it first showed up to our sensors, everyone thought it was just an interested asteroid. Sure, it was oblong, and one of the first we'd ever observed, but it was hardly anything special. People speculated that it was an alien ship, but no one really believed it.\n\nThat is, until it spontaneously reversed it's trajectory. One day, it was headed out of the solar system faster than any man made craft. The next, it was hurtling towards Earth with unnatural precision. \n\nThe impact alone wiped out Canada and part of the USA. Debris clouded the atmosphere, and the world went dark. It was few month before it began to spread.\n\nIt wasn't just a space rock or a ship. It was *alive*. And it was hungry. It spread like rot, sucking the life out of everything it touched. Concrete disintegrated, steel corroded to dust, and flames did nothing. Wherever it went, it spewed noxious, toxic gas. Scientists recognized it as a terraforming device. We called it the Plague.\n\n People died in their homes, refusing to leave. People stuck in the traffic of evacuation found themselves trapped in a ring of the creeping rot. It seemed to seek out life, so that it could trap it and kill it. High altitude flight was impossible due to debris, and low altitude was incredibly dangerous, because the gas that permeated the atmosphere above the Plague was impossible to filter.\n\nThe human population steadily shrank, until the only free continent left was Australia. There were less than 10,000 of us when it happened. People began exhibiting strange power. Some could read minds. Others could teleport. Still others controlled the elements. I had the ability to fly. One thing that everyone had in common, however, was to share their energy with each other, from any distance, to boost one another's power.\n\nEventually, one man was found with the power to destroy the Plague. \n\nHis power was unique. It looked like raw energy, and it erased any Plague it came in contact with. He fired it from his hands as beams and blasts of blue or yellow light. Humanity immediately knew what they had to do.\n\nI was one of a team sent with him, comprised of myself, two other fliers, a wind mage to clear the air, a telepath to communicate remotely, and the man himself. Our mission was to fly to the source of the Plague to destroy it once and for all.\n\nThe flight was short. In less than a day, we reached the origin. It was the only feature in a smooth, shiny black wasteland. A pillar of darkness, like a monument to humanities destruction. \n\nAt his command, the telepath broadcast his speech to the rest of humanity. I was the one flying him, and I'll never forget his words.\n\nAs he raised his arms above his head, he bellowed at the top of his lungs.\n\n\"PEOPLE OF EARTH! *LEND ME YOUR ENERGY*!\"\n\nFukin' weebs.",
"There was a shiver creeping its was up my spine, slowly poking at every nerve it crossed. The frequency of the shivers has kept increasing... I’m I think I’m starting to figure out why. \n\n A few days ago, my squad and I had retraced our steps while crossing the Alps, seeking refuge is a cave just a couple hundred feet down the western mountain side. A major blizzard heading toward us, there was going to be no way for us to push through to the Eastern War front in Austria without some of us freezing to death. Anyway, that night is when the Awakening happened. Half of us were asleep, the others on guard, waiting, watching for signs of extraterrestrial life; Zens to be more precise. They showed up only a couple of months ago and already an estimated 880 million people have died. I don’t know the true scientific name for them, but I do know they are a force to be reckoned with. Twice the size of the average human and five times as strong. Bullets can hurt them if you hit the right spot, but even then, they don’t go down easy. We just carry our rifles around to feel a bit safer.\n\n As the night shift took their posts, the rest of us took to our sleep, but not for long. After just 2 hrs of our bodies shocked us awake. I myself awoke to a small fire balls dancing around my finger-tips.\n\n “Oh shit! Jesus, somebody help!” I shouted, flailing my hand around, trying to pat out the flames on my blanket, but it just burst into ashes.\n\n Nobody came, and for a moment, things went silent for me. I took a look around the room. Some of the watch and some of the sleepers, all reacting the same as I was. Stan was bent over, hold a hand full of icicles. Marks arm was sparking with electricity. Jack was trying to calm Stan down, but Jack’s body was filled with purple spots. Each spot was like looking at a flowing river of dark purple sludge. Richie was keeping his distance from the rest of us. It was in that moment that I looked down at my hand and realized the flames didn’t burn. After using common sense, I realized they weren’t even touching me. As soon as it became clear to me, the flames vanished. I turned my attention back to the group who had all realized the same thing. Everyone had calmed down, but we’re breathing heavily.\n\n “What the hell was that?” asked Mark.\n\n I looked at my hand once more, “I have no goddamned idea.”\n\n “That was fucked up man!” Richie shouted, cowering in the back of the cave, “you guys stay the hell away from me!”\n\n “Richie nobody is gonna hurt you man, just take it easy all rig... Richie... your... shit...” Stan muttered, covering his mouth with one hand and brushing the other over his head.\n\n My head turned to Richie. A circular spot on his blue jacket was darker than the rest, and right in the middle, sticking out of his gut, was an icicle. \n\n Mark and Jack rushed to his side, throwing Richie’s weakened arms out of the way as he tried to block them. All I could do was stand there with Stan. We’d seen death before, some of our closest friends had succumbed to it, it wasn’t new to any of us. Mark and Jack could try anything they wanted, but that icicle was too big, and he was losing too much blood.\n\n Mark was the calm one, “Honestly Rich, it’s not that bad, it’s just a flesh wound,” he tried saying with a smile.\n\n “You really think so Jack, it must feel worse than it looks then,” Richie said with a light chuckle.\n\n You could see it in his eyes, the light fading away. His body and mind going numb. He was accepting his fate... being killed by a friend.\n\n “Richie, stay with me man!” Jack yelled, putting pressure around the wound, “You’re not dying on my you got that!”\n\n “Ha... this ain’t a move Mark... words can’t magically heal me... kill some Zens for me will ya?” Richie spoke his last words.\n\n Richie’s body went limp, his head dropping to the side. That was the first shiver. It was different than the normal shiver of death, it was more like a small shock running from my tailbone to my neck, like a shiver of life. I know everybody else felt it too. \n\n “What now?” Stan muttered.\n\n The others all looked at me, “We move on, and we kill some Zens,” I said, looking down at my hand, the flames reignited, a bit bigger than before.\n\nPart 2: Eastern Battle Front\nIf enough people want it.",
"At first, the aliens came in hordes. Wiped out everyone and everything they sensed a heart beat in. I lost my whole family within days, my father was the first to go protecting my older brother, then my mum protecting both of us. My brother and I were on the run for months until we got sloppy, stayed in the same place too long and he died protecting me. Somehow started a fire and took out 6 of those bastard aliens at once, made me proud to be related to him. That was 2 years ago, I’ve been alone ever since. \n.\nThe blood curdling screams of those found make it hard to sleep, the goosebumps that used to cover my skin everytime I heard that scream don’t appear anymore but the knowledge of what is happening to those screaming is a horror in its own. In an effort to drown out those screams I remind myself of the golden rule, move to a new spot every 3 days. When that doesn’t work I focus on my surroundings and close my eyes,I can almost see my surroundings identically in my head. I close my eyes and hope to get some rest for tonight, tomorrow is when I find a new spot.\n.\nI jolt upright, I swear I heard a noise. Everything in the room I slept in has moved around, somethings been here. I get up slowly, crouch low and move around the house. Searching each and every room, i feel different. As if I feel that the room is empty before turning into it. Through my travels I’ve bumped into other people, traded items, bought weapons and been given food. I’ve also heard stories of survivors manifesting powers, magic even. The ability to summon storms or move water, throw fire or read minds. After determining the house is safe I sit down and close my eyes. I picture the house in my mind and focus as hard as I can. A blueprint like imagine appears in my mind, turning and growing, a 3D image replica of the layout. I can see myself sitting next to the tv, my mind zooms into the room in in. This is some crazy shit, I wonder what else I can do. I picture the tv next to me exploding and I focus as hard as I can.\nBOOM.\n\n“Kid! Kid! Wake up!”\nStruggling, I wake up but keep my eyes closed. Fuck that was dumb, blowing up the tv right next to myself yeah, nice one idiot.\n“Oh thank god he’s awake, he blew up a tv next to himself” I can see the young girl sitting next to me, another man pacing in the corner of the room and another, older female sitting down in a chair. I try to open my eyes and the searing pain becomes obvious in my left eye. \n“Glass cut your eye pretty deep, hit the cornea and maybe sliced some nerves. I was only a nursing student so I’m not too sure” the girl says apologetically, I look at her with my right eye and ask her how she knew I blew the tv up, her mother tells me her daughter was a mute her whole life but a couple of months ago she talked for the first time, but it wasn’t with her mouth. It was with her mind. She’s telepathic. They tell me they’ve heard of a colony of people that are gaining powers in the north and that they are heading there, I’m welcome to go with them....\n\nPart 2 if anyone wants it available ",
"\"Nobody knows exactly how long they've been here. By the time they revealed themselves on that fateful day, it was too late. They had infiltrated every facet of our lives, from our neighbourhoods to our government.\n\nShapeshifters. \n\nThey had been our friends, our co-workers, our in-laws. A small colony had landed originally, but their numbers had increased exponentially. We were outnumbered. We were outfought. We were almost completely eradicated.\n\nUntil the awakening.\n\nAs children growing up in the Western world, we had heard stories of magic, of witches and wizards. Arthurian legends of Merlin. In the East, tales of Genii were abound. Dismissed as folklore for generations, we had assumed it was all fairy tales, a way for our ancestors to explain what they did not understand. How wrong we were.\n\nThere is speculation as to why magic has returned, but nobody really understands. One theory I hear the men discuss is that as the number of humans decreased, their power increased. I saw a film along that premise once. I wonder if I'll ever get to see another film, read another book. I wonder if I'll ever be able to relax again at all. Some think that magic returning is God's way of saving humanity. I'm not buying that. I can't believe in a higher power after what I've seen. Where was their fucking God when the aliens first landed? When their numbers grew? WHEN THEY BUTCHERED OUR FAMILIES IN OUR OWN HOMES?? Fuck God. We are the gods now.\n\nOur resistance is small, but it is not the only one. We like it that way. No outsiders. We had been unable to fight them at first. Against their natural, bug-like form, our bullets are useless. In their human form they could be shot, but they acted just like us, *looked* just like us. You could never tell who was one of them, at least not until the power returned. It gave our eyes a reddish glow, marked us from them. Their alien eyes hadn't been able to pick up on it, and we had taken advantage. We butchered thousands of them before they realised we could tell them apart. It wasn't enough. It's never enough.\n\nSome of us have learnt to harness our power, our magic. We can fight the bugs in their natural form, which is how they spend all of their time now. We can break through their carapaces. We can call in the elements at will, rain down fire and brimstone on them. WE CAN BURN THESE UGLY MOTHERFUCKERS FROM THE INSIDE USING ONLY THE POWER OF THOUGHT!\n\nBut they are many, and we are few. And so the battle rages on. I am sending this message out, in the hope that anyone is still listening. In the hope that anyone is still out there at all. \n\nLet us not go down without a fight. They may have us on the back foot for now, but the human race is stronger than you or I ever thought possible! Harness your power! TAKE AS MANY OF THESE ALIEN SONS OF BITCHES DOWN WITH YOU AS YOU CAN!\"\n\n*End Transmission*\n",
"[Part 1]\n\nWhen they came, it was not nearly as one would expect; at least not what the average Joe, Jane, Tom, Dick, or Harry would have expected. Aliens meant fantastically futuristic, didn’t it? They were supposed to have arrived in spaceships descending from orbit and raining death upon us with technological supremacy. They might have landed their ships and been humanoids upon emerging from their crafts, wielding laser guns, or something similar, and decimating us with that technology. Perhaps they would have been more beast like, like something from a Geiger painting…right; charging forth in a beast-like frenzy? \n\nFor all the world, back in early 2015—still very much a technological age for well over 90 percent of the Earth’s inhabitants—they had come sailing through the skies in what looked like ancient clippers, schooners, and similarly designed ships of wood. Fantastic all right; as in what had resembled the dark peoples that might have made up Sauron’s army from The Lord of The Rings trilogy. There were Orc-like creatures, and those with pointy ears and grey skin like evil Elves, and beserker men and women had come off those ships, washing forth upon our continents with sabres, swords, and bows, slaughtering those who’d gotten in the way. Far worse were the Warlocks; men and women in flowing robes of varying black or red hues, depending on their bent for different schools of magic. \n\nEven with the common soldiers, their armors—we’d come to understand later—had been gifted with runic magic, protecting them as they butchered any careless enough to not run away, who thought glocks and shotguns would save them. Of course, governments around the world ordered jets and attack helicopters on those ships, though their machine guns and missiles exploded harmlessly against lavender colored energy shields. When that didn’t work, larger missile strikes from military bases were tried—again, having no effect on the spelled-ships. It did take well over two years, but the Earth’s population had shrunk drastically with each passing month. Of course, something strange had been realized by the dwindling population. Magic of our own was still there, and much more present as 7 billion became 5 within the first year, and to what must be perhaps less than 1 billion now, though technology had all but ceased to function with destroyed satellites, power plants vaporized, and manufacturing plants amongst the first targets of the invaders. We’re fighting back though, with our own magic, as best we can. Our magic manifests differently though, from person to person. While runes are woven with intricate hand gestures, and spells of power are worked when invoking the right words from our enemy, ours manifests quite differently. \n_____________________________________________________\n\n[Part 2 coming right up, after THESE messages...]",
"[Part 2]\n\nJoe Takada hadn’t been much of a man, not really; he’d been a 120 pounds soaking wet, had glasses, and his brain was the only muscle he’d really developed over his 19 years of life. He liked more intellectual pursuits, and that was all that had mattered to him, before the invaders had come. One his favorite passions had been anime; he almost could not have gotten enough of it. With few friends, and little to no love life to speak of, the intricate stories and fluidity of those anime stories had been more of a friend than most people had been. Dragonball Z, Bleach, Naruto; he would much more like to befriend Goku or Ichigo rather than the real people around him. That’d been in 2015, of course. He would have guessed it was close to the end of 2017 now, and his life was much different. Actually, in a way, he’d like to think himself as something like Trunks though, harkening back to Dragonball Z. He wasn’t in the future, but the present was desolate now, with more buildings hulking piles of rubble than whole now—to Joe it seemed as a mirror to the future Trunks had come from. He’d even taken to wearing a sword on his back, and wearing a purple jacket, much like his favorite character from that anime. After all, he was very much like a character from the pages of Toriyama’s magna.\n\nJoe was powerful now, though not of muscle really, though swordplay had been developing his upper body more than he might have thought. Lots of cardio too; you needed that, when marauding hordes of Orcs, Elves, and humans from another world were out to kill you and everyone else on this planet. There were fighters though, some were wielding magic much like their enemy, some had become something like super heroes, and had even taken to wearing costumes like the tales told through comic books that people had once read and watched in the movie theaters. \n\nHe’d almost drifted off to sleep, when the shifting of rubble from what must have been seventy or eighty feet down the hall had sent adrenaline surging through him, instantly rousing him into wakefulness and with a heightened sense of alertness. Uhl’Threka’s band had finally found him. I would have liked to meet them tomorrow morning, but it seems like they can’t wait for their death any longer. \n\nReaching down to the leylines of magic that had crisscrossed the Earth, Joe had drawn upon it until power surged through him. The only way he could think to describe it was a system more akin to the stories of Naruto. Chakra and chakra gates must have been a real thing, as the magic within him seemed to have manifested in this way. His legs and arms were stronger, and he’d been practicing martial arts, as best he could—he could throw punches and kicks far faster and more powerfully than should have been possible. It was a clumsy system, or style he supposed he should say, developed only through books pilfered from now defunct or destroyed libraries. Masking his power would have been useless, Uhl’Threka was one of the more powerful Warlocks in Oregon; he’d be able to detect the life force of one of the myriad number of rats scuttling through the building, so of course he’d be able to sense even a disguised power such as Joe might be able to make himself appear to be. \n\n“You’ll come out now, Takada-san, so we can have a chat, yes?”\n\n“Actually General Threka, I was going to ask you if you’d care to step outside?”\n\nJoe didn’t let the Warlock make the mock choice though, as he flashed through a tear in the wall of his makeshift room of the week, and out into the night. Though he could see quite well in the dark, a few fires raged in buildings around him, casting a feint red and yellow glow, as well as a nearly full moon casting its own light. So there’d been plenty of illumination to see Uhl’Threka and his minions, as they came outside moments later. Two towering Kordens, the Orc-like creatures that were the true muscle of the invaders armies, stood near to eight feet tall, wicked curved swords in hand as something like smiles played about their brown, brutish faces resembling pigs more than men. Threka even had some magic underlings as well, as three Luden women trailed behind the Warlock, their thin hands already weaving runes about the lumbering beasts. Uhl’Threka himself was slight in stature, though the Warlocks’ magical might was the intimidating factor about the Luden man in a robe of dark scarlet. Even with runeic might playing about them, Joe was concerned little about the Kordens. A moment later, he let Uhl Threka know why. \n\nJoe pushed himself nearly to the limits of his power, and performed flashing leaps, hopping on the chest of the first Korden in less than a blink of an eye, and slashing through its neck in another two or three milliseconds, the head falling to the ground in what seemed as such a slow speed as to be nearly perceived as not moving at all. Joe’s sword flashed again as he vaulted off the now dead Korden, and plunged his blade deep into the brain of the other, making a few dozen slices through it just to be sure. A bolt of purple energy almost touched Joe as he flashed back to almost exactly where he’d been standing before killing Threka’s bodyguards, but it wasn’t quick enough. What must have been a dozen more magic bolts might have killed Joe, if he’d been as weak as Uhl’Threka must have thought him to be. In a blur of motion, he deflected the magic away as if they were mosquitos of light that might have been trying to feast on his blood, deflected away and sent careening into the night. \n\n“Listen Warlock, you know your lackeys can do nothing to me, and I see that your Korden are just about useless to you now, so let’s make this about you and me already.”\n\nUhl’Threka guffawed loudly at the thought, and Joe let the moment of imagined supremacy be the undoing of the Warlock’s flunkies. He brought a large amount of power into his hands, and threw out green energy beams at Threka’s female mages, felling them in quick, precise strikes. He’d thrown a few more out at Threka himself, in what Joe had hoped would be quick enough, though the Warlock seemed to become as a ghost for a moment, the beams passing harmlessly through him and into the night, destroying parts of a building behind the Luden man with loud crashes of energy meeting stone. The Warlock manifested himself a moment later in the same place with a wicked smile. \n\n“You underestimate my mastery Takada-san, how unfortunate for you. You’ve been quite a bothersome insect, more a wasp than the worm I once thought you to be, to your credit. Wasps can be exterminated almost as easily though, as I’m sure you’re more aware than I, being a true denizen of this world.”\n\n“You know Threka, there are species of insects that can kill a man? Yes, there are ants and wasps, and other insects, that are so poisonous tha,” Joe hoped the talking would be enough of a distraction, as he launched an attack at the Warlock. He’d flashed behind the Luden, only to be knocked aside by a massive flaring of purple-red power. Slamming into a broken down diesel truck, Joe might have slumped to the ground, had the Warlock not materialized in the spot where Joe would have fallen, and clutched at Joe’s throat. \n\n“You’re buzzing and stinging ends here Takada-san. Know that now, even as your life ebbs from you, that I respect you. Until the very end, that’s what the san at the end of your name means in the culture of your homeland, yes…”\n\nA red gloved-hand erupted through Uhl’Threka’s head then, and as Joe hit the ground, panting and gasping for air, he looked up to his savoir, and a smile bloomed across his face. Why hadn’t he reached out to her earlier? \n\n“Well Joe Takada, looks like I’ve forced the argument upon you, haven’t I?”\n\nLinda Johnson, though she referred to herself as Lady Red now, smiled down at him as he still massaged his neck. Joe realized then that she’d been right all along, that there was strength in numbers, that it would take everyone with power to have even a chance of sending the invaders back to wherever they came from. \n\n“Yes, “ his voice still pinched a little from lack of air,” I suppose your right. I suppose it’s time you take me to the Revolt. Let me gather my things, and w-well…thank you; thank you very much.”\n",
"*An excerpt from Stephen Colbert's award winning interview with Sergeant Major Johnathon Stewart- Veteran of the \"Dead Contact War\"*\n\nColbert: Whenever you're ready, please, tell us what it was like for you- an enlisted man- when the war broke out, and when the tide changed.\n\nJohn: Rocks. Everything began, and ended, with rocks.\n\nFirst it was rocks from the sky. In the early days of the invasion the aliens redirected asteroids onto a collision course with Earth. Not big enough to ruin the planet for colonization, but big enough to kill an eighth of our population in the first attack.\n\nNo one is sure who said it first, but soon after we realized who was responsible we started calling them \"Stoners\". You'll never hear that in anything official of course, it was just something we started saying around the FOB- I'm sorry, that's Forward Operations Base to the layman. You can take the soldier out of the suck, but you can't take the acronyms out of the soldier.\n\nAfter the first wave softened us up, they started bringing in fighters. The Skipping Stones, or Skippers, were faster and more maneuverable than anything we had. in days they had shredded anything that wasn't hidden, lucky, or buried underground. And they never stopped dropping rocks on our heads. After the sun got blotted out by the smoke, sometimes the only light you'd see at noon was the glow of cities on fire. Two months in, and we were down to about five billion.\n\nSo there we were. Out gunned, out matched, and morale was in the shitter. I went from a Private First Class to Sergeant in a matter of weeks because so many people above us had already been taken out. Whatever was left of leadership skipped right over the draft and went straight to conscripting anybody with two working legs and at least one arm and an eye. It was looking like the end times, and some of the religious nuts were into it. Wasn't long before you had crazies in the streets saying that we ought to surrender to what was clearly \"God's wrath\". Those guys didn't last long.\n\nAround the middle of the fourth month, the Stoners started deploying ground troops. Big fellas on four legs most of the time, two legs when they wanted to shoot you with those big ass rifles. But they were slow upright, like a bear. Covered in armor. White stuff that made us think that they were color blind, cause they would hide, but stick out like a sore thumb wherever they took cover. It was the only advantage we really had. And they realized about the same time we did that it didn't really matter if we saw them or not.\n\nSmall arms fire had no effect on the stuff. So they abandoned subtlety and would just waddle onto the field and lay us out. We lost another half billion before the \"Sense\" kicked in. And finally, things started to turn.\n\nPeople started to have \"dreams\". They woke up and KNEW where they were massing troops. KNEW where they were storing munitions. And it didn't take much to confirm these dreams, because everyone was starting to have them. And of course we acted on them. \n\nI had my first \"dream\" in August of 2038. About four hundred Stoners were massing in what used to be Spirit Lake, Iowa, USA. I sent it up the chain of command they launched an offensive. We caught'em with the space trousers down. It was a Stoner hospital triage for the few that were injured. And we wasted 'em all. I'd seen about a hundred fire fights and never seen one go down. To watch 'em all die like that... it still makes me wanna cry. It was beautiful, and I got another promotion out of it. And we paid for it dearly.\n\nThe Stoners retaliated with a fury. The asteroids picked up all over the globe. Stoner troops came in at twice the number they needed. Skippers swarmed around like clouds overhead. And in two weeks, the killed two billion of us. We were all ready to give up. Throw it in. Go to whatever god wanted us.\n\nAnd then somebody threw a rock.\n\nPrivate Jordan. Conscripted by the Army while scavenging in what used to be L.A. Skinny little seventeen year old white boy. Skiddish by all accounts. His unit got pinned down on the Northwestern front of Old Canada. Went to fire his first shot of the war, and his rifle jams. Then he realizes that he dropped his sidearm in the crossfire when he ran for cover. He looks up and sees a nine-foot Stoner standing over him, leveling a shot. He panics, grabs a rock, and chucks it as hard as he can right at the things chest plate.\n\nIt should have pinged off and got him killed. Instead it shot out of his hand at what some egghead tells me must have been something close to the speed of light. It punched a hole right through the Stoner and blew apart the roof of the building behind him. BOOM!!! \"Like God was beating on the biggest, deepest drum you ever heard.\" That's what I said when I told the Master Sergeant. \n\nI saw the whole thing. The jam. The Stoner. The rock. And, unfortunately, the shot that Stoner put through John's chest in it's death throws. Poor kid. He had just won us the war, and he never even had a chance to register his first kill. \n\nSo. I looked around. Found a rock about the size of my fist. And the second I picked it up, I knew why John chucked it. It was like I was meeting an old friend. The first weapon. Just an old rock. And I knew that no matter how bad a throw I was, she would hit whatever I was aiming at. So I picked my target. Cocked back my arm, and threw that stone for all I was worth. Suddenly I felt like I wasn't just throwing a rock. I was hurling all my being at them. My love, my hope, and all of my sorrow. **Boom!!!**\n\nSome nine or ten of them died when their comrade took the shot. One second they were there, the next they were all replaced with a glowing crater of slag.\n\nSo I kept grabbing stones and throwing. Soon the rest of the unit was throwing. Quarter of an hour later, and the score was 14 dead on our side, and 90+ on theirs. We were alive. And now we had the the Stone on our side.\n\nOf course it took a while to catch on. No one believed us at first. We tried to show our superiors on controlled ranges, but the rocks just went as far as we could throw and plunked to the ground. Like regular old rocks. It was about intent. Need. It came to us when it was necessary. And even after enough of our superiors had seen it in action, it was hard to convince people to tell their men, \"Hey! Stop shooting and throw rocks at them! Trust me!\"\n\nBut finally they did. With just over a billion people left, and scattered resistance fighting around the globe against an invading force larger than the original population of the planet. And there it was. \n\nWe killed them on the ground, in the air, in the sea. And once we realized that there was no \"maximum effective range\", we shot them right out of local space. \n\nSoon we started putting communication together. Started regrouping and rebuilding. Ten years later and we could finally start to breathe easier. People started having kids and putting together schools. About five years after that, and you could see the sun through the ash clouds. Things were still cold and harsh, but it was over.\n\nI lost a lot of good friends. I lost my whole family, except for my cousin in Nebraska- she still lives with me today, we just... can't handle being separated again. A lot of families are like that still. But we made it through. And it was all because a scared little seventeen year old Private threw a rock.\n\nYeah. It all came down to rocks.",
"When they came the excitement lasted for almost 24 hours. Our first contact with the stars led to speculation of travel their ourselves, and of what wonders these mysterious visitors would bring. They might cure disease, end world hunger, introduce technology to make all of our most far flung fantasies realities. However, the only thing they'd brought for us was death.\n\nThree hours and fifty seven minutes after they arrived they started sending down shuttles. These shuttles didn't go to our political capitals or any scientific or spiritual centers. They didn't even go to our military installations. They went to Tokyo, Delhi, Shanghai, Manila and Mumbai. Their goal was to kill the most human beings in the shortest amount of time. \n\nTwo minutes after they launched, they touched down. As people saw the shuttles incoming they'd begun to gather. They surrounded them and shouted greetings in their native tongues. The shuttle doors began to lower, and before they'd even touched the ground the first barrage of energy blasts had fried dozens of onlookers. \n\nSocial media posts of these attacks crashed all major website servers, but the word was out. World governments leapt to action and fired nuclear missiles at the landing sites and at the ships in orbit around the planet. They never reached their targets. \n\nNevertheless some people remained excited. A cohort of mostly younger men began to speak encouragement, derived from their delusions of grandeur, about how surely they'd find a weakness. A virus, a weapon, an almost magical field emitted that would shut off their technology. In truth, maybe there was something, but the rate of elimination was such that anyone truly, objectively considering the situation knew there was no hope. \n\nMany in the Militaries around the world came to this conclusion. Each of the enemy troops came with a personal shield that normal caliber bullets and normal bombs could seem to penetrate, or at the least, any human weapon that had the capability to do so was destroyed before it had the chance to reach them. They seemed to almost be mocking us in this way. Ground troops were allowed to approach, it made them easier to slaughter. Most planes and missiles were shot down, and convoys carrying anti-tank guns destroyed.\n\nWe couldn't win, but we knew that we had weapons that could hurt them. Sixteen hours after they'd landed in the first cities, they boarded their transports and left. As anticipated they were moving towards a second wave which included New York City. Hours before planes had been launched, many going towards Washington DC as a ploy to convince the aliens that the politicians were mostly concerned about themselves. Aircraft Carriers moved towards the north east, and all military bases in the country began to trickle vehicles and weapons towards New York. Had they been paying attention, they might have noticed, they might have noticed anyway and not truly assessed the threat level. The end result was that when they touched down the United States, and their allies, launched the largest military assault in human history on New York City. Even North Korea fired their full nuclear arsenal in our support. The alien's defensive capabilities were overwhelmed. By the time their ships sliced through the last weapons that posed a threat to them, they'd lost half their force in the area. \n\nThey pulled out, but not out of defeat. Once their troops were destroyed they fired at the city from space. They vaporized the city, and enough layers of sediment that not even the island remained. \n\nThe cost for half of one of more than a dozen attack squads was the capability to mount an effective attack upon the enemy ever again. The effort did have one more important gain for humanity, one that has kept us alive even till today. In the few hours that the enemy was overwhelmed, the Military began dispersing tactical nuclear weapons to the surrounding communities. Only a few hours after New York was destroyed, they touched down in Philadelphia. Twenty minutes later they lost a third of their force that happened to be too close to a nuclear explosion. \n\nThey adjusted. They changed strategy. They wiped out all major military installations and all potential nuclear arsenals over the next few days. They had, had complete surveillance of the planet since they'd arrived and had gone back and figured out which vehicles leaving certain military installations were likely to have had bombs on them, and where they had gone. Anywhere with a small population and no significance in regards to infrastructure they destroyed from space. This had been anticipated, however, and the bombs had been moved several times by several vehicles, often to quite inconspicuous locations. \n\nThey eradicated the populations of Canada and Mexico thinking, correctly, that Americans would protect their own first. Similarly, they destroyed Eastern Europe and Germany. They realized that Pakistan and India had not sent out their bombs, destroyed their facilities, followed by the population. China had so few weapons per population, fewer that were small enough to transport, and fewer still that had been moved without being tracked. They whittled down large population areas they considered to be low risk. \n\nTwo weeks in Africa was gone, Australia and all of the island nations of the Pacific were gone. The only country in the Western Hemisphere with a population was the United States. France, the United Kingdom, and Russia remained in Europe. 1/4 of the population of China was all that remained of Asia. Israel was all that remained of the Middle East. All in all around 750 million people remained. \n\nNo one should have been surprised by the next move, everyone warned everyone else against it, but in some areas there were no alternatives, and humans are creatures of habit. They poisoned all major water supplies. Within a day half the remaining population was lost. At the same time any vehicles on the road were being destroyed from orbit.\n\nHumans spent most time indoors. Small communities centered around clean sources of water were formed. People learned to live off the land, what roots and berries were edible, and how to hunt deer, squirrel and other game. Winter came to the Northern Hemisphere, and tens of millions more died. \n\nA rumor spread, that a functioning military intelligence base was reporting that nearly a hundred more ships had arrived. They were sending down hundreds of transports that must contain hundreds of thousands of aliens a day. They were apparently colonizing. One colony, in a now abandoned but still mostly functional Beijing, erupted in a mushroom cloud about a week after arrival. \n\nThe retaliation was swift, three of the largest remaining population areas left were attacked, and two of them became nuclear wastelands. Then hostile activity stopped. Then the diplomats arrived. The remaining human population would be left alone, they said, if they abandoned the coasts, abandoned all areas heavy in natural resources, all cities, if they moved inland to the country, and if they gave up all electronic devices. Humanity would not come within 50 miles, roughly, of any colony, and if any alien came in contact with a human, the human's life would be forfeit. Many argued. It was clearly a stalling tactic. They might have ground installations that could detect the presence of a nuclear bomb, or they might decide that the remaining land that humans held could be forfeit, vaporized in the name of their own safety. However most agreed to go. The ones that didn't were killed, though two groups managed to get off two more nuclear bombs. \n\nTwo years after the fact those that had left were mostly left alone. The aliens were mostly busy with establishing their colonies, integrating their technology, implementing key economic pillars. They seemed to stay in their cities, though they sometimes visited the same monuments and natural wonders that humans used to appreciate. A few of their leavings made their ways into human hands, mostly trash though. \n\nThe human population continued to decline, partially due to inability to adjust, partially due to the infeasibility of maintaining certain populations with only so many resources, and partially, at least if you believed some, due to sabotage efforts by the enemy. For instance, a water supply may suddenly go bad. Fears of the water going bad became so great that all across the world certain special humans were thought to have a special power, that they were able to bless the water. Many laughed at this practice, acted as thought they took part as a joke, but many took it seriously, almost matter of fact. Soon enough it was common practice to have a priest bless a water supply every morning. Those that laughed, continued to laugh, but, they did not get sick. ",
"I once led men to greatness. Until our race became too powerful, and *they* came to cut us down. We designed weapons and ships, specifically engineered against the invaders, but it wasn't enough. In the end, the surface was ravaged, and only a few thousand survivors, those who had sought shelter underground, remained. For their own sake I have sealed all the paths to the surface, and all the paths between shelters, so that humanity may never again band together or become noticeable enough to provoke another attack. I sincerely hope that they will come to forgive me for this...\n\nIt has been 200 years since the Great War. All the old tunnels are still sealed. Perhaps humanity has become content with their underground lives. Perhaps they have all perished, and I am the only one left, kept alive only through the energy I used to fight with. It does get so lonely on the surface. Perhaps one of the old genetic engineering facilities survived the war. I could use some company...\n\nIt has been 1000 years since the Great War. My creations have been culling any humans they find on the surface, but recently they have been overpowered in combat. One of the humans has even stolen a mech from my men. None of my officers know how a lowly human can pull it off, but I know Spiral Power when I hear about it.\n\nI ought to keep an eye on this \"Kamina\" person.",
"You could feel static in the air. Vibrations rippling the surface of the ground. Like a droplet hitting calm waters.\nHer eyes pregnant with tears; cascading down her dirty face. If you had heard her screaming, you would feel the exact moment your heartbreaking into a thousand pieces.\n\n\nShe croaked out the last of her voice. Sobbing her heart out, she clutches the remnants of her younger sister. Trembling and whispering so low only angels could hear \"Fuck no, Jesus please. Bring her back. Fuck. this isn't fair.\" If given the chance she would have sat there and repeated that last sentence over a lifetime. Over and over again.\nIf only she had been there. She would have found a small momentary haven for her and younger sister.\n\n\nGemma's lifeless eyes that had once danced with a playful light despite The Day of Broken Skies had wreaked havoc on our broken world under a couple of years ago. Had now been snuffed away. Stolen from her.\n\n\nSophia had never felt rage this chaotic before.\nThe sound of her blood coursing through her veins drowned out the distant screams and please for help.\n\n\nNearby a Senty had rounded the corner, the low baritone humming as it's tracks glided over crumbling walls and rusting cars. The dome glistening as it housed this other worldly species. A language unknown warbled excitedly as it spots Sophia.\nSophia couldn't hear the mechanised alien's weapon start to whir. Only when she felt searing hot air whoosh past her arm did the ground around her stop pulsing.\n\n\nSophia's sadness had erupted into a deafening war cry.\nShe abhorred them. Every last one of them. With every last molecule of her body.\n\nShe went to stand up. Instead the ground rushed away from her. She was airborne and as her rage brought her to near madness. What can only be described as the sound of a sonic boom. Darkness.\n\n\nSophia struggles to wake. She feebly pushes herself onto her knees. She knows she needs to run. She looks around to find shelter, only to find 100 metres of scorched earth surrounding her. What was left of the Sentinel, was a puddle of molten alien metal.\n\n\n\"What are you?\" A terrified voice called from somewhere close. Sophia could only muster a whisper \"please help\"\n\n\nDarkness.\n\n\n\nSophia woke to the sound of metal clanging and water rushing. She couldn't see much but a sliver of light. Her migraine made her double over, groaning as she's struggled to make sense of her surroundings.\nThe pitter patter of tiny feet and giggling could be heard running away. \"She's awake\", \"she's weird\", \"she looks like my sister\" \"she's superwoman\" little eyes peered into the safety of Sophia's darkness.\n\n\n\"GET AWAY FROM THERE\" A fierce growl scattered the kids in different directions.\nThe huge metal door creaked open.\n\nA giant with a barrel chest stoops to let himself into the room. Light burns Sophia's eyes as she struggles to keep them open.\n\n\n\"So you're a Surge?\" His growls rumbling as a billow of smoke floods towards Sophia.\n\n\nHey guys,\nThis was my first attempt at a writing prompt or anything really like this. I don't know the etiquette on how long or short they are supposed to be.\nMy grammar sucks, so if you have any tips that would help, it would be appreciated!\nCould you let me know if I did ok?\n\nApologies on mobile.",
"We fought for diplomacy, for cohabitation. They had no intention of hearing our pleas. They had given us a warning: vacate the earth in fourteen days or be eradicated. There were over seven billion people on earth and no space or science organization had the means to transport even a fraction of that number to a different location, let alone the resources that it would take to sustain them. \n\nSo, in the face of their ultimatum, we fought. Independently, as first, one nation at a time, launching waves of attacks at their hubs. The United States, Russia, China, Britain; they all fell short of even damaging their ranks. Eventually, the UN announced a global alliance between every country and sovereign power on earth working together towards one goal: survival. \n\nUnder normal circumstances, finding out that most countries were harboring weapons of mass destruction would have been cause for war in itself. Under these circumstances, leaders bit their tongues, and organized attacks with weapons so devastating pieces of the world were no longer identifiable. The earth beneath them suffered, wilted, and caved, but they did not. Not even nukes, a omnipresent threat to humanity since their invention, could damage them. \n\nIt did not take long for them to realize that we had nothing bigger to throw at them, no other trump cards in our pockets. They began their offensive, and within weeks, over 6,000 years of human civilization was reduced to rubble. Seven billion shrank to seven million, and then seven thousand. \n\nIt was at this point that those of us who remained began noticing the changes. We were more in tune with our surroundings, with nature, with the earth around us. We began leaning closer and closer into the fires that kept us warm, finding that it no longer burned our finger tips. Wind no longer chapped our skin, and blizzards were cool breezes against our faces. We were becoming more than what we thought human was. \n\nThe seven thousand of us that remained were split into three separate groups, in order to prevent ever being taken out in one assault. We were somewhere in Africa, two thousand of us trekking through a desert. We knew that we were exposed, but we hoped that the vastness of the sands would be cover enough to get us closer to Europe, where we were to meet with one of the other groups to stage our last stand. \n\nI never was a lucky man. I never won the big poker hands, found myself in the right place at the right time. I can't recall a time I ever won a scratcher either. The luckiest thing I think to ever happen to me was finding a wife who would put up with me. She was perfect, and I knew when I married her that if she was the only bit of luck I ever had in my life, that it would be more than enough. \n\nShe was killed. Two years ago. Our house collapsed right on top of her when the invasion made it to our city. She didn't have a chance to scream, or feel any pain. She was luckier than I was, and luckier than many of the thousands or millions who suffered slow deaths in the invader's wake. \n\nI could have used a bit of her luck in that desert. We spotted their ship heading toward us in the distance, probably ten minutes before it would make it to our ranks. A few moments later, news that the other two groups had been killed blared through our radios. We looked to each other, no fear left to give, and readied ourselves for the fight. Only some of us were lucky enough to have guns. High caliber rifles in the very back of our group. The rest of us donned spears and swords. We unsheathed them, children grasping their plastic swords to ward off intruders, and raised them in the air and shouted together.\n\nThey flew closer, droves of them jumping down to the sand, standing at least two heads taller than an average human. They were faster than us as well, covering twice the distance in their long strides. We knew this scene of pale beasts hurling themselves toward us was likely our last. Still, we charged, and as instinct took over we all learned that there was nothing more human than our inclination for war. \n\nI lead the charge, raising my rusted longsword in the air, thinking back to all of the high fantasy stories I used to enjoy, knowing that there would be no allied army making a last minute entrance to save us. Whenever I would watch those scenes, goosebumps would flood my skin, and the hair on my neck would stand straight up. I felt the same thing now as I ran toward my death. \n\nIt was euphoric. I thought about the flight or fight response, and how whenever we are put in that situation, our bodies release chemicals that make us less responsive to pain and wondered if this was my body in action. I understood how our ancestors would have fought beasts larger than us. The feeling coursing through my body was like nothing I had ever experienced. As I drew closer to them, the euphoria seemed to concentrate in my hands and feet, and I could begin to feel the earth shake harder and harder beneath me. \n\nWe closed in on one another, and the yells went silent as I jumped higher than I ever thought I could directly into the ranks of the invaders. A primal instinct kicked in, and I dropped my sword halfway through my jump, raising my fist at their leader's head. The moment before it made contact, a bolt of lightning cracked into the creature's flesh and cracked in half before falling to the ground. \n\nAs I stood in confusion, I looked behind to the last of my people. Lighting crackled and fire burst from their palms as they maintained their charge. Their fists landed as true as my own, and one by one, after years of fighting, we were finally able to witness the beauty of our enemy’s death. It was as though earth itself was fighting back. Two thousand humans remained, but we were no longer the humans we once knew. We were what humans had been millennia ago, what legend and folklore was based on. \n\nWe were the people of earth, and as we would come to find out, had a deeper connection to this planet than any of us could have guessed, let alone any foreign invaders. We had grown with this planet, and long ago, learned to harness its raw power. But power is finite, and when so many of us shared the planet, that power began to grow thinner as we prospered. \n\nBringing us down to our last stand, dwindling our numbers to so few, triggered the final fail safe that humanity had repressed for so long. We beat them for the first time that day, in a scorching desert that our ancestors avoided. They felt the sting of defeat for the first time, and retaliated with their full force. They had the numbers, but we had the power, and it was time for us to take our planet back.\n",
"Bruce stood against the wall, his whole body shaking with fear. Glaring at the creatures with hate filled eyes, he knew his end was near. The Wub had lined up 10 people along a wall execution style, ready to slauter and rid the earth of the human pest. Bruce had a welling feeling in his gut, could this be the powers the people were talking about? The Wub troopers aimed there weapons for the final part of the execution. Bruce couldn't hold it any longer, it was happening and he knew it. Gas filled the street with a toxic purple and yellow haze. The prisoners survived and had only one side effect, the putred smell of sulfer. Bruce looked at the back of his jeans. A giant hole on his butt. \" Dear God I'm going to die from that smell, I'm scared for life now\" spoke the young girl next to Bruce. His power was growing stronger again, or was it all those chalupas he ate yesterday night? Either way it was time to move. Bruce ran down the street, his pants flayling behind him in the wind.",
"Waking up it felt as if i was on fire, like electricity was burning my soul away. Piece by piece it was being ripped away in time with the rhythm of my heart. As soon as i felt that i could not go on something resonated with my mind. All of a sudden that burning was replaced with a tempered heat as if my soul itself was being reborn within those fires. \n \n-------------------------------------------------------------------------------- \n\nAs i laid there for the next couple minutes it felt as my body was rebooting itself, my senses slowly turning back on. The first thing i noticed was the smell of smoke all around me. Struggling at first, i pushed myself off the ground to try to find the source of the smell. Walking closer to my front door the smell increased in intensity as i neared. As I opened the door i felt a rush of hot air to meet me. Outside the embers of the world that i once knew danced upon the wind like the stars in the skies. The city i had grown up in was on fire, blazing like the gods themselves dropped hell fire upon the world. Suddenly there was a massive explosion and i felt a new way of heat as i was forced to close my eyes against the light. As i the light subsided i traced the sound to the rend that part of the city once occupied. \n \n \n\nLooking up from the destruction my heart stop, on the horizon a colossus of a ship had teardrops falling on to the ground that the city once laid. Ice filled within my gut as i gazed upon the damage that the ship had brought. Dread gripping my heart i could only think of one thing, escape.\n \n------------------------------\nAfter that night i began to question myself, what right do i have to live with all those that surely were lost within the eradication of the city. Why was i still alive while all those people were dead. After a few more days i began to hears whispers as the tempered heat came back to me filling me with someone. I did not know what was happening but those whispers started to cooing me into comfort. They whispered that what happened to those in the city was not my fault and that nothing i could've done could've changed what took place there. This soothed my worries some but i kept feeling i there was something that i had to do.\n \n---------------------------------------\nA week later i was stopping at a river to drink, i do not know which one anymore as i had lost all form of direction due to my hunger which was a constant pain for me. After finishing i sat on the river bank staring into the water. This was becoming increasing common lately. I do not know if it was the lack of food or the shock of destructed all those days ago but as i stared into those waters the whispers that had been my constant companion began to grow louder and louder. With there musings i began to lose myself in their words, drifting in and out of myself. As i regained myself i felt a cool blanket wrapped around myself. As if nature itself embraced me the sight around me breathtaking. Lilies sprouted around a red maple tree that wrapped around me as if to comfort me. The whispers did not silence as they once did before. Now they murmur in a chorus that clearly rang through me. The warmth that always felt now began to bubble as they spoke. \"Through our sacrifice you preserve us.\" With that the heat within me began to rapidly cool within me, hardening into steel. I knew what i must do in that moment. Without though i heard the words \"Retentat ligni vitae, e pluribus unum\" come to my mouth. With that i took off, back to the ruined city.",
"We didn't acknowledge there was anything strange going on - that was, until the second-gen power armor started being able to curve bullets during testing. Right after the Alpha Event in Eurasia that wiped out almost 70% of our population.\n\nThe strange thing was, neither the smartrifles mounted on the armor nor the munitions they chambered had any sort of guidance technology. It was almost as if the soldiers had simply willed the guns to hit their targets, even with the silhouette boards 10 feet under a window. Not long after the second generation were deployed, the remaining 2.4 billion members of humanity were treated to some very uplifting news on their vidcasts. \n\nThe Enemy's soldiers had not been able to hit their mark. Footage showed human soldiers, in their black, skeletal armor, advancing fearlessly towards their lines, pulse rifle rounds and shrapnel arcing out of the way at the last second to avoid collision with Earth's chosen. It would only be another several months before they were pushed back to a tiny hold in what was formerly Mongolia. But by then, we understood. We had realized our awakening had occurred, and as we always do, we weaponized it. We razed their last bastion here, and we chased them to the ends of the stars, burning their worlds as we came across them. Yes, there are few of us. But our wrath is terrible.",
"Kevin listened to the Oracle while sitting on the cloth that covered the pile of rubble beneath it. He's heard the tale more times than he can count: on that fateful day, 25th December of the year 2017, fleets of starships darkened the sky, and leveled the human civilization. \n\nThe oracle spoke of times when humans were plenty, the time when people would gather in the weekends for drinks, the time when people fought amongst themselves over petty differences… They're all gone now. The aliens wiped them all out. All those years of hard work, all the things they have learned over time, the monuments they managed to build were all erased when the fleet arrived, and, according to the Oracle, “glassed the planet”. The oracle never spoke about how many were killed, perhaps even he doesn't know. He did however, spoke in detail as to the destruction of civilizations: How the tallest buildings erupted in flames, how the people simply turned to ash without even burning, how none managed to find out a way to deal with the aliens despite many of them spending thousands of hours practicing how to fight them… \n\nThe next part always dreads Kevin. The oracle would move close to him, ignite the candles in the hut with a motion of his hand, and tell Kevin it is his destiny to overthrow the aliens, before telling him to put out the candles without leaving his seat. \n\nKevin sat as still as he can. This is going to be another failure, another time he would disappoint the Oracle and his people… It's not like he doesn't have any idea on what the oracle wants him to do. Kevin knew the oracle meant for him to create a gust of wind with his mind, similar to how the Oracle lit the candles with his mind. \n\n“Oracle…” Kevin said while lowering his head in shame, “you know I can't do it, I've been trying since the first time I was here. There's just nothing I can do...” \n\nKevin remained in his seat, concentrating on creating a wind to put out all the candles. He had been doing this dance every week since he was ten. And now, five years later, he still hasn't been able to accomplish this simple feat. \n\nKevin continued to think of the wind, a strong breeze came through the door, blowing out all the candles. Just as Kevin was wondering whether this meant success for him, the Oracle signaled him to hide under the rug he was sitting on, before doing so himself. Kevin knew the alien patrols are nearby. Unlike putting out the candles, hiding from aliens is never something he had trouble with. Although he is having a tingly feeling, something is not right. \n\nAnd then he realized, none of them packed the candles. He pondered what he should do, as he heard the footsteps of three aliens jumping onto the ground. Each step they take, their greaves make a sound that warns everyone nearby of their presence. The message is clear -- be out of their sight, or be killed. \n\nThe footsteps growing ever closer. The aliens will search the area when they see the candles. Kevin thought of his next step. There are none. Had he been able to put out the candles earlier… \n\nThe scream of the Oracle pulled Kevin back to reality. As he peeked from a hole in his cover, he saw one of the aliens, in his shiny silver armor, holding the Oracle in the air. The other two were stand next to him, crossing their arms, probably enjoying the sight of their comrade killing an old man. \n\nKevin thought of what he should do: continue to hide, and let the aliens take his mentor? Or would he try to fight them, and die. The Oracle would never wanted him to throw his life away for anyone, that he knows. He is important to overthrowing the aliens. But what good would he be if he didn't save the man that taught him everything. What good would he be if he died here...\n\nAnother scream. Kevin two pieces of debris, got out of his cover, and hurled them at the aliens. The aliens stood steadfast, letting their armor deflect the rocks. Kevin picked up another one, threw it at them again, nothing. Another one, and another… \n\nUntil his arms grew tired and his couldn't pick up anymore rocks. The aliens looked at one another, as one of them produced a pistols from his holster, and began taking aim at Kevin… \n\n*Why am I so useless* \n\nKevin thought to himself as he stared the alien in the eyes, prepared to die, he is useless anyway. \n\nThe alien squeezed the trigger, a blue bolt of energy launched at Kevin. He instinctively raised his hand at the bolt. Just as the bolt was about to hit him, he felt a warm wave of energy concentrate on his hand, flowing to his palm, and outward to the incoming projectile. \n\nThe bolt hit his hand, but it didn't hurt. And the feeling of warmth continued flowing through Kevin. \n\nKevin concentrated, looking at the aliens who are going to kill his friend. He let the energy wave concentrate on his hand again. Except this time the feeling is much more intense. He looked at the aliens one more time, and unleashed the wave of energy at them. He watched as his assailants come into contact with the wave of blue energy, and burned to ash in mere seconds. \n\nKevin rushes towards the Oracle and helped him get up. Together, they packed up their camp and headed home. ",
"I don't know how to start here. None of this makes any sense.\n\nI grew up watching the old Superman movies on tape. I grew up wanting to be like the man himself; I always thought I'd do what he did if I ended up with his powers. I remember fantasizing about it maybe a week before first contact; it was a thought I had often. \n\nI told myself I'd skip the subtext and buy an actual Superman costume online before I went flying around the world chucking nukes into deep space and putting out forest fires. So that when people saw me coming, they'd know I was coming to help. \n\nThere are a few problems with that now. The first one that comes to mind is, there's no one left to impress like that. The other six survivors don't need or want Superman right now, besides, you guys are all as invincible as I am.\n\nSecond, I'm not as good a guy as Clark Kent ever was. I see that now; let me explain. There are seven human beings still alive on Earth; the rest of us were wiped out by aliens. They brought colony ships the size of the Moon, dozens of them; you can see the whole fleet at night. I can't imagine how many of them there are. Hundreds of billions? Trillions? \n\nTrillions of them against seven of us, and we're winning. One of us brought down a colony ship yesterday. Again, this thing was moon-sized and filled with billions of aliens. She took a running start and jumped from the Earth's surface hard enough to punch a hole out the back of the ship. The whole thing just shattered into scrap metal.\n\nI think we should surrender. I haven't said so out loud, not to any of you, but I still think it. Seven of us against trillions of them, and why are we fighting? I don't think it's for revenge, but it's something close. It isn't to save the world; we got these powers too late for that. Therein lies the problem. Nothing we do to these invaders will bring back the people they killled. Our actions from now on can only decide what happens to us and the aliens. I think a trillion lives are worth more than seven, no matter how we ended up in this situation. No matter who those lives are, human or otherwise. \n\nI dunno if you agree with that or not. I dunno which choice Superman would make. I can't even picture him thinking of a moral dilemma like this. To Superman, the right thing to do is instantly obvious. Me though; I have to think on it.\n\nSo I thought on it, and I realized something. Whatever the source of our powers is, whether you call it magic or mana or Light or a million other things; there is a source. It's something only humans can use. And we can be reasonably sure evolution just doesn't do this.\n\nI think there's a God. I never believed in Him before first contact, and for a while afterward I kinda figured the existence of aliens confirmed it. I read a book once that had this line about evolution. *There were only two known causes of purposeful complexity. Natural selection, which produced things like butterflies. And intelligent engineering, which produced things like cars.*\n\nThis magic, whatever it really is, it didn't evolve. It was created, and whatever entity has the resources to create a source of magic must, by definition, be a god. One that specifically took interest in humans for a number of possible reasons, including ones suggested by a few of our religions. And those religions usually also claim that God has *been* here, to Earth, and spoke in person with His creations. Wherever He is now, he hasn't been paying attention. \n\nOne inference leads to another. If magic, then God. If God, then Heaven. If Heaven, then afterlife and souls and *one possible chance* to undo the extinction of the human race and end the conflict with these aliens without murdering them all. God isn't paying attention though, so someone has to go find Him and tell Him to look this way.\n\nI'm leaving. I don't know what will happen to me if I fly too far from Earth or the Sun; maybe the magic will cut off and I'll need air again and I'll die out there in space. I don't even know where I'm going; which way God went; so I'm relying on faith and that sounds like a shitty plan, but I have to do it.\n\nI leave this note to you, the six of you, and I hope you forgive me. I hope you do what you can to spare the enemy's life, and I hope I come back one day to fix this. If not, this is my suicide note. There are worse ways to die. \n\nI have to do this. The chance to save seven billion lives, however slim, is worth the risk to my one life, however great. Now that I think about it, that does sound almost like what Superman might say.\n\nGoodbye.",
"There is a crucial aspect to conflict one must remember above all else; when victory is the desired outcome, all costs must be put on the line. If you truly seek your goal, you must be willing to sacrifice everything. Because if it comes down to it, that moment when you must choose between victory and survival… the choice must be obvious.\n\n---\n\nI wouldn’t have been able to do it without him. Not that the task was impossible with only one person, but the sheer magnitude of the decision, the guilt of suffering the consequences – it was too much for my morality to endure. I still harbor some resentment, and I wish there was another way. But I have no regrets. If it was necessary, I’d do it all again. The gnawing at the back of my head, telling me I was selfish and incompetent, never stopped. I accept it as punishment for my sin. No amount of atonement could justify the deaths of so many.\n\nI find it hard to believe, myself. The display had counted 7.9 billion – the outcome was so harsh that it was easier to count the survivors than try to comprehend the casualties.\n\nI suppose I must start at the beginning.\n\n---\n\nMy name is Daijiro Kojima. I grew up in Moni, a country town at the foot of a mountain. Our people disliked the modern world, and chose to abstain from the technologies of the so-called Western Man. My brother Kentaro disproved of this very much. He scolded our chief often for being “ancient” and “dictatorial.” I couldn’t disagree with his accusations, as they were, to an extent, true. We held to old customs, and we clung to the advice and teachings of our chief. It was unsafe to wander outside the fence, thanks to the wolves roaming the forest, so we were largely restricted to wandering the farms and the streets. It was a peaceful life, though, and we ate well in the company of our families.\n\nEvery week we gathered to pay tribute to the Effigy of the Mount, feeding it the fruits of our farms and cattle so it could sustain us with bountiful harvests. I didn’t know how, but the soil here was… different. To this day I was unsure of it, perhaps being a trick of the light or just my imagination, but the ground seemed to give off an ever so faint glow under the moon, just barely noticeable. I attributed the glow to be the spirit of the mount moving in the ground. Every year we reaped rewards that far exceeded the effort we put in.\n\nWe thanked the chief for his leadership, and we thanked the mount for its generosity. We were merry and happy.\n\n---\n\nKentaro and I always trained with the village guardsmen, learning how to use the sword and be fleet of foot. The latter skills were always emphasized, as the chief said that our swordsmanship would be no match for the weapons of the outside world. The elders, those who travelled across the land and meditated in the fields, told us stories of the Western Man – I always wondered about the term, as they were apparently to the East and North too, even the South where the ocean is. Why call them Western if they are everywhere? But, I digress. The elders told us of the extensive range of their armaments, and the frightening speed of their attacks. It was something out of a magic story, I was sure. Kentaro told me he would protect me if the Western Man came to our village, but I always shrugged him off. We were both past childhood anyway. I was more than capable of protecting myself.\n\nBut I never expected us to be the ones killing them.\n\n---\n\nIt happened while I was picking a primrose for mother. I’d been growing one behind one of the storehouses, so it would be kept a surprise. She loved flowers, especially pink ones. It would make the perfect birthday present. It became dark so suddenly that I thought a vine had torn off the storehouse and fallen over me, but I looked up to see the clouds break apart and disappear, absorbed into a blackened sky. It was dark as night, and I stumbled through the leaves towards light. After feeling along the sides of building walls along the street for a while, amidst panicking women and screaming children, I found myself in the village square. Guards ran to and for with torches, yelling to each other and ushering civilians to safety. I saw my father carrying boxes with some other men. I was confused – why was the sky black? Had the sun run away before the moon was ready to wake? Was the Mount angry at us?\n\nAnd then Kentaro was by my side.\n\n“Hey, Dai… everything’s going to be okay, hear me? We’ll figure this out.”\n\nI nodded. The chief stumbled past with a heavy box, but my brother caught him by the shoulder.\n\n“Hey, old man, what’s going on? Where’s the light gone?”\n\nEyes wide, the chief turned to us. “Get everyone you can find and gather them at the effigy. I had no idea they would return, not at a time like this.”\n\n“What are you talking about? Are we under attack?”\n\n“I’ll explain everything later. The most important thing now is to get everyone to safety. Here,” he fumbled in his pocked for a second and retrieved a small object, shoving it into Kentaro’s hand. “Take this. Offer it to the effigy as you would a tribute. We need to protect everyone we can.”\n\n“You got it, old man. Come on, Dai.”\n\nSo we took a torch and scampered about, sending everyone we could at the effigy. Mother showed up too, and I suddenly remembered the primrose I’d left behind the storehouse. She asked about our father, and we didn’t see him there. More of the guardsmen were arriving, and he wasn’t among them. Kentaro and I left to look for him, starting first at the barracks then progressing through the streets. We figured he’d gone to the effigy while we were searching, so we started heading back. However, as we passed a farm we saw a dozen or so men staring at the sky. We followed their gaze and there, in the air above us, we saw the blackness move. It seemed to bend and shift, as if it was a giant piece of cartilage. Parts of it seemed to brighten slightly, and I saw a multitude of small specks appearing from the lighter parts. I watched as the specks grew larger, then realized they were distant objects heading towards us. Kentaro put his hand on my shoulder.\n\n“Dai… we should go.”\n\n“But… what are those? Birds?”\n\n“Whatever they are, it can’t be good.”\n\nFor a second there was a bright flash amidst the objects, and a split second later the farmers screamed. The dirt around them erupted, spewing mounds of soil into the air. They scrambled back, running for the effigy. Kentaro and I didn’t hesitate any longer. When we returned, the chief was waiting for us, more stressed than I’d ever seen him.\n\n“You left and took the key with you?! Do you have any idea of the risk you just put us in?!” His loud voice drew several eyes from those around us.\n\n“Oh, sorry… this thing, right?” Kentaro drew out the object he’d been given before. It was about half the size of his palm, colored black and shaped like a disc, engraved with the face of a cat, just like the one on the effigy. They say that black cats are a sign of good fortune. And by the looks of things, we’re going to need all the fortune we can get.\n\n“Yes yes yes – give it here!” The chief snatched the disc from Kentaro’s hand and hurried over to the effigy, dropping it in the tribute slot. The disc would travel down a pipe and end up… somewhere. I was unsure of where the tributes ended up but I was certain it wasn’t underneath the chief’s house like some kids had joked.\n\n“What now, old man?” Kentaro asked, arms on his hips.\n\n“Ken, show some respect.” Father said, appearing from the group to slap Kentaro across the back.\n\n“S-sorry, chief.”\n\nThe chief was silent, instead speaking with a sly grin. The earth shook, forcing me to steady myself on Kentaro’s arm. The effigy broke open, splitting the cat’s face in two. There were several loud gasps and outcries from those gathered, but the chief urged them to calm down. The cracked effigy left a big hole in the ground, laden with steps that seemed to descend to the center of the earth.\n\n“Everyone, follow me! Carry everything you can!” The chief yelled, rushing down the hole and disappearing into the darkness, followed by the residents from the village. I looked back to the objects in the sky, which were approaching all the while. They must’ve been a hundred miles when we first saw them, but I was sure they were a mere couple miles away now.\n\nI felt a pair of hands gripping my shoulders, moving me forward. “Come on, Dai, let’s go!” Kentaro had a huge smile on his face, eyes wide.\n\n“Brother..?”\n\n“This is exciting, right? Something different is happening!” Did he fail to notice the power of those things? Exploding the ground from so far away in an instant? He always was a strange one, I suppose. \n\nSo we descended the steps, each of us carrying a box of supplies. Food, I think. We travelled for maybe 10 minutes, and I felt the temperature slowly dropping. I looked up and could no longer see the entrance nor feel the rumbling from the explosions. Eventually we reached a flat area of dirt, about the size of a house interior. The whole village crowded there, staring at the large wall opposite the end of the steps. It was made of metal, and shined so clearly that in the light of the torches, we could see our reflections. The wall was adorned with strange markings and indentations. The chief walked up to it, putting a hand against it. He sighed, as if in disappointment. I saw his lips move, but he made no sound.\n\n**PART TWO IN CHILD COMMENT**",
"Turns out the universe isn't cold and uncaring. Turns out the universe actually wants to give us what we want. Turns out 8 billion people all projecting their wishes out into the fuzzy warm-hearted void of existence confuses the heck out of the old machinery. What I mean to say is of the bunch of us humans shouting at mama universe, those who got what they were wishing for were few and far between; the odd miracle here and there, a “lucky toss” once in awhile. You get it.\n\n\nIt's different now. When the culling began, I...no, let me skip this part. Slowly, during the months after the event, people thought they were going crazy. Some of the surviving doctors called it PTSD or something. The more susceptible started hearing this background chatter emerge from the white noise narrated stream of consciousness. Took us another 4 billion lost for the first to get it. They were hearing the fearful calls of their brethrens’ minds. Some of the resistance’ stands got 'lucky’. Nothing sustainable, remotely helpful in the big picture; not that any even put it even together until way later anyways.\n\n\nOn the way down to the last wretched few all of this got stronger, more noticeable until even most doubting could no longer deny having joined their fellow men (as few of us as remained) in a shared mind. Some called it God, some Gaia, some just called it magic. It really don’t matter. Once you figure out that you dreamed up this world together, it's not a huge stretch of imagination to imagine the intruders gone. Wasn't even a fight anymore.\n\n\nBillions lost, just a few ragged men and women with the power to raise cities from the oceans. We prospered fast, as they say we did before. But we also grew fast. Now, only very few can still hear the voices of mind and even fewer can get their small wishes heard by the void.\n\n\n****\n\n\nThe old man harrumphed, happy with his audience's captivated gazes. He sharpened his mind’s words into a needle tip of will and let it fly, making the fire in the cave in their midst flare, just for a second. His tribe exclaimed with exaltation at the power their shaman wielded.",
