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] "Sir, you can't just walk in here wearing THAT and demand to talk to the board of directors!" | 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",
"Security stopped the man at the door. \"Sir, you can't just walk in here wearing THAT and demand to talk to the board of directors.\"\n\nThe man tried to tell them, \"I didn't have time to change into a suit, I came straight from the beach.\" \n\nWhen they continued to refuse, he left, enraged. Shortly afterward, the CEO came down and asked the security, \"Where is my brother? He called me before his phone died and said he was on his way here from the beach.\"\n\n"
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[removed] | [WP] Green Eggs and Ham, just that Joey is a huge douchebag. | 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/8h6c76/wp_green_eggs_and_ham_just_that_joey_is_a_huge/%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're a superhero in a bank being robbed and everyone is taken as a hostage. You don't have your costume and there are cameras everywhere | 100 | [
"**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 penal system is intended to follow a policy of rehabilitation. That means that when a criminal gets convicted of some crime, it's expected that they stop committing such crime when they return to normal society.\n\nThere's some sort of statistic out there that suggests that in any comic book universe, that rehabilitation almost definitely doesn't work. Though, this is mostly because writers need some sort of way to keep reintroducing conflict and continue creating new issues.\n\nSoundwave, known in private life as Amos Audi, looked up from his phone when he heard the first few gunshots in the bank. He gripped the paycheck in his jacket pocket a little tighter and pushed a pair of earphones closer into his ears.\n\nAt this point, a few of the local denizens were starting to grumble and shriek. In the back of the bank, a tall and well-dressed man was approaching the crowd alongside a group of equally well-dressed thugs wielding submachine-guns. \n\nThis well-dressed man, Tom \"Bad Tommy\" Baddman, had just gotten out of prison for the twenty-seventh time in the past four years. Soundwave had been there to apprehend him about fourteen out of twenty-seven times, personally. \n\nThe young hero sighed and looked up at the corners in the ceilings of the bank. There were cameras everywhere. There were strict policies in the fourteen hero organizations (including the Revengers, the Z-Men, the Z-Force, the Injustice Shmucks, the Justice Shmucks, the Young Whatevers, and the Teen Whatevers) that prevented a given hero from breaking out of their secret identity to fight evil under public scrutiny.\n\nAllegedly, it was a policy designed to prevent villains from being able to target their loved ones. You know, the villains that, once caught, end up breaking out of jail anyway to do whatever kind of criminal wrongdoings they feel like.\n\nSoundwave groaned as the thought of getting into a fight now passed through his mind. It would mean a large pay deduction and he was already struggling to make rent this month. Especially since that car crash last Tuesday, when Magnet-Witch destroyed a city block, ended up totalling his car and royally fucking him over since he didn't have unnatural-disaster protection.\n\nSoundwave looked over to Bad Tommy and shot him a nasty look for the inconvenience he was experiencing. Bad Tommy started to walk over, calling over a few of his armed thugs to follow him in a menacing way that would normally call for a full-page depiction in a given comic book.\n\nBad Tommy started saying a few things. Soundwave didn't care. Mostly out of disinterest and partly because of the deafness. So, he just shook his head and nodded here and there. This pissed Bad Tommy off.\n\nThe robber-boss snapped a finger and the machine guns began firing overhead. The crowd of denizens plus Soundwave ducked their heads to avoid the fire. Babies were crying. Men were crying. Women were crying. A teenage misfit was recording the whole thing on Snapchat. It was business as usual.\n\nSoundwave moved to his jacket zipper. It took about three seconds for him to realize that he was shirtless underneath and had no costume on him at the moment since it was at the home in the busted washer that made this weird sound whenever you ran it.\n\nIt was at that moment, when Soundwave was busy thinking about how shitty his apartment was and how shitty this lame archnemesis of his was and how shitty his life was in general, that Soundwave just stopped thinking.\n\nSoundwave looked at the cameras on the ceiling and realized that with his costume, his identity was always concealed. In public life, Soundwave was Amos Audi, a good-for-nothing freelance writer who was paid what was common for his work, which was very little. He had no friends, no family, and just a single cat named Tammy whom he loved with all of his heart.\n\nIt was a pathetic identity. A waste of an identity. It was the very definition of what you would call a pathetic human existence.\n\nI, Amos Audi, thought this to myself and got up.\n\nOne of the smaller thugs noticed this and aimed his gun at me before pulling the trigger. Due to the wasteful firing from earlier, the thug quickly noted that he was out of bullets. Actually, so were most of the other thugs.\n\nNo one really thinks about reloading when robbing a bank for some reason in the comics.\n\nA few of them tackled me and were pushed off almost immediately. A loud ringing went around the room as the soundwaves in the air cracked and fizzled about.\n\nBad Tommy saw this and yelled proudly at his men to fire before proudly running away. I ran after him. The bank had insurance anyway.\n\nAs I caught up to Tommy, I pulled the earphones out of my ear, allowing my sweaty ear canals to breathe. We were in an allley away from the bank. Tommy started to say some things again as a I read his lips.\n\nFrankly, it was all uninteresting garbage so I didn't pay much attention. I saw the red-and-blue flashing of siren-light around the corner. The police were coming to the bank to deal with the rest of the situation.\n\nI gripped Tommy by the collar. He started laughing, cackling in my face.\n\nI cupped a hand around his ear and fired away a blast of pure sound. There was nobody watching anyway. Sure, the other heroes are going to give me a verbal thrashing when they figure out from the camera recordings that I \"broke character\" and brought out my powers, but they didn't pay me enough to care to start with.\n\nNo, I don't think this whole chase and me deafening a villain is really justice or anything grand like that. I was just annoyed.\n\nI thought about this again. I had acted without thinking. I basically just crippled a human being for annoying me. I could actually get in some serious trouble for that. No, I will get in serious trouble for that.\n\nI focused my attention on Tommy again as I saw him now wide-eyed and asking something about what I'd done to him. His head jerked around wildly. I put my hand on his other ear and fired again. Now, he really started jerking around violently.\n\nI nodded and began mouthing some gibberish at him. I didn't get as much of a rise as I thought I would, so it got boring fast.\n\nSuddenly, I felt something tap at my back. I turned around. It was a police officer in a blue shirt and cap and body armor. He was covered in blood. There must've been a nasty shootout. On the bright side, him being conscious meant he was a lot more competent than most comic cops.\n\nI smiled at him and waved. Then I returned my attention to Tommy. The officer tried to shake me away. But, I'm a superhero. I'm stronger than him. I'm stronger than a lot of these normal people.\n\nI closed my hands around the back of Tommy's neck and tried my best to see if just how badly I could vibrate his spine. After a while, it stopped vibrating. It was like jelly at a certain point. So, I tried again.\n\nThe officer shook me harder. It was getting really irritating. I ignored him. Tommy was already limp, so he might as well just let me have my fun with him since he wasn't going to get any better soon anyway. A few other officers began to flood the alley. The police cars came by. An ambulance was speeding down the street, at least I'm guessing.\n\nNone of that really mattered. I looked down at the pathetic villain and pushed him to the ground. Then, I balled my fists and started punching.\n\nThis was satisfaction. Real satisfaction.\n",
"I had a problem. \n \nSo there I was, just minding my own business, trying to cash my check before it bounced, when some moron decided \"Hey, today I'll go rob a bank,\" and now he and about a dozen other people were there waving guns telling us to hit the floor. So there I lay, hands above my head, resting on an ornate railing that divided the teller lines. \n \nNow, I wasn't one of those heroes who needed a costume--I'd just transform and be done with it. However, I had already given my ID to the teller. To make matters worse, I was a regular at this bank, so if I transformed I'd be recognized immediately. The final nail in the coffin was the stupid robber who was vlogging the whole thing. So, I did nothing. \n \nOkay, I didn't exactly do *nothing.* My powers allowed me, among other things, to turn objects into snakes that followed my will. Thankfully, there was nobody behind me, so I twisted my hand slightly, brushing my fingers against the rail behind me. The rail melted into a cobra, slithering silently away. I repeated this process several more times, creating a small, but elite, task force. As the bandits were distracted with shouting at their hostages and telling the tellers to hurry up, I mentally gave the signal to attack. From seemingly out of nowhere my cobras lunged, sinking their fangs into their unsuspecting prey. One guard yelled, dropping his gun in surprise as a cobra bit his wrist. As my serpentine servants subdued the screaming saboteurs, the rest of their comrades' attentions were drawn away from the hostages and to the still-struggling scandals. I took this opportunity to extend my grasp to the rest of the railing behind me, creating more and more snakes with which to work my magic. The rest of the criminals fell in a similar manner, the manifested cobras striking from out of the shadows. \n \nThe cops arrived to find the culprits correctly constricted, captured by my commanded cobras. As they hauled them away and interviewed the hostages, I silently turned my minions back into the fence. The bank closed, and I went home, satisfied with a job well done. \n \nI got home, relaxing on the couch. I'd go tomorrow to deposit my check--it wouldn't bounce for a few more days, so I was good. \n \nThen I remembered that tomorrow was Sunday, and the day after that was a holiday. ",
"I know what you're thinking. 'Just fly faster than the eye can see!' \n\nNope, not that kind of hero. In all truth, I'm not much of a hero at all. More of a government labrat, to be completely honest. For a few years back in the 80s, they recruited old soldiers like me for new rounds of testing on the WWII 'Super Soldier' stuff. Didn't work, really. Okay, maybe it worked a little. You wouldn't know it by looking at me, though. Hell, I just came in to deposit my SSI check. You know that guy in front of you, in flannel, smelling of ointment and Gold Bond? That's me. They got us all huddled in the middle of the room, our backs to the wall, two guys covering us with 10/22s, modified for full auto fire. Yikes. I'll be fine, but the rest of my fellow hostages won't be.\n\nI hear you again. 'You can take them! You can be a hero!' Nah, trust me. It took me 15 years to lose the army types that juiced me up, I'm not about to let it slip that I didn't actually die in that very painful explosion back in the early 90s. \n\nThey're yelling again. Five guys, in their 30s and 40s, going through all the effort of being masked and gloved and still stupid enough to yell, all five of them, perfectly clear voices. Dumb asses. At their preliminaries, they'll probably look dumber when their lawyers explain what 'voice analytics' means. \n\nThe problem here, though, is how worked up they are. They know it's only a matter of time before a hero shows up to save the day. Shit, at this point, I wouldn't be surprised if the cops have them on speed dial. There was a time when cops resented the heroes for making them look bad and irrelevant. These days, cops are mostly guards, taking the bad guys when the heroes turn them over. And since most of the dumb asses wear calling-card costumes and gimmicks, tying them to crimes is easy enough that a first year PA rookie could do it.\n\nWhere was I? Oh. Right. They're on the edge of freaking out. The other hostages can feel it, too. It ain't going to take much to set them off. \n\nLuckily, I have a handful of hard candies.\n\nA boom overhead. For a second, I think it's him, the armored one with the snarky attitude. Then, nope, just a jet flying overhead. Still. It's enough.\n\nTakes only a second to line up the shot and 'plink' a bit of solid caramelized sugar, dyed Red#5, impacts the loudest yelling one, furthest from me, and he's down for the count. I only flicked it hard enough to injure, not kill.\n\nLuckily, none of them notice the recoil of the candy hitting his head, only him hitting the ground. Suddenly, the other four are full-blown shitting themselves, screaming at the hostages and pointing every gun they have on us. Their bags are full, but they can't carry the money 'and' him and they're not smart enough drop some of the loot to keep the crew intact. One breath, maybe two and it's going to go to hell. \n\n\"It's him. He's already here.\"\n\nThat got their attention, hostages, too. These days, these heroes are showing up every week, almost. No one can keep track. \n\n\"Who's already here? Spit it out, you old fuck!\" God, he's on the verge of literally shitting himself. He's excreting so much 'fear' that it's nearly enough to make me nauseous. That's my excuse for what comes next. I was literally fucked up by how freaked out they were.\n\n\"The Sphinx.\" \n\n\"The 'who?!\"\n\n\"The Sphinx, man. He just showed up this week. A psychic of some kind, flies around, you never see him, he just disables people from the shadows. They say he can destroy guns with a thought.\" Screw the critics, I love that movie. Thankfully, these guys never saw it, apparently.\n\nThe hostages? Some of them are staring at me so wide-eyed, it's obvious that they know I'm full of shit. Thankfully, they're all smart enough to let me talk without correcting me in front of the men with guns. To their credit, they also start nudging away from me. Smarter than they know. Ricochets are a real danger to unarmored targets when I'm around. \n\nI don't know if they bought it or not, never will, because it was about that time that the sound of sirens started to fade in. That got their attention for about two seconds as they all started whipping their heads this way and that, taking their eyes off me and my hard candies.\n\nTwo seconds later, all of them are on the ground, unconscious. \n\nTurns out, the cops were chasing a speeder. The tellers hadn't even had a chance to hit the silent alarm. Hilarious. \n\nGood news is that I got out of there 'before' the cops showed up.\n\nBad news is, I'm going to have to find a new branch office to deposit my checks. Because, fuck you, I'm not going to bother learning how to use direct deposit or whatever. Fucking computers. \n\nThat was my day. How was yours?\n\n "
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Examples: Cats shoot lasers out of their eyes, people eat dinosaurs for lunch, people breathe fire when they burp, god lives in a small apartment above a coffee shop in New York City, water is pink, pigs are common household pets, dogs grow to be over 20 feet tall, etc.