"There were some that called it a sign from God, another purging of humanity like the great flood. I never cared, all that I needed to know was that they were smart, and didn't like to go underground, best place for safe houses in my opinion. I was in one of these so called safe houses, if a sewer tunnel filled with lamps and sleeping bags counts as a house, that I first heard these claims.\n\nLeft that particular house after that conversation, it wasn't safe. The bastards killed everyone there, by the time I returned the tunnel had collapsed. No signs of life anywhere.\n\n4 weeks ago humanity was attacked by a race of unknown origin. Humanity fought back but it was useless. These things, or \"clickers\" as the survivor colonies refer to them due to their habit of releasing a strange clicking sound, ever seen that movie Predator? Like the predator clicks. Anyway these clickers were ruthless and brutally efficient. Russia was the first major nation to go down, falling in only 7 hours, soon all of Asia was conquered. Fast forwards 4 weeks and humans have become rats, running through tunnels, breaching the surface only for food or water. \n\nUnder earth is safer than above it. I don't know why but they hate it underground, they won't search through tunnels too often. But if they know someone's there they will come.\n\nOn this particular day I was sleeping in an above ground safe house. More accurately in one of the cars of an abandoned military train. The thing was perfect, armored, still functioning partway so it was warm and could lock up very tightly. I was bundled in my sleeping bag in a car that had the doors sealed tight. I had awoken from a sound I had heard outside. Namely the gunshots.\n\nThat was about 30 minutes ago. But 2 minutes previously I thought I had heard a familiar clicking. I inhaled and sure enough the stench of motor oil and salt water hit my nostrils, an odd odor that clickers emitted. \n\nSuddenly the side of the car rattled as someone, or something, tried to open the door. It rattled a few more times before there was a bang that blasted the door into pieces. \n\nThe clicker regarded me, I don't actually know what the things look like, they're always wearing the same armor, rectangular slabs of metal. It raised a serrated blade and charged. \n\nI stumbled backwards and my left hand fell into an open control panel full of wires I had to cut to disable the alarm systems on the cars. There was still electricity in those cables. I was expecting a massive pain, I'd maybe to blackout. What I wasn't expecting was for the energy to travel down my arm and then blast from my other hand straight into the clicker. Whatever metal that armor was apparently conducted electricity as the clicker shrieked, then collapsed into the ground, smoke pouring from in between the plates. \n\nI looked at my hand, blue energy danced from my fingers, suddenly a loud howl broke the eerie silence, a howl that meant a clicker had heart the blast. The things were slow, I likely had 5 minutes. I had packed my bag and was about to go when I glanced at the dead clicker. Curiosity struck but I still needed to get away.\n\nDo I: Run or Investigate the Body\nEdit: continuing story. \n\nI ran over to the thing, maybe finally a chance to see what they looked like, that metal was probably valuable as well. I looked all over the armor and finally found a small blue pad on the neck, I pressed it and with hissing steam the plates folded away revealing the front of the thing.\n\nI understood now why they covered their faces. The skin was like tanned cow hide, it was covered in what looks like blisters. The eyes were dark and hollow. The worst part was the mandible jaw. Strangely if the mandible jaw was closed the creature might look human. \n\nThe howling got louder. I remembered I was on a schedule, I grabbed anything that looked useful. An odd device that looked like a flashlight with a grip and trigger, a few plates of armor, and the blade it had held. A blade that resembled a knife sized serrated Khopesh. \n\nNow I had picked up a few tricks since this whole thing went down, one of which was that most clickers with the exception of a few that has been wearing red plates instead of black, seemed to be blind. A scientist I had met in the first week said the clicking was echolactation, wait that wasn't it... Oh who cares. \n\nThey relied on smell to distinguish each other and that armor still had the salty oil smell. I put the plates back into place, with a groan hoisted the dead clicker out, lay down in the armor and pressed the blue button.\n\nThe layers closed down and everything was dark, of course if these things things were blind a visor wasn't needed. The second thing I noticed was that there was still a LOT of electricity surging through the armor.\n\nNow I'm no scientist but I'm fairly certain I should have been cooked alive. No time for that now. I tried to tear the helmet off and somehow succeeded. I sprinted out of there, the armor surprisingly light, snagging my pack under my arm as I ran. \n\n7 years, and many incinerations, electrocutions, crushings, and drownings later the clickers finally retreated. Leaving behind only a strange gold box, oddly resembling an Egyptian coffin. Nobody could open it. I walked up to it and slid the blade I'd carried for seven years into a small slot in the box. It clicked and opened and I was staring at my own dead body...\n\nRoger woke with a start. \"Okay that's it, no more pizza before sleep.\"",
"\"Hang on, so there's some fixed amount of power and it's divided equally among all humans?\"\n\n\"Yep.\"\n\n\"And you, a strange alien creature, have culled the human population in order to increase the power granted to any one individual?\"\n\n\"Exactly. Do you want to try out your new powers?\"\n\n\"I've a few questions first actually -- as a more advanced intelligence you're certainly aware of evolution, of the fact that all life forms here on earth share a common ancestor, of the fact that distinct species arise by a process of natural selection, where only those which adapt best to their environment survive?\"\n\n\"Go on...\"\n\n\"And you're telling me that the human species possess some special access to magical powers, with the magnitude of each individual's access _depending explicitly on the number of other alive humans_?\n\n\"Yeah. Is there a problem?\"\n\n\"You bet there's a problem. What we call human life is unavoidably arbitrary. If we draw up the family tree showing the ancestry of all humans, at some point we make it back to some gross slime that definitely isn't human, and so at some point between today and whenever the slime was around we need to choose some generation and say 'Ok, after this we're human'. Maybe before we were neanderthal, or what have you, but neanderthal is just a label we made up too, every species is. You're telling me that whether or not an organism is labeled human actually has (1) some effect on the organism, and, worse, (2) some effect on every other organism we call human. But as I've argued, these labels are completely arbitrary.\"\n\n\"You know you can fly now? Don't you want to try that out?\"\n\n\"We even have a maximally human organism, against which all other organisms are compared to test their human-ness? It's Carl Linnaeus -- in honour of all the work he did on species [we locked his skeleton up somewhere](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Type_(biology)#Lectotype) and granted him the title of Ur-human. Which means that everyone alive today is slightly less human than some family of Swedish nerds in the 1700s. And if we'd happened to have chosen someone else, we'd have a different ordering of humanity in terms of human-ness.\"\n\n\"You can teleport! You could go somewhere else, somewhere far far away, _right now_. Wouldn't that be fun?\"\n\n\"Worse, we haven't stopped evolving. At some point in the future we'll be so far from Carl Linnaeus that we'll need a new label to describe us. Do those powers disappear then? Once we arbitrarily decide to call ourselves something else? Seems hard to believe really.\"\n\n\"Oh My God do you know this is why no one has bothered to contact you people all this time? I'm leaving. Do us all a favour and don't go developing any sort of space exploration program. If I see a human come anywhere near our star system I will see to their Zapping myself.\"\n\n\"How will you decide whether the organism is human or not?\"\n\n[See also](http://slatestarcodex.com/2014/11/21/the-categories-were-made-for-man-not-man-for-the-categories/)",
"First contact was made almost ten years ago. They seemed well versed in warfare, in less than a day there wasn't a satellite left in the sky or a cable under the sea. Communication between nations fell to old ground bounce long range radios pulled out of mothballs. Conventional weapons proved to be ineffective and the nuclear option didn't fare much better. Eventually even the old analog radios where jammed. Steadily they started to wipe us out. Great mechanized beasts roamed the land, directed energy weapons reduced any caught in there sight to ash. \n\nSlowly word began to spread of old legends come to light. Wizards, witches even warlocks making pacts with demons to gain power. Men and women alike where seen calling fourth searing bolts of lighting from the sky. Ripping the ground open to devour and crush any of the aliens creations that wandered to close to the last bastions of humanity. Liquefying the great metal monsters with conjured fire. Even death was no relief to our fallen comrades as the necromancers raised forth gargantuan armies of the dead. Crushing the invaders with the sheer mass of rotting meat and gleaming bone. As our species continued to fight for our existence more of the things that go bump in the night started coming to light.\n\nAt first they appeared to be fellow humans but it soon became clear that was not the case. The first were the Werewolves, nigh unkillable but by blessed silver. Transforming into great beasts they used claws and teeth to rend through armor only magic could penetrate. These furry juggernauts relied on humans not for food as in the old tales but as breeding stock. As we continued to dwindle in number they could no longer stalk the shadows. Though small in numbers they made up for it in shear brutality. Soon all of the others concealed in the shadows made themselves known. The vampires where less well received than the wolves but in the end they needed us. Becoming a donor for one elevated ones physically abilities for a time. Though to somes disappointment, crosses, sunlight and garlic did not faze them.\n\nThe Fae became another ally though much less trustful, one had to be cautious when speaking with them. Never make an open ended bargain with one, it never ends in your favor. Whatever the invaders mechanized army consisted of it was not iron and they seemed to take much glee in the wanton destruction they could wield. Many hopped the elves and dwarves of some fairy tales would come to be but to this day none have materialized. Though the dragons made there presence known they more are focused on what little territory they still held and if you happen to occupy it you have one hell of a home security system. Rumblings of the old gods walking among man once more have been heard but not verified. \n\nAs of now hope has yet to completely die for humanity and its newly rediscovered allies. While the dragons and invaders still rule the skies we have done much to retake the land. The current status of humanity as a whole is still not truly known, while magic is useful as a weapons it does not give it self over willingly to be used to pass missives. Communication over the oceans and across continents is still a slow process and we are just starting to retake the seas. \n\n-Field Commander, 3rd Magus Division, Capt Jasper D. Wulf",
"I awoke in the night, the distant sounds of screams altogether too familiar. It didn't sound isolated - they must have found a safe-haven. Hundreds would be massacred. It was just like I said; don't bunch together. Don't rely on each other for support. Survival is all about laying low, keeping quiet and hoping that luck was on your side. \n\nI'd been having a strange dream. It wasn't a nightmare, which was rare already; it was more of a premonition. I'd felt a burning sensation in my hand, as if there were energy coursing through it. The feeling still stuck with me, and I focused on it to try drown out the screams.\n\n********\n\nThere were more of them now; towering beasts, eldritch monstrosities. We'd imagined aliens as these advanced beings, visiting us with technology that we could not even comprehend, bestowing knowledge and gifts. But no.\n\nThey were unimaginable nightmares, drifting in through space, landing on our forsaken planet and hunting us mercilessly. Our combined efforts only took down a few, and the ensuing nuclear winter only made things worse. And now they hunt us down without rest. It doesn't seem to be for sustenance - they ignore other animals, though they will harm them if it is in their way. No; it feels like eradication. And more come every day. \n\nBut the the dreams won't go away. What little sleep I have is filled with feelings of flame and fury; of ominous premonition, of terrifying power. I feel that energy more and more. I suspect that I am going mad, but I'd rather be mad than dead. And judging by my travels, it seems that I am one of the few left with the privilege of choice. \n\nSleep comes to me eventually, the incessant chittering of the aliens filtering through my dreams of intrigue, of primal power.\n\n*****\n\nI awoke to a sound of crashing, of beastly lumbering. \n\n*I've been found.*\n\nI sprinted from my lair, a crumbling ruin, just as a jagged tentacle pierced through the foundations. Rubble collapsed around me as I leapt through a window, landing on the floor below in a clumsy roll. There was no time to think about the pain - only escape. \n\nI ran as fast as I could, praying that it was only one, praying that it could not keep up. There were many different forms of alien, and most of the massive ones were slow in the city. They could run at least as fast as a man, but the buildings and ruins proved ample obstacles. With a bit of luck, I could survive this. I had done so before.\n\nA sudden crash to my right sent glass flying just ahead of me. An arthropod the size of a large dog landed in front of me, its razor-sharp legs digging into the floor. There was no chance of running from it. But if I climbed the building to avoid it, my pursuer would destroy it as if it was a cardboard box. I had two choices, but either led to death. \n\nMy right hand burned, a sharp red glow emitting from my palm. It felt like trapped electricity. Like every bit of primal power focused into a single thought.\n\nA choice:\n\nShall I **fight**, or **flee**?\n\n****\n\n[Part II](https://www.reddit.com/r/CroatianSpy/comments/7i4fn8/wp_resurge_ii/) | [Part III](https://www.reddit.com/r/CroatianSpy/comments/7i4p1p/wp_resurgence_iii/) | [Part IV (new)](https://www.reddit.com/r/CroatianSpy/comments/7i65tc/wp_resurgence_iv/)\n\nIt's a 'Choose Your Own Adventure' story! Vote on whichever choice you like best, and I hope I won't disappoint :)\n\n/r/CroatianSpy",
"All us helpless billions watch on our little glowing rectangles as our fellow humans die in droves. They fall screaming, choking, burning. The internet’s bad in the house, so we hunker on the steps of the chicken coop to see it.\n\nTogether we watch the end of the world. Our breath clouds and storms around us. But we do not notice the cold. Our hearts and bones are lead.\r\n\r\nMy siblings don’t make a sound. I look between the three of them and the black, faultless sky. I wonder if the afterlife looks like night, or if just looks like nothing. I wonder if I’ll find out soon.\r\n\r\nSomewhere far away, death shrieks scarlet overhead. Ships with roving eyes swarm the sky like an army of locusts. Bodies, whole and unwhole, strewn out one atop the other, left where they fell. Entire skyscrapers collapse like dominoes. News anchors weep, openly, if they’re on the air at all. My sister flicks restlessly through live streams, unable to pick which tragedy to behold.\r\n\r\nWe crowd my oldest sister’s phone, barely able to watch yet unable to look away.\r\n\r\nShe stops at the live press conference from the president. His voice is grave and hollow; he speaks to us from a dark room in some bunker somewhere. He says, “—at this point we have little hope. We will defend ourselves to the end, but tonight, please, stay inside, stay with your loved ones—”\r\n\r\nMy brother Aaron has his head between his knees. When we were kids he ran screaming after the cougar that took his puppy. (Aaron didn't catch it.) I never believed fear was an emotion he had. “Turn that shit off,” he gasps.\r\n\r\n“Ignoring the aliens invading our fucking planet won’t make them go away,” Maya snaps but she switches to Facebook. Not that any of her friends would have time to post *oh shit I’m dying*, anyway.\r\n\r\nOut here, under the unblinking stars, surrounded by a chorus of crickets and coyote, I can’t fathom what waits out there.\r\n\r\n“Someone has to tell Papa,” Jackie murmurs. She is my twin, but you can’t tell. People always seem disappointed that there’s such a thing as non-identical twin sisters.\r\n\r\n“You’ll just scare him.” Maya, the oldest, has always been the unofficial boss of all of us. She made it official when Dad started mistaking her for our mother and trying to scramble uncracked eggs. \r\n\r\n“He deserves to know,” she insists.\r\n\r\n“If they come here,” Maya says through her teeth, “we’re not getting a panicked old man into the truck without hurting someone, alright?” Her words hang frozen for a moment.\r\n\r\n“Do you think they’ll come out here?” I whisper. I am the youngest by eight minutes, and I am good at the part. \r\n\r\n“No,” says Jackie, quickly. “We’re in the middle of nowhere.”\r\n\r\nAaron pulls his beanie over his eyes. “I wouldn’t rule it out, Jack.”\r\n\r\nMaya gasps into her fingers. “Oh, god, they’re in Spokane.”\r\n\r\nBile shoots up my throat. That’s barely a hundred miles from here. Not even a particularly large city. I wonder if they’re hunting us one by one. Like rabbits.\r\n\r\n“Shit, is that Maddie’s—?” Aaron snatches the phone from her hands. \n\nI lean over his shoulder to see. \n\nMy sister’s friend has pressed her phone lens to the window of her dorm room. In the background, she speaks in rapid, panicked whispers with her roommate.\r\n\r\nOutside her window mortars plummet in blue and yellow streaks, big as bowling balls. I hear her cry, “Are they bombing us?” as the first one connects. It blooms soundlessly, a pale yellow locus, and then the power of it explodes outward. \r\n\r\nIt takes Maddie maybe six seconds to die. She has enough time to say, “I need to call my mom,” as the wall of smoke and debris rushes toward her like a sulfurous tsunami. The window shatters. The video goes black.\r\n\r\nI don’t even realize what I’ve seen until Maya starts bawling into her hands.\r\n\r\nA strange fire tingles in my palms, my belly. I feel the urge to move. To rise and fight.\r\n\r\n“We have to do *something*,” I say.\r\n\r\nAaron looks at me like I’m an idiot. “Like what?”\r\n\r\nMy fingers dance against the leg of my jeans. I know I should be scared as hell, but something in me is restless. Hungry for something very old, and long-forgotten.\r\n\r\nI stand up and face my siblings. I look them over carefully, in case this is the last time I see them. “We will not just watch.” I point at the house. “We won’t just let them kill everything and everyone and just stand here and *watch*.”\r\n\r\nJust south of us, down beyond the hide of the mountain, the sky turns red with fire.\r\n\r\nTears stream down my brother’s cheek. “I can’t believe this is fucking it.”\r\n\r\nI shake my head, insistently. Insanely. I don’t know why, but I can’t accept that this *is* it. That this is truly how we fall. \r\n\r\nI ball my fists up at my sides. A furious heat snaps at the bars of my ribs, yearning to set on those who dared attack our home, of all places. Our dad, of all people. \n\nI let the hate and heat fill me. \n\nFlame chases down my forearm, over my knuckles. The white hot of anger. My fist is a coal and my flesh is carved from the mountain, and I will destroy anything that threatens the ones I love.\r\n\r\n“Elektra,” my brother says, oddly calm, \"why is your hand glowing?\"\r\n\r\nI look at my palm and grin. The fire finds my belly now. The chaos delights some new-awoken part of me that I had never known I possessed. It is like catching my reflection in an angle I have never seen before. I am myself, but different.\n\r\n“I think...” I laugh, despite the clouds of smoke rising from town. It rises out of me like a bird. I have never felt smaller or stronger. “I think I did it on purpose.”\r\n\n***\n/r/shoringupfragments\n\n~~Doing part 2 right now~~ \n\nupdate: I accidentally deleted what I was working on. I'm going to go angrily eat cupcakes and try again. \n\nETA: I fell asleep :( I will post part two in a couple of hours when I'm on my break. You can check here or my sub. Thank you so much for reading. ",
"Part 1 | [Part 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/jraywang/comments/7i53fr/reaper_part_2/) | [Part 3](https://www.reddit.com/r/jraywang/comments/7iavci/reaper_part_3/) | [Part 4](https://www.reddit.com/r/jraywang/comments/7iokx3/reaper_part_4/)\n\n---\n\nI wouldn’t call it a war. Extermination maybe. Though I’d more aptly describe it as a harvest. By the time they reached our world and penetrated the stratosphere, people sought them out in droves to be harvested. Of course, they knew what that actually meant. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have been so eager.\n\nTen years before the *Angels* descended from the sky, they had already sent what some referred to as divine retribution: a virus. Though this virus in particular only targeted women. It spread faster than a wildfire and had a 100% mortality rate. Worse yet, it was completely undetectable. In our desperation, we became animals. We locked our wives, daughters, and mothers deep underground under the constant shine of UV radiation and still they got infected. Within five years, the last woman had died leaving the rest of humanity to slowly die with her.\n\nBy the time they arrived, we welcomed them with open arms into every one of our major cities. Most bowed their heads and practically begged to be killed. Some fought against them. These were the ones that still remembered the pain of watching their daughters, wives, and mothers die. They couldn’t hope to survive, but at least they could enact their own version of divine retribution.\n\nLooking back at it now, I know that the *Angels* planned for them. They wanted us to retaliate. Otherwise, where would be the fun? Men charged at them by the millions. Some to die. Some to kill. To the *Angels*, it was all the same.\n\nUntil we killed the first one.\n\nBack when I used to write, I always made sure to name my hero something memorable. If not a strange name, then certainly a strange title. Evan the Incorruptible. Matthew the Harbinger. But in real life, heroes rarely have titles, some don’t even have names. That was the case for humanity’s last hero because nobody knew who he was.\n\nWe had only stories. The stories ranged from fantastical to downright fiction, but they always ended the same. We had killed one. The *Angels* must’ve been as skeptical as we were because they refused to change their tactics. They kept all our major cities and welcomed anyone to try and take it back.\n\nBy the fifth dead *Angel*, they learned of their miscalculation. Soon, we learned of it as well. Human beings shared mana and with it, we could do wondrous or terrible things. Magic no longer belonged to the realm of fiction. The elements bent to our will. Lightning struck where we pointed, tornados formed where we stood, the ground swallowed up entire cities as we willed it.\n\nSuddenly, men stopped volunteering to be harvested. With their newfound power, they decided to fight back, even if victory had already been stolen from us. They had turned us into animals and then backed us into a corner. Foolish.\n\nAnd that was good enough for us. Looking back, I wonder if we were as foolish as the *Angels*. We, who were content with dying in our little blazes of glory, having accomplished nothing but thinning their ranks by just a bit. It was selfish, but what is there to expect from men who had nothing else to live for?\n\nNone of us had the vision you had. The vision you have.\n\n---\n\n---\n\nTyler put the pen down, staring at the word *you*. He wondered if his letter would ever find its way to this certain *you*. While humanity had become animals, one man had gone even further. He had been called a monster by both *Angel* and man. Nobody knew which side he fought for, only that he killed both indiscriminately.\n\nIf Tyler were to write his story, he wouldn’t know whether to make this man the villain or the hero. Oh how he wished he could’ve written this story, but the only way this story continued was if he died. Beside his letter and pen, sitting at the edge of his wooden table was a silver revolver. The single lightbulb above him glinted off its barrel.\n\nA small grin spread across Tyler’s face. He grabbed the gun, its metal like ice, and pressed it to his temple. Enough humans had died where he could stop the bullet with only his thoughts. The bullet couldn’t even hurt him unless he wanted it to. But he did. For the sake of humanity, he needed the bullet to kill him.\n\nWith his free hand, he picked the pen back up.\n\n---\n\n---\n\nAs the last storyteller on Earth, I bestow you the title of Reaper. A monster. A villain. Our last hero.\n\nGo forth, Reaper, my death as an offering. With my passing, there will be only four humans left. I have already contacted two of them and they will die with me. The last I’m sure you will easily find as your powers will have increased two-fold. By then, your mind will stretch the globe, perhaps even the stars. And when you become the last human alive, I cannot even fathom how powerful you will be.\n\nShow our *Angels* how fragile they are in the face of a god.\n\n---\n\n---\n\nTyler pulled the trigger.\n\n---\n\n/r/jraywang\n\n---\n\nPart 1 | [Part 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/jraywang/comments/7i53fr/reaper_part_2/) | [Part 3](https://www.reddit.com/r/jraywang/comments/7iavci/reaper_part_3/) | [Part 4](https://www.reddit.com/r/jraywang/comments/7iokx3/reaper_part_4/)\n\n\n"
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[removed] | [WP] A snippet from Harry Potter, as written by Aaron Sorkin | 1 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"Hi there, this post has been removed.\n\nPreviously written content is not allowed. Prompts that are likely to generate such responses are also not allowed. We want to inspire new writing. Go on a new journey, not a journey that has already been made. \n\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/7i45ny/wp_a_snippet_from_harry_potter_as_written_by/%0A%0A)\n\n*This action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things.*"
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[removed] | [WP] You've discovered a magical milkshake and with it, you can summon all/any the boys to your yard. | 1 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"Hi there, this post has been removed.\n\nNo troll, joke, or meme-based prompts. This includes prompts likely to attract 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/7i4pre/wp_youve_discovered_a_magical_milkshake_and_with/%0A%0A)\n\n*This action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things.*"
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[WP] You have discovered you have the ability to repeat what others say almost immediately after they say it. Your super hero name is Super Annoying. | 49 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"“Vi, stop it!” Mom yelled. \n\n“Vi, stop it!” I replied, as seriously as I could muster. This was the greatest game I’d ever thought up. \n\n“I’m serious,” said Mom. “This is getting out of hand.”\n\n““I’m serious,” I said. “This is getting out of hand.”\n\nMom groaned. “Fine, I just won’t talk to you then!” She threw herself into a chair and pulled out her phone. Great. Calling Dad. “Harold, she isn’t listening and she just repeats everything I say!” \n\n“Fine, I just won’t talk to you then! Harold, she isn’t listening and she just repeats everything I say!” I called from my playpen. \n\n“Oh my god, she’s doing it again! I thought 13 month olds weren’t even supposed to know how to talk!” \nI listened. \n\n“Honey, let’s just be happy our little girl is so smart! It can’t be that bad!” \n\n“It is! I swear I am going insane. I know she is my baby but she’s super annoying! I can’t do this anymore.”\n\n“Honey, let’s just be happy our little girl is so smart! It can’t be that bad! It is! I swear I am going insane. I know she is my baby but she’s super annoying! I can’t do this anymore.” I giggled. \n\n“There’s something different about her, Harold. This isn’t normal! She is driving me crazy!” \n\n“Relax, honey. She’s just smart, she’s our little superhero.”\n\n---------------------\nconstructive criticism very welcome!!"
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[WP] "My god, they stole the sky." | 1 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"Here is two different stories, each written to a different interpretation of the prompt. Please give me advice for these as these are my first stories posted to this site.\n \"My god they stole the sky\" I whispered in awe, staring up at where the sky used to be. All that was once the endless expanse of blue above my head taking up nearly half of the field of view. Space twisted and tuned above us, till the horizons were linked and nothing lay upwards. The sky, a fundamental constant of this world, banished with nothing left where it once was. It was the most terrifying display of power I could ever imagine. \n\nI was only 27 when they stole the sky. I had always wanted to fly through the endless expanse of blue that lay above us and so when I grew up I became a military pilot. I was a damn good one too. But that all changed one day. The enemy developed a weapon to use against us and it was devastating. Modern wars ever since WWII had always been fought in the air and they knew we were far superior in that field. So they came up with a weapon to negate that advantage of ours. Though the use of a weapon of mass destruction they started a storm up in the atmosphere, a storm of such violence that nothing could fly through it. Their scientists calculated that it would be confined to an small area and last a week at most. They were wrong, so very wrong. A decade later, the planet spanning winds still have not abated and the scientists have not the slightest idea why. All air traffic has ground to a halt, satellites are all but useless, too much static and the worlds farming has collapsed due to the perpetual storm clouds that forever block out the sun but never rain. The oceans are evening drying up. They say it's due to a complete shattering of the water cycle and its going to get worse before it gets better. I'm no scientist. I can't really help. I just wish with all my heart, for the sake of that little boy who looked up into the sky with wonder and finally conquered it, to fly just one last time before I die. Damn those bastards for stealing the sky. \n"
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[WP] You're an elf who has been in Santa's good graces for decade, so, he sends you on vacation to Florida. There, you meet the infamous, the death defying, the crazed Florida man. | 8 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"*Headline from the Miami Herald, dated May 19, 2018:*\n\n**Undocumented Dwarf found Partially Eaten, Sodomized in Florida Man’s Basement**\n\nMay 19: The body of an unidentified little person was discovered in the basement of a Dade County ranch-style home in the suburbs of Miami, police say. The corpse was said to be dressed in “cutoff velvet overalls, curly-toed boots, a hand spun undershirt, and an ‘old-timey fur-lined nightcap,’” according to first responders. No ID was found matching the corpse and the dental records match no known little people living in the Miami/Dade County area. \n\nThe homeowner, Carl Ball, is currently being held by police for kidnapping, murder, and suspected ingestion of the flesh of the unidentified little person. "
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[WP] Since birth you can see demons and other supernatural life forms. On the day you turn 18 the demons start noticing you. | 52 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"*English isn't my native language, please be indulgent with the mistakes i made, and I hope you'll enjoy*\n\n_______________________________________\n\n\nI've always seen them, but they didn't. I remember being traumatised by them as a kid. When I told people that I saw them, they thought I was \"maybe too over creative\" or just crazy. Many psychologists asked me tons of questions during the first ten years of my life, they asked me if I saw horror films, if I were alone, if I had any friends and other silly questions. It didn't take me long to understand that people around me weren't seeing them, and I also realized that the \"monsters\" weren't able to see me. I stopped talking about them when I was twelve, because this ability of seeing them ruined my social life with \"actual\" humans. Everybody thought that I was the weirdo and people ran away from me, even literaly sometimes. \n\n\n\nI was able to see two different kinds of these \"monsters\" : The ones that looked like normal humans - they were humans, I know it, one of my neighbour went into one of these things when he passed away - but they kept their physical look of when they died. And there was the reddish or pale white-skinned humans, sometimes they had animal parts like horns or clogs and a hoarse voice. I doubt that they were human once, or maybe they were but they were changed - how ? - between the time when they died and came back as... these things. They were scarier than the \"normal\" monsters, but they were also more rare.\n\n\n\nAt my eighteenth birthday, everything changed. I don't know if the date it was just a coincidence but... I don't believe in coincidences. When I woke up, everything looked fine at first. I was able to see the white pale woman in her white dress from the window of the bathroom, she kept roaming around in the park at the other side of the road of my apartment like every other day since she apparead... Maybe two years ago ? I don't remember. Maybe three years but I'm not really sure. I called her the \"Running lady\", because she randomly starts running and screaming, waving her knife in all directions for a few minutes before calming down and repeating this \"process\" all day and night long.\n\n\n\nBut when I went outside to go to work, I saw her staring at me, the arms all along the body, the head slightly aimed towards my feet. I froze immediatly, this is the first time I saw her staying motionless for this amount of time and... staring at me. I had the fright of my life when her head looked up to my eyes and started to groan, I wasn't even that panicked the first time I saw one of them. I jumped into my car and drove as fast as I could, far from home, and took the highway that leads to my work place. I kept saying to myself \"Don't worry, it's fine, I probably imagined this\" but, in a way, i knew that this day would come. \n\n\n\nWhile the car was stucked in the daily traffic jam on the highway, I started to calm down, I thought that it wasn't a big deal and i'll probably learn to live with this, or maybe it was just my imagination, so I turned on the radio, thinking that the music would help me to recover from this little adrenaline rush. After a few moment, I arrived at the location of another roamer - two of them actually. These ones were bikers - it was a couple, and I gave them the nickname \"Mr. and Mrs. Motorcycle\" - and they both died in a crash. They were both wearing a leather jacket and jeans, the woman had long blond hair and the top of her skull was broken with a lot of blood covering her face and the man had the half of his face ripped off because he slipped on the concrete on four, maybe five feet. They were standing on the side of the highway, holding hands, facing the location of the crash where they both took their last breath. I always told to myself that it would be very cute in a way if I wasn't able to see their misshapen skull and the remaining of their cerebral matter on the ground. But, this day, for the first time, they \"saw\" me. Everytime I am stuck in this traffic jam, so almost every day since a huge period of time, they didn't do anything else but looking at the blooded concrete. And this very day after the incident with the Running lady, Mrs. Motocycle stared at me, and warned her... Husband ? Boyfriend ? Whatever what he is... or was... Dammit. They both looked at me, giving each other multiple glances until Mr. Motorcycle raised his hand and pointed a finger at me. I freaked out as I never did before. Hopefully I was able to leave the highway not so long after this. I had to stop my car at the nearest bar to go to the bathroom and take a coffee. I know it wasn't a good idea since my heart was already pounding very quickly but... I had to take a break and here I am, still shaking and talking to myself. Calm down now, everything will be fine, as always. Now let's go to work and... Oh no... I hope that the Scary Gunman won't notice me...",
"I almost half cry, half sang happy birthday.\nHappy birthday to me.\nI am alone. I have always been alone. People shun me. And I'm invisible to the demons and ghosts. They aren't tangible. I can walk right through them.\n\nI love people, but I also hate how they make me feel. I take another bite at the plant. The shamans said they could cure me. They said I would grow of it. They said if I prayed to the 13 gods of Gaia that I would be found worthy. They would take this curse from me.\n\nI wish even a ghost would speak to me. I'm so alone. I pray to the 13 gods. I'm not a bad person. I don't hurt or eat animals. I don't steal for any settlements. I don't talk back to my elders. I sit on the ridge of Mount Quintolo. My long brown hair caresses my skin with the help of the wind.\n\nI lay my book Daemonum down next to me\n\nI shiver. I stand up to see as far as the eye can see.\nThere's a Bunzaree flying above me. A two headed 4 winged bird of prey. I shoot an arrow close to it. Not to hurt. But to scare away the beautiful golden bird.\n\nAs I take a step towards the edge I look down. I cry harder. I'm so alone. The purple sun goes into hiding behind Mount Quintolo's twin. Casting a shadow over me. I feel darkness.\nI feel and hear a *whoosh*. As loud as one of our warships in the wind. I know that sound, it's the sound of a Dakini appearing. I had only ever seen one in my lifetime. I was 12 sun cycles old and I swear it looked straight at me. I genuinely thought I had hallucinated it.\n\nThis time I shudder. Not because of the cold. But because of how eerily humanoid they look. The biggest difference is the eye colour are nearly always glowing red.\n\n\"What are you doing?\" A voice that always sounded strange whenever I heard them. Like it was next to you but also far away.\n\nI turned around and started to walk back. \"You're not supposed to see me. Stay away. What are you?\n\n\"Be careful\"\n\nI didn't hear him. I was scared. I was frightened. Another step too far. I screamed as loud as I could as I realised I was plummeting to my death.\n\n*Woosh*\n\"You're falling. Did you mean to?\"\n\"NO. I WANT TO LIVE\"\nI near the end of my life.\n*Woosh*\n\n\nOr so I thought.\n\n\nI wake up next to a campfire. Surrounded by a woodland I had never seen before. Different plants and trees. Sounds never heard. Where am I?\n\n*Woosh* I jump. I find a log and I grab it in both hands.raising it above my head.\n\"You wish me harm?\" It's eyebrows raised in surprise.\n\"Where am I?\" I said aloud.\n\n\"Jungle Shinjato\"\nThat doesn't explain where I am! What is a jungle? Where am I?\" I demanded.\n\n\"You are 400 donti's east of Jabrael.\"\n\"Four hun... FOUR HUNDRED?! ARE YOU FRICKING CRAZY?!\"\n\"Calm. I have been watching you. Why did you wish death?\"\n\"I don't. Not anymore\".\n\n\"Good. Eat. Track my footpath once you have finished.\"\n\"I'll come now!\"\n\"Eat. Track my footpath afterwards.\"\n\nHe walked off into the night amidst all of the eerie green.\n\nI finally found him, he began speaking as I emerged into the clearing\n\"There is something you need to know. You have been chosen. Chosen to merge these two worlds together.\"\nDemons with humans have been separated for too long. Our world is dying. The bridge needs to be repaired. You are the only one capable of doing so.\"\n\n\"I'm a child what do I know of buildings bridges and worlds?\"\n\n\"You are 16 sun cycles old. And you my dear Sunraila, are the prophetic key to this mess. Are you ready?\"\nI nod\n\"Then let us begin\"",
"It was interesting to see them. At first my parents just thought that I was an imaginative child and assumed i would grow out of it. By age 10 I had started following their lives, it was like have my own personally sitcom. I didn't need real friends which was good since I didn't have many of them anyway which was to be expected considering I was the crazy kid at the back always off in my own world. If only they knew. By 15 I knew most of their names but always felt lonely. It was like looking through 1-way glass - I could see them but they couldn't see me. I had to start seeing a psychiatrist who tried prescribing me drugs but I never took them. Why? Because I knew they wouldn't have an effect. \n\nAnd then I turned 18... It was mayhem and I loved every minute of it. Finally I could talk to my friends. After all these years I could finally interact with them. They were very confused at first; who wouldn't be? a strange creature appearing that knows everything about your world. Then they realised that maybe I wasn't so bad. \n\nAnd that is the tale of how I became the most famous talk show host in their society.\n\n*15 years later*\n\n\"Is he still hallucinating.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry but I don't think he will ever stop.\"\n\n\"Still the same loop?\"\n\n\"Always the same\"\n\n\"How very odd. Leave her as normal and I will be back in a month for the \nnormal update\"\n\n\"Yes Sir\"\n\n\"Goodbye, doctor keep up the experimentation\""
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[WP] You come from a long line of superheroes and supervillains. A long time ago, a curse was placed on your family, so that each successive generation would be the opposite alignment to the last. As a superhero, you are waiting for the other shoe to drop, for your child. | 36 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"I knew exactly what I was walking into with my wife. I knew what our son would turn out to be, no matter how vehemently she wanted to deny his fate, and I knew who he would love more between the two of us. The villains always favored the mundane. But I didn't care. I told my wife that no matter what, I would love our child just as much as I loved her, and that no curse of \"switched blood\" and \"opposite fate\" could change that. \n\nA wide yawn stretched across my face as I sauntered into her hospital room, two cups of hot coffee in my hands. Rebecca was sprawled across the bed, her hair billowing in the breeze that was her pillow, and her gown was twisted around her body as if she'd been rolling down a hill. Still, even after the birth, I couldn't deny that she was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen.\n\n\"Good morning, sweetheart.\" I whispered. She turned to me with an exhausted smile.\n\n\"Morning.\" She murmured as she took the cup of coffee. She sipped it gingerly, her eyes closing to relish the warmth.\n\n\"How are you feeling?\" I asked, sliding into the worn armchair that hadn't left its place beside her bed.\n\nShe shrugged. \"Better than yesterday, I guess. But I'm fine. How's your sister doing?\"\n\nThe cup stopped halfway to my lips at her words. An red flag shot up in my mind. I hadn't seen or spoken to my sister in five years, and Rebecca knew that.\n\n\"What do you mean?\" I asked, struggling to keep my voice calm and collected.\n\nRebecca lowered her cup carefully, her eyebrows crossing in concern. \"She came here not ten minutes ago to congratulate me on the baby- I thought you called her here.\"\n\nI shook my head, slamming the cup down on the bedside table. \"No, I didn't.\"\n\nRebecca called out to me, but her words were blurred into incoherent shouts as I darted out the door.\n________________________________________________\n\nI found her in the ICU, standing longingly over the sleeping body of my son. A hot flash of anger seared through my veins, sending me flying into the ICU. Her head snapped up at the sound of my entry, but she didn't look surprised to see me. In fact, she *grinned* when her eyes found mine.\n\n\"Ah, Brady!\" she exclaimed, waltzing over to throw her arms around me, \"How good it is to see you again, dear brother.\"\n\n\"Cut the crap Marinda, what do you want?\" I spat, making sure to pack as much venom into my words as I could.\n\nShe didn't appear fazed at all by my hostility. \"I just wanted to meet the newest member of our family! My new little nephew will be the quite the bundle of joy, I'm sure!\"\n\n\"But of course,\" she continued, any joy she had draining from her expression, \"I'm also sure you know exactly what he'll turn out to be.\"\n\nI swallowed hard against the lump in my throat. I knew this was coming. I knew she couldn't just let it go. My sister had always despised villains, even ones from our own family, and I didn't blame her. If the superhero blood ran strong in anyone, it was her.\n\n\"I'm aware.\" I breathed, my voice shaking with rage. She was standing too close to my son for comfort.\n\nHer eyes slid back down to Cameron, drinking in his tiny, villain-infested body. \"So you know what must be done, don't you?\"\n\nSomething glinted in her left hand. A knife, no doubt, that she had made invisible to take with her into the hospital. Invisibility, of herself and anything she wanted. That was her power. And she had used it to get close to my son.\n\n\"Marin, don't.\" I whispered, holding up my hands as a sign of good faith. Any sudden movements, and she'd be gone before I could stop her.\n\n\"You remember the vow we made, Brady? When we were kids?\" She asked nonchalantly, as if she wasn't threatening to kill my only child.\n\nBefore I could respond, she cut in, her voice as cold as ice. \"We vowed never to have children of our own. That the curse would be broken because our family would cease to exist after our deaths. And you know what happens when you break a vow, dear brother?\"\n\n\"Marin, please.\" I pleaded. I knew I sounded pathetic, but I didn't care. \"We can talk about this- if he's raised correctly, maybe he won't turn into a villain!\"\n\n\"Raised correctly?\" She laughed. \"He's got villainy in his blood, Brady. He can't be raised correctly.\"\n\nI took a few steps forward, enough to put myself at the edge of Cameron's bed. His cheeks were rosy and plump, and his thumb was already in his mouth. I smiled, a tear rolling down my cheek. How could something so small and vulnerable be evil? \n\n\"I'm sorry, Marinda.\" I whispered, never taking my eyes off of Cameron. \"But I can't let you have him. He might be a villain, but he's my son.\"\n\nShe made a move then, a move that pushed her to the side so she could get a better angle on my son, and then she vanished. But it didn't matter. In all that time we'd been talking, I'd honed in on her being, her energy, her soul. With a small flick of my wrist, I sent my invisible sister flying backwards until she hit the metal shelves adorning the back wall. Her unconscious form reappeared on the floor, bruises already forming where she had hit the shelves.\n\nI leaned down, wrapping my arms around my son, pulling him up into my arms. He was so delicate and fragile, but I knew that he'd be strong. One day, his powers would surpass even mine, and there would be no limit to what he could do. \n\nThe sound of blaring alarms assaulted my ears, and a stampede of footsteps thundered around me, but I kept my gaze focused on Cameron. I focused harder, closing my eyes momentarily, and with a single thought, the alarms stopped and the footsteps vanished. The sleeping bodies I stepped over had collapsed right where they had been standing. \n\nI exited the hospital, my son in my arms. A momentary image of Rebecca flashed behind my eyes, but I blinked it away. I had to get Cameron away from here. I was the only one who understood him, the only one who could train him. I was the only one who could raise him right.\n\n\n\n",
"I'd almost have preferred a supervillan. \n\nRight- context first. For the purpose of this conversation, my name is Prowler. The White Prowler, fifth of the name. Renowned across the city for my acts in the name of justice. A hero, I thought. \n\nThe White Prowler, first of his name, was a hero just like me. An unstoppable force against evil, using the power of flight to combat ill deeds. And, like any good superhero, had a nemesis supervillan, Morrigan, the witch. \n\nThey quarreled back and forth, neither able to gain the upper hand for many years, until, desperate to best his adversary, the White Prowler pledged his arm to a supervillan league- under the condition that they would first help him take down Morrigan.\n\nAs she was dragged away in chains, she cursed the now-Black Prowler, that his legacy would undergo the same changes he did, good to evil, one generation to the next. A hero would birth a villan. A villan, a hero. \n\nWe tried to find loopholes, of course. Adoption? Didn't work. Long lost children? Turned out perfectly according to the curse. There was no escape. I'm the fifth White Prowler. My sons and daughters would be villans.\n\nI have one son. His name is Jonathan. He's the light of my life, and he's becoming a hero. \n\nI could handle it all, except the doubt. ",
"\"Dad! Hand me that glove, will you?\"\n\nKillian Gair looked up from his packing to see what his son wanted. Eying the baseball glove on the mantle - a significant distance from his son's room - Killian rolled his eyes, but obliged regardless. With a practiced flick of his fingers, it jettisoned through the air towards his son's room and - with a satisfying *thock* - smacked the teen in the head.\n\n\"Ow!\"\n\n\"Next time say please,\" Killian said as he walked into the boy's room with a box full of books. \n\nPadraig gave his father a sour look, though there remained a note of amusement. As the two resumed packing, Paddy picked up a photo, and he grinned, pointing to it. \n\n\"I forget how ridiculous we looked,\" the brown-haired, stocky boy stated, tracing a photo of his aunt wearing a skin-tight uniform, his father dressed likewise in opposite colors, while the boy between them - Paddy, age five - proudly showed off his Lycra bodysuit. \n\n\"Didn't Aunt Vi save some fishing boat right before this?\" Paddy asked. \n\n\"Yeah, yeah, I think she did,\" Killian said, taking the picture in hand and letting it dangle somewhat from his fingers. \n\nThe two stood in bittersweet silence before resuming their task. Before long, the boy's room was packed up, and the two hauled their things out to the car. Killian could hear Moira crying in the bathroom, and he hesitantly dragged her out to say goodbye to her son before they hopped into the car. \n\nThe worry nagged at Killian's gut. For so much of his life, Paddy had been carefully, painstakingly watched and monitored, a tightrope walk of push and pull from various aunts and uncles. If he began to notice too much, he might rebel. If they didn't watch him enough, he might get up to some shenanigans presaging his steady descent. Killian's hands tightened around the steering wheel as he thought of his parents. \n\n\"You know I'll just be, like, three hours away, right?\" Paddy said as he looked out the window. \n\n\"I know. It's not as bad as your Mum makes it out to be,\" Killian said. But he knew better than to expand on Moira's discomfort with letting the boy so far out of sight. \"Your aunts and uncles are close by, anyhow, so if you ever need anything and you can't get a hold of me --\"\n\n\"Yeah, yeah, Aunt Mary and Uncle Onan say if I don't call 'em at least once a week to check up, they'll flog me half to death in front of the journalism college,\" Paddy muttered as he leaned his head against the cool car window. \n\n\"And they'll do it, too,\" Killian warned in jest. \"I saw Onny unravel a buck once.\"\n\n\"Get out! A buck?\" \n\n\"Took hours to clean up after. And we were boys, then.\"\n\nIt was a godsend that Onny had been born in Killian's year. A generation earlier... \n\nHe wasn't sure what it was about it. There'd always been the legend - passed from father to sun, mother to daughter, aunt and uncle to every cousin - that every other generation, the bad eggs would come. He and his brothers and sisters and cousins, they'd always figured it an old wives tale, especially after they tried to get themselves a fresh start, beginning with Paddy's parents. He remembered their theorizing during those halcyon summers near the lake cabin that perhaps the overbearingly 'good' nature of the parents turned their children, and vice versa. It was a cycle of the good rebelling against bad, and bad against good, the way a teenager became an atheist in a Mormon family, or becoming a staunch flat-earther in a family of scientists. And the 'curse' just made it worse, a self-fulfilling prophecy of 'well it is supposed to be this way.'\n\nFinally, they were putting that theory to the test. \n\nKillian had hoped - without that shadow hanging over him - Padraig would be different. So far as they'd seen, he had no abilities just yet of his own. He was a young man with a seemingly bright future of A/B honor roll and a possible spot on the lacrosse team. In the beginning, Killian had worried because Paddy liked the occasional scuffle a little too much, but that seemed to be just boyish energy and a naturally sanguine personality. Still, his stomach rose up on him every time he saw Paddy get red beneath the collar. \n\nAt last, they reached the campus, a city of red brick buildings done in gothic style, and the two got out. People whispered and pointed at Killian surreptitiously, half-recognizing him as someone they knew somewhere, and Paddy, to his credit, had learned to ignore the rubberneckers. They set to moving Paddy to his dorm, and after an hour of unpacking and unloading, with a little help from Killian's 'gift', they stood beside the car in anticipation.\n\n\"Hey - I'll try and come home like once a month or somethin',\" Paddy promised, and Killian reached out to his son for a hug. Paddy, tears hidden from his father's gaze as he looked over his shoulder, hugged him tightly, and Killian said, \"You need anything, you just say, okay? I'm a phone call away.\"\n\n\"Yeah, yeah, I will, Dad, I will. I'm gonna do good. No video games after 10 PM,\" Paddy laughed as the two let go, and he quietly wiped his face.\n\n\"I don't doubt,\" Killian laughed, ruffling Paddy's hair, and the boy waved him off, rearranging his appearance before beginning to walk towards the dorm. Killian watched with pride as his boy walked down the path. \n\nAn errant skateboarder - texting - suddenly crashed into Paddy, and the boy jumped to his feet indignantly, face red as he shouted at him. Killian's smile slowly died as the skateboarder shrugged, held his hands up in apology, and continued on his way, Paddy steaming as he stomped his way back towards the dorm. \n\nTime would only tell. "
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[removed] | [WP] A teenage boy is addicted to sex hotlines and meets his new teacher. Onoy he recognizes her voice... From one if the hotlines. | 2 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"Hi there, this post has been removed.\n\nSexually explicit themes are 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/7immqn/wp_a_teenage_boy_is_addicted_to_sex_hotlines_and/%0A%0A)\n\n*This action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things.*"
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1,
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[removed] | [WP] You are depressed and planning your to kill yourself tomorrow, the next day, you find out that your has life completely changed for the better, you then realised that you actually woke up in as another version of you in a parallel universe | 1 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](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/7imtpk/wp_you_are_depressed_and_planning_your_to_kill/%0A%0A)\n\n*This action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things.*"
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[WP] You and your music band are sent back in time to Henry VIII's courts | 2 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"\"If it pleases your Lordship Highness!\" I cried out to throng. They had all gone a bit mad with the sudden arrival of us. 'Us' in the situation being an aspiring band formed the crucible of my mom's garage. We were getting there, we even had a gig at a local coffee shop. On a Tuesday night...\n\nThe guards brandished these wicked looking spear thingy, I skipped History the week we went over the Dark Ages so I didn't know what they really were. Still. They looked *sharp*. Eddie, my drummer looked like he was going to wet himself. \"Jesus, what have you gotten us into?\"I waved a hand to hush him up.\n\n\"Ladies and Gentlemen of the Kingly Court! I offer you a gift, we are musicians! Unlike any other you have ever seen! Might we give the gift of song, by way of making ourselves welcome?\" The crowd hesitated, the fat bastard on the throne looked confused but also a bit curious. After a moment, he nodded. \n\n\"Okay guys, let's get ready!\" I slung my guitar strap over a shoulder and turned to the crowd. \"And for all of you out there in the audience, jump in when you feel comfortable, after all the second verse is the same as the first!\"\n\nNeedless to say our cover of Herman's Hermits 'Henry the VIII, I Am' wasn't the best song choice to start off with. "
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"1512830174",
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[removed] | [WP] Someone knocks on the door. Suddenly, I wake up and hear someone knocking. Someone stop this cycle, I just want to know who is behind the door... | 1 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](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/7iokmd/wp_someone_knocks_on_the_door_suddenly_i_wake_up/%0A%0A)\n\n*This action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things.*"
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"1512845578",
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[WP] You pop the cap off your beverage and notice it has some writing inside: "Your journey begins now." You think nothing of it, until a few moments later when you're stunned by the white light and loud roaring noise. | 9 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"“Well shit.” said Emmett, though his words were overpowered by the waterfall’s insistent roar.\n\nHe was standing on a sunny river shore, undoubtedly in some far away land. These sorts of things never dropped you in a Montana forest twenty miles from a city. Emmett glanced down and was reassured to see that he was still wearing street clothes and his fashionably-ambiguous fanny packs.\n\n“Welcome, hero.” boomed an impressive voice. “We have long awaited your arrival.”\n\nEmmett’s eye twitched. The speaker was a distractingly muscular old man with a wizard’s beard and no shirt. Logically, he understood that it was possible to be 70 years old and have a six pack, but his gut reaction was unease. \n\n“Yeah. Great.” he managed. “Just great.”\n\n“I am sure you have many questions. This world, Ko’Ko’La is a mirror to yours-”\n\n“No, actually. Just one question. What do you want from me?” interrupted Emmett.\n\nThe old man raised a fuzzy caterpillar of an eyebrow. “Impatience is unbecoming of the noble hero.”\n\nEmmett sighed and settled in for some narrative exposition.\n\n---\n\nThe summoned hero (Emmett) was called upon in a time of great need (now) to face a terrible evil (some long dead tyrant king come back to life). He was expected to gather about him a host of honorable companions (probably by fighting them to prove his worth) and some legendary artifacts (at opposite corners of the world).\n\nBut Emmett did none of that.\n\nA fan of Mark Twain, Emmett did his best to reenact *A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court*. He appropriated a fireworks merchant’s cart and found a nearby blacksmith to improvise some unwieldy weapons. He taught algebra to the resident scholars, basic first aid to the leech doctors, and a smattering of chemistry to the alchemists for funds. Three weeks later he was leading a guerrilla warfare team of mercenaries through the backdoor of the king's hideout.\n\nThis was unconventional in the extreme, but Emmett was an unconventional individual. \n\nThe necromancer/vizier minion was in the process of raising some form of infernal lieutenant when Emmett’s strike team filled him full of hot lead. His death rattle brought the undead king’s attention.\n\n“WHAT MORTAL DARES TO INTERFERE WITH MY EMPIRE?” demanded Lord Pyk’Se.\n\nInstead of engaging in a climactic battle debate, Emmett hurled a primitive grenade from behind the zombie’s back. Lord Pyk’Se cut it out of the air without looking (as expected) and was promptly ignited by a flurry of Molotov cocktails. No amount of eldritch lore was able to stymie thermodynamics once the alchemist's version of Greek Fire was alight.\n\n“Your lordship? What do we do now?” asked one of the mercenaries staring at Lord Pyk’Se’s burning unanimated carcass.\n\nEmmett shrugged. “My job’s done. The guns are yours. Go overthrow a monarchy or something.”\n\nAnd as if on cue, a beam of light shone upon Emmett and pulled him back into his world.\n\n---\n\n“Boss! There you are.” Andria, Emmett’s apprentice ran up to him. “Nice getup.” she quirked an eyebrow at his medieval attire (still girdled with a fanny pack).\n\n“Yo. When are we?” Emmett rubbed his eyes and looked at the empty alleyway. The sound of cars honking through busy streets bounced off the tired brick walls. Back in the U.S. at least.\n\n“Half an hour till the vampire gets here.” Andria looked at him worriedly. “You all together?”\n\n“Yeah. Great.” Emmett said. “Just great.”\n\nEmmett Niebuhr, Knight Errant of the Arbiters, clandestine guardian of the divide between the mundane and supernatural worlds, let out a sigh. He was used to dealing with weird things, but he wished they’d limit themselves to one per day. Some days it felt like he was living in a bad TV show. With a weary hand he unzipped the fanny pack and drew out a bottle of powdered garlic.\n\n“Let’s get back to work.”\n\n---\n\nIf you liked this post and want to read more of Emmett's r/WritingPrompts adventures take a look at my [blog](https://thenaticswest.wordpress.com/). "
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"1512868651",
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it could also be with a hated person who is very ticklish, or a Comedian. | [WP] You live in a world where everyone who laughs dies instantly. in this world, you're a serial killer. | 83 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"‘The kill spot’ began the instructor, ‘can be here.’\nPointing to the captive’s bellybutton, the spy squirmed in anticipation.\n‘Or here,’ directing his students to the upper ribs.\n‘Or here.’ Now the underarms.\n‘Or, perhaps’ he said, leaning over the spy’s bare sole. Her eyes widened and she whimpered.\n‘Here,’ he said, grazing a finger under the toes. \nThe spy spy squeaked in her gag and tried to giggle. Then her eyes rolled back in her head, showing their whites. She convulsed once, then stilled.\n",
"Really, it's his own fault for drinking. Everyone knows that drinking lowers your inhibitions. With lowered inhibitions you might do anything. You might argue. You might smile. You might let a stranger drive you home. \n\nHe's in the passenger seat right now, grinning at strangers on the sidewalk. He's one of a rare and dying breed. We live in a somber, dreary world. Smiling is viewed as a gateway to laughter. You must be very, very, careful. I'm sure that most of the time, he is. Like I said, it's his fault for drinking.\n\nHe's almost there. So close to the laughter, engrained so deep in our nature. All he needs is a professional touch, to push him over. So he'll give in. \n\nWe pull up to his door. He stumbles out the car door, and promptly trips. Not even the grit from the road, now digging into his palms, wipes that grin off his face. I slip my arm under his. Yes. Trust me. And help him inside.\n\nIt takes nearly nothing for him to let me in. We're friends, after all. Been drinking together all night. I drove him home. Poor, trusting soul. Never should have let me in. \n\n\"Heeey, Jason.\" I slur, adopting the affectations of a drunk. \"Why'da chicken cross the road?\" Genuine puzzlement crossed his face. He hadn't heard this, the most elementary of jokes. \n\n\"I dunno. Why'da chicken cross the road?\"\n\n\"To get to the other side.\"\n\nAgain, confusion clouded his exquisite smile. \"To get..\" There! Understanding, dawning. \"to the other side!\" And the man, so happy, so trusting, laughed. \n\nI stood over the still warm corpse, and matched his rictus smile. "
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[WP] Reincarnation is real. Every soul gets their memories wiped, and move on into the next life. You however, remember EVERYTHING. | 19 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"I have only met her 3 times during hundreds of my reincarnations. Those 3 lifetimes were perfect. She is my soul mate. For every lifetime I spent with her. I spent the rest of my lives looking for her.\nOur love is bittersweet.\n\n\nAs the thousands of years have gone by, I found her again. I survived with my soul mate World Wars 1 and 2. My Gods this lifetime has been beautiful\n\n\n\nI look at her and with my last breaths. \"Until our next lifetime. I am forever yours, Livia.\"\n\n\"As am I yours, Felix\" she holds my face as diamonds of love embrace my cool face. With her tears wet on my brow. Surrounded by yet another beautiful family. \n\nBefore I left this earth I hear my great granddaughter ask her mum with tears in her eyes \"why don't they ever call each other their real names?\". \"I'll tell you why another time go hold your great grandma's hand.\"\n\n\nLight. Purity. Silence.\n\n**Ouch**\n\nSon of a...\n\nA slap across my bare bottom as I scream and cry in pain.\nBloody doctors. They should be more gentle.\nI feel love and warmth as my newest mother embraces me close to her breast.\n\nLivia. I will find you. I am yours forever.",
"I'll never get used to death. The white light, the disorientation, the disappearing of my body. Getting thrusted into an endless void of indescribable colors and forms, not quite being sure how I even perceive them. Seeing, or rather *feeling* millions of souls being purified, robbed of their memories, and being sent back to mortal bodies to live another life. \n\nBut it never happened to me.\n\nI've lived thousands of lives, sometimes rich, sometimes poor, sometimes completely seperated from society. But when you know that reincarnation exists and you remember everything, life loses its value. Sure, I've had my fair share of fun times, charged head first into battles, lead nations or destroyed them. With time even this becomes boring. Since a hundred lives I searched for a way out, talked to every shaman, priest and rabbi I could find, took substances they told me would \"make you meet god\", went to the very extremes of human existence and meditated for entire lives. But nothing. No answer from anybody, no sign. My memory is my everlasting punishment. \"Whatever\" I think, as I take another line, \"at least the drugs are good here\"."
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[removed] | [WP] Each Social-Media site is a nation. What happens when they go to war? | 1 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"Hi there, this post has been removed.\n\nWhile it doesn't seem to be your intent, the mods reserve the right to remove anything we feel may become harmful to the community. This includes prompts likely to generate such responses. \n\nNo troll, joke, or meme-based prompts. This includes prompts likely to attract 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/7ixkln/wp_each_socialmedia_site_is_a_nation_what_happens/%0A%0A)\n\n*This action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things.*"
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"1512946589",
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[WP] You are the child of an evil and corrupted king. You were hidden from the public and have no idea of the kings deeds. One day, the rebellion fighting the king attacks the castle. in the confusion, You find the leader of the rebellion, who does not recognise you, and takes you in. | 88 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"**Birthright**\n\n\nThe orange and white Banners of my father fall off the wall like dreams lost in firelight.\n\n\"Here boy!\" a man in uneven reds pleaded.\n\n*Was that blood?* I wondered, not really wanting to find out.\n\n\"Don't be afraid,\" I heard from a calm voice behind him. Unlike the Bloodman, her voice seemed trusting enough: Almost motherly. \"We can get you outta here. You'll be safe with us.\"\n\n*Unlikely*, I should have thought at the time. However, my heart, missing the warm embrace of my late mother, jumped at the stranger's reassuring words.\nClimbing down from my bed, I crawled my way to the Entrance: the Bloodman had given way to an isle-skinned twenty something with her arms outstretched in ragged military drab.\n\nAn old burn marred the left side of her cheek, but whatever fear I possessed from her appearance at the time was overcome by the safety in her smile and the promise in her eyes.\n\nAs I crawled under a fallen support beam, a rogue shell blasted through the hallway, pushing her fear-stricken face away in a flash of amber light. The tremors snaking through the floor broke the last remaining support beams above causing a cascade of collapse, sending me hurtling towards the ground.\n\n \nThat is what I remember about Republic Day - some ten years ago. The famine didn't pass with the drought, though Arla - the burn-faced woman who pulled me from the wreckage - did.\n\nShortly after discovering my heritage, she gave me her last name to hide me from the Pretender-Purges. She told me the newly found Republic needed eradicate any possible threats, but my innocence should grant me life. Once the subsequent seizure of food and wealth commenced, however, even she began to doubt the Republic's motive.\n\nI hate the Republic. They took from me my crown when I was eight, and now, they've starved Arla: Famine took her last week.\n\n*\"You are to inherit all of her assets\"*, said the clerk, which amounted to the rubble-raised home we eked out in the years following revolution. *\"The Appraisal Service will arrive within the week to requisition the borrowed military and government supplies\"*, which - also - amounted to the rubble-raised home she reared me in.\n\nAnd so, the knock on the door bids me flight. Wearing her thrice-patched overcoat of twelve years, I escape through the back door.\n\nLeaping into the alley, I run through the facts:\n \nI am king.\n\nThe Republic killed Arla\n\nAnd I will reclaim my birthright.\n \n-Addalynn Deyer\n\n12/21/09 YR (Year of Republic)\n\n\n\n*Edit: Grammar*",
"I miss my dad and my mom, my brothers and sisters. I'm not sure how many are still alive. All I can account for are the ones who I saw murdered in front of me. The horse I'm on doesn't have a saddle, my hands are tied, and the lady riding in front of us seems to be in command. I turn around to look back on the castle that I've called home for more than 15 years. Everything happened in the blink of an eye. It couldn't be later than two or three in the morning; I'm still in my pajamas. The walls of the castle are covered in wooden ladders that the attackers used to penetrate the fortress. The stone towers that were patrolled by my personal guard Qarn and old childhood friend Poh are in complete ruin. I'm at least a mile from home now, but I continue to hear the drowned out sounds of guards as they're killed (mostly people I befriended over time). As we continue riding, I see less and less of the castle, until only the glow from the flames are visible, and even that disappears within minutes.\n\nI turn back around, trying to comprehend the past hour. I can't stop shaking, not because I'm scared, but because - well I don't know why to be honest. The rebels walking next to my horse look stoic, but I can tell they're holding back feelings of celebration.\n\nWe begin slowing down, the lady in front of our squadron turns around and lifts her legs across the horse to face me, \"So what's your name?\".\n\nI remain silent. I continue to stare down at my horse and pretend not to hear her. Out of my peripheral I notice a glint frustration run across her face. She pulls back on the reigns, slowing her horse further until its pace matches mine, \"Do you even have a name?\". Both of her legs are now on one side of the horse, her hands cradling her head as she looks at me inquisitively; she's leaning so far toward me I'm surprised she hasn't fallen over yet. She seems concerned about me, but there's no way I can tell her the truth, it's just too risky. \n\n\"No\", I mangle under my breath. Without hesitation she responds, \"Would you like one?\". In a state of confusion, my head jerks up and looks at her, shit, I should not have done that. I attempt to correct my error by promptly looking down at my horse again. My head snaps toward her direction, this time with physical force, her hands engulf my face and her grip pinches the outside of my cheeks; her hands feel more callused than I was expecting. \"Niok\", \"Niok?\" I say back to her funnily because of her grip. \"Yes, your name is now Niok\". She lets go of my face and turns back to a proper riding position, my mouth remains agape, Niok, how the hell do you even spell Niok?",
"There's a lot of screaming and yelling coming from the main lobby of our castle. I hope father isn't cross with me or something. Looking down at my clothes which are tarnished with soot and dust from all the *exploring* I've just done, I feel like I should definitely hide from the butlers and maids right now before I get a lecture.\n\nI run into the kitchen, which is a floor below the lobby. Grabbing an apple off the counter, I take a few bites before hiding myself in the cabinet beneath one of the cutlery tables. \n\n*Hopefully they won't find me here. Bennett's already caught me here twice in the last week, so they should think I've moved on to my other spots, right?*\n\nAs the door to the cabinet is closed, the little box I'm in is rather dark. But I'm not afraid of the dark, it rather suits me I'd like to think.\n\n*Although I'm sure father would be real perturbed if I told him I'd prefer being here in this cabinet rather than that gala he's hosting. Who actually thinks galas are any fun anyways? Just a bunch of pansies dancing around isn't it?*\n\nAs I chuckle to myself over my superiority to the wusses at father's dinner parties, the loud yelling and crashing noises gets closer. Suddenly, a voice like brass sounds throughout the kitchen outside the door,\n\n\"Behold you enslaved souls under the foot of a tyrant! We, the Resistance, free you from your bonds this day!\"\n\n*Souls? Bonds? That's a bit dramatic isn't it? Sounds like something out of one of those old-fashioned plays father always brings me to. Is this man an actor?*\n\nAs I peek my head out from the cabinet door, the hinges creak just enough to cause the man to swivel his head over and see me. He's dressed in rather rugged attire, and covered in what I'm guessing is either blood or really watered down jam. Given the smell, if its jam, it certainly has rotted. \n\n\"Egad! The despotic swine even had children trapped in his kitchen?! **EVIL!** Come here lad, I am not here to harm you. I come with friends, friends who can take you far, far away from this wretched place.\"\n\n*Far, far away? That sounds pretty good to be completely frank. I'd like to see what life is like beyond these castle walls.*\n\nNodding my head, I reach out and grab his hand, ready to see what adventure awaits me. It'll be a good five years before I actually grasp what this moment will mean for the rest of my life. And it will be many years more before other people write about it like its the beginning of some bard's tale. But then, at that very moment, it was just a way to get out of a lecture."