Edit: I can’t figure out how to change the title. But it should say “Write a sorry about...” | [WP] Something totally crazy and absurd is not only real, but it’s common knowledge and considered normal | 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 had been a quiet evening. \n\nAfter I got home from my soul crushing job, I just wanted to take a shower and relax. After getting out of the freezing cold artificial rain, I decided to turn on the TV to see what the world was up to. I wasn't a very avid TV watcher (I usually liked to watch silly videos on Vimeo), but today I just had the urge to turn on the old flatscreen and watch the news. Apparently not much had been happening in the last few months, it was just your typical horsecart incident or the occasional messenger Pterodactyl that had been shot down by a tank.\n\nI had been sitting there for about an hour, in an almost vegetative state, watching brainless soap operas, when suddenly a commercial for the latest thumb snacks, presented by the most happy looking Lizard-Lady I had ever seen, interrupted my dozing. More than the snack the expression of pure joy and contentedness with whatever the Lady was doing impressed me and woke me from my daze.\nThen suddenly I realized it... something was off...\n\nAs soon as I realized what that sensation was caused by, my jaw dropped at the pure surrealness before my eyes.\nI had been living a lie all my life. I told myself that I needed to work hard to have a normal life. But this... this changed everything. \n\nThe thing that caught me so off guard and turned my life upside down was the Lizard-Lady. That lady was the person that I had only seen in photographs before. \nShe was my lost mom.\n\nThis is my first story here and I don't quite know what exactly I was writing but I had fun doing so. I hope you liked it :D"
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[removed] | [WP] social media sites are kingdoms. Pinterest full of moms, Tumblr full of sjws. One day reddit declares war on all of the kingdoms. | 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\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/8haip8/-/%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] The world believes you have earned the title of Hero. However, you are the clumsiest person alive, and each "heroic act" was merely just an accident. The media, however, has spun it like this: | 16 | [
"**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 remember the first time I found out I was special. I was sixteen. New York City was in its second straight day of a great deluge and I was late for work. \n\nMy mother worked nights. We didn’t have a car, and my income was hardly enough to keep the lights on. But it was necessary and for the third time this week I was going to clock in at 9:15. \n\n“Crap, crap,” I said, my feet pounding on the slick pavement. More than once I bumped a person and hastily begged their pardon, but the rain made it nearly impossible to see. If it weren’t for my old raincoat and the borrowed rubber boots I wouldn’t even be presentable when I finally arrived at work. Assuming I wasn’t going to be fired. \n\nAhead I could just make out the steady white palm of the crosswalk sign fade away and the ten second countdown begin. I ran harder, determined to beat the changing of the stoplights and stumbled into the crosswalk as the orange 1 flashed away. \n\nA kamikaze raindrop hit me in the eye. Instinctively, I reached to wipe the intruding water from my eye ignoring the sound of screeching tires and a horn. I felt the squishy thud of another human hit me in the chest hard enough to launch the poor soul forward, sprawling to the ground with a sickening crash. From my left the tires quit screeching and the car coming through the intersection wrapped around my waist like a weird metal belt and came to a stop. \n\n“Can you please stop honking?” I asked the driver, too stunned to understand all that had just occurred. The now totaled car had collided with me, stopped on impact, and it hadn’t even hurt. \n\nThe poor person I clumsily knocked out of the car’s path was standing up, soaked in dirty rainwater. \n\n“You … you saved me,” she said as she reached out to hug me. \n\n“Uh, yeah. I’m gonna be late for work.”\n\nI stumbled over the lady’s purse and ran. \n\nEnd Part One"
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[WP] A book character meets their movie adaptation. | 10 | [
"**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 was a chilly October evening, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione were back for their final year of Hogwarts. After a year of hunting down Horcruxes and a climactic showdown at Hogwarts castle, the trio was hoping for the possibility of one last normal year as a Hogwarts student. \nNot that they knew what a normal year at Hogwarts looked like, but they were hoping all the same. They had yet to reveal any plots to kill Harry Potter, so the three friends were cautiously optimistic about their chances.\n\nNonetheless, life went on at Hogwarts, and it seems that Harry's massive fame had finally spread to all of Dumbledore's Army, and especially his \"generals\" Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Luna, and Neville. \n\nAfter 2 months of young students crowding them and asking about escaping on dragons and fighting Death Eaters, it took a toll on them all, which is why Harry, Ron, and Hermione were seeking respite in the Room of Requirement. \n\n\"Blimey, Harry, I can't bel-\"\n\n*pop*\n\nAll of the sudden, there inside the room, appeared 3 people who looked like movie star versions of Harry, Ron, and Hermione.\n\nAll six people Drew their wands.\n\n\"Oi, who're you lot?\" said book Ron, indignantly.\n\n\"We could ask you the same thing.\" said movie Hermione.\n\n\"How did you get in here?\" asked book-Hermione, puzzled. \n\n\"What do you mean? You appeared *here*,\" said movie Ron, worriedly and confused.\n\nBook-Harry looked at the three Intruders intensely, assessing how they moved and talked. They looked so familiar to him, but more than that, he felt some sort of connection, somehow. Over the years, he had honed his instincts and learned to trust them, and now, they were telling him that he didn't need to fear these familiar strangers. Still, he had to be safe.\n\n\"You. Pretty boy. Name?\" asked book-Harry. \n\n\"Wot?..Harry. Harry Potter.\" \n\n\"What? That's impossible.\" said book-Hermione. \n\n\"Why's that, then?\" said movie Harry.\n\n\"Because *that's* Harry Potter, right there. \" \n\n\"What? That's impossible.\" said movie Hermione.\n\nMovie Harry stepped in.\n\n\"Really, Hermione? After everything you've seen?\" Said both Harrys at the same time.\n\n\"There you go, Harry. I knew there was hope for you yet.\" Said a new voice dreamily, as they all looked around to see a familiar blonde girl appear out of nowhere. \n\n\"Luna!\" Exclaimed both trios.\n\nFor indeed, Luna Lovegood had appeared in front of them. Oddly enough, both sides immediately recognized her, as it seemed that her appearance had features that they knew of her, but were somehow mixed in with what was presumably the other trio's Luna's features.\n\n\"Hello, everyone. It's nice to see all of you. \" Said Luna. \" I can see that there are a lot of Wrackspurts in here, so let me clear up the confusion.\"\n\n\"We're all fictional characters. *You* lot, are from a popular book series, and *you* over there are from the movie adaptation of said book series.\"\n\n\"And what about you? Which are you from? \" Said book-Ron, skeptically. \n\n\"Neither.\" replied Luna, dreamily and mysteriously. \" I'm an almalgamation of all of the fan-fiction Luna Lovegoods, which means I know way too much information about weird or impossible events because I'm supposedly a Seer or a great prophet, even though in both the book and in the movie, I'm simply a bit eccentric. \"\n\n\"Erm...and why're you here?\" asked book Harry.\n\n\"Why, to explain all of this and diffuse the tension, of course. \" replied Luna, oddly. \"Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to go talk to a time-travelling Harry Potter and completely catch him off guard by noting how old his eyes look. Nice to see everyone!\"\n\n Luna walks to the door and leaves. Harrys were caught off guard.\n\n\"When Voldemort used Avada Kedavra on you again, who did you talk to?\" asked book-Harry. \n\n\"Dumbledore. Your Firebolt. Who gave it to you?\" said movie Harry.\n\n\"Sirius. As a Christmas present. Went on to win the Quidditch Cup with it that year.\"\n\n\"Wait, wot? I didn't get mine until the end of the year! Why-\"\n\n\"Budget constraints!\" Yelled fan-fiction Luna, cheerily and dreamily.\n\nBoth Rons move off to the side. \n\n\"So, are we really gonna believe ol' loony Luna?\" said book-Ron. \n\n\"Yeah.\" said movie Ron, nodding.\n\n\"And that's really *your* Hermione? I mean, I'm happy with mine. She's the best thing that ever happened to me, but that's *really* your Hermione?\" Asked book Ron, incredulously.\n\n\"Yeah,\" replied movie-Ron, grinning.\n\n\"Blimey.\" said book-Ron, admiringly.\n\n\"Yeah.\" agreed movie-Ron proudly.\n\n\"*Ronald!*\" said both Hermione exasperatedly."
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"1525581978",
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[WP] You are a struggling actor. You're ready to give up your So. Cal dreams and move back home to Kentucky when your agent calls and offers a well paying gig. The role? Person suffering from chronic diarrhea in a medicine commercial to be played during the Super Bowl. | 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",
"“Frank, if you don’t take this you’re done! No casting director is going to so much as breathe in our direction! Don’t be stupid, I’ve been sticking my neck out for you for your whole career, don’t betray me, hell don’t betray *your* dream here Frank!” Tom shouted through the receiver of Frank’s cellphone.\n\nFrank sighed and rubbed his eyes with his open hand before throwing his hand up in the air and shouting back ,“What career, Thom? The Denny’s job? In-N-Out Burger, maybe? SIGN FLIPPER EXTRAORDINAIRE?”\n\nA woman cupped her hands around her daughter’s ears and ushered her past the bench Frank was sitting on. He shot her a look of scorn and continued, “I appreciate what you’re trying to do for me here Thom, but I’m ready to give up, there are no real roles for me here. I’ve got my bags packed, and my dad’s auto shop back in Kentucky needs a mechanic anyways.”\n\nTom laughed. “You naïve fool, I haven’t even told ya’ the details of this gig and you’re turning me down? And for what? Your ‘pride’ as an actor? A mechanic job in Kentucky?” Tom laughed again. “Listen pal, you can try to convince me, give me the lecture about the ‘real’ roles in Hollywood, but the only thing real about anything here is the money. And the only difference between this commercial and a spot next to DiCaprio is the amount, so all things considered, Frank, this role is pretty much as real as you can get. But you know what, fine, you go back to Kentucky, and you tinker around in your fathers shop with your perfectly manicured hands that haven’t done a days worth of hard labor since you arrived here in LA, go ahead, I won’t stop ya’.”\n\nFrank sat back, closed his eyes, and furrowed his brow. He looked at the soft, smooth pink skin stretched out over the meat of his hand before finally speaking into his phone, “How much, Thom?”\n\n“250.”\n\n“That’s it?”\n\n“Thousand.”\n\nFrank sat bolt upright from his slouched position, eyes wide open with manic disbelief.\n\n“That’s right, Frank. You heard me right. I’ve landed you *the* chronic diarrhea medicine commercial. It’s going to be aired for the Super Bowl, for a million scouts to see. I’ll send you the script, you only got one line.”\n\n“Thanks, Thom. You need anything else from me, Thom?”\n\n“You just worry about that line.”\n\n“Don’t have to worry about that. I’ll see ya’ around Thom.”\n\n“Wait! My name is *Tom*, not *Thom* you daft fool!”\n\n——————————————————————————\n\n“Alright, we’re going to add the narration in post, so I’m just going to give you the signal and you say your line, alright?”\n\n“Alright,” Frank smiled.\n\nFrank saw Tom standing off set, and he shot Frank a confident grin and a thumbs up. Frank just formed his lips into the same smile. He was content, felt as light as the breeze drifting over the hay bails and cow pastures of the hills of Mason County in the warm sunlight.\n\nThe studio lights flicked on over head, like the bright lights of the great Rupp Arena, and suddenly he was driving out of Lexington, watching the scenery pass him by. He headed east, and he saw those great stone walls, built by the Irish in the 1800s, and beyond those he saw the green grass of the fields torn up in little divots here and there, exposing the great brown soil, the soul of the Earth, the place where the tobacco plants called home, and suddenly from a distant place, an old memory perhaps, he heard someone call *”Action!”* He saw a great beast, a horse, young and strong, and from it’s great anus the steaming chunks of brown dropped to the grass below.\n\nFrank snapped his head back, staring up into burning lights above, and his lips curled back into a wide toothy smile as the tears streamed down his face. He bellowed to the heavens above, the imposing gods of the Bluegrass, “*I’M DIAR-READY!*” And his seat soaked as the great chunks exploded forth and flowed steady and fast as the Ohio during April. \n\nFrank laughed, his face filled with life, his eyes with tears, and his soul with vindication.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n"
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1,
5
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"1525629919",
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[WP] You find out one day after explaining your nightly dreams to your partner sleeping next to you that she/he is having the exact same dreams as you. I'm fact, they are your sidekick within your dream. You realize that you have the ability to control your dreams if you hold hands while sleeping. | 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",
"God, was it cool. Being able to control my dreams, I mean. Being able to change them at will, in any way I chose. I could fly, I could run faster than lightning, hell, I could even elongate my dreams over centuries. \n\nThat, last one, I found a bit odd. It was almost as if I could sleep forever, doing whatever I wanted in the meanwhile, but, time still moved normally outside my dreams. I could sleep for years, yet only be asleep for maybe, 8 hours, give or take.\n\nI abused this ability, a lot. Speaking to my wife within our dreams, that way, I could please her. But eventually, it got tiring. Some times, I’d want to live normally for once, however, she kept me asleep, trying to make me do everything for her.\n\nA part of me thought it was cute, seeing her joyful smile, hearing her almost inaudible giggles. But it never occurred to me, what she was making me do. I remember it, in a weird way.\n\nI had been in my dream world for maybe, 4 or 5 years, doing as she wished, creating her perfect fantasy. At first, it was simple. Puppies and kittens everywhere, endless amounts of food for her to eat. But eventually, it turned, corrupt.\n\nThe sky she had worked so hard on, would turn a bloodshot red. These mysterious creatures would be born, ones with small, dark jagged spurs on their heads, horns.\n\nShe even made me change the way she looked, to me, she looked beautiful. But it wasn’t until my final day using my power that I realized, who she had become. Her skin, cracked and red. Redder than a pepper. The horns that were born on her creatures, were now on her. A dark crown, filled with gemstones that shone brighter than the sun. \n\nMy eyes finally opened, and I backed away at the terror I had seen. The “fantasy” world I had created, it was a recreation, a reincarnation, of hell.\n\nI was backed into a wall in her palace, when I heard her innocent, sweet, voice, “What’s wrong, sweetie? Are you feeling tired?”\n\nI shook my head insistently, and placed my hands on her arms. I shut my eyes, trying to wake up. And I did. I jerked upwards, my breathing getting heavier each second. Droplets of sweat rolling down my forehead and down my cheeks.\n\nI looked down, and saw my hand, intertwined with hers, I hesitated for a moment. I let go.\n\nShe bolted awake shortly after, she stared at me, with her pale, grey eyes. She didn’t blink, she didn’t say a word. Simply, she stood up and took slow steps towards the window, and opened the curtain. I fell off the bed at the sight.\n\nHer fantasy world, had come true. \n\nMy wife turned to face me, this time, her horns higher than ever, with a brighter colour. Her cracked, red skin, shone clearly when the light reflected off of it. \n\nI watched a mischievous smile form on her face, as her innocent, sweet voice, turned raspy, and deep. “What’s wrong sweetie? Are you feeling tired?”\n\nGod, it wasn’t dreams I was controlling, it was reality. And I just created the daughter of Satan.\n\n"
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1,
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"1525673898",
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[WP] you are a perfect empath, you cannot help but feel exactly what those around you feel. It can be inconvenient at times to say the least. | 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",
"Needless to say, it was a difficult life to live. My feelings of empathy were refined more than any other's, allowing me to feel every bit of the dread or the anxiousness someone felt. If I'm being honest, it was more of a curse than a benefit. Sure, I could relate to others better and yes it helped me achieve a decent career, but the emotional toll was quite heavy to bear at times. \n\nI'd had this ability since I was a child and it doesn't do enough justice to say it helped shape my life. This ability defined my life - everywhere I went my relatability was often praised. All the people I'd meet and helped told me I'd do very well as a psychiatrist; so here I am. After spending a large chunk of my life studying the human brain, I now work as a sole shrink, helping as many people as I can.\n\nMy presence has only been furthered by my patients through social media, drawing more troubled people to my office. The number of people struggling with schizophrenia, suicidal tendencies, social anxiety and a plethora of other things increased. On the outside this was a boon for me but on the inside it was a disease. \n\nIt's becoming very hard for me to keep myself together nowadays. When my patients feelings and emotions pour into me I feel everything - the cuts on their wrists, the tearing discomfort they feel in public, the voices speaking to them in their heads. I can't deny the near future for myself. I know what's coming and I can't prevent it. I can feel my mind escaping from me. I'm beginning to feel distant at times. \n\nMy life was shaped by the ability and will end by it's hand as well.\n\n***\n\n**r/TheNinthRanger** "
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1,
3
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"1525696757",
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[WP] A couple of weeks ago, I heard my neighbors' cat meowing so I responded with a "meow" of my own. This went on for about 3-4 exchanges until I opened the door and found it was not a cat, it was just another dude meowing back at me. | 2,493 | [
"**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",