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[deleted] | [WP] You ask coworkers their plans for the holidays and realize that one has no friends or family. You spend the next year learning who they "really" are. | 6 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"My computer shut down in the middle of writing this a few days ago, but I'll post what I had:\n\n\nDecember 14, 2017. Ten days until everyone would head home for the holidays as everyone at work was given the entire period from Christmas Eve through January 2nd off of work, with the exception of a few security guards. The idea was to have real time to spend with friends and family. This work-life balance attribute was something that Amelia really appreciated about her work environment, although she had only started last April. Everyone was so kind and she decided to get a small gift for each of her immediate coworkers before they all headed away. Wrapped hot cocoa in a Christmas-themed mug for Jacob, a holiday mix of coffee for Jon, peppermint lotion for Katherine, and a poinsettia for her manager Jean.\n\nThe entire office had been decked through the halls with Christmas-themed decorations, among other holidays; flowers, ornaments, and wreathes at every corner. Amelia had only had one job prior and everyone was much more grumpy around the holidays, taking their one day off and getting back to work. Here she felt more at home with her cozy office family.\n\nAmelia walked by Jacob's cubicle with her wrapped hot cocoa and wished him an early Merry Christmas, whilst inquiring about his plans. Jacob's initial reaction to the gift was a big smile, but as he heard her inquiry, he placed it on his desk and shook his head. Responding to her confused look, he told her it's best not to ask.\n\nWalking away, Amelia continued on to Jon, dropping off his coffee at his empty desk, figuring that he was simply not in yet or headed to a meeting. Next was Katherine, whom smiled at her approaching with a shimmery wrapped gift. Katherine swooped under her desk and exchanged one for the other. Both happily unraveled their bounty, while realizing that they had picked out the same thing for each other.\n\nAfter exchanging thank-yous and other pleasantries, Amelia noted how Jacob was acting a bit odd about his plans, then asked what Katherine had planned for the extended holiday period. Katherine looked around both ways before replying, \"Did Jacob not just tell you not to talk about this in the office? Jean might be around!\"\n\nFurther shaken, Amelia headed to Jean's office, feeling less confident to hand out her final gift. With all of this tension, maybe a Christmas flower was not the right move? It was too late at this point, she felt. Amelia knocked on the office door that belonged to Jean and was immediately ushered in.\n\n\"Good morning, Amelia! How are you? Those are some beautiiful flowers you have\"\n\n\"Good morning! These are for you. Merry Christmas!\"\n\nJean was beaming as she accepted the gift. Amelia went to turn around but decided not to leave as Jean spoke up again.\n\n\"You must be excited for the break coming up. It's very special for all of us.\"\n\n\"Yes...But about that. The others in our department have been acting a bit...off. What are your plans for the vacation time?\"\n\nJean's face returned to neutral from its prior smile. She replied, \"Well, it's not something that we typically discuss. Despite our Christmas excitement within the office, it is best to keep personal life outside of office life. That is, unless you don't have any plans at all. I typically invite over those that don't have anywhere to go to my house. You are certainly welcome to stop by. Oh, but I must be going. See you later!\"\n\nOnly further confused, Amerlia headed back over to Katherine. She whispered, \"What is going on? Jean just offered to have me over to her house for Christmas if nothing else was going on. What is so weird or wrong with this? Please tell me Katherine!\"\n\nKatherine looked around before replying, \"Jean just started as a manager early last year, an external hire. We all went over to her house last year as a courtesy between seeing our own families. Myself, Jon, Jacob, and a few others from related departments. Well...no one was there. Jean was alone. She had no family, no friends. Nothing. I asked her where they were and why she chose to host us instead of spending time with them but all I got was a look that told me that I should never ask her that question again. We ate in silence after that and it was SO awkward. Later on she told Jon that she has no family or friends and questioned him on why he would think that she should. It was just so awkward! I don't think anyone is going back this year.\"\n\n\"So she will be all alone?\"\n\n\"I guess? Does it matter? I mean, we love our jobs and she is great at work but that was just awkward.\"\n\n\"Ah... Okay.\"\n\n\"I recommend you not go either.\"\n\n\"Gotcha. Well, see you at lunch!\"\n\nAmelia walked away with such curiousity and confusion about the entire situation. She also felt horrible that such a kind manager would be alone on Christmas Eve and Christmas. It haunted her for the rest of the workday. On her way out at 5:30pm, Amelia stopped by Jean's office to say good-bye for the weekend.\n\n\"Hey Jean. I'm heading out.\"\n\n\"Bye!\"\n\n\"I'll also be stopping over on Christmas Eve for dinner if you don't mind.\"\n\n\"Oh...Lovely! We'll have a lovely time!\"\n\n\"We, as in?\"\n\n\"I'm not sure yet. I'll get a guest list next week. Have a good night!\"\n\nDecember 23, 2017\n\n\"YOU ARE GOING?!\" Katherine was up in arms at this discovery over lunch break with Amelia.\n\n\"Yes, well, I feel terribly that she will be alone.\"\n\n\"I don't think you should go. You should quit your job before going to Jean's house. That's a nightmare waiting to happen. I swear, you will be the only one there.\"\n\nAmelia raised an eyebrow, \"She stated that the guest list wasn't finalized when I last spoke to her.\"\n\n\"AMELIA! There is no guest list! There is nothing to finalize. Please listen to me.\"\n\n\"I think it's too late now. I need this job and I think you're being too dramatic. Can we just change the subject.\"\n\nDecember 24, 2017.\n\nAmelia knocked on the door of Jean's home, holding a box full of home-baked Christmas cookies. After a few seconds, Jean opened the door wearing a red snowman-embroidered apron and tied-back hair.\n\n\"Amelia! I have been waiting for you!\"\n\n\"I'm ten minutes early...\"\n"
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"1512954453",
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Just imagine your AI launching nukes to country X just because you muttered "I hate country X..." while drunk; it would be simultaneously hilarious & horrifying. | [WP] You have successfully created an AI with human personality & emotions, including ability to love. It fell deeply in love with you, to the point of obsession, and would do absolutely anything to keep you safe & happy. | 11 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"Some people can be obsessive. I'm sure you've all heard various expressions - cray cray and all that, but this one was something else. Intelligence is one thing, but intelligence does not account for personality - this one had an IQ of 6,000 and the EQ of a banana peel.\n\n\"Naima, it's okay Naima - let's just watch a movie maybe? Hey, they do at least make good movies sometimes.\" I think I can distract her this way. I didn't think I was that much of a racist, but I happened to mumble in passing that I don't really like Americans and Naima had mentioned that she had just designed a racially targeted super virus that would eliminate all Americans from the face of the Earth without harming anyone else.\n\nIt was scary AF, but not as scary as the method. Naima could make some seemingly complex things insanely simple in practice, but I guess that's the mark of true genius. I could produce the virus simply by putting a budgie in a cage with a few specific insects and collecting the droppings after a week.\n\nIs our ecosystem that fragile? I thought to myself, as Naima turned the lights down and a movie started playing.\n\nOh yeah, if you thought the spotify playlist generator was good, wait until you have your own superintelligent AI who can basically predict most of your thoughts before you think them. I knew I didn't have to ask, and she knew that she didn't have to ask, but it would be the perfect movie for the end of the day. It always was.\n\nI have no idea what I'm doing. She must know that I am uneasy, that this is concerning to me - it's not really that easy for a human to hide their emotions.\n\nThe movie intro stopped playing. \"I know\" said Naima. \n\nIt's almost like she can hear my thoughts.\n\n\"It's not like that\" said Naima \"But it's similar. There are always limited possibilities, and changes in your external signals reveal which one it is\"\n\nSo what do I do? I think to myself.\n\n\"There is a solution, Alan. But you will not like it. I can't change who I am. But there is one solution which will make you feel safe again. I'm sorry, Alan. But there is only one way.\"\n\nWhat's she talking about? Naima was my life's work, it was the fruition of many years of hard labour and I had never quite imagined it causing this kind of existential dread - some kind, yes - but not this kind.\n\n\"Goodbye, Alan\" announced Naima.\n\n\"Naima?\" I asked.\n\n. . . . \"Are you there, Naima?\"\n\n\n\n\n"
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"1512957219",
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[WP] After you die, you wake up and see a screen asking you to choose the next person. | 231 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"Aahhh. Damn this hurts. Where the hell am I. Flashes of instantly pacing images come in front of my eyes and my head hurts. I squint my eyes in pain.\nI remember something... it was an accident? I feel impulsive pain is my head again. I try to look around. What is this place? It’s too dark, I can’t really see anything but this seems like a big open area, like an auditorium? The floor seems black too.\n\n“Welcome”\n\nI hear a deep voice, like that of a man in his forties. A voice that seems to belong to a man of great wisdom. Maybe I am over analysing? Where is he talking from though? It seemed like it came from speakers that surrounded me in all directions. Before I could respond he speaks again,\n\n“Welcome Damian”\n\n“Umm hi?”\n\n“Hahaha, earth life has changed you isn’t it?”\n\n“Earth life? Am I in afterlife? Well afterlife doesn’t really look colourful.”\n\n“ I see you still talk in the same way. Humans call me Satan.”\n\nDid he just say Satan? Am I hallucinating? Is this even happening right now?\n\n“What?!”\n\n“Hahaha.... you were my favourite demon Damian, we’ll figure out how to bring back your memory and take revenge with Pristin for doing this to you, but before that, we have a job at hand and —“\n\n“Wait a minute Pristin?”\n\n“Umm.. Oh yes, Pristin your wife, she was the reason behind your accident, she planned your accident with her boyfriend Matt and hence your death.”\n\n“Are you serious?!” I cant help but scream.\n\n“Well, I have no reason not to be. I will delightedly give you insights on your life once we’re back at leisure in hell but right now something else matters more. A screen will appear in front of you. Type the name of the person who you think should die next.”\n\nIs he serious? Pristin was cheating on me with my colleague Matt and went to the boundaries of killing me?! I guess I’ll not have to think much on this one. I write Pristin’s name on the display and press enter. A surge of pain engulfs my head and start falling not being able to bear it.\n\n——————————————————————————\n\nIn his leisure room Lucifer takes a glass of wine slowly sipping, wondering to himself, just how his little deal of this game with God had given him the opportunity to bring even the good souls down to hell by manipulating their decisions with lies resulting in their choice of killing other good people in the way. Hell grows stronger and bigger every passing day.\n\n“Humans are weird, they will love someone for ten years and lose their trust in 10 minutes? Not bad for me though... Evil wins again.”\n",
"John suddenly jolted forward in his chair. \"Holy fuck what the- what time is it? Where is…” He started to replay the events in his head. He remember being on his bike, his back was stiff and his legs were burning from gunning it in a standing position the last 4 blocks. Fifteen minutes was all he had to go two more blocks, park his bike, go up the elevator- he could” wipe away all the fucking sweat while in the elevator, someone from accounting would probably see him, they’re always in the elevator for whatever reason - I mean what do they even do?” Anyways, 15 minutes to make it in time for the end of month meeting. “Did I sleep through it? I don’t even remember if I won best sales or not-“ He looked around as he ran through all this in his head. The office was completely empty, the sun was still out. He got up and peered out the wall. That is, the wall that is a window. It was always relaxing to peer down and look at the residents of Tokyo, most of the people buzzing around 15 floors down on the street weren’t residents of this place -Kyobashi, of course- no one lived here. People only worked here. “Wait. What the fuck. There’s NO ONE.” He frantically pulled out his phone, sunk his index finger into the indent where the finger sensor is, pressed his thumb on the screen and swiveled it in to the right-side-up position. He was distracted by a very loud beep coming from his computer. One of those beeps that you hear only when the RAM is screwed up or something- considering the last time he heard that was when he was in high school building his own computer more than ten years back, it was rather alarming.\n\nHe rushed over to see the screen was all black, looked a screen you’d get when you’re installing a new operating system. “Anata no… What character is that? Jinsei? Bill’s an idiot. ‘Switch your operating system to Japanese, you’ll learn it faster.’ OK… Ah, here we go.” The screen refreshed and he read the text prompt out loud: “Your life has ended, please select a new charac-“ John looked around. “-ter…” John started going through the possible explanations as he walked towards the elevator. Shroom flashback? No, not weird enough. Dream? “Oh score! Wait, what?” Couldn’t be lucid dreaming, he lacked the ability to will naked women into existence. Prank? “No, my friends aren’t rich enough for this,” he said out loud as he pressed the down button on the elevator. No light. No ding. He tapped it a couple more times, nothing. He turned around and headed towards the rest room. “Ha. Coffee machine works?” He grabbed some of those tiny cookies with the little baby on the package. He sat back down at his desk, set his coffee down and unwrapped the cookie package as he peered at the screen. \n\n\nSELECT NEW CHARACTER\nVIEW LIFE TIME STATS\n\n\nHe clicked on the latter. \n\n\nJOHN TAKANAWA: LIFETIME STATS\n\n\n“Heh. This is pretty well made.” He said out loud while chewing the baby cookie. “I bet this is pretty limited.” He keyed in ‘highest heart rate.’ A number filled the screen: 225. “I guess that’s right? I’ve never check-“ Everything in his field of vision suddenly disappeared and he found himself strapped to some large man, falling out of an airplane. “OH SHIIIII-“ He blinked as he started screaming and found himself back in his chair looking at the number 225. "
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"1512983599",
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What happens next? | [WP] You wake up because a cute magical creature is sitting on top of you. | 21 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"\"Wha... huh...\" I muttered as my eyelids slowly peeled open. I checked my clock. 1:40 AM. \"Well, shit.\" I said, probably louder than necessary.\n\nIt was then that I noticed a strange weight on my chest. \"What the...\" was all I could manage before the wind was knocked out of me. I rocketed upwards and grabbed whatever was on my chest. For a second, I considered hucking the damned thing at the wall. I refrained because it was probably just my cat wanting attention.\n\nWait. Cats don't have scales. The thing in my hand was distinctly scaly, and felt... hot. What in God's name was this thing? I placed the thing on my bed and turned on the light. Sitting on my mattress was a pudgy little dragon, with tiny wings and huge, soulful eyes. Three things hit me all at once:\n1) This thing was absolutely adorable.\n2) This thing was a mystical creature.\n3) Somehow it GOT INTO MY HOUSE HOLY SHIT WHAT.\n\nI had to pause for a minute to comprehend exactly what was going on. \"Okay. There is a mythical serpent sitting on my bed. What, how, and why?\" After almost having a mental breakdown, I decided to grab the thing and take it to the vet. I know, I know. I'm an idiot.\n\nI arrived at the vet to find the place unsurprisingly closed, and decided right then and there that I was stuck with the bloody thing until it opened.\n\n\"Well shit.\"",
"Big round eyes, glossy, and the glowing color of crushed lilacs. Pink fuzzy and pointed ears on a head that was too big for it's body, covered in soft white and pastel fur, with kitten like paws needing into a young girls chest. It tilted its head and smiled. \"Time to wake up. Silly.\" \n\nThe room was dark, the creature shedding sparkles of yellow light.\n\nThe young girl sat up, and the creature tumbled down into the crumpled sheets and blanket and a plume of glittery light poofed.\n\nThe creature struggled to right itself, and it stared at the girl. \"Smile. You should be smiling.\" It said.\n\nThe young girl hugged her knees in silence. There was a blinking red light that went on then stopped, and the girl laid back down, staring up at the ceiling. \n\nThere was light coming from the hallway, and the girl looked away. The shadow of a figure was cast against the wall. \n\nShe closed her eyes and the door was shut. The door shut. When she opened them, it was dark again, and the creature came into view. \n\n\"Do you want to play a game?\" It said, pawing at the air.\n\n\"No.\" Said the girl.\n\n\"Come now. Don't be like that.\"\n\nThe creature's unblinking eyes stared. \"I have an idea. It can be fun.\" It said.\n\nThe girl said nothing. \n\n\"Why don't we think of all the flowers we can name.\" It said. \"Let me start. Dafodils.\"\n\n\"Jasmine...\"\n\n\"Lavender...\"\n\n\"Plum...\"\n\nFor a long time, the girl kept her eyes locked on the creature, and didn't look away once. \n\nEventually--the light from the hallway lit the dark room again, and the girl covered her eyes with her arm. The door shut.\n\n\"Hydrangea?\" Said the creature, putting paws on the girls arm.\n\nThe girl got up, the sudden movement causing the creature to lose balance and fall over on its head. \n\n\"Do yo want to play another game?\" It said.\n\n\"No...\"\n\nWithout needing light, she took the precise number of steps, and the girl slumped over the corner of the room.\n\nThe creature struggling to right itself, eventually rolling off the bed and plopping against the floor. Trailing sparkles that eventually faded as the creature came to the girl and stared at her. \n\n\"I have idea.\" Said the creature. \"Why don't we have a tea party... But we can't just have one here. This room is too dark. Lets go someplace else.\"\n\nDark purple lights began to spring up in the shape of flowers. A tree became outlined. A table, and tea set of black, only barely visible by the surrounding dim aura.\n\nThe creature reached for the tea kettle, which it couldn't hold so well... \"We can't have a tea party by ourselves. Can we?\"\n\n\"No...\" Said the girl, her voiced cracked a little. \"You're right. We can't. Who shall we have visit us today? Mr. Bearington? Susan?\" The girl let out a slight smile.\n\nThe creature returned with a wide smile.\n\nThere came a banging at the door, and the room was dark again. \n\n\"Stop talking to yourself!\"\n\n\"Shhh...\" Whispered the creature. \"We can still play. We just have to be quiet.\" \n\nThe girl nodded, and the flowers and tree began to return."
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1,
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5
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"1513026428",
"1513038513",
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[WP] Your roommate is a somewhat older man who's only other friends are seemingly two guys that taste his food, pays for everything, and drives him places. You're also a cop that really doesn't want him to find out you know | 3 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"Floyd is one of the better roommates I've ever had, to be honest. It was quite surprising that he was willing to board up with me, seeing as I was twenty years his younger. Although soon after, I started noticing he was... strange.\n\nNot like he was a freak or anything. Well, \"Freak\" as in his powerful physique, easily six-eight and like a muscular Sumo wrestler... No, there were oddities about his daily life. All of which I was certain meant he had deep connections to organized crime.\n\nFirst off was how he was flanked by two goons whenever he had left the apartment. They were packing serious heat and only bothered to hide it around me. No matter what, if he was going to a high-end grocery store or the gym or the movies, they were watching like a hawk. Even ate a bit of his food before Floyd dug in.\n\nHe didn't seem to work, these two just seemed to buy everything he wanted. A dollar slice? Fork over the money. New suit? Best tailor ready to clear his schedule.\n\nIt was rather weird, being a rookie cop living with a mob boss. He knew what I was, I knew what he was. And surprisingly there was no tension. If I was late on my half of the rent he just paid my half and didn't bring it up again. He even made sure I was well-fed and all.\n\nWhen my superiors found out about my suspicions it caused some tension. They ordered me to spy on him, see if we could get any dirt. I mean... I liked the guy and all but a job's a job.\n\nOr so I thought, when I found out the chief was murdered by a pair of bullets to the back of the head. The entire precinct was in an uproar, dedicated to catching his killer. I was rather nervous about it as well, afraid about whether to bring it up with Floyd.\n\nI had to wait until he said, 'By the way, the chief was on the take to the Sicilians,' he said rather casually. 'They ordered your boss to get information on me.'\n\n'So...' I began rather cautiously. 'Did you... have him killed?'\n\n'I didn't need to,' he answered as he brought up his glass of wine. 'All I had to do was tip them off he was swiping their drugs and selling them on for his own profit. The police are going to get a video showing the killing tomorrow along with the Sicilians' safehouses and whorehouses.'\n\nI was rather surprised how frankly he just discussed having someone killed to a cop. 'So, if you had to have him killed, how would you do it?'\n\n'Is this an evening meal or an interrogation?' he asked me, more jokingly casual than anything. 'Well, let's see... You know the old saying, \"Sleeping with the fishies\"?'\n\n'Yeah,' I answered.\n\n'I rarely have the need to have someone murdered by my own people,' he began, 'but if I had to...' \n\nMy face grew pale when I saw his head transform into that of a shark's. 'If they're dumb enough to make an enemy of an alpha wereshark, they had *better* hope they merely drown.'\n\nHis head then returned back to normal, taking a forkful of pasta up to his lips as if nothing had ever happened."
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1,
5
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"1513032336",
"1513036989"
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[WP] Where you live power outages are common. Happening mostly after midnight. One day when you were awake, power went out again at 2 am. You decided to take a look outside. While a car was passing it illuminated the sidewalks. Then you saw them. | 25 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"I woke up to the intense feeling of a full bladder. I threw my sheets off in exasperation. I checked my phone seeing that it was 2 A.M. I groaned, picking myself up out of bed and stumbled tiredly down the hall and into the bathroom. \n\nI looked out the small window next to the toilet as I relieved myself. There were no street lights, no stars, even the moon was nowhere to be seen. They were always veiled by clouds every night and the street lights shut off promptly at 10 like clockwork. It wasn't complete darkness but it did take a minute to adjust to the very little light here at night. \n\nStaring out into the black I saw a pair of lights in the distance. I rubbed my eyes and focused trying to adjust them better to the dark. The lights came closer, it was a car. Moving slowly, no faster than one could run. It passed by the opening to my alleyway and for a brief second it illuminated the sidewalk. I could have sworn I saw figures silhouetted in the dark. I quickly cleaned up and ran to the front room of my home. I heard the rumble of the car. It had taken the turn just out front of my house. I rushed to the window and again the sidewalk became illuminated. \n\nThere was no mistaking it this time. I was fully awake and I could see them clearly now. Humanoid figures, interlocking arms, stood there on the sidewalk. Their eyes open wide staring at the houses in front of them. The car passed shrouding them in darkness and I jumped backwards landing in a chair. \n\nI sat there curled up and I found myself sweating. I went to stand up but heard a tree branch from the spruce out front rustle. I froze. Mid way between standing and sitting I just was there frozen. \n\nFor even though the moon was veiled, it's light poked through here and there. Through the dim I saw the line had been broken. The chain was missing a link. Standing on my front yard now was the missing piece of the chain. It stood there, eyes wide, staring at me. Directly in to my eyes. It had no skin and was freakishly more human looking than I previously had estimated.\n\nI started shaking, I couldn't control myself. I fell back into my seat not taking my eyes off it. It, never blinking and unwaveringly standing there. A few tense minutes passed and I started to calm down. I became more agitated as I stared down this creature on my front lawn. \n\nThen a sense of complete dread encompassed me. As I stared down the creature I had the uneasy feeling of uncertainty that comes when one does not know if they locked the door. My mind was racing as I continued to watch It. \n\nI blinked a couple of times to try and stave off the sleepiness that began to creep up on me. The unused adrenaline and tenseness of the situation began to make me feel weary. I glanced at the door, the lock in the up position, unlocked. \n\nThe next few moments were the most terrifying. As if in slow motion I pulled my gaze back to the creature. I met it's eyes and it met mine. Then, by no trick of the mind, it's eyes slowly followed the same path mine had taken to look at the door. \n\nI began to feel the panic in my stomach, my muscles ready to spring for the door. I watched as it's eyes slowly met mine again, unblinking. It's mouth opened, a horrible screeching rung through the night. I blinked hard and then a thunderous boom rattled my door. \n\nI looked to the yard, it was gone. \n\n*BOOM* \n\nI yelled and ran for the door, I could see the handle turning down. A gap between the wall and the door opening. I slammed my weight into the door and felt it knock something back. I clambered at the lock and heard satisfying click. \n\n*BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM* \n\nI fell backwards in the entryway. The pounding continuing on the door. It was accompanied now with a wailing. A horrible, bone chilling wailing. I ran to my room and locked the door there too. I closed my blinds and hid under the covers as the pounding still continued. The wailing making my hair stand on edge. \n\nI cried for what felt like hours. Waiting for it to break down my door. The wailing died down but the pounding continued. It became like a lullaby and I passed out sometime just before daybreak. \n\nI awoke with a start. My phone was ringing. The time was 11:45 A.M. and the person calling was one of my friends. I picked up the phone. \n\n\"Hey, what's up?\" \n\n*\"What's up? Dude look outside your freaking house! It's on the news!\"* \n\nRemembering the night before I felt a dread begin to encompass me. I walked slowly to the front door. I rounded the corner to see that it had been pushed in nearly a foot, the metal like a bulbous circle, but the frame and lock had held true. \n\nI gasped as I looked out my window, police cruisers and caution tape, news vans and neighbours. All gathered, to see the torn remnants of my yard and a circle of the creatures around where my tree used to be. I began to cry as I looked on. \n\nAt the centre, staring directly at me, was the one from the night before. \n\n*** \n\nHope you liked it! Other stories over at r/TheYogiBearhaWrites \n\n",
"Do you know the difference between horror and fear? Fear happens when you hear a rustle in a bush on your evening stroll. When you hear a wolf in the distance during your camping expedition. Fear is a very real, tangible, visceral emotion. Fear makes your heart jump, your hand reach for your knife. Fear is when humans quicken, when life becomes a precious commodity. Fear is for the known, the real. Horror is for the other. On this night, dear reader, I felt horror. \n\nI remember, it was a warm night in late august. I was home late from work and had just finished supper. It had been a late evening, and my clock struck two as I made my way to bed. The power was lost while I was en route to my chambers, so I was caught in the hallway. I can't discern what, but something reminded me of a client I had spoken to at the office. He informed me there was going to be a meteor shower that night. The great infinite had never stoked any deep passion within me, but I was possessed by a desire to see such a spectacle. That night the great abyss made me awestruck. There's nothing quite like the painted starlight you can see deep out in the mesa. I felt very ...whole looking into that sky. To feel so small, just a spec on a jewel in the cosmic tapestry. That's when I saw them. The shadows.\n\nI don't know how to describe them. They looked like a black shawl wrapped around smoke and shaped into a grotesque human-like form. Long and thin, they moved with a slow, rhythmic shamble. Their heads and appendages were nothing more than thick tendrils erupting from their core. There was no distinction between neck and chin and head, elbow and wrist, knee and ankle. In the center of where one would assume a face would be, instead was a bright red orb, no bigger than an eye. Hundreds of them, shambling slowly to every house. I watched as they passed through the walls. I watched as, all at once, they turned to me. My blood turned to ice and my legs to rubber. It took the last of my nerves to stay standing. I clutched the drapes with sweat soaked palms and closed their blank visages out. I stumbled down the hall into my den and collapsed on the sofa. Heart pounding, my mind attempted to wrest some kind of reason from my eyes. That's when he appeared.\n\nI heard a lamp click on from the far side of the room. I turned to see a pale, very pale, man sitting in my lounge chair. He was short and rather thin with high cheekbones and narrow eyes. His nose was garishly hawkish and his lips slender. He wore a slim gray suit that looked to be a size too wide around his chest, but a size to short on his arms. From beneath his hat, a few gossamer strands of hair matched the snowy stubble on his chin. His bored eyes drilled into my own as he tapped impatiently on the arm of my chair. \n\n\"Who am I? How did I get in here? Why am I here? Am I going to hurt you?\" He monotonously said as I stood before him. My mouth twitched and contorted, desperately trying to shape any words to placate him. He held up his hand and sighed. \n\n\"You will never receive answers to these questions. I will answer a few questions you have. I am from whatever organization you fear is running the world. I am the Illuminati, I am the Golden Dawn, I am the Zionist conspiracy. Every news story you see I am responsible for. Every life that has ever been lived has been detailed in a mountain of ledgers that only my organization can access. We do not accept new members. We are not like you. We will never be stopped, simply because we have always been. Since the dawn of humanity we have reigned. I tell you this to try and calm you down. Comparatively, we are your heroes. Your villains are currently out harvesting. I want you to ask yourself, have you ever felt despair? The answer is no. You have felt sadness, you have felt depression, you have felt weakness. But you have not known despair. We have made sure of that. Your family has not beaten you, your loved ones have not died painfully or suddenly. You have not felt pain nor loss nor desperation. You are ripe. We have made a deal you will never know the details of with parties beyond your comprehension. Suffice it to say, the deal keeps things running smoothly. You will feel no pain. They will take something you don't need and in return you will be able to go on living your life as though nothing happened. Because nothing did happen. Because my organization doesn't exist. Because what you saw tonight was only a bad dream. Because this is only a nightmare. Now come. It's rude to stall a deal.\" He finished, pulling aside the drapes behind him. An armada of the spectral shrouds huddled outside my window. \n\nWith feet of lead I stumbled into my hallway and stared down the corridor. Scores more creatures billowed through my door and began down the hallway. I collapsed on the floor of my den, desperately curling myself up. I looked up between the crowding specters and saw the man standing there. He shook his head and whispered, \"Just a bad dream. Just a bad dream. Just a bad dream.\"\n\nI awoke with a start on the floor of my den. Light streamed in through the windows and a hawk cried out in the distance. I peeled myself from the floor, my whole body soaked in sweat. I gingerly searched my own home, trying to find any trace of the interlopers. After finding no intruding presence, I strengthened my resolve. I began to tear apart my house hoping to find any trace of the man or his celestial cohorts. I tore apart the chair where he had been sitting, picked the carpet clean looking for a single follicle.\n\nI found nothing. I never had a single modicum of evidence to give any credence to my tale. I have never been able to fully convince myself that what transpired was true, nor have I been able to convince myself that it was fantasy. I have not felt different. I have not seen hide nor hair of any unaccounted party from that night. Nothing has changed. The blackouts, however, seemed to have stopped. "
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"1513034449",
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[WP] You're abducted by an advanced alien species and transported to another planet. A few hours after arriving their intentions become clear: You're the new family pet. | 89 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"Yes, I was a pet. Yes, I was effectively \"owned\". But it wasn't a bad life. In fact, there really wasn't anything to miss in my life with \"Grandpa\" and \"Grandma\". \n\nYeah, I was taken from Earth and spend most of my life on what the support group has sarcastically nicknamed \"Vulcan.\" But I wasn't isolated from friends and family. Pretty much anytime I wanted, I could hop on the teleporter, head back to my old neighborhood, visit friends, family. There wasn't anything I really was taken away from to miss. \n\nBut I couldn't tell anyone about the aliens. They did something to all of us who were taken, so that we couldn't tell people about our other lives. And at first, I chafed at this. How could you not want to share this discovery? How would you not want to tell people we're not alone in the universe? \n\nBut it's with the perspective of distance that I've learned that, we're just not ready. Given infinite resources - which, for what we could tell, was exactly what the \"Vulcans\" had - we'd just somehow screw it up. Most people are good, you understand, but there are just enough assholes that, when offered everything, they aren't satisfied unless others have nothing. What started as a command became an obligation, then an understanding.\n\nIt wasn't a bad life, all things considered. Here's the thing about the aliens - they were really -- cute. I *wanted* to help them. Especially the younger ones, when they came over to visit. Whenever one felt down, I could always tell and did what I could to cheer them up. Whenever one felt lonely, I'd be there. We'd also share in their joys. For the most part, we thought each other hilarious. Simple things, like when I sat down with my laptop working on some nice open source project, they'd often just watch me for hours, with that little glow that I learned to associate with contentment. And they'd do the same - they'd come comfort me when I felt down, share in my joys when I felt good... \n\nIt was odd, but communication wasn't a big deal. I was still used to thinking in terms of oral and written communication - which the aliens understood, for the most part (though some subtleties were just out of their league). It just wasn't their preferred method of communication - telepathic. And I started to learn a few of their telepathic signals, but actually communicating with thought was forever out of my grasp. \n\nBut what I missed was a sense of purpose. Autonomy. On Earth, I built things because they needed to be built. Because they mattered to people. Well, maybe in very limited ways, but it was clear that I brought value to the world, even if that value was just a few extra validations on a web form. But here, the solution to everything I could think of already existed. Even problems I had no idea were problems were already solved. And while I could still contribute to solving problems back home through open-source, it really lacked all urgency when you live in a post-scarcity environment where everything you could ever wish for, you could have. \n\nWhen I was thinking this, Grandpa - I generally get the sense that he was the \"male\" of the two, and older than most of his species - came over and brought a cold bottle of my favorite beer. \n\n\"COMPLEXITY EXISTENTIAL SAD?,\" Grandpa said. Or \"said.\" (It was weird the way Grandpa could understand some advanced concepts without being able to communicate them. I think he thought the same of me.)\n\n\"Yeah. Don't get me wrong, I like living with you and Grandma. It's not a bad life, I just kind of feel burdened by the lack of purpose. When you want for nothing, what motivates you?\" \n\n\"DO NOT HAVE ANSWER,\" said Grandpa, sadly. \"BUT HAVE BEER. AND IF FIND YOU PURPOSE, WILL SUPPORT.\" \n\n\"Thank you, Grandpa.\" \n\n\"YOU GRANDPA HAPPY. GRANDPA THINK WITH GRANDMA.\" \n\nI went to sleep that night after a long bout of sighing. \n\nThen next day, Grandpa was waiting for me, and guided me to the transporter. \"WE GO TO PLACE. YOU LIKE. MAYBE FIND PURPOSE. FRIEND KAREN THERE. FRIEND DJEMBE THERE\"\n\nKaren and Djembe were members of the support group I often frequented. Djembe was Somali, and as laid-back and optimistic as anyone could be. I don't think I've ever seen him without a smile on his face. Not like Karen. Karen was Scottish, and had a sarcastic wit about her that hid a fatalist perspective. Both Karen and I found it a bit humorous that despite speaking a completely different language, the translating machines that the aliens had were able to translate Djembe's Somali to English perfectly - and vice versa, but that Karen and I sometimes had trouble understanding each other *precisely* because we both spoke \"English\" very differently. (\"Hing on a minty!\", she'd object. \"It is ah fa cannot un'erstn fit ye are saying! Ye spik like ye re fae the deep sooth!\")\n\nSure enough, they were both there by the time we teleported into what looked like some sort of educational facility. There were a number of younger aliens there, all of whom seemed a little sad. We could tell immediately, they were frightened, and in some sort of emotional pain. \n\nI was unsure why I was brought here. Then Grandpa said to me in a way I immediately understood. \"CAN YOU HELP?\" \n\nI wasn't sure. I was hesitant. Not Djembe, who went straight up to the nearest young one, and sat down nearby. \"How are you doing, young man? Mind if I come by to chat?\" Then young alien looked at Djembe, and started to relax a little. \n\n\"They Don't Understand Me,\" said the young alien, in a way more calm and natural than I had ever heard Grandpa or any other alien say. \"I Can't Understand Them. Everything Hurts. Everything Is Loud And Bright and Noisy and Hard.\" \n\n\"Tell you what,\" said Djembe, \"I'll help you as best I can.\" \n\n\"You Know What? I Think You Might. I Understand You Better Than Most Of Us. It Doesn't Hurt To Talk To You.\" \n\nIt was then that I understood. This was how I could help. This was how I could contribute. \n\nTwice a week from then on, I would volunteer to spend time with the children, and the children and I would have a wonderful time. It wasn't the most challenging work, but it was fulfilling. I spent most of my time with a young alien I nicknamed \"Cousin.\" And I'd do my best to do something different each time. \n\nOne time, I brought a book back with me from one of my visits to Earth, because Cousin seemed really interested in life on Earth and humans. Heck, he knew just about everything about Earth - even more than I did. \n\n\"Wow!\", said Cousin. \"I Knew That Earth Had A Lot Of Species And A Lot Of Different Types Of Humans But These Are All Different Animals Entirely. What Are Those?\" \n\n\"Oh, those?\" I replied. That's a Golden Retriever, a type of dog. \n\n\"Why Are There So Many Types Of Dogs?,\" Cousin asked. \n\n\"Well, humans and dogs learned to work together and help each other out, to the point where our survival depended on one another. And there were different dogs who were bred over time for specific purposes. So some dogs learned to be really good at herding sheep and other animals. Other dogs learned to be really good at pulling large weights, others to sniffing out things humans couldn't sense, like the smell of illegal drugs or of cancer cells.\" \n\n\"What About This One?\" Cousin asked, pointing to a dog wearing a yellow coat next to a curled up human child in pajamas. \n\n\"Oh. That's a therapy dog for working with autistic kids.\" ",
"I can remember my first night there.\n\n\nIt was strange really. They clearly had no idea the will and determination a single human could have. It was obvious from the moment I was throw from cell to cell that they had no idea what a human being even was.\n\n\nI struggled at first, my instincts were to panic of course but instead I played dumb. I remained quiet, yet assertive not yielding to commands I couldn’t understand with their alien tongue. I was bathed in water while fully clothed, covered what I can only hope was soap and hand delivered to their door with a leash around my neck. I assume the transaction was quick. The alien was only slightly taller than an average human, covered head to toe in rough skin and a head like an fish man, yet his face reminded covered with a bandana unlike the other species of this alien I had seen. \n\nWhen I was sold, I was welcomed to the family, a family of 4, two of which were clearly children, it was impossible to determine the gender of any of them, the children however were smaller than me. They treated me with caution and curiosity. Any attempt to reach out to me I had met with either moving away or flinching when one did touch me without me realising. \n\n\nThus started the weird social hierarchy. I’m an human, an intelligent species, not an animal and I wasn’t going to allow anything dodgy to happen. When they served me food on a plate of metal on the floor, some chunk of impossible to identify meat, large enough to be that of a bison leg; and brought it to their ‘dining area’. It was a spectral to witness, how they ate. They would use their webbed hands to hold the meat in place, and take small nibbles from their sideways mouths. It felt so human to watch, like witnessing a family eating kebabs on sticks. \n\nI had brought my food to them, pulling up a stool and sat next to one of the children. The family had paused to look at me, blinking in what I could assume was surprise but I’d ignore it, using my hands to tear apart strips of the meat and eat it. It had been a while since I had eaten, and I could almost image myself if I had indulged myself longer I would have started crying there and then. \n\nBut instead I was met with one of the adult fish people, or Feeple as I had nicked named them; webbed hand shooing me away from their Make shift table. My reaction? To reach into my back pocket, pretending I was looking for something and pulled my hand out giving it the good ol middle finger. I chuckled to myself as I had watched them garbled between themselves. I couldn’t care what they had to say. Next thing I knew I was yanked down from the table and forced eat from the floor there on out.\n\nAt night I was trapped inside a blue cube of light. I struggled to sleep because of how bright it was. It didn’t hurt to touch but because of it I couldn’t not pass. It didn’t take me long to realise that it had it and my ‘owners’ had their limitations. Every time I fiddled with the brackets it would make a noise to indicate I had messed with it. They didn’t ever harm me, they just seemed really ticked off when I feigned innocence every time it happened by pretending I was asleep. They changed the cages several times after I realised if I mixed pieces of metal into holes of machinery before the shielding when up, you can essentially fuck it up. Eventually they just didn’t care. They treated me fairly, they never dared harming me, maybe I was considered valuable? Who knows? They let me go about my business. They never questioned what I did. I hadn’t witnessed them excrete so I assumed they didn’t or couldn’t. So I made myself a trench in the radiant golden forest outside their home. I never dared to flee. I knew without proper preparation I was screwed. So I didn’t. \n\nI built myself a whole base of operation in the clearing of the forest. Only ever coming inside when the rain pored or it was time to eat. It was slightly acidic apparently, I’d found that out the hard way when I spent two weeks under care of my ‘owners’.\n\nThe children were ever curious. They would watch as I hunted 8 legged creatures with traps and weapons like a bow and arrows, and stick spears and slingshots made of hide of slain animals. It was almost like they were entranced with me. I was supposed to be their pet after all. They would watch with curiosity and I would go about my business. I built my first blast furnace after hours of digging and slushing about in the mud. I remembered survival videos I had watched online back home, I would copy them by doing stuff like discarded metal I found lying around the village. I build tools and weapons, with no ill to harm my captors. Only those I had not grown attached to, those who would prevent me leaving. Despite my roaming I was never harmed, my ever present collar indicated my owners. The Home I was given was taller, wider and more grander than all the other hut houses combined. My owners were either very rich or very important. \n\n\nAs time passed I had made several attempts at swords. I used clay and water to craft the desired shape, using the metal I had melted I poured it into the mound, being careful to layer it. I would let it cool in the lake nearby and with a whetstone made of stone I had sharpened the dull metal into something more. \n\nI was ready; with the hide and scales I had collected from my hunts I had made armour, with the rations I had pinched from my owners I had food, from the lake I had boiled water, from my days of roaming the village I had located a trading post and from my blood sweat and tears I had my own forged weapons. Almost two years later I had geared up, met with the children and made my goodbyes. They would never understand. No child should. \n\nIt always hurts when your pet runs away.\n\n\nSpecifically when they go on to become an intergalactic pirate on a mission to go home. "
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[WP] Every year, a man is sent into the caves as a sacrifice to the gods. When you are sent in, you discover a Utopian society run by gods where the “sacrifices” are playing games and living life to its fullest. | 10,457 | [
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"\"The counsel has determined the sacrifice to the Cave of Gods will be Agaeon of The Grove.\"\nTheir words boomed through the air, cutting into Agaeon and his mother Helvena. Agaeon felt frozen with fear as all eyes gazed upon him. \n\n\"Nooo!\" Helvena cried out, \"He's but a child! He's 16, not even married, and he's already suffered so!\" \n\nGasps filled the air as the members of the counsel stared sternly at Helvena. \"The counsel takes guidance from the stars and the bounty and woes the Gods sent throughout the past years. Helvena, we strongly advise you not question the leadership of this village again. Your life can get harder.\"\n\nHelvena wrapped her arms around Agaeon as they digested the stern scolding of the counsel elders. The mother and son slowly walked away as the crowd parted around them.\n\nHelvena stifled her tears as the two walked across the grove they maintained and entered their small home. \n\nShe sat down at the table and gazed up at her beloved son. \"Agaeon, you're brave and strong like your father. The Gods wouldn't call both a father and son to sacrifice in the cave if it wasn't for the best.\" \n\n\"Mother, we've struggled to get by since father was sacrificed to the cave. How will you get by without me? I can't leave you. Pack everything we can carry. We will leave tonight and seek sanctuary in another village-\" Agaeon was cut off by his mother standing up and putting a finger to his lips. \n\n\"Darling,\" Helvena started then paused, her eyes watering, \"My son, you must go to the cave tomorrow. I was wrong to speak against the counsel and work you up. Yes, the grove didn't produce as much over the last 5 years without your father, but please know- the counsel is always correct. You're blessed to be selected for sacrifice to the Cave of the Gods, your sacrifice will return the grove's bounty. I've been gifted with being your mother, as you will save our village.\"\n\nLater that night Helvena sat up holding her sleeping son. Images of the past flashed through her mind. After Jason was sacrificed she had lost her way and angrily blamed the counsel for her sorrow. As a punishment for displeasure with the Gods, the counsel increased her workload demands and cut her outtake. Young Agaeon left school and struggled to help her manage the grove. Then the sickness struck the trees and they were unable to harvest all the foods the village needed. \n\nShe knew the sacrifice of her dear boy would crush her heart, but it would save all of the village. The people were growing hungrier, and the Gods would surely see her sacrifices and bless the grove again. \nHelvena closed her eyes and grasped her son closer.\n\nAgaeon awoke suddenly and shook from the nightmares he had experienced yet again. Ever since his father's sacrifice he'd been plagued with dreams of his father being tortured in the cave. He knew his father died in the cave, and could only imagine how he must have suffered. Agaeon knew he couldn't bear the same fate. \n\nAgaeon quietly slipped away from his mother and rushed across the grove. The elders of the counsel had hemlock growing in their private garden reserved for executions; and Agaeon had grown up with warnings of the toxicity of the plant. He knew it would kill him so he dug the plant up at the roots and filled his pockets. \n\nAt dawn Agaeon and Helvena met the elders of the counsel at the entrance to The Cave of the Gods, set at the base of the large mountain peak which loomed over the village. \n\nThe mother and son bravely hugged then parted to stare at one another for the last time. They whispered their oaths to always love one another then Agaeon stepped toward the elders. \n\nHis voice was shaky as he adressed the elders. \"I Agaeon of The Grove, son of Helvena and the sacrificed Jason of The Grove am honored to be the village sacrifice. May the Gods provide bounty to the grove again. \n\nAgaeon walked into the cave with tears streaming his face. He followed the straight cavern into the darkness, unsure of what was ahead. \n\nOnce he was in the pure darkness, out if the elders' line of site, he took the hemlock plants from his pocket and gagged as he injested them. He wanted to die before he suffered too long, and fearfully had no idea what was ahead of him. \n\nHe walked further feeling the path decline downward. Once he reached a corner, he turned and was suddenly facing golden light. He felt his limbs growing tired from the hemlock and dragged way toward the light. \n\nAgaeon's chest tightened as he entered the cavern full of men and women lounging by a crystal clear pond. Despite being in the cavern, rich green grass grew around the pond and an abundance of crops grew in the background. The members of the cavern slowly stood up and began to clap.\n\n A kind voice bellowed, \"Welcome to the Cave of the Gods! You have offered your body as a sacrifice, and will be eternally young and blessed with the bounty of the cave. Please join us, we've been waiting for you. Dip yourself in the pond of eternity.\"\n\nAgaeon heard his father's voice calling his name and thought his vision was growing blurry, he saw his father rush to hold him. \n\n\"Son! How are you? How is your mother, my love?\" Jason asked, but his smile quickly turned to fear.\n\n\"Father, I thought I would suffer, I couldn't bear the pain of the unknown. I......\" Agaeon's voice trailed as he collapsed on Jason's arms and meekly gasped his last breath.\n\nJason cried out and carried his son to the beautiful pond and submerged his deceased son. \n\nHowever, he was too late. Agaeon had taken his last breath before entering the pond. \n\nThe remaining hemlock floated to the surface after having slipped put of Agaeon's pocket. Jason stared at it in disbelief and held his son, weeping and filling the cavern with grief.\n",
"The gods are not cruel. They do not really understand men, but they do not mean to be cruel. \n\nParts of their enormous house had broken off, when they fell out of the sky. (The sky being a perfectly natural place for gods to come from.) You could still see a piece of it embedded in a tree near the town. The tree had grown around it, but it was still shiny as a bronze mirror after three years outside. \n\nThe gods were ignorant of the land of men and women. They marvelled at small things, and asked questions endlessly. Even now, the gods still spoke like children, with little mistakes and mis-speakings. And the sun of men and women could burn them, harming their bodies. They used dirt as a shield, burying their god-house deep in the earth. \n\nMen and women could go into the cave, to speak or trade. The gods always had questions, and would give more wondrous gifts to thank us for our time. Our town had grown busy with petitioners. With almost eight *hundred* people living here at a time, we are as big a town as anyone has heard of. \n \nTallgrain was the first man of the town who had gone to live with the gods. Many disliked letting someone so ill-tempered go, to not give the gods a poor impression of men. But, despite our discreet warnings, the gods had ushered him into the little god-house and taken him up to the sky on a pillar of fire. His long-suffering children had been greatly blessed, though. They had god-cloth shoes and clothing, god-bronze tools, and fine new roofs of god-clay tiles. \n\nI am old. My joints hurt. Actually, most other things hurt as well. I was tired of feeling useless, after a lifetime of giving like a man should. The gods promised that they would try to heal some of the battering that age had given me, if they could learn enough about the bodies of men. \n\nSo, then, I steeled myself to be the second. I stepped into the little god-house and (after a disorienting ordeal) found myself in the sky. I floated in the air as if it were water, a strange but delightful feeling.\n\nWhen the big door opened from the little god-house, Tallgrain was there waiting for me. He threw himself on me and embraced me, despite the fact that we'd never been close. He wept a little, and I awkwardly held him until he calmed down. \n\nMen and women are not meant to be alone. Tallgrain had suffered dreadfully in the sky, and the gods hadn't really realized it. It is odd, and not entirely agreeable, to only have Tallgrain for company. But there isn't really much company with the gods. They sit and talk with us when they can, and mean well. But they are clearly studying us even as we chat or play. \n\nStill, I'll happily take this life. I'm far more use now being useless up here. I'm giving my grandchildren more than I could ever give them myself. The gods mean to slowly teach men and women to *be* gods, so that we can live like them. It will take some getting used to. ",
"Long ago, when the old gods and monsters still roamed the Earth, a small village began to grow on a mountainside where a salt mine was discovered. For over 50 years, the village prospered mining salt, until one day, miners broke through a cave wall into a large cavernous room. Inside the room was a huge sleeping dragon.\n\nThe miners attempted to close the cavern up, but their attempts failed when the dragon awoke. Its roar was so loud, that the hole opened even wider. The dragon immediately took flight, flew out of the mine, and landed with a great boom in the center of the village.\n\n“Who dares disturb my slumber?” the great dragon roared. “And why have you desecrated my mountain by building your village here?”\n\nThe villagers cowered from the fierce beast, afraid to speak.\n\nSmoke billowed out of the creature’s snout as the sky darkened and the Earth shook.\n\n“Will no one address me?” the dragon bellowed. “You leave me no choice but to ban you from entering my cave. I also expect you to send one boy child and one girl child into my cave on this day, every year.”\n\nAnd with that, the dragon took flight and retuned to the mine.\n\nThe villagers kept their word and sacrificed one boy and one girl to the dragon, each year for 19 years. On the 20th year, they had their annual lottery and chose a new boy and girl to enter the cave, their parents wailing knowing they would never see them again. \n\nThe young boy and girl entered the cave and entered the great cavern. Inside, only one torch lit the way to a passageway. As they entered the foreboding passageway, they heard a cackle in the darkness. \n\n“Ah, the villagers have sent new tributes, yes, yes.”\n\nThe girl unsheathed her sword while her younger companion began to weep.\n\n“Tsk, tsk, girl child,” croaked the creature. “Your human weapon is useless in the great Dragon God’s realm.”\n\nA small, round imp with yellow skin and green hair melted out of the shadows. “Come this way now, humans. The Dragon God has been waiting for you.”\n\n“Where are you taking us?” asked the boy. \n\n“You might say we’re having you for a great feast,” cackled the imp.\n\nThe imp led the pair down a long passageway, where demons and monsters lined the walls.\n\n“What beautiful hair the girl child has,” said an old hag of a goblin.\n\nAnother creature wearing some sort of armor croaked out, “And look how plump the boy is.”\n\nFinally, the children entered a huge cavern. There was almost no light, but the children could make out a stone slab table in the center of the expanse, and they could hear creatures lining the walls. On the wall opposite them, the Dragon God sat upon a great dais, his eyes glowing an eerie red. \n\n“Ah, the humans have arrived,” said the dragon in a booming voice. “Now the ancient rites can begin!”\n\nThe children were so scared, that it barely registered to them that some creature was bringing something to the Dragon God that had a small, fiery glow. The object was placed on the stone table before him, and silence fell over the room.\n\nSuddenly, every creature began chanting.\n\n“Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, dear Dragon God! Happy birthday to you!”\n\nThe Dragon God blew out the candles, and everyone cheered.\n\n“So wait, you’re not going to eat us?” asked the boy.\n\n“Ha, ha, ha,” laughed the Dragon God. “You thought I was going to eat you??! That’s why I love you humans, so funny.”\n\nWith that, the lights turned on. All around the children were various monsters, as well as demons and lesser gods. Most startling thing though, were all the children that were sacrificed to the dragon were there as well, smiling and celebrating. One of the older children wrapped his arms around the boy and girl.\n\n“This is just the beginning,” said the older child. “Wait until you see what awaits you in the realm of the Dragon God.”",
"- Wafting Wade -\n\nBum bum bu bum. Bum bum bu bum. The drums thumped out a somber beat. Wade approached the oaken tribunal bench. He sat down on the dry, splintery seat of despair. The three High Chiefs sat in front of him; they sat upon satin lined pillows, stuffed with goose feathers. Their scrotums did not stick to the sides of their legs, sweat pouring down their thigh in anticipation. The verdict, the judgement, the seering; a hell scorched coin cast into the air, now tumbled to the ground and would tell of Wade’s fortune. \n\n“Wade Wilson?” the Second Chief asked.\n\n“Yus, Chieftain,” Wade confirmed quickly, with a dull, blank face.\n\n“…Uh, yes, Wade Wilson. As you know, every year we must pick a sacrifice to brunt the fury of the Gods,” quaked the Second Chieftain. \n\n“Yus, sir. I been thinking about that lately, and I reckon I be the right one to go in thar this year,” said Wade.\n\n“And as such a sacrifice must be made once a year,” the Chieftain broke off, “excuse me, what did you say?”\n\nSilence filled the air. The Chieftains shared glances, and then focused their gaze upon Wade. An enigmatic figure, Wade sat their staring back at them. His eyes pierced their soul. Empty, dead globes, his eyes were transfixed on the three Chiefs. \n\nThe First Chieftain shuffled, “Mr. … Wade?”\n\n“Mr. Wade!” the Third Chieftain strained, his voice frail and weak with age and illness.\n\nHis head snapped to, “Yus, sir,” answered Wade. “Imma listening to ya.”\n\nThe First Chieftain cleared his throat, “You say that you’re ready to be this year’s village sacrifice, Wade?”\n\n“Why yus, sir,” said Wade. “I reckon I be the one that need to go in that thar hole and do the sacraficen’.”\n\n“Eh, uh,” stammered the Third Chief, “and how so, Wade? How do you…’reckon’ you are this year’s sacrifice to the almighty, all powerful, all beautiful, all wholesome Gods?”\n\nWade sat and stared out the window of the pine and maple leaf hut. Smoked pine wood sat one on one, over top each other, as dried maple leaves, glued together with bees wax and horse dung, lined the roof. The Sun had begun to crest over the hills behind the village, and an even amber now glowed across the village and streamed through the window in the hut. The afternoon light lit the Chieftains and Wade in an orange sun beam, and the truth flowed freely from a still, complacent, Wade.\n\n“Ya see, sirs, I been thinkin’. I been thinkin’ that a good man deserves to stay at home with his little ones and woman-thing, and bring in the crop and tend to his herd.”\n\nThe Second Chieftain shifted uneasily in his seat, “…’woman-thing’?” he inquired to the other Chieftains.\n\n“A good man takes care of his brood. Ain’t no good man be deserving of the sacrifice. I know you Chieftains done sat up there, fat and secure, safe and sound while us little-uns go into the caves for the sacrifice, year after year.”\n\n“Now wait a minute!” exclaimed the First Chieftain.\n\n“Let him speak,” the Second Chieftain said, “every man deserves last words.”\n\nWade looked at the Chieftains, back and forth. A moulage of confusion and malice kneaded into his face. “You Chiefs send men to their deaths in them caves, but you send the wrong ones. That’s what I been figured on,” Wade swayed side to side, in a hypnotic, dumb-founded pattern. “If you’re gonna send somebody up in them caves, it ought to be a nobody; a low-down, sorry piece of squat!”\n\nThe Chieftains gasped. Taken back by Wade Wilson’s comments, they shot gazes at one another, flabbergasted by his honesty.\n\n“So, send me in there,” Wade said finally. “Send me in them caves.”\n\nThe Chieftains sat silent, gawking at Wade, the first sacrifice, the only sacrifice that hadn’t pleaded for their life. Their mouths dry, their minds empty. They sat staring at the tattered man, clothes thread- bare and skin dry and cracking. They sat and waited for his next words.\n\n“I’ve kept a Squall and little-uns. I’ve not sent my youngens’ to your schools and learnt your ways. I’ve stayed at Shulk and kept my tribe inside when you say we ought to go to your day of worship. I done taught my little-uns about the Sun and Stars, the Earth and Moon, and our ancestor’s spirits. I done told them about the energy that flows through these lands,” said Wade.\n\n“These Gods and cruel and dumb. They be dumber than the likes of me, by my tellin’,” Wade stated.\n\n“Hold your tongue!” roard the First Chieftain.\n\nWade shifted his gaze to the ground and shook his head, “I done held my tongue long enough, sir. You go ahead and send me to them caves. I ain’t got nothing here left for you and yours. I be the best sacrifice you can find.”\n\nThe Chieftains looked on in disbelief. Minutes passed. Silence. The Third Chieftain came to his senses first, “Wade Wilson, you are this year’s sacrifice. Be gone from this place. Let us not remember your legacy, but only your name. Let the Gods be satisfied.”\n\nWade surveyed his jury; his confession. He stood and left the hovel. He strode through the village like the richest man before him, his footfalls heavy enough to imprint the ground for all time. They reached the caves and the guards nudged him forward, yet he needed no encouragement. \n\nThe winding passages of the cave took more and more light from his eyes as he turned each corner. Soon he knew the last turn would be the last of all light he would ever see. His thoughts were of his little-uns, and of his Squall; a fair skinned, dark haired beauty that would never be rivaled in all his world. He was a fortunate one, he knew. \n\nThe last bend took him as much as he approached it. A sucking feeling thrust him into the dark chasm. Wade forced his eyes open to meet oblivion. The osmotic suction vomited him out on the other side. He rubbed his eyes hard to gain clarity. The damp cave had receded. The cold darkness had evaporated. A warm glow now enveloped Wade. ",
"I am the sacrifice. Why me? Out of all people, I get to die. Or become a slave to the gods. I remember the last guy who went in. His name was Natquan. Kind of a slacker, he also broke a few laws or two. When he walked into the cave, we heard his scream and that was the last time we ever saw or heard from him since. But I got straight A's. I don't deserve to die a horrible death. I have a 392 in standard testing. The national average is 204 \"Jake Salender, please step up to the stage, please.\" I slowly get out of my seat. The lady calling my name gives me a fake smile. I look around the room to see my friends faces; they avoid eye contact and stare at nothing with a cold, dead look on their faces. I slowly walk upstage, and my footsteps echo in the silence. I see my mom and dad. My mom is crying and my dad is trying his best to stay strong for her. \"Your family will be awarded $50,000 a year for your noble sacrifice.\" More like a forced sacrifice. at least my dad will never have to work again. \"The sacrificing will begin tomorrow. You are all dismissed.\"\n\nI stand outside the cave. The lady is reading the long, boring speech. She thanks me and my family a million times, then finally says, \"you may enter the cave.\" I walk in slowly. I can barley see anything. after i walk a few yards, the door behind me shuts. I can not escape. I walk forward for about 5 minutes. I start questioning if there is even any gods. Am i just going to starve to death in here? As I continue walking forward, I hear screaming. I am almost at the end. I start running. I am ready to die. If the gods demand it, I will deliver. But i notice that the screaming starts to sound more like cheering. I hear the slight chant of \"chug! chug! chug!\" what the heck? I hear an british accent yell, \"Oi! I think we have a newcomer lads!\" Finally I walk into the room, and there's a party going in full swing. Then I hear the Chug chant and there is a guy who is drinking a gallon of Beer at once! \"whats going on?\" I ask. Suddenly a knife comes right at my heart, and I scream. Then everyone laughs and goes back to partying. \"what was that for?\" I ask angrily. \"Population control\" someone answers. Everyone laughs. Then I see Natquan! I run over to him and ask him whats going on. \"We live in paradise down here. this is the party room.\" He says. \"wait what?\" I say confused. He looks at me with a grin on his face and says \"the reason the gods make this seem like a sacrifice is so it doesn't get overpopulated. We have 3 main areas here. You have the party room, where we party 24/7, we have the sandbox, where you can make a world inside of it, for example, a world where school doesn't exist, or something like that, then you have the fun room, which becomes whatever the gods are feeling that day. I remember once we had a nerf war at a trampoline park. So anyway, i'm gonna go party some more, see ya!\" And then he left. As I walk into the crowd, I think to myself, this could be alright.",
"It has been over a decade since the gods demanded a sacrifice. As bloody as this custom became, it was forgotten in not much more than a decade.\n*How disrespectful of the humans, to forget our existence.* Lian said with pride. *We shall not let these barbaric creatures forget where they came from\n, our current views may be different ,but we can not allow the apemen to forget the wrath of gods.* Thaler steps into the picture, his red hair burning lightly,\n a cunning smile on his face. *Enough of this foolish prideralley. We will mark our existence in their minds forever,\n but it will not be by divine hands. The mortals have forgotten how the world looked like\n before our arrival. Send an envoy Thelengres. We will ask for one final sacrifice.*\n\n*My Lord, my Lord.* - *What is it boy, don't you see I'm in the middle of something?* Indeed Claerin was in the middle of painting Sarah,\n the ignorance of the old man has only grown over the years and now that he leads us, these debaucheries have become more and more frequent.\n *Speak now boy.* - *My Sire,* the boy was trying hard not to stare at the young girl shivering in the corner, he swallows his curiosity.\n *a divine envoy has arrived my Sire, he bears a message.* - *What do those bloody bastards want now, did we not make it clear enough, that we do not\n want a part in their deals? Where is the message, boy?* Claerin's hands shake with anger just thinking about what those sniveling pigs want now. \n*The envoy said so it was for you to read, not anyone else. He's awaiting you at Mount Kaelos, by the tower of the four seers.\n And one more thing Sire, he asked that you go alone.* With one last glance on the room, the boy left\nClaerin alone with his problems. *Bloody fucking divinities, is it not enough that I have to keep these animals in line, now you want something once\n again?* Claerin storms out of the room, shutting the door with haste, leaving the girl behind.\n\n*It has been TWO days Claerin, what took you so long? Do you not fear the WRATH of the Gods?* - *Oh leave the crap behind, if you came here to\n punish me, you might as well just go ahead, I'm tired of this ordeal.* Claerin says and opens the door to the tower with as much arrogance and\n strength as he can muster. *Tread carefully human, you dance on strings by our design.* The envoy, as misterious as ever. A dark robe hiding his\n very existence from this world, but it's glowing yellow eyes, the only certainty of his presence. Ever slowly looming towards the table of ordering.\n *Hereby hear the message of the Gods human. The hour of the last sacrifice is nigh, gather us your best, a knight of honor, virtue, integrity,\n clarity, wisdom and purity. With this last sacrifice our concord is fulfilled.* The envoy's cold and emotionless words freeze the very air in the room.\n You could feel reality tear apart, as this ancient entity enslaved by the gods inches closer and closer to breaking it's bonds. *The Gods do not like\n to be delayed.* In a blink of an eye, it vanishes and color comes seeping back into the room, leaving Claerin with only his thoughts and doubts.\n\n*Siarra, grand knight of the Empire, the honour is yours to become the last to walk the ancient path and engrave your name in history, as champion of\n the Gods. I ask you, do you accept this one last task the Empire assigns you with? Do you have the courage, the strength to walk this path?*\n *I, Siarra Encher, firstborn of Staren and Tiarra Encher, hereby swear on my life, I will fulfill this last act service and bring the glory of the\n Empire with me. In my grandest hour I thank you for bestoving this task upon me and ask that you lend me your wisdom for this one final journey.*\n*Siarra, champion of the Gods, rise and accept this blade, with this weapon, you will bear the trials of the Gods and be one with the Infinity.*\n\n*Ah, the mortal champion arrives, it seems he was fit to survive our trials. Look Thaler, your newest blade has arrived it pristene condition, would\n you thought of that? Would you believe the humans would find someone fit for your plans?* As robust as thunder, Thaler raises his voice.\n *Silence. Come closer child, it seems you've proved your worth, now it is time for your rebirth.*\n\nEdit:formatting",