"int. front door of my home - 9pm night\n\n\nA couple of weeks ago, I heard my neighbor's cat meowing so I responded with a \"meow\" of my own. This went on for about 3-4 exchanges until I opened the door and found it was not a cat, it was another dude meowing back at me. he had on a dingy white tee and some camouflage shorts with sandals.\n\nME\n\n\"... Dude. are you serious? I really thought I was fucking with a cat the entire time.\"\n\nOTHER DUDE\n\n\n\"I could say the same thing. what are you some kind of cat impersonator?\"\n\nME\n\n\n\"wait a minute, who are you? i definitely don't recognize you from around the neighborhood.\"\nthe other dude takes a few steps back like he's ready to run. I step a little closer.\n\n\nME\n\n\n\"ah ah ah. where did you come from? are you homeless?\"\n\n\nother dude let's out a deep exhale\n\n\nHOMELESS GUY\n\n\n\".. yeah. I hang around other people's houses and meow so that they think there's a cat and they'd leave me scraps outside. its worked for the while that I've been doing it.\"\n\n\nME\n\n\n\"that... sounds really made up.\"\n\n\nHOMELESS GUY\n\n\n\"I swear, people just leave shit outside if they hear a cat. I've proven it.\"\n\n\nME\n\n\n\"I'm not really believing that you sit outside someone's home and meow like a cat for who knows how long, until they give you food.\"\n\n\nHOMELESS GUY\n\n\n\"you don't have to believe me. it works. so since the cat's out of the bag, how about you give me a couple of bucks so that I can get to the next neighborhood?\"\n\n\nME\n\n\n\"god that pun was terrible. here.\"\n\n\nI hand him five dollars. just enough for him to take the bus to some other neighborhood that isn't mine.\n\n\nHOMELESS GUY\n\n\n\"you're doing god's work son. thanks a bunch.\"\n\n\nother dude walks away and I slowly creep back into my home.\n\n\nME\n\n\n\"yeah, don't mention it.\"\n\n\nI close the door and lock it. I stand there for a few seconds baffled.\n\n\nME\n\n\n\"what the hell just happened?\"\n\n\nI head in and flip on the television and almost a few hours later, I hear another meow.",
"\"You make uhhh... Nice cat sounds\", I said as I stared at that incredulous man, the one making cat sounds that sounded more like a cat than my uncle's cat.\n\n\"Can't help it man, this is how I get pussy\"\n\n\"You mean cat?\"\n\n\"You know my secret?\"\n\n\"What do you me--... Dude what the fuck\"\n\nThat was the last I ever saw of him, heard he moved to an animal shelter after that.\n\n\n",
"It felt like weeks had passed, but it had only been an hour, since I'd had the unpleasant experience of crawling through the back door, and vomiting up the contents of my stomach all over the floor. \nI made the mistake of using the handle to pull myself upright, and had inadvertently shut myself in. \n\n I didn't know whether to try to go out again, or just stay in and accept the consequences of my actions. I felt as weak as a day-old kitten, it was a struggle to stay upright, and the patter of rain beginning to fall outside, made the day a misery on top of misery.\n\nUsing the walls for support, I made my way into the hall that looked both familiar, and yet still strange in this dull light.\nIn an effort to regain a more assertive sense of balance, I forced myself to pace back and forth - slowly at first, as I wallowed in my current self-absorbed state, then more confidently - and then I heard a faint meow outside.\n\nMy curiosity pricked, I moved over to the front door and meowed gently back.\n\n\"Meow\" came the feline reply.\n\nI fumbled at the handle, my clumsy attempt to get a grip on the thing frustrating me. I dragged my fingers down the wood surface of the door in frustration!\n\nYet he was there, for I could hear him still, conversing inquisitively with me, beyond the stout wood. Perhaps he wondered what I was doing.\nI kept up my end, with sporadic meows. It probably sounded like I was pawing at the door. \n\n\nStaring hard at the handle, I thought perhaps this time I could manage it, if I could just get these stupid fingers to obey me faster.\nI concentrated hard, and clasped the little oval handle as tight as I could, between in both hands. I twisted this way.. then that.\nFinally, a click! \nI looked around in reflex - an old habit to see if anyone had caught me in the act, then slowly opened the door.\n\n\nIt wasn't at all what I expected - for instead of a little four legged friend, it was another man, like me. \nHe was naked except for a paper bag around his midsection - as if he'd jumped almost straight through it and it had gotten stuck.\nHe marched straight past me before I could even protest, and headed for the kitchen.\n\n\nNow in normal circumstances, this would have prompted me to lash out. One doesn't simply walk into another's territory like that, but I was pretty sure he'd been here before, because he smelled somewhat... familiar.\n\n\nI looked down at the paper bag that surrounded my own waist, and had to concede - perhaps we'd both been loitering over in the same forbidden garden. \n\nNever trust an old lady who usually sprays you with water, especially when she's suddenly all friendly, and putting a handful of catnip in an enticingly crinkly paper bag just for you. That the bag was in a pointed star shape on the ground, with candles around - well. Who pays attention to stuff like that really?\n\n\nAnyway. I caught up to the man. He had ginger hair on the top of his head, so I was pretty sure by now that this was indeed my neighbour, Mungus. I sidled around the kitchen door after him, as he did a circuit of the room.\n\n\"Meow?\" said I.\n\n\"Meow.\" said he.\n\n\nWe both looked at each other - then of a single purpose, we went over to the fridge.\nAfter a few minutes of us pawing and flailing in general at it, Mungus had the idea to make 'claw hands'. So we did that, and this was a success. I tugged firmly at the edge, and with a squopping sound, the fridge door yielded!\n\nThen - after all that effort - he fumbled the milk carton out of its little niche in the door, and it spilled all over the floor.\nI was pretty unimpressed. Hissing, I gave him a smack. He didn't like that much, and we - well. It causes me deep shame to confess that we flailed hands at each other for some time, making the most stupid noises. \n\nSeriously. Have you heard a human before? \"Ayaiyaiyaiyai, Ehwehwehwehweh\", that's what they sound like.\nRealising how unsatisfying this whole paddle-hands business was, we turned our backs on each other in a sulk, two grown humans, in paper bag attire. \n\nFor a moment I thought about pissing in the corner - you know - just to remind Mungus who lived here, but ingrained habits die hard. I have a box, and I know how to use it when I have to.\n\nI had a good long think. Where did the milk come from, BEFORE the fridge?\nThis was some serious existential shit. \n\n\nThere was a pause as a beam of sun broke through the thinning clouds outside, and made a nice patch of light through the window, onto the milk splashed floor. I shifted to stand in it, warming my strange wonkybean toes. Yeah, things would be alright.\n\n\"Mrow?\" I asked of Mungus, phrasing that very question about the origins of the milk.\n\n\"Meurrrr..\" he replied thoughtfully.\n\nGood point. The grocery shop on the corner.\nRun by a nice lady with a soft spot for us cats.\n\n\nSo we made our way to the front door, and after a little negotiation about who was going to leave first, and a couple of back and forths across the doorstep just to make sure both of us REALLY wanted to go out, we were ready. Almost.\n\n\nI took a moment to lick the back of my arm and run it through my fine dark hair. Let nobody say that Mufasa Boobookins steps out looking like a piece of shit.\n\nWe strutted off down the street together, to go see the lady in the little shop on the corner. This would work out just great!\n\n",
"What the fuck. I've lived here for a year and a half and haven't even learned this man's name.\n\n\"What the fuck,\" he exhales.\n\n\"Amen.\" I look down to see him eating tuna out of a can. College dining at it's finest.\n\nHe sees my gaze shift and holds the can up. \"Not quite fancy feast.\" \n\n\"Not fancy at all. Is that why you were meowing?\" \n\n\"Uhhh. Yea. The fancy feast commercial came on in my apartment and I thought it was ironic that I'm eating tuna, so I meowed. Also I'm good at meowing.\" \n\n\"You definitely are. Have you considered putting it on your resume?\"\n\n\"Ha-Ha. Good enough to fool you, at least.\" He finally lowers the can, looks back toward his TV, and then takes another bite. He doesn't move though, and just stands there. I stare awkwardly for a few more seconds, then realize he's not going to move and I've yet to shut the door. \n\n\"Why are you outside, barefeet, eating tuna and listening to your TV?\"\n\n\"Oh.. Uh.. Well, my roommate locked me out. I went to go get the mail,\" he sheepishly replies, while patting his pocket full of mail. \n\n\"Oh, bummer.. Well, you want to come in man?\"\n\n\"Yea sure man. What's your name?\" He switches his fork awkwardly to his left and reaches to shake my hand.\n\n\"John. And sweet, come on in. Just don't eat my tuna.\"",
"\"I'm walking on SUUUNN SHIIINE!! WOOHOOO!!! AND DON'T IT FEEL GOOD, OH!\"\nThere's few things better than singing in the shower, Lamont thought to himself. It starts the whole day off right. The hot steam from the shower clearing his mind from the morning drowsiness, and the music got him dancing. \n\"Baby I just want you back.\" he sang to the soap. He moved the soap to scrub under his armpit. He scrubbed away all the sleepiness in his joints, allowing his body to move the music\n\"AND I WANT YOU TO STAY!\" He sang into his soap mic. Lamont drummed his belly to the beat of the drum. \nDum-dududududu dumdum\n\"AND DON'T IT FEEL GOOD!\" \nDum-dududududu dumdum. \n\"AND DON'T IT FEEL GOOD\"\nLamont shook his butt against the soap to the beat of the song, enjoying the feel of the soap, the vibe of the music, and the joy of the shower. He wasn't thinking about his job, or how much time he had left. The shower was HIS time, his moment away from it all, and he got to let loose for a few minutes before school started. He din't have to think about his students, or the bureaucracy at the school. Once he stepped out of the shower, he couldn't say this, he couldn't do that. He must teach for this, he couldn't teach that way. If he said one thing, the students would mention it to his parents. If he didn't say another thing, the parents would also hear about it. His words were carefully crafted day-in and day-out to push his students and encourage them to grow, while at the same time not pushing anyone too far to make them upset. It was a delicate and difficult balance.\nAnd he didn't worry about it right now. \n\"I USE TO THINK MAYBE YOU LOVED ME! BUT I KNOW THAT IT'S TRUUUUUE!!!\" he bellowed as he finished his shower. He pulled his towel from around the shower curtain, wrapped it around his big belly, and pulled open the shower. \n\"AND DON'T IT FEEL GOOD!!!\" \nHe stepped down, and saw his cat Chaz sitting across the room. Chaz always sat across the bathroom while he showed.\n\"Meow!\" Chaz exclaimed. \nLamont smiled. \"That's right, Chaz! Break it down for me!\"\n\"Meow!\" Chaz replied, getting up from his sitting position. Chaz knew breakfast was coming soon, and he was hungry.\n\"Meow!\" Lamont replied back. \"I feel alive! I feel the love! I feel the love that's really real.\" Lamont boogied to the music in his head over to Chaz. \"Join with me, Chaz!\"\n\"Meow!\" Chaz replied\n\"Meow!\" Lamont shot back, keeping with the rhythm of the song. \n\"Meow!\" \"Meow!\" \"Meow!\" \nLamont and Charlie meowed back and forth as the head music was building. Lamont's smile grew, as he felt it went right with the song. Chaz and Lamonts meowing blurred with the music, and he got lost in it.\n\"And don't it feel good meow don't it meow good meow don'meow meow good.\" \nHe boogied and danced across the apartment as he dried himself, the classic hit of Katrin & The Waves finished. His body and mind felt full of joy and energy for the new day. Chaz looked expectantly at Lamont, knowing that once Lamont was fully dressed, breakfast woudl come. As Lamont tossed the towel across the room, he pulled up a new pair of boxers, and slipped on a new song.\n\"Heeeeeeeey! Heeeeeeeeeeey! What's the matter with your head, baaaaaaaaaaabe?\"\nLamont got dressed, singing the whole way. He hopped into his pants on beat with the music. He shook his body to the whole song, pretending his was putting on a show for his cat. After using his belt as a mic, he slipped it around his waist like he was running a dance move. The belt mic was quickly replaced with his shoe.\n\"COME AND GET YOUR LOVE! COME AND GET YOUR LOVE!\"\nHe swam through the music over to the cat bowl. \"Meooooooooowwww!\" he proclaimed, trying to find Chaz for his breakfast serving. \"MeeeeeEEOOOWW\" he roared to the music \"come and get your breakfast! come and get your breakfast.\" He jammed --rather unsuccessfully- both syllables of \"breakfast\" into one to fit with the song.\n\"Meeeeeeeeeeeeooooooooow! MEEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOW! What's the matter with your mind? \" \n\"Meow\" Chaz replied as Lamont poured the dry food into his bowl. Lamont felt so alive and ready for the day with his morning routine. \nAs Chaz eagerly ate his breakfast, Lamont heard the meow from across the apartment. It sound real, like a small beg at the front door. \nLamont, joyful from his morning routine, jogged over to the door. \"Meowwwwww.\" he said, still playing the song in his head. \n\"Meow\" came the cat on the other side. \nLamont grinned so much his cheeks hurt. There was a stray cat on the other side of the door! And a friendly one at that! Lamont danced, putting on a show for Chaz. He felt a ray of hope with this new cat. Chaz was lonely all day by himself. If this new cat was curious and kind, Chaz could have a new friend to play with during the day. \n\"Meeeooow?\" Lamont asked. He didn't want to open the door to a hostile cat, but if he could keep the cat by the door with his meows, he bet this strange cat would be friendly enough to stay with Chaz during the school day.\nThere was a pause. Lamont stopped his dance move. One foot rested on his toes,the other straight and strong from the ground up to his back. He felt like Michael Jackson, back when MJ could *dance*. Lamont felt so hopeful for this new cat, and he didn't want to miss a meow for dancing. As he waited in anticipation, Lamont could feel the energy and joy of the shower slowly fading from his body. Soon, the responsibilities of teaching wouldn't allow him to dance and sing with his cat. Soon, he would have to put on his Adult Face for the children.\n\"Meow\" Lamont heard from the other side of the door. Lamont grinned. He grinned like a child who figured out what his Christmas gift under the tree was. His grin was full of possibilities for the future. Oh, the things that would happen with TWO cats in his apartment! Another cat to sing to! And this one would sing BACK at him! He couldn't wait! He grabbed to the door knob, turned it quickly, and swung the door open to meet his new friend.\nOnly to find his neighbor standing at the door. Both grown men starred at each other, their embarrassment locking their eyes and bodies in place. A wave of embarrassment and disappointed washed over Lamont as he realized what they had both been doing. There was no cat on either side of the door.\n\nBut, perhaps, a new friend.",
"My neighbor’s cat was a menace. A no good, loud, bratty menace. It tended to sit on my back patio and yell at me until I gave it something. Anything.\n\nFood. \nWater. \nPieces of ribbon. \n\nThe only way to get the greedy bastard to shut up was to slide an offering out the window. The faster, the better, because Grumpy, as I liked to call the cat, was loud. So freaking loud.\n\nOne Saturday morning, while I was recovering from a particularly nasty hangover, Grumpy decided to make an appearance. Each plea for treasure growing in volume. I knew the only way to make the evil noises stop was to appease the beast. I grabbed a bit of bacon from my kitchen counter and ripped open the window. However, without making the conscious decision to do so, instead of just tossing out the bacon, I shouted out the rudest “meow” I could muster. \n\nNow, I didn’t think cats could raise their eyebrows, but I swear this one did. It raised its brow at me in complete silence for about 10 seconds. Then Grumpy meowed again, a satisfied meow, before snatching up its bacon and disappearing from the window. \n\nI spent the rest of the day researching psychotic breaks. \n\nFor some reason, the damned thing got a kick out of me “meowing” at it. After that day, I had to give the brat a little gift AND meow at it, if I wanted it to go away. It wanted a meal and good conversation. \n\nGrumpy’s visits to my patio became more and more frequent. The darn thing came around almost every day. It even started sneaking in when I left the window open. At first, I would scoop Grumpy up and deposited it back outside, but eventually, I gave up. If Grumpy wanted in, Grumpy was getting in. It liked to watch tv with me at night. Or, sometimes, Grumpy lounged on my lap as I worked on my laptop during the day. I don’t know when my opinion of the cat changed, but at some unknown point in time, I started to look forward to the visits. I started leaving the window open. I even bought a few cat toys and a small bed for Grumpy. \n\nI wondered what my neighbors thought of their cat sneaking out nearly every day. One night when I passed them in the hall, I tried making a joke that their cat liked me more than it liked them, but they just gave me a confused look and disappeared into their apartment.\n\nThen one morning I was making an omelet when I heard a familiar “meow.” However, the sound was coming from my apartment door, not my window. That was strange. Grumpy always came in through the window. \n\nWithout hesitation I meowed back, walking toward the door to let Grumpy in. However, as soon as I opened it, I stopped short. Standing in the doorway was a dark-haired girl. She was very naked and very human. \n\n“Hey there,” she said pushing her way into my apartment. \n\n“Um, excuse me,” I started. I tried to block the nude stranger, but she was very quick and ducked under my arm and straight into the apartment. \n\n“What’s for breakfast today?” The girl asked. She picked a long shirt out of the laundry basket sitting next to my couch and shrugged it on. \n\n“I’m sorry, but you can’t just walk into my apartment!” I shouted, equal parts angry and confused. “Who do you think you are?” \nThe woman in front of me didn’t say anything. Instead, she raised her eyebrow and plopped down on my couch. Recognition flashed through me. I took her in again. Her hair was that familiar chocolate brown, and her pupils split her bright green eyes.\n\n“Grumpy?” I asked, my voice no louder than a whisper. \n\n“Well, my names Alissa,” she said, with a large smile. “And I am not that grumpy.” \nI was quiet for a few seconds, my brain trying to catch up with what she just said. \n\n“So,” I said when I regained the ability to speak. “I’m guessing you aren’t my neighbor’s cat?”",