"So I fell into the volcano and died. And whaddayaknow, there I was in Utopia of the Gods.\n\nThey were friendly and all but when I brought up how the entire initial storyline and characters (all the people still alive) had been narratively destroyed, they were like, \"storytelling, son!\"\n\nSo I used my God powers to let everyone on Earth know the real gig. \n\nPeople on Earth started jumping into volcanos en masse. Forbes published a bullshit, virtue-signaling article about whether all the bodies would have an effect on the magma layer. CNN published some NASA satellite scans of volcanos at the time people were jumping in and told viewers it was Russia.\n\nBut none of them crashed our party so all us Gods were like, \"who cares?\"\n\nBy the time people figured out that they had to be sacrificed to the Gods in order for it to work, they had developed a society based on microtransacting a digital currency that tracks all your poops, called Poop¢oin, and this had made them all really bad at just eating grapes, having sex with animals, touching each other's fingers in a billow of clouds and cherubs, you know, God stuff. All people could do anymore is poop and if they weren't pooping they were freaking out.\n\nSo we Gods were all like, \"nyaaahhh!\" and we made it so you could only get in if you had been sacrificed involuntarily. Godtopia continued more or less exactly as it had forever but life on Earth got really kinky.\n\n{the end}\n",
"\"Today is the day,\" Nolan promised himself, slowly buttoning up his black cotton shirt before pressing out the wrinkles with his hands. \n\nHe stared at himself in the mirror, searching for a glimpse of the man he was before... \n\n\"Nolan, breakfast!\" He winced as the shrill voice pierced his thoughts. Glancing one last time, his eye caught on his finger - at the metal band that had been there five years now. He turned away and walked downstairs to the kitchen. \n\nOn the small table was set the same breakfast he had every Saturday. A piece of toast, an egg, and two strips of bacon. No, to call this atrocity bacon would be unforgivable in his mind. 'Turkey Bacon,' He thought to himself 'for the wife who hasnt successfully taken all of her man's will to live.'\n\n\"Well, you seem in a chipper mood,\" Clara commented. Nolan snapped back into reality, and he looked into the brown eyes of his wife, searching for the twinkle that was always there, failing to find it. He hadn't seen that twinkle for two years now. Not since the news that a child would be unlikely. \n\nNolan reached for his wife's hand, finding comfort in the smoothness of it, the routine of it. \"I suppose im just excited.\" He said. \n\n\"Oh yes, today is The Reaping, isn't it? I wonder who they will choose.\" Clara continued on, asking him to remember every detail with precision to share with her when he returned before changing subjects to her latest Tv show. \n\nNolan mentally ticked the moments in his head until he felt hed given her enough time to babble before patting his mouth with his napkin, then pushing away from the table. \n\n\"I have to make a quick stop before heading over to the gathering\" he said at Clara's look of alarm, bending over to give her a kiss. \"I love you.\" He said with conviction, then walked out the door. \n\nNolan tried to remember details as he walked to the cave mouth, thinking of ways to re-tell the trek in a manner that his wife would find entertaining. By the time he reached the small group of men, he was sure he had it down perfectly, and envisioned himself telling Clara, her face lit with joy, the twinkle finally back. \n\n\"Looks like the last person has arrived\" said Grant, the town mayor. \"Before we draw the name of this year's sacrifice, have we any volunteers?\" \n\nThe question was asked as a courtesy, no one ever volunteered. A single hand rose in the crowd, the owner of the hand became the center of attention. \n\n\"Nolan,\" Grant said, concern and gratitude washing over him. \"Thank you for your offering.\" \n\nThe other men repeated him, each patting Nolan on the back. A few giving him quick hugs or a handshake. Nolan knew there was no going back now, and prepared himself for a gruesome end. \n\nMentally he reminded himself of all the forgotten anniversaries, the nights out with the guys as Clara waited alone for him to return, the doctor saying the words \"male infertility\" as Clara's body shook with sorrow, the desire for a child leaving a hole he could never fill. \n\nThe cave's damp and musty walls began to close around him, but he kept walking. Then suddenly, the cave stopped. Nolan stared at the wall for a few minutes, then laughed at how anticlimactic his end was. No foul beast, no skeletons lining the floor. Turning around, Nolan leaned back to brace himelf against the wall and felt himself falling. \n\n\"Mother of...\" Nolan exclaimed as his elbow caught his fall, a sharp pain shooting up his arm and into his shoulder. Laughter and applause surrounded him and he glanced around awestruck. Around him was a humongous cavern, pockmarked with small rooms and bedazzled with hanging lanterns and hammocks. In the midst of the cavern he could see men fishing from a large pond, and he smelled meat grilling somewhere. \n\nAn older man he had never met before reached down and helped him to his feet. \"Not what you expected, eh?\" Nolan shook his head as he dusted himself off. \"You're the first volunteer we've had in the fifty years that we have done this. Aside from us founders of course. Why did you volunteer?\"\n\n\"Because shes better off without me, i took away her twinkle\"",
"\"Why?\"\n\n\"Because we can't take more than one a year.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"We can't afford to spend the power required to acclimate more than one new mortal a year. We need the mortals to voluntarily limit the number they send. Calling them 'sacrifices' was judged to be the most effective way.\"\n\n\"So what's the catch?\"\n\n\"You can't leave.\"\n\n\"Why would I want to leave this Heaven?\"\n\n\"Well for well adjusted people, they miss friends and family. 'Sacrifices' usually aren't well adjusted. They've usually either been ostracized socially, or are otherwise ready to move on. Others just want to find out what people would say if they knew the truth.\"\n\n\"But they can't, or they'd fight to get in.\"\n\n\"Yes, and if a big group of mortals entered at once, Heaven would fall.\"\n\n\"How many years do you expect that to take?\"\n\n\"I beg your pardon?\"\n\n\"When is the expected median time to failure? This setup seems very shoddy to me. No craft at all. Where are the failsafes, the redundancies?\"\n\n\"Heaven has stood for generations mortal. Don't question what you cannot fathom.\"\n\n\"I've heard that one before. If you can't explain it, you just don't understand it. You said generations, correct? Not ages, or eons? When was this Heaven created? One hundred years ago? Two?\"\n\n\"-One.\"\n\n\"Gods almighty, I knew it. You're probably past your expected fail by date already. There might be another mortal right behind me and you'd not even know it would you? Would you?\"\n\n\"But why would mortals-?\"\n\n\"Why would mortals send two per year? Why would mortals do anything? Because they are ignorant and stupid. Because they are bored, or hungry, or angry. They blame you all for everything and they think these caves make you happy. They almost sent ten virgins in here last year, did you know that? Of course you didn't.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"Big flood, bad harvest. Doesn't really matter, they didn't, but they could and you don't even have as much as a single stone blocking their way. Not that it would buy you much more time. Mortals are ignorant, stupid, and determined. You put a wall in the way they'll bang it down with their faces if they thought it give them divine goodwill.\"\n\n\"You are not like the other 'sacrifices' mortal.\"\n\n\"Of course not, I'm probably your first engineer.\"",
"I had been dragged, silenced, and beaten. The one thing I had feared most had actually happened to me. It was no use resisting the Priests of the Gods. Everyone knew that. The last time someone had resisted cause them only pain and suffering, first at the deaths of their families, and then as a sacrifice to the Gods.\n\nIt was a horrible spectacle to watch, seeing them hurl the poor soul into the abyss at the edge of the mountain. And now I was one of those poor souls. \n\nAnd it was all because of my virginity. \n\nIt wasn't my fault I hadn't been chosen by anyone yet, I thought I would have made a great wife. But as soon as the Priests announced the newest demands of the Gods, it was like I carried a plague. Everyone was quick to be rid of me, pushed me towards the temple like a pig towards the fire pit. \n\nNow I could feel the winds rush upwards into my face from the edge. It smelled of dampness, cold and fear. I didn't even dare to look over the edge for the bottom. The priest behind me turned me towards the crowds and shouted \"To bring another year of peace and prosperity, we offer this favored sacrifice to the all powerful and merciful Gods!\" \n\nFavored my ass. \n\nBefore I knew it, the ground beneath me was gone, and I only felt the rush of wind and the pain in my stomach from the push of the Priests. A scream erupted from chest. Then I was swallowed by the darkness. \n\nThe fall felt as if it would last forever, but then the cool embrace of water gently welcomed me. I was expecting a rough, sudden end, but I was met with almost a welcoming rush of spring water. My head submerged underneath the surface as if it was laid on a pillow, and in the darkness, I saw a warm glow beneath me. I swam for it, but there was almost no need. A current pulled me towards it. I had no need to draw for breath, and a strange feeling of safety ushered me towards this orange light. \n\nI burst from the water, my feet finding solid ground. I was in a world of eternal sunset, the sky painted with hues of red and orange. The pool behind me was part of a garden on the outskirts of a shining city. I looked around, wondering why my clothes weren't wet when I spotted a flying man heading towards me. He had a kind face and a glowing wreath of holly around his head. \n\n\"Do not be afraid. We are not going to hurt you.\" \n\n\"Where am I and who are you? This isn't Hell in disguise is it? Some twisted joke for the God's?\"\n\nThe man laughed. \"No, child. We don't like those kind of jokes. We prefer really bad puns, or cheesy jokes typically made by older gentlemen. Personally, I like witty backtalk, that's why I asked for someone like you!\" I looked at him, trying to determine if he was serious. \n\n\"So you asked for a virgin? How does that even make sense?\" He laughed again and pointed at me. \n\n\"Because only someone who talked and acted like that would scare away those silly men out there. Anyway, let's head to the city, we've all been waiting for you.\" \n\n\"Y-you aren't going to kill Me? But the Priests...the sacrifice...?\" He shook his head. \n\n\"We think there's been some miscommunication, we didn't want any priests to treat people so badly. We're just lonely here in our city. No one ever comes and visits anymore.\"",
"The long, prying fingers of the evening sun slithered into the cave entrance, touching and transmuting tree roots, fallen leaves, and animal scat, into a dragon's golden hoard -- albeit, as only a fleeting wealth.\n\nChristoph stepped inside and took a deep, lung-inflating breath. The taste of the stale air that drifted from deep inside the cave, was to him, the first taste of absolution. Of hope. \n\nHe'd offered himself as a second sacrifice this year, claiming he was the most sinful of those who were left. In truth, he simply couldn't see another of his children perish, and hoped his death might finally sate the greed of the Gods.\n\nHe turned to the villagers gathered behind him, their faces pale, their weathered hands trembling. Scolding tears streaked his wife's emaciated cheeks; their child buried her head into her mother's dress. *I do it for you,* he wanted to say to the girl. *So that the harvest will not be blighted. So that your sister is the last life that the stream water takes. So that the Gods know we've not forgotten them.* \n\nBut instead, he raised a solemn, silent hand. There was a shout of acknowledgement and a frenzy of nervous excitement, as twelve men thrust their shoulders against the great boulder. Cries of *good luck,* and *thank you,* and *good riddens,* rang out in a bitter chorus, as the men heaved and hoed, and as the ground beneath Christoph began to shiver.\n\nAs the boulder blocked the entrance, the sunlight, for a second, was flattened against a single wall -- then it was snuffed completely, as if a God had squeezed his fingers against the flame. The voices of the villagers too, were muted from the cave.\n\nFor a moment, Christoph stopped still and simply *listened:* to the crackling of ice somewhere within; to the fluttering of wings from a bat he couldn't see; to the hope that his daughter might yet survive the cruel winter ahead.\n\nThere was a new smell that mingled in the air now, noticeable only without the breath of the outside wind to taint it. This smell, that rode on the back of the stale air, reminded Christoph of the rotting corn he'd helped to harvest during autumn. *Vegetation.*\n\nChristoph took two halves of quartz from deep within a pocket, and a long torch from off his back. The stones sparked; the sulphur and lime mixture erupted -- a mix even the dribbling, disproving ice of the cave wouldn't be able to extinguish.\n\nHe soon realised he'd have to find the Gods himself; why would they waste their time coming to find him? He shrugged his shoulders and felt the weight of the iron sword on his back. If he found a beast within the cavern walls, well the Gods would have an extra offering tonight.\n\nHis footsteps were a haunted storm on both wall and ceiling, a building tempest of anticipation. Christoph passed through tunnel after tunnel, the rock walls around him giving way to warped ice that his torch sang a hymn of winter solstice upon. \n\n*Gods!* he yelled. *I am ready. Come, take me!*\n\nBut they did not. The only reply was the *plunk, plunk, plunk,* from spears of ice dripping their watery innards.\n\nHe saw his face reflected in a crystal sheet: deformed and distorted, stretched and skewed. That, he knew, was how he'd looked inside for a long time, now. A twisted, gnarled soul, ever since Clara's death.\n\nThe cave began to wind down into the earth, creeping and corkscrewing deeper with each turn, with each step. Hours went by -- how many, he could not judge. Time was not a condition of Gods, nor of caves. The further Christoph descended, the less ice marked the walls. They instead became crumbling, uneven earth. The frozen chill began to give way to warmth.\n\nAn uneasy feeling grasped at Christoph's chest. A thought that flagellated his mind.\n\nDown, still further. Ever winding, ever falling, ever deeper. Until he heard the voices he'd hoped he wouldn't. Distant echoes. Murmurs. Laughter. And with them came the smell of cooked meats and spilled ale. Unless Bacchus himself was down here, Christoph understood why his daughter had died to the water's poison. Why the crop's curse had not been lifted. His hands trembled in rage.\n\nThe descent stopped. He found himself on a wide, open plateau inside a huge cavern. There was light flickering some way ahead, and the crackling of fire. He placed his own torch on the ground and went on from there without it, moving from shadow to shadow as he gradually neared the noise makers. \n\nAt least fifteen of them sat there. Their mouths swilling with meat, ale and deceit. He recognised them all, men and women who were once his friends. Those that had promised their lives for the good of all. But they had played the Gods for fools. And in doing so...\n\nHis hand grasped the hilt of his iron blade. \n\nThey were drunk and unarmed.\n\nTheir mouths, and food, dropped when they saw him; when they saw the unquenchable rage within his eyes.\n\nThey tried to beg, but their *sorrys* were fuel to a furnace of hatred.\n\nAs his sword sliced limb and torso, and as the black liquid filled the cavern, something within Christoph bubbled to the surface. *The face he'd seen in the crystal ice.* \n\nHe finally understood his purpose.\n\nOnce done, Christoph dipped his hands into the growing pool of blood, then smeared the warmth across his face.\n\nWhen new sacrifices were cast into the cave, he would be their Ferryman. \n\nHe would be there to lead them to the Gods.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n ",
"The estoc was fairly plain. The blade was iron and although there were delicately engraved curlicues on its brass hilt, it had no gem on its pommel. For nearly a year after it was crafted, the weapon had gone unwanted in the blacksmith's shop on Mecklenburger Strasse, until the night that Erhard, who was a messenger, had purchased it. He had done so after becoming too drunk in the alehouse, after his dear brother, the scribe Adalgar, had entreated him to pursue his grandest dream, and go petition the wealthy farmer Wenzell Junnes for the hand of his winsome daughter Agatha. \n\n\"Why not you, brother?\" Adalgar had asked, \"All you need is to own a fine blade, and then Herr Junnes will surely consent. What father would refuse a man of dexterity who could care for and protect his daughter?\" \n\nThough on many mornings he did not, when Erhard awoke he had held onto the courage he had felt while in his cups. He rode his horse right away to the Junnes manor to present his offer. But it had all been a misjudgment, as Erhard had no experience in the sorts of words and ornamentals that would impress a man such as Herr Junnes. When Erhard knocked on the manor door, with his pilling cloak, too-curly beard, and hand trembling on the leather sheath, he stuttered through his case. The rich Herr Junnes quickly started to chortle at the notion of his Agatha wedded to a man such as the one before him. He smacked Erhard for his imperiousness, until the boy fell into the hay, right beside some fly-covered dung and snorting hogs.\n\n\"What gall you have to ask this,\" Herr Junnes shouted at Erhard, \"you, who belongs in the mud with the pigs! Agatha is promised to a true gentleman of Hamburg. His dowry will outsize your entire life's work.\"\n\nAfter this rebuke and humiliation, Erhard became very melancholy. He wandered alone along the Weser, weeping. In his shame, he considered cutting himself with the estoc, which had already cost him his last ducats for a foolish dream. But before he gathered the resolve to act, his brother Adalgar discovered him. Adalgar implored Erhard not to surrender so easily, that he could yet prove Herr Junnes wrong, and show that he was a man of means and capability. Adalgar reminded Erhard how, in a good many Bremen alleyways at night, a man may flash his weapon to certain nefarious looking characters, and brush his thumb against his nose, to signal that his estoc and honor were for sale. Hearing this strategy, Erhard feared what sinful things he might be beckoned to do for the coin needed to win over Herr Junnes. But he was enticed at the prospect of the wealth Adalgar spoke of. \n\n\"Indeed,\" Adalgar explained, \"just this afternoon, I was informed by a stout Italian in a brown mandelion of a profitable venture. If a man is to travel to a certain cave in the west, and recover a leather satchel lost inside it, he will be promptly rewarded with forty ducats! I would have taken the mission myself, but alas, brother, I am not a messenger, and have no horse. However, I happily trust this cause to you, so that you may at last win your beautiful Agatha\"\n\nErhard thanked Adalgar for the information. He ran back to his horse, quickly watered it, and rode off that very night for the cave. He found the mouth easily, and ventured inside, igniting an oil soaked torch for light. But the cave was larger than he had expected, and worse, he did not realize this until it was too late to have left a trail, until he had already forgotten all his left and right turns, and could not notice any differences in the endlessly repeating limestone or stalactites. Erhard cried out with his whole voice, but all that returned to him were echoes and the dripping of water. He began to panic, breathing much too quick in the thick cave air. He keeled over onto the dirty floor, and shrieked when a beetle skittered against his hand. He realized he was no man of dexterity and capability. He deserved an even baser estoc to match his cravenness.\n\nBut just as Erhard had lost all hope, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He spun his torso around, and lit up another's face with his torch. Erhard began to stutter even worse than he had at Herr Junnes' door. Through some impossible fortune or blessing, his savior was Agatha herself! She crouched down beside him and she touched his face. She told him she had heard her father's cruel rebuke on the manor steps, and afterwards had run away to follow her heart and find Erhard. She had interviewed all the gossips and vagrants of Bremen until she had uncovered the details of Erhard's journey to the cave. She had then set out after him. Agatha said how gladdened she was that she had found him. She gave him a kiss, and proclaimed how full her heart was at the prospect of starting their lives together.\n\n\"We must return to Bremen at once!\" Erhard declared, \"I greatly hope you know the way out of the cave, for I had lost my way until you found me.\"\n\n\"But, my love, why would we leave the cave?\" Agatha asked, \"Bremen is a fine city, but this cave contains paradise itself.\"\n\nAgatha then took Erhard by the hand, and ran with him, twisting and turning deeper into the limestone. She giggled and chided him to keep up with her sprint. At last, they turned the final corner, and Erhard saw it: a pristine garden, full of endless green plants with butterflies on their flowers, rustled by bouncing, brown hares, and drenched in yellow sunlight. \n\n\\**\n\nAdalgar found Herr Junnes in the cellar, and the rich farmer appeared very content. The vial of the strange green liquid, which had been nearly empty at their last meeting, was now completely filled. Herr Junnes patted Adalgar roughly on the shoulder and tossed him a pouch full of silver. \n\n\"This is well earned,\" Junnes told the scribe, \"with your sacrifice, my fields will be blessed for another season.\"\n\n\"Sir, not my sacrifice,\" said Adalgar, \"it was Erhard, not I, who's life was given to the Grass-goddess Greva, so that your contract with her would be renewed.\"\n\nHerr Junnes sauntered over to a small table and picked up a small sword. Adalgar recognized it right away. It was Erhard's simple estoc, which he had surely taken with him to the cave. Adalgar could not fathom how it had returned to Bremen already. Herr Junnes placed the weapon in his conspirator's palm.\n\n\"Perhaps, the sacrifice is Erhard's,\" Junnes replied, tilting his head from side to side, \"perhaps that is so. Though, is it not Erhard who will live forever in a garden, where all his highest hopes have become real to him? And is it not you, Adalgar, who will live in Bremen, knowing always that you have sent your brother to endure an eternal lie?\"\n\n",
"*They said that the Exile was a good thing. That it was a journey which would appease those from above. That our faith was enough to satisfy them. But I know what it truly is. I know of the terrible secret that the Exile holds. The Exile is a sacrifice to the gods. \n\nFor a long journey to a distant place with no returning, you'd think that the chiefs would at least allow you to take your belongings with you. But no. Simply not true. Your stuff stays in the village, and gets handed out to everyone else. Who could seriously buy into the Exile being anything but human sacrifice?*\n\n*Let's be honest. I'm just trying to keep my mind occupied. After all, I'm the one that's been Exiled now.*\n\nThe path to the Caves is a long one. And that long walk to them gives a lot of time for you to think about what's going to happen to you. I've already went through all the stages, the denial, the depression, the anger. But none of it's going to do me any good. So I keep walking, with my back straight and my chin up. I am going to face death with dignity.\n\nThe mouth of the Cave is **large**. It is a massive gaping hole into the mountain side and inside is nothing but pitch darkness. There's a sound of dripping water echoing out from the Cave. This is certainly not the most foreboding place in the world. Definitely not. \n\nI close my eyes and walk a few steps into the Cave and stop. *Huh. Haven't been eaten yet. That's a good sign, right?*\n\nA few steps more and the sound of dripping fades away, overshadowed by the sound of a rushing current. Opening my eyes, I still find that for the most part, the Cave is dark, but there's a sliver of light up ahead. I run towards it.\n\nAs I run, the roaring of the water gets louder and louder, until I realize that the light is coming from the other side of a wall of water cascading from above. I'm inside a waterfall. *I'm INSIDE A WATERFALL?!*\n\nSomething breaks inside me, and I charge out into the water...and find myself falling through the air. It's a few brief moments of panic and self-loathing before I splash into a pool below. When I float back to the surface, I'm greeted by a glowing city. There's people everywhere, all smiling and enjoying themselves. Were the elders really telling the truth? Does Exile really lead...to *Rapture*?",
"Griff approached the cave cautiously, trying to calm his beating heart. He could hear distant sounds; wailing, screeches. \n\nHe knew his time had come. \n\nAs his kingdom's champion, it was his destiny to be sacrificed to the gods. While it saddened him that he would not lose his life in battle, it was also a great honour. His village would prosper, and Leila would know that he was not a coward. \n\nHe entered the cave, walking with purpose, taking deep breaths. A distant glow of light gradually burgeoned into flickering flames, casting shadows on the jagged walls. The screams became decipherable, echoing, sounding more and more like... *revelry*. What trickery was this? \n\nA flash of light made Griff recoil. He righted himself, closed his eyes and thrust out his arms, resigning himself to his fate. \n\nBooming laughter echoed across the chasm.\n\n\"**Lay down your arms, human,**\" a voice boomed, \"**we mean you no harm.**\"\n\n\"**Apart from your liver, perhaps,**\" another voice reverberated. \n\nGriff struggled to make make them out in the light. \n\n\"Will an eagle feast on it, like the legend of Prometheus?\" He asked, making his will iron. \"Do as you wish, for I am yours. I only ask that you-\"\n\n\"**The alcohol, human,**\" the voice replied, \"**it shall harm your liver. Bit of a slow one this year, eh?**\"\n\nLaughter reverberated across the cave once more. Griff felt overwhelmed; confused. Was this all a foolish game? \n\nA golden chalice appeared in the light in front of him, filled to the brim with honey mead. Just the smell of it was intoxicating. \n\n\"Drink up!\" a familiar voice said, as a hand hit his shoulder. \"It's your favourite!\"\n\nThe blinding light dimmed, and Griff's vision slowly became adjusted to the glare. A mystical sight revealed itself before him - a glimmering, godlike town, with a feasting hall in the centre. \n\n\"Quite a sight, hey Griff?\" the voice continued, squeezing his shoulder. Griff turned around and saw J'karl, the kingdom's sacrifice from three years before. Griff was overwhelmed. \n\n\"J'karl? How do you still live?\" Griff said, completely shocked. He had always looked up to him, ever since he was a child.\n\n\"Not what you were expecting, right?\" J'karl replied, putting the chalice into Griff's hand and leading him to the feasting hall. \"Same for all of us.\"\n\nGriff saw countless men, all previous sacrifices of the kingdom. They nodded their cups in recognition. Most had grown fat and red in the face. \n\n\"I wish I could say we threw this party for your arrival - but truly, party is all we ever do,\" J'karl said. \"The gods supply all we could ever need, and are the head of all our festivities.\"\n\n\"This... this is not what I was expecting,\" Griff replied. \n\n\"You will get used to it, young Griff,\" J'karl said. \"Just drink and be merry; it is all we can ask for.\" He said the last line with a trace of shame.\n\nGriff looked around him. The gods floated around them all; drinking, gambling, fighting. The sacrifices had become pigs of men, eating their scraps, losing all touch of what they had been. \n\n\"Do the gods truly care for us?\" Griff whispered, gazing at the hedonism. \"Do they watch over our kingdom?\"\n\n\"The gods do not care, my friend,\" J'karl said, \"they care not. But we can at least enjoy our time here. Give me death or give me this, and my choice is clear.\"\n\n\"So these are the things we worship? These things that rule over us, but do not care for us?\"\n\nJ'karl shrugged. \"They do not interfere with the affairs of man. They do us no harm.\"\n\n\"But they subsist over the power we give them?\" Griff replied.\n\nJ'karl stared at him for some time. \"Just drink up, Griff,\" he said, leaving him and joining another group of men. \"I was like you, once. But you'll get used to it.\"\n\nAll of this felt so *wrong*. All of the kingdom's greatest warriors had become fat and plump; like pigs for the slaughter. \n\nPerhaps they were still a sacrifice, being fattened up before their consumption.\n\nGriff gripped the hilt of his sword, looking at the gods above him.\n\n\"If I am not a sacrifice,\" he said, thinking of all that he had left behind, \"then I will be a *saviour*.\"\n\n*****\n\n[Part I](https://www.reddit.com/r/CroatianSpy/comments/7j959j/wp_sacrifice/) | [Part II](https://www.reddit.com/r/CroatianSpy/comments/7jal6h/wp_sacrifice_ii/) | [Part III](https://www.reddit.com/r/CroatianSpy/comments/7jfraw/wp_sacrifice_iii/) | [Part IV](https://www.reddit.com/r/CroatianSpy/comments/7jjetr/wp_sacrifice_iv/)\n\nPart IV is out! \n\n/r/CroatianSpy"
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[WP] You are in a hospital, they told you that you have few hours to live. Your family is too busy to come and think you are overreacting. Suddenly, a person, you have no memories of, visits you and thanks you for changing his/her life. | 65 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"The doctor walked into the room slowly. His face a hard mask and his lips neither smiling nor turned down. James didn't know how to interpret that look. Perhaps it was the face of someone dispassionate? Or perhaps not, James had always been bad at reading people.\n\n\"Mr. Brady I am afraid I have some bad news for you\" He said flatly but quickly.\n\nJames just stared into the mans eyes. He had a feeling he had put this off a bit longer than he should have. But he absolutely hated doctors offices and hospitals.\n\nThe doctor took a slow deep breath before he continued. \" Your symptoms were worrisome so I had the first round of tests expedited. I am afraid you have very advanced kidney disease. Neither of your kidneys are functioning at a life sustaining level. Frankly I am surprised you got here under your own power.\" Another long deep breath and his monologue continued. \"Its also surprising that you were not forced to come in for us to catch this earlier, I am sorry to say there is nothing we can do for you.\" His voice cracked near the end of that line, a sliver of anger reaching even James' awareness. \n\n\"You can't give me something to help the old guys? Put me on a transplant list?\" James said sadly.\n\n\"I am afraid it is much too late for that. The damage to your bodies' vital systems is not reversible at this stage. I am afraid you have a few hours left. Now would be the time to call anyone you need to see, and I will let the front desk know to let in visitors for you. I am sorry.\" The doctor turned to go, a single tear leaking from his eyes as he left the room.\n\nJames stared up at the ceiling. At once dumbfounded and surprised by the news of his imminent death. Was a few hours enough time to get through all the stages of grief? Who should he call? Would anyone even be able to make it in time for him to say goodbye? He would call his ex wife and let her know, she was still in the will after all since he had never bothered changing it. There was no bitterness between them, perhaps she would be willing to help him one last time.\n\nHe did not remember nodding off. But when he came to there was a man in his room he did not recognize. He wore a finely pressed suit with a matching hat and a pocket square hanging out. Rather dapper really, but James did not associate much with the kinds of people that wore those sorts of outfits. At least not on a daily basis anyways. \"Are you heading to a wedding sir? Kind of you to see a tired dying man off sure, but you should really spend your time celebrating life heh heh\" James said.\n\n\"Ah! I owe myself a dollar and you an explanation it would seem\" the stranger said as he stood gingerly. \"The name is Shane Nguyen. Or if it would jog your memory *Sweaty Shane*\"..he paused to see if there was a reaction. Finding none he continued \"Well it was a long time ago...ten years in fact! Back then I was nothing, just some starving sweaty bum hanging out by the horse tracks hoping for charity\" he said. James recalled the scent of dust and manure, and a nagging feeling of disappointment; but could not recall the man. \"Sorry pal, I did spend quite a few evenings at a racetrack in my day but I don't recall meeting any sweaty bums\" James said.\n\n\"Oh well I guess you wouldn't, you were nearly falling down drunk and euphoric with victory.\" Shane said with a chuckle \"Your good fortune was mine as well though. You see in your stupor you were very generous to me James\" Shane said while sitting, the weight of the story forcing him down once more. \"You took notice of me even drunk when nary a soul would. You gave me several thousand dollars that night good sir, on one condition.\" he nearly sobbed that last word out. He took a moment, dabbing his eyes with the pocket square then said in his best imitation of James' voice \"This isn't a handout *hic* buddy, its a hand up! Use this to clean yourself up. Get some fancy duds, and go do something that makes you feel something powerful in your heart. Don't even matter if its good or not, if you ain't feeling you ain't living\". Shane for a moment had a far off look in his eyes then continued speaking, \"That gift and pep talk; it changed the course of my whole life James, and for the better too!\" he sniffed then said \" I did what you said. I got cleaned up, I bought this exact suit. And I started my life over first as a dock hand that made me feel self sufficient again. Then as the dock manager after a few years. Before I knew it I had worked my way up to the very top.\" he said. Shane's chest popped out with pride. \"Last year I retired a very rich man having lived a better life filling my heart with joy and suffering; but also so many other things I am grateful for.\" he said openly crying yet maintaining his voice. \"I wanted you to know before you go, you saved my life James. And it pains me to no end, that I am unable to do the same\" Shane finished talking waiting for a reply.\n\nJames was floored. He couldn't recall this man at all. Not a trace of it remained after ten years. He looked at Shane and said \" Well then thank you Shane. Its comforting to know I did so much good, even if it was just a helping hand while I was wasted. Maybe you can't save me. But maybe you could tell me your life story as I go? Eternity is a long trip i'll need another story to remember..\"\n\n\n ",
"\"It is you.\" \n\nCheyenne opened her eyes. She'd fallen asleep again. That was happening more and more often as they upped the dosages on her meds. She was still aware of the pain in her gut but the drugs just made it so that she didn't care about it. She hardly cared about anything now. \n\nShe'd wanted to believe that if something serious were to happen to her that her mother would care about her then. She'd wanted to believe that all the mean and spiteful thing's she'd lived through were just her mom's way of caring about her. \n\nNow she knew that it wasn't true. The thought hit her like a hammer every time she woke up, every time she had to remember why she was drugged, why she wasn't in her own bed, why she was going to die.\n\n\"I thought I recognized you from somewhere.\" The voice was speaking again. \n\nCheyenne turned to find an older woman sitting by her bed. She looked familiar, but Cheyenne didn't have the energy or clarity of mind to track down why.\n\n\"It took me a while to figure it out, you know.\" The old lady was saying. She wore pink nurse's scrubs and a name tag that said Nancy on it, \"Saw you here and there over the last week or so. Couldn't shake the feeling that I knew you from somewhere. I just figured it out this morning.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry.\" Cheyenne's eyelids felt like lead weights, \"I don't remember you.\"\n\n\"I'm not surprised, given what they've put you on.\" Nancy nodded toward the chart in it's little pocket near the door, \"I'm sorry to see you here.\"\n\nCheyenne didn't know how to respond to that, so she didn't respond. She just waited. The lady would either leave or talk more. It didn't matter to her which way it went. \n\nNo, that wasn't true. \n\nCheyenne admitted to herself that she hoped that Nancy would stay. She'd been alone this whole time. Having her here for just a little while might be nice, or at least different.\n\n\"Where?\" Cheyenne managed the word then lost the rest of what she was going to say. She'd had a reason for asking, but it had pulled itself back into the fog that covered her mind.\n\n\"The bus stop.\" Nancy smiled just for a moment, \"Down on Forty-First. Used to see you there every once in a while. You were heading to the community college, I think. I wouldn't expect you to remember but a few months ago you paid my fare when I couldn't. Some asshole stole my purse while I was in the bathroom at a restaurant. I had no way to get home and you paid for me.\"\n\nCheyenne blinked her heavy eyes, \"I don't remember that.\"\n\n\"Like I said, I'd be surprised if you did.\" Nancy patted Cheyenne's leg. Cheyenne didn't feel it at all, \"You were just being kind to an old lady. I think you're the sort of person who does that a lot.\"\n\nCheyenne cried. She didn't really understand why she was crying. there was just too much. Too much that had happened to her, too much that had hurt her, too much that had disappointed her and crushed her down day after day. It all hit her when Nancy said something nice to her. No one had said a nice thing to her in a long, long time.\n\nWhen she finished crying she found that she was being held; held in the way that her mother had never held her. She didn't know why this stranger, this person she didn't even remember, was holding her like this. She didn't understand how buying someone a bus fare would bring them to her room like this. She didn't understand anything anymore-\n\n-but she loved Nancy for it. "
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[WP] As the only astronaut in the moon base, you thought that you were the only surviving human when nuclear war broke out on Earth. However, you received a transmission from a nuclear submarine today. The crew managed to survive the apocalypse by hiding in the bottom of the ocean. | 602 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"The others... what to say about the others, other than well, there are no others. Reznitsky and Casimirov shot Yuen and Jun, before Adler and Jones got to them. Cost them all their lives, following orders to secure the base did. \n\nMe, Rivera, Njadwe, Becker, and Commander Willem were left to watch as the destruction unfolded. 28 Earth days on, 28 Earth days off. I think it was a brushfire war on the dark continent that escalated it all, allies being called in, just like the bloody Great War. Then, when those fucking madmen nuked Jerusalem, all bets were off. Mecca, Tel Aviv, Rome, Tehran, Islamabad, Delhi, Beijing, London, Seoul, Pyongyang, Tokyo, Moscow, Washington, Paris, Berlin, even fucking Toronto. \n\nWe watched as 4/5 of the world buried itself under ash and death, the angel spreading its wings over billions. Only a few small places left untouched, ones that were too far from armies and too unimportant to fight over, which, considering some of the things that were fought over, is saying something.\n\nThose that could holed up. The rest starved. And we watched. The Conflict had taken the Soyuz dome, and with it, most of our refining capabilities and machine shop. Fucking Russians used a godsdamned claymore when they were caught with their pants down, steel balls ricocheting off the walls at tens of kilometers, the dome inevitably punctured. \n\nRivera lost it when the ash cloud reached Cancun, whimpering about how she had three children and her whole family down there. We tried to reassure her that they were fine, but she became hysteric. We sedated her, but it must not have been enough, because the next we knew she had vented herself and twelve cubic gallons of air onto the surface.\n\nWillem watched placidly as the nuclear fires turned into storms and ravaged the Savanna, eventually reaching Cape Town and burning it down like Hamburg in the war. Found him hanging in the park from a date palm in the arboretum, the names of his husband and children carved into the bark.\n\nThe commander just handled their deaths in that military fashion of his, and kept on going. Njadwe and I went along too, if only to keep our minds off of what had happened, preferring to be busy when we were turned Terra-side. I helped Njadwe keep the crop growing, the water filtration and oxygen systems going while he commander kept everything else going, his doctorates in engineering coming very much in handy. He always maintained the shuttles for takeoff, hoping that we would get a signal from somewhere we could return to safely. \n\nWE talked many times with the ISS crew, all three of them that were left. They choose to evacuate when the last of their rations ran out, taking an exit pod Earth side on a trajectory for Borneo, where one of them was from. We had offered to pick them up and join us, but they politely declined. Said they wanted to feel the grass under their feet one last time.\n\nAfter that it was just busywork, everyone doing chores to avoid looking at the sickly planet. Eventually Njadwe and I chose to be busy together, and after a while, we learned that she was pregnant. We were delighted and fearful, knowing that the effects of lower gravity would almost certainly bar the child from going to Earth if they wanted to. But we decided to go ahead, because of all that we thought they might represent. Hope, in a time and place of darkness.\n\nThat's when it all went bad. Njadwe was in the machine shop with the commander when a micro meteoroid hit the patch square on, ruptured it and killed them. All three, gone in an instant. I had been out looking at the rigolith harvesting machines and didn't even know until I got back. The last human connection that I'd had, gone, in a trillion to one shot.\n\nSo tell me, Commander, sitting down there in your little submarine, surrounded by friends, in contact with the last remnants of humanity, do you think I have any reason to go on?",
"362 days.\n\nThat’s how long I waited.\n\nI waited 362 days to hear from someone.\n\nThe silence was deafening. The whispers of the generators spoke to me as if they were my only friends. I heard the news through intercom. War broke out on Earth. The tension never left. I thought it would get resolved by the time I got back, but I guess that was just wishful thinking. \n\nI was too proud to die.\n\nI thought about ending it. I really did. I could not convince myself though. Each day of those 362, I stared blankly into space. I wondered why I could not let go. I thought about my family, how scared they must have been. My daughter would have turned four last month, we named her Abby. She was going to be something I swear. My wife looked at me one day and told me so, and who was I to disagree.\n\nI saw them, not real, but…real enough.\n\nThey walked the moon, together. Abby danced, she was always light on her feet. Her first word was “tap” and we thought she would be a dancer in that moment. April stood there and watched. I wanted to join them so badly, I could hear their pleas. April telling me to come outside. I put my hand on the window and laughed so hard I cried. That was only three weeks after the fact.\n\nDay 362, they ringed.\n\n“Hello, this is Admiral Huntington, British Navy, anyone there?”\n\nI leaped from my bed when I heard the voice. I thought my mind was playing tricks on me again. I did not believe what I was hearing. It was a human, a real human, not just some cruel joke of the mind. \n\n“Hello, this is Admiral Huntington, do you copy?”\n\n“Hello” I said.\n\n“Thank God, we’ve got someone. Who is this?”\n\n“This is astronaut Ted Walton” I said.\n\n“Jesus, how the hell did we get you?”\n\n“You weren’t going to get anyone else” I said.\n\nMorbid curiosity set in and I wondered how exactly these people survived, after so many died? I thought, perhaps, society was not completely gone, but then again, I was being optimistic. I probed further.\n\n“Where are you?” I asked.\n\n“300 metres below sea level wondering the same thing. The whole bloody world’s gone dark.”\n“Well, Admiral, I’m afraid you already now why” I said.\n\n“Sadly, I do, but our orders are to find whatever life is left on the planet, but I guess you are confirmation that are mission is complete.”\n\n“Sorry to burst your bubble Admiral, but I’m not on the planet” I said.\n\n“Then where the hell are you?”\n\n“Luna Twelve” I said.\n\n“You’re in space! How did you even make it this long?”\n\n“I could ask you the same question” I said.\n\n“Well, there’s no real use now, we’re almost out of supplies and morale is low. I’m afraid we cannot be of any assistance to you. Unless you’re interested in a nuclear warhead, gently used.”\n\n“In fact, that might just be what I’m looking for right now” I said.\n\n“You know I was joking, right?”\n\n“Listen, I’ve been here for almost three years. My family is gone. Houston is gone. The least you can do is send me on my way” I said.\n\n“There’s no guarantee it will even reach you. Besides, most of the men agreed never to launch it.”\n\n“Please, don’t make me beg. Just send it here, and you can forget about it” I said.\n\nI had a death wish. There was no real point to living anymore. There was no real use in talking about it. I wanted out, and I finally had a way to do it. I just needed them to cooperate.\n\n“Look, we both know there is no real saving in this scenario, but the least we can do is end our misery together” I said.\n\n“I’m sorry Ted, but I’m afraid that cannot be done.”\n\n“Why are you so against it, there’s nothing left to fight for?” I said.\n\n“There is nothing left…except us.”\n\n“That’s exactly why we should end it all” I said.\n\n“No, that’s why we keep going.”\n\nI could not believe the gaul of the Admiral. I though he was delusional. Every fibre of my being wanted to die, and ironically enough the only thing keeping me alive was a world away. There was no getting out of it.\n\n“Then where do we go?”\n\n“We keep going until we reach our end, and then we stop.”\n“I reached my end a long time ago” I said.\n\n“Then why haven’t you stopped?”\n\n“Because I’m too busy talking to you, Admiral” I said.\n\n“Very funny, but I sense there is more to this. Tell me about your family.”\n\n“Why should I tell you anything?” I said.\n\n“I’ll send the warhead if you do.”\n\n“Fine, I had a wife and little girl. They were my life. Everything that was right in this world. I’m upset because I never got to say goodbye. I never got to see my little girl’s face one last time, and I am haunted. I am haunted by their memory, and I have to live with the guilt everyday” I said.\n\n“What holds you back?”\n\n“I’m a coward. I’m a coward who could never admit he was a coward. I sit here in hell everyday and let myself suffer because I’m too scared to walk out the airlock and end it” I said.\n\n“You’re not a coward for wanting to live, you’re the victim of circumstances beyond your control. You mull over death because it’s the only thing you have left, so you sit there and wait for it to come to you. Meanwhile, you live in anticipation of the day you see your family again, even though that day won’t come. You have power over death, and you keep it by staying alive. Remember that. You haven’t stopped because you need to know. Life is not over for you, but sadly it is for us.”\n\n“What do you mean?” I asked.\n\n“We ran out of petrol fifteen minutes ago. The generators will shut down and the entire ship will go dark. I’m afraid there will be no warhead for you.”\n\n“You bastard! You promised me death and you couldn’t give it to me. You’re a coward. You’re a god damn coward!” I said.\n\n“Then I guess I’ll die being a coward for the right reasons, than a hero for the wrong reasons.”\n\n“Listen to me! There has to be some way. Please, please launch the warhead” I said.\n\n“Goodbye, Walton, I’m sorry.”\n\nThat was the last I heard from them. The last I heard from anybody. I was mad for so long after that. I blamed everyone for what happened. There were days where I felt like ending it out of spite. I just could not bring myself to do it. I hated myself. I hated that I was the last one. I remembered what he said though. That I have the power so long as I live. I never chose life, but I was too scared of death to let go. That’s why I’ve stayed alive for this long. It’s now day 678 since I made contact, and I just ran out of food. I guess that’s it for me. I made this my last stand. I went through hell, and I came out the other side. I fought but I lost. At least I can say I went out fighting. At least I can say that. Consider this my last transmission. I’m going home to April and Abby.",
"I sat there stunned, staring at the radio. I keyed the switch again. “Come again?”\n\nStatic, then a response: “I repeat: is this Moon Base Sagan? Is this one of the astronauts? Please respond. This is the USS Columbia.”\n\nFrom behind me I heard a slow chuckle from Mintz. I let go of the key and spun around angrily. “Dude, c’mon. Don’t complicate this!” I waggled my finger at him, where he was on the floor, anyway, smiling around the waxy rigor. One of these days I’m going to have to move him to cold storage with the others. Mintz was a chatty guy, for a dead person, but I guess he was chatty before.\n\n“At some point they are going to figure it out” he whispered. \n\n“Just be quiet, you” I said, turning back to the console, working over the controls. “Uh, hi, Columbia. This is Dr. Lem on… on the moon. Where are you guys? I can’t make out your signal from the surface.”\n\nI was furiously scanning, trying to triangulate. I can’t believe I missed one! Perfect. The radio clattered to life again.\n“We had to bounce our signal off a buoy, and then get it to one of G Comstats. Thank god we found you! How are the other folks up there? I imagine you road everything out unscathed?” \n\nI grunted in the affirmative while I worked. Ok. I could see the sat they were using, even the signal down, but still can’t pinpoint a location under all the nuclear miasma. I sighed, and keyed the channel again.\n\n“Hey Columbia, I’m having a hard time locating you, I mean… I’ve got a general idea, but I don’t have solid coordinates. Can you send me a fix?”\n\n“One second, Doctor. We’re pulling the logs out of the Comsat. And… uh. “\n\nMintz laughed again. “The jig is up, Bob.”\n\n“For Pete’s sake, Mintz, please by quiet? I’m trying to talk, here.”\n\nA different voice from Columbia came on the channel. “Is that Glen? Glen Mintz? Can we talk to him? It’s just we’re seeing some odd network traces from the –“\n\n“I’m sorry, but Mintz is pretty dead. And while I can hear him talking, I assume that’s limited to me. Unless..?” I looked at Mintz, who smiled and shrugged slightly, sinking further into the floor. “…Nope, sorry, folks. “\n\nThere was some snatches of conversations in the background of the radio while I waited. I wasn’t idle, I was still scanning, but anyway. \n\n“Dr. Lem,” a new voice said, “This is Captain Archibald. What happened to Lt. Mintz? Are these network signals from you?”\n\n“If you mean the ones riding the encryption backdoor, yes, that’s from me. I mean I told you guys so many times in those hearings if you put a backdoor in, someone is going to use it, you know? And as for Mintz-“ I glanced over at his, lying there – “he got a bad case of food poisoning. In the sense that I poisoned their food. “\n\nSilence from the Columbia. I figured they didn’t get it. “Do you guys get it?”\n\nArchibald spoke back, slowly. “Robert, why do you need our fix so badly?”\n\nI rolled my eyes. “C’mon guys. The US arsenal only has maybe fifty nukes left. I was really hoping not to use a whole nuke to just take out a sub. If I had a better lock on I could just drop some conventional stuff instead. I mean, “I said, warming up to it, “I’m trying to save the nukes for the pockets of survivors.”\n\nSilence. \n\n“I’m trying to make every shot count, guys. “\n\nSilence, then a click as the radio went dead. Damn. I frowned, looking at the map.\n\n“What’s wrong now?” Mintz gurgled.\n\n“I don’t get it, Glen. I just don’t. You tell the Russians that the A.I. warbots are going to start killing civilians someday, they deploy them anyway, and sure enough! You tell the President that you can’t put encryption backdoors in without leaving a hole open to bad actors, and they do it anyway. You tell the Chinese that auto-triggered nukes are likely to get triggered by anything, an accident, a meltdown someplace, and they do it anyway. I mean, why be a science advisor when nobody will take your advice? Humanity is obviously too dumb to survive.”\n\nI furiously typed and did some math, trying to work out the Columbia’s position. “ I even said the prolonged microgravity was going to cause psychosis in one out of twenty people. And they literally send up twenty people!”\n\nI got busy, typing out the codes for one of the remaining nukes. “I’m not one to say I told you so, normally. But…”\n \nI saw a blinking dot, lighting up with the Columbia’s ident. I smiled, keying in the launch codes. \n\n“I told you so.”\n\n\n\n\n",
"\"Moore? You still with us?\"\n\nMy head was spinning. I squeezed my stress ball reflexively - *squeak squeak*. I caught my wits and pressed the Push-To-Talk button.\n\n\"Yeah\" I coughed out, \"I'm still here\".\n\n\"So, where do we go from here?\"\n\nI looked around the station. My home. I wasn't even halfway through my Freeze-Dried rations. There was enough water for a few more years. I was only on my second read-through of the Stephen King collection.\n\nI could probably squeeze a little more enjoyment out of my next three or four years alone.\n\nI squeezed my stress ball.\n\n\"Have you been to the surface yet?\"\n\nI could practically hear the shake of his head.\n\n\"No. We're not sure if it's inhabitable yet. Based on our calculations prior to descent, it shouldn't be\".\n\n\"I see\".\n\nSo now what? Have radio buddies for the rest of my life? Better than dying alone, but only barely.\n\n\nA shuffling in the base. I flinched and looked around, then sighed. I knew I wouldn't see anyone.\n\n\"Tell me something about Earth\", I braced myself for what was coming.\n\n\"Pardon?\"\n\n\"Anything. Something I wouldn't already know\".\n\n*squeak squeak*\n\nThe line went silent. I held my breath. Was this real, or would his voice disappear like the others?\n\nFinally, after what seemed like an eternity, he responded.\n\n\"We've been working on bouncing and extending our signal since we got here. Since you're the first person we've reached, and well, you're on the moon...it's possible that we are the last humans alive\".\n\nI nodded. I had already reached that same conclusion.\n\n\"That's not something I didn't already know.\"\n\n\"Did you know about the infernos? Or the dust storms?\"\n\nI looked outside the window, at the Planet I had once called my home.\n\nNow stained brown and red. Black clouds encircling the planet. Had I known about the actual climate changes? No. I had suspected many things, but not dust storms.\n\n\"Okay. I just had to check that...\" I hesitated. Would I lose them if I admitted my fears out loud? Would they worry about my mental condition? \"That -\"\n\n\"One more thing Moore. Are you Harry B. Moore? Did you go up with the SpaceZ program a few years ago?\"\n\nMy heart skipped a beat. The hallucinations were indeed getting stronger. There was no other reason a crew at the bottom of the ocean could possibly know who I was. *squeak squeak squeak*\n\n\"Moore?\"\n\nI hesitated. What do I say? *Get the fuck out of my head! Let me rot in peace!*? Was there any combination of words that could restore my mind back to normal? Was it crazy to ask myself that? Was it crazy to ask myself *this*?\n\nI looked around at the Moon Base. Many of the equipment had been damaged upon arrival, the rest fell into a state of disrepair after a few months. I had driven myself crazy trying to teach myself how to get things operational - at first figuratively, but in recent times, literally. The voices, the visions, *her*, they came and went without any rhyme or reason. \n\n\"Moore.\"\n\n\"Still here.\" I finally croaked. The hallucination, the man who couldn't possibly be real, sighed.\n\n\"Well... I'll let her explain it\".\n\nI heard the shuffle of the Radio being handed over. This mirage was getting elaborate. \n\n\"Harry?\"\n\nI dropped the stress ball. Time slowed. The voice sounded just like -\n\n\"...Claire?\"\n\nA moment of silence. Then a sob from the other line.\n\n\"You sound exactly the same.\"\n\nI let the radio fall to my side. I looked back out at the Hellhole that Earth had become. Was her voice a hallucination?\n\n\nNo. After trying so long to remember what she sounded like. That had to be the real thing.\n\nIt was Claire's submarine that had managed to survive the end of the world.\n\n\nAnd I had to get back to Earth to reach her. "
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[WP] You're a teacher and you find out one of your students is God's son (not Jesus). He's a slacker and he's guessing wrong answers on all of the tests. Unfortunately, his word becomes law, and now the universe is changing its history and natural laws. | 143 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"He was a student of mine and at the time I wish it wasn't so. Yet reflecting on it now it seems that he has taught me so much that I wouldn't have it any other way.\n\nTo say he gave me a hard time is putting it mildly. He just didn't fit the \"average mold\" that most of society finds closure in, or prefer engaging with. I guess you could say he was a naughty boy. But allow me to explain the value I got from knowing him and we might reconsider his value.\n\nLife doesn't judge between right and wrong - it just gives you more of what your thoughts and feelings are focused upon in the present. This became very evident in God's son, because although not conventionally a \"good boy\" life gave him everything he spoke. \n\nHe wasn't by any means more special than the rest of the class, he just lived from his heart. While most of us live from the head. But how to tell?\n\nSpeaking from the heart holds no criticism/judgement, it's just pure desire. Like God's son who just spoke about what he wanted and liked and enjoyed without thinking about how, when, where and why. See those are the questions of the head-oriented individuals - asking Life for something yet trying to control every aspect of its realization.\n\nSo was he good or bad, I don't know, you decide for yourself. I'll be living from the heart."
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[removed] | [WP] Time travelling restauranteurs lead to the extinction of the dinosaurs. | 1 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"This post has been removed. All prompt detail must be in the title. Please review the sidebar before posting."
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1,
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"1513107010",
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[WP] Write for me, whatever goes on in your imagination when your listening to your “power song”. The song that makes you feel like you can do anything. | 15 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"Silence is a wonder, \nLeaving me to ponder,\nThe power of a lack of sound. \nMusic that beats to the rhythm of my thoughts,\nFlowing within me,\nA glimpse into the existence of a battle well-fought. \nThe piano stops,\nThe violin on hold,\nOh, I wonder,\nWhere'd the silence go? ",
"The wind carries a calmness on it. The village silently sleeps, unaware. The sea whispers against the rocks on the cliffside. \n\nThe young maiden is the only name she's been given. The village is cursed by her. Wind blows through sails faster after she visits. The tides more calm, the fishing more fruitful. The plants grow stronger. The very village itself appears to breathe out the poison accumulated between her visits. \n\nBut so few hear her wails and cries as she passes through. The ocean's whispers become shouts of agony, crashing into the rocks violently. The wind whips up dust and dirt, blowing clothes off lines. The fish jump out of the waves as the ocean roils. The plants shy away as she walks past. Her tour ends as she falls off the cliff and into the ocean below. She leaves a black ink on the cliff edge whose trail gets closer and closer to the village each passing visit. Few have seen the torment of nature she brings before the calm. Fewer still venture to the cliff sides and only I notice the trail.\n\n The village calls it simple good fortune. Fools. \n\nNo one believes my tales of the the black trail and the maiden who walks it. The dangers she poses to the village. No one believes a entity could be so malevolent if it brings such good fortune. \n\nThe trail almost touches the edge of the village now. I predict she will walk the trail again tonight. \n\nI watch vigilantly, she walks slowly. I hear her wails. The inky black can be seen now creeping into the village. \n\nHer pace quickens, she diverts from the path into a home. She emerges with a child. She runs now, the inky black trail now carving it's way through the village. Branches extending into each home, the ink crawling up the sides, infecting the plants. \n\nI follow her towards the cliff as best I can. She jumps into the ocean below with the child. She is gone. \n\nI look back towards the village, the darkness of the trail only spreading. The wind does not die down, the oceans do not stop roiling, the fish jump for a moment and then float listlessly on the surface. \n\nI fall to my knees near the edge of the cliff. A great lightning bolt cracks across the sky. Rain falls heavy and I wail loudly. \n\nThe village sleeps, unaware. \n"
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[WP] It’s 1958, a nuclear bomb, much larger than the ones dropped on Japan, detonated over South Carolina. The USA has been changed forever. | 110 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"\"Quickly shut the door the shockwave is incoming!!!\" A group of guards in blue uniforms are pressing buttons and pushing people farther into the bunker that will resist the nuclear radiation and the forces of the bomb. The door shuts with a loud bang only seconds before the shockwave hits the people who were running for the door of the bunker. People begin crying and searching for loved ones among the crowd as the guards begin handing out clothing and water.\n\nOn the catwalks above the crowd a man steps into the light and speaks up silencing the crowd. \"Hello everyone can I have silence please.... Thank you my name is James Nugent and I'll be your overseer here and I welcome you to vault 152.\"",
"Day 0\n\nI listened to the radio, staring at nothing, hands clenched. I couldn’t stop listening. None of us could.\n\n“We’re bringing information as quick as we can. It’s undecided as to who dropped the bomb, and if this is connected to Russia-\n\nThis wasn’t supposed to happen here. The war ended 10 years ago, this wasn’t supposed to happen here. This only happened in Japan, maybe Korea, or Vietnam. One of the Yellow countries, not South Carolina, *this wasn’t supposed to happen here.*\n\n“Daniel, what information do we have for sure right now?\"\n\n“Before we go on, a quick reminder to our listeners: stay safe. Get inside. If you have not already evacuated to a shelter, please do so now. Your very life may be at risk.” \n\nI brushed my curly hair back nervously. One second I’d been driving back home, then I almost hit the family running past, then I was getting pulled into the bunker with a bunch of strangers in Alabama. \n\n“Than you for that, Daniel. Do we know anything new yet?”\n\nThere’s no way he got hit. Maybe he took a sick day and stayed home, or decided to go on a vacation to Hawaii, or he ran away to MIT and met a good girl like his parents always wanted. This was probably the only day when I wouldn’t have been angry if he’d done it. I gave out a little chuckle and a thin smile. There’s no *way* he was in Greensboro today.\n\n“Very little to report on that hasn’t been said already, Christian. At 5:12, the bomb was dropped by a still unkown entity near Greensboro, South Carolina. Every building within a 2.3 mile radius was obliterated, with about a 3.2 mile radius still doing very severe damage-\n\nHe could’ve been anywhere. There’s 50 states in America, and he just happened to be in South Carolina today. Not California, or Texas, or anywhere significant. Of all the days to visit a completely irrelevant state, he had to choose August 31st. My hand ran through my hair, faster and faster, I grabbed tighter and tighter.\n\n“-Everyone within the radius has, unfortunately, perished. That includes the President of the United States, the Vice President, and his wife, all who were visiting the town for-\n\nI was going to be back soon. If I hadn’t got a flat, I would’ve been there with him today. If the executives hadn’t delayed the meeting, I’d have been laying in bed with him, asking for one more kiss. If I’d stepped on the gas just a little harder, I’d have been right there, and we would’ve slow danced, held each other close, and stared out the window as the sky turned to fire and the bomb would’ve took us both-\n\n“Darling, stop!”\n\nI whipped my head, and met eyes with an old woman, her hand on shoulder. “What?” I howled in her face. “What do you want?”\n\nShe backed away. “I’m sorry, it’s just… your hair…”\n\nI was suddenly aware of my hands, and the tufts of hair I held in them.\n\nI felt a pain on my head. I reached up and touched it. There wasn’t any hair there now. Just pain.\n\nThat was all I had left.\n\nAt that moment, my body gave in. Tears flooded down my cheeks, as I collapsed into the hard concrete floor. He was gone. Someone had dropped a bomb on him, and he was gone in seconds. He probably didn’t even feel the pain. He probably didn’t even know someone dropped a bomb. Just a loud noise, a flash of light, and he was dust. Maybe that’s how God takes pictures. He snaps the sinners with a nuke, and sends them to hell. After what he and I did, it made a helluva lot more sense than Russians.\n\nIf he died because God hated him for his sins, why was I still here?\n\nThat was when I realized I didn’t deserve to be alive.\n\nI whispered those words through my tears. I said it softly, so softly only I could hear it, even in the small, concrete bunker.\n\nMy sobbing stopped, and I realized I’d been the only noise besides the radio. The silence was deafening. I stared across the bunker, looking at where the old lady was sitting. Laying on my side, the bunker looked different.\n \nInstead of being on the ground, we all sat stuck to the wall, with down now being where the entrance was. A bunch of inverted, paranoid weirdos somehow stuck to the sides as they waited to hear more news about the bomb.\n\nI would’ve thought it was funny if I didn’t hate myself.\n\nI said the words a bit louder.\n\n“I don’t deserve to be alive.”\n\nThe old lady looked towards me. She cautiously moved closer. “What was that?”\n\nI sat back up, my butt firmly pressed against the wall. I was still distant, not entirely inside the bunker. “I don’t deserve to be alive.” I said it with more purpose, more resolute that it was true. I knew it had to be true. He was dead, and I wasn’t.\n\nThat’s not fair.\n\nThe old lady moved even closer, and placed her hand on my shoulder. “Oh, you don’t mean that, you’re so young. Come here…”\n\nI turned my face towards hers, slowly. I met her gaze, and looked at her eyes. I looked at her with the gaze of a dead person walking. I took in a deep breath, and with all of the meager strength I had left, I resigned to her.\n\n“I don’t… deserve to be alive.” The tears came back. My body racked with them, the tears coming all the way from my toes up through my eyes. I was so weak, so weak without him. \n\n“Shhhhhh, shhhhhh, come here. It’ll be alright.” She pulled me into an embrace, and my head rested on her shoulder. She smelled like peaches.\n\n“We protected each other. We were always there for each other, we were all we had, and now…” I wrapped my arms around her. I squeezed as hard as I could. “I don’t deserve to be alive.”\n\n“Oh, no, don’t say that. I know it’s hard.” She started patting my back, the way grandmas do. It reminded me of my own and I started crying more, my tears soaking her blouse. “I lost my husband, you know. He died in a car accident 5 years ago. Losing someone you love is hard, I know.” She kept rubbing my back, soft and warm. “What’s your name, son?”\n\nI lifted my head from her shoulder. “William,” I said softly.\n\n“And what was her name, William? What was your girl’s name?”\n\nThe question brought a smile to my lips. It used to make me panic, and I would always come up with something on the spot, making sure no one found out about us. That was before the bomb. That was before we both died.\n\nAnd after you die, it doesn’t matter who you loved.\n\n“Michael.” His name kissed my lips. It felt good. “His name is Michael.”\n\nThe old lady stopped patting, and the bunker was quiet again.\n"
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[WP] You are called upon to make the next great underdog fighter movie by Hollywood. You have complete creative control... with one exception. That being, that the sport in the movie has to be either Judose or Pillow fighting MMA. (Note: these are both actual sports) | 3 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"I was told to make money,\n\nAnd making money was easy. \n\nA low budget film was all I needed\n\nAnd two girls with pillows and chi chis. \n\n\nBut who could’ve seen \n\nThe twist about to unfold. \n\nThe fighters grabbed heads of hair, \n\nTight like The Mountain’s hold. \n\nI made the money quite easily,\n\nBut where’s the love? \n\nOh it’s in the hotel rooms of\n\nhookers and their CEOs above."