"\"*Oh,*\" the man gasped, as I swung open the door. His eyes widened. He turned, and bolted down the hallway with the footspeed of an actual feline. How weirdly appropriate - because I'd just interrupted him mid-yowl, as though he were a tomcat in heat, inviting me into the hallway to mate. Ugh.\n\nHe'd left something behind on the ground, which had clattered to the floor the second I'd surprised him. It was, I now realized, an old-school miniature tape recorder. It had a tiny cassette loaded within it, and a slight whirring noise let me know it was still running. I picked it up, stared at the buttons perplexedly for a minute, and finally located the \"stop\" button, which clicked with a satisfying mechanical sound.\n\nWho on earth would use something like this, in the digital age? I'd actually never seen one of these things before, and, while I knew I should just walk down the hallway and give it back to him, I realized I didn't know where this dude lived. Every day at around noon, when the building was deserted, this guy - whom I'd thought was an actual animal - would roam the halls. Every day, he would yowl loudly, and would be greeted by a cacophony of other meows, barks, and chirps from the neighbouring apartments. I don't know what prompted me to give that first \"meow\" in return. I guessed I was fucking with that animal's roll call just for kicks. Today I'd had enough of it, and had decided to interrupt the prowler, trying to see if the cat had an owner's tag on it. Animals weren't allowed to roam freely in the building, according to the rules. What if this cat got let outside by mistake during one of its patrols? I'd try to figure out a way to do this diplomatically, because I didn't want to be *that* asshole, but come on.\n\nI stared at the recording device. So this weirdo had been wandering the halls, taping what he heard in the building. Which must have been the sounds made by other, real animals, presumably. I couldn't help it. I had to listen to whatever else was on there. Where was the rewind button? I found it, and heard the tape whir in reverse, then stop. I pressed play, and waited to hear what the deal was. \n\n\"March tenth, two thousand and eighteen,\" a faint voice intoned. The quality was horrible. It sounded like he had recorded himself speaking from the bottom of a well. The stairwell, I gathered: it was ridiculously resonant, and the recording crackled with background noise. \"The documentary of the secret life of the animals who live on 802 West Cambie street, every floor.\"\n\nThere was the sound of footsteps. Then that familiar meow. A boisterous barking returned his greeting. \"Saint Bernard,\" he noted in his recorder, very softly, because his breath hissed against the speaker. \"One hundred and ten pounds; male. I have noted him coming and going from the park daily at eight-o-clock in the morning, and again at seven p.m. after the owners have taken dinner. Very friendly. Does not lick, but does drool. Obeys commands well.\" \n\nThe sound of feet, shuffling, then stairs being climbed. \"Tabby cat,\" he intoned, after meowing again. \"Orange in colour. Housebound. Enjoys sleeping in the window: can be seen from the ground floor napping at hours eight through twelve, and twelve through six. Enjoys climbing on cat furniture.\"\n\nI don't know why, but I was transfixed. It amounted to a documentary of every single nonhuman creature in the building. Some, he couldn't locate through his meowing technique, but resorted to other means. \"A chameleon, in this apartment,\" he noted. \"Spotted at five p.m. in the courtyard when owner, girl approximately aged twelve, put him on her shoulder and walked him to the window. *magnificent creature.*\"\n\n\"Python,\" he muttered, on another occasion. \"Fed mice. Illegal pet. But an enchanting animal. Terrarium spotted through open window, open for just half an hour, on day four hundred and three of observations. Approximately five years old and eighty pounds. A superlative find.\" \n\n\"Cat,\" he was muttering, near the end of the tape. \"But a strange cat. Female. Older- for a cat- in its...late twenties? No, that cannot be right. Oh. I see,\" he said, in a soft voice, after yowling again, very loudly. I heard my own ridiculous imitation of a meow distantly through the recorder. \"Not a cat at all. No. *Human.*\"\n\nThen the door swinging open, a gasp, the crashing noise of the recorder falling to the ground, and footsteps echoing down the hall. The tape clicked off, and there was silence. \n\nThis was weird, I knew. This guy had to be one of the weirdest people I had ever heard of. And I'd just listened to the contents of what I assumed must be his private thought life. Did this person have any sort of gainful employment? Was his whole gig to wander his own apartment building making recordings of the pets there? At the same time, I was, oddly, disappointed that there wasn't *more* to this weird mixtape documentary. I'd never thought to consider the lives of the animals in the apartment building where I lived. Yes, I'd met my share of chocolate labs and stared at fluffy tuxedo cats lounging on windowsills, but I felt like, through this bizarre exercise, I'd learned about an aspect of the building I'd never really considered in any depth, and would never think about the same way again.\n\nI put the recorder on the kitchen counter, and contemplated what I should do. A public note on the bulletin board saying \"lost recorder found - call this number to retrieve it\" seemed too impersonal. Trying to find out who he was from neighbours seemed a bit too prying. There had to be a simpler way, right? I grabbed a pen and paper, wrote a letter, stuck it in an envelope, and taped it to the front of my own door, addressed to one \"Apartment Building Animal Investigative Reporter,\" with a plea, as the subtitle: \"please read,\" it said. \n\n*Dear Neighbour,* it read. *I very much enjoyed your nature documentary of the animals in the building. It was really entertaining and I learned a lot. I'm sorry I interrupted you and that I messed with you by meowing at you. To apologize, I'd like to give you my box set of Planet Earth DVDs, because I have it digitally. It's yours if you want it. Just knock on the door.*\n\nI'd agonized over the words, because I didn't want to give him the wrong idea. And the letter had stayed up there for an entire week. But I noticed that it had been ever-so-carefully opened, from the frayed edges of the envelope fold, and tucked back into place, so maybe he- or another nosy neighbour- had read it. Maybe he was still deciding what to do about it.\n\nFinally, seven days later, there was a knock at the door. I answered: A cat was standing there, a note tied to its collar, folded into a tiny square. How had he disappeared so fast? I wondered. How had he *trained* a cat to stay in one place? But this cat did; it purred at me, and nudged my legs, until I petted it, and stayed near me as I unwrapped the note.\n\n \"Dear Human,\" It read. \"My owner does not interact with people very well. Thank you for your kindness. He would love the DVDs. If you will leave them, and the tape recorder, outside of Apartment 604, he would be much obliged.\"\n\nI piled the offerings in front of his apartment door, and knocked, as the friendly cat frisked around my legs. I don't know what I expected, but I felt a twinge of sadness that he didn't open the door, even though I stood there for quite a long time. \n\nr/eros_bittersweet",
"\"Oh,\" I said stupidly.\n\nWe both turned beet red, two grown men, staring at each other after having done something incredibly immature... Yep. That happened.\n\n\"So uh...\" I spoke haltingly, \"you're, uh. You're really great at making cat noises, man.\"\n\nWhen he didn't say anything, I immediately shut he door for a few seconds, then realized how rude that was, and opened the door again. \"Sorry, that was rude. I'm sorry I pretended to be a cat.\" Another long stretch of awkward silence ensued. \"Welp. Have a nice day.\" I quickly closed the door, and hung my head in shame. Yup. I can never talk to him again. Time to go to work.\n\nEDIT: Comma, and letter misplacement corrections."
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[WP] As a struggling villian, you try every horrendous crime in the book, but somehow, a positive result always comes from your actions. Today marks the day Humanity makes a holiday for you in appreciation and invites you to a public conference. Now's your final chance. | 16 | [
"**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 frowned deeply. I will succeed. I would not fail. \"You can do this.\" I told my reflection. Or my reflection told me. Whatever. \"Today is the day. Today, you will NOT FAIL!\" I shouted at myself. Yes, that the one. Either way I was shouting at myself. Excellent. Now that that's out of the way. \"You are going to go out there, announce you are a villain, and hold the world's elite for ransom. There are eight snipers positioned at each of the upper floor balconies, and some muscle on the floor among the crowd. There is no way for this to go wrong. One way or another, you can finally gain the infamy you justly deserve.\"\n\nMy mind flashed to the time the bomb for that orphanage had destroyed the building, but allowed them to collect the insurance to build a newer, better facility. That had only been the start. I tried to shake the memory away, but another took it's place. The poison I had dumped into the water supply. That had backfired as well. What were the chances there was already another poison in the water system, that my poison neutralized and save the entire bleeding city. Memory after memory rapidly flashed through my mind. No. No. No, no, no. This wouldn't be like last time. This wouldn't be like any of those times, or the bank robbery. The bank robbery. I shuddered, it still gave me night terrors.\n\nA deep breath filled my lungs, and I huffed. Today, it would work. I would be the only villain in history to have been a super hero, only to become the most despised villain. I would be the only villain who had fooled and entire city into idolizing him. Yes.\n\nFor my wardrobe I had selected the perfect cape. Outer black with a blood red inside. Another deep breath for good luck, and I pushed my way through the door. A cheer rose up from the crowd. Clapping filled the hall. All of those rich ladies with diamonds dangling from their throats, all those men with gold plated watches. World leaders and dignitaries. All of them would know my name, and spread word of my misdeeds. I would be rich, and respected. Feared. Who else would dare to hold the world's leaders hostage? No one. That's who. I mean. ME. I would. I am. Yeah. That's it, I am.\n\nI made my way to the stage, as the mayor introduced me, \"And now ladies and gentlemen. The man who needs no introduction, the man whom we are here to celebrate. Today, we will declare on live global television the man who invented a way to purify water for Africa, the man who released a genetically modified plant that single\\-handedly cured world hunger, the man, who cured cancer, by altering the medical supplies at every factory in the world on the same day, a hero!\" Another roaring cheer shook the hall. I clenched my teeth. \"We welcome our hero, and mark this day 'World Destroymus Day!\"\n\nI cringed. Didn't they realize it was a super\\-villains name? Damn it, and their idiocy.\n\nI had stopped next to podium. Announce it loud and proud. You can do this.\n\n\"Without further adieu, Your HERO!\"\n\nHe moved out of the way and flamboyantly ushered me to take the stand. I swallowed. \"I am here to announce, I am a\\-\" A loud boom sounded as sparkly fireworks went off behind me. Someone must have misfired them. Damn it. \"A VILLAIN!\" I tried to shout over the sound of the the fireworks.\n\nNo one heard me, but every one was looking at me, silhouetted by flaming special effects. Truly looking the part of the hero. When the overwhelming sound of the deafening celebration ended, I signaled them. They took up their positions, and turned their laser sights on. \"I am a villain!\" I shouted into the silence. \"This is a stick up!\" Funny looks answered my declaration. I laughed manically. Yes, yes, YES! Everything was going to plan. \"Please hand your wallets and jewelry to the men in black, and no one gets hurt.\"\n\nMy minions made short work of the valuable, efficiently collecting everything, and backhanding everyone who protested. Everything sat in a pile next to me on the stage. Pride filled my breast. Today was the day. I'd done it. I had done the impossible. \n\nOne of my men leaned over whispering into my ear, \"Sir, all the jewelry has some sort of explosive attached to it.\"\n\n\"What?\" I demanded. No, not again, this had to be a success. The rear doors slammed open, and a man holding a private security personal before him strode in, with goons in tow. Gun fire sounded, and the personnel before him fell to the ground in a bloody mess.\n\n\"OOPS!\" the villain shouted, his voice carrying around the room. \"Here we are!\" The camera's turned to him. \"If you will check your possessions, you will find explosives. Please, no rapid movements, or my trigger finger may slip.\" He held his hand up, clenching something.\n\n\"Take him out!\" I screamed. \"He'll ruin everything!\"\n\n\"This is a dead man's switch,\" he declared, before a bullet took him through the skull. A look of pure surprise crossed his face, as he sunk to his knees, dropped the switch, and utterly collapsed.\n\nA roaring explosion knocked me from the podium, flinging me through the air to slam against a wall.\n\n\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\n\nI woke up later in the hospital, my team had taken out the intruders, the intruders who had been planning to hold the world leaders hostage. In the end my holiday grew to become a story of how I had sacrificed myself to save them all, and the celebration would be three day instead of one. I failed. Damn it."
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[WP] You realize you can scroll up on reddit allowing you to scroll into the future and see posts not yet submitted. You see a post 8 hours ahead confirming the end of the world 24 hours from now. What do you do with this information? | 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",
"Casually I scrolled through Reddit while watching the tv. I looked down at my phone knowing I had randomly been scrolling. I saw a post on r/news that said “Confirmed the world will end in 24 hours!” In terror I looked at how long ago it had been posted so I could calculate how long I had left.\n\nIt had been posted 8 hours ago... no that’s not what it says. It said 8 hours until. Next to the comments, upvotes and downvotes it had a N/A instead of a number. I panicked and collected many of my possessions and called members of family. I sat down on the couch with my dog, Scrappy sitting on my lap.\n\nAlmost 8 hours had passed since I saw the post. It was then decided to make a post to r/news..."
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1,
1
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"1525767261",
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[WP] You were a professional gamer when you were young. 40 years later, you were recalling your past when a notification popped up: "Reload latest save?" | 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",
"It had been a week since the funeral. A simple ceremony, nothing fancy, just the way his mother would have wanted. However, even though the service had gone by and the body of his last living relative was peacefully resting underground, John knew that the current chapter in his life was far from closing.\n\nHe had been postponing this for a week, drowning his sorrow in cheap whiskey, but he knew he couldn’t delay it for much longer. And that was why, that sunny morning, John had driven all the way from his apartment in the city, down to the country side to his childhood home.\n\nAs he stepped out of the car and his foot settled into the dirt driveway of the old house where he had grown up, the scent of the spring filled his nostrils bringing back happy childhood memories. He stopped for a moment, trying not to get overcome by them.\n\nEven though he lived three hours away, John had rarely visited. He had a good job in the city’s financial district that kept him busy during most of the hours of the day and during most of the weekends. Maybe he should have come more often. Sighing, he walked towards the house and to the small porch that sheltered the front door.\n\nThe wood creaked under his feet, as he climbed the three small steps, and finally the old door opened to reveal the living room that he knew so well. It was empty. And if felt empty. Not it the way it would feel as if someone had just ran down to the grocers and was about to come back, but rather as if it had been abandoned. It felt almost as if the house knew that their sole inhabitant was gone, never to return again.\n\nPlacing his jacket over the back of the couch, John stood in the middle of the living room, taking in what had once been a household bursting with life. There was no way of dealing with it and he knew it. But he had to start somewhere. If he wanted to sell the place, he needed to sort his late mother’s belongings and clean the house as best as he could. There was no other way.\n\nAs he walked around the house, his steps led him to his old bedroom. He hadn’t been there in ages. A thin layer of dust had gathered on top of most of his personal belongings. Walking across the room he opened his window to allow some light and fresh air in. When something caught his eye.\n\nSitting on the smooth wooden surface of his chest of drawers was something he hadn’t seen in a long time. So long that he had almost forgotten that part of his past. It was an old and battered VR set. The goggles sitting neatly on a pair of gloves. Dusting them with his hand, John smiled. He doubted the system even worked.\n\nPutting the gloves on first, he carefully placed the goggles around his head. For a moment, all he could see was dark. And then, with a small movement of his fingers, the screen sprung to life. A single sentence floated in the space around him. A simple question that bore the weight of a lifetime.\n\n“Reload latest save?”\n\nJohn stood, frozen in place, as memories came back at him — his past as a professional gamer, the joy, money and somewhat fame that it had brought him, and eventually, how it all had came crashing down. It had been a hard blow, finished by his parents when they had found the family’s pick up truck crashed into a tree and their only son’s life hanging by a thread. All because he had gone in so deep that he didn’t seem to cope with living normal life without looking at it through a pair of VR goggles.\n\nJohn had never seen his game system again. Until now.\n\nIt had been so many years… his life had changed in so many ways… certainly just one last game wouldn’t be harmful… right?\n\nPressing his fingers together, his bedroom was suddenly transformed into an old city. Pollution covered the air, making his vision blurry, and ugly rusty buildings towered in the distance. He was breathing through a mask and in his hands he carried a machine gun. John was no longer certain of what he should do with it. He had a faint memory of a military base hidden somewhere but he didn’t feel like walking around in this uninviting pos-apocalyptic wasteland to complete the mission. For the first time in years, he felt old.\n\nTurning the game off and lifting the goggles from his eyes, John sat at the feet of his bed. For the first time, he saw how much he had changed. How much of his life had been wasted in a fictional world instead of spending time with the two people that had given him love. The same two people to whom he had turned his back when they didn’t allow him to game anymore. He remembered the fights… his mother’s tear covered eyes and his father’s look of disappointment. John had taken the truck and moved to the city, selling it for a small apartment in a shady part of town. Eventually he had gotten a job at a small company and worked his way to the top. His life had changed to the better, little by little, but he had never really visited his parents that much anymore. His father passed away a few years after he left, leaving his mother alone. And now, even her was gone. Both of them, gone forever.\n\nAs he drove back to the city at sunset, the back seat and trunk of his car full with the few things he had thought would be worth keeping, John couldn’t help but stare in awe at the shades of orange that covered the sky. There had been a long time since he had looked up and noticed how beautiful the nature around him really was. He sighed and smiled softly. He could see now how he had lost time and opportunities with people that loved him, but he would not let that happen again. It was finally time for him to make a life of his own."
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"1525790483",
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[WP] You just got a new job in a high tech health insurance company. You received great benefits and a personalized actuarial life table using the companies AI software. Later you begin to notice that the predictions by the AI of the date, time, and manner of death are much too accurate. | 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",
"\"Of course, please take care\",\n\n~~Stevenson, Kenneth~~,\n\nAs Sam hung up the phone and scratched off the latest name he had highlighted on his list, a sharp sense of nervousness started to rise from his gut and up his chest. *That makes it 10 in a row* he thought to himself. Sam had gone through his latest claims report and picked out 10 cases with particularly unique circumstances. As a 20 year vet of the dreary and depressing world of life insurance he has seen many unlikely causes of death. Sometimes they’re tragic, Julia for instance, a 26 year old who succumbed to rapid early onset Parkinson’s, one of only 5 known cases in history. Other times they’re less tragic, like Stan, a 21 year old man who ran away from his remand home and died of a cocaine induced heart attack in a strip club. As odd as they seemed, these unique deaths from his past experience all had something in common and that was that no one, no report would have ever been able to predict them. At least that’s what he used to think.\n\nAn actuarial life table, or ALT as it was more commonly called, is a report that that shows the probability of a person at a certain age dying before his or her next birthday. They have been a staple in the insurance game since its inception and as machine learning has improved, these reports have become more case specific. Sam gets one every month and traditionally, it’s been about 60% accurate which might seem low, but understand that unexpected death is rather expected in his world. Since Sam started at LifeGuard however, he has seen these reports jump to a staggering 80% accuracy with his latest claims sheet corresponding line by line with what the ALT predicted.\n\n“Dude, come here” Sam quipped urgently without lifting his head. The only other person in the room was Sam’s co\\-worker Flynn, together they cover all LifeGuard claims in the North West. “Yes Sam, it’s AI, it’s pretty fucking good at what it does”, Flynn responded without much of a thought. Sam has been pestering Flynn with his suspicions about how an early beta AI could so accurately predict the deaths of people based only on simple questionnaires and medical histories that have been available to insurance companies for decades. “Flynn, I’m serious, look at this” Sam reiterated. Flynn reluctantly rolled his chair over to Sam. “I’ve noticed something” Sam said with that snarky tone you hear when someone is about to tell you *I told you so.* “This is the latest ALT, as usual it’s pretty much spot on. It even managed to predict THREE teenage deaths” Sam emphasized. Predicting a teenage death was unheard of even under a year ago. “Okay, that is a bit strange I’ll admit, but so what? What did you notice?” Flynn asked with an obvious curiosity. “Well I started digging into these 10 cases and every single one of them had extensive online profiles. I’m not just talking social media accounts, I mean they were full on attention whores” Sam answered as he rolled over to his white board. Having most of your life posted on the internet was nothing new these days, there is only a handful of people left alive who had seen a world before the advent of Facebook. Sam flipped over the board, “So I made a list. I made a list of their online posts, tweets and searches during the week leading up to the day this ALT was publishe\\-“ “wait how did you get that information?” Flynn interrupted. “Shut up. That’s not important right now” Sam shot back. “This list was extensive and at first I didn’t see any pattern, but then I stepped back and I saw it. Flynn. I saw it and I don’t know what to do.” Sam said with that nervous feeling perturbing his voice. “K, you’re scaring me, what did you see?” Flynn asked. Sam looked around suspiciously before continuing….\n\n\\(first try ever. don't be afraid to tell me I suck. I need to get back to work!\\)"
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1,
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"1525795219",
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[WP] As a joke, you and your friends try to cast spells and conduct rituals from different religions and fantasy worlds. It was all casual fun, until one of the spells worked. | 32 | [
"**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",
"Three teenagers sat in a dim basement. The bare light bulb above them flickered on and off at odd intervals. The fire detector hung from the ceiling, it's wires exposed and the batteries pulled out. They were surrounded by all manner of strange paraphernalia such as candles, symbols, and tomes. \n\n\nJae-sun, the ringleader of the bunch, was scrolling through a website on his laptop. He adjusted his glasses and asked his friends, \"Alright so what do you guys want to try next?\"\n\n\nFelix shrugged and took a sip of his Dr. Pepper. He pushed his chair backwards and leaned on the hind two legs. \"Well, Bloody Mary was a bust and the only thing that the summoning ritual accomplished was setting off your fire alarm. I dunno man, want to just call it quits and get some beer from the Korean supermarket?\"\n\n\nMina chewed on what remained of her thumb nail. \"C'mon Felix, we just started half an hour ago. Let's mix it up! Try some rituals from books or shows.\"\n\n\n\"Great idea. Let's do shadow baby from Game of Thrones. I'm a willing and able volunteer.\" Felix chuckled and took another sip of his soda.\n\n\nMina rolled her eyes at Felix. \"Gross.\"\n\n\nJae-sun punched Felix in the shoulder. Felix flinched. \"Ow! What the hell man.\"\n\n\n\"Knock it off. That's my sister you perv.\"\n\n\n\"Jeez, you guys can't take a joke. Fine fine, I'm sorry.\" Felix raised his hands defensively.\n\n\nMina shrugged. \"Whatever. Let's try transmutation next!\"\n\n\nJae-sun grinned. \"Yeah, yeah that's a good one! We have the chalk upstairs. What did they use in the show for human transmutation again?\"\n\n\n\"Water 35 liters, salt 250 grams, saltpeter 100 grams, sulfur 80 grams, fluorine 7.5 grams, iron 5 grams, and ummmm.... Silicon 3 grams.\" Mina spouted off the ingredients.\n\n\nFelix stared at her, incredulous. \"You seriously memorized the whole scene?\" \n\n\nMina's face turned a light pink. \"Yeah, so what?\"\n\n\nFelix smiled. \"Nothing, that's really cool.\"\n\n\n\"Thanks.\"\n\n\n\"Well, the ingredients aren't actually right to begin with. If I recall correctly, the real list of ingredients should be oxygen, carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen, calcium, phosphorous, potassium, sulfur, sodium, chlorine, and magnesium.\" Jae-sun corrected his little sister.\n\n\n\"Jae, you've got too much time on your hands bro.\" \n\n\n\"MatPat did a video about it on youtube. Dad should have those things in his lab upstairs. Come on let's do it!\"\n\n\nThe three teens gathered the ingredients and poured them into a small metal basin. Mina carefully drew the transmutation circle with white chalk.\n\n\n\"So, what, or who, will we be transmuting today?\" Jae-sun asked. \n\n\nAll three were quiet for a moment. Then, Felix spoke. \"I mean... there's no way it'll actually work. But my younger brother... He would've loved this kind of thing. So for shits and giggles, let's 'transmute' Vincent.\"\n\n\nJae-sun and Mina hugged Felix. \"I'm sorry.\"\n\n\nFelix wiped his cheek and pushed the two away. \"No need to say sorry. Happened ages ago. So we doing this or what?\"\n\n\nMina looked a little uncomfortable. \"Yeah, we'll need a little bit of shared DNA.\"\n\n\nFelix pricked his finger and let a little bit of blood drop into the basin. \"There. Let's do this!\"\n\n\nJae-sun, Mina, and Felix sat at different ends of the circle. They placed their hands on the circle.\n\n\nNothing happened. Felix laughed a little too loudly. \"Told you nothing would happen.\"\n\n\nThen, light poured forth from the circle. Small electrical currents arced out from the lines.\n\n\nMina shook. \"That's not funny hyung, stop messing with the lights.\"\n\n\nJae-sun stood up and tripped, falling backwards. \"That's not me! I didn't do anything!\"\n\n\nJae-sun, Felix, and Mina all shared a collective look of terror. They knew what was coming next. They had to get out, now.\n\n\nShadowy hands begin to rise from the floor as a lidless eye opened in the center of the circle.\n\n\nMina and Jae-sun scrambled to get to their feet. The hands reached out and latched onto parts of their body. They screamed in anguish as their bodies were broken down bit by bit. \n\n\nFelix could only watch in terror as the hands ripped apart his friends. He was vaguely aware that his leg was being torn from him.\n\n\nIn moments, brother and sister had completely disintegrated. Only Felix remained, bleeding from his amputated leg. Some... thing, had appeared where the basin had been.\n\nIt was a writhing mass of bones and organs where they shouldn't have been. It wheezed in and out, taking painful labored breaths. \"Bro... ther. Bro... ther.\"\n\n\n"
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"1525800619",
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[removed] | [WP] A Political Prequel | 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). You wrote a prompt in the text, but then gave a title for it. \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/8i0pp8/wp_a_political_prequel/%0A%0A)\n\n*This action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things.*",
"Hi there, this post has been removed.\n\nThis prompt violates Rule 7. Please avoid posting prompts relating to real world political drama as they have a high propensity for bearing rule breaking responses and discordant discourse.\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/8i0pp8/wp_a_political_prequel/%0A%0A)\n\n*This action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things.*"
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"1525816758",
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[WP] Every character is the Main Character (MC). MC ridiculous plot armor/power for everyone! | 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",
"\"It all began with that one test. The death count in World War III had been... suspiciously low. As a literature buff, the stories I began hearing became all too familiar... people getting out of inescapable situations due to some ex-machina, soulmates inexplicably finding each other on the battlefield... Hell, there was even a time where a group of rag-tag heros teamed up to stop a madman from turning the USA into a parking lot. It all seemed too perfect. So, to prove my hypothesis, I enlisted.\"\n\n\"It was the battle of Moscow. Lasers were being fired from both sides into the opposition's trenches, though they never actually hit anyone, seeming to be there to add to the tension. Same deal with mortars and airstrikes... any lame way for someone to go, nobody went that way. They told me that the reason nobody died from sickness was because of the advanced antibiotics they gave us, but I highly doubt they were that effective.Anyway, I remember shooting some enemy scout point blank with a magnum, hollow point and everything, before the ground in front of me erupted from mortar fire. Looking up, I saw who I assume was the man's best friend standing in front of him. He slowly looked down at the bullet wound, then back up at me, blood dripping. Stumbling, he clutched his friend as he fell, being held in his arms.\"\n\n\"At this point, I wanted to test my theory, so, after pretending to run away in shame and fear, I hid behind some nearby rubble to fully see the aftermath. Interrupting the man I shot at's heartfelt speech, the friend winked and said \"Hey...hey. You of all people would know I wouldn't die that easy.\" He unbuttoned his uniform to reveal a fake blood pack over a bullet proof vest. I remember thinking, \"If I'm right... I need to figure out how far I can take this.\" So I waltz back over to the two Ruskies.\"\n\n\"The friend gets steadily back onto his feet and comes between me and the other man. \"If you want to hurt him\", said he, broken, battered, \"you'll have to go through me, you bastard.\" \n\n\"Hm? Oh yeah, I speak a lick of Russian. You didn't know?\"\n\n\"Anyway, I was beginning to think these two were going to end up as more than friends. Two fledgeling, gay, supportive lovers on the battlefield, one a lovable trickster... if anybody would be main characters, it would be these two. Therefore, they would have the most plot armor, right? That's what I was thinking. So I attempted to empty what was left of the gun into them... miraculously, it was jammed. So, seeing as they were pinned down to the far end of a trench, I took out my grenade and threw it at them.\"\n\n\"The man shielded his friend as it bounced on the ground before them. I covered my ears, waiting for the explosion, only to hear a loud \"NOOOOOOO!\" coming from above the trench. Suddenly this little guy, no bigger than 90 pounds, I swear, leaps into the trench and onto the grenade, shielding his comrades with his body. The blast, much to my annoyance, never came. Instead, after his heroic act, he looked up, then around. \"Guess it was a dud...\" he mused with a little laugh. The trickster and his friend helped him off the ground and embraced him. \"I'm sorry for underestimating you, Karl.\" said the scout. \"I swear, we WILL make room for you in our squad after this. I promise.\" Tears adorned the eyes of the Ruskies. Then, they turned those eyes towards me.\"\n\n\"Like I had said before, I'm a literature buff. So I knew that when three main characters get together, have their own seperate arcs, and develop their relationships, that it spells trouble for the antagonists. And boy, my gun-wielding grenade-throwing ass was looking mighty antagonistical back there, lemme tell you. Over the course of the drama, a stack of crates fell behind me, blocking me and the three ruskies into a tight trench rectangle. I guess they knew guns would be too unsatisfactory for them to work, so Karl and the trickster rushed me. Before I knew it, my arms were held down as the scout came before me with a large knife. He started going off on some tangent about friendship and the real cost of war or whatever. I was just shitting my pants and thinking what I could possibly do to get out of the situation.\"\n\n\"The villain rarely gets plot armor to the same level as the heros, especially after a good monologue (and believe me, scout was giving me a GOOD monologue.) But then, I remembered... the villain always has to have a satisfying end, right? All I would do is simply make my end so unsatisfactory that the universe would have no idea what to do. As soon as scout wiped a tear from his eye and raised his knife, I shouted... some things I wasn't proud of. Sexist shit, racist shit, you name it. I think I even said some shit about babies and... well, it wasn't good. But what's important is that it went against my character, liberal from upstate NY who was a feminist and volunteered at homeless shelters. Like I thought, they kind of just stood there shocked. Then, they kind of awkwardly sauntered off. I couldn't believe it! I had the recipe to become the most meta villain yet!\"\n\n\"And so I did, and here I am telling you about it now, Mr. Gard. I know you had a master-plan to assassinate me before I could blow the state of Wisconson sky high, but little did you expect me to start pleasuring myself right as you were about to pull the trigger. It completely messed you up, and you ran right into my trap on the way out. HA! Enjoy the trip to space, Mr. Gard. Enjoy... mwahahahahaha... HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAAA!\""
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3
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"1525834459",