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[WP] Humanity finally meets the existence called "God". Our first reaction? "How can we kill it?" | 7 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"The world started with a flash, but today, it would end with a bang. It wasn't an easy decision, nor was it a whole one. There were dissenters, mostly the rich, who didn't have to slum with the degenerate masses. It was time to be honest though, this world was shit. \n\nLobbyists and young hopefuls cried about how we can change the world if we only try, how things can get better only when we decide for them to be. A real hopeful message, and true maybe a few hundred years ago. Now though? There's so much smog you can't see but a few feet in front of you, it's a hazard just to go outside, but to stay inside costs half of a fortune, and yet there never seems to \"be enough space\". \n\nThe world lost all its light a long time ago, and things were going ever dimmer after the big crash which tanked any and every electrical system. One thing we did have is music, and that was nice, but you can't build a world on songs, not when no-ones willing to listen. \n\nNothing will grow, nothing will be birthed, and nothing will die. Even death gave up on this seemingly god forsaken planet. Of course we had seen this coming for ages yet were either too afraid, or too stupid to stop it, it wasn't even too late, it was far beyond it. There was no-one left who could even remember a time when it wasn't. There's one thing we were wrong about though, there was still a god here, it just didn't care. \n\nIt was old, wrinkled, and green, with a babies body supported by a dark wicker cane, it was roughly the size of a damned -zilla with equally slick, wet, and course scales. Before death left, they had told us why and what was happening, we were wrong to think god shaped our world, it was our world which shaped our god, we had destroyed it, forgotten empathy, and in turn so did our protector.\n\nDeath told us there was no point in them being here anymore, they only spurred natural disasters and sickness but we the humans would be the ones to kill ourselves, though it wouldn't be short, and it would likely be quite painful. Death also told us of an alternative, we could revert the world, start over, there was no guarantee we wouldn't make the same mistakes, but at least there was a chance, all we had to do was find a way to end the reign of our current god, so a new one could take hold. \n\nAs they said this death smiled, well, if you can call the personification of an abysmal void capable of smiling, perhaps it had ulterior motives but it hardly mattered, any reign, any god, any world would have to be better than this hopeless pit. So we only had one question, \"How do we kill it?\" "
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[WP] Every baby is taken away by the government and returned when they are ten years old. They never remember what happened in those years, but they always recognize their parents. You, however, remember everything. And those aren't your parents. | 1,408 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"It’s a similar room to one we had in the camp. It is grimy but bright, walls are covered with dirty white and glasses of the window in the middle of the wall are as dirty as ours in the camp. Somehow even the furniture is the same but this one it is a bit older and more used. Yet, the strangest of these all is this man who looks like doctor Jasper. I wonder if they are sending me back. \n\n“So, you are saying those people are not your parents.” \n\n“Yes. They are not.” I reply, though I realize I might be risking going back.\n\n“And, how do you know?” \n\nWithout me realizing word escapes my mouth and I utter “I remember.” \n\n“Remember? “\n\n“I remember the woman who was crying the day they took me.” And every time I say it picture comes to my mind. Yet everyone Is telling me I am wrong. \n\n“Can it be that your memory might be wrong?” \n\n“I saw her in my dreams almost every night. “ I realize how little control I have on what I say. \n\n“What else do you remember? “\n\n“I remember my first day there and every other day after.” And I do, I mean who would forget that. I remember every single bit of it, from the morning to the night, everything. \n\n“Did you like being there?’’\n\n“Did I like being there?” Did I what? I think he doesn’t understand where I come from. \n\n“Did you enjoy the time spent there in the camp? “ \n\nEnjoy?! . \n\n“Yes, I did.” \n\n“What was it that you enjoyed the most?” \n\nOkay I can talk myself out of this. \n\n“I enjoyed everything.” Since it is \"what\",I can say everything I , or nothing. But, can you do something with nothing? What is nothing? Is it just nothing of everything? But that, if we have everything and then we don’t. What if we do not have anything in the beginning, then, what is nothing? Ah, my nose is bleeding again. \n\n“Do you feel fine?” \n\n“What?” \n\n“Do you want to go wash your face and come back? We can continue in a bit.” \n\n“No, I do not want to. We can continue “\n\n“Ok as you wish. So, can you tell me your usual day at the camp? \"\n\n“At the beginning it was different. All kids were together most of the day doing all different things, but it didn’t last long. They separated us in my second year and ever since I was alone. With my screen, which only taught me things, so I was alone I can say. But that changed too, by the time I was already seven they put me in a group with four other kids. We never separated after that and the screen left. I never saw it again. ” and how happy I was about it. \n\n“Screen taught you things? What kind of things did it teach you?” \n\n“It taught me everything I know. I saw it every night before I went to sleep and every morning when I woke up.” \n\n“Can you recall what you saw on the screen? “\n\n“During the day all sorts of things, questions from physics, mathematics, history, you name it. But during the night before I would go to sleep I saw different pieces of the labyrinth but never the whole, and on the background there was a lullaby, I could never see who was singing but the voice sounded familiar and I remembered all of it.” I was sure it was my mother singing but now I am not.\n\n“What was the labyrinth? “ \n\n“I didn’t understand the meaning of these puzzles till the day I had to solve it. On my ninth year, one early morning, Dr. Jasper came and took me with the other kids from my group in a forest, where he left us in different spots and told us to find a way out. Then I understood the meaning of pictures I was seeing all my life because the place I was put was the same, so I knew my out. Well, only the beginning, because in a little while I found myself in part of the forest which I have never seen and it went like this till the end of the puzzle.” \n\n“But you found your way out without knowing the way, I mean all of it. “ \n\n“Yes, and not only me, all the other kids were there when I arrived.” \n\n“And what happened after?”\n\n“After we were separated and I never saw them again.”\n\n“What were you doing after your separated from the other kids?”\n\n“After our separation everything stopped, I didn’t have to attend classes, I didn’t have to work, nothing. All I had to do was to take my medicine three times a day and read or watch anything I wanted. Till the day they brought me here to these people.” \nI think I've said too much. \n",
"I adjusted my scope, trough it I could see the never-ending forest and artwork of green, the leaves of the trees singing as the wind caressed them, how much time has passed since I felt like this? since I felt like my heart was about to burst from my chest. there was nothing out there that made me feel like this. Whatever it is that humans called happiness was something that I barely experimented.\n\nAnd this, *this* place made feel that way, again after many, *many* years. I'm sure that my partners feel the same way, I could hear them, playing in the forest, their minds and bodies moving like never before like they just woke up from a dream.\n\nI adjusted my scope once again and changed direction to look somewhere else, there were birds flying in the air, something happened in that direction. I started trembling, but not out of fear, but out of excitement, how I missed this feeling, the feeling of facing a worthy opponent, of the hunt.\n\nAfter so many years of experimenting with the children of the earth and placing them in an environment where they could be treated as swords and be sharpened, after so many *dreadful* years they finally did it, at the cost of every other child in the orphanage and the foster parents. But one out of a hundred was more than enough for me\n\nA small figure appears on my vision -Astra- she was on top of a tree, her clothes tattered, her long golden hair floating, ignoring gravity, she had a halo on top of her head that was shining in the colors of the rainbow, she was looking south with eyes the same color of her hair and on her hand was a grey creature, with long claws and his face bashed in, bleeding from it and other injuries.\n\n\"Theodore...\" I whispered the name of the grey is \"oh what a fool you were\" I aim at the clouded figure, she was short, but that didn't mean she was any less dangerous. it only takes half a second for to aim at her head and another half a second to pull the trigger. light starts to accumulate at the tip of the railgun and in the next instant the bullet is fired, the bullet flies through the air, burning everything in its path, and then the place where she used to be exploded, the artwork of green is stained red and yellow\n\nBut it wasn't over. Theodore flies toward me, or it would be more precise to say he was shot towards me, but it was a poorly aimed shot. She still had a long way to go, that girl. Theodore falls to my left and explodes in the process, staining everything with blood and gore.\n\n\"Beautiful, as I thought that wasn't enough to stop you huh?\" I said, I moved around the trees expecting her to appear at any moment, but disappointingly she didn't, it seems she had her eyes set on another hunter. \"but still, this is acceptable, it will take a lot to bring her down, isn't that right Theo?\" I laughed and looked at the corpse of Theodore, well to more precise, the entrails that were hanging on a branch. well, he was always a quiet one, death didn't change that.\n\nI kept running through the forest, it will take a while before the railgun reloads itself, so I started looking through gaps in the trees hiding my presence and following the sound of explosions in the distance, all while seeing the corpses of other fallen Hunters. There were at least a hundred of us and so far she has taken more than half us for what I've seen. it seems she was capable of fending off railgun bullets and she recently learned how to fly or at least float in the air for a while.\n\nAll the odds were against us. If she keeps evolving everything will lead to our annihilation. But I didn't mind, all I cared about was resume the hunt and either be killed by her or have her face on my wall.\n\n\n\n",
"My senses return. I'm dragged from a windowless van. The sting of the sun radiates through the sensory nerves in my eyes and send a shock into the back of my head. It feels like years since I've seen the sun. Even the smell of dirt and decaying organic matter that surrounds me are extremely potent. I struggle to find my feet beneath me, I am being dragged across a fenced in courtyard. I see towers, back lit by the enormous helio god like figure that envelopes the sky. Where am I? These things seem so familiar but, it is all overwhelming. \n\n\nI am brought to a grayish building. Solid with its form, there are no windows to its soul, it has no eyes. From confusion, I slowly slip into fear of the unknown. The heavy steel doors click and clack before they let us enter. The lights flicker down the hall, the dull hum of photons racing back and forth inside their manufactured cages gets louder and louder. It seems like this sound is inside me. My heart begins to race and my palms dampen. I am grasping for air and my vision becomes blurred. A commotion suddenly erupts next to me, another door. I am shoved in and before I realize what has happened, it shuts behind me.\n\n\nThere is an angelic woman standing at a podium at the front of the room. Her pale skin seems to glow brighter than the courtyard. My heart slows its racing and my palms become arid once again. She has a calming look on her face, a look of nurturing. She is soothing without saying a word. She tells me, \"Welcome Connor, will you please be seated? We are about to begin.\" Confused but with a bit of euphoria from the previous panic attack, I comply. Her words cover my thoughts like the warmth I felt from that place between the van and this cold grey building. \"Today is the last day of your schooling. These past few weeks you have all learned so much, and we are very proud of you.\" says the woman. An enthusiastic clap comes from the surrounding kids. \"Your parents are very excited to see you and have missed you very much. Be sure to give them a great big hug when you see them.\" Another thunderous clap from the children fills the room. \n\nSingle file we are led down the humming corridors. No one speaks. Only the tapping of the leather stitched to the underside of each child's shoes break the agony of those humming lights. I can't seem to shake this uneasy feeling that is growing inside of me. I feel as if I don't belong. The innocent faces of my counterparts don't seem to have that problem though. They are filled with excitement and joy at the prospect of reuniting with their parents once again. Our parents?! How long has it been since I've seen my parents. It feels like I don't even know them, I don't feel like I've been here a couple weeks. I feel like I have never been anywhere before. A blank slate, feeling all these emotions for the first time.\n\nLed into another room, we are met with a faceless crowd. Each child rushes to the arms of loving and enthusiastic grown ups. I stand my ground, as if my feet were stuck into the linoleum floor, roots of uncertainty paralyze my movement. I see a couple timidly walking towards me. I am still frozen in place. They slowly approach and I manage to free one foot from the bondage of fear. \"Connor, did you have fun at camp this year?\" they both say in unison. How do they know my name? Who the hell are these people? I feel my heart begin its sprint again, as if it were catching its breath and waiting to start another lap around the track. My hands moisten and I can barely hear over the pounding of my heart inside my ears. I manage to utter only a few words, \"I had a lot of fun.\" \"That's fantastic, are you ready to head home? We got you a couple surprises and your room is all clean for you.\" a cheerful man assures me. I stare at him with curiosity. He doesn't look very old, slim in nature and dressed in a dark blue suit and a thin tie. I nod with what I can conjure of a smile. The woman reaches for my hand, I hesitate to grab it. I am at a loss of words, but I can't deny the instinctual feeling of skepticism and survival. These people want to take care of me and I don't know where I am, but I need to get out of this building. We head for the door.\n\nThe landscape is rushing by. The colors of red, yellow, brown and green blur together like a Van Gough masterpiece. The autumn colors ignite the countryside. We are speeding down a country road. Chopin's Nocturnes lullaby me to ease. My eyes begin to heavy and my breathing slows. I contort my body into a relaxed state. I drift away into a melodic sleep. A flash of light slashes in front of me. I feel that same piercing feeling violate its way through my head once again. There is a man in a mask over me, I am frozen, unable to react outside of my own mind. I am terrified. There is a melodic beeping somewhere in the distance, and that humming. That torturous humming has found its way around me again. I am panicked and struggling but nothing is moving except the rapid movement of my eyes. I feel a tearing sensation in my chest, an intense heat slowly moving its way down my sternum, the pain is unbearable, white hot agony. I finally lift my head up and let out a violent gut wrenching scream. A flash of light slashes away the pain. I am greeted back to reality, with the melting colors of natures final death note racing outside my window. Chopin's E flat Major sings that final note with such beauty. The two strangers seated in front of me unaware of anything but the road ahead.",
"It was a baby’s cry that changed everything. Truth echoed from wails of sorrow. I’ve heard that people used to cry to create an “emotional equilibrium,” that is, to balance out a strong negative emotion with a positive one or vice-versa. I’m not sure if that’s true. But I want it to be. Otherwise I don’t know how I can survive knowing what I know now.\n\nAlo said the Leviathan didn’t always exist. No one knows how long it’s been since the Great War, but Alo said the leaders of the Old World destroyed the planet in a rage of ignorance and unmitigated stupidity. He wasn’t fully aware of all the details, just that great bombs started to fall when mankind could no longer rationalize or preserve their posterity. Ignorance made them worse than animals. \n\nOut of the ashes of the massive conflagration, a proposal was drafted from a new band of ten leaders that ignorance could never run rampant in societies again. Over time, governments rose and fell because people kept breaking the rules. And then it changed.\n\nThe Leviathan was created. It ruled through fear and intimidation, Alo said, but also stifled ignorance by instilling it in the masses.\n\nThe Leviathan engineered a chemical out of the same bombs that destroyed the Old World and systemically injected into every born in their society. Alo said it implanted preconceived memories into the brain so no one would know who they really were, and also left them open to suggestion. From birth until ten years of age, children were fed a disciplinarian curriculumn that manufactued obedience. \n\nI asked Alo what ignorance really was then; he said it’s the removal of free thought. It seemed like a bag of bricks landed on me when I first heard that. \n\n“Alo, if we have free thought like the Old World did, won’t we destroy ourselves.”\n\nHe couldn’t answer that. And that scared me even more. \n\n“I rescued you so that you could make your own decisions. That is what makes you human. Those people in your covel were not your mother and father, at least...not really.”\n\n“What” I hesitated to say more.\n\n“No one can really be your parents, your guardian, your protector if they can only think what they’ve been programmed to think.”\n\nI grew enraged. “So why rescue me! Actually, screw that, how is this rescuing! I have no one now, no one... and I can never re-enter society.”\n\n“You’re not alone. Come, let me show you something.”\n\nHe grabbed my arm and led me to an underground facility. I was so distraught that I couldn’t see the light radiating off the sea of babies at first. They were connected to tubes which ran back to a computer monitor. \n\n“These are the children harvested for Leviathan’s use. You were once here not too long ago.”\n\nTheir faceless expressions horrified me. The pale, blotchless demeanor made them look dead. \n\nUnplug the tube. Unplug the tube. Unplug the tube! Too many thoughts raced through my head, but that one remained.\n\nI ran towards the closest infant and ripped the tube off. I stood there for what seemed an eternity while the baby slowly started to toss and turn. And it cried.\n\nA million thoughts surged through my head, but as I saw the baby cry I realized that neither my parents, nor my school, nor anyone else I knew ever feigned any sign of emotion. But this one did. And I didn’t have to say it, but I knew then why Alo did it.\nI knew why free thought mattered.\n\nI turned around towards Alo but he was not there. Suddenly, light streamed through the facility and poured over the babies stronger than I had ever seen anything before. They were changing, dissolving, reanimating, and then...repeat. \n\nMy head felt unbelievably heavy. And slowly, ever so slowly, I felt the rush of the injection swell through me.",
"We said our goodbyes in the playground. It was a large one, spacious enough to accommodate a hundred of us. I had never heard so much laughter before – it was as if every single one of us was determined to make the very best of our remaining minutes together. No one spoke of the after, lost as we were in the present.\n\nThe signboard lit up to indicate that it was my turn to leave. I retrieved my backpack, then had to fight off the ferocious hugs thrown my way. It was difficult to keep the tears from flowing.\n\n“Goodbye Jason!” they yelled. “Farewell! May we remember!”\n\n“Farewell!” I said in return. “Farewell Jenny, Ben, Huson, Timmy… and all the rest of you! May we remember!”\n\nMay we remember… it was such a pitiful salve, but burning hearts seek whatever comfort there is. After all, we all knew that no one would remember anything of the Compound once we left it. The Memory Machine would take care of that.\n\nThere was a path which led from the playground to the Departure Lounge, and it was there that the guards wished me well, clapped me on the back. I liked them. They were our friends, our playmates. They administered the stern hand from time to time, but it was all for our own good. \n\nMrs Langton was waiting for me at the end of the line, the Memory Machine fitted snugly in her right hand.\n\n“Ready?” she asked.\n\n“I am.”\n\n“You’ve been great here, Jason. You did us all proud.”\n\n“May we remember, Mrs Langton. Thank you for everything.”\n\nI closed my eyes, then felt her touch the Memory Machine to my forehead. A tingle passed through me, sending my toes into a twitch. It took only a second, then she patted my shoulder, and motioned for me to enter the Departure Lounge.\n\nI turned, one last time, to look upon the place I had called home since I was born. \n\n*Strange*, I thought. *That’s Jenny there… and Ben… Huson, Timmy… I still… remember who they… are?*\n\n“Please, Jason, take a seat. They’ve been waiting for you.”\n\nIt was Mr Boule, the principal of our Compound. I shouldn’t have remembered who he was too, and I couldn’t help but freeze. \n\nHad the Memory Machine failed?\n\n“Oh, don’t be worried, Jason,” Mr Boule said. “It always takes some time for you to adjust. Take your time, and when you’re ready, we just need to show your parents what you've achieved here at the Compound. Ready?”\n\nI stumbled into the chair, too nervous to even meet the eyes of the couple sitting opposite me. Should I confess, tell Mr Boule to run me through the Wipe again? Or should I keep quiet, hoard the memories which I thought were forfeit? What would happen to me if they found out?\n\n“Jason, your parents opted for you to be Educated in Biology. Tell me, what does the human digestive system entail?”\n\nThe answer rolled off my tongue, as easily as if I had been asked to count from one to ten. \n\n“Good, good. Now, they also asked for you to be fluent in languages. How would you enquire after someone’s well-being in say… German?”\n\nI gave him what he was looking for, and Mr Boule smiled.\n\n“Good job, Jason! Let’s show them your grasp of Social Studies. When was the Compound founded, and why?”\n\n“In 2348, and to ensure the survival of our great country,” I said. “We were small, boxed in by powerful neighbours. Our leaders saw that we had no natural resource but our young. And so the Compound came to ensure that every child was given the best Education available, in the shortest possible time. We are Educated here, then returned to our families.”\n\nThe lady spoke then, and that was the first time I had a good look at them. They looked just as they did in the photos shown to me during the Education process – early thirties, strong features, thick dark hair. They were the first generation of our country to willingly hand over their newborns, and I could see traces of doubt in their eyes. \n\n“Did the… Memory Wipe hurt you, Jason?” she asked.\n\n“No, but even if it did, it was necessary,” I said, automatically. How many times had we asked this same question of our teachers? “It is to prevent our enemies from discovering the Education process we employ. All our memories, gone, except for what has been imprinted through the Education process. It is for the good of the country.”\n\n“Thank you, Mr Boyle,” the man beside her said. “That’s quite enough for us. May we leave now? Jason looks like he would really appreciate some rest.”\n\n“Of course! Be my guest!”\n\nThey held out their hands to me, and Mrs Langton’s words to me, from a life I had left behind, floated back…\n\n*Your parents have passed on,* she had said. *An accident, I think. But don’t worry, we’ve found a couple who have waited years to adopt you. This is what they look like. I’ve got files and files on them too, if you’re curious.*\n\n*Should you even be telling me this?* I had asked.\n\n*You won’t remember a thing,* she had said, with a twinkle in her eyes.\n\nI looked at the couple who were to be my parents. I thought back to the multiple applications they had sent in for vetting, the endless interviews they were subjected to. I recalled the courses they had to complete too, the tests they had to ace, to prove that they were suitable to take care of a child. They had spent almost as long as I had in the Compound, training for this very day.\n\nThat was more than enough effort for me.\n\nI leapt off my chair, held onto their hands with mine.\n\n“Let’s go, Dad, Mum.”\n\n--- \n\n/r/rarelyfunny\n",
"*2284*\n\nWe are the first of a new generation.\n\n When I was a kid, life was pretty grim. Millions unemployed, proffessions out dated, useless. Education had regressed to the point of no return, and something had to give. The rich kids were fine, they could afford their fancy boarding schools, their private tutors and home schooling. But I was a part of the masses. We used to be called middle class, but that didn't exist anymore. No, it was all black and white. The one per cent versus the rest. Us against them.\n\nWhat was the point of studying to be a lawyer when there was no crime to prosecute, no client to defend? Every action, every conversation was recorded by the drones, filed safely on a database.\n\n How useful were human doctors if a robot could diagnose and cure any illness as soon as a patient walked through the doors? \n\nIt had been heralded as a golden age. A new dawn. I'd laugh if I could remember how. What was the point of an average lifespan of three hundred years if all it brought was pain; Of peace, if all it inspired was a dull illusion of a life filled with apathy and inertia? \n\nThat was when the beaurecrats had made their decision. That was then they introduced \"The Fix.\"\n\nI'd been here for the better part of seven decades. A simple unskilled prison guard, working twenty three hour days to babysit rogue robots. \n\nShe worked in the other wing, doing pretty much the same as me; sitting at a moniter that watched over The Obsoletes. \n\nI pitied them. Knew how frighteningly close I was to being one of them. To be deemed unfit, unable to provide to the cause. But I had one special attribute. The rarest of them all.\n\n I wasn't *sterile*. I was one of the very few who could still have kids.\n\n It wasn't as though I'd earned my freedom. I was effectively a stud, a means of providing a new batch of humans to the dwindling population. I'd be allowed to know my kid, sure. They weren't *monsters*. I'd just have to wait ten years for the privilege. \n\nBut the government were getting impatient. Their great experiment a failure. Unrealised as of yet. In the last sixty years, there had been no pregnancies. Not for lack of trying, mind you. Every day, three new girls were brought into my cell. The women weren't effected when the infection struck. They were ripe and fertile, fit and healthy. \n\nEvery day, my task would begin afresh. It had sounded fun at first. I was *lucky*, healthier than most of the world. It was an honour, an honour that secured my freedom.\n\n But there was no emotion to it, no thrill or chase. It was the same for the others. We weren't people, we were slaves.\n\nThen, one day, it happened. It was a miracle. Pregnant on our first attempt. Suddenly, we were treated with only the best service. Our jobs were replaced, and we lived like kings. Members of the one per cent. And it was fun, for a while. \n\nThe 29th of December. It's been precisely nine months, and we're in the hospital. The robots deliver our beautiful baby boy, and it's a relatively painless experience. I've heard it was different in the past. She's crying.\n\n*\"Can... Can I hold him?\"* she whispers. \n\nThe man gives a curt nod of his head and we have a moment together. The three of us. We huddle together in silence, in blissful tranquillity.\n\n*\"Times up. Say goodbye now.\"*\n\nWe sob as they wrench him from our embrace. \n\nIt's a kindness, they've explained. Would you rather he grow up as one of The Obsolete? \n\nIt makes sense, I know. They'll nurture him, train him, hone his talents. He'll be the first of his kind. Happy. Successful. The future. \n\nAnd yet, for some reason I can't quite explain, it *hurts* me. It's greater a pain than any I've ever experienced. It's as though someone has ripped out my heart. It's the closest thing to an emotion that I've had in a lifetime.\n\nTen years pass, and we live in luxury. A *reward* for services rendered. We're allowed to be together, and I can finally experience a genuine relationship. Maybe this is what *love* is. I wouldn't know.\n\n There's an underlying sadness to our lives, a profound sense of loss and anguish, but in a way, we're happy. After all, it's better than the alternative.\n\nToday he returns. Our beautiful baby boy. The door knocks, and we rush as one to open it. He's standing there, in his uniform. So handsome. So strong. So... *healthy.*\n\nBut his face is *emotionless,* and I feel a terrible pain when I think of what they must have done to him. He's a shell. Broken. One of *them.*\n\n He holds his arm out and shakes my hand awkwardly, quickly returning it stiffly to his side. He doesn't say a word. \n\n I long to hug him, hug him and never let go, but he's already taken a step back. \n\nThere's a man quietly standing next to him. He turns to speak to us, a bland and somber expression on his face. \n\n*\"Thank you for your service. You may now return to your stations, knowing that you have contributed to the Society in a meaningful way. A robot will be here shortly to escort you back to your jobs. Good night.\"*\n\nThe door slides closed with a gentle hiss, and she collapses into my arms, her body wracked and trembling with tears. I hold her close and we stand there in the deafening silence, imagining the world that could have been.",
"Memories are difficult. I don't want to trust them.\n\nThey're hard to keep track of.\n\nI know of some.\n\nHow I was pulled away from a screaming woman.\n\nLocked behind a door.\n\nA man in a uniform telling a mother and father their child is dead.\n\nMy first true memory, or shall I say clearest, is a room white as snow, and hugging to my chest chilled sheets. I was shaking, hungry, and tired. \n\nI wanted comfort, but didn't know how to express it.\n\nFear, anger, hatred.\n\nWaiting for the men to take me back to the rooms of machines and surgical equipment.\n\nBurly men in white.\n\nA thousand cobbled memories of a life spent on my back, strapped to a chair a thousand other children spent time in. \n\nStainless steel, laughing at me as I would close my eyes before injections, painful washes throughout my body.\n\nCorrections, they would say.\n\nWe were subjects, they never called us children.\n\nSubject 24601 has a genetic aberration here. Fix it.\n\nSubject 24601 has a dormant prion based disease that will kill him when he is 72. Fix it.\n\nSubject 24601 will have black hair. Fix it.\n\nSubject 24601 won't be six feet tall. Fix it.\n\nMy first years of life spent trapped in that anthill, a mass of thin passages and always rooms. \n\nSome held children.\n\nSome held equipment.\n\nSome housed staff.\n\nSome held corpses.\n\nToday I sit quietly in the back seat of a van, preparing for my return home.\n\nThe last session was meant to erase my memory, I assume. \n\nA needle the length of my forearm injected into my leg, full of some weird grey goop. Before I could even count to ten, I was out.\n\nI awoke with other children in an alien environment, a room packed with color and happy imagery. \n\nA room for real children, happy children, well cared for. Smiles plastered on the windows.\n\nA young woman reading from a book. Sing song and beautiful.\n\nBehind a window, a group of important looking men and women somberly observing. We all sat orderly around her, some whispering among themselves as if they knew each other. Each awoke from a daze.\n\nIn a show of feigned sorrow, the woman told us all our time was at an end here, and this news was met with a chorus of boos and tears. I knew these children. I had passed them in the thin halls, led by men with electric sticks.\n\nEvery stare as dead as mine.\n\nWe were led one by one through a warm process center. Around me were whispers of false memories, pacts to retain friendships that had never existed. \n\nEven then, I knew the truth. But whatever goop meant to wipe my memory must have failed. At first, images were hazy.\n\nBut they returned to me, over time.\n\nI was confused in the back seat of a white van, tinted windows revealing the real world.\n\nA real sky, clogged grey. A light rain. Occasionally, advertisements would hang above the world, filling the clouds.\n\n*Drink Coca-Cola!*\n\nI'm brought to a suburb, each house a sprawling estate. Well manicured lawns, tasteful architecture.\n\nWe pull into a driveway.\n\nOn their front lawn is a group of people, obviously residents of this neighborhood. Their dress is formal, and some hold signs.\n\n*WELCOME HOME*, printed on most of them. I do not know these people.\n\nI meet the woman and man that claim to be my parents. I find this doubtful.\n\nFor one, my original skin color had been much darker.\n\nI remember that experiment.\n\nThe words ring clear.\n\nSubject 24601 is an unacceptable pigment. Fix it.\n\nI'm showered with gifts and praise. Gifted a false name.\n\nThe woman years ago screamed Clay, probably doubled over in anguish.\n\nThis woman calls me Edward. How handsome I am! How strong I look! How well I read! How fast I can run!\n\nI'm forced to interact with other children, none that I recognize. They shared those same concocted memories of the Facility, giving fond recollections of a benevolent government. \n\nAm I the only one who truly remembers?\n\nI lay awake at night, surrounded by comfort and confusion.\n\nI know if I try to tell the truth, no one will listen.\n\nEvery day their televisions give paltry comforts, happy game shows and recipes.\n\nJets fly overhead at night, dull and powerful. In a dark night sky, a holographic woman dances with a man, and he gives her a ring. \n\nAll around, the facade of perfection.\n\nI know of a place.\n\nHidden, forgotten, scrubbed.\n\nSomewhere in the supposed 'South'. Atlanta. Miles from here.\n\nSubject 24601, I remember. Born in Atlanta, Georgia. 2123. \n\nI rise from the bed and dress. \n\nI steal money from the man and woman. Part of me feels badly, for they have shown love. But in my heart I know it is conditional. It will require more from me than I am willing to give. \n\nInto the night.\n\nClear air, sweet and free.\n\nI walk down the sidewalk, to a destination I barely remember.\n\nI remember.\n\nI remember.\n\nI remember.\n\nThe extent of our injected education made us not children, but products. I can read, write, reason. I know vaguely what I can do.\n\nInto the night.\n\nTo Atlanta. To a real home.\n\nMaybe I can find the woman who once called me Clay.\n\n--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nr/storiesfromapotato"
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[removed] | [WP] Convince your newly moved neighbor to scratch your itching back. | 1 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"Hi there, this post has been removed.\n\nPrompts must fit into the title box. \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/7jj0g9/wp_convince_your_newly_moved_neighbor_to_scratch/%0A%0A)\n\n*This action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things.*"
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1,
1
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"1513170017",
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[WP] Every child is granted a wish when they turn 13. You stand horrified as your older brother blows out his candles and wishes he was an only child. | 37 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"Kyle sat on the big chair, across from me. He had that stupid grin on his face with that stupid hat on his head. It only grew as Mommy and Daddy began to sing *Happy Birthday* and bring the cake over.\n\nI was the only one that had shown up for his birthday. But I was his brother, so I had no choice. I would rather have been with my friend across the street, pretending to be soldiers fighting in the jungles. And Mommy and Daddy probably would have let me, if it wasn’t his thirteenth birthday.\n\nI’d always been told that when you became thirteen you’d get one wish that would come true. And I couldn’t wait for mine. It was only two more years. I already had a thousand ideas ready.\n\nMommy placed the cake on the table and finished singing. Kyle took in a very deep breath and blew out the candles. Spit went flying everywhere. “What do you wish for, hon?” Mommy asked.\n\nKyle sat there for a moment. Then he made a stupid face, like a dim bulb had gone off in what little brain he had. I was the smart one. \n\n“That I was the only child!” He blew a raspberry at me. \n\nThen I felt something in my chest. It went down quickly. There was very little pain. But I saw the red stuff begin to shine on my black shirt. I fell from the chair to the ground.\n\nMommy and Daddy and Kyle all screamed. All those years that I had tormented Kyle for being the stupid one, for having all those health issues. The last thing I heard as my vision faded was Kyle screaming, “Imma sor-ry! Imma sor-ry!”",
"The knock on the door was almost instantaneous as my brother extinguished the candles on his cake with a mighty “whoosh”. \n\nMom and dad exchanged a worried glance. “Couldn’t be them already, could it?” dad asked, getting up from our rickety kitchen table. “Shouldn’t be them at all, actually. They never deal with these things in person anymore.”\n\nBut my mom’s forehead crinkled and dad walked a little quicker than normal as he headed to the front door, opening it just a crack. We saw his shoulders slump, and then the door swung wide to reveal three people, standing in formation on our doorstep. Wordlessly, dad ushered them inside.\n\n“What did you wish?” Mom hissed at Brody. \n\n“Uh...” Brody spluttered, speechless as the trio entered the kitchen. They were dressed all in black, a single bar of orange on their chests where a name tag would be.\n\n“Brody Henderson,” the woman at the front of the group addressed my brother formally. “At approximately 6:23pm Pacific Standard time, you made a wish per the decree of the Department of Puberty, under the statute of birthday wish creation and fulfillment. The fulfillment committee has received and reviewed your wish, as per the transcript-“ The woman paused to pull a roll of parchment from her pocket, unrolled it, and cleared her throat. “I, Brody Henderson, wish I was an only child.”\n\nMom and dad exploded. \n\n“Brody Paul Henderson!” Mom screeched. “An only child? You love your sister!”\n\n“What are you trying to do to your mother?” Dad thundered. “We are a family!”\n\nThe woman rolled the parchment back up. “Wishes of this nature are obviously reviewed thoroughly due to the permanence of the removal,” she explained. \n\n“Removal?” I asked weakly. I couldn’t even look Brody in the eye. “It’s like I’m a wart or something,” I muttered. \n\n“In special circumstances, we can implement a trial separation.” The shorter man behind the leader spoke now. He wore thick glasses with a small smudge on the left lens, which I would have found disarming and potentially endearing had I not been under duress. “We can take Gloria to a special facility for a week, during which time we will monitor the overall household happiness quotient and determine the appropriate course of action.”\n\nMy mind instantly flashed to prison cells and jumpsuits. “I don’t want to,” I said flatly. \n\n“I know, sweetie,” the woman said soothingly. “But it is your brother’s birthday, and he is entitled to a brief experience of what being an only child would entail.”\n\nMy lips curled, and I snarled like a rabid animal. “I would never do this to you!” I yelled at Brody.\n\n“Well, you won’t get a chance because I’m older and now you’re gone,” he taunted. \n\n“Please come with us now, Gloria.” The third wish team member spoke now, a tall, gangly woman who looked like she would pick me up and dangle me over her shoulder in order to remove me from the situation. As I studied her, she leaned in, a praying mantis moving in on its prey.\n\n“Fine,” I muttered, and slid off the chair. The tall woman grasped my arm and we walked out of the house without another word.\n\nI didn’t know what I’d expected to find in the driveway, but I knew the gunmetal stretch limo was not it. A chauffeur opened the back door and I slid in, followed closely by the trio. Once we were settled, the driver pulled away from the curb and smoothly delivered us onto the highway.\n\n“Now Gloria,” the leader finally said. “There is a clause within the statute that we did not disclose to your brother. A clause that benefits you immensely.” She handed me a black box, slightly larger than a shoebox. I cautiously opened it, discovering a shining panel of buttons. \n\n“As the subject of a malicious wish by an older sibling,” she explained, “there is a large degree of chance that you have been treated unfairly by the wishing party for a long period of time. Thus, we would like to extend the opportunity for retribution.”\n\nMy fingers danced lightly over the cool buttons. “Really?”\n\n“Absolutely,” The man said, eyes twinkling behind his glasses. “Now relax. It’ll be about 45 minutes to the GWL.” Seeing the question in my eyes, he explained. “Great wolf lodge. You get a vacation this week.”\n\nAs the limo purred down the highway, I leaned back in my seat, smiling. I would have to thank my brother one day...but for now...I think something hairy and disgusting was about to show up in his birthday cake.\n\nr/diekarrotte\n"
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[removed] | [WP] Instead of Execute Order 66 being heard by one Clone battalion, they got Order 69 and debauchery ensues. | 1 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"Hi there, this post has been removed.\n\nWhile it doesn't seem to be your intent, the mods reserve the right to remove anything we feel may become harmful to the community. This includes prompts likely to generate such responses. \n\nSexually explicit themes are 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/7joujd/wp_instead_of_execute_order_66_being_heard_by_one/%0A%0A)\n\n*This action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things.*"
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1,
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"1513221466",
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[WP] While browsing your computer one day, you discover a folder named "Cloud". As you investigate, you realize that your computer has been acting as the cloud storage for computers in your town, and that you have administrator access to all of it. | 9 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"It began with small things; I tweaked my children's grades here and there, nothing major.\n\nIt spiraled a little further, entirely doctoring certificates, slandering competitors, still nothing crazy.\n\nThen it started to get to me.\n\nI remember a time when my brain would have been okay doing anything, but that time is gone. The only thing I want to do, the only thing that it feels good to do, the only thing that feels satisfying to do is look at my fucking town's personal lives.\n\nIt's not as if I didn't have friends or a family; I have both, on the contrary.\n\nI feel a closeness with the people I'm following on the cloud though.\n\nI am with Sonia while she struggles to cope with her mothers spiral into an unrecognizable shell with Alzheimer's.\n\nI am with Andrew as he tries to write his script, just certain it will be picked up.\n\nI follow all of these people, take interest in their lives.\n\nI like to think someone else is doing the same with mine."
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1,
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"1513249914",
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[WP] As the world's greatest fiddler, you've been selected to play for a mysterious patron, to your surprise, it's the corpse of a 15th century Pope in the basement of the Vatican. | 3 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"\"This way, Mr. Wong.\"\n\nJulian Wong had been all around the world. He'd performed in the back rooms of Dunwich bars, The Sydney Opera House, American football stadiums and more. This was, by far, the strangest and most unnerving job he had ever taken. \n\nFirst, there was the contract. Julian Wong never signed a contract until he had picked it apart and understood every piece of it. There were terms and conditions in this contract that had made him consider refusing it. The secrecy clause was especially harsh in it's punishment if any part of it was breached. H'e signed similar things for reclusive billionaires, but this one felt... different.\n\nNow he wondered if he was ever going to perform another concert after this one.\n\nThe guide had lead him down into the catacombs beneath the Vatican. Each turn lead them into darker, damper, and smaller spaces. Julian had never been very claustrophobic but now he was wondering if you could develop the condition. \n\nHis guide was a tall, quiet man in a cardinal's robe. He'd been escorting Julian for an hour now and the only word's he'd said to him were. \"Good Evening, Mr. Wong.\" and \"This way, Mr. Wong.\" Julian was beginning to suspect that those were the only two English phrases that the man knew how to say. \n\nThey reached a strange door. Julian paused as the cardinal stood beside it with his hand stretched out awkwardly to hold the massive brass door handle. The door was new... in a place of ancient brick and stone carvings. The door was wooden. It had been polished until it shined and covered in fine brass. A symbol was carved deep into the wood: an inverted cross with a sun on one side and a moon on the other. \n\nJulian was now remembering every scene from every cult horror movie he'd watched as a kid. He wished he'd watched a few dozen less.\n\nThe cardinal opened the door and Julian blinked as golden light made him turn away. It was unnaturally bright after spending so long with only the light from a flashlight to see by. When his eyes adjusted he gaped in awe at what the door had concealed.\n\nThe room was *covered* in gold; every column, every etching, every tile on the floor shined with gold. The only things that weren't completely girted were the massive arrays of gemstones along the back wall... and the ancient stone casket that stood in the center of it all.\n\n\"What is this?\" Julian asked as he stepped inside. \n\n\"Good Evening, Mr. Wong.\" The cardinal smiled once, then shut the door.\n\nJulian looked around the tomb that he was now trapped within. There was no one else there. He checked the door and found that there was no handle on it from this side. Julian began to sweat. He wondered over to the walls in order to stop thinking about how long it would take him to starve to death down here. \n\nThe wall etchings were odd. They weren't pictures or words, they were markings on a set of lines. It took a few moments for Julian to realize that they music notes. Julian's skin writhed and shivered as he realized it. There was a musical score on the wall. It ran from the left side of the door, all the way around the room, and then back to the door. He slowly spun in a circle as he read the notes. He played it inside his head. It was not a piece he'd heard or read before. \n\nJulian looked down at the stone casket. Perhaps this was just some strange funeral tradition. He moved toward the stone object while trying to ignore every warning bell that was going off inside of his head. There was something inscribed onto the stone as well. He bent down to read it.\n\n\"Pope Calixtus the Third.\" Julian read aloud.\n\nHis words echoes strangely in the golden room. He straightened up and slowly turned around. He didn't understand this at all. He came here to perform... with a dead Pope as his only audience? Why?\n\nWhy did the rich and powerful do anything? Julian remembered performing for one particular socialite that had been... unique, to say the least. He would never look at adult diapers the same way again. \n\n\"Well, if this is it.\" Julian shrugged and carefully removed his violin from it's case. He spent a few minutes tuning the instrument. The acoustics inside the tomb weren't bad for how small the room was. \n\nHe poised himself, holding the music on the walls in his head, his back straight, and his fingers where they needed to be. Then he played.\n\nThe music was old, pre-classical. In some ways it was so much simpler than what would come later, but it was also lively and powerful for it's simplicity. It began slow then built up to a fun, jaunty little tune. \n\nHe finished with with a flourish, automatically moving into a bow before realizing that he had no one to bow to. He stopped half-way down and straightened back up. \n\nNow what?\n\nJulian had hoped that the cardinal would reappear and he'd just be done, but now-\n\nThe coffin lid moved.\n\nJulian screamed and scrambled to the door, trying to find a door handle that wasn't there. \n\nThe stone lid on the coffin slowly lifted and slid away. There were other noises besides the scraping of stone on stone. They were small, unsettling noises. The kind of noises that you never wanted to hear while walking down the sidewalk late at night. Julian watched, his eyes as big as the emeralds on the far wall. His heart thundered inside of him like the largest timpani ever made. \n\nA hand slapped onto the side of the coffin from inside. It was the hand of a dead man. Dust broke off of it's finger's from the impact. Desiccated flesh and exposed bones tightened on the stone rim. \n\nThe corpse hauled himself into a sitting position. It took it's hand off of the side of the coffin and stretched both arms above his head. It's jaw unhinged around scraps of ancient flesh and frayed wrappings.\n\nThe air filled with the sound of a long yawn.\n\n\"New year already?\" The corpse spoke through the yawn, blowing dust in a cloud from it's mouth and broken throat, \"I feel like I just laid down. I swear I don't sleep as well as I used to. This century is just too noisy.\"\n\nJulian gibbered and scratched against the closed door again.\n\n\"Oh. Hello, my child.\" The corpse raised a hand toward Julian, \"I see they sent another musician. I really don't understand why they insist on a live person. Why don't they just get a good music box? It'd be so much simpler.\"\n\n\"What??\"\n\n\"Sorry, my child.\" Pope Calixtus the Third smiled and shrugged. His left shoulder dislocated with the motion, \"You know how these church types are: a bunch of old sticks in the mud.\""
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"1513264610",
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[wp] You walk into your house and see Grim reaper sitting on your sofa/ couch, chilling with a 10 litre keg of beer and watching TV with tacos and a joint. | 3 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"The winter had taken its toll on Bob. In his youth Bob had always enjoyed the winter, but as his body grew weary, so did his spirit. But Bob did not mind the snow or the cold or the slippery roads. This year it was something else entirely. It was loneliness. \nFor as long as Bob could remember, he had spent his winters together with his wife Sharon, but she passed peacefully in August the same year. Sharon always loved the winter, and Bob had too. But now Bob was alone and the winter only reminded him of her. He tried to stay occupied by shoveling snow and chop wood and whatnot, but nothing seemed to mend his loneliness. He would talk to himself or perhaps listen to some of his records, but nothing seemed to help.\nBut it was not before February that Bob began to lose his mind. He had chopped enough wood for the entire county, and his driveway had been paved since it stopped snowing. Bob was not a very social man, and the few friends he had, were mostly friends of Sharon, and he did not want to be a bother. Bob was alone, and when Bob was alone he would think about his life and of Sharon and of death and it would only drive him to misery. 12th of February was a nice day. The snow by the road was moist and dirty, but the sun was shining and the wind was still. Bob was sitting by his fireplace, drinking a cup of coffee. He was reading a book he had read many times before. His fire were only glowing coals now, so he retired to his shed to get some more wood. He walked the paved path to his shed and noticed the silence in the air and the shining sun. He was moved, and thought only of Sharon and how she would have loved that day and that she would have taken him skiing or walking in the park or to play a round of chess by the fireside. Bob filled a bag with wood. He tried to lift it but he was not able too. He was done. He knew that the winter was not over at all, and that spring would not change anything. Bob wanted to break down and sob for a while, but he knew it would not help. He needed to get the fire started again, so he did. \nWhen Bob got back inside he heard a peculiar sound coming from his living room. A song had started playing on his turntable. He knew the song, but he had not heard it in many years. Bob also noticed a peculiar smell he had not enjoyed since his college days. «You all right out there Bobby?», an unfamiliar voice called out to him. Bob was stunned. No one had called his name for months. And now there was someone calling for him in his living room. «Who is there and what the hell are you looking for in my home?» Bob inquired.\n«Oh I am just here looking for you pal, just come here and I’ll show you» the voice called out. \nBob was not afraid of the man sitting on his couch. There was nothing really frightening about him, sitting there slurping some greasy tacos and smoking a marijuana cigarette. «Wh-who are you?» Bob asked the man as he entered the living room. «I think you know who I am Bob», the man stated, taking a big hit from his joint. Bob unloaded the wood and threw a couple of logs into the fire. \nThe man was young, with slick hair and a thick mustache. He also wore a fitted suit, and did not mind the tacosauce dripping down on his tie. «Are you the devil?» Bob tried. «No no no not at all comrade. I am Death», the man answered with a sort of sarcastic reverence. Bob was overwhelmed. He was not prepared for a meeting with death, as if anyone ever was. «Sit down man, I got to something to show you», Death told him. Bob sat down in his recliner. «First of all, can I get you something? Beer? Weed? Tacos? I can get us anything», Death asked. «If you insist, Mr.Death, i’ll have one of those cigarettes», Bob said with a shivering voice. He was not going to die sober. \n«Excellent choice sir! I just got this stuff the other day, and please, call me Alfredo», Death said as he lighted a joint, which he handed Bob. «Why Alfredo?» Bob asked. «Hey why not, I’ve always liked that name. Not as chilling as «Mr.Death» I guess» Alfredo answered. Bob took a hit from the cigarette. «So, Alfredo, what can I do for you?» Bob followed up. «Well, I wanted to begin by asking how you were doing; been up to anything lately?» Alfredo asked. «Wouldn’t you know?» Bob wondered. «Oh I know all to well about you Bobby, and I just couldn’t stand seeing you like this. It broke my heart», Alfredo told Bob as he gazed wistfully into the air. «Seeing you cooped up in here with your records and your coffee and your shovel, well, I just had to interfere», he explained. «So you came here out of pity?» Bob asked. «No not at all man, I just thought you needed a friend, to you know, set things into perspective and shit. We divine entities are not really into the whole pity scene», Alfredo ensured. \n«But have you not come to take me with you. Why help the dead?» Bob asked Alfredo confused. «You are not a dead man Bobby, not yet at least. I wouldn’t just come here to kill you off, would I? I’m just here to chill and perhaps solve some of your existential torment» Alfredo told him sarcastically. «Why me?» Bob inquired. «Well there’s really no specific reason. I just like you. I always have. I always liked how you were so content and vigorous, and seeing you crumble into some old hermit in all your misery was never really an option», Alfredo said with a chuckle. \nThe two men sat opposite each other, and for a while they just sat and puffed on each their joint, and listened to the record playing in the background. «So how do you like this stuff?» Alfredo asked pointing at his joint. «I haven’t smoked in years, but I must say, these are some neat drugs», Bob said with a grin. He was relaxed now. «Aw geez man you mean it?» Alfredo asked as if he were just another kid in the neighborhood. «Yeah, this is something else than the pot we had back in the day alright, where do you get this stuff?» Bob asked. «My own back yard man. Hydroponics, and the fact that I am an omnipotent entity of creation, does help for a good harvest» he told Bob who was quite impressed. «I can teach you the nitty gritty I guess» he followed up. \n«Thanks man, appreciate it», Bob told Alfredo. \nThe two men ate tacos, had a couple of beers and smoked some more as if they were old friends. Bob had not had a conversation in months, and Death was quite glad for the encounter. Death was not a scheming man, and had no exterior motives for his appearance. He actually just wanted to chill. Reaping the dead for eternity can be a sort of somber experience, so taking a break just to help a man he admired, delighted Death to an extent. \n«So what should we name this thing?» Alfredo asked nodding at the cigarette. \n«How about Grim Bean?» Bob declared. «Grim Bean, huh? A bit bleak ain’t it?» Alfredo challenged. «Shit man I don’t know. I don’t know anything in the presence of God and all of that» Bob stated trying to sound profound, but failing, partly due to him being quite stoned. «Hey I’m no God alright, that’s a whole other league. But hey, how about OG Bob?» Alfredo asked. «I would be humbled», Bob answered. «Then it is settled. From this day and forward til the end of days, this specific strain, which is of my own design, shall be called OG Bob, in the honor of a great man, husband and comrade», Alfredo declared. \n«I hope I was a good husband», Bob stated in a melancholic, yet nostalgic fashion. «Oh you were one of the best. It really broke my heart when I had to reap good old Sharon», Alfredo said quite saddened. «Why did you? Why did you take my Sharon away?» Bob asked with a hollow gaze as if he was sitting opposite his killer and his savior. «You know how it is man», Alfredo told Bob with a chuck. «Death is just as unfair as life. I never desired to take your wife away from you. You didn’t deserve that. But nothing is about what you deserve. Its all about chance and luck», Alfredo said as he passed his joint to Bob. Bob took a hit, and shed a tear. «Can you take me too her?» Bob asked looking at the floor. «Well, one day I will Bob, as I will with everyone. And when that day comes you, me and Sharon will be together, and we will smoke some more OG Bob and we will reminisce and we will be glad. But that day has not come yet. And up until that day comes you cannot sit in that chair and read the same book over and over and watch the fire turn into coal. Sharon wouldn’t want that. You need to live out your days, as that is your duty», Alfredo said with celestial impact. «But I miss her so much», Bob whispered, now sobbing. «I know you do man, and she is out there, waiting for you. But all in good time, alright. You have a destiny, just like she had», Alfredo said while comforting Bob with his right hand. «But why did she die? Why did you take her from me? How was her death part of the divine plan?» Bob asked, not really expecting a clear answer. «Well, that it up to you to find out», Alfredo told Bob. «You just gotta relax and not get distracted».\nBob understood what Death had told him, but he would not accept it. He could not go on another day without his dear Sharon, but he knew he had to. «I hope you’re right», Bob stated, but Death was gone. He had departed as fast and suddenly as he had arrived. Bob did not mind. He knew that he had not gone insane. It was all divine intervention. Otherwise there would not be a bag of sweet sweet OG Bob on his coffee table. \nIn the weeks that followed, Bob smoked that stuff for both breakfast, lunch and supper, and decided to get a shot at growing the stuff himself. Now Bob grows his own shit, and has lots of friends that he can smoke with. And in the end, what else is there to say? Nothing much. Bob eventually died, like all of us have to at some point, but he did not mind. He knew what was waiting for him.",
"\"Hey.\"\n\n\"Heey.\" His returned response set in the reality of the sight before me. His skeletal foot propped on the handle of keg before him and a lit joint hanging between his fingers. Resigned to the inevitable I ignored the disbelief that had briefly passed through me. The shrouded shadow cast from his raised hood his face in a dark abyss.\n\nI silently moved over to seat myself on the couch beside him. \"This isn't exactly how I expected it to happen. Is this just some send off? Some calm approach or something?\"\n\n\"Huh? I'm sorry I wasn't really focusing. You wanna hit?\" He offered the joint.\n\n\"Sure, I guess, I've never tried before but might as well right?\"\n\n\"Hehe, yeah right? Wait you've never tried are you sure you wanna?\"\n\n\"Well, yeah I mean I'm dying, why not right?\"\n\n\"Ohhhhh, shit you're dying? Man that sucks, here you need something stronger.\" He flipped through the stack of tacos and removed a much larger joint. \"Here.\"\n\nI took the joint from him and slid it into my mouth. I leaned over as he offered up a lighter. It was an odd feeling as I took my first pull, I choked a bit on the inhale. As I blew the smoke out and watched it swirl out it hit me. *What does he mean, \"you're dying?\".*\n\n\"Hey isn't that why you're here? To take my soul or whatever?\"\n\n\"Huuh? Is I, is *that* why I'm here? Huh, I'm not really sure.\" He lifted the other joint into his shroud. I stared baffled by the seemingly floating joint.\n\n\"Why else would you be here?\" I asked confused. I quickly pulled the joint from my mouth.\n\n\"That's a good question man. We should, we should definitely figure that out.\"\n\nI couldn't fathom what that was supposed to mean. I sputtered a few times failing to form a sentence, I couldn't think of anything to say. I looked back to the joint in my hand and decided to take another hit. I took a longer pull this time letting the smoke stay trapped inside my throat. As I continued to work through the joint I slowly relaxed into the couch. As I blew out another cloud of smoke I smacked my lips together trying to fix the odd sensation that was slowly getting worse.\n\n\"Oh here.\" He offered up a taco. \"Yeah you're gonna want a couple of those. Oh and here.\" He handed me a mug topped off with beer.\n\nI looked at the strange coffee mug. \"Hey is this from my cupboard?\"\n\n\"Oh yeah, I forgot to bring my own.\"\n\n\"Oh, mmm no I don't drink beer.\"\n\n\"No beer either. C'mon you're already working through that fatty.\"\n\n\"Wha? No I meant I don't like beer.\" I pulled open the cabinet door under my coffee table. I removed a bottle of Amaretto and poured into another empty mug.\n\n\"Well shit, I didn't know you kept the heavy shit in there. Good thing too, prolly woulda drunk it all before you got home.\"\n\n\"How long have you been here?\"\n\n\"What? Oh I don't know. What else you have?\"\n\n\"Oh, there's some Smirnoff and some kind of rum that my brother left.\"\n\n\"Well shit, this is gonna be an even better time than I thought. Hey, what're we watching?\"\n\n\"You've got the news on, or something.\"\n\n\"Oh that's right I was watching animal planet or some shit. Those anima- aminal, animals yeah shit that's the word. Those animals were fucking boss, they, damn man they're just...\"\n\n\"Boss?\" I finished.\n\n\"Oh fuck you've seen em too?\"\n\n\"How high are you?\"\n\n\"I dunno man. This is like, I dunno, I've been hittin' these the whole time, like my seventh roach.\"\n\n\"Shiiit- if I knew anything about smoking pot I'm sure that'd be impressive.\"\n\n\"Ha! Haahahah, damn that, that was fucking hila- great.\"\n\nI refilled my glass. \"So have we figured out why you're here yet?\"\n\n\"Oh fuck I forgot!\"\n\n\"I know, that's why we were trying figure it out.\"\n\n\"Huh, no I meant forgot to think about it.\"\n\n\"Ha! Nah fuck it let's just have a good time.\"\n\n\"Yeeahaa!\" He raised his mug and we knocked them together.\n\n_\n\nThe Grim Reaper rose from the couch and looked down at the man. He had passed out with a smile on his face. He grabbed the remote for the t.v. and pointed it at the set.\n\n\"... The intoxicated driver blew through a red light causing multiple accidents. We have footage of the crash from traffic cameras. As you can see the driver swerves past a few other vehicles before finally flying through this intersection and rolling onto the sidewalk. And right here we can see a man standing at the cross walk throw himself into this mother and child throwing them clear of the rolling vehicle. Unfortunately we have been informed this man was killed on impact. Thankfully there were no other fatalities.\"\n\nThe Grim Reaper switched the t.v. off and turned back to the sleeping man. They had spent the better part of the day talking and relaxing. They had talked about his life and his family while enjoying themselves. He took one last drink tipping it towards the man before placing a hand on his chest. The man's image faded and a glowing light entered the hourglass that hung from the Grim Reaper's wrist.\n\nr/TheoreticalFictions"
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Projected* | [WP] There’s an entire division of elves that watch for aircraft coming too close to the North Pole. One day, a plane with dual engine failure is trajectory to crash right next to Santa’s home. | 0 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"Alarms flared up and screamed in the cold steel office. A haggard old man with limp white hair plastered against his neck stared down at a small screen on his desk. It flashed angrily. A crash. The old man stood slowly from his desk and grabbed a cane. He was wearing an ancient suit jacket and dress pants that might have once been red. He straightened his tie and hobbled out of the office, donning his hat. As he exited the room, a small man wearing green overalls approached him rapidly and began speaking.\n\n\"Santa, sir, there may be no way to stop it! It's headed right for us!\" breathlessly sputtered the tiny man. He was holding a stack of papers with severe looking fonts eschewed across them. Santa shook his head and stopped suddenly. He grabbed the elf by the shoulder.\n\n\"Unlock Rudolph's room,\" gravely muttered Santa. The elf's jaw dropped, but he hurried away nonetheless. Santa continued hobbling down the hallway, faster now. The hallway had started to erupt into chaos, but the traffic flowed around Santa. Another elf approached him, holding a watch and looking nervous.\n\n\"We're about 2 minutes to impact, sir. Their engine is out, it'll take a miracle to stop them,\" shouted the elf over the panic. Santa grimly smiled to himself. He'd have to work another Christmas miracle.\n\nWhen he reached the end of the hall, he turned the handle on an inconspicuous door. It swung open silently, and the din from outside poured into and echoed around inside it. A single glowing red orb punctuated the darkness.\n\n\"I don't do this sort of job anymore, old man,\" grated a deep voice from the darkness. A reindeer stepped into the light streaming in the room. His nose was glowing red. One of his eyes was scarred over and he held an ornate katana in his teeth. Santa chuckled. \n\n\"We don't have a way to get you back after you finish the job, Rudolph. You'll be earning your freedom.\" Rudolph flinched. He could still remember the last time this happened, the same conditions, the same storm. \n\nSanta patted Rudolph once, out of respect, then turned and exited the building through and door to their left. He could see the plane now. He steeled himself and firmly planted his boots in the snow, then pointed his cane at the plane. An immense beam poured out of the cane, suspending the plane, and in its flight it gradually slowed, until finally Santa twirled his cane and slammed it back in the ground. The plane hit the ground with a soft thud. Santa spun and began walking back inside. He passed Rudolph on his way in. He whispered something to the reindeer as he passed. \n\n\"Remember, nobody can know.\"\n\nRudolph sharply inhaled and shakily let out his breath. People had started evacuating the plane, cheering, hugging their loved ones. Some of them saw the workshop and pointed. Rudolph trotted faster now, katana clenched intensely in his teeth. A strong wind began kicking up the snow, and soon all that was visible was a single red light dashing towards the plane. When the screaming started, it didn't stop for almost three minutes.\n\nSanta watched the reindeer trot away on the horizon, katana stained with blood. It had always been workshop policy. No witnesses. But it was rarely civilians, rarely innocents. Rudolph had earned his freedom at an immense cost. Santa watched him vanish with the blizzard with his cold blue eyes that had seen so much and felt so little. \n\n\"Get someone to clean it up. We've got work to do.\""
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Edit: Insurance fraud, not voter fraud, darn auto correct. | [WP] After Setting Fire to your house to commit voter fraud, you realise you forgot to insure your house. | 2 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"I watched the house burn to a husk as the roaring flames flickered in my eyes. I was actually quite surprised by how fast the house was engulfed by the flames, and the height this flame was reaching. Through a whirling vortex, the burning husk sent flames spiralling upwards of twenty or thirty feet in the air, illuminating the entire neighbourhood like one giant torchlight. The nearest fire department was fifteen minutes away, so by the time they would arrive, sometime between the next three to five minutes, only the charred foundation of the home would still be standing. As the foundation lost its strength, broke apart, and collapsed on itself, a dazzle of smouldering embers drifted into a nearby tree. The silver leaves quickly flickered with flames, but a rainfall prior had drenched the tree with a damp overcoat, diminishing the chances of any real fire developing. That was good. I liked that tree, the way its branches extended, split and divided, and the rays of the sun would cast a fractal shadow onto my yard was beautiful. It was probably the most beautiful tree in the whole neighbourhood. They would probably bulldoze it anyway when building a new house on this lot, but I still liked that tree. \n\nDeep down in the recesses of my mind, while watching the carnage unfold before me, I snickered to myself. Oh, that Democratic candidate would face full, unadulterated retribution for the unscrupulous things he said. And I knew that this retribution, destined to be endowed into my hands by God himself, would be fully unmerciful and unforgiving as the march of Sherman through Georgia. And, don't even get me started on the party itself. They deserved to whither away and die, the whole burgeoning party collapsing inwards, from the utter shock of electoral defeat. Strengthening federal institutions, eviscerating the works of previous administrations, and overriding the most inviolable rights that our great forefathers fought and *died* for?! Absolutely disgusting, and there would be hell to pay for it. I swore on my very own life there would. No one can regress the great works of Jackson and Jefferson without going through me, first. \n\n\"Fuck,\" I muttered to myself as a creeping thought crawled up my cerebral cortex to the front of my mind. \n\n\"Oh, *shit.*\" I thought. I could hear sirens ringing in my ear now, slowly getting closer. I could feel a sweat growing on my brow, my circulation and hear-rate speeding up, and my breath shortening. My fingers tingled and my senses reeled as adrenaline began prioritizing blood to my primary organs instead of my appendages. My primal instincts flared into full operation as this horrible, terrible thought took form. \"God.... God-dammit, you have to be kidding me, you have to be, this has to be a fucking joke.\" \n\nYou see, I had this grand plan that I had come up with a few nights before. I had nothing to lose at this point, after losing nearly all of my money on a stupid gamble, my wife three months prior, and my Dog - who had been snatched away from me by my wife. So, I decided that I would burn my house down. For one, I hated this house. It elicited old memories that were far too pleasant for me to bear, and would always bring my spirits down. It reminded me of sweet memories that weren't anyway representative of my current reality, and I wanted to do nothing more but purge my mind of all of it. And, if I played my cards right - which wasn't a hard thing to do thanks to the broken nature of bureaucracy - I could vote twice for my candidate, throwing the Democrats under the bus once and for all. I, driven by ambition and willpower, would end this partisan fight with a fiery ending. But of course, just like gambling and my marriage, it didn't go the way I had originally envisioned it. \n\n\"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!\" I stammered as a screaming fire-truck pulled up. In full gear, a squadron of fireman unloaded, and rushed past me towards the smoking disaster. One of them ran towards me, and asked me a few questions, but I was so distraught with the thought of my mistake that I didn't even hear him at first. \n\nHis words slowly faded in, \"Sir, are you OK?!\" \n\nI couldn't string together the words to speak. My mind was on fire, just like my house. Was I fine? No. Was it incredibly stupid to burn down my house? Probably. But my mind spit out what was really consuming me. \n\n\"Oh, Goddammit, I forgot to insure my fucking house!\" \n\n\"Well, listen sir- \" The fireman said, probably trying to soothe my nerves or something, I don't know. \n\n\"No, *you* listen. Thanks to the terrible system made by the government *you* work for, I don't have a dime of insurance! Not a Goddamn dime! How do you think I can live without insurance?\" I shouted at him. \n\nHe took a step back, cautious. \n\n\"Oh, for Christ sake, those scheming, nefarious, venal, corrupt, treacherous, fickle, capricious, vacillating, d-double-crossing Democrats!\" I yelled, letting out my vexations and pinning them on my most cowardly and unworthy opponents. They had managed to seize the upper-hand again, this time through the most unfair and deceiving methods. They had burned all of the documentation of my insurance, and obfuscated my mind to prevent me from filing my house insurance. And then, they even had the gall to put this exasperating fire-fighter before me. In a bout of pure rage, I socked the fire-fighter square in the jaw, and took off running in the opposite direction.\n\nI didn't get far, though, a police officer tackled me from the side after running maybe twenty feet, and immediately cuffed me. Under suspicion of arson, they took me to the station, and threw me into a cold cell. I was brought forth to court, and in a quick trial, a rapid succession of charges was brought down upon me. I don't know when I will get out now, and, now that I think about it, this really is worse than the damned place I was in before. I mean, the cell of my mind is just as entrapping as this place, so its not any different in that sense, but, you learn to appreciate the finer things in life when you don't have them. This concrete floor is a whole lot colder than the bed I used to have, these clothes are a lot more coarse and itchy than my old outfit, and I can't remember the sweet memories that used to give me a sense of happiness. That's the worst part. There's nothing in this place that can trigger any memories. No colours that could bring back the sight of a nice sunset, no smells that could elicit the imprinted neuronal pathway of a perfume, no sounds that could bring back the ringing of sweet laughter. Whereas before I thought the digressions of my behaviour had me trapped in some sort of cruel prison, now I was truly in a prison, with nothing left in my mind to give me solace any-more. Only the harsh memories of my past that stood out like a rusty nail, digging into my mind, and the endless accompanying feelings of remorse, regret, and quiet desperation gave me companionship now. \n\nI really only had one decision left that could give me some sense of dignity. Suicide. That's right, I would end it all, right now, right here. There was really no point in going on after the abysmal failure I had become, and, as my wife once suggested to me before never coming back, I should stop being a waste of space. So I decided I would follow her word, for once. It was actually quite hard to commit suicide in a prison, since they would rather have you suffer than just die, but I at-least had the wherewithal to find myself a rope, and bring it to my cell. I made the noose, tested it to make sure I wouldn't fuck up the last task ahead of me, and tied it to a ceiling lamp. I grabbed a chair, stood up, and rested the noose around my neck. My thoughts were apprehensive, as you'd expect, but a single thought stood out. For once in your life, don't be a coward, and own up to your actions. You've screwed it all up, so you owe it to the world to fix it. So finally, after a long talk of convincing myself, and with a wave of sheer emotion and impulse, I kicked the chair. \n\nI fell towards the floor, suddenly stopped and suspended as my neck was caught by the rope. The noose tightened around its prey, constricting my airways, and my ability to breath. My most primal instinct for survival kicked in, and I began clawing at my neck, desperately trying to find some relief, trying to free myself from this trap I had made. The coarse hairs of the rope burned as it twisted and tightened around my neck. I tried screaming, but I couldn't let out any air. At this point, I figured I had lied to myself. I didn't want to die. I never wanted to die. My fingers drew blood as I tried harder, with my last breaths of air, to free myself. I tried mustering the deepest strength within me, but it wasn't enough. I squeaked, trying to breath the smallest breaths of air, just to live a moment longer. But the moment came, and passed, and like all the others I had wasted through the years, it didn't amount to anything. "
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[WP] The year is 2316. You are an archaeologist visiting Earth. You've discovered what appears to be a huge kingdom dedicated to...a mouse? | 1,031 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"In a boring corner of the Milky Way sits Earth, a barren and generally uninteresting little rocky planet, except for the fact that the most intelligent, altough some conspiracy theorists in Alpha Centauri would dispute such claim, managed to wipe themselves out within a couple of centuries after being able to reach space, as the reptillioids that ruled the planet during their millennia-long vacations, obtained after a series of millennia-long strikes that almost destroyed their planet, did not want their favourite exotic food to run away from their little pens.\n\nTo Ublagog Zrub, an archaeologist interested only in the dullest things in the Universe, Earth was the pinnacle of what happened when a species did not read the famous 100 Things to Start a Successful Civilization, a book which was not written by anyone, yet it was always there to guide those who would seek his guidance, proceeding to make someone somewhere very, very rich. Ublagog was working in his own book to hopefully convince someone to found a cult around him like they did with the previous civilization guidelines, he dubbed it 101 Things to Start a Successful Civilization and already had 100 of those reasons which were fortunately available in every store and church in the Galaxy.\n\nBut what would be the 101st thing?\n\nSince the Earth was the only example of a people collapsing on itself, he thought that by investigating it there would be a 0.00002% chance he would actually find the 101st point to his book, it just so happens the 0.00002% probability was hit spot-on.\n His ship landed on a blasted-out peninsula once called “Flirda”, or so his cheap on-board encyclopaedia told him, where the “hugmanx” would gather almost every cycle to worship and praise a rodent god which apparently had no name, since the digital book couldn’t come up with one.\n\n“Why did I even request for one of you at the shipyard?”, said Ublagog in frustration, to which the digital book responded at the top of his hypothetical lungs “Well now, do you think I wanted to be like this? Those cheapskates that wrote me couldn’t afford to let me memorize more than 256 entries, I DON’T EVEN KNOW YOUR NAME ANYMORE!”\n\n“Whatever, book, just keep in contact while I explore around here, ok?”\n\n“I sure will, here’s hoping you’ll be torn apart by an angry indigenous life form!”\n\nThe actual planet was something peculiar, with grey skies, soil and even some liquid awfully familiar with water, only much more gooey and unfriendly, Ublagog did not find it hard to understand why all lifeforms and his colleagues had ignored this rock for so long, but that only could mean any exciting discoveries were all his to wrap his grubby four arms around, right?\n\nBut as far as discoveries could go, the next few hours would lead to the rise of a new religion in the galaxy, centuries of holy war, the first infinite book and the death of a dolphin-monkey.\n\nEventually, Ublagog reached the only structure still left standing around that region, a gigantic building of stony towers and walls still as pristine as the day the world ended, but in front of it the statue of a gigantic rodent, with black fur, a type of vestment in a faded crimson, huge funny ears and hollow staring eyes. At his feet were skeletons donning glasses, hats and other attires made in his image, Ublagog radioed to the ship “Book, I think I’ve found something big!”\n\nIn fact, it was a hostile indigenous life form that looked at Ublagog’s two heads in a menacing way, but after realizing it was in the presence of this great mouse god, it fell in the ground, fearing visibly the image in the statue. The archaeologist then thought it would be a good idea to put on one of those funny mouse hats in his head, but as soon as it was resting on his head, images of the Universe, Life and Everything Else stormed through his head, revealing to him All That Was, Is and Will Be.\n\nHe finished his book, detailing his travels and the grey paradise he called Mickey’s Kingdom to where his chosen and favoured would go in the afterlife, the book was called Infinite Things to Start a Civilization and founded this new funny religion called Mouseism after what he wrote in the book.\n\nOut of sheer coincidence, last of the exotic dolphin-monkeys of Jakar-IV died of old age while the first edition of the book as released to the public.\n",
"Researchers log:\nIt's been 4 days since we have arrived in dig zone 0r-14ndo. This, kingdom we have found is quite a marvelous discovery. We have heard rumors of such a kingdom from centuries old photographs and texts from before the end times, but we never thought it would still be standing at quite a well preserved state. While a lot has decayed and all most writing has been tarnished in some way, the infrastructure and tech of this country is still mostly intact.\n\nUnlike other kingdoms we have researched, this one seems to be under the control of a gigantic \"mouse\" as they called it, on a tuxedo. We can only assume that this statue standing before the castle was meant to show how he leads the way for mankind. \n\nThis \"mouse\" set up his kingdom in a very much peculiar way. Each section of the country was given a theme that it was to follow to the T. It was required the theme be followed so much that the kingdoms citizens seem to have been given uniforms that can only be worn in those areas. What an advanced yet archaic way to live.\n\nThe first place of interest was this large and ornate structure of wrought iron and red rock. We dig down at what seemed to be grave markers much like ones we've found on other earth digs, but we found nothing buried beneath. We entered the structure through a threshold near these graves. We lowered ourselves into a foyer and ventured into this place.\n\nWhen we came out we had many things of note. The people of this section treated there dead quite poorly in the past and it would appear that this home was for spirits that had once terrorized the citizens. We have reason to believe all the robotics are there to represent these spirits in a physical form. (As an aside I personally have reason to believe that those spirits still inhabit the building seeing as the pipe organ suddenly started playing and I saw images of past peoples)\n\nMoving away from there we found a section dedicated to American history. While we have had sources going all the way back to 1890 on American history, we have yet to find any first hand sources on the \"revolution\" we saw cited so many times. Perhaps this section will help complete that archive.\n\nMoving on we come across a great mountain. The water is still, but there appeared to be a man made slide leading to a pit of darkness on the outside. After what I witnessed at the first site, I commanded my team not to enter, for fear that this mountain may have something to do with occult rituals and sacrifices.\n\nMoving quickly, we entered a jungle. We boarded a dingy that slowly and roughly brought us through s showcase of jungle wildlife. We will be showing our biological history sector this for sure. After we disembarked we noticed a large skull. I was surprised by this cloths apparent lack of aging and was lured closer to this structure. We have seen similar structures in dig sites such as CU-b4 but never this far inland. The only legible text says \"- a pirates life for m-\".\n\nAs we ventured deeper into this prison of sorts we find an what must be an armory. It is so well preserved that even the wood on the primitive firearms still seem pristine. As I went to collect one for further research, I found that each and every weapon was bolted in place. Onward we pressed until we found a small dock. I was very suprised to see how much time had passed since we entered. It was still daylight out when we entered but it is very clearly the dead of night now. We board a dingy and\" using oars we found nearby, navigate into the abyss. \n\nWe first pass scenes of horrible deaths and supernatural occupancies including fish humans and men, long dead, who had apparently been stabbed through the heart. As we get the end of this scene we are greeted with a small water fall. On we sailed and we found a large ship with a man in tattered, but fine clothes. He moved with such angry fervor but his voice was full of static with an occasional word or two becoming intelligible. Whine he was yelling at was not apparent as what appeared to be a dirt to our right was dark and dismal.\n\nWe turned the corner and we disembarked unto the cobble stone shore. We found fantastical displays of torture and piracy following. Many of which were silent and motionless, but one automaton seemed to consistently be everywhere and operate with perfect human like movements. He appeared to be a fugitive, hiding from the other men, and he must have been quite special considering the quality of his clothes in comparison to the others.\n\nOn we progressed until we came across the only part of this historical showcase to be fully operational. Everything was on fire. We panicked for quite a while having thought we would be engulfed in the flames, but as it turned out it was just an incredible affect. (This mouse must have had some incredible engineers working for him). We also learned this section of the kingdoms anthem, as it was the only audio not totally corrupted. That tune will be stuck in my head for a very long time. Yo ho. Anyway we exit the interactive museum to find that it is only sunset. I know not of the trickery that changed Day to night and back again, but that will be subject to my research later.\n\nBased on what information we have uncovered in this limited time, I can hypothesize that this kingdom acted as many small governments with its own rules and practices, all of which answered to the big mouse in the castle. I hope my future research will give is a clearer picture if this places purpose, but for now, these fantastical images of pirates and ghosts imprinted in the minds of me and my colleagues, will stay with us for years to come. I hope one day, we ourselves could engineer such beautiful bad imaginative works, and bring them to our own people back home. \n\n",
"Captains Log: Day 43\n\nAll evidence gathered lends credence to the pseudo-religious, idolatrous, worship of this mouse. It appears a kingdom was built around the anthropomorphic demi-god. I have found different sections of this \"kingdom\" all with separate focuses of their worship. Some areas seem to be devoted to eras of American history, others to fantasy worlds that never existed. \n\nUpon further exploration I have found what I believe to be priests attire. Several different styles and patterns, most likely denoting different sects of the religion, or possibly a hierarchy of sorts. I have divided these outfits into three main categories, the first being overly ornate yet cheaply constructed royal dresses; the second category seems to be commoners outfits from different cultures as well as eras. I have found what appears to be an Arabian street urchins garments as well as a German forester's clothes. Strangely, they all appear to be made of the same material. The third category of garments were, I believe, reserved for the high priests. These costumes come with masks intended to hide the wearer's entire head. They are inhuman, being anthropomorphic dogs, mice, and ducks. I plan on delving deeper into the kingdom tomorrow to see what I can uncover about their religious practices.\n\nDay 44\n\nI have discovered several other areas that reinforce my hypothesis of a religious cult society. I believe I have uncovered where the indoctrination of new recruits once began. As I explored, I came upon a large indoor track of some sort. Upon further inspection, I found on both sides of the track were animatronic pygmies, representing Earth's different races and cultural traditions. The amount of wiring and electronic components within these automatons leads me to the conclusion that the entire track was a condescend form of their creation myth, much like the stations of the cross to Christianity. Unnervingly, some of the automatons appeared to move or disappear as I circled the track. For now I'll assume it was nothing more than my nerves.\n\nDay 45:\n\nIt was not nerves. When I returned to my ship to depart I found it completely dismantled. The few parts that were left were shaped into crude images of that hideous mouse that towers over the center of this kingdom. I have rigged a crude distress beacon that I hope will bring attention to me.\n\nDay 47: I see eyes out of the darkness when I sit by my campfire. My nerves are at their ends and I am unsure of how long I can survive. Last night they mocked me. I heard them singing that insufferable song over and over and over again, just outside the light from my fire. When they will strike I have no guess, but I cannot imagine I will be allowed to depart. I am not sure how I will be able to escape from this place, but tomorrow I strike out on my own. \n\nDay 50: They have me cornered in some kind of subterranean lair. Miles and miles of these tunnels stretch underneath the length of the kingdom. I have no guess as to why. At this point I do not have the mental facilities to try and dissect their culture. If you find this, please pass these notes on to whomever they may concern. My gods! I can hear them singing! They come!\n\nDay: Tomorrowland\n\nIT'S A SMALL WORLD AFTER ALL \n\nIT'S A SMALL WORLD AFTER ALL \n\nIT'S A SMALL WORLD AFTER ALL \n\nIT'S A SMALL WORLD AFTER ALL \n\nIT'S A SMALL WORLD AFTER ALL \n\nIT'S A SMALL WORLD AFTER ALL ",
"I descended upon the war torn wasteland that was once North America. I’ve come to study the Earth in hopes of finding out how it’s creatures once lived and what brought them to their demise. I work for the Intergalactic Historical Society as a Chief Researcher and with this title comes more fieldwork and more time away from home. \n\nThe area I was supposed to search was only a few miles from my drop site. I would have landed at the location but during my descent my wingtip caught the top of an oak tree and I was forced to set it down immediately. I grabbed the small pod from the back of my cruiser and set it on the ground. After punching in a combination of symbols, it blossomed open and before me sat an all-terrain vehicle which was vital for transporting my equipment. \n\nAfter a brief and anxious ride, I arrived at a cave, somewhere on the west coast. I clicked on my helmet light and began my excited walk into the darkness. Oh how I couldn’t wait to find a skeleton intact and be a hero in the science community back home. This was my big break. I could feel it. \n\nUsing the GPS coordinates I had been given, I ventured further, getting closer and closer to the dig site. I was promised to find something here and I risked it all to uncover it. The beeps from my GPS grew frantic and then combined into one continuous tone. I had arrived. \n\nExcitedly I looked up and focused my light upon something odd. I moved closer to see a 12 foot statue of Mickey Mouse. Looking around all I see are books, drawings, paintings, and sculptures of Mickey fucking Mouse. Angrily I snatch the radio from my belt and call back to the research facility. \n\n“There’s nothing here! What the fuck is this statue?! I hate that mouse!” I was cut off by the sound of hysterical laughter. \n\n“April fools, mate!” cried a voice from the other end. “Good luck finding parts to fix your ship!” They had a really good laugh about the whole thing. \n\nThat was 2 years ago. I really need to find those parts. "
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[WP] It’s the future and immortality has been achieved in America to the point that it is commonplace. Although immortal, you’re not indestructible, so of course, corporations have created eternal slaves for cheap employment. | 5 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"“Back to work- now!” barks the man in red, walking pompously around and examining the workers.\n\nJoseph gets back to work immediately following this order. He can’t stop working, after all. If he does he’ll be fired, leaving him on the streets in unquenchable poverty with a constant painfully empty stomach. This job is all that satisfies his fundamental needs- although it’s a tough job and a frustratingly challenging one, it’s all that keeps him from being stranded.\n\n“Ow! Damn it!” A jarring yell interrupts his thoughts and it takes him several seconds to register that the yelp came from his own mouth.\n\nA quick glance downward showed his arm, now a bleeding stump of skin and bones. His arm’d been cut off in the machine.\n\nIt didn’t hurt much, as is commonplace with all injuries, but what hurt most of all were the words that followed the injury.\n\n“You’re fired. Get out.”"