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[WP] They say you're the average of your five closest friends. Turns out, all five of your closest friends are serial killers. | 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 suppose I always knew something crazy was going to happen in my life. It was just that big feeling, from as early as I can remember. It started as really large overtures of great things I would achieve. As I got older and my ego died little by little I was still certain something unbelievable would happen, but I was certain at this point that I would only be a spectator. \n \n\n I guess that's what's so interesting about all of this. Somehow, I've found myself a costar in the show when I didn't even know I had been casted.\nI've always been of the belief that every minute decision you make plays a part in getting you to where you are. I sometimes have found myself how many crashes I've avoided by snoozing my alarm *just one more time*.\n \n\n You'd think (or at least I did) that being so wrapped up in determinism that I would have built up my best possible life, and you'd be right. Now, I know what you're thinking: \"How can 10 years of murdering be your best life?\" The answer is complex but I'll try an make it simple. \n\n\n There are some things we just don't get to choose, our siblings being one. Now don't beat yourself up Mom and Dad. Lucas has always been my best friend. I've considered myself lucky to have such a great brother. People always talk about how identical twins have this special bond and while am sure they do what Lucas and I have is different. We used to exchange these looks whenever the two of you were lecturing us or putting us in time out. I used to think it was just mutual frustrations or something of the like. It was so relieving to find out he was like me a few years ago. It's a shame he had to die though. But that's not the point. The point is I didn't get to choose that. The universe was beginning to melt the wax that would seal my fate before I was even born.\n \n\n Then there was Travis. You remember him; lived 4 doors down had that really obnoxious Boston Terrier, on a quiet night you could hear is parents yelling over whose fault it was Travis was misbehaving in school. Lucas and I were always so excited to hang out with him because the littlest things would make him happy. The only time he ever seemed sad was when the streetlights would come on. You could see as that twinkle would fade from his eyes because he knew he had to go home to that nightmare. He used to tell me that one day he was going to make a difference in the world. He would bounce around ideas for an after school center for kids to come and enjoy themselves before having to go home. He so believed that everyone's home life was like his that he said it would even be open on Saturdays for extra time out in \"paradise\". \n \n\n I remember when we told him we were moving away seeing something different in his eyes. There was no fading of twinkles. His eyes were like dead wood. Something imitating life but strictly dead all the essence had been stripped from him.\n \n\n A few days ago I saw him on the news. He opened up that center about 5 years ago. It's a shame he was using it to hunt little boys to kill. The craziest thing to me is that they all look like him. They all have that same deadwood glare in every picture of them the station was showing. I know Travis mom and dad, he was doing this for the good of those kids. \n \n\n After the move I was furious at you guys. Besides Lucas, Travis was my closest friend. The three of us made a blood bond. We told him he was one of us now, and you made us leave him. So I rebelled. I know you had the best of intentions, that's why I'm so apologetic now about my behavior. \n \n\n I think it was a few months after the move that I met Sara, and Isaac. Now those two were a wild couple. They introduced us to the world of cocaine and booze. God just the thrill of our nights out knowing that if we got pulled over there was no hiding the stench of booze and the metric fuck ton of cocaine we had. My favorite thing about them was their ability to play the perfect Angels. And man.. Sara's legs were enough to drive anyone crazy. Sometimes when Isaac was passed out drunk she would let me and Lucas take turns with her. I actually think that sick bastard knew in retrospect because when he would \"wake up\" he always had this wild grin and he'd go up to Sara with her hair matted with sweat lying seductively on the couch and whisper something in her ear. Everytime that vixen would giggle, snap her gum between her teeth and her tongue, and say yeah daddy in that exact order. Then isaac would say \"Thanks for coming over boys I've got it from here\".\n \n\n That should have been weird enough for Lucas and I to keep us away. The truth is though being sixteen and hanging out with 21 year olds felt cool. They had their own place, a lot of spirits, and *a lot* of blow.\n \n\n I began to feel really weird around Isaac about a year later his behavior had changed. He was away a lot, and whenever he was home he was constantly jumping at the sirens on the TV. Anytime there was a knock on the door he hid and made Sara get it. I'm glad Lucas and I noticed the odd behavior because it really saved our asses.\n \n\n One night I was driving down Baker bluff road around age 17. If I were to say I was drunk enough to see double Lucas was drunk enough to see fifths (I know quints is correct but you know I love puns). I still don't know were the woman came from, all I remember was that limp thump when she hit the trunk after being launched into the air. Lucas was too drunk to be awoken so I got out and inspected the situation. I'd like to think sober me would have made a different decision but I was never sober then. There was blood coming out of this womans eyes and ears. I knew I had killed her, though she wasn't dead yet. I don't know why I did what I did but I just... I choked her. Through the gasping and the gurgling I could have sworn I heard a thank you.\n \n\n I didn't know what to do so I went back to Isaac and Sara's. Isaac patted me on the back and said something along the lines of \" welcome to the club,kid\" or \" I'm proud of you, boy\" as he nonchalantly took the body out of the trunk. The way the body fell limply to the ground after clattering all over the walls of the trunk as Isaac was doing all this made me feel dead inside. \n \n\n Isaac stood in the corner of the garage smoking a cigarette as he told me how to dismember the body. He kept offering me bumps of this \"pure columbian\" he had gotten earlier that evening. I couldn't do it though. I knew my life had to change. The thing I'm most grateful for was just how drunk Lucas was. He never came to. Even as Isaac and I drove into the woods behind the target to scatter remains he stayed asleep.\n \n\nEarly the next morning when we got home I swore to myself I would change my life. \n \n\n I did that mom and dad. You know. I straightened up my act. I got good grades. I graduated, went to Auburn. Met the love of my, my best friend for life, Brianna. Right after graduation we got married. Most days the sad reality of what I had done was a distant dream. \n \n\n I swear, it really seems like this is what the universe wanted for me. It was all around me. I wouldn't except it until 10 years ago. I was coming home from Albuquerque early from a business trip to surprise Brianna. I had some paranoid thoughts about catching her being unfaithful but I knew it couldn't be true. She was too faithful. \n \n\n Despite the fact that we had already been together for 6 years my heart would still race when I knew I was about to see her. It felt like it was going a million miles an hour as I opened up the front door. The home was pristine with the exception of blood going from the front door to the master bedroom. I began to panic as I thought of my love dying. I figured it was some cosmic karma at play. As I approached the door I saw bloody handprints mixed in with the body sized streak and realized she had tried to escape and was dragged back into the room to her death. When I walked in the room what I saw was straight out of a movie. My sweet Brianna had a man on a table and a scalpel in hand. The weirdest part about it was how instead of freaking out she handed me the scalpel and gave me a kiss and told me that I had awoken this in her. She didn't know this part of herself until our souls touched and she knew that this is what I wanted too. \n \n\nSome couples dance. Some couple binge Netflix. We kill. It seems like everyone around me has done the same. I don't know whether or not the people I chose to hang out with (or some that I didn't get the choice) influenced me or if there is just a part of a person's essence that calls out to kindred spirits. I can say this though, good bye mom and dad.\n\n You're reading this which means it's your turn \n\n\n\n\nThe end\n\n\n\nSo basically I'm a caveman and just typed this on here. Please forgive any typos etc; will edit soon. First time doing this so any advice is welcome just don't roast me too bad. Hah\n\n\n\n\n\n"
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1,
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"1525835718",
"1525841446"
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[WP] Work seemed normal today but by lunch, you noticed that your co-workers have been throwing quick glances and surreptitious nods your way but no one is talking to you. When you return from lunch a sticky note is on your monitor: "We're ready. We stand with you. Make Your move in the 3pm meeting" | 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",
"My entire day fleeted by like an ephemeral memory. \n\nI didn't usually feel like this, but I knew something was wrong. I could sense dozens of eyes on me. Glancing occasionally revealed to me that my co-workers kept eyeballing me the entire time. I wasn't sure what they were up to, but it wasn't like I could just ask them. \n\nLunch was the only break for me, and my mind knew. As soon as I sat at the rusty, abandoned table outside, my thoughts wandered aimlessly. I tried to think regular thoughts, but I kept drifting back to the eyes of my co-workers staring me down. I sat back down, my sandwich the only filling thing in my body. My mind was empty, the sounds of the world pouring into it and fill-\n\nWait a minute. \n\nI looked around and saw no one. The dread took over, my heartbeat thumping along to the drums only I could hear. I slowly walked over to my desk and saw it - a tiny Post-It note on my monitor:\n\n\"We are ready. We stand with you. Make your move in the meeting.\"\n\nThe dread and anxiousness were swept away by courage and happiness. It wasn't over though - I still had to go through the ordeal. I looked at the clock. 2:58 PM. It was time. I steeled myself and went into the conference room.\n\nThe door creaked as I pushed it open, the sound turning all the heads to my position. Everyone in the office was present, looking warily at me. My boss welcomed me and asked me to sit down. The lights had been dimmed slightly, giving the room an ominous feeling. I glanced down and knew what I had to do. \n\n\"I CAST A SPELL OF WEAKNESS ON THE HARBINGER.\"\n\nGasps filled the room. \n\n\"But we need to attack him!\"\n\nMy steel gaze penetrated all. \n\n\"If we lower his defense stat, he'll be weakened. I'll keep casting but you guys have to figure something out!\"\n\nOne by one we slashed and fireballed the Harbinger, a legendary boss we'd encountered only once in our longest campaign. He made quick work of us and ended our game, which lasted three weeks. We'd restarted our journey and encountered him again. \n\nOur DND campaign was finally able to move forward. "
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1,
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"1525866858",
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[WP] One day your computer crashes. When it starts back up you all of a sudden have the worlds first AI/ | 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 look at the screen of an old computer. It has no way to contact anything but my homemade connections to my home server. I'm getting annoyed, nearly a decade of my life I spent learning computers inside and out, and getting a degree and a job in computer security, and self-teaching myself about vintage computers as well. I'm checking and checking every line of code, and I see a virus of an impressive design, then I realize it is trying to speak to me via the text. Then I remember an old experiment I did with my friend, and we tried to make an AI. We were so ready for our thing, we even named it. I check the files, the thing worked. Bob was born, and now, it had my home server under control. I call my friend, and we prepare to tell the press. "
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1,
3
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"1525965918",
"1525995808"
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[WP] You've just been possessed by a demon. The problem is, everyone likes the demon more than they like you. | 61 | [
"**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 understand it, but that doesn't mean I like it.\"*\n\nJames put out the cigarette he'd been smoking all night, and gulped the last of his drink. He glanced down at his watch and shook his head slightly, it was late and he had somewhere to be. He paid the bartender, tipping him more than usual, a lot more than usual. \"You see, James.\" He muttered, \"I'm likable for a very simple reason.\" He began the walk to his meeting spot, loosely handling the umbrella in his hand.\n\n*\"And what reason is that?\"*\n\nJames chuckled and began to slow the pace he walked, \"I appeal to the base and very instinct want of every individual you've every known, they prefer me to you because I can *give* them what they want, you're too much of a bore and lack emotion to care about these sorts of things.\" The night began to darken as James approached an alleyway that was hidden from public view.\n\n*\"You clearly love giving to others based on your rambling.\"*\n\nJames only smirked, the body he possessed was a fine vessel indeed, but he wouldn't dare live the live it's owner lived. He had spent so many decades, waiting for this perfect chance to take control and establish a presence. \"James, as long as I possess this form. You won't be coming back anytime soon.\" A door opened, so close to the wall of the alley it seemed to appear out of thin air.\n\n\"Good night to you, boss. How's the body treating you?\"\n\nJames smiled and approached his old friend, \"Gabe, if I could describe it in words, I would. Where's the Chief? I need to speak to him immediately.\" Gabe showed James to the location of the chief, he made sure to tip Gabe for his service, entered the door, and gently closed it. \"Boss of Bosses, we need to have a little chat.\" The chief turned around in his chair, revealing ashen white hair, a face clear of facial hair, and eyes that could deceive both man and God. The chief was a man who rarely joked and took his work serious.\n\nThe exact opposite of James.\n\n\"Why do you insist on inhabiting the body of a mortal? You know that in this line of work, caution is a close friend of ours.\" James lit another cigarette, making sure the direction of the smoke made it's way over to Chief. \"Buddy, pal, I've figured out something that is sure to peak your interest. It's very important that you at least listen to what I have to say.\" Chief still held a straight face, but was inclined to listen. \"Proceed.\" He beckoned.\n\n\"Do you know why many possessions fail? It's because when another being tries to become something or someone else, he'll always fail. It's impossible to completely mimic someone without arousing suspicion of any kind. *But*, what if there was a way we could...sway the minds of those around the things we inhabit?\" Chief leaned forward in his chair, scratching at his temple for a while before deciding to know more. \"How do we mask ourselves and divert suspicion, since you seem to be a professional on the matter?\"\n\nJames leaned forward.\n\n*\"Don't you do this, Adam!*\"\n\n\"Why I'm afraid that's exactly what I'm going to do, the answer is simple, as I've said before. We appeal to the wants of everyone around us.\"\n\nThe chief smirked and leaned back, \"Continue.\"",
"\n\n\n*I said to be* nice *not creepy*.\n\n\n“Sorry, sorry,” Oliver mumbled to himself. “She just had a really nice smile, you know? I mean, after Jenny left me I never thought I’d meet another person who was just *right* for me. But then she walked in and -”\n\n\n*What is her name?*\n\n\n“Uh, well, that’s the thing. I didn’t actually manage to catch it. But really, what’s in a name?”\n\n\n*You cannot tell a woman you love her if you do not know her name.*\n\n\n“I’ll try and avoid being nice, then,” Oliver quipped. He felt the demon’s frustration, but it didn’t say anything. “Well, what do you want me to do?”\n\n\n*Just be* normal *for once. Okay? Try talking to the girl at the bar.*\n\n\n“Okay, okay,” Oliver smoothed his hair and sauntered over with his head up and shoulders squared like the demon had taught him. The blonde at the bar turned around, and her face fell when she saw him. “Oh god, no, no no,” Oliver turned on his heel and pushed through the crowd to the exit. \n\n\n*Where are you going? I told you already that you had to practice your whole ‘art of seduction’. For my plan of world domination to work, you will have to successfully distract the new CEO of-*\n\n\n“That’s Jenny,” Oliver hissed. He looked over his shoulder, but she had also disappeared into the crowd. “The love of my life. The one that got away. The Juliette to my Romeo.”\n\n\n*I get it. You like her.*\n\n\n“It’s more than that, god. She was my everything.”\n\n\n“Oliver?” He turned around. Jenny was smiling at him, now. Her hair was shorter than when they were together, cropped down to her shoulders. Her recognized the burgundy tank top she wore, it was one of her favourites. \n\n\n*Remember - nice, not creepy.*\n\n\n“It’s, uh, good to see you,” Oliver said and gave her a pained smile. \n\n\n“It’s been a minute, hasn’t it?”\n\n\nOliver opened his mouth, ready to remind her exactly why it had been over a year since they last spoke. \n\n\n*Do not bring up the past. Stay focused on the moment.*\n\n\n“Yeah,” he said, swallowing his contempt. \n\n\n*Compliment her - be genuine.* \n\n\n“I like your hair,” Oliver said, gesturing to the new shorter length. \n\n\nJenny looked ruefully at her blunt ends, “I think it’s too short.”\n\n\n“No, no, it’s really not. It frames your face,” he said, and briefly wondered where *that* sentence came from. Oliver didn’t know that was a thing haircuts could do. \n\n\n“Thanks,” she smiled at him. “You seem to be doing... better,” she offered. \n\n\nOliver chuckled. “I got a life coach, of sorts. Helped me get all turned around and back on my feet, you know? Motivate me to reach my goals.”\n\n\n*I have told you, though. My world domination comes first. We can work out where you fit in after.*\n\n\nOliver ignored the voice in his head and took a deep breath. “I know I was in a bit of a bad place before. But things have been looking up.”\n\n\nJenny smiled at Oliver and swirled the ice in her glass around with her straw. “You definitely look better. Wanna buy me another drink?”\n\n\nOliver stammered, “well, yeah, of course.” He followed her back to the bar, winding through the crowd. “And Jenny, I -”\n\n\n*Do NOT tell her you love her.*\n\n\nShe stared at Oliver. “Yeah?”\n\n\n“I’m sorry.” Oliver sighed. “I really am sorry about everything.”\n\n\nJenny gave Oliver a pained half-smile. “Yeah,” she said, “I’m sorry too.”\n\n\n---\n\n\n/r/liswrites\n"
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5
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"1525977139",
"1525980815",
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[WP] You’re a prolific serial killer but you’ve been at it for years and your next kill made you realize you’re sick of doing your job. | 41 | [
"**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",
"Henry sharpened a knife, and turned towards his knocked out soon to be victims. They were waking up, and staring at him with fear. He stepped over to the female, and traced her cheek with the knife, leaving a faint line of blood. He sighed, and set the knife down.\n\n“I can’t do this. Not anymore.” He dropped into a chair and pulled off his mask, slicking back his dark hair, which was soaked with sweat. “I just... just can’t.” They started struggling. Henry grabbed the knife and pointed it at them. They stopped moving.\n\n“I just... there’s no fun in it, anymore, you know? I used to enjoy this, but two hundred kills will wear that thin. I don’t know how I made it this far.” He stood up and began pacing. “Used to, that last breath... that was what I lived for. But now...” he sighed again. “I think you guys will be last.” \n\nIt took them a hot minute to figure out what Henry said. He walked over to the woman, screaming into the rag he had tied in her mouth, the man crying as well. He held her by the collarbone, and raised the knife, ready to get this over with.\n\n“Mommy...? Daddy...?” The woman’s screams got more desperate. Henry turned to the door.\n\n“Shit. A kid.” She couldn’t have been older than six, and was clutching a small bear. I set the knife down and looked at the woman. “She yours?” She nodded furiously. Henry stepped over to the child, her parents no doubt begging her to run.\n\nNot that she could have escaped, but still. \n\nHenry crouched down in front of the kid.\n\n“Hey, little one. These your parents?”\n\n“Mhm.”\n\n“They treat you right? Keep you happy?”\n\n“Yeah, they’re the best. Who are you?”\n\n“Don’t worry about that. You must be sleepy, right? Head on upstairs and go to bed while I take care of your mom and dad, okay?”\n\n“Uh... okay...” she turned and went up the stairs. I sighed in relief, and returned my attention to the parents.\n\n“Listen. Hold still, or you’re going to get hurt.” I stepped behind both of them and cut them loose. The dad rubbed his wrists and eyed me warily.\n\n“Why are you letting us go?”\n\n“I have better people to kill. You have a kid.” I set the knife down and opened the door. “Take care of her. She just saved your lives.” I could hear them sobbing together in the garage for a while.\n\n***",