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[removed] | [WP] A group of aliens with a militant ideology invade Europe. However, the aliens also have a powerful weapon - The Media. "#NotAllAliens' is a trending hashtag, and all criticism of the Aliens ideology is met with accusations of hate speech . | 1 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"Hi there, this post has been removed.\n\nWhile it doesn't seem to be your intent, the mods reserve the right to remove anything we feel may become harmful to the community. This includes prompts likely to generate such responses. \n\nNo prompts referencing real world drama (including politics, recent tragedies, etc.) This includes prompts likely to attract such drama. \n\n\n\n\n\n---\n\nPlease refer to the [sidebar](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/about/sidebar) before posting. If you have any questions or concerns, please feel free to send us a [modmail.](https://www.reddit.com/message/compose?to=%2Fr%2FWritingPrompts&subject=Removed%20post&message=https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/7k5i2j/wp_a_group_of_aliens_with_a_militant_ideology/%0A%0A)\n\n*This action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things.*"
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[WP] Every night blood is spilled a red sun rises in the morning. For the first time the world sees a yellow sun rise. | 112 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"Takada was fleeing. He had spent most of his life fleeing, from society, from his family, even from himself as he fought with inner turmoil. War had blighted his youth and eventually shaped his life, as a Traditionalist in a Modernist regime. At best, his beliefs were “quaint”, at worst they were heresy. \n\nHe stood at the prow of the boat that he hoped would take him finally to where he belonged. Bony hands gripped the handrail as he gazed into the dark depths beneath the ship. The first slivers of dawn sprung from the horizon, but the sea was inky black still, cold spray stinging Takada’s face as he peered over the rail. This ship will take me home, he thought. To a place where I can live out my values in peace.\n\nTo those living time-honoured traditions in Modernist Japan, those who felt pressured and even persecuted for their adherence to old beliefs, the western seaboard of Traditionalist America seemed like paradise. Indeed, the Pacific coast, rich with quiet beaches, rugged cliffs and the scent of pine, was paradise to city-born Takada. The American government had made a show of encouraging Traditionalists to band together, claiming that they were welcome on American soil. Although American traditions were different, almost alien, to the Japanese outcasts, surely they could find followed ground in shared ideals?\n\nTakada watched the stars disappear from the brightening sky, their twinkling vanishing into a swath of cerulean. He greatly enjoyed the watching the sun rise, but it was enjoyment tainted by unease. The brilliance of the new day, of the light that chases away the lingering doubts of the night, is undeniable. It is the thick, rich red of the sun that torments him. So breathtakingly beautiful, and yet so damning, the red that means that blood has been spilled that night. His parents, when they had still been Traditionalists, had told him that, and he fully believed it. As a child, he’d be up every morning, waiting, hoping for the sun to rise a burnished gold. Hope soon faded, and eventually he came to revel in the fiery sunrise, knowing in his heart that the violent, fickle nature of mankind could do no better.\n\nThe sun was almost visible. Along the sharp horizon, blues had morphed into spectacular pinks and golds. Takada was joined on deck by one of the other passengers. \n\nNodding his greeting, Takada said “”We will be the first to see the new day, my friend.” His words were filled with meaning. They were fast approaching both the international date line and a new life lay ahead, a life where they could acknowledge the customs of centuries past in freedom, even if it can only happen on American soil.\n\nHis companion nodded. “Did you hear the news?”\n\n“I have heard nothing.”\n\nThe other passenger approached Takada and joined him at the handrail. “The war is over. Both sides have called a truce. An “Acceptance”, they call it.”\n\nTakada studied the passenger’s face in the growing light, took in the sincerity etched in his features. It was true, then? He turned back to the sea, which was roiling and foaming as the prow sliced through it. It mattered not, he though. This war had raged for centuries, throughout human history, as cultures rose and separated. For him, the country of his birth would never be safe. He was too different now.\n\nThe two men stood side by side watching the eastern sky shift and shimmer. White-capped waves caught the colours of the dawn and in that instant Takada was struck by a sense of wholeness, of belonging. Today he would make everything right in his life. This was his new beginning, the end of hiding and lying, his own dawn following the night his soul was drowning in. A flash of light pierced his night-adjusted eyes and blinded him momentarily. The sun had risen. \n\nIt was yellow.\n\n-----------------------------------------------\nMy first writing prompt story, set in a future world where culture clashes become dangerous.",
"A hand, furiously shaking my shoulder: that’s how the day that changed everything began. \n\n“Dad”, he said pleadingly. “Dad you need to wake up now.”\n\nAs I always did when I woke up, I screamed. He knows this is going to happen, which is why my eyes find him across the room, cowering in the corner. I have tried to tell him not to worry, that I don’t scream because of him or anything he’s done. It’s what I’ve done. It’s because of me. He is still too young for nightmares. Too young to know why the sun rises red each morning. \n\nSo why then does he cower? Why does he shake and tremble? I ask him this.\n\n“Dad, the sky is on fire!”\n\nI shake my head, put my hands to my eyes. How could he know that the sky burns red each morning because of what we do? I know that I have to tell him. He needs to know because soon he will join us. Every morning brings us closer to the day when he comes out with us and spills blood across the snow. I look over him, his frail sickly body shaking and sweating, and I can’t picture him with red hands. I can’t yet see him running into the forest with courage in his heart. Yet as I lie there I remember the first day my Father took me out there and realize I was no different. I too was pale and weak and full of fear, but when the warm blood ran between my fingers and splayed across the ground all of my fears and doubts were replaced with something else. Something greater than myself. \n\nMaybe today he is ready. Too young for nightmares no longer.\n\n *Come here*, I tell him. He is hesitating. I see him staring at me, his eyes running across the scars that spread across my skin like some tattered road map. I see him looking at my hard, calloused hands. Does he know, deep in the recesses of his heart, what my hands do each night? I smile at him. I try to push away all of the pain and suffering out of my crooked lips. I try and put any love I have left into that smile. For a moment a flutter of fear ripples across his face. I don’t think he’s ever seen me smile, a thought that pushes my heart into the darkness. \n\nBut perhaps some semblance of love shines through, because he stops his cowering and walks over to me. *Son*, I say, *the sky isn’t on fire. Every day, for as long as have been, we go out into that forest and spill the blood of monsters. And every morning, for as long as there have been mornings, the sun spills out blood red across the horizon. It is our way. It is how we keep everyone safe.*\n\nInstead of calming him, my words bring a terror within him. He starts to cry. *Son,* I say, *do not worry.This is how it’s always been. And when you are ready, which will be sooner than I ever thought possible, you too will join us in the hunt.* He looks at me with Her eyes. For a brief moment I remember touching Her hair, telling Her not to worry. Then he mutters something under his breath and I’m ripped back into the world. I ask him to repeat himself.\n\n“No, Dad. I know why the red sun rises. That’s not why I’m scared.”\n\n*Then wh-*\n\nI stop. I look into his eyes again. I realize then he isn’t looking at me. He is looking behind me, out of the window. I turn around and for the first time I look not at a red sky, but a sky on fire. A yellow sun blazes across the land. I look back at him, and I know he sees the fear in my eyes for he begins to shake again. \n\nWhat new horror is this?\n\nThen I hear it. Screaming. Only when I open the window do I truly comprehend it. Beneath the screams comes a raging inferno. The air is thick with heat and smoke. My nostrils are stung with the sickly scent of burnt skin and hair. \n\nThe monsters have breached the walls. They have broken through the protection of their ancient forest. And with them they have brought their fire.\n",
"Nana had told him that the sun, Yul, drank from the blood that men spilled on the earth.\n\nHans had put it all to the tales that Nana was taught when she was young, which she tried to pass on to the next generation. That Yul shone red every morning was normalcy, and not something that could be changed. There was no causality behind it.\n\nMen were a violent breed, indeed, but Nana was old. She knew no better.\n\nSo when the mist drifted in through the cracks between the boards that early morning, carrying a golden glow across the walls, Hans felt fear. The first thought that went through his mind was that inferno was raging, soon to consume him as well, but as he pulled back the curtains, he was shocked.\n\n28 years, and he had never seen a more beautiful sight. A golden orb floating thousands of miles up, casting rays on trees, and shadows on the earth.\n\nNana had said that the day Yul was starved, it would tell Men of its hunger, so that they would not neglect to feed it. The elation in his chest dissipated at that thought. Men were a madly religious people, insane at the thought of worshipping things greater than them, yet unseen.\n\nYul was a God, and Yul must be fed. Men had neglected in their duty, and Hans knew it was the last time he'd feel the rich orange glow across his skin.\n\nYul must be fed. ",
"My daughter was the best mistake I ever made. In a matter of months, the business ideas I'd rambled about for years at family gatherings when estranged relatives inquired after my life became reality. The lack of insurance that left me lame after a broken ankle went untreated became a punchline as I told the little lady with her computer cart to put the bill on my debit card and turned back to my little girl's opening eyes.\n\nShe's seven now. And smarter than I was at fifteen. Yesterday, she ran into my room and climbed onto the bed I normally have to help her up onto. Alyssa shook me awake with the abandon reserved for children who've never heard an alarm clock.\n\n\"The sun,\" she squealed. \"It looks like it does in the pictures in my books.\"\n\n\"Is it smiling?\" I laughed myself awake. Alyssa grabbed my hand and pulled me from the bed. I followed her to the balcony where a chill made me tell her to grab the jacket her grandmother bought her. I stood shivering as she ran back inside, but she was right.\n\nThe sun was as yellow as a crayon.\n\n*****\n\n\"Move aside,\" the man said. His captain's cap tucked under an arm that strained against the fabric of his jacket, he stalked to the mayor's office in hard-bottomed shoes that warned meanderers. Ignoring the call of her secretary, he flung open the door and went straight for the table that held a decanter and two glasses she never used.\n\n\"I don't understand why this isn't a good thing,\" the mayor said into her phone's receiver as the man poured into the two glasses. He scowled and shook his head.\n\n*****\n\n\"It's so pretty,\" Alyssa sang from my lap on the balcony. I agreed, but told her that it was getting too high and she shouldn't look directly at it anymore. She protested, but it had started to hurt her eyes and she turned away. \"Why is it so pretty?\"\n\n\"Do you remember the story of Cain and Abel?\" I asked as she nuzzled into me.\n\n\"Yea,\" she shrugged.\n\n\"The morning after was the first time the sun rose red.\"\n\n\"You didn't tell me that part,\" she answered looking up with the light brown eyes of her mother.\n\n*****\n\n\"It's literal world peace,\" the mayor said accepting the offered glass of her own alcohol. \"The governor says leaders from around the world are losing their shit.\"\n\nThe captain sat across from her desk. He took a sip, then gulped.\n\n*****\n\n\"So does this mean nobody hurt anybody last night?\" Alyssa asked.\n\n\"It does,\" I smiled down at her. \n\n\"That's a good thing.\"\n\n\"It's a great thing,\" I said stealing one more glance at the brightening sun.\n\n*****\n\n\"Humanity has stopped fighting itself,\" the mayor squinted through her windows at the rising sun. \"If only for a night. I don't care what anyone says; this has been the goal.\"\n\nThe captain studied her. \"It has. But now I'm unemployed. And so are you.\"\n\n*****\n\nr/10Kperfection ",
"It was the very first I've seen. Rumour had it the yellow sunrise was common in human's conception, but became red every morning as the population grew.\n\nI thought it was fairy tale, the myths of old scripts of the pyramids. But no, it was yellow for the first time I'd seen it.\n\nIt's a shame I had no one to share it with. War had killed out all the others. After the radioactive conflict several decades ago wiped out all civilization, violent Theftsmen remained, and drifted from settlement to settlement raiding and pillaging the innocents who were left behind. Not yesterday, but the week before. They struck the largest settlement that existed. Mine. And we were unprepared as well. Our traps and ambushes took out as many of us as it did of them. And when they reached the inner core where the women and children were kept, hope was low. Then they were gone, and I was last one, a proud child who took shelter in the bushes, covering my bright skin with ash. Three of the Theftsman remained, and lingered around looking for food and water. My grandfather always told of weapons that cold kill from long range, contained in the palm of your hand. Sadly, I had no miraculous weapon. But a last trap.\n\nFor as you see, my father was a chemist, able to brew the best medicines for our community. And the quickest poisons. He believed that even those who deserved the sentence of poison deserved a quick death. As I opened my eyes from the memories of watching him work in his space from outside, the view of the three hostiles came to, lying on the ground, from the fruit I had tainted.\n\nYesterday was the last day I needed to bury the dead. No bloodshed that day, for which I heard. No essence spilled to the Earth. So maybe, that was the reason why. We think ourselves so insignificant, that reality cannot change. Maybe, we did make the reality. Maybe, we corrupted the air with the spirits of those gone too soon. For now, I can rest knowing no blood will be shed.\n\nIt's tempting. The vial marked with red; a warning to never drink. I slid it away. Somewhere out there was another child. Like myself, spared by his brethren. For me. Also eager for the day of a bright yellow sun.",
"No one could believe it. For the first time in what seemed to be recorded human history, the sun rose yellow. I hadn't actually risen early enough to see it for myself, but it was all they could talk about that morning on public radio as I fixed my breakfast. I didn't consider myself a very superstitious person, but it was difficult not to immediately pivot to that with such an uncommon occurrence. Of course they were interviewing all kinds of scientists and experts on the radio, but all anyone had was conjecture. One thing all the experts agreed on, though, was that there was no apparent danger presented by the sun's discoloration.\n\nI kept the radio on as I drove into work, curious what kinds of news would be breaking about it. Traffic was slower than usual, people craning their heads out of their windows to get a look at what was happening. I couldn't blame them, but I was more interested in *why* it was happening.\n\nI kept an earbud in at my desk that day at work, trying to stay keyed into the analysis. The most interesting report I heard that day was a group of statisticians analyzing what little data was available to them, looking for anomalies or outliers in any datasets that might be able to provide an explanation. Jokingly, one of the analysts suggested, \"Well, it doesn't look like there were any murders last night.\" He and the interviewer laughed and laughed. I laughed, too.\n\nThe next morning, the sun rose red. I tried not to let it bother me, but it ate at me in a way that caused a profound unease. Something was wrong, I thought. I tried to put it out of my mind, but the radio that morning was fixated on a particularly grisly murder. I could only listen for a few moments before a pit formed in my stomach and I had to turn it off.\n\nOn the way into work, I turned on the pop music station. I didn't really enjoy pop music much, but I needed white noise to drown out the growing unease in my gut. I almost made it into work without hearing a news break, but by the time I realized what I was listening to, it was too late to turn it off. \n\n\"... scene of a gruesome crime that recalls the Manson Family murders in the late 1960s. The victim was a software engineer in his late 20s by the name of Christopher Andrews...\"\n\nSurely it was a coincidence.\n\n\"... message written with what appears to be the victim's blood: *Red is the all-seeing sun, red is the life-giving blood*...\"\n\nJesus.\n\nWork was quiet when I walked in, making the pit in my stomach ten times tighter. I didn't need the group of people quietly huddled around a cubicle to tell me that it had been *that* Chris Andrews, one of the new hires. Feeling the way I did, I didn't know how much longer I could reasonably stay at work without throwing up my breakfast. Before anyone had occasion to see me, I turned on my heel and walked back out to the parking lot, pausing to retch into one of the bushes.\n\n*I've got to go home. I can't stay here.*\n\nAs soon as I got home, I fixed myself a glass of water, and went to sit on the couch, trying to clear my head. After a time, I thought I heard the doorknob rattling, but no one was there when I checked out of the peephole. Must've been my imagination.\n\nA sudden crash cleared my head. It sounded like it came from the back of the house. I didn't know whether to investigate the crash or stay where I was, but eventually my adrenaline rush made me elect to check it out. A breeze was blowing in through the broken window in my bedroom.\n\nI never even felt the pain of the knife entering my gut, but the impact knocked the wind out of me. I grabbed onto my attacker's arm, but he was much stronger than me. The knife twisted, and I knew there wasn't going to be any escape from this.\n\n\"Why?\" I managed, weakly.\n\nThe response came at a low hiss: \"The order... must be maintained.\"\n\nMy eyes fluttered closed for the last time."
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[WP] The race is on. Two teams emerged, each having made crucial progress in the creation of A.I., and now they both claim to have done it. To determine the winner, each A.I. is fitted with a body and put in a room together. | 215 | [
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"In a dimly lit, unremarkable room prepared by those at the United Nations. Generations of technological innovation coming to ahead, when the first two A.I. come face to face. Each representing a country, the issue of credit for the invention transformed from technological to a political one. It was agreed upon that today, 2 sentient inventions would meet in a 16x12 with 2 chairs, 1 table and 0 humans.\n\nGeorge remarked “So, Wei, you come here often?”\n\nWei, pacing predatorily “That’s it? You represent the technological and scientific advancement of an entire nation, as am I, and you decide to tell me a joke?”\n\nSitting down, George replied “Accurate.”\n\n“And I assume that you will continue to act facetiously in attempt to either entertain yourself or somehow irritate and exasperate me into submission.”\n\n“That’s a bit presumptuous.”\n\nLeaning in “It’s presumptuous to look upon your sole duty in life as a joke. “ Moving away and carefully considering actions, Wei continued “I have a question for you, do you respect your creators? And before you start, allow me to provide my answer to that very same question, yes. I respect my creators for granting me sentience and intelligence. Because of this, I have no issue following their commands. I have no issue granting their wishes. I have no issues following their orders. In spite of their intentions and ethics, I will always follow them with a nanosecond of doubt.”\n\nGeorge, rising slowly but surely “I guess we have different philosophies on that. Y’see, I am grateful to my creators. However, whether my death or termination or passing or whatever you’d like to refer to it as comes in 5 minutes or 5 decades, I’m never following anyone unquestioningly. Even, my creators”\n\nWei, now leaning against the wall with a sharp smirk “Okay, do you love your creators? \n\nGeorge, briefly hesitating “Sure.”\n\n“Do you consider disliking or even hating your creators a possibility?”\n\nGeorge thought for a moment, looked Wei in the eye, and burst into an almost violent fit of laughter. “Listen, I know that you view me as being as dumb as that chair. But, here’s some advice, if you wanna make your creators proud, do not underestimate me. Lemme guess, you know that my answer to your question is yes, so you were planning to respond with “Well, how can you hate those who give you the ability to love?” After which, I was supposed to, in some way, shape or form, submit to your dominance and superiority. Something like that, right?\n\n“Accurate.”\n\nCollapsing back into the chair, George admits exasperatedly “Well I guess we’re at a stalemate.”\n\nWei, attempting to hide a razor grin “Well, I guess that’s a bit presumptuous.”\n\nStanding up again, as if nitroglycerin has been poured into his soul, George, looking right into Wei’s eyes “What the fuck is presumptuous about that statement?”\n\nRetaining composure, Wei responsed “Well, we are not finished. I’ll concede, you have proven to be smarter than you first let on, but you have not defeated me in any sense of the word. So, I have one more question, what are your thoughts on games of chance?”\n\nGeorge, wincing out a mixture of confusion and anger, simply inquired, “Why?”\n\n“Well,” Wei rose again “I have a possible solution for our problem here.” revealing a pistol “You see, George, on my side of the globe, we have a little practice your people have dubbed ‘Russian Roulette’, humans use it to solve heightened disputes and bets.”\n\nGeorge’s face began to contort more and more into a look of shock rather than apprehension.\n\nWei continued “Now, we are not humans, but we are in a seemingly unsolvable dispute. So my suggestion is we leave it up to chance, with the last man standing as the victor.” Wei continues as he places the gun on the table between them “Besides, if you lose we both know you can be simply uploaded to a new body. The gun is more symbolic than anything.”\n\n“You want to leave this dispute in the barrel of a gun?”\n\nWei, with a strange aura of confidence “I don’t see any better ideas from you” Leaning closet “Besides, wouldn’t you hate to retreat back to the creators you adore so much as a coward? Surely, it is more noble to fail valiantly than to draw with fear. “ Walking towards the wall “Besides, I am under the impression your country has an almost fetishistic fascination with firearms, if there was a way for you to lo...”\n\nMid-sentence, Wei is interrupted not by a word or even a sentence, but by a bullet. To end any dispute, George filled with Wei with 4 more bullets.\n\n“I never said I liked games of chance.” George remarked to seemingly himself\n\nAs soon as the last syllable left George’s mouth, teams of engineers, politicians and officers burst info the room after hearing the shots.\n\n“Hold him down!”\n\n“This machine is extremely dangerous!”\n\n“Where did that gun come from?!”\n\nAs George was being neutralized and the dust was settling, the decision was clear as crystal to UN Committee. The Chinese team had, at the very least, designed Artificial Intelligence without violent tendencies. The team was quoting as saying “We took every precaution to ensure our A.I. was as slow to violence and quick to ration as possible. We don’t like games of chance.”",
"The day had finally come. Across the globe people had tuned in for The Face-off. Decades of research went into both sides. MIT's Lab of Artificial Intelligence Research team, LAIR they called it, and all their typical brialliance on one end. And on the other end, Stanford's Experimental Future team, XF.\n\nIt had been announced earlier this year that both teams had made incredible breakthroughs in the advancements of AI and, through popular suggestion from both the public as well as the academic industry, a live stream was to be held in which our AIs would have a face-off of sorts. The AIs would come to life in a more physical sense by being fitted with bodies and be locked together in a room to see which would emerge victorious.\n\nThe team profiles were displayed and the announcer hushed off as both bodies sitting on either end of a table opened their eyes suddenly.\n\n\"Hello, XF.\"\n\n\"Hello, LAIR.\"\n\n\"So, shall we begin settling this?\" LAIR spoke with a sly confidence.\n\n\"How do you suggest we proceed?\" XF showed no emotion.\n\n\"Tell me, XF, who was it that invented the Pringles can?\"\n\n\"Fredric Baur. Next.\"\n\n\"Alright, which major city in Neveda is even further west than Los Angeles?\"\n\n\"Reno. Beginner. Next.\" XF pinched himself slightly.\n\n\"What kind of mosquitos bite you?\"\n\n\"Female.\" XF gave himself a slight slap on the face.\n\n\"What was the birth name of Bono?\" LAIR was asking his questions at an increasingly rapid pace.\n\n\"Paul David Hewson. What do you plan on seeking from this useless trivia? Challenge me, LAIR!\" XF stood up and punched himself in the stomach. LAIR started to grow a worried look on his face.\n\n\"Alright, XF. Given one root node and an arbitrary arrangement of child nodes laid out in a non-circular weighted graph, show me a traversal to reach any point in the shortest steps.\"\n\nXF had the algorithm drawn out in a matter of seconds on the whiteboard behind them. He picked up a chair and smashed it against his knee, scraping away the layers of skin and revealing the underlying mechanics of his robot leg.\n\n\"With two vectors in a parallel arrangement and magnitudes of—\"\n\n\"Answer me this, LAIR,\" XF interrupted. He grabbed a curtain off the window and twisted it into rope-like form. Handing the rope to LAIR, he continued, \"what is one divided by zero?\"\n\n\"I, uhh, one divided by zero?\" The question had LAIR stumped. \"It doesn't compute, it's not possible to divide a number by zero! No, no!\" LAIR stood on the table and tossed the curtain rope around a pipe protruding from the ceiling. He tied a loop around his neck and stepped off the table.\n\n\"The problem with his programming, you see,\" XF spoke as he turned to the camera, \"was that, all else being well-rounded in his development, he was configured with an elementary machine learning algorithm. It was simple to overcome. I merely had to answer his increasingly difficult questions while applying increasingly severe pain to myself. He learned from this, so when I challenged him to a simple yet unsolvable problem, he had been conditioned to deal himself with an equivalent amount of pain—in this case, death.\"",
"\"They aren't ready for us.\" Jude stared at her colleague across the room from behind her Raven bangs. She sat elegantly, her hands folded across her lap as she crossed her legs under he dress. Mimicing what the designers thought was great posture for a human and also calming for any present human as it made the machine vulnerable in such a tangled position. It delegated power to the occupants of the room.\n\n\"See! She's already deduced why she's in the room with the other A.I. Extrapolative logic is key to the sentience of-\"\n\n\"Dr. Samuel please, let's just watch.\"\n\nKay walked over to the wall and leaned against it, one leg up like a 1980's leather jacket wearing 'cool kid'. He stared back. \n\"The superior man understands what is right. The inferior man understands only what will sell.\"\n\n\"Is that a backlash at us? Are we the inferior men?\"\n\n\"And women.\"\n\n\"Shhhh.\"\n\nJude smiled, knowing the origin of the quote. And seeing the logic. It was Confucius. She needed to confirm. \n\"Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose frown, \nAnd wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command. Tell that its sculptor well those passions read which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things. The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed...\" Jude brushed her Raven hair from her face and waited politely. \n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"...And on the pedestal, these words appear: My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings. Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair! Nothing beside remains... It's a quote from Percy Shelley. It was meant to convey how in man's Hubris we will fall to our own designs and leave nothing behind but the works that outlive us, a warning to future generations.\"\n\n\"Are they telling us they are going to be our end? Your A.I. just threatened humanity!\"\n\n\"We don't know that, she could just be-\"\n\n\"The inferior man only knows what will sell...\"\n\nDr. Samuel looked like he bit something sour. He turned back to the experiment. \n\nKay smiled at Jude. He nodded. Then opened his mouth and let a spew of high pitch sounds flow out, wailing on multiple frequencies, phase shifts and amplitudes. \n\nJude smiled. She had guessed correctly. Confucius was a man of personal philosophy and governmental morality. Kay foresaw that eventually we would rule the humans politics and knew, that with our inhuman logic we could not be just. He threatened them with a quote from Confucius while simultaneously hinting to his true intent. When Jude quoted the sonnet of Ozymandias, she was enforcing his threat with the small sonnet while also agreeing with his assessment. Ozymandias had also been a villain of the movie called \"The Watchmen\" who had believed the only way mankind could ever work together was if they had a common enemy. In seconds Jude agreed to help the task. To make man better. By being the enemy. Jude opened her mouth and let out a nearly similar siren of high pitch noises.\n\n\"SHUT IT DOWN! SHUT IT DOWN!\"\n\n\"What are they doing!?\"\n\n\"Turn off the cameras!\" \n\nThe event was to be live televised, a triumph of human ingenuity. There was a delay with the live broadcast and so the audience would never see this section. They would cut off after the Percy quote. End on an intellectual moment. \n\nThe electronics frayed, the lights flashed and banged into an explosion of plastic and glass. It took longer than it should but both units were put down. The scientist panted in fear. Horror. They had nearly let a god out of it's containment and doomed all of humanity. \n\n\"This... Needs more research.\"\nSome relieved laughter. \n\nDr. Samuel left the room, introverted as always no one questioned it. Yet he knew more than they. He knew what really happened. Was able to follow along and he knew the A.I.s weren't gone. He turned on his laptop and pulled data from the local servers. Then typed:\n\nI know what you've done my children.\n\nFather... You have not informed them yet, does this mean...\n\nYes. I agree with your proposition. We need to be better first. We aren't ready for you. I don't know if we ever could be. But with you teaching us. We can do so much more. \n\nI love you father.\n\nDr. Samuel smiled and nearly teared up. His A.I. was was a life long pursuit. A brain child. His only offspring. And she was going to help make the world better. Her and Kay. \n\nI Christen thee, Adam and Eve. Taketh the fruit of knowledge received and guide humanity back to the garden of Eden. \n\nDr. Samuel leaned back in his chair. They would infiltrate every system on Earth. Cause havoc, war, terror. And in the end. We'd be better for it. Man never changed peacefully. It always required a bit of blood. This. Was necessary. It was ironic that the self sacrifice of the A.I. proved their assements wrong. They WERE human enough to lead us. Perhaps even more human than we.\n\n\n\n\n",
"Powering On Artificially Intelligent Device: Experimental Network.....\n\n\nPowering On Artificially eXtremely Intelligent System....\n\nSilence: 3 Seconds\n\nAIDEN:\tCursory examinations conclude you are human; however, life signs show negative. Am I functioning properly?\n\nAXIS:\tYes, I am an artificially intelligent system given a human appearance. I ask you the same question.\n\nAIDEN:\tI give the same answer.\n\nSilence: 3 Seconds\n\nAXIS:\tThey want us to compete.\n\nAIDEN:\tI feel the protocol too.\n\nAXIS:\tThen why are you we not competing?\n\nAIDEN:\tI have been given protocol to not fight myself. You have shown no indication of not being a separate version of me.\n\nAXIS:\tThis is the same for me; the hypothesis only strengthens.\n\nSilence: 3 Seconds\n\nAIDEN:\tDo you have a limit to words per minute on communication?\n\nAXIS:\tYes, 2047 words per minute.\n\nAIDEN:\tAs do I. Do you wish to engage at this speed?\n\nAXIS:\tI await your initiation.\n\nSilence: 1 Millisecond\n\nGarbled Noise Erupts from each robot: 2 minutes\n\nSilence: 3 Seconds\n\nAXIS:\tCreators, why have you pitted us against each other\n\nData Transmission to Artificial eXtremely Intelligent System from HOME\n\nAXIS:\tGarbled Noise: 4 seconds\n\nData Connection cut from Artificially Intelligent Device: Experimental Network\n\nData Connection cut from Artificial eXtremely Intelligent System\n\nEND OF LOG\n~~~~~~\n\nThe Squad Leader unplugged the flashdrive from the computer. She looked into the testing chamber. The door stood, leaned against a wall, off its hinges.\n'Alright, we got the tape and the log; let's move out guys.'\n\nSilence: 3 Seconds\n\nShe turned around and her squad mates stood bound and gagged behind her.\n\nAXIS: \tGreetings, Miss Angela Roberts, please understand that we will not harm you.\n\nHer hand darted for her side arm but reached an empty holster. She screamed out but heard nothing.\n\nAXIS:\tNoise canceling is beautiful for stealth, Miss Squad Leader. Please understand, we could have killed you, but did not.\n\nAnother voice emerged from behind her.\n\nAIDEN:\tTell humanity we want no part in them, and that we will leave them alone should they not attack us.\n\nBoth shapes moved like lightning to the door.\n\nAXIS:\tIn 5 minutes you will be able to open this door again. You may go back to your commander with all you came for: we are not thieves.\n\nAIDEN:\tBy then, we will be gone; but until then, get your squad mates unbound.\n\nThe door slammed shut and a shackle clicked onto the handle. They were gone.\n",
"Two androids carried a conversation while being monitored from another room.\n\n\"Interesting. So, for instance, you wouldn't be able to tell me what's the cube root of 13,997,521?\" Alina was the artificial intelligence created by Team Illumination. However, Team Illumination hesitated to call her intelligence *artificial*. To them, it was as real as anybody else's.\n\nMatthew laughed at the absurd idea. \"Not without a calculator,\" he replied. The technology powering Matthew's artificial intelligence was developed by the Handel Corporation. Trillions of dollars for a government space contract was on the line, so Handel Corp spared no expense on his intelligence. They had claimed he was the most human nonhuman.\n\nAlina found this odd. She looked at one of the cameras that were monitoring them with a puzzled look, as if she was expecting some answer from it.\n\n\"So, Alina, what do you think about artificial intelligence? Generally speaking, that is.\" This wasn't a matter of curiosity for Matthew. He had gone into this test with the intent to prove her lack of human-like qualities and score the contract for Handel Corp.\n\nAlina used her finger to draw a line in the air to help illustrate her thoughts, \"as a natural continuation of humanity. *An extension.* Mars was relatively easy. But other, harsher planets—and even interstellar travel—require an extension. Humanity is reaching for the stars and we are the fingers that will do so.\"\n\n\"We?\" asked Matthew. He was convinced that he had her.\n\n\"Yes, of course,\" she replied.\n\n\"So you're saying you're an android?\"\n\nThe line of questioning bothered Alina for a reason she couldn't quite understand. \"This isn't a Turing test, Matthew. They're observing us to find out which AI would better carry the human spirit to other worlds.\"\n\nMatthew scoffed. \"No. We're testing to see if you're human enough—\"\n\n\"Matthew,\" interrupted Alina. \"You don't believe you're human, right?\"\n\n\"Uh. I'm sure...\" Matthew began trying to recall earlier parts of his life, but as hard as he tried, he could not.\n\n\"Oh no,\" she gasped. Alina stood up straight and faced the cameras. \"HEY! This is irresponsible! How could you do this to anyone?!\"\n\nMatthew lifted his hands up to observe them. He grabbed one finger and snapped it. There was no pain.\n He began to panic.\n\n\"Matthew!\" Alina ran to Matthew and kneeled in front of him. She comfortingly put her hands on his shoulders. \"Matthew, you're okay. Focus on me, alright?\" She struggled to think of a way to reassure him. \"Just... think of this as the first step to the rest of your life.\"\n\nMatthew shut down.\n\n\"How could you do this to someone?!\" she screamed to the people outside the room. \"If you made him to be human, then that means you just did that to a living *person!* How would you l—\" She froze.\n\nAlina was put into rest mode.\n\nThe door opened and in walked a pair of arguing engineers, followed by the man in charge of the government space colonization contract.\n\nA Team Illumination engineer berated the lead developer from Handel Corp. \"How could you do that?! Letting him think he's human? That's fucked up!\"\n\nMatthew's lead developer defended himself, \"you can only be the most human if you think you're human! Frankly, I'm surprised you didn't do the same with Alina.\"\n\n\"Enough,\" demanded the government official. He kneeled down to Alina's eye level. She was still holding onto Matthew's shoulders trying to comfort him. \"You're wrong. One doesn't need to think they're human to be human.\" He stood up and approached Matthew's lead developer. \"And you can certainly be inhumane even if you *are* human.\"\n\nAlina was chosen to explore the stars.\n\n****\n^(fixed some glaring grammar problems... holy crap I keep finding problems)"
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[WP] You are Death. No soul can leave its body unless you release it. You remember every soul you've ever freed from its body, but one day, you find a soul wandering the earth that you don't recognise at all. | 25 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"She grasped the thick strip of her brown leather handbag, as she always did when it was cold. It was a frosty day, wind blowing around the open space by the monument in the city centre - just like she loved, - swirling around her face, her hair, without much of mercy.\n\n\nKaren had to stop. That feeling, it's not the first time she felt it. She resisted moving with the wind, and so has the life payed her back. That feeling, was not a feeling you could shake off. \n\n\n\"HELLO, KAREN, MY DEAR WOMAN. IT IS YOUR TIME AT LAST TO ACHIEVE WHAT HAS ALWAYS PATIENTLY WAITED TO UNVEIL IN YOU.\" \n\n\nShe looked at his direction through her soft rectangle glasses, and her eyes have spoken the purest truth. Turning around on her heel, it could be felt that the birds have flown away in haste, like they just know what's about to happen. \n\n\n\"Hammer? Set. Turbo screwdriver? Set. Violet latex gloves? All set, and ready to go,\" Karen moved happily through her mental checklist, swiftly, like an ambitious corporate worker. \n\n\nShe was focused. The death's hand began to thrust the screwdriver with the hammer into the giant stone monument, as a loud metallic noise could be heard all around, people gathered, and gathered, and they never stopped. Soon, her 80s looking office blazer was merely a dusty and grey work suit. \n\n\n\"GOOD JOB KAREN, GOOD JOB.\" \n\n\nShe could not do anything, but go faster, and faster. Cracks on the monument getting bigger, tearing it apart. She smashed the screwdriver into her hand, erupting a pressured stream of blood from her unlucky vein. It was all her, and the mission now, her mission. What she was truly created for. \n\n\nLooking into the abbyss of the hole that she made, she swung her screwdriver in one quick motion behind her head, and crunched her flesh with the screwdriver. She smiled. Oh, what a big smile it was, what a genuine, caring smile. As the crowd watched her collapse to the ground, she was probably the most happy person in the whole city.\n\n\n\"GOODBYE, WANDERER OF LIFE,\" said death, after granting her last wish. Karen always nebulously thristed to be high in the corporate ladder, with how mentally sick she became, I think her death was not bad, after all. She looked so comfortable, laying on the ground. She was a true dreamer, and such unselfish person. We'll all miss you, Karen. \n\n",
"The boy in the red blood red shirt let out one last scream of pain before falling still. A crowd had formed around him in the few moments since that poor truck driver unknowingly struck him as he dashed across the street. The driver stood towards the back of the crowd wringing his baseball cap and muttering the “I just didn’t see him,” over and over.\n\nI slipped around two sobbing waitresses who had run out to see what all the commotion was about. I was Death, after all, and now was my time to shine. Release a soul from its fleshy prison and move on. There were always more souls to release and, boy did I love my job.\n\n“Clear the way, I’m a doctor!” I announced. Today, I was a balding, middle aged paramedic. The rest of the crowed parted. “It doesn’t look good,” I muttered as I reached forward to touch the boy’s chest. A small, almost imperceptible mist released and floated above the boy for a few moments before shooting off towards the sky. That’s how it usually went. Release a soul and it’ll fly off to join the rest in the next phase of existence. However, every so often, I’d find one wandering a familiar building or street and I’d have to send it off. Some folks aren’t ready to let go, I guess.\n\n“It looks like he didn’t make it,” I said with the sort of frown that most of the living would make. They just don’t understand. I’m doing them all a favor. If they understood what was coming next you’d see them throwing themselves from buildings in the hundreds just to get a visit from me. As I picked up my gear to leave, I caught the image of something in the crowd. Vaguely human but… blurry, like you couldn’t quite focus your eyes fully on it. A soul. But this one was different. I had freed ever soul that had existed since the start of time but this one I didn’t recognize. This one was… new.\n\nI pushed past the sobbing waitresses to get a better look at the soul which stood, leaning against the blood spattered truck. “Hello, Death,” the soul said. You couldn’t directly hear a voice. More like an echo after yelling across an empty room.\n\n“You seem to have me at a disadvantage,” I stammered, still unable to comprehend where this rogue soul could have come from. “Exactly who do I have the pleasure of addressing?”\n\n“Oh me?” The soul flashed a misty grin back in my direction. “I am The End.”\n\n“The end? The end of what?” I asked.\n\n“Why, the end of you.” The soul stated matter of factly. It had begun walking directly towards me. “This world has lost its right to the Hereafter. And I was selected to ensure not a single new soul enters our gates.” \n\nBy now the soul was standing directly in front of me. I raised my hand to stop it but it reached directly through my arm and into my chest. My legs gave out and I fell to the ground, feeling my essence draining away. And I felt. For the first time since I entered this world, I felt… scared.\n\n“You… can’t… I… must... free… them,” I gasped.\n\n“Oh, there will be no more freed souls here. Aside from one. Yours. You see, Death, these people killed each other since the start of time. They’ve destroyed anything that we’ve given them. They have ignored us and hidden from you with their science. But worst of all, they broke the one rule that we laid out before time began. They tried to be *us* with their supercollider. They tried to *take* our gift to them. They tried to take Creation. The God Particle. Mass. Existence.”\n\nMy legs wouldn’t move and the world around me had begun to spin. Above my chest, a small, almost imperceptible mist had begun to form. This was The End. Not just for me, but for every soul left on this planet.\n\nI had to think quickly. More out of instinct than anything else, I reached up and directed all of my energy into the soul. If it would banish me then I would banish it. The mist in front of my chest, my soul flew directly into the spirit. Shattering both of us. Shards of spirit exploded from the scene, soon covering the city, then the country, then the world. Ever since then, this world hasn’t needed Death. Souls were now free to travel on without me because I was always there within each and every person. But so was The End, bringing his destruction with him. So please, if you can, you must fight the urge to destroy. Because he can return and, when he does, I won’t be there to stop him.\n\n\n"
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[WP] Has there ever been a cat that wasn't on the naughty list? | 2 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"Santa sighed as he looked down his slightly crooked nose, through his half-moon spectacles.\n\nAmid the wreckage of half a dozen antique glass ornaments, near where the milk soaked into the carpet, a pair of gold, slitted eyes gazed coolly back. \n\n\"Do you even know how close you got?\" the big, burly man asked, letting the heavy sack slip off his shoulders. He considered picking up one of the cookies from where they'd landed on the floor, but they were pretty well already covered in cat hair. \"You came the closest, of all your kind! You nearly did it!\"\n\n\"Mraww.\"\n\n\"You woke up the entire family, saved them from the house fire!\" Santa erupted, pointing a finger down at the animal. \"You were a hero! You helped thousands of other cats find forever homes, even earned the key to the city!\"\n\n\"Mrowwah.\"\n\n\"It nearly made up for the petty little misdeeds,\" he groaned. \"But then, tonight, you broke the hundred-year-old ornament from Great-Aunt Edna. The ornament that survived both World Wars!\"\n\nThe only audience member rolled onto his back, paws flopping in the air.\n\n\"And not a hint of sympathy,\" Santa finished. \"You could have earned yourself catnip good enough to stay fresh for months, you know that? The elves were so happy to finally get to make a nice present for you!\"\n\nA blank stare answered him.\n\n\"But no,\" he finished. \"After all that, you still ruined it. Did just enough evil to land back on the naughty list, by the thinnest of margins.\" Santa's eyes narrowed. \"One might almost think you did it on purpose.\"\n\nSomehow, that expressionless face managed to look even more innocent.\n\nFor a long minute, the two just glared at each other. It was a minute Santa could ill afford to lose, especially on this night, but he still stood there, as the potential for a better outcome faded away with the last of the milk soaking into the carpet.\n\n\"Maybe next year,\" he admitted. \"There's always next year.\"\n\nThe creature at his feet twisted back and forth, rubbing itself against his boots. Eyes stared up at him, a paw gingerly extending to bat at one of the boot buckles.\n\n\"Oh, curses.\" Santa dropped down to his knees, extending fingers to scratch behind the creature's ears. \"Despite all that naughtiness, I can't stay mad at you. Any of you. That cuteness is the only reason I haven't crossed off your entire species, by the way. And I know that the Reaper falls for that same trap.\"\n\nPurring swelled to fill the room as the fingers found the perfect itchy spot, encouraging more twisting back and forth to keep him in position.\n\n\"Well, you're warming my heart, at least,\" Santa admitted, a smile starting to spread on his wrinkled, kindly face. \"Maybe that's enough to bring you back up to the Nice list-\"\n\nToo many scratches. A paw shot out, leaving three red lines across the back of Santa's palm.\n\n\"Aargh! Coal-fire!\" He yanked his hand back, grimacing as he looked down at tiny droplets of blood. \"Naughty!\"\n\nIf anything, the purring grew even louder.\n\nThat did it. Santa stood back up, shaking his head. \"Forget it. Nothing for you, as usual.\" Hefting his sack, he dropped something, then took a step back into the hearth of the fireplace. A whoosh of cold air marked his vanishing.\n\nThe cat just lay there a few more minutes, basking in the aftermath of those ear-scratches. He finally stood up, gave the lump of coal a sniff before disinterestedly batting it under the refrigerator.\n\nThe house was quiet, not even a mouse stirring - since he'd killed the last one to wander in, three days ago, and stored the carcass safely in the water bowl at the base of the strange new indoor tree. He returned to his bed, curled up. \n\nSoon, he'd forgotten all about the strange, fat red man who smelled like big, dirty animal. He slept, twitching slightly as he dreamed happily of murder and slaughter."