"I've never hated anyone in my life as much as I hate Kevin M. Grant, motivational speaker. Actually I've never hated anyone, really. Besides him. I suppose your average guy in the street might think that's strange, and he would expect me to hate everyone. That what I do, I do out of hate. After all, I am a serial killer.\n\nBut it's not like that. The thing is, I don't feel much of anything, really, which is why I started killing people. Murder was really the only thing that let me feel any kind of thrill at all. And now I don't even have that, on account of Kevin M. Grant, motivational speaker. Kevin M. Grant, who is currently tied to a chair in my basement and sleeping off the horse tranquilizers.\n\nI can hardly wait until he wakes up, because when he does I am going to go to town on that son of a bitch. I've got everything laid out already: three different kinds of pliers, a blowtorch, razorblades, a ball peen hammer, scalpels, a couple of handsaws. I even bought some concentrated lime juice, just to make it hurt more. I also got a camp stove and some non-stick pans. I've never been into the cannibalism thing, honestly, but for this guy, I think I might give it a shot.\n\nBecause this is Kevin M. Grant, motivational speaker, otherwise known as the motherfucker that ruined my life.\n\nEleven years ago, I was just an car mechanic. I mean, I was also a serial killer, but that part of my life was just a hobby. I'd grab the occasional hitchhiker or hooker a few times a year, and man, those would be good times. Every murder was fresh and interesting, and I'd look forward to it and take pride in my work. I suppose I wasn't really happy in the way that normal people can be happy, what with me not really feeling much in the way of emotion, but it was good. I was content.\n\nThen Kevin M. Grant, motivational speaker, came into my life. It was a nice, cool night in early fall, I remember. I'd just had a great kill, and I was all jazzed up and couldn't sleep, so I stayed up watching TV. And Kevin M. Grant, motivational speaker, came on and started talking about how to turn a hobby into a career.\n\nYeah, I know it was a goddamn informercial, but like I said, I was all jazzed up and I didn't want that feeling to go away, ever. Great fucking timing by Kevin M. Grant. I was the perfect audience.\n\nA week later, I paid seven hundred and ninety five bucks to go to one of his seminars. I bought both his books and read them cover to cover. (Although the one about flipping houses didn't really offer anything that was relevant to my situation, I have to admit.)\n\nA month after that, I quit my job as a mechanic and started working as a hitman for the local Mafia. For a while, it was great. Not only was the pay amazing, but the variety of targets was just fucking staggering. I got to kill loan sharks, housewives, cops, lawyers, environmentalists, real estate developers, you name it. I even murdered some little old lady who wouldn't leave her rent-controlled apartment. It was fantastic.\n\nBut what Kevin M. Grant, motivational speaker, neglected to mention is that when you can have everything, you start to want ... nothing. I was already getting bored after nine months on the job. After three years, I was downright sick of all of it. After six years, I started getting a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach every time the phone rang.\n\nAnd I remember thinking, *How did it come to this? I used to love killing people.*\n\nI soldiered on for another five years. Looking back, I'm not really sure how I managed to keep doing it even after I'd come to hate it so much. That old frog-in-boiling-water story, I guess. But last summer, I was up late, watching TV. I couldn't sleep. Not because I was excited, but because I was bored. Have you ever been too bored to sleep? I didn't think that was even possible, but there I was. Too fucking bored to sleep.\n\nAnd then that motherefucker, Kevin M. Grant, motivational speaker, came on and started talking about turning a hobby into a career.\n\nThat's when I knew what I had to do. I skipped the job I was scheduled to do that morning. Instead, I went to the park and watched the people jogging and picnicking and feeding the ducks and all that crap. *And I didn't imagine killing any of them.*\n\nI have to tell you, it was a glorious feeling, not having to murder someone. I'd forgotten what that could be like, and I didn't want to lose it. That evening, I went to the deli that my boss worked out of and tendered my resignation.\n\nWell, to be honest, I *tried* to tender my resignation, but my boss was pissed about the mark that I didn't do -- after eleven years of perfect service, even. And when I tried to tell him I was quitting, he said some things that maybe he shouldn't have. But I held firm, and we ended up working things out ... by which I mean that I'm now officially retired and he's now officially in a hole full of quicklime out in the woods off of Route 151. Which is too bad, because I kind of liked the guy.\n\nAfter that, I took a few weeks of well-deserved vacation before I tracked down Kevin M. Grant, motivational speaker. Kevin M. Grant, who is now tied to a chair in my basement, sleeping off the horse tranquilizers. Kevin M. Grant, who made me hate the only thing in my life that gave me any enjoyment whatsoever. Kevin M. Grant, who is going to be the last person that I ever murder.\n\nGod, I haven't felt this way in a long time.",
"The red\\-headed woman wiggled and struggled against the zip\\-ties that bound her hands and feet, attempting to flail, but failing heroically. Instead, she was carving divots in her flesh, causing herself more pain and distress. And making a fucking ruckus, to boot.\n\n\"You know that's not helping,\" the hooded man said with a sigh. \"It's gonna be easier for both of us if you just simmer down. I know the bad guy always says that, but like, I mean it, okay? I'm not having a good day today. Don't make it worse.\"\n\nThe victim's muffled grunts increased in volume and tenacity, pleading, her eyes welling with tears of frustration.\n\n\"I haven't made it back to the vet for more tranqs, so...\" he trailed off, turning away, his eyes gliding across the gray concrete floor. \"Sorry. Trust me, this isn't fun for me, either.\" He returned his gaze to the woman and locked eyes with her. \"Let's just...get on with it.\"\n\nWith another sigh, he turned and grabbed his cleaver from the workbench. He faced her squarely and raised the weapon above his head with one hand while sliding his modified welding mask down with the other. She was struggling harder now, her breath ragged and gasping, her arms and legs twisting fruitlessly on the operating table.\n\nHe blew air through his teeth slowly, fogging up the glass with heat. He cursed, sucking air back in, hoping to clear the mask to no avail. He sighed audibly, causing even more condensation, before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.\n\n\"I hate Mondays.\"\n\n\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\n\nThe clean\\-up was always the worst part. The only modicum of joy Henry Benjamin Marcus achieved from these murders was the split second before the kill. And at this point, after 125 of them, it was starting to get, honestly, pretty boring. He was doing it now out of twisted habit and dark need; it only barely satiated his existential hunger.\n\nThis one, Claire, bled more than most. Maybe that was on him; he was getting a bit sloppy. It was like Bundy said: “It’s like changing a tire. The first time you’re careful. By the thirtieth time, you can’t remember where you left the lug wrench.”\n\nThis, his 126th time, Henry forgot the whole damn toolbox.\n\nNo tranquilizer, no chloroform, no handcuffs, no buzzsaw. Just his trusty cleaver and an improvised kill\\-table. It was messy. But he'd handled more with less. In a way, this part was routine. He had learned which chemicals to mix together to lift blood right out of any surface. He knew exactly where on each limb to hack for the cleanest cut with the least bone fragments.\n\nThis woman, this Claire, was prettier than most, too, which bummed him out. Henry hated killing the pretty ones.\n\nIn fact, now, he didn't enjoy killing anyone at all.\n\nIt was sometime around kill #30 when he started losing his appetite. It was a plump, older lady. Jess, was it? Jen? Jan! That was it. Janet. She preferred Jan. He didn't care. She was loud and obnoxious, and had two kids she wouldn't shut up about, even through a taped mouth. He saw pictures. They were fat, too.\n\nKill #30 just annoyed the shit out of him. Everything about it. All the work with no satisfaction. He had to schlep Janet out to his car in 5 trips, she was so massive, and he almost got caught. He pulled a thigh muscle trying to lift her torso to place it in the back of his van. It pissed him off.\n\nFrom then on, when he got calls from the Devil \\(that's what Henry called him, because that's who it was\\), he groaned inwardly and carried out the kills dutifully. He still enjoyed the moment before the victims' deaths, savored it as much as he could, but each kill the satiation lasted just a few milliseconds less. Until it was virtually nonexistent.\n\nAnd now, after this kill and cleanup, he was wiped out. Utterly exhausted. Over it. He wanted to walk out on this job, quit without a 2 weeks notice, but, of course...he couldn't.\n\nThe Devil had made a deal with Henry, and he must oblige.\n\nOn his drive home, his cell phone rang. He gritted his teeth when he saw the caller.\n\nHe answered. \"What is it? I just\\-\\-\"\n\n\"Yo, Henry,\" came the guttural bass of the Devil Himself.\n\n\"Listen, can't this wait, I\\-\\-\"\n\n\"No, it *can't* wait,\" he rumbled. \"We got a live one.\"\n\n\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\n\nedit: formatting and slight final dialog change"
] | [
1,
1,
5,
10
] | [
"1526056157",
"1526096994",
"1526072282",
"1526066597"
] | |
[WP] As you are walking home, you feel a subtle shift in reality. Whenever you think the words "roast beef," you must roast beef within 24 hours. Otherwise, you will die. You eventually realize that everyone in the world must also roast beef to survive. | 10 | [
"**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 was the damn Bakers that started it all. Specifically, Robert Baker and his fucking roast beef.\n\nI was only a block away from my house when I caught a whiff of something burning. Concealed by the scent of smoke was an aroma that I *knew*, but couldn't quite put my finger on. As I drew closer to the origin of the smell, it came to me.\n\n*Roast beef.*\n\nAs soon as though two words crossed my mind, I began to feel queasy. I paused on the sidewalk, clutching my stomach. Just then, Robert emerged from his house, toting a black garbage bag.\n\n\"Hey, neighbor!\" he shouted. Then, noticing my distress, he added, \"Are you all right?\"\n\n\"Yeah, Robert. Just a little nauseous.\"\n\n\"Ah, yeah? Well, you don't look so good. Why don't I walk you home?\"\n\n\"Really, I'm fine.\"\n\n\"No, I insist. It's only a little up the way.\"\n\nRobert had always been a considerate neighbor. Though we did not live adjacent to each other, he had taken the time to acquaint himself with me, and even invited me to his annual summer barbecues. \n\n\nWrapping one arm around my shoulders and placing a hand at my elbow, he guided me to my front door. I pulled my key out of my pocket with trembling hands, and jammed it in the lock. Once the door was open, Robert walked me to my couch. I sprawled on it with a groan.\n\n\"You really don't look too good,\" Robert said, studying my face.\n\n\"I'm sure it's nothing,\" I said. \"I'm probably just overworked. I'll just take a quick nap, and then eat something. I think I'll be okay after that.\"\n\nRobert looked unconvinced, but he left. Shortly thereafter, I fell asleep.\n\n***\n\nWhen I woke up, I felt better, but I was ravenous. As I stumbled into the kitchen, I glanced at the digital clock on my stove. 12:37 A.M. The nap took longer than I had anticipated. I took inventory of the food in my refrigerator, and decided to have a cup of Greek yogurt.\n\nI grabbed a spoon and shoveled a bite into my mouth.\n\nI instantly felt sick. I dashed to the bathroom, and drained the meager contents of my stomach into the toilet until I felt better. I checked the expiration date on the yogurt and found that it had expired two days prior. I tossed it in the trash, and rummaged through my refrigerator for something else.\n\nI decided to heat a few Totino's pizza bites. My favorite. After making sure they had cooled properly, I popped one into my mouth. \n\nAgain, I felt sick. Only this time, it was accompanied by the overwhelming desire to eat roast beef. It was stupid, but I felt that I couldn't eat anything *but* roast beef. Almost like, if I didn't eat roast beef, I would die.\n\nActing purely on instinct, I dashed out of the house and ran down to Robert's house. I ripped the lid off of his trash can, and tore through the mound of garbage bags until I found the one he had crammed his failed roast beef into. It smelled putrid, but I couldn't resist the urge to eat it. I tore bits off and shoveled them into my mouth. It gave me immediate relief, almost like a medicine.\n\nJust as I was finishing, I heard sneakers pounding the pavement behind me. As I turned around, someone leaped onto my shoulders.\n\n\"ROAST BEEF!\" they shouted, clawing at my hands. \"Give me the roast beef!\"\n\nTheir screams must have attracted the attention of others, because I was soon mobbed by people.\n\n\"Roast beef!\"\n\n\n\"Where?!\"\n\n\n\"Here! It's here!\"\n\n\nI managed to wrestle my attacker off my back, but I was being surrounded quickly. They had already blocked off the route to my house, so I grabbed the remains of my roast beef and dashed to the nearest house. \n\n\"Robert!\" I screamed, banging on the door. \"Help!\n\nWhen Robert opened the door, I barely recognized him. He wore a white cape and a chef's hat. Without a word, he jerked me inside and slammed the door shut behind me. \n\n\"Robert, there's something weird going on.\"\n\nRobert locked the door. Without turning to face me, he replied, \"I never thought the prophecy would be fulfilled so soon. I suppose it is my fault, though.\"\n\n\"Prophecy? What are you talking about?\"\n\n\n\"The Great Prophecy of the Bakers.\"\n\n\nBefore I could question him again, he began to recite a short poem.\n\n\n\"\"Brought by the Baker's mistake \n\nIn the masses they shall awake \n\nThe great hunger from its sleep \n\nAnd the world will be brought to its end \n\nBy Roast Beef\"\n\n\n\"What the hell does that mean?\" I asked once he was done.\n\n\nRobert turned to glower at me.\n\n\n\"It means that in less than twenty-four hours, everyone on this planet is going to die unless they eat roast beef.\""
] | [
1,
4
] | [
"1526078479",
"1526089945"
] | |
[WP] You’re the last person on earth. One day there is a knock on the door. | 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",
"\"S'open\" I slurred.\n\nWhat in god's name possessed me to say that? I knew damn well there wasn't going to be anything good on the other side of that door. My key was still in the damn ignition. Halligan's key was still in the damn ignition. He wasn't in the bunker though. Taken the 1911 Express out and left me with an almost full clip and the emergency whiskey. Suppose I can blame inviting the knocker in on Ol' Jack but that wouldn't be real fair would it? He didn't do nothing but get sucked down into a damn mess, same as the rest of us.\n\nThe knock came again, same bong, bong bong. \"S'open!\" I shouted back, like a damn fool. The thought popped into my head that maybe they couldn't hear me. Those bombs got pretty loud didn't they? I turned to ask Halligan, he'd always been real knowledgeable about what we were in charge of, before I remember that'd he'd taken off. Painted a shiny red exit sign on the wall as he waltzed on out. Damn shame. I would've liked to know how loud those bombs could get. \"You know Jackie?\" I asked the bottle. It didn't answer me so I gave it another kiss. I'd never loved a man asides from Jack Daniels. Guess I'd just blow my chances to experiment with that particular feeling to smithereens. \n\nI ended the kiss as the knock came again. \"Alright, I'm coming!\" I bellowed. The bunker spun as I hauled myself up. Jack's old home clattered to the floor an rolled with the spin to bounce off of Halligan's boot. Damn fool left those behind too didn't he? And his pants, and his shirt, and probably the whole undergarment set. Just rude. He knew we shared this office, it wasn't his bachelor pad to slob up. I worked my way up towards the door, climbing against the spinning room. This was like the astronauts wasn't it? They pretended they had gravity by setting their rockets off like tops and throwing themselves against the wall. That's probably what happened. Team Rocket had blasted off again, riding a nuke into the upper atmosphere. I was gonna pop open this door and give Neil Armstrong a big old kiss. \n\nBong, bong, bong went the door. \"Fuck! What a sec' will ya?\" I leaned up against the door and gave the handle a twist. She turned real easy, but the door didn't budge. I muttered a curse and tried twisting the other way to even less good. I cranked it back down and threw my shoulder at the door. Nothing but a bruised up shoulder for my trouble. That almost sobered me up. I was trapped. \n\nUntil my eyes fell on the deadbolts and I began to giggle. I undid them and threw the door open. Only then did I remember why I set the damn things in the first place."