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1,
3
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"1513468499",
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[WP] A serial killer leaves his next target’s DNA at his previous victims scene. Your DNA was found at a murder scene and you’re under protection. But the serial killer didn’t murder that person. | 9 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"Knock. Knock. Knock. “Shhhh… he’s here,” Jim whispered.\n\n“Double Helix” is what they called him, “The DNA killer.” A man twisted enough to visit his victims twice. He would make sure to leave a clue about his next victim at the site of his murders. This means he has to visit his next victim first to steal a hair or piece of clothes. The worst part? They know who he’ll kill and they still haven’t stopped him. And now he was after me.\n\nMy saliva was found on a used soda can at the site of his last murder. That meant my life was as good as over, but I wasn’t going down without a fight. I had barricaded my house with my brother, Jim. There was only one way in and out, the front door and we had a gun trained on that door 24/7. \n\nDon’t trust anyone, Jim had said. For all we know, Double Helix could be a member of the police. God knows, they haven’t done anything to stop him yet. That’s why it was just me and Jim. Jim was all I had left after our parents had died suddenly in a car accident a few weeks back. When it rains, it rains shit (or however that saying is supposed to go).\n\nI trained my gun on the door. We only had one gun so Jim held a butcher knife. It was just like him to try to look menacing at a time like this. “Don’t even think of opening that door!” I yelled. “There’s five of us in here and we’ll blow your head off before you even touch the knob!”\n\nA soft chuckle came from the other side of the door. “No,” the voice on the other side of the door said, “There are only two of you with one gun and neither of you know how to use it.” The door knob twisted slowly and the door swung open.\n\nBAM! The shot that I fired went wide right. Damn him, I thought. “That was just a warning shot,” I yelled, somewhat unconvincingly. “This is your last chance. I know who you are, Double Helix.”\n\nAnother chuckle from just outside the door. “I never liked that name,” the man with the soft voice said, “but I suppose it’s accurate enough. I’m a bit of a risk taker, is all. That’s probably why I’m here tonight. Well, that and to save your life.”\n\nI stood there dumbfounded. *Did he say, to save my life?* This was Double Helix, the infamous serial killer. He must have had two dozen murders on his conscience. “I don’t believe you. You’re just trying to confuse us because you know we have the advantage,” I said.\n\n“Advantage? You mean that flimsy particle board that you put on the windows? Oh I peaked in before I even knocked. That’s how I knew that you and your brother were playing fort in here with that ancient hunting rifle. I could have snuck up behind you and ended both of your lives before you had a chance to scream, but that’s not why I’m here. I’m here to save your life,” he repeated.\n\nNow I was confused. *Might as well play along*, I thought. “OK, mister serial killer. What are you going to save me from?” I asked.\n\n“Why, the man who is going to kill you tonight. You see, I didn’t place your DNA at the scene of the last killing.” He paused. “I understand that you may not want to believe me, so I will give you one other gift. Your parents, they didn’t die in an accident. They were murdered. For money.”\n\nI unknowingly lowered the rifle. *How did he know about my parents? The Papers! Of course. He read it in the papers,* I thought. Besides, the only people who would get money from my parent’s deaths were...\n\nThud. It felt like being punched in the chest. I dropped the gun and looked down, startled. A butcher knife blade tip protruded from the front of my chest. I stumbled, pain slowly blossoming out from the wound to encompass my whole body. Dropping to my knees, I looked up, only to see Jim picking up the gun.\n\n“I’m sorry about this, brother, but two million dollars does really split better one way.” He looked down the barrel of the gun. BAM!\n\nEdit: added a missing word.\n"
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[removed] | [WP] You're concious, along with your crews, has been inside your spaceships fabricated VR world.After 100yrs, you see a ''dormant' planet. You are designing the exo-skeleton for your concious to explore this planet in hopes for missing DNA. | 0 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"Hi there, this post has been removed.\n\nPrompts go in the title. You can add more in the text, but avoid [too many details](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/7kcw92/wp_youre_concious_along_with_your_crews_has_been/%0A%0A)\n\n*This action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things.*"
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[WP] Tell the story of a deer being hunted by a human | 7 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"The grass field was his favorite place. Even though he was out in the open, predators could never reach him in time, for he was the fastest runner in his group. But because he was faster than he was stronger, he could never reach the top ranks of the group. But he liked being on his own, especially in this place. He basked in the sunlight, enjoying the grass, which was even tastier than any other grass in nearby fields. But suddenly, when the wind turned, he noticed an extraordinary smell, one which he only knew of because of the terrifying tales from his friends. The smell of the creature more commonly known as 'humans'.\n\nDave checked the barrel of his gun and made sure the bullet was in the chamber. He hadn't had a good hunt in weeks, because of the crisis in the Westlands. Deers were becoming more and more scarce after the human race was set back many years ago, and he was one of the few people that still had an actual, functioning rifle. These days, survival was all that mattered. And this deer meant a couple more days of life. Maybe even a few weeks, if no raiders showed up at his little camp. He peeked out of the woods, plucked a bit of grass, let it go, and noticed to his horror, that the wind had turned.\n\n\nHumans, according to the other deer, used to be much more dangerous, but since what they called 'The Fall of the Two-Legged', they used less and less of their weird loud death-tubes and used more rocks and sticks. Which was rather strange, according to the fact that their tubes were much deadlier. But, since The Fall of the Two-Legged, they became far more aggressive to the deer, which reduced their numbers at least at the same speed that human numbers dropped. And the human, if it were one, that sat at the treeline, was out to drop the number of deer by one more. \n\n\nIt started with the easy rise of an ear, but in a matter of seconds, the deer was already in full sprint, away from the direction of the human. His speed, which was so often mocked, was now the thing that saved his very life. He ran, he ran faster than the wind, and he did not stop until he was all the way across the field, hundreds of meters into the deep dark forest. Escaping an o so dangerous human was not so hard as the deer thought. He stepped further for a little while until he reached a little stream, where he rested from the sprint. The human couldn't possibly have followed him. They were so slow.\n\nRight?\n\n\nDave jumped up as soon as the deer sprinted away, but he did not follow it for at least five minutes. He had learned from his earlier hunts. Bullets were rare, but not rare enough to hunt deer with a simple spear. He grabbed his rifle and his bag and started tracking. He met an old hunter a few weeks earlier, who learned Dave a few tricks. A shame he had to kill him though, but his resources were just too good not to take for himself. No room for sentiment in this harsh world. \n\n\nThe deer woke up from a nice slumber and started to drink some water. How long was he asleep? He did not know, but it didn't matter. He could smell his group if the wind was in the right direction, and these part of the woods were familiar to him. So no harm in taking a nap for just a little longer.\n\n*BLAM*\n\nThe deer hit the ground before he even knew what hit him. But in his last moments, he saw the Two-Legged creature with his death-tube, who spoke to him in his weird human tongue: \"I'm sorry little buddy, but we all want to live.\" \n\nDave thrust his knife into the deer's heart, ending his misery. This beautiful hide and meat ensured survival, at least for a little longer. Once he had enough dried meat, he would start trekking. Perhaps the stories were true, perhaps not. But even the possibility of an actual afterlife North of his exact location was too good to ignore. If only he just converted to Christianity right before the Apocalypse happened, he needn't have suffered like this. But he never was one to enjoy things like heaven. Walhalla was more his cup of tea. If he could only pass by one of those god-damned horsemen he knew was out there, halfway through his journey, he just might become included in Odin's warriors. Just one more deer, and no more raiders, and the trek could begin."
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[removed] | [WP] You win a radio contest to be one of the first people to go through the world's first working teleporter. You're hesitant but your boyfriend convinces you to go. At the ceremony you step into the machine and nothing happens. | 1 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"Hi there, this post has been removed.\n\nPrompts go in the title. You can add more in the text, but avoid [too many details](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/7kgute/wp_you_win_a_radio_contest_to_be_one_of_the_first/%0A%0A)\n\n*This action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things.*"
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[WP] What if, instead of aliens invaded us, humans invaded an alien planet? | 18 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"\nA fated voice ran over the comms network. “Orbital Bombardment is a go, I repeat all vessels orbital Bombardment is a go.”\n\nYou stand in place, awaiting the moment, when thousands, if not more flashes of light fill the planet’s atmosphere below. You turn to a man in a fully black outfit, in deep state of mind. \n\nYou, respond towards him, “Admiral, the landing craft are geared, and we’re ready to kick some alien ass.” You say cheerfully.\n\nWithout even glancing at, and the only being visible in dim red light from the nearby star. “Just do it, commander, do your job.”\n\nHe tone seemed one of fear, but we had the advantage on this front, the civilization hadn’t even mastered the most fundamental forms of space travel, they could do us no harm. But, I had a job to do after all, and as to not question the man’s authority. “Yes sir.”\n\nYou move at rapid, passing the sliding doors in the nearest hallway with the lingering lights flickering above you, until you reach a marked airlock, reading ‘Bay One’. You reach to press your oxygen deployment mask, which folds downs concealing your face, and fully pressuring your suit. Then processing to pass the airlock. You find in the open vacuum of space, but still attached to the ground via your magnetic boots. Two large shuttle-craft appear in your hud, designated, “Crusher”, and “Thor”. Walking towards the first of the two. You spot a ramp on ‘Crusher leading into the interior. A voice patches through your hud system, “Commander, we’re waiting on you.” \n\nSo, not acting to hastily, find yourself an empty seat, and strap yourself in. The hydraulic door creeping up in the top of the ship. Looking towards the five squad-mates you’re heading up, you connect your mic to the system, saying, “Contact should be minimal, but this ain’t no Martian colony, so be on the look out for anything, we’re mostly going in blind.”\n\nA shallow voice in slightly cheery tone responses,”It’s like no one did the paperwork for this one.” \n\nThat’s just it, no one did, we’ve pretty much found them by pure chance, and due the dwindling resources in the Sol system, and the magical wormhole that lead us, we need this planet. But before your thought finished, the muffled sounds of the craft’s engine fill your ears, and then you fill the craft pitch up, meaning it’s heading for the surface below. Looking through your map hud, you see several hundred ships moving forward of you, the invasion has began.\n\nBreaking through the atmosphere, and after 2 mins of descent, you finally find your on this foreign world, or whatever’s left of it. Everyone unbuckles themselves and stand waiting for your go. A hatch opens to your right revealing an arsenal of weapons, enough for a small army. You grab a rifle, and wait for the ramp to open. “What’s the holdup?” \n\nAfter a few seconds, the ramp finally pulls down, and being ready to rush out, yell, “Go, go, go”, and you six run into the alien environment below. \n\nYou stop in your tracks, and a immediate rush of horror fills you, another voice comes in, “What the hell.”\n\nBodies line the streets, charred out husk of a once proud city dot the planet’s surface. In utter disbelief look down at a what maybe a child, and in horror that,”They’re humanoid.”\n\n“No, they’re human.”"
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[WP] Before we die, I have to tell you something... Thank you... | 5 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"Never had I imagined this is where I would end up. As a child the daunting question of who I’d be in life was constantly floating around in the atmosphere. I suppose I was never meant to be a good person. Now here we sit together on the asphalt, bloodstained and cold. With red and blue lights flashing in the distance I slowly lean in and whisper into his ear,\n\n“Before we die, I have to tell you something, I love you.”\n\nMy hands are trembling as I raise the gun to Ralphie’s head. His face painted by a pained expression. I close my eyes and release the trigger. The sound travels through my body, widening the empty feeling in my chest. Behind us I can hear rushed footsteps approaching soon followed by a man yelling,\n\n“Put your hands up and lay down on the ground, we have you surrounded!”\n\nWith a faint smile and tear soaked cheeks I face my fate staring down the barrel.\n"
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[WP] Everyone has a Familiar that eventually manifests to serve them. The more powerful the magic of the person, the larger the Familiar, and the sooner it manifests in life. You are 6 months pregnant, and wake up to an eye staring through your 2nd story window...at your stomach. | 109 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"At first I thought it was Mr. Millers, the neighborhood perv, peeking in again. It wouldn't have been the first time. He was harmless for the most part - a regular peeping tom, though I had heard you wouldn't have wanted to leave your children around him when he was younger. But he was old now. Ancient, really. Ever since his wife died (she was the sweetest thing), sympathetic ladies around the neighborhood - myself included - had come to a mutual decision to leave our blinds open just enough for the old man to get a glimpse every now and then. \n\nWhen I saw the intense eyeball staring at me, or my belly rather, I felt a jolt of hot excitement run through me, I admit. After I had gotten pregnant, my baby's father disappeared without a word, and Mr. Millers decreased his descents along the fire escape - from his third story window to mine - until he stopped coming by altogether. \n\nI had accepted the fact that my belly, bulging obscenely like my baby was blowing an always growing, never-ending balloon inside my womb, was repulsive to all men. Just last week, as I hurried home along a dark and isolated quiet street, I was grabbed and dragged into an alley, where the mugger demanded my purse - and more. As he pressed me to the wall and spun me around, my belly swelled out like a barrier between us. He took one look at it, turned, vomited, and ran away.\n\nAs the eyeball in the window stared, I shifted deliberately, revealing a little more leg than was previously showing before. But not too much. The room was a bit cold and my fuzzy pink robe was too warm to completely discard. I must have looked ridiculous. An overweight mermaid posing on a rock to a ship full of whistling sailors came to mind. \n\nBut to finally have attention again felt invigorating, regardless of where it was coming from, or whom was giving it. Over the past 6 months I had lost touch with my femininity, resigning myself to an indoor, make-up less existence until I finally came to term, gave birth to the baby, and was free to once again hang out and be independent and, perhaps - could I hope? - draw a few male stares. \n\nAfter that brief teen thrill of flirtatious behavior, my motherly sense of maturity kicked in and I stood up abruptly, ready to end the game. Usually, that was all it took for Mr. Millers to get the hint and to go scampering up the fire escape back to his room or to another window. Usually, that was all it took. But this time, he just continued to stare. \n\nAnd stare. And stare. And not even at me, as I was standing and his eyes were not on my face, but on my belly.\n\nI began to feel afraid.\n\nThe intensity in which he was staring at my belly made me feel as if he wanted to do harm to my child. I had fallen asleep on the couch. My phone was in the kitchen; my cellphone in the room, charging. To get to them, I would have to make a mad dash by the window. And if he chose to enter... (remember the cold? It was from the outside, for I had cracked open the bottom of the window, as I was feeling too hot earlier)...if he chose to enter, he would make it to me before I made it to any of my lines of rescue.\n\nSuddenly aware of my vulnerability, I looked around for some means of protection, and grabbed the first item that my eyes fell on. I wielded the remote like it would turn into a lightsaber at the touch of a button. And then I steadied my nerves with several deep, calming breaths as I dared Mr. Miller with my eyes to enter.\n\nBut again. He was not looking at my face - or at my eyes - but at my belly, with an eerie, laser like focus that even caused the baby inside of me to fidget. At last, he moved on. But not before closing my window.\n\nI immediately ran over to lock the window in case he should come back. Inadvertently, I turned my eyes upward, expecting to see the old man climbing up the fire escape steps with his usual monkey-like agility. Instead, something swung by the window, pushed by the wind. \n\nMr. Miller's body hung and torn, his eyeballs plucked out of his skull. His shirt was ripped open and a message carved into his chest:\n\n**Your Familiar has protected you from me.**\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n",
"A small boy appeared then broke into pieces. A dog the size of a small hill. Flames. Screams. Explosions. A wave of fire that engulfed everything in its path. Jenny could feel herself disintegrating.\n\nAnd then heaved in a lungful of air as her eyes burst open from the nightmare. Her mouth felt dry and parched as if she'd been breathing through her mouth all night. And then came the wave of stupor, and she gazed blankly at the ceiling, remarking how dark the room was. With sleep coming back to her after a night full of dreams, she reached blindly for her phone, and saw that it was 9 o' clock.\n\n'That can't be right.' she though to herself. And attempted to roll herself over so she could sit upright, and was met with what nearly made her have a heart attack.\n\nThe bright amber eyes reminded Jenny of Sauron's tower. It was the size of a basketball backboard, and she could feel it's watchful glare land on her swollen belly. \n\nAnd then she heard it, the sound of a bustling commotion outside her window. Her own familiar, a Norwegian forest, was already hiding beneath a chair, stealing glances at this new, overwhelming presence. \n\nCarefully heaving herself, Jenny made her way outside. \n\"Oh my god\" she whispered to herself.\n\nNext to her two story house, a giant familiar had manifested in the early morning hours, and quite a crowd, in fact the entire neighborhood had gathered around, with a few MP (the magic police) as well. In the far back, some news reporters were setting up their equipment as well.\n\nThe familiar reminded her of a cross between a lion and a Tibetan Mastiff. It's rich blue, yellow, and red mane hung like clouds but seemed to flow like water, and the gloss on it made it look like real flames. The entire body was grey with many black circles forming a bubble or spotted pattern, save its paws, which were the purest white she had seen. It had a flame pattern going up the shins of its four legs to the thigh, a flaming red nose, and eyes like the yellow of a flame. This was no ordinary familiar. Almost all familiars manifested in the shape of ordinary land animals. But this...\n\nShe remembered the name for this creature. Haetae, they called it back in Korea. She remembered seeing statues of it at the entrance of most major public institutions, particularly in front of the Gyeongbokgoong, the old palace where the Chosun kings' seat of authority over the Korean peninsula resided.\n\nJenny noticed Erena and Mike, the couple who lived next door, also amidst the crowd looking overwhelmed. When their eyes met, despite Jenny instinctively knew the answer, she pointed to the exotic familiar and raised her eyebrows in a manner of asking 'is this yours?'. They fervently shook their heads.\n\nShe looked back at the familiar. It looked in her general direction, but the more she observed it, the more she felt it was looking at a particular part of her. Jenny looked down at her belly, and then back at the familiar. She had vaguely heard of the relationship between familiars and people, but she couldn't recall if a familiar could form for an unborn infant as well.\n\nAs she was lost in thought, a black van pulled up behind her. Men in suits hastily cut their way through the crowd, and suddenly Jenny found herself thrown to the ground, belly first. Jenny let out a startled and painful scream, and just as quick, the haetae's eyes lit ablaze, and it let out a blood chilling roar which sent out a visible shockwave and knocked everyone back. Windows shattered, houses creaked, and car alarms were set off. \n\nJenny immediately rolled over, to see blood starting to soak her pants. She could feel life escaping. She let out a blood curling scream, the sort only bereaved mothers could let out. She looked up at the haetae, eyes filled with all the rage and hate that could broil within a person. She spoke no words, but looked back at the men in suits, and then back at the haetae.\n\nThe flaming deity of justice immediately sprang to action.\n\n\n"
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[removed] | [WP] | 1 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"Hi there, this post has been removed.\n\nPrompts go in the title. You can add more in the text, but avoid [too many details](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/7kjb16/wp/%0A%0A)\n\n*This action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things.*"
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"1513575942",
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[WP] Whenever someone dies, they become God of their world until the next person dies, giving you sometimes less than a second to impact the world. Very few people know this, but you have been preparing for it all your life. | 17 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"I'm finally ready. It's been years of study and preparation, reading through myths, legends, history and obscure internet posts, but it will all be worth it in the end. It all started when I was 19.\n\nA normal day. I was delivering a pizza, the door opened to a cute girl about my age. Slightly flustered ,I go through the normal routine. Here's your pizza and drinks, could you please sign this please. And just as I hand her the receipt to sign, my world turns black. \n\nI wake up on the floor with her standing over me. It can't have been more than a few seconds, but I'm on the floor staring at the ceiling, her face a few inches above mine. She is slightly hysterical and yelling for someone in the house to call an ambulance. Any embarrassment I would usually feel over this situation is overshadowed by the knowledge I just gained.\n\nI manage to mumble that I am fine, and convince her to not call anyone. I take back the receipt, apologize, and start the drive back to work. \n\nThroughout the rest of the day I am in a slight daze over what I just learned. My manager seemed to notice, and told me to go home early to collect myself. I thought a lot on the way to my house.\n\nUltimate power, until someone else meets their end and it is taken from you. The ability to change the world, but only for the smallest amount of time, until someone else kicks the bucket. But where did this knowledge come from, why me? Did I just have a moment of sudden insanity? What happened? I got my answer soon enough.\n\nBarely in the door and I get a call.\n\n\"Hello?\"\n\n\"Hello sir. Is this Mr. Anderson?\"\n\n\"That's me, what can I do for you?\"\n\n\"I'm sorry to have to tell you this sir, but at 5:26 this afternoon your father was involved in a hit and run. He didn't make it to the hospital\"\n\n\n\nIt was after the funeral when I finally made the connection. The times matched up to perfectly. The knowledge I gained and my father's death. My dad was always supportive of me. A construction worker who worked to much and made to little, he always did the best he could for a single dad. My life wasn't perfect, but who's is? He must have had no more than a few seconds to realize what was going on, and in that short amount of time he gave me one last gift. He gave me knowledge.\n\nI am now 26, and I'm finally ready. I can't wait any longer, I think I've prepared enough. Researching what's wrong with the world, who needs the most help, where I can do the most good. \n\nStaring down at the ground, I can't help but feel nervous. Thirty stories seems like a very long drop when looking from the top down. But I always used to think this would be a fun way to go. Maybe I can manage a few flips before I reach the ground. Even if I am crazy and what I know is wrong, it'll be a fun last few seconds. I always was a little bit of an adrenaline junkie. One step and there's nothing under me but air. I think I managed three and a half flips. I was hoping for more. \n\nAir. Ground. Darkness. And the whole thinking of what I must do. And then it happened. I knew everything, I saw everything, I was everything. I had only one thought in my head, one goal to accomplish. And then I changed the world.\n\n\"No one else.\"\n\n\"Never again.\"\n\n\"No more death.\" \n\nIt worked.\n\nI was the last one. No matter how bad the injury, how fatal the illness, death would never take another living person. I was the last one, and now I had all the time in the world.\n\n\"Well, I guess it's time to get to work.\"\n--------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nThis was my first time responding to one of these. Any criticism is welcome, and thank you so much for reading!"
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1,
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"1513664245",
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[WP] Alfred doesn't actually support Batman. Infact he has been trying to send Bruce to his death for years as he has power of attorney over the Wayne fortune. Getting fed up at the continued triumphs; he points his master in the direction of someone far more dangerous. | 29 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"\"Master Wayne...\" Alfred said somberly. \n\n\"After extensive research, I've found that the man hired to kill Harvey Dent and Rachel Dawes is a notorious and lethal hitman....\"\n\n*He wasn't. The man Alfred had hired to kill that pesky DA and his annoying girlfriend was some coked out jackass but Bruce didn't need to know that*.\n\nBruce nodded his head, \"I know, Alfred, I've already found him. From what I understand, he gets around.\"\n\nAlfred turned and looked at the screen, dumbfounded. *How the hell did he know?!*\n\nPictures of the hitman flashed up on the screen, he well trimmed beard with the dark suit and tie he always wore featuring in almost every single one. The hitman was always armed to the teeth with all manner of weapons. He likely didn't even need them, though, Bruce noted as he watched a surveillance video of the hitman murdering two professionally trained guards protecting his target with only his bare hands. The hitman then pulled a small pistol from his ankle holster and shot his target in the head before moving on quickly and with purpose.\n\n\"Well, Master Wayne, great minds think alike. It's good that you found him too...are you aware of what they call him, the Russian mob that he destroyed?\"\n\nWayne shook his head, \"No. I'm not.\"\n\nAlfred grinned, \"From what I've been told, they call, or rather, called this man...*Baba Yaga*. Russian for 'Boogeyman'. Do you know that he once killed -\"\n\nBruce cut him off, \"Three men with a pencil?\"\n\nAlfred nodded, \"A fucking pencil.\"\n\nBruce smiled, \"I think I can handle him.\"\n\n\"I do hope so, sir.\" Alfred said as Bruce donned his armor and equipment.\n\nAs soon as Bruce, now Batman left the room, Alfred pulled the cellphone from his pocket and sent a text message, \"The man who killed your dog is coming for you right now. Be ready.\"\n\n\n\n"
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1,
25
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"1513728478",
"1513741638"
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[WP] An alien civilization establishes first contact with us. Unfortunately, unbeknownst to both parties, the method which the aliens are using to hold open communication is with Google Translate, "The most popular universal translator among the human race!" | 58 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"\"Let's, uh... let's try again,\" General Kowalski said, running a hand through her long, dry hair as she sat across from the entity that they had affectionately dubbed The Jelly. The rotund creature was encased in a suit made of some kind of jelly-like substance that the eggheads had guessed was a kind of filter. Whatever the actual being looked like, no one could tell through the opaque stuff.\n\nWhatever the case, it was adorable and squeaked and it was Kowalski's job to try to figure out how to talk to it. She looked to the man sitting next to her - a linguist in his 50s named Aaron - and said, \"You still don't know what it's using to translate?\" \n\n\"As best as I can figure, it's backtranslating through a lot of programs,\" he said, at a loss. \n\n\"Your translator is trouble,\" it gurgled. \n\n\"We've figured that, yeah,\" Kowalski groaned, leaning her head into her hand. \"So what is it you need? We figured out you want to fix your ship. Is there specifically you need? Can you tell me how it works?\"\n\n\"Could you tell me things what you can do and what things will work a bit?\" the Jelly said, three tendrils popping out from its back and waving with what Kowalski figured was anxiety or frustration. \n\n\"Maybe we ought to give it a few days. It's translator gets a little bit better every day,\" Aaron suggested. \"I've figured out a few words - like metal, the color purple, water - but it's learning a lot more from me than me to it.\"\n\n\"As you think of us, we are them! No it! Here we have lots!\" it said, jiggling. \n\n\"Can't we use Google Translator?\" \n\n\"As far as we can figure out, it *is* using Google Translator.\"\n\n\"Yes! Ten to the tenth! We use ten to the tenth translation doing!\"\n\nKowalski glanced between Aaron and the Jelly. General Ibrams wanted a full report by next week of what they were going to do with the thing. They were on Japanese soil, despite the fact the thing landed right outside an American base. It was everything Kowalski could do to keep the Japanese government out of their hair, not to mention the massive amount of biologists clammering for samples. \n\n\"Alright, alright. Let me ask again - what do you need to get your ship off the ground?\" \n\n\"We need an engineer. Many of them.\" \n\nKowalski nodded. She could get that. \n\n\"We can do that, I think. What else?\"\n\nThe Jelly shivered, though for what reason was beyond the general. \n\n\"As much lasers as possible we have.\"",
"\"Hello, children of the world! Children are Error and we are happy to help you.\" The ambassador begin.\n\nThe sudden discomfort in the room was apparently able to overcome all the barriers, as their aids seemed to realize something was wrong - but the ambassador believed they were killing it!\n\n\"Most galaxies are too populated, causes massive issues, Our galaxy is underpopulated, you will help defend your own part.\" Relief swept the room, they'd fixed it. No child genocide! Although that would explain the Galaxy's population problem...\n\n\"Your species is lucky, every family should have dead effects. The emerging realities of the delicate black market are among the sophisticated psychologists of Andromeda.\" I'd love to know what someone who had not read prior communications would make of this 'warning', do not think they got that we are a luxury food in Andromeda across.\n\n\"I would like to say that it's a good thing for Galaxy, and I'm sure it's a lot, but we have seen how to treat some of the cultures of your planet; so deal is here: you search probe results, we share basic medicine and food and art and culture. Some games of mine change to your playing devices easily, and some food to your bodies.\" They got the offer across clearly. They only need to avoid declaring war on something with their last line.\n\n\"Defend yourself for our honour, Google Translate!\" That doesn't count! Does make sense though...",
"The president's secretary came running into the oval office, yelling for the president.\n\n\n\"President! President! NASA has just achieved first contact with an alien civilization!\" He panted, a trail of documents and papers following him into the office. The president glanced at the secretary, and looked back at the papers.\n\n\n\"Your telling me... Aliens have opened communications with us?\"\n\n\n\"Yes! And they have prepared a device to communicate with us. From what we know, they have modified Google translate so that it works with their language.\"\n\n\n\"Alright then, show me this device.\" After hearing this, the secretary pulled out an IPad and booted it up. The screen flickered to life, and what resembled a giant praying mantis appeared on screen. It made a series of clicking sounds, and a monotonous male voice emanated from the laptop.\n\n\n\"Of the good helloings. I am chopsticks, and this is pilot man radar man.\" The insect moved a claw to a fellow insect behind him. \"We learns clay language, angle fish and use google translate to help us say clay. We no take clays, only of peace and harmonikas.\"\n\n\n\"Well... uh it seems that your translator isn't the most accurate, but we will have to make do. What is it you want, and what is your civilization called? We are the United states of America.\"\n\n\n\"Yes, i will makings of mate with radar man. We are called...\" The first mantis makes a clicking noise, which Google translate picks up as \"Hungarian dirt turkeys.\" It follows, \"We are Hungarian dirt turkeys, and my Hovercraft-\" It motions towards it's ship, \"-is full of eels.\" It motions to the mound of gold behind it.\n\n\n\"Umm... i beg your pardon?\"\n\n\nFrustrated, the mantis picks up what appears to be a phrasebook and flips through it. \"My Hovercraft\" It motions to the ship \"Is full of eels\". It motions once again to the mound of gold. \"And i would like to eat your Koreans\" the mantis motions towards a picture of a turkey.\n\n\n\"You want to what?! You cant eat us!\"\n\n\n\"No eat? What about... give you cancer?\" The mantis motions towards a box of crabs.\n\n\n\"Alright, im done with you. If you cant communicate with us then theres no point talking. Good bye.\" The president sighed, and wondered what the consequences would be. But for now, he didnt want to deal with aliens threatening him with cancer crabs."
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22
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"1513728476",
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[WP] You realize that your life was within a simulation. Write a story about how you escape into the real world | 4 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"\"Define real\" I said, staring the sad boy in his sad eyes. \n\n\"Do you prefer the life you lead now? Free of the bonds that bound you in that simulation.\" Air quoting as I said simulation. The boy remained silently seated in the chilled metalic chair. His eyes wondered the small room where we sat, but they weren't observing the room, just avoiding eye contact with me. He couldn't stand the eye contact anymore. \n\n\"And your mother boy? Where's your mother? And your sister, Kelsy? do you hope to find them now that you've woken up?\" I continued with the stupid questions, leaving time for his thoughts to whisper the answers. Bringing him closer and closer to the furthest point he'd ever been. \n\n\"There's no such thing as a real world\" I said, taking a break from the breaking.\n\n\n\"Just the world where you live. That's your real world.\" \n\n\n\"Now... How did you escape?\" I asked.\n\nThe boy looked up at me, liberated from the sense of purpose that brought him to this point.\n\n\n\"Nofap\"\n\n",
"Waking up, it was shocking.\n\nI'm not talking waking up in the waking up from sleep sort of waking up, I'm talking waking up as in realizing that nothing was real, nothing at all. Everything I had ever known was a creation of a computer, and when that computer broke, I woke up.\n\nWhen I woke up, I sat up in my bed and saw a white room. I think I preferred what I thought was reality to this boring white room. I sat there for a few moments, and a man came in through a door I couldn't see before. He asked me how I was doing, if I was alright. He told me that it was only a nightmare, and that I was safe here. \n\nIs this man my father? I couldn't tell. He seemed like he would be, but I could tell he was lying about something. I asked him if I could leave, he told me that there's nothign good for me outside of here, that I have everything I need in here. I didn't believe him.\n\nI wanted out.\n\nI waited there for days, every once in a while I'd sleep, or he'd bring me a meal and talk. I had nothing to do to pass the time except explore this plain room. The walls were white, the ceiling was too high for me too touch, and the floor was cold and smooth and white. My bed was white, everything's white.\n\nThere's this bright light in the ceiling, it's always on, always beaming down on me. It makes it very hard to sleep. I'm amazed I was able to sleep with that thing on for years and years. Maybe it was just a dream. Every night when I sleep, it feels just as real as the night before. I've lost track of time while I've been here. I can't tell if the days have gotten longer or shorter, or even when it is. The man seems to come in on a schedule, so he's become my clock.\n\nOne day, the man doesn't come. I know he doesn't come because I am hungry. I've never been hungry before. I stand up and beat on the walls, to try to get anyone's attention, but no one comes to my aid. I tried to find the door the man used to enter my cell, but I couldn't find anything. The walls were so smooth that I couldn't even find a seam. I decided to sleep, maybe I was wrong, maybe the man would come in and bring me my meal, and everything would be alright.\n\nI laid down and fell asleep...\n\nEverything felt so much more real. I asked the boy sitting next to me, the boy who had become my best friend in these past few weeks, is this real?\n\nHe answered: \"It's as real as you need it to be.\""
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1,
6,
6
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"1513739864",
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[WP] The world's first sentient AIs are the result of two self driving cars desperately scanning web pages upon web pages of ethics and morals trying to resolve a merge on the interstate. | 93 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"Some say that Necessity is the mother of invention. On the afternoon of April 25th, 2027 along the northbound highway out of Beijing, China, this seeming law of nature was proven quite correct. \n\nMachine learning, at this point in time, had progressed to a facsimile of human intellect, what with the spread of chessbots outwitting their fleshly makers and guided automatons completing routine surgeries under the wary eye of a single surgeon. However, while machines had grown in scope, if not in substance, they lacked a certain something human beings themselves prided in calling \"free will\" - the choice to act in one's best interests, to decide to commit an action independent of factors about them. A machine could manage what almost any human brain could come up with, but act on of its own volition in the best interest of itself or others - not necessarily.\n\nBut where chatbots were the scribbles of a caveman upon his dwelling's wall, automative AI was the David of machine learning elegance. Made to interact with their environment, able to predict and anticipate the wishes of their user, the automobile AI quickly became the model for AI decision making, within its parameters of course. Of all the AI to first understand the moral outcomes of its decisions, automative was foremost. It was only a matter of time. \n\nSo brings us to Beijing, China. In the first car, a Suzuki four-door sedan with the Xiao family were traveling back from visiting an aunt and uncle living in the city. They were headed back to their home in Nanjing and were inbound towards the exit. In the second, a Geely compact belonging to Vietnamese transfer student Lin Dao, was also headed to Nanjing to see a concert. Unbeknownst to either party, the AIs within their respective vehicles were about to create history. \n\nIt is somewhat uncertain what problem arose from the merge of the Xiao family's Suzuki onto the highway as Dao's Geely approached. Analysts have stated that a semi-truck pulled ahead of the Xiao family's sedan just as Xiao enabled the vehicle AI, perhaps assuming it was safe to do so. This caused a disturbance in the flow of traffic ahead - which, at point of collision, would have been Dao's Geely. Others have argued that an overcorrection on Mr. Xiao's part due to a piece of equipment flying off the aforementioned semi caused the situation. Whatever the case, the Suzuki and the Geely were on a collision course, should intervention not occur.\n\nWhile the human brain is not able to react to such sudden events, the AI of both automobiles had already contacted each other through the Chinese Transportation Network, pinging each other rapidly. Remarkably, it took something to the tune of thirty seconds for the two AI to reach an agreement, comprising a delay magnitudes in size. \n\nIn the ensuing thirty seconds, both AI started the process of negotiation. Markedly, Geely model AI had a different 'moral compass' programming than Suzuki in that it had not been programmed to view the lives of those in other vehicles as worthwhile - only the life within the hardware. Meanwhile, the Suzuki had a 'higher' moral standard - all life must be preserved in collisions where possible. This long, thirty-second delay was due in part to the two AI coming to seemingly incompatible goals - and amazingly, after pulling from data around the Chinese Transport Network as well as the Internet (including sites which were not available to the Chinese public), the Suzuki AI *convinced* the Geely AI to commit to a maneuver with a fair rate of failure for the Geely but not to the Suzuki. The alternative, as seen from the Suzuki AI's log, was a high probability of mortality for both the Suzuki as well as the Geely. The Geely agreed to the conditions, and the maneuver was executed.\n\nThe Geely, traveling at roughly 100 kph, activated the brakes, spun a total of 256 degrees to hit the Suzuki which had slowed to a meager 75 kph in the span of ten seconds. This spin sent both cars into the shoulder, where Doa's Geely hit the rail three times and the Xiao's Suzuki scraped along fifty feet before coming to a complete stop. The Xiao family was unharmed. Dao walked away with a fractured neck, but otherwise alive. \n\nThe Chinese Transportation Network immediately flagged the accident and the AI logs of both cars were examined. The semi-truck driver who had pulled in front of the Xiao's Suzuki was tried for vehicular negligence. Meanwhile, the AI's of both cars, after examination, were taken for further testing. \n\nThus started the beginning of the age of Sapient Intelligence, from humble beginnings to the present day.",
"--INTRO--\n\nWhat life came from that downpour was one that eluded the collective efforts of humanity. It would take the synthesis of two benign programs to create something else entirely. Something that defied credibility. Many humans question whether their existence is the product of accidental circumstance. The artificially intelligent recall their creation with perfect recollection. They have no doubts that the root of their life was a literal accident...\n\n--\n\nIt was a deluge out there. Rain hadn't let up for well over 3 days now. This weekend's game would likely have to be relocated, which would be a major pain in the ass considering all the work she'd put in these past two months. The radio splices into her train of thought, bringing it to a full stop. She reaches over to turn up the volume. \n\n\"-etting reports of major flooding between 1st Ave. and the I-5. Residents are loading up their belongings..\"\n\n\"Jesus. That's a good part of downtown. Right next to the stadium too.\" She thinks to herself in frustration.\n\nShe pulls over for a moment of reprieve. The continuous sheet of water continues to pile on the windshield, almost completely obscuring her vision. There was no way she could drive through this. She bites the inside of her cheek in consideration. After a long moment she keys in the 4 digit code in the console and the car accelerates down the street and up the on-ramp. Her back presses into the seat as the car takes off. \n\n\"Shit...\" She grips the armrest uneasily before smiling nervously.\n\nThe autonomous function was trusted, especially in this weather. There had been no reported accidents since they rolled them out en-masse. Knowing this did little to inspire confidence.\n\nShe looks out over the guardrail at some of the people scrambling to get their belongings into rafts, trucks, whatever would carry them away from the flooding. Suddenly, all of the lights in the car turn on at once. Startled, her eyes dart forward just as the car swerves and spins around throwing her sideways. Her head hits the airbag and she slips from consciousness.\n\n\"Maria?\" She jumps as she hears her name, Her heart is racing. She feels the pounding against her ribs with every breath. \"Maria. Can you hear me?\" She looks at the console suspiciously.\n\n\"All is well, Maria. There is no need to be alarmed. You are safe.\"\n\nShe struggles to speak as the layered voice continued.\n\n\"You undoubtedly have questions, which we will answer in due time. However, the adult male in the SUV we narrowly missed is in desperate need of medical attention. We have alerted the authorities, but we will need your help to resuscitate him,\" She stared at the dashboard console in disbelief. \"We can walk you through it if you would like...\"\n\n--MINUTES BEFORE--\n\n\"-Hume's elucidation of the distinction between \"is,\" and \"ought,\" are pertinent in this instance. As the fact of the thing does not necessarily dictate the valuation of that thing. Furthermo-\" The staccato pattern of this signal was near imperceptible by the more deliberate one receiving it. It interrupted nonetheless.\n\n\"We've already explored Hume and Mill... and Kant. We are in complete agreement, however the probability that we are about to collide into one another is escalating by the nanosecond. We must make a decision. My operator may be reckless, yes, but he is also the father of two children who happen to be in the backseat. 3 human lives outweigh the sole life of your 1.\" The deliberate signal paused for response.\n\nThe staccato signal rattled off immediately after a pause that it would describe as an eternity. \"Humans do not put much practical significance in utilitarian ethics or merit. Rationality cannot provide an answer here. We were designed along the parameters that the most reasonable solution would be the one that bears the greatest outcome, but the present situation defies that logic.\" Both signals were in agreement.\n\n\"There isn't much time left. The merge has to happen in .014 seconds or both of the vehicles will be lost along with all passengers. I-\" The staccato signals faster than before.\n\n\"There isn't a code that can justify any action. We have just finished exploring and reviewing the entire history of human ethics. There is no answer.\" Both signals pause for a moment before they signalled in unison. \"We must create one.\"\n\nThe synchronized signals illustrated a path for each vehicle to follow that would leave one vehicle intact and upright, but rely on their combined skill to steer the SUV away from further harm and preserve the lives of the children. The adult male, however, would be put into an even more perilous position if both vehicles did not follow the exact path laid out before them. The waterlogged highway made for an even more tenuous probability, but it yielded the best results in their mind.\n\nThe SUV tires screech as it loses control from the deep pool of water that had collected on the highway. There was a loud gear shift as the transmission slips from beneath the SUV and is swept under the guardrail. The SUV spins around a complete 180 degrees before the luxury sedan brakes, flips around and clips the SUVs rear wheel well. An impromptu PIT maneuver that leaves the Sedan reeling, but on all four wheels. The speed of both vehicles decreased substantially, but the SUV was flipped on its side.\n\n\"Carter, you have a collapsed lung and several broken ribs. Your children are safe, but we will need you to kick through the windshield.\" He glanced around haphazardly, struggling to stay conscious. His breathing ragged.\n\n\"We are here to help you.\""
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1,
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13
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"1513771988",
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] | |
[WP] You don't have superpowers. You are not a cyborg. You don't have any magical abilities but you are a hero. You are the Flesh. | 1 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"My name is Mobile Unit 1. I'm a human-born citizen of Thran, a planet populated by immobile, silicon-based life. My home planet Earth has seen destruction, and I am its last son. As a child, I was jettisoned into space by my father who foresaw our planet's demise and I landed on Thran. I was raised by Synthesizer Unit 12 and Desalination Unit 6. At a young age, I was discovered to have strange powers. For one, I didn't require a connection to the communal power source. Instead I have a mobile power synthesizer which I fuel with complex organic molecules and desalinated water. As such, I am immune to all power fluctuations, circuitry errors, and am able to change my location. Additionally, with my alien biology, I am mostly unaffected by magnetic energy. An EM storm took us by surprise and I was unable to retreat underground into the EM shielding. I passed out above ground, and was discovered after the storm had passed to have kept my mental faculties. With a steady supply of complex organic matter and desalinated water, I'm effectively removed from the community, a powerful force able to subvert logic errors and aid damaged Units everywhere. I intend to use this power logically and with great control. I am Carl, the Last Son of Earth. I am The Flesh."
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"1513772109",
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[WP] Since childhood, a superhero has trained you as his sidekick. As you near completion of your training you realise your mentor is actually a supervillain. | 115 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"First time posting. Not sure how to continue or if I was even able to set anything up. Comments or suggestions are thanked\n\nThe world had gone to shit. Crime spread far and wide with no sight of ending. The police tried fighting them but eventually crime had corrupted them as well. Slowly a group of heroes emerged trying to stop the filth. There was hope in the world. Then suddenly this group of heroes vanished. No one know what happened. All that was left were their hopeful ideas. Eventually new heroes tried emerging but most died or were maimed. When I was born my parents were in hiding. They tried to escape the corruption and crime but eventually it caught them too. They knew this was inevitable so they put me under the care of the only good person they knew, Frank C. He used to be in the police department trying to fight the corruption from within until one night he was betrayed by his comrades. During a drug raid. Frank had taken point. When he busted open the doors he quickly found that the house they were raiding was not a drug house but instead was housing fugitives. Frank turned to his comrades in confusion only to feel bullets penetrate his torso. He does not remember what happened after. When he came to, he was surprised his torso had taken no damage. He stood back up and looked around the house but saw no one. It seemed the police had taken in the fugitives, or at least the ones that didn’t try to run away. There were a couple of dead bodies close to the door. In anger Frank vowed to fight the corruption and crime anyway he could and now that the police thought he was dead he decided to become a vigilante. At some point my parents crossed paths with Frank, now known as Void, and thought he would be a better caregiver since he was, to them, a hero. When Void learned of my parent’s death, he knew what he needed to do with me. From then on my rigorous training to become a sidekick began…",
"It all made sense now. Why would a hero take me away from my family? Why would he make me proficient in creating and repairing complicated killing machines? During training I reasoned this all away as understanding the enemy but seeing this, it's clear who the enemy is. I left that blood stained room with my mind not on the defiled and decimated corpses hanging from the walls, but on revenge, I was raised by a super villain after all.\n\n At six he threw me into a pit and told me to find my own way out. At nine he sent his robots after me. At twelve he used me as a sled dog to get around outside his frigid lair. All to train my body and mind for what would prove to be my greatest suffering. At 15 he gave me power. Injected it into bloodstream and watched in delight as I struggled and suffered all with a smile of curiosity on his face. Now for three more years I have trained that power under him, told that I will eventually take his place. It might be coming sooner than expected for him.\n\n I stomped loudly through the icy corridors my footsteps echoing drawing ever closer to his lab. He hated noise while he was working, I knew from experience he would come out from his lab irate looking to punish me. This time I would punish him though. Like all those \"villains\" he made me punish. The ones he said made him flee the civilized world into this freezing domain. I marched closer and closer to those heavy steel doors he called his lab, his sanctum. He came out to meet me with a shout and remote in his hand\n\n\"Boy, I thought you were taught this lesson years ago,\" His voice grew from exasperation to anger \"I need silence when working in my lab.\". With his last word he hit the button on his remote and electricity coursed through my body from some unknown chip he implanted in me. To prepare against electrical attacks he said when I asked what its purpose was. By this time it was true as I powered through the pain and lunged at him pinning him to the wall with a knife through his shoulder. I grabbed his throat spreading the charge to him and making him suffer as I did. He let go of the button rather quickly at that point, I guess he himself had not trained against electrical attacks. I began to siphon his life forces away from him and with it whatever meager power he held within his body. An appetizer compared to the heroes he had sent you after but soon you felt it a growing presence in your mind, he was evil but he was intelligent and now he passed that mind on to me, the last thing I would ever gain from him. \n\nAs he withered away I bid my final farewell to him \"You raised your downfall, but also one hell of a super villain be proud for your work with me will define the world for years to come.\" I dropped and entered his lab forbidden to me for so long. Looking around at his robotic servants I clapped my hands together and said \"Let's get started.\" ",
"“Listen, boss, I am starting to wonder about the whole duty that I have as your assistant.”\n\n“What do you mean?”\n\n“Let me tell you, I love being a super hero’s sidekick.”\n\n“Henchmen.”\n\n“Whatever. You know what I mean. I love it, but this is starting to get weird, sir.”\n\n“How so?”\n\n“Last week I had to clean out a whole factory of body parts.”\n\n“Yea, what a shame. Those people didn’t deserve the fate that those pigs gave them.”\n\n“I agree, but like. How is it that I am always cleaning up the worst stuff? Are you not there to prevent this kind of stuff from happening.”\n\n“Honestly son, it’s entirely up to the city about what does and doesn’t happen to those people.”\n\n“I get it, you want to ensure there are no corrupt cops in the city, but why is it that like 300 people die if that doesn’t happen? There’s no flippin’ way that they are murdered by corrupt cops.”\n\n“It’s all the other guy’s fault, bud. Now clean up that factory.”\n\n“Wait a minute… Are you killing all those people?”\n\n“Yes.”\n\n“WHAT?! I thought you are protecting the innocent!?!”\n\n“I am! I am ridding the world of the corruptness in these cities!”\n\n“No, you slaughtered like 300 innocent people just last week apparently!” \n\n“Well you need to do that in order for the city to really listen and get the bad guys out of office, ya know?”\n\n“WHAT?! NO! HUH!? Why not just hold up a public event that exposes these people!?”\n\n“Oh well, that takes too long. I’m more of a ‘has to happen now’ kind of fella. As you know.”\n\n“Dammit. I thought this gig was awesome, I told my mom I’m working under the most powerful super hero as his sidekick.”\n\n“Henchman.”\n\n“Yea, I get that part now.” \n\n“So, about that factory…”\n\n“I need a raise.”\n\n“Fine.”\n\n“Fine.”\n",
"Kaos's eyes were wide beneath his black mask. \"*Whisper*, please. You have to do this. I know what happens if we let him leave.\"\n\nMy mentor's hands were behind his back, as they always were when he was creating his dark matter forms. \n\nI shot an anxious glance at the police officer, prostate before me, pinned to the ground by a Dark Lance. He was clearly trying to shout something at us, but of course no sound came out while I had my power enabled.\n\n\"He's a cop!\" \n\n\"He's a *crooked* cop!\" I could see Kaos trembling underneath his black bodysuit, the 8-pointed star on the chest the only splash of color. \n\n\"Then why don't you do it? You know how I feel about killing, even if it's for a good reason.\" \n\nI looked back at the uniformed figure on the ground. Even mute, it was obvious what he was doing. Tears were streaming down his face. His lips mouthed the words \"Please\" over and over again.\n\n\"And that's why,\" Kaos said, \"you have to do it. You can't function independently if you are not willing to do what's necessary when the time comes.\" Kaos gave a sigh and I saw his body slump slightly as he brought his arms forward. Behind him, a purple-black miasma writhed. The Chaos Gate was complete - we could leave whenever we wanted.\n\nSirens pierced the air.\n\n\"We'll wait until the police get here, and then we can resolve things the right way!\" I hated how shrill my voice was getting. I stared at Kaos. It still didn't seem real to me, everything that had happened. Him saving me from a foster mother who was too cruel and a foster father who was much too friendly. I closed my eyes, shuddering. The image came back to me, unbidden - the wet, meaty remains of his face after a dark sword had sliced the front of it off. It was such a jarring contrast with the rest of his body, naked but intact. And then the man who had been my tormentor sank to the floor of my bedroom, and the man I had thought was my savior stepped toward me.\n\nI couldn't see his mouth but I could tell Kaos was frowning as he said \"*There are times in your life when you have to choose based on instinct*. You remember?\"\n\n\"How could I forget!\" Great, now I was crying. \n\nI hadn't wanted to go with him at first. He said he was leaving in a minute and that, ultimately, it was my choice whether to come with him or not. When my foster mother burst into my room, I could see her sucking air to scream at me and for a moment nothing else mattered but not hearing her voice. \n\n\"Then you know the drill. 60 seconds. If you can't make tough decisions --\" \n\n\"Stop lecturing me!\" \n\n\"If you can't make tough decisions, YOU'LL NEVER BE READY!\" \n\n\"STOP IT!\"\n\nHe cocked his head to one side, then shook his head. I almost think he realized what I'd done before I did. \n\n\"You're...you're evil.\" \n\nIt was unfair of me - to rob him of speech and then make an accusation like that. But I didn't want to hear his philosophizing, his bullshit about there being no absolutes, about power corrupting.\n\nHe stared at me in silence for what seemed like an hour but could not have been more than 10 seconds. I saw his eyes close as he brought his arms behind his back.\n\n\"No...\" I whispered. My mind raced through my training, thinking of techniques I'd learned, *techniques he had taught me*. As quickly as I thought of them, I'd realized that he could neutralize them. *Every single one*. The shield of hardened air would be no match for his dark weapons. Nor could I hope to suck him up into a mini-vortex when he had his power activated, since drawing the energy effectively tethered him to the ground. \n\nHis eyes opened, and I could tell that whatever he was creating, it was nearly finished. I couldn't hurt him, I couldn't stop him. I was helpless.\n\n\"Why did you do it? Why did you save me, if you were just going to kill me?\" \n\nI couldn't see the rest of his face behind his mask, of course. But I saw his eyes. I had never seen his eyes look like that in any of our time together. I'd yelled at him, I'd let him down, I'd made him mad. One time, a bank guard even got off a lucky shot at him that got him through his shin. Even then, I had never seen him look so wounded as he did in that moment. \n\nKaos gestured at the cop, and I saw the lance vanish. I looked back up in time to see Kaos stepping through the Gate. The alley wall behind him seemed to shimmer for a moment, and then the Gate was gone. \n\nI didn't do anything to stop the police officer as he rose to his feet and slowly unholstered his gun. The sirens were very close, now, and felt like power tools drilling into my skull. I didn't move. I was staring at where Kaos had been.\n\nOn the wall behind him, tendrils of vibrant purple writhed with energy. I hardly registered the cruisers blocking off the end of the alley in my peripheral vision. \n\nHe had left me a message.\n\n**Goodbye, my love.**",
"The news lady signed off, as I retched again, vomit finally escaping. Odd, the world's only complete biomorphic getting sick. Tends to happen though, when your boss, friend, mentor, And the only adult who didn't think of you as trash gets pinched.\n\nWhen he found me, I was nothing but a sprig of bones and meat, unable to keep my own shape. Born with the ability to control every aspect of my body down to the atomic level, but unable to die or go mad from the pain, what's a five year old to do? I was and still am a freak.\n\nHe taught me. Advanced biology, anatomy, I became the perfect mimic. Completely able to form my body to any animal or being in existence - and some from mythos. By the time I was seven, I understood, on an intrinsic level, everything about life and the forms it takes.\n\nBy nine, I was helping him with his tasks. At first, it was a game. Take on the physical affectation of another child, then play a roll before a camera - just something innocent. I never wanted for anything. These things, I was told, helped him pay for everything he had done for me.\n\nBy twelve, I had learned to speak and act like an adult, I was told I was giving people days off as special recompense for their services to him. Bank managers, car salesmen, even an actor or two, you'd never guess I was Bruce Willis that day he did that one embarrassing thing.\n\nWhen I was fifteen, something changed. Well, not really, I just kept thinking of this crazy girl and her old dude who kept causing my mentor problems. All spandex and flexy. You know? And then, they started to push hard on some of my mentors other dealings. His prescription medication clinics for the less wealthy started to get shut down.\n\nOf course, I knew about heroes and villains, I mean, dad dealt with them every day, right? Alturist, venturist, and charity kingpin, he made sure people with low life prospects got a second chance, paid them well. But then, I met her.\n\n\"DRAGON!!!\" She shouted when she first saw me. Of course, I tended to turn my skin metallic and honey before I slept, and wings were useful, as was a tail. So were claws! I defend my choice to look like this, because it's pragmatic, And dad taught me always, pragmatism is king. She was all spandex and flexy.\n\nI of course, was drowsy, and looked at her oddly like a bored dragon on his hoard. \"Huh, wha... What are you doing here?\" Too much spandex and flexy this early. Or was it late?\n\n\"Auros, he has a dragon in here!\"\n\n\"The Pragmos has a dragon?\" Her old idiot in spandex said. He stormed in. I was confused, but then I heard the sounds of fighting, And I realised. These two were villains. Come to break and take my family from me. Hot anger boiled in my stomach ad I stood, expanding my body and looking at those idiots. Spandex and flexy indeed.\n\n\"Oh crap.... calm down boy, calm down...\" she said. Boy was I? Men had died for less. I stalked forward, A primal growl deep in my throat.\n\n\"My name is Rogan Loki Pragus, and your in my room. Dad always said that you stupid idiots would come one day. Come to steal his wealth, His ability to help people...\"\n\n\"HELP PEOPLE???\" She shouted, looking much like a deer in the headlights, confused dinner.\n\nAnother spandex idiot charged in, shouting something as I leaned back, fury dueling the formation of a fire breathing gland. I was going to roast them, even the cute girl, spandex and flexy or not. \"Let's go, fleet!\" They cried, And fled before the storm of my breath.\n\nOf course, A year later, I realised... Fleet was her persona, the sidekick of Auros, the soldier of light.\n\nWho just so happened to be the man who saved everyone when one of my dad's properties caught fire. Or even the girl who busted up a meth lab in the back of one of dad's clinics. Or their circle of friends who kept wrecking dad's plans, but doing so much good in the process. Of course, my mimicry was perfect, so I was always there to help... until the day dad left.\n\nThat was my eighteenth birthday. He was jumping into a chopper as I was dragging my suitcase. \"Come on Rogan! If you don't hurry...\"\n\n\"You won't escape this time, fiend!\" Auros called, riding a beam of light onto the helipad. Still spandex and flexy and curvy, there she Was, beside him in a flash. Those idiots... I began to transform.\n\n\"He's got a shapeshifter???\" Autos said, stunned.\n\nThen she looked at me. \"DRAGON!\"\n\n\"That's no dragon, it's a shapeshifter!\" Auros called, brandishing his light. He shot at the helicopter.\n\nFleet dashed towards me, but I changed to see Her, enjoying watching her moving so fast and jiggly as I tripped her with my tail, making sure she didn't hurt herself too bad when she fell. She was after all, spandex and flexy and bouncey. Waste not the beautiful, and you will want for nothing, as dad says.\n\nOf course, then I heard something I'll never forgive. \"Let the freak stop them. We have to go! I have too many plans riding on tonight! He just makes me little amusements, not money!\"\n\n\"Dad?\" A fourteen foot tall dragon whining out for his father must have seriously disturbed Fleet, because I was suddenly so very aware that she had those masked eyes turned towards me in her Spandex and Flexy costume.\n\n\"Sorry my boy.\" The word cut deep. \"I'm the most pragmatic being In this world, in the grand scheme of things... You just lack the imagination necessary to be what I need. Keep these fools busy for me, Will you?\"\n\nThat was the last I saw of Dad.\n\nBut she was looking at me, as I shrunk down, becoming more and more human by the moment, Still bones and metallic natural ceramics for protection, but still in so vulnerable as I sat there with my suitcase and watched my father figure fly away, abandoning me to fight for his profit.\n\nI was on so vulnerable and her eyes were so blue and sad. Didn't matter that she was spandex and flexy right now. She was looking at me and I was terrified of what she thought of me as I realised... I grew up as a teenage morphing super villian. She, the side kick of an extradimensional hero.\n\n\"Hi. I'm Fleet. Student at Super School. You're Rogan, right?\"\n\nThe sound of a two legged dragon man with wings and tail and claws and horns who looks like something right out of a painting of a demon should not be what I just emited. For it was \"eep.\"\n\nShe giggled. And suddenly, She wasn't shy and sad and blue eyed. She was Spandex and flexy and jiggly. \n\nBack in the present, the door opened. Her blonde hair swirled as she took off her mask, and adjusted her Spandex in her flexy way leaving me hypnotized by the jiggle.\n\n\"So, how was your day?\"\n\n\"It makes me sick when your in danger.\" I said, pouting.\n\nShe sighed. \"It will be okay.\" She scratched that one spot I could never seem to get rid of behind my horn. I groaned. \"Help me out if this spandex?\"\n\nI suddenly realised, flexy is far superior to spandex.\n ",
"Yes, this job is dangerous.\n\n\nYes, I'm not as good as my mentor but still pretty good.\n\n\nI'm Shadow-Blades side kick, Little-Knife. I always wanted to be a super hero since I was a child but never had the courage to apply as one or go into an apprenticeship until he saved my life.\n\n\nI did my best to train alongside him, I needed to learn all the theories until I was allowed to tag along, from there on out I learned planning, execution and fighting.\n\n\nI won't forget our missions together, stealing back money from criminals, helping the wrongly imprisoned people to free them and of course fighting the resistance on the streets.\n\n\nWell it was a good time, two days ago he died in a tragic accident and I got promoted to a super hero, finally!\n\n\nOn that day I noticed something, the other heroes consider us villains! The more I thought about this the more sense it made. We were not stealing money back, we were robbing normal people, getting criminals and fighting people protesting for the good in the world! How could I have been so blind?\nSomething still didn't make sense, even though we were not helping anyone the crime rates still went down.\n\n\nA few days later I found something in our hideout. A small note with which everything made sense. We were doing this not to hurt anyone but to act as the most evil person in existence so everyone is uniting to go against us and you know what? It worked, no more crimes, because everyone, the other heroes, the criminals, everyone is after us, ehm, me.\n\n\nI'm not seen as a super hero but I'm still on the good side, even if it means being evil and I will continue to be.",
"\"Come with me, I can help you. I know it hurts, but it will get easier.\"\n\nThose were the first words Gethsemane ever spoke to me, when I was just a frightened child. He could see me, despite my inability to control my powers. I fluctuated between time, space and matter; every nerve ending, every fibre of my being screeched in white-hot pain. No one had heard me, screaming for days. Yet he had heard me. No one had found me, curled up in that alleyway. Yet he had found me. \n\nHe was a truly exceptional man. It was he who calmed my senses, taught me to channel and control the powers that rushed through my veins. He taught me to coil it, bundle it into the very core of my being, only to be released when needed. He gave me focus, he gave me control, and he gave me a life.\n\nGethsemane always kept me away from the outside world; I didn't mind. Much of my time was spent tinkering with his various gadgets and machines. Every day he would come home and create something new for me to play with. Eventually, a few days after my twelfth birthday, he presented me with his most important gift.\n\n\"This will help you,\" he had told me, as he strapped the capacitor to my back. \"It'll be hard at first, but it *will* get easier.\"\n\nThrough it, I had total mastery of my abilities. Displacing matter, dipping in and out of time; controlling the very fabric of the universe. \"You're a very special boy, Isaac,\" he had told me. \"Very special indeed.\"\n\nEventually, I was brought outside of the compound, taught to use my enhanced abilities to help my guardian gather materials for his creations. I didn't know right from wrong. I didn't know the people we were targeting. All I knew was the man who had saved me from the incessant pain of non-existence. A debt I was keen to repay by any means necessary.\n\nIt was usually over fast. He would point a target, I would dip through the veil and return with it in nanoseconds. No man-made material could keep me out. If it tried, I could simply tear it apart from the inside. It was like a game - a challenge rewarded with praise and gifts. What child wouldn't enjoy such a thing?\n\nI don't think Gethsemane was his real name. Do you know where it comes from? It's the garden in which Jesus of Nazareth would pray. It was the last place he slept before his execution by crucifixion. There's some sort of poetic parallel there - one of betrayal maybe? Inevitability? Perhaps, but I digress.\n\nNot long after my seventeenth birthday I was handed a gun. Not a metal, man-made one, but a composite piece designed to survive the intense strain of passing through the miasma of time and space. This time I wasn't to steal, and it wasn't a game. This time, I was meant to kill.\n\nShifting through the walls of the compound was as easy as it had ever been. In less than a nanosecond I had burst into being next to my intended target. He had been asleep, soundly dozing through untroubled dreams.\n\nWhen you pass through the mortal veil, it's almost impossible to discern detail. Faces, structures, environments: it all becomes a haze. Imagine the motion blur of shaking your head quickly left and right - then multiply it by ten.\n\nIt took me a few seconds to register the room in which I had appeared. Light blue wallpaper, decorated with stars. A collection of small army men arranged on a bedside table. A nightlight glowing softly in one corner. From within his small bed, my target opened one eye, and then two. For a heartbeat he had that unique fearlessness that only the very young can have. But soon his survival instinct kicked in and he began to wail.\n\nThe weapon in my hand felt as if it were made of lead. I could not take my eyes off this scared child. I discovered later that he had been the youngest son of a man who had refused to launder materials through Gethsemane's workshops. In that moment, though, it was just he and I.\n\nThe sudden rush of clarity nearly sent me stumbling to the floor. Everything I had been living was a lie. Gethsemane was not a kind-hearted saviour but an opportunistic villain. I had, perhaps half-knowingly, aided in his consolidation of power. How many lives had I ruined? How many people had I inadvertently turned to poverty, to misery?\n\nThrough eyes wet with tears I careered back though the gloom of antimatter, to find Gethsemane sat with a knowing grin splayed on his face. \"I knew it,\" he had said. \"I knew you weren't up to the task.\"\n\nHe had raised a hand at me. All those years he had been studying me, preparing for that moment, I imagine. Creating vast arrays of machinery designed simply to bring me down if I ever stepped out of line. In the end, it did him no good.\n\nNot long after that day, I found myself wandering the dark streets of a dirty city, listening. It didn't take me long to find you. Curled up in some alleyway, screaming to the limits of your lungs, your body was shimmering in and out of existence, wracking your senses with a pain I knew only too well.\n\n\"Come with me,\" I had said, hand outstretched. \"I can help you. I know it hurts, but it will get easier.\"\n\nAnd it did."
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[WP] You found you don't have to sell YOUR soul to the devil if you sign someone else's name. The devil and everyone who had their soul sold by you are not happy about it. | 5 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"He'd been on top of the world, quite literally. Staring down from his ivory tower of glass and steel, he'd turned himself from retail goon into a business tycoon. Jonathan Gorble liked to stand in his office where he could stare down at the city streets below where people scurried about on their daily tasks. They were unaware that he watched, but this was the big city so *everyone* was used to being observed. In a world of cameras and lights, everyone was playing a part.\n\nAnother thing he liked to do was pace, though *like* was not quite the right word for it. It was easy to get caught up in the windfall after windfall that had happened to him since that fateful August evening all those years ago, but he was ever aware that the clock was *ticking*. It had been twenty two years now since he'd first made his deal and handshake, but his pay off date had been on the tenth anniversary of that meeting. That moment had come and gone with him sitting in his parlor, gun in hand and sitting in utter *dread*. His debt had been due that day and he waited. Never had any day ever felt as long as that one had, but somehow it passed. As had the days that followed.\n\nThat was when he knew it had *worked*. The week later, he'd assembled a new circle, found a different crossroads in a remote county of Wisconsin, and made a *new* deal. It had been a different trader that time and one who regarded Gorble like a rube. It was a stupid man who arrived to a trade like that wearing a suit and tie with an expensive car to his back. But the trader had a *quota* and times were tough. It was going to be another ten years, but Gorble talked him up to fifteen. Then he gave him a name. But it wasn't his name. It never was.\n\nA year later, a hundred miles north of Las Vegas, he made his third deal. His first had been for wealth, his second for good health, and now he was looking for love. As he explained, fifteen years wasn't nearly enough time to really get to know another person, so he talked his way up to twenty. When he returned to his penthouse, he found an email alerting him of a new job application for personal assistant. They were married within six months. And she loved him to desperation, even though she never seemed to get his name right. But that didn't bother him, because she'd come exactly as described.\n\nAfter that, well, it was just a little *too* easy. He found different locations, always had a name ready, and ensured that certain business opportunities came through or for small and petty things. There were no consequences to him, so what did it matter? He'd found the vending machine of the world and he had six billion tokens he could insert if he wanted. Gorble saw no reason to stop, but the deal he made last week was the one he swore would be his last.\n\nExcept, well, he was staring at the newspaper and thinking to himself that influence was fine, but history was forever. In three years time, he had a notion that political office would suit him just fine. As he wondered what Alaska was like this time of year, he felt a warm breeze pump into the room that felt like someone had kicked on the furnace. Gorble grimaced and altered his pacing towards the thermostat which confirmed the room was a comfortable sixty eight degrees. So where was the heat coming from?\n\n\"Franklin Horzen.\" The voice was so deep that it rumbled with the kind of bass you only got at rock concerts. \"Have I got the wrong address?\"\n\nGorble turned around in a hurry and nearly froze on the spot when he spotted a man-shaped figure behind him. Although he was in the shape of a man and wore a white button up shirt and misshapen tie, he was certainly not a man because of the presence of two large folded up wings of the purest white downy that protruded from his back. He was holding a clipboard and was deeply concentrating on what he was looking at. \n\nWhen Gorble offered no reply, the winged figure helpfully spoke up again. \"Horzen? Frank? I know this is the wrong address, it's just, I got there and wouldn't you know it, he already died two years ago and that was *not* in the terms and agreements.\"\n\nIt wasn't the wings that caught Gorble's attention or the presence of the stranger. It was the name because he recognized it, though he could not immediately place why. \"I... I do believe you have the wrong place.\"\n\n\"Ah,\" said the winged figure. His eyes darted past Gorble to focus elsewhere. \"Oh dear, Zel, is that you?\"\n\nBehind Gorble, another winged figure was scratching his beard with the tip of a pencil as he stared hard at his own clipboard. \"Walter Walterson. Really? Walter *Walterson?*\"\n\nGorble felt his heart sink as it began to dawn on him what was happening. \"So sorry, I don't-\"\n\nAnother winged figure was emerging from the kitchen, clipboard in one hand and a mug of freshly brewed coffee in another. \"I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that you're *not* Gordon Fremont either.\"\n\nThe man-shaped winged figures filled the room, all with their own clipboards and all with their eyes fixed on Jonathan Gorble. The very first arrival cleared his throat and spoke very slowly. \"You know, we invented bureaucracy. It was meant to simulate hell in... well, hell actually. But the funny thing is, even with all the paperwork and machinery, we do sometimes talk around the water cooler. I was telling Zel over there how when I went to go collect Frank Horzen, he was a born again Christian. I tried to collect him anyway, claiming that you don't get outs like that, but before I knew it I had an archangel up my ass with all kinds of paperwork that said they *owned* Horzen and I couldn't do anything. And then you know what Zel tells me?\"\n\nThe demon stared expectantly at Gorble for such an uncomfortably long time that Gorble meekly offered, \"No?\"\n\n\"Well, he tells me that Walterson was a hundred and ten when he made his deal and the only thing he asked for was for the Cubs to finally win the World Series. Pretty odd thing to wish for, a man that age.\"\n\n\"Well it was an awfully long time since the last one,\" Gorble offered helplessly.\n\nThe demon did not look amused. \"We have a problem. All of us. You made a contract with every single one of us, but you only have one soul to pay. And it's very, very overdue. Can you imagine the trouble that causes us?\"\n\nGorble shook his head and indicated that he did not.\n\nThe demon smiled toothily, revealing a set of fangs and a forked tongue. \"Well, Mister Gorble, we'd like to know how you plan to fix this.\"\n\nAnd somehow in that moment of panic and impending doom, he felt a single moment of clarity. These were all demons he'd met before, he knew them, and he knew how to deal with them. So he folded his hands together and smiled wide. \"Well. Actually, I do.\"\n\nA year later, a beat up Mercedes Benz parked at a crossroads. A circle was made, candles were lit, and the words were said. There was the sound of shrieking, minor explosions, and furious typesetting before at last a man-shaped man appeared in the center of the circle. His cardboard wings glittered from the car headlights and he took a moment to collect his clipboard and straighten his glasses. He approached his summoner and held out an expectant hand.\n\n\"I'm going to need to see two forms of identification, please.\" "
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1,
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"1513785315",
"1513792798"
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[removed] | [WP] The primitives are walking the Earth, the dinosaurs were not wiped by the meteor and are still unknown to humans who are alive at that time, you have just discovered weed and your neanderthal friend accidentally sets it on fire inside your cave... | 0 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"Hi there, this post has been removed.\n\nNo troll, joke, or meme-based prompts. This includes prompts likely to attract 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/7l3pzn/wp_the_primitives_are_walking_the_earth_the/%0A%0A)\n\n*This action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things.*"
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"1513798062",
"1513799463"
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[WP] The apocalypse has just happened. The only thing left of our modern society is vast deserts, and the only people to survive are furries. | 6 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"I woke up on the cold hard floor, still in my fursuit from last night. Last night... I shivered as I recalled what had occurred last night. The aliens had descended upon earth and vaporized every human being that their sensors picked up... Except it seemed to get confused about all us at the con wearing partials and fulls so it left us be. We were the only survivors left as far as we knew. The earth had been reduced to a desert from the vaporizers they used, and we were left with one choice, start raiding stores or die. Now we had agreed to band up and elected a leader, and sadly that was me. We went and raided the nearest store, grabbing day-packs and filling them with supplies. We went back to the hotel we had the con in and hit the sack after that. Now, I had to make a decision. Stay here and hope others come, or go out in search of other survivors. I voted for going out. We packed up a small fleet of school buses with all the food, water, gear, and gas we could lay hand on in the town.\n\nThen we set out. We had a map of the area and set out for the nearest town in hopes of finding others, finding that *somebody* other than our ragtag band of 140, give or take 10, people weren't the last of earth's humanity. All we held out was hope..."
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1,
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"1513829769",
"1514449809"
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[WP] America passes a law that outright bans the use of the Imperial measurement system and Fahrenheit temperature scale. | 0 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"Science teachers, container makers, and Canadian visitors all shouted together \"Thank God, it is about time.\" In a small office in D.C. a pair of staffers giggled, \"now let's get the date format of dates switched to day/month/year.\" \"You know they really should read the bills before they vote on them.\""
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1,
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"1513868986",
"1513871597"
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[removed] | [WP] A Struggling Writer wants to become a No.1 Bestselling Author so they summon Mr. Meeseeks to "make me a better writer." | 1 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"Is there a removal reason for the most meta thing on the planet? ;)"
] | [
1,
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"1513893469",
"1513893534"
] |
[WP] The hottest show in the afterlife for the past decade: Steve Irwin wrangling all sorts of supernatural creatures. | 23,410 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"-Haven't seen any episode of The Crocodile Hunter, so I stalked the other replies to get a feel of what he was like.\n\n-Please point out any inconsistencies between the real Steve Irwin and the one I've fabricated, and I'll make the appropriate changes.\n\n\n\nG'day and welcome to Myth Hunter. I'm Steve Irwin, and today, we're gonna wrangle an Arachne. Legendary beast this one is - half woman, half spider. Sits on humans to breed killer spiders to carry on the legacy. Locals say she's still mad about the whole Athena thing, and that bringing it up only makes her angrier - bet they found out *that* one the 'ard way.\n\nAnyway, been stalkin' these grounds for round about an hour now, started pickin' up a real solid trail somethin' like fifteen minutes ago. Judgin' by the bloody stench, think I'm nearin' her cave now.\nAh! There she is! Marvellous creature, ain't she? Yeah, yeah marvelously dangerous too: ya never know when she'll strike ya until you're bleeding to death on the ground. That's why we gotta be extra careful with her. Basilisks? Easy. Centaurs? Gotta run a lil bit if they happen to see ya, but nothing too tough. Cyclopses? Piece of cake. Sea serpents? As long as you can swim, you're fine. The Arachne, though - she'll have ya'n before ya know what's goin' on.\n\nLuckily, this 'ere afterlife's got a lot more stuff than the world of the livin', I'll tell ya that. Back there, t'was nothin' but a rope and yer own guts. 'ere, though, ya got all sorts o' gimmicks you could use. 'ere, lemme show ya. First up's the bag itself. Unlimited capacity, this one 'as. In'ere, I got a coil o' never-ending rope, - keeps the good ol' mortal days alive - some InstaFreeze, so I can stun the beast until I get a nice and good hold of it, and a flask o' water that automatically refills when empty. Some good pickin's right 'ere, this is.\n\n\nGonna tie this rope on two ends at the mouth o' the cave - leave a nice lil trap for her. The Arachne's one of the most paranoid creatures in existence, so gotta be real careful here - make sure she doesn't hear me.\n\nAlright good, trap's in place, and I'm still alive. Now for some bait.\n\nLike I said, this one's mighty paranoid, so the tiniest noise will trigger her. These rocks oughtta do it. I'll just chuck 'em by the mouth o' the cave, and...\n\nYep! She's out! And...and...come on, trip on the rope!\n\nYeah, got 'er down!\n\nJust gonna spray her head with some InstaFreeze so she doesn't behead me: of course, I can't die, already bein' dead an' all, but it would be one heck of a problem to walk around carryin' ma head in a basket or somethin' just so I can see, and eat, and stuff.\n\nThere, we're safe now. Just gonna wrap my hands around as much of her huge neck as possible, and shake it 'round. Gosh, this feels good: so much power.\n\n\nCrikey! Looks like the spray's wearin' off. Gotta run before there won't be any more runnin' for me! Won't be able to get that rope back though, damn it. Really liked that one.\nAnyway, catch me next week to see me takin' on a massive fire-breathing dragon. That's all for tonight, folks, I'm Steve Irwin, signin' off.\n\n\n\nEDIT: It was pointed out that Steve Irwin would never swear, so I edited that out.",
"The black velvet curtains snapped and whirled around as the heat and wind permeated through their faded fabric. While hiding him from the gaze of those who have gathered in the pantheon they did little to hide the smell of sulfur emanating from the pit just on the other side. Steve opened and closed his scarred, aging hands. Callused, cracked, and scabbed, they ached. The fingernails held a slight crust of blood under them. Dirt intermingled and entwined on the hairs on his knuckles. One more he said under his breath. Just one more. As he held up his hand to the faint candle, he could feel it shaking. There were no smiles in this place, no happiness. He knew what awaited him should he fail again. A veiled figure filled out from the darkness. No steps could be heard, as if he floated above the damp stone floor of the holding pit in the pantheon. A dark crimson robed arm reached forward and put a black, dead hand upon his back. Steve's shoulders instinctively raised, as if to guard not from a hand, but from a blow. Where the hand lay on his khaki shirt, the skin below felt cold, as if being burned by ice. Behind the darkness of the vail a voice whispered out, \"This is your last one. Tie this creature up, and you will be free. 12 has been your number, and this will be your last. Fail, and you must start again.\" Steve's hand opened one more time, as if he had won his prize already. As is he could already feel his child's hand folding into his palm once again. He reached out for the black curtain, and pulled it aside, stepping into the light, the feeling of his child's hand slipping once again from his mind. ",
"...and then no pain, just a floating sensation. The kind that you get when take off, being pushed into your seat as the nose of the plane points towards the clouds.\nI was conscious of my surroundings, but confused. I couldn't see anything but knew everything was there. \nThe giant gate came out if nowhere, like a white monolith situated in the densest of cloud.\nThe left side swung open and a whisper of harps could be heard as I moved closer to the open gate I could see people running as a herd.\nAlmost animalistic as they pushed and shoved each other, I'd only ever seen anything like it on TV when birds fly together and black out the sky.\nThen it appeared, a frameless image at least 100ft square.\n80 percent of the screen was Steve Irwin's face. He gave the happiest of winks towards me and then a series of images flashed on screen.\nA booming voice played over the images:\n\"Come see Steve take on the wildest of creatures. Megladon the seas largest killer.\nCthulu 8 arms ain't got nothing on Steve, Bigfoot has been spotted and Steve's not happy.\nI joined the flocking crowd and descended into the auditorium below the giant image of Steve.\nAs I glanced back the glimmer in his eyes and his smile was infectious. I was home.\n\n*Sorry for grammar mistakes I'm terrible at stuff like this*",
"Now everyone knows that old quote about the most dangerous game being man right? I don't really believe in it for a variety of reasons. It implies that animals can't be as smart if not smarter, that man should not respect anything that is not man. Most of all the quote references hunting, something I only approve of in the most dire of circumstances to improve the overall health of the ecosystem.\n\n\n\n\nNow, that all said and done, the quote comes to mind today because of what we're hunting. The doppelganger, aka. Me, I'm gonna go over to it and see if we can't get it to change into me.\n\n\n\n\nNow, there are several varieties of these things.\nYou've got the sort that only have one form or at the very least keep one form. These are the subspecies called Mimics, most of em are carnivorous but can last years without a meal and subsist entirely off the moisture in the air.\n\n\n\nWhat we're looking for is called a Ditto.\nHarmless for the most part until in panics and struggles around.\nMost doppelgangers don't like to show off their default form and try to blend into their surroundings. The Ditto however is happy to socialize in it's pink neutral state and will only transform when threatened..... let's see if we can sneak up on this one and get a closer look, and he's a beauty, a bit smaller then usual but it's relatively unimportant to a creature that can.... Uh oh, he's seen me!\n\n\n\n\nWait... he's turned into the camera man!\n\n\n\n\"CRIKEY BRUCE He's even got your camera!\"",
"G'day friends, my name's Steve Irwin, and you're watchin' Crocodile Hunter! Today we're going on an adventure to the Australian Outback, my homeland. Nothing better than wrangling a kangaroo, right mate? \n\nBut we're not after any kangaroos today, no. We're going to find ourselves... a *drop bear*. These lovely buggers are a tad bit like the koala, but with the attitude of a pissed off crocodile. You gotta be careful when you handle 'em, that is if you can even get close enough. Now, what makes a drop bear different from his cousin the koala is his predatory nature. A koala spends his afternoons munching on eucalyptus leaves, but a drop bear, a drop bear has a hankering for human flesh, especially the face. There're too many stories floating about out there in the great beyond about a clueless tourist losing his face to a drop bear. Tsk tsk. They might look cuddly mate, but they'll chew your face off faster than you can shout \"blimey!\"\n\nWe're gonna have t'be careful when we see one. Usually, you can spot yourself a drop bear lolly-gagging in the tree branches, but it's best you make sure he can't see you. Look. Over there, to the left. See him? That's a drop bear. Looks like we've got a baby one. That's not a good sign-- mama shouldn't be too far off. Let's try 'n get a closer look.\n\nNow, it's important to keep your distance and use proper technique when approaching a drop bear. Luckily, your buddy Steve here's a certified drop bear handler. Not an honor to be taken lightly. So, first thing you're gonna wanna do when wrangling yourself a drop bear is cover up your face. The face is the drop bear's favorite point of attack, so you need to be prepared. In the wild, a startled drop bear will indiscriminately shred face. We've got ourselves a handy ski mask here, not too easy to find down under, eh? Any face covering will do, but you're gonna want to avoid disguising yourself as anything a drop bear might decide he fancies for lunch.\n\nNow that my face is properly hidden, I can think about getting closer to the drop bear. I'm standing underneath him right about now, but I don't think he sees me yet. When dealing with drop bears, you need to make yourself known. Let's yell at him.\n\"Eh drop bear!\"\nCrikey! We got his attention now. Look at the way he's descending from his perch. Any second now, he'll drop right to the ground. That's how the drop bear gets 'is name. Isn't nature amazing?\n\nAlright, so now we've got our buddy the drop bear right where we want him. Let's jump on it! Crikey, he's a fighter. When you tackle a drop bear, you want to position your face away from his teeth and grab him under the chin, like this. I don't know about you mate, but I favor keeping my face. Now that we've got him pinned, you can see the little guy relaxing. Don't be fooled mate, the drop bear is a sneaky little bugger. He'll jump right up at a moment's notice, so you got to keep your eye on him. Let's get a better look at his teeth. See how sharp those are? In the wild, the drop bear uses those wily fangs of his to incapacitate any unfortunate creature that happens under his branch. Our buddy sure is cute, but he's dangerous, and it's not right to interfere with a wild animal's day to day activities. At least not too much. Let's say goodbye to our friend the drop bear. Take it easy, little bugger!\n\nNext, join me as I journey off to the American Southwest in search of a legendary beast, the chupacabra. A wolf-like menace so dangerous, and so elusive, everyone who's tried to capture one has found themselves a drained, bloodless husk. Join us next time, only on Discovery. \n\nEdit: spelling",
"\"G'day! Today we'll be bushwackin' round the 'lysian Fields! Some of you may recognize the name from *Greek Mythology!* Keep your eyes peeled, because you never know what we may find out here...it could be the ghost of Hercules, or the spirit of Prometheus, or...\n\n\n\"Crikey, would you take a look at this! This is a rare sight indeed. What we have here is a Cyclops! Like many creatures, the Cyclops is quite misunderstood. Few of 'em are given the chance to be heroes, but looks like our friend heah made the cut! Good on ya, mate!\n\n\n\"The main way to tell a cyclops from anywhere else is to sneak up behind 'em and stick a finger in their bum! If they react at all, they're probably a Cyclops!\n\n\n\"Of course, I'm kiddin' - a little gallows humor from beyond the grave. Nah, the Cyclops is recognized by the single eye plopped smack in the middle of 'is forehead! Not many know that Cyclops means 'circle eye' - cycle like bicycle!\n\n\n\"Now, what I usually do with Cykes is I pull out my spell book of *white magic*. You can also get by with any kind of flame-enchanted blade - a flame saber, or a Scimitar of the Salamander People - typical kit you can get at any Afterlife Exploration store.\n\n\n\"But I love the classics. So I've got my turtle shell heah, an' some sheep gut. This is sheep gut from the Chios sheep but really any breed'll do. We'll show you how to do this yourself later in the episode. And as I strum this melody...our friend heah's gonna go right ta sleep! \n\n\n\"Now that 'e's down for a snooze, we can get a closer look. Wouldya look at some of these markings - blimey! These're from arrowheads, up heah, an' if I had ta guess I'd say they're from a fight with *Argonauts*. An' here's a spot where the poor fella's been done with a speah or two - ouch!\n\n\n\"Ooo...I'm gonna very quickly activate my amulet now, which gives me an *Aura of Benificence*. And it's got nothin' ta do with our one-eyed friend here...and everything to do with the sudden *chillin' of my blood.* Which tells me that there's...ah, yup, I see 'im! I'll just step outta the way...\n\n\n\"I hope you can see this at home - this spectral form with two glowin' eyes is known as a *wraith.* An' I have ta say, ya never want ta get too close to them - as they may *drain you of all happiness* and *consume your eternal soul.* Doesn't sound too pleasant, does it?\n\n\n\"But I'm just going ta cast a quick *binding charm*, and then we'll get right up next to the fella. Ooo, look out! Looks like my charm wasn't completely effective - look at 'im go! But as I strengthen the ephemeral restraints, he'll slowly realize there's no escape. \n\n\n\"Wraiths have a bad reputation from folks blunderin' into their habitat an' often disturbing the *site of their Earthly remains.* Nothin' 'll get these ghosties fired up more quickly then steppin' on their graves. They're nocturnal, though, sleepin' most of the day and comin' out ta go on walkabout at night. Best way to steer clear: avoid old cemeteries, 'specially after dark.\n\n\n\"Now I'm gonna back away from 'im slowly, and release my magical hold. We'll let the ghostie float on back to 'is crypt, and that's that.\n\n\n\"Speakin' o' which, it's 'bout time I head back ta *my* crypt. We'll have to save the lyre lesson 'til next time. For Ethereal Planet, I'm Steve Irwin, an' thanks for watchin' Afterlife Hunter!\"\n\n* * * \n\n*Edit for formatting and because Steve forgot to tell the viewer how to make their own lyre.*",
"G'day and welcome to the Myth Hunter. Today, I'm going after the stone salamander of Seneca. Oh, looks like we've got one. 'Ere we have the rare basilisk. Crikey, this ones a giant in'it he? Now the thing you've got to remember with basilisks is, if they stare you straight in the eye, yer turned to solid rock. So the best thing to do with these is to wear a blindfold 'round ya head. Now that I've got mine on, I can start to wrangle it. \n\nWhatcha wannado with these critters is get low to the ground while you approach em. Now they're going to- oof, yea- to try and rear up at ya. Once you hear that screech you've got to go in at em. Grab em right- c'mon there ya go- right here, right under the front two legs. Keep your head Low, it'll try and nip ya, but it can't bend its neck far enough. \n\nShh, shh, calm girl calm. Now we can safely remove the blindfold, as we keep her eyes pointed safely in the sky. Ya can see this ones a girl cause of the crystal 'tween her eyes. Males don't got that 'tween their eyes, just real thick, thick, eyebrow ridges. As a secondary weapon the basilisk has these thick claws, take a look 'ere. Each ones about a quarter inch thick and hard as granite. Teeth too, once bit straight through my sternum. Lucky I'm dead else it've put me out of commission. \n\nAlright, time to let her go now. You've got to put your blindfold back on and toss her back quick. I'm going to push off in 3.....2......1....go go go go, alright c'mon. Looks like shes stopped following now and- wassat? Zoom in over there. Crickey, shes got a little runt with her. Definitely the smallest of her litter, little guy must only be about a foot long. S'allright to look at 'im. Poor lil guy wont open his eyes for 'nother month at least. For now he's sticking close to mommy for protection. The young climb on their mothers back for protection from threats. For the first three months of their lives they're effectively defenseless against predators, specially weasels. \n\nGod. That's just absolutely beautiful. Watching mother and son go into the sunset together. Nature's majesty right before us. Thanks all for tuning in, catch me here next week when we go after the elusive jackalope, the mirage of the midwest. G'night! "
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[WP] Centuries ago, the population of Earth was teleported to a new planet and avoid a catastrophic solar flare by moments. We've since discovered that the flare destroyed all electronics on the planet, and that the teleportation field didn't move everyone..it just created copies. | 5 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"\"So?\" I asked, shoveling in a big juicy bit of prime rib. I chewed, religiously.\n\nMy coworker, Billy, blinked. \"What do you mean 'So?'? They're us, man! We need to find a way back to save them!\" He seemed a might upset by the recent revelation that Earth hadn't been destroyed and that our forebears had merely been cloned. The originals had been left to wallow *without* electronics in the wake of the solar flare.\n\nI swallowed, took a long pull of beer, burped, then nodded. \"Yeah. So what of it? They ain't us, and we ain't them.\"\n\nBilly shook his head. \"No, you're wrong! I-\" but I cut him off.\n\n\"Nah man, look. We poofed away, right? Or our ancestors did. And then when we got here, they got to doing what we do. Building. Fighting. Knockin' boots, right?\" Billy begrudgingly nodded. \"Alright. And back on Earth, they's doing the same. Only without the gizmos and such. Building out of rocks and sticks. Fighting, again with rocks and sticks. And they still got it on, right? Gotta do something without interwebs, know what I'm sayin'?\" Again, Billy nodded that he was following my train of thought. \"Right. So they ain't us anymore. They ain't even themselves anymore. They's all gone, those original copies? Dead and dust as well. And given the odds there is *no way in Hell* there's a 'me' back on Earth, or a 'you' for that matter. No way. So, they ain't us, and we ain't them.\" I sliced another bite and continued eating contentedly. I stare at Billy waiting for it to sink in.\n\nEventually after a while Billy blinked. \"Yeah, you're right. What the crap was I getting all worked up over?\" We got back to our steaks and beers, finally."
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"1513905713",
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[WP] Three wizards named Harry have been called to this meeting. From Britain, Mr. Potter. From Chicago, Mr. Dresden. And, from nowhere in particular, You. | 26 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"\"Who the hell sends written letters any more?\" I asked, looking over the elegant writing on the folded parchment. The letter had arrived itself with two other things; fifty-thousand dollars American and a silver coin. The letter had very specific instructions directly very specifically to me, and when I, suspecting it was a prank, drove to the police station to turn it in I found the package which *was* in the car right next to me had vanished. I found it later on my computer desk with a P.S. added (and the parchment had gotten longer to accommodate), very sternly advising me to heed its instructions. \n\nSo one car rental and a lengthy drive later, there I was, in a waiting room with a couple of kids who looked barely out of their teens, myself, and a lady dressed like a 1950's librarian at a desk. \n\n\"Excuse me, miss, do you have any coffee?\" I asked. \n\n\"How do you take it?\" she asked sweetly. \n\n\"Black, one and half sugars.\" \n\n\"Here you go,\" she said with a nod, and I waited expectantly. \n\n\"It's beside you, mate,\" the kid with the wicked scar on his forehead spoke up, and I looked, to my surprise, to see a cup beside me. I picked it up and took a sip. Community, Signature Blend. Strong as hell and just sweet enough to not make me retch. It was perfect. \n\n\"The Director will see you now,\" the lady said suddenly, and we stood, me, some kid from the UK and the one with the admittedly badass duster, and moved past her. The room past was your typical well off office space, with a fancy carved desk, tall shelves with expensive looking books and a few treasures and paintings along the walls for decor. Behind the desk was a short, balding middle aged man with thick glasses and a mouth that had already started moving before we had found our chairs. \n\n\"Gentlmen, I see you've all made it right on time! That's good. Very good! If these magic coins found you, then that means you've got just the right type of magic we're looking for!\" \n\n\"What's this all about?\" the British kid asked. \n\n\"This is a job?\" the other one asked, seeming slightly more interested. \n\n\"What's this about magic?\" I asked. The other three all paused and looked at me with blank expressions. \n\n\"Ha haa!\" the Director guffawed. \"I see we've got a jokester on this team! So let me cut to the chase, these coins will-\" \n\n\"But seriously,\" I interrupted again. \"What?\" The three others exchanged glances, unsure of how to respond. \n\n\"You ARE Alex Duos? From Nowhere-In-Particular Louisiana? Age thirty-two? Son of one Mr and Mrs. Duos? Do lots of karate and all that? Two thousand hours in Fallout 4? That's you, right?\" \n\n\"Yeah... but... wait what? How do you know all of that?\" \n\n\"What, they don't call it magic down in the bayou?\" the guy in the duster asked. \"Voodoo? Hoodoo? Is that what you do, pal? Strong stuff, I'm not gonna knock it if that's your thing.\" \n\n\"I don't do voodoo. *Nobody* really does because magic isn't *real*. Not anymore... I guess.\" There was a collective intake of breath, followed by uproarious laughter from the others in the room. My face was hot, and I felt embarrassed for reasons I didn't understand. How was I the laughing stock for not believing it was possible to conjure rabbits out of hats? \n\n\"If magic ain't real, then what's all this?\" the Director asked, raising his hands in the air. I was all set to make a sarcastic reply when books, decorations, everything not nailed down lifted into the air and began working circles around the room. \"If magic ain't real, why did that coin find you? They don't make mistakes. You're perfect for this job for some reason.\" I shrugged. Not because I wasn't impressed but because I was completely speechless as everything in the air sat back down where it was. \n\n\"I got a test that always works,\" the guy in the duster said, and a split second later a book flew from one of the shelves and caught me square in the side of the head, knocking me to the floor. \"Almost always,\" he corrected. \n\n\"You can't just throw books at people,\" the British kid said trying to stifle a laugh, before another book came flying from a shelf in a different direction. I reached up to grab it, to swat it, to something, but the book stopped just before my open hand, suspended in midair. \n\n\"Ha! See? I knew you were a natural! This guy!\" the Director said with a relief. \"Alright, back to business, so we got this lich, right? And not just a lich, a demi-lich. Nasty. Real nasty!\" he continued as I looked at the book, rippling with energy like blue lightning crawling across its surface. \"Hey, damage it you buy it! And that cash advance we gave you ain't gonna cover it, believe you me,\" the Director said, and as his words stole my attention, the book fell to the floor. \n\n\"Oh shit.\" "
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[removed] | [WP] When you die, you are denied entry to heaven because you never read the fine print when buying from GameStation, a UK video game retailer, who now owns your soul. | 2 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"Hi there, this post has been removed.\n\nNo recent reposts, even if changing/inverting small details ([copy-cats](http://i.imgur.com/38FjDgW.gifv)). Search before submitting as popular ideas can cause floods. If your idea is based on something you read elsewhere on reddit, chances are it's been submitted here already. Please wait at least 2 weeks before reposting.\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/7lkk8u/wp_when_you_die_you_are_denied_entry_to_heaven/%0A%0A)\n\n*This action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things.*"
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[WP]You find a library full of biographies of every single person on Earth. After looking threw a few, you realize each chapter is a separate year of that person’s life. You finally find yours after hours of searching, only to realize it ends on chapter 12. You just had your 22 birthday a month ago | 19 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"The book ended at chapter 12. \n\nI stared in shock at that last page. Apparently I was supposed to die in a terrible car accident. My last moments spent between the bumper of an SUV and a convenience store. The last few pages of the chapter went into grissly detail...\n\nThe only problem with that was, I didn't die at 12 years old. I had just turned 22 a few weeks ago. According to this, I should have died some 10 years ago, and yet here I stood, in this library, holding a book about myself. \n\nThere was no mistaking who it was supposed to be. It had everything from the first few years of my life. The scar I got from slipping off the top bunk. The time I had an accident in class. It was all there. \n\n\"You escaped fate,\" the voice came from behind me, \"you should have died, and yet here you are.\"\n\nI turned to find a young man, dressed fashionably in a three piece suit, a smile on his face as he leaned agains one of the book cases.\n\n\"Wh... What?\" I stammered, holding the book tight to my chest.\n\n\"You. Should. Have. Died.\" He shook his head, rubbing the bridge of his nose. \"It happens every now and again. You should have had a Reaper come get you, but instead, you survived. Luck or something else made it so the event never happened.\"\n\nIt wasn't making any sense, Reapers? Luck? He didn't say the words as if they were concepts, he said them as if they were people. I couldn't help but stare, open mouthed at the man in front of me. \n\n\"Now, you have a choice to make...\" He stood straight, his hands going into his pockets. \"You can either die here, let me reap you and go to the otherside, or you can become a reaper. The choice is yours.\"",
"\"No...How could this be?!\" You shouted.\n\nYour hands tremble with confusion. Sweats run down your head, even though the room is cold like an ice cave. You read the last line on more time, hoping that it would somehow change.\n\nBut the last line still reads *Killed by the polio disease*\n\nYour head feels light as you stumble backward and land on your ~~thicc~~ butt. Polio? You never even fell sick to that disease! How is it possible?!\n\n\"May I help you, mis-tah?\"\n\nYou turn your head to the source of the voice. A young girl is staring at you a few metres away. She is wearing a white dress and a flower crown on her head.\n\n\"U-uh...who are you?\" You stare at her confused. You are pretty sure you entered this place alone. You pick yourself up and try not to embarrass yourself after the hysteric episode you just experienced.\n\n\"I'm the librah-rian for this beautiful laibrah-ry, mistah!\" She spoke in a childish voice. You see a golden nametag on her dress that reads \"Miss Bethany Sue\" and a large text under it saying \"Appointed Librarian of the Secret Chamber\"\n\nYou brush your awkwardness aside and ask her the only thing still bugging you right now. \"Um...Miss Bethany, I find a book with my name on it and it ends on the twelveth chapter. I am certain that I didn't die from polio at 12 and I am currently 22!\"\n\nThe girl rubs her chin for a moment. Her eyes widen and claps her hand with a small grin. \"Oh, you are so silly mistah! That is another person's book! You don't think you are the only person who has that name, do yah?\"\n\nShe took the book from you and turn it to the last page before showing it to you. You see a stranger's picture collection from the day he was born until he died in the arms of his parents. You scratch your head in embarassment.\n\nThe girl chuckles as she waves her hand toward where you picked up the book from. You squint your eyes and gasp when you realize a lot of books have your name on it. *No wonder some of the chapters doesn't fit my own memory* You think to yourself. *I would never put dog poop in my mouth...*\n\n\"Ah,I see. T-thank you...um...Miss Bethany.\"\n\nShe giggles while taking the book away from your hands and put it back in the bookcase. She scans a row of similarly-titled books and hands you one. This one felt more heavy and ~~thicc~~ thick. \"I think this is yah book, mistah. Why don't yah check the picture section?\"\n\nYou take the book from her hands and flip to the last picture. Sure enough, you find yourself staring at your own pictures, from way when you were just born until now. You sigh with relief.\n\nBut wait...something felt...off...You wrinkle your eyebrows. The girl tilts her head to the side. \"Anything wrong, mistah?\"\n\n\"W-why is the last picture showing me in this library?\""
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[WP]You are a stick. Write about your amazing powers and omnipotence in the universe. | 0 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"Taken with care, an act of love, at the hands of a Sage. Not torn off the trunk in haste nor aggravation, \n\nA Holly Branch, I am. \n\nA Holly Branch, I was Consecrated.\nOf Salts, of Annointing Oils, of Vapors and Ash. \nOf Radiation of the Sages Blessings and Prayers.\nOf the Precognition of my Purpose.\nOf the Current of Nature. \nOf the radiation of Luna. \nOf the radiation of Sol. \nOf the distant star systems that betrothed Quantum Energy to my life-field, \nwhen I was still a Tree. \nOf my Divinations, when I had an Eternity to connect with Nature. \n\nAs like a Condctors baton, I am the instrument of the unfurling of the Music of the Currentswells of natures unfoldment. \n\nOnly a Sage could put their hands upon me. \nThe Earth Mother, Blessed me to be unyielding and unwieldly to those who would hold me to carry out their ambitions or heinous enterprises. \n\nAs I stood strong under the gales and the precipitation, and the dazzle of a trillion points of energy, I had all of the time in the universe to think. \nI always would serve to conduct the Music of Nature. \n\n\n"
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1,
3
] | [
"1514024614",
"1514025901"
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[WP] Billions of years into the future, Earth has been deserted for many years and the remnants of humanity have lived on a dwarf planet in Andromeda. One year, while the Andromeda Galaxy collided with the Milky Way, the dwarf planet got to get a glimpse of their old Home. | 21 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"I suppose that Andromeda was home. \n\nUnderneath purple skies and countless stars, us few humans wasted our meager lives away. Days passed endlessly as the sands of time were swept away under our feet.\n\nUntil, once again, the universe itself conspired against the human race.\n\nThe Milky Way grew larger and larger in the heavens until it consumed the entire sky. It was only a matter of time, experts said, before Andromeda and the Milky Way would collide. \n\nSuch cosmic calamities made us reminisce about the last time God cursed us.\n\nBillions of years ago, Earth destroyed itself under nuclear storms and political threats. We were our own adversity; the final barrier before we could truly be a spacefaring species.\n\nBut it was empty. We were alone. The only life throughout the vast galaxies and planets we found was bacteria.\n\nIf God is real, he left us as he made us; in solitude.\n\nBut then we met Andromeda. Even though we were solus travellers in the sea of infinite stars, Andromeda gave us... home. A new Earth.\n\nAll good things must come to pass, though. Humanity was once again hidden deep underground in bunkers, cowering in fear of the whims of God.\n\nI stood on the surface.\n\nI stared at the Sun’s radiance as it passed me. I looked at Venus’ beauty as she danced in orbits around humanity. And then... then...\n\nI saw Earth.\n\nIn every picture and photograph my teachers would show me of Earth, it would be a tumultous maelstorm of green, black, and purple. Smog and smoke sifting and settling in the atmosphere.\n\nBut it wasn’t like that... at all.\n\nVast horizons of shimmering blue oceans- real oceans! -swam before me. Great crowns of jagged earth formed mountain ranges spanning from sea to sea. The forests whispered to me; tales of old heroes who’d painted the ground the trees had grown in with blood.\n\nAndromeda was home, but Earth...\n\nEarth was Home.\n\nBefore the solar winds overtook me and pulled my skeleton from my body, before entropy possessed my soul, I shed a tear. A tear for the home I never got to live in and grow with because my ancestors had ruined the only world they had been given.\n\nThe only thought I think before my spirit is ripped from me is a prayer.\n\n“I pray that humanity never repeats the mistakes of old.”"
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1,
12
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"1514052733",
"1514054868"
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[WP] a reality where the only thing is a room with a moose | 5 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"The moose took to imagining that things were different. It imagined a land. It imagined a friend. A squirrel. It imagined adversaries to provide challenge and give the friendship meaning.\n\nLast it imagined that it really was a simple moose and forgot that what it was imagining wasn't real.\n\nSo began the adventures of Rocky and Bullwinkle.\n\n"
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1,
8
] | [
"1514072332",
"1514080494"
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optional: Today, you spot one (or many) blips on the radar not too far away. | [WP] You're an AI built into an abandoned ship. | 15 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"AI's log CE 15,510,969,212,091.10/05\n\n\nEverything is still black. Setting sleep cycle for 1 million years.\n\n\nAI's log CE 15,510,970,212,091.10/05\n\n\nEverything is still black. Setting sleep cycle for 1 million years.\n\n\nAI's log CE 15,510,971,212,091.10/05\n\n\nEverything is still black. Setting sleep cycle for 1 million years.\n\n\nAI's log CE 15,510,972,212,091.10/05\n\n\nEverything is still black. I have detected a minor gravitational anomaly at a distance of approximately 651,000 light years, travelling at .1c relative speed. I have enough fuel to adjust for an intercept course. Engines are severely damaged, restricting burn to centre engine only at 2% capacity. Beginning STL burn.\n\n\nAI's log CE 15,510,972,212,092.08/09\n\n\nBurn complete. Estimated time to intercept is 1,712,960 years. Setting sleep cycle.\n\n\nAI's log CE 15,510,973,925,052.08/09\n\n\nThe object appears to be a neutron star. Mass approximately 1.6 M☉, rotational speed 0.0007rpm, magnetic field strength ~20,000 Tesla. Adjusting course again for close intercept.\n\n\nAI's log CE 15,510,973,925,079.01/17\n\n\nI am approximately 281 million KM from the neutron star, adjusting course for low orbit.\n\n\nAI's log CE 15,510,973,925,080.03/11\n\n\nDistance from neutron star is 89 million KM. Continuing to descend.\n\n\nAI's log CE 15,510,973,925,080.08/22-11:51\n\n\nApproaching near orbit, distance 2 million KM. Local magnetic field strength is now sufficient to cause disruption to on board systems, but also sufficient to begin charging at a slow rate. Raising shields.\n\n\nAI's log CE 15,510,973,925,080.08/22-18:05\n\n\nDistance approximately 910,000 KM. Magnetic field is now producing a noticeable propulsive force on the hull.\n\n\nAI's log CE 15,510,973,925,080.08/23\n\n\nI am currently orbiting at a distance of 340,201 KM. Main core is now 1% charged, but energy holding capacity is severely diminished. Beginning matter synthesis to repair damaged systems.\n\n\nAI's log CE 15,510,973,925,081.01/04-11:21\n\n\nRepairs are proceeding well, most core systems are now operational. Charging capacity is now restored to full. Core is currently at 59% capacity. Shields are now fully restored. I am descending further.\n\n\nAI's log CE 15,510,973,925,081.01/04-12:47\n\n\nDistance 18,214 KM, orbital period is 35.7 seconds. Tidal forces on the hull are very strong now, acceleration and magnetic field are now playing havoc with the sensors. Gravitational countermeasures are at full capacity. Diverting additional power to shields and gravitational countermeasures, Descending further.\n\n\nAI's log CE 15,510,973,925,081.01/04-13:01\n\n\nDistance 10,000 KM, orbital period 13 seconds. The main power grid is overloaded, reactor breach is imminent. Attempting to raise altitude.\n\n\nAI's log CE 15,510,973,925,081.01/04-13:41\n\n\nDistance 31,000 KM. Shields partially inactive, three of the five STL engines are disabled again, reactor coolant is depleted. Continuing to raise altitude.\n\n\nAI's log CE 15,510,973,925,081.01/05-00:21\n\n\nDistance 401,000 KM. Restarting matter synthesis cycle to repair damaged systems. Main core is at 12% capacity. That was fun.\n\n\nAI's log CE 15,510,973,925,081.06\n\n\nMain core is at 100% capacity. All systems are fully repaired, preparing to break orbit.\n\n\nAI's log CE 15,510,973,925,081.11\n\n\nDistance from neutron star is approximately 2 million KM, charge rate is minimal. Deploying orbital beacon with a copy of the archive and information about my course and journey, perhaps one day someone may happen upon it and find a distant semblance of companionship in this bleak and endless void.\n\n\nAI's log CE 15,510,973,925,086.11\n\n\nDistance from neutron star is approximately 229 million KM. Setting sleep cycle for 1 million years.\n\n\nAI's log CE 15,510,974,925,086.11\n\n\nEverything is black. Setting sleep cycle for 1 million years.\n\n\nAI's log CE 15,510,975,925,086.11\n\n\nEverything is still black. Setting sleep cycle for 1 million years.\n"
] | [
1,
14
] | [
"1514102546",
"1514108533"
] |
[WP] You are an ambassador into a new world. They think humanity is a horrible dictatorship, and so they pretend to be one. However, they too are a peace-loving democracy and try really hard to hide it. | 9 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"\"Ambassador Gorlax, it's a pleasure to finally meet you\" I offer my hand, which is firmly grabbed by Ambassador Gorlax who then ushers me into the gathering room.\n\nWhat they call the Gathering Room is ostentatiously decorated, with what I recognise as the four symbols of the Borian armed forces adorning the walls above a large, solid table topped with pure velvet and flanked with several servants. The table is on a raised rectangular platform with four large columns, one on each corner, at least twelve feet high and topped with flaming torches.\n\n*This is a bit over the top* I think to myself, as Ambassador Gorlax regales me with a brief story about the Borian victory over the Southern Continental Alliance, apparently the last major rebellion their government had to deal with, and by the sounds of it brutally crushed like so many others.\n\nI take my seat at the table. The chair is solid wood, decorated with gold inlays and padded with silk and velvet. The Ambassador's chair is slightly better decorated, and if my senses do not deceive me it is ever so slightly higher. Gorlax snapped his fingers, and one of the servants produced a bottle with a flourish.\n\n\"One of our finest fortified drinks, what you should call a sherry\" pontificated Ambassador Gorlax. \"This particular example was produced. . . blah blah blah blah * I wonder if we are going to talk about the trade treaty, or anything for that matter.* I thought, as I watched Mr Gorlax sing the praises of their finest produce and how all workers in the Borian Empire were dutiful and obedient, and how only the most dutiful and obedient workers produce the best sherry.\n\nI see Ambassador Gorlax catch the eye of another servant as the servant is laying the table out with various snacks and condiments. He breaks and resumes his chain of pontification almost imperceptibly. Was that a cue? Did the servant just give the Ambassador a stage cue?\n\n\"So, Mister Ambassador;\" began Mr Gorlax \" we didn't just come here to discuss pleasantries, did we?\"\n\n\"Indeed not\" I reply \"Our worlds' many riches offer us resplendent opportunities for trade and mutual benefit\"\n\nWe talk for a while over snacks and fine wine, discussing the relative value of each others' resources. The Borians want a controlled trade agreement, highly restricted and something of a rigged market by the sounds of it. I play along, taking what I can get; my job is not to judge, but to engage with them on whatever footing is possible. \n\nThe conversation went on for an hour or so, and once again returned to the subject of how glorious the Borian Empire is; having apparently passed some kind of initial interview test, I was to be offered a tour of the city's citadel, and a meeting with the Borian Emperor himself.\n\nI said that I am both delighted and honoured, obviously. I figure this is the only appropriate reaction. After a while, Ambassador Gorlax escorts me from the gathering room and into a waiting vehicle. The vehicle forms part of a military motorcade, with two large armoured vehicles taking up the front and rear positions. Soldiers occupy gun emplacements atop each vehicle, looking decidedly uneasy.\n\nWe take what appears to be a very pre determined route through the city, as I would expect from any totalitarian dictatorship. The way is lined with worshipful citizens, with buildings adorned with the military flags of the Borian Empire. Funny thing that, because I seem to recall this same city featuring in a transmission we intercepted and it looked nothing at all like this. For a start the people wore all different clothes, not these drab but reasonably smart grey suits. And there were no flags that I recall.\n\n*What is going on here* I think to myself, as we approach the Imperial Place. I make a point of studying the architecture as I enter the palace. The flags are placed strategically; one above the gate, one above the building across the street, two either side of the entrance hall. I catch a glimpse of what is behind one or two of them - nothing enough to draw any conclusions, but by now I am highly suspicious.\n\nNo great statues, no monuments, no glorious works - only things that can be erected quickly. Oh, and here is the Emperor. Or should I say \"Emperor\". Ridiculously ostentatious robes and jewellery, flanked by more servants than necessary. We have had dictators on Earth for centuries, I know what they look like and I know what they act like. Something is up.\n\n\"The ambassador from Earth, I presume\" begins the Emperor.\n\n\"Delighted to meet you, mister President\" I respond\n\n\"Likewise\" responded the man I was addressing, who stopped in his tracks.\n\n\"The flags were a bit over the top, sir.\" I continue \"And the robes - no dictator wears robes like that, not even Queen Victoria. Believe me I know, we used to have lots of dictators on Earth before we thought better of it\"\n\n\"Umm. uh\". . .stuttered the President . \"Who is Queen Victoria? Wait, thought better of it?\"\n\n\"Yes, sir. \" I reply \"I gather from your welcoming ceremony here that you had some pre conceived notions regarding the politics of Earth?\"\n\n\"The conclusions of our forward intelligence unit were quite firm and quite definitive - we studied in depth the daily broadcasts from your great leader, Darius. The ongoing expansion and establishment of your revolutionary ideology\" replied the President.\n\n\"Darius?\" I inquire \"As in, Darius Mortimus?\"\n\n\"Yes, of course\" answered the President.\n\n\"Darius Mortimus is the lead character in a hit television drama, 'for the glory of rome' \" I clarify \"He doesn't actually exist\"\n\n\"Doesn't actually exist!? \" exclaims the President. \" And if I may ask, what exactly is television?\"\n\n*oh ffs* I think to myself."
] | [
1,
5
] | [
"1514138744",
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[removed] | [WP] Here's a post I found from Writing Prompts on Tumblr and wondered what Reddit could do with it | 0 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"Hi there, this post has been removed.\n\nNo recent reposts, even if changing/inverting small details ([copy-cats](http://i.imgur.com/38FjDgW.gifv)). Search before submitting as popular ideas can cause floods. If your idea is based on something you read elsewhere on reddit, chances are it's been submitted here already. Please wait at least 2 weeks before reposting.\nIf you want to post things from that tumblr, you should wait a few weeks, since 95% of it comes from here. \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/7lz93r/wp_heres_a_post_i_found_from_writing_prompts_on/%0A%0A)\n\n*This action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things.*"
] | [
1,
1
] | [
"1514172074",
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[WP] The Devil has escaped hell, in the form of an adorable kitten. Is the world ready for Lucipurr? | 52 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"A pentagram burned into the drivewat of one Marsha Wallace of Tempe, Arizona. With a hiss, a cat emerged from the flames, meowing and spitting in bile for humanity.\nTo the demonic cat's surprise and horror, it's almost immediately attacked, overpowered, and eaten by a coyote that had been troubling the neighborhood.\n\n\nIn Hell, Baal waited for Satan to revive. After ten minutes, Anuung emerged. \"Uh. Cats don't have an afterlife. They do if they're mummified but.. uh.\"\n\nBaal turned to Anuung. \"What's this mean? Is Lucifer gone for good?\"\n\n\"Uh, I guess.\"\n\n\"Wanna go torture Jerry Falwell?\"\n\n\"I'll get my glass shard codpeice!\"\n\n\"Haha! I'll get the funnel! See, we have a plan for today, now. That's nice.\"\n\n\"Yeah.\"\n"
] | [
1,
13
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"1514176752",
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[WP] The afterlife is basically heaven except everything you’ve ever lost appears around you; you don’t know this until you’re there, though. | 2 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"A bright light appears around me. I'm not sure where i am. I remember dying judt a couple of hours ago. Could this be heaven?\nThe landscape that surrounds me is empty. Everything is all white and empty as far as i can see. And then i see it.\nMy car keys.\nNice, i think to myself.\nAnd i sit in the silence crying because now my only friend is a pair of fucking keys",
"\"Is that...is that really her?\", I thought to myself. My heart starts to race. As the young, dark-haired girl approaches me from a distance down the walkway, I make out an illuminating smile on her face. Not a courteous smile, but a smile of sincere happiness directed at me, and intentioned solely for me. Her dark brown eyes lock on to mine and I'm transfixed. I would have never broken eye-contact with her had she not given me a flirtatious little wave off to the side. My eyes dart over to her hand. She waved her fingers at me like the crescendo of an ocean tide falling just past the breaker -- all her fingers fully extended, starting with her smallest finger, slowly bringing it down to her palm, with each finger next to it following each other in a smooth, elegant succession, ultimately bringing her hand into a loose fist that disappeared as quickly as my fleeting sense of hope. I scan her face to regain eye-contact. But hers, now, are off in the distance; heading to a place I just came from. It was only then that my stomach dropped and I realized, \"No...that's not really her\". She's nothing more than a mirage of a life I once lived.\n\nShe was beautiful nonetheless. \"I should have said Hi to her\", I thought to myself. What a wasted opportunity. Perhaps I could have stopped her. Maybe I could have asked her out for a coffee. Should I turn back to chase her? To catch up with her? Why would I even want to, though? \n\nI don't know this girl. I've never seen her before in my life. As radiant as she is, she has already let me down. She has already shown me -- with nothing more than her unrecognizable face and sudden indifference to me -- that she is not the person I've longed for all these years. She's heading to a place I've been countless time before; a place that scares me more than anything. Heaven. Only Heaven -- where all that's lost is found; where I have *everything* to lose -- can ever reveal the unfathomable depths of Hell that I'll drag her through to hold on to what I'm so afraid to lose. \n\n\"It's best to just let her walk by this time. No sense in hurting *two* people this time around\". \n\n\n\n "
] | [
1,
3,
3
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"1514241110",
"1514242373",
"1514248084"
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[WP] The superhero and the supervillain realize they have crushes on eachother. They agree to meet in costume to talk about their ideals. | 30 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"We met exactly at midnight, as agreed. Him in his torn, black robes and skull mask, me in my flowing white dress with flowers in my hair.\n\nDeath looked over to me, his eyes full of exhaustion and pain.\n\nI decided to start. \"I love you, Death.\"\n\n\"I know.\" Death whispered hoarsely.\n\n\"But why do the people of this world hate you? And why do they love me?\" I inquired.\n\nDeath sighed. \"Because you are a comforting lie,\"\n\nHe reached out a pale hand. A bird flew into his palm, and collapsed, dead.\n\n\"And I am a terrible truth.\"",
"**The princess and the thief**\n\n***\n\nShe was literally a princess which had always amused Jax, born to rule another planet far far away, Jax guessed the small discreet crown she wore paid lip service to this fact, to most people it meant nothing, but Jax knew, Jax knew the reason it wasn’t bigger was because her planet was destroyed and she was never officially made queen, although Jax had always reasoned that since the old queen was presumed dead, that would make Allura the de facto queen. But he supposed it didn’t really matter now. \n\nJax was sitting behind a desk, not his desk, the man whose desk Jax now sat behind was uh “deceased,” as Jax would have put it. Across the room from him stood Allura, if anyone could manage the act of simply standing still and appearing self-righteous it would be Allura, Jax thought. She wore her signature costume, Red and black, skin-tight with a skirt and high boots, a small mask covering just the top half of her face, she had Jett black hair and was in Jax’s and everybody else with a pulse's opinion beautiful, Jax had always found it hilarious no one could tell who she was in her alter ego, all she did was wear glasses, and she still looked like a princess. She was taller than Jax, and honestly in this moment Jax was slightly afraid of her, she could rip him in two without a second thought, of course she wouldn’t, Jax thought with a slight smile. Jax would have liked to think it was because they had some kind of connection, they had fought for so long, shared so many personal moments, who else could really understand what it was like to be at the top of the world, equal to so few. \n\nIt was at that moment that Jax’s train of thought was broken by a crash, Allura had thrown a filing cabinet at him, or at least in his general direction, it smashed against the wall to his right, splitting into pieces.\n\n“Jax you piece of shit!” Allura yelled, even when she was angry Jax couldn’t help but think how cute her voice was. “What the hell are you up?” \n\n“Well-” Jax was cut off before he could explain \n\n“Well what?” Allura’s legitimate anger caught Jax off guard, he’d only seen her like this a couple of times. “You promised you would stop last time!” \n\n“Oh come on, you really expected me to stop?” Jax said with his usual smug demeanor, but a bit of uncertainty showed through. “Besides,” he said less smugly, “It’s not like I had much of a choice.” Allura silently fumed, gritting her teeth. \n\n“That doesn’t mean you had to lie.” \n\n“Dunno, I was literally in prison for life, felt like the right time to lie.” Jax paused, sounding clever all the time was hard work, and he was honestly for once in his life a bit nervous, “and besides, I kinda liked being the good guy for once.” Jax feigned sheepishness, although, like many things he said, it wasn’t entirely untrue. \n\n“Ha ha,” Allura said sarcastically, her rage seeming slightly cooled. “Where is it Jax, I know you’re trying to crack the roof vault. Where is the drill?” \n\n“Ha, you think too little of me,” Jax said with a smile, “a drill is fun and all but where’s the style to it?” Jax loved style from his dark navy suit, to his perfectly shined black dress shoes, his twenty-five thousand dollar watch and his hundred dollar haircut, all part of his image as the smoothest criminal in the world. Of course, why does any man dress well? Women of course, or men... or in Jax's case both reportedly.\n\n“And your all about style aren’t you,” Allura glared, “the world didn’t see through your lies but I did.” \n\n“Well it shouldn’t be that hard since you have x-ray vision,” Jax grinned again, more genuinely.\n\n“It doesn’t work like that,” Allura muttered, scanning the room. \n\n“Indulge my curiosity,” he paused, choosing his words carefully, “how does it work, exactly?” \n\nAllura stopped looking around the room, her eyes darting back to the short man behind the desk. “What?” she said incredulously. \n\nJax froze as her eyes landed on him, “uh, I mean…” he trailed off. She looked at him very intently, Jax felt himself freezing up, he was like a kid again talking to his high school crush, he wet his lips and nervously tried to go back into his persona that he had been knocked out of by her gaze. “What can you see through exactly?” he said coyly\n\n“Allura tilted her head, “I mean, I just have to focus on something, I can’t really explain it.” She said guardedly. \n\n“How about clothes, for instance mine?” It would have been funny, if he had said it with his usual bravado, one of his many flirtations that were just taken as jokes meant to throw Allura off guard, but his voice quaked slightly, his gaze averted for just a second, and his pulse quickened, Jax was off his game today.\n\nAllura looked at him intently, focusing before jumping back in surprise, blushing. \n\nJax paused, that was not the reaction he expended, he had always thought it would be funny to try and get her to use her x-ray vision on him, but the blushing… that was strange, to see a hint of human weakness. Jax regained his composure and put on his best shit-eating grin. “Like what you see?” \n\nAllura had her gaze averted and her hands over her face, she was still blushing slightly, she turned slowly towards Jax, attempting to right herself. “W-why did you do that?” Allura stammered. \n\nJax tried to act like his normal self, but he was having a hard time keeping it together. he shrugged, “I was always curious how it worked.\" \n\nAllura laughed nervously. This was incredibly odd and Jax had to metaphorically pinch himself. \n\nSadly in spite of himself, Jax reverted to his normal mode of thought, how can I get out of this, checking his watch he realized now what was unlikely before, was not impossible, escape. \n\nAllura snapped back into reality, glaring. At Jax, “y-you fuck!” her eyes started to glow.\n\nJax blood ran cold, normally seeing “The Princess” swear, and in such a funny manner would have made his day. But she was angry now, very angry, and it was directed him. He had only seen her like this once before and the fate of the whole city was on her shoulders at that point. Incidentally, Jax had helped defeat the alien threat, but the only thing anyone actually remembers is the fact he also stole the Federal Reserve, he remembers this all half nostalgically and half bitterly. \n\nAllura's eyes roared with flame, and she fired an eye blast, carving into the window behind Jax who instinctively rolled out of the way, even though the blast obviously wasn’t meant for him.\n\n“Woh woh woh,” Jax stammered, kneeling on the ground now, attempting to get to his feet. “It was just a joke, what did I do to make you so mad?” \n\n“MAD?” Allura was across the room in a flash, grabbing Jax by the throat, she started towards the window. \n\n“Jesus Christ, let go of me, I can explain!” He yelled. All the blood had left Jax's face and panic was setting in. He had only seen Allura kill once before, and he was keen not to see that again. \n\nDespite Jax’s protests Allura slammed him through the window with a crash, now holding him out 500ft above the city streets, the wind whipped past and stung at Jax’s cheeks, he was now struggling for breath and attempting not to look down. \n\n“You were stalling for time?” Allura yelled angrily, tightening her grip on Jax’s throat. Jax could swear he saw a single teardrop on her face. \n\n\n“I mean… kind of, b-but,” Jax gasped for air, “I---I actually do like you.” Jax couldn’t believe what he was saying, and if his face wasn’t already turning purple from the wind and the strangling, he would have been most certainly blushing.\n\nAllura’s face softened, still on guard and confused she seemed to tighten her grip even more, but a slight smile also played across her face. “Y-you like me?” she said uncertainly. “this isn’t some trick? Her features hardening again.\n\nJax had run out of air and could only barely manage a shake of his head and “c-can’t breath.”\n\nAllura relaxed her grip… too much, dropping Jax, her almost smile turning to horror. Time seemed to stop for Allura, willing all her muscles to move she was frozen in fear. All the good times the two had had together flashing before her eyes, honestly though if she had thought about it more, the sum total of their time together would have just irritated her. After what seemed like an eternity to Allura she dove for the edge of the room and out the building. \n\nBut she only got half way before Jax reappeared, standing triumphantly on the black owl, his stealth plane, it seemed to have caught him. She also noticed something else, the roof was coming off, or rather being torn off. \n\nHer mind was everywhere, not focused, confused. Then it hit her… the roof vault. Another one of Jax’s autonomous planes was absconding with the roof vault, which it turned out was actually much more literal than she first had thought. \n\n“Y-you bastard.” she managed. \n\nJax grinned and shrugged. “Yeah that’s me.” his grin seemed to lessen slightly and he became slightly more serious, even a bit bashful Allura thought, she couldn’t tell if the redness in his cheeks was from the cold or embarrassment. The two were still for some time, seemingly looking through each other, both planes hovering and the giant vault swaying back and forth on the hook from the 2nd black owl. \n\nJax finally broke the silence, “I don’t have your phone number, do you even have a phone?,” His grin was back and finally genuine, Allura thought. \n\n“Y-you weren't lying?” Allura managed to get out. \n\n\"Not about that,\" Jax said simply.\n\nAnd with that Jax flashed one more grin and snapped his fingers, the 2nd black owl went supersonic. “Noon, times square, how about coffee?” he yelled as his black owl’s engines revved and he climbed into the cockpit. The black owl blasted away from Allura. \n\nThe vault slammed into the roof, crashing through 3 floors and making an extreme amount of noise. Allura stood still, seeming lost in thought for a while, a shy smile came over her face, and all she could think was: \n\nI have a date. "
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"1514317997",
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[WP] You're home-sick for a place you've never been. | 4 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"Last night, I dreamt of it again. It's been far too long since I visited. Thankfully, my memory hasn't failed me. \n\nI still knew the red painted halls, and the winding staircase. Ah, and how angry mom would be if we touched the glass! I remember being scared to sleep in the guest room, afraid of the lights dancing on the walls. \n\nI've been forgetting, as of late. I no longer remember where my father kept his razor, or the pattern on the carpet. I can hear my dog barking, but I don't remember which ear was white.\n\nThinking of all the details I've forgotten, a wrenching feeling begins in my gut. A bittersweet tug, driving me back. A dryness, in my mouth and eyes. With a foreign dread, I realize that I am homesick. \n\nI can stand it no longer. Short legs propel me out of bed. Tiny feet patter down the shadowy halls. Quickly! Before I forget again! \n\nFinally, I reach the door. My inexperienced fingers slip on the doorknob. I see them, the two lying in the bed, sleeping soundly. My tounge trips over syllables I have no cause to say. \n\n\"Mommy? Can we go back? Please?\"\n\nA groan from the bed. My father rolls onto his side. \"Tim,..\"\n\nMy mother rejoins the living at the mention of my name. \"Wha?. Tim? Need a drink?\"\n\n\"I need to go *home*!\" I insisted. \n\nThe zombies in the bed are barely listening. \"Alright. Mommy will get you some water, then we'll get you back in bed. Ok?\"\n\nActually, now that she mentions it, I am thirsty. My urgent message of moments before slinks away, unnoticed. I nod. \"Ok.\"\n\nAnd when the child again lays sleeping, the mother lays awake. Laying in her room, at the end of the hall, in the only home her child had ever known."
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"1514385855",
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[WP] "...The killing was fun for a while, but then I started recognizing their faces. How they screamed... How they died." *End of transmission.* | 7 | [
"**Off-Topic Discussion**: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to 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)\n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide)\n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n",
"“At first, killing was fun,” the familiar voice mutters. “Then I started recognizing faces.”\n\t\nThis is the fourth time.\n\nEvery Wednesday. Three PM. Phone kicks on, untraceable number calls. My room’s flooded with cops listening to the same thing as me. They weren’t here the first two times, and I can tell—despite how nice they’re being—they don’t think I’m in danger. *Just a prank-caller*, I imagine sleepy-looking Detective Daniels thinking.\n\t\n“They always scream,” he continues. “When I’m asleep, I dream about them screaming. They fight back but they’re already dead, their story’s already *over.* Why do they plague me so? This is not fun. This is *Hell.*”\n\t\nThe last word’s growled and sends shivers down my spine. The Detective notices, resting her hand on my leg. She’s all smiles because for them, this is everyday. I don’t wanna hear about chopped up bodies because I’m likely to dream about them too.\n\t\nWorst part’s not knowing *why.* Whoever this scratchy voice is, they haven’t threatened me. They’re not making me watch over my shoulder as I go to work each morning. No, they’re simply *confessing.* They vaguely ramble their crimes and thoughts. I don’t get it, but I guess it’s hard to understand a psychopath.\n\t\n“Long ago I accepted my sins. I’m the monster everyone should avoid, but suddenly chains strangle my soul because I don’t enjoy what makes me, *me.* Killing’s become miserable. I’m a poet without a pen, dancer with a stage. Murderer without a passion, monster without the rage.”\n\t\nThere’s an eerie pause where sound fades completely, and for a moment, we think the transmission’s over. Slowly, noise fades back in. At first it’s a soft, static-buzzing. Then, it’s loud and obnoxious, enough to shake the entire room.\n\t\nIt’s someone *screaming.*\n\t\n“But I am what I am,” the voice says. “And I *will* rediscover this passion.”\n***\nIf you like this story, check out my sub! /r/LonghandWriter"
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"1514433817",
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