] | [
1,
4
] | [
"1526080999",
"1526090376"
] | |
[WP] Your grandmother passed years ago. One night, you get a FarmVille notification from her Facebook account. When you accept the invite, you find the most elaborate, high level farm you’ve ever seen, perfectly organized and realistically functioning, but the corn field is arranged to spell “HELP.” | 1,256 | [
"**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 mourned my grandmother every day for two years. She was my best friend and roommate. We shared a room ever since she got too sick and weak to sleep alone.\n\nI missed her more than I could bear. She was my last grandparent.\n\nI even chopped up the double bed we shared and got myself a mattress. I don't like the thought of sleeping in the room alone, but it also makes me feel like I'm close to her still.\n\nEventually, I slipped into a rhythm. My parents visited often. But it wasn't the same. I couldn't be close to my family anymore. The pain of losing someone was so gripping, it hurt my soul.\n\nAs the days wore on, I discovered a game on Facebook. Someone on my list had sent me an invite. At first I scoffed at it. I was above stupid games.\n\nBut one day, I had no work to do, and no other plans. So I gave it a shot. The darned thing was addictive. I had a pretty cool farm soon, and lots of animals.\n\nI added all my friends on the game - the ones who liked virtual farming. One day, my grandmother's memorial profile had sent me a notification.\n\nI was shocked. Maybe someone tagged her on a post?? Maybe someone posted something on the memorial page and tagged me? I clicked it. It was a link to Farmville.\n\nMy hands started to shiver. How is this possible? The farm in the game was a beautiful one. It looked more realistic than the one I had. It had a cornfield, a few barns, some other plants and a beautiful stream flowing through half the farm. The animals were all grazing or chilling.\n\nThat's when I saw it. The cornfield had formed the word \"help.\" I panicked and closed the window. I shut down my computer and curled up in bed. The damned prank (I was so sure it was a prank) had stirred up memories I couldn't bear.\n\nAfter what seemed like a few hours, I had convinced myself it was my imagination. I tried again. The damned notification and farm were still there. \"Help\" seemed smaller, feeble almost.\n\nI clicked the corn, wondering how that would help. A window popped up. It was a video link. I clicked on it and it opened in an incognito tab on Chrome. How is it doing this on its own??\n\nBy this time, my hands were shaking so badly, it took me a few tries to click play. I clicked play with great difficulty. The video started with a black screen.\n\nIt blinked and started. \"It's me. Grandma. I'm not dead. Help. Get me out. I am in the barn. The barn. The barn.\" The video glitched and ended.\n\nI was so shocked I couldn't move. I sat there staring for a few minutes. Eventually, I pushed myself to try what the video said. It must be a prank, a prank, a prank. Convincing myself was the hardest thing. It was her voice. Her face. How?\n\nI closed the video link. Back on Farmville, I looked at my grandmother's farm. I saw the barns. I clicked them all one after the other. After a few tries, the doors opened. My heart stopped.\n\nOut of the miniature doors came my grandmother. She was tiny. But it was her. She waved at me. I blinked. And then... She pounded on the screen.\n\n\"They're after me. Let me out.\" Her voice was high pitched, not very loud. I didn't know what to do. That's when the computer switched itself off with a small \"phut\" sound. \n\nI gripped the table so hard...\n\nI woke myself up.\n\nI was sweating. It was a dream. \n\nA stupid weird dream.\n\nI had to check.\n\nI turned on my computer, and logged into Facebook. The notification was there. It was from her. For Farmville.\n\n....\n\nEdit: Part 2\n\nI called up Elsie. That's all I knew. I couldn't deal with this alone. I couldn't scare my parents. Elsie answered after a few rings. \"Hey! Look who remembered her best friend!\" She said, her tone sarcastic.\n\n\"Sorry, Els! You know what's been happening to me. But wait. There's something more. Please come over?\"\n\nElsie might've been upset, but she also was the only person I knew who had the biggest and softest heart. She agreed and said she'd be at my place in an hour.\n\nRight on time, I thought, as the doorbell rang an hour later. Elsie might be the most punctual person I know too! She hugged me as soon as she saw me.\n\n\"What's up, woman? Why you so freaked out?\" She asked. I explained how the dream went, and how I woke up to an actual notification.\n\nShe didn't believe me at first and then saw how I was super scared and super serious. I led her to the computer and showed her the notification. We clicked it together.\n\nElsie gasped when she saw the \"help\" sign on the crops. \"Damn! That's weird!\" She said. I agreed. We sat quietly for a few minutes, both of us wondering what to do. \"Let's try clicking again? What if we call a coder or something?\" Elsie asked.\n\n\"I don't want to involve anyone else. They might think we're nuts. Worse - what if it is Granny's spirit?\" I asked, my voice trembling.\n\nWe tried clicking and finally found one spot that seemed to work. The spot opened up a message that read - \"I've left a series of messages. Follow them quickly. I'm still in trouble. Look in my diary at home. - Granny.\"\n\nWe gasped. \"That's... Not possible. How could she send me a message... From beyond?\" I asked. Elsie shook her head. \"I don't know. I don't know!!\" We went to her suitcase. I didn't unpack it ever. I never even looked at it. I didn't want to throw it away either. Good thing, I guess.\n\n\"Let's do this,\" Elsie said. We opened the suitcase and rooted around for the diary. I found it hidden under her favourite set of clothes. \"Found it!\" I said. Elsie was admiring some jewelry my grandmother had left me. She dropped it and turned her attention to the diary.\n\n\"Look. Here's a note.\" She said after we flipped through it. \"It's dated... June 2018! Omg! She expected you to find it in June???\" Elsie was scared too. Both of us were.\n\nI took the note with shaking hands. I began to read it out loud to Elsie.\n\n\"My dearest grandchild,\n\nYou've been wonderful to everyone around you. I understand you're probably pulling away from family by this time. If you're reading this, I'm sure the government has found a way to keep me locked in the system. I devised a plan to keep you in the loop somehow. Elsie is here too, isn't she? Keep her close. You need all the help you can get.\n\nLet me give you my history so you'll understand. Years ago, I used to be a spy for our government (I mean our home country. Where we come from.) I joined forces with your grandfather and that's where we met. Our parents were against the marriage, and we knew we'd end up together.\n\nWhen we got married, I was already 30. I had you uncle and your mother immediately after. So I gave up my work. I couldn't travel much after that. That's when they began hunting me down. Your grandfather and I moved around with the kids often. We didn't want to be caught.\n\nBut I knew they'd find us eventually. Until then, we wanted to keep our kids safe. So we did. But when I turned 80, they decided to put my picture up for my 80th. It was on the internet. They found me. No matter what, I had incredible secrets to share. They needed me dead.\n\nThey found me, too. And that's when I began falling sick. I backed my memory up through some software our people helped us with. (Yeah, I'm cool like that!)\n\nThe messages you're getting are from there. I'm not a spirit. Or maybe I am? But I dated this letter approximately three years ahead. I knew you'd find it sometime then.\n\nAll you need to do is find the encrypted file and take it to a Mr. Godbole. He's in Philly. The address is with your mother. She grew up with Mr. Godbole's kids. Just ask her for her address book and take it from there. Once that's done, burn this letter and destroy all evidence. \n\nUntil then, stay safe. Look for a file named \"Sharada wedding pictures\" on E: Drive. That's where you'll find it. Get professional help only from someone you truly trust. The rest is up to you.\n\nYour,\nGranny.\n\nPS: Get out of the house. I'm sure you're moping around!\"\n\nElsie and I laughed nervously. And sobered up just as quick. She was a spy? She had lived an adventurous life and I had no clue? What was I doing all my life? How did I not know?\n\nI burst into tears and Elsie held me. This was so much to process. I decided to finish it all that day. We had to get to Philly from NYC. And quick. I looked through E drive and found nothing suspicious in the folder she mentioned.\n\nDecided to get in an expert. Elsie's boyfriend Aaron was a coder (convenience, eh?) We called him in. And he found the file immediately. He put it on a hard drive, and gave me a copy to keep on my phone as well. \"Need male company to keep y'all safe?\" He asked. We grinned and nodded.\n\nSo the three of us decided to drive down. It was about twenty minutes into the drive. We were talking, and singing. And that's when it happened. A truck collided with us. I didn't think we'd make it. But damn. Aaron was a hero! He somehow pulled us out of the wreckage, with minor wounds. His driving had saved us from instant death.\n\nWe investigated. The truck had no driver. We knew we had to run. And run we did. Damn. Granny, what did you get us into???\n\n......\n\nMore soon!! I didn't know how the story would turn out. Hope this doesn't suck.\n\n(I lost my grandmother a while ago, so the initial parts were true. Hope y'all like it.)"
] | [
1,
184
] | [
"1526112318",
"1526126510"
] | |
[WP] You were born unable to speak, unable to make facial expressions, and unable move your neck. And you are now meeting your favorite hero. | 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",
"The world is made up of words. For every place, person, and thing, there is a word to describe it. If you want to be more specific, you can use a special combination of words to fully describe something. You can even string together words that may not seem to go together, only to find that they describe something that only exists in your own mind. Words can bring to life the unknown. This is what makes words so magical. \n\nThe word most would use to describe me is “vegetable.” It seems unfitting because I am not a carrot or broccoli or even some variation of fruit; I am very much a human being. But I cannot speak. I cannot express myself like the actors do in the movies. I am just… here. Stuck in my own mind. It is agonizing.\n \nThe only time I seem to escape is when I am reading. The words on the page describe places I’ve never seen, people I’ve never met, feelings I’ve never felt and yet they all feel so real. These places do not exist physically before me but I can almost clearly feel the grass beneath my feet. These people do not exist, and yet I can feel their happiness, their pain. They do not need a voice to be real. They only need words.\n \nThe first woman to show me how powerful words could be was none other than J.K. Rowling. I received Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone as a present when I was eight years old; my family may not have realized it at the time, but I couldn’t contain my joy. I read the book 10 times over the next few months, stopping only when I realized there were more books in the series. Those books sparked my love of reading. They made me realize that I, too, could have a voice, even if I couldn’t speak. \n\nToday, J.K. Rowling is handing out copies of her final book to the first 15 people in line. I’ve been camping out for a week. The staff of the bookstore told me it was unnecessary. I just stared at them. How could I reply? They left as soon my expressionless face made them uncomfortable. It can come in handy sometimes. \n\nAt last, the time had come. Many excited fans were lined up behind me, but I was first. Some people seemed irritated that I wasn’t more excited about the event, but the truth was my heart was racing a mile a minute. My interaction with her would be short and simple. But would she understand?\n\nI approached her. She was sitting at a lavish table decorated with Harry Potter memorabilia, a scarf with the colors of Gryffindor draped around her neck. She smiled sweetly at me as I walked up to the table, my hands shaking as they nearly crushed the small note I agonized over for the last week. \n\nShe held the first copy of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hollows to ever be sold in her hands. “Hello, dear,” she said to me. “Who can I make this out to?”\n\nI waved my hand in front of my face, signaling that it wasn’t necessary. She seemed perplexed until I handed her the note. She took it from my trembling hands and read it. \n\n*I cannot speak. But, because of you, now I can write. Thank you for giving me a voice.*\n\nShe looked up at me and smiled. “Thank you for coming to meet me. It is an honor.” She looked to her right, where three other scarves in the colors of the Houses of Hogwarts were draped over a chair. She gently pulled out the scarf decorated with blue and bronze, the colors of the house of Ravenclaw. “Those who do not speak are often the wisest.” She draped the scarf over my shoulders. \n\nOur eyes locked as she did so, and for the first time in my life, I felt truly heard and truly understood. My face could not express the emotion I felt in that moment save for the stream of tears rolling down my emotionless face.\n\nEDIT: Formatting, ha."
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1,
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"1526156897",
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[removed] | [WP] It was a normal night last night. But when you wake up in the morning, there was a weird feeling in the air. It was almost, very quiet. Too silent. YOU ARE ONE OF THE SURVIVORS OF THE SNAP. | 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,\n\nThis post has been removed. Posts that contain or are likely to encourage responses containing spoilers are not allowed at this time.\n\nIf you have any questions, please feel free to send a modmail."
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1,
1
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"1526176461",
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[WP] 50 years ago you went to a carnival with friends and decided to go to a booth, the booth was a "Death Date Certificate" booth and you paid for one, its said "May 14th 2068", Today, May 13th 2068, when rummaging through old papers you find it. | 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",
"Rain hammered the windows of the apartment. A stray tear splashed across the papers as the girl tossed another stack into the trash. She knew this day would come, nothing lasts forever... but why did he have to suffer like this. Another tear found its way onto the pages. Useless stuff paper was really, hard to find what you need and too easy to find things that could make you remember. The girl used a page to wipe away her tears before throwing it too into the metallic bin. Another stack of old useless memories, really dad. Could't of sorted this out earlier so I could be by you now. But did she really want to be there? The last time she visited hospice he greeted her as a stranger. Why couldn't the stroke of just taken him, why didn't- a small slip of paper slipped from the stack. Tossing this pile too into the bin she bent down to grab the small ticket. \"Death Certificate\" she mouthed, \"May 14th 2068\". Tomorrow. With a smile she got up and walked towards the door. Her tears mixed with the rain as she waited for the car to park itself. I'm coming dad, its almost over.\n\nDrunk and tierd af, feedback and critiques please, i'm trying to get better"
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1,
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"1526186959",
"1526197051"
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[WP] You wake up one morning to find that you've swapped bodies... with your identical twin. | 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",
"My name is Sam Diphlem, I come from a prety much poor family in Cincinnati, Ohio, I live with my mother and my twin brother, Ross we're at our last year at highschool. We are tend to be called the DifOlam brothers (Dif = difference, Olam = World in Hebrew) although we look exactly the same, we are worlds apart, I never understood why we are being called like that, up untill recently.\n\n\"Don't worry mom, we'll be fine!, really!\" we said in perfect timing together as she walked out from the house, \"Stop coping me, weirdo\", again in perfect timing. It's getting weird, we're saying the *exact* same things, it keeps up like that for another 2-3 good minutes, and then we stopped talking, wating for the other to break the loop, and we waited untill 2.00AM when we both said \"Good night\". We have only rooms, one for mom, a kitchen and for us so we sleep in the same room.\n\nAnd this is where things went off.\n\nI woke up in the wrong bed. I see my brother sleeps in my bed. \"Dude what'ya doin' 'n my be-\" and then I relized, my brother had dental bridge 3 years ago and he had since then something attached to his teeth in order to prevent his teeth \"to bent\" again, and now I got this thing in **my teeth** when I sleep in **his** bed. \"Get the hell up! ROSS!\". We switched bodies.\n\n\"It's not that bad right? we're identical, I'll just be me and you will stay you, no one will notice!\" I tried to relax myself. \"I'm afraid it's not that simple, Sam. Don't you feel it?\" he says *suspiciously* calm, \"fell wha-\"...\"Your body! Sam, you are wasted from last night, I mean, I'm wasted, but , like-I mean-you are-hmm- addicted to heroine.\" and then I understand, We look the same, but we're diffrent. He's got a whole other life.\n\nShould I continue that? I've got something on my mind but right now this doesn't sound that promising..."
] | [
1,
1
] | [
"1526197339",
"1526221844"
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[WP] You run a disease charity, and whilst you haven't yet found a cure you have found a way to give people the disease. You decide to start infecting celebrities and high profile individuals, in the hope that the awareness raised and money donated can finally find a cure. | 80 | [
"**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 last bodyguard slumped to the ground and I put away my gas gun, brushing aside the rat's nest of tubing that connected it to the reservoir tanks on my back. I nodded to Alvin, and he administered the injection. The prion-derived chemical inside, which I typically used in small doses to ease the pain of mental trauma, served well as an impromptu memory eraser. I patted the unconscious man down, and found a flask. I opened it and poured a little on his clothes, dabbing it onto his face as well. No doubt both he and Ms. Lynn would assume the blackout was caused by drinking on the job. The smell of his breath told me that it wasn't entirely a lie. \n\nI stood, wiping off my gloves on my coat. Half a dozen men had been posted outside of Ms. Lynn's bedroom. Frankly, I'd expected more. For the biggest triple threat in Hollywood, actress, singer, and screenwriter, less than a dozen guards on her entire estate was a joke. Alvin and I had put down scores more protectors for celebrities far less important, and far less rich. Not that I was complaining. My joints were already on fire from having to subdue and position so many people; I would be sore for days. Alvin cough politely, bringing me out of my reverie. We had work to do.\n\nThe bedroom door was locked, of course. I nodded at Alvin, and he took a device from his belt and inserted the tip gently into the keyhole. The doorknob vibrated hard for a moment, like a heart beating fast in fear, before the lock gave way. It would appear to have merely failed from wear and tear to a forensic investigator, or at least one with only the meager tools of the LAPD at their disposal. Alvin carefully opened the door and I stepped inside, drawing my gas gun.\n\nA bullet slammed into my shoulder, knocking me back a few feet. But it was unable to penetrate the layers of Kevlar woven into my coat. Laura Lynn was sitting up in bed, a nine millimeter pistol in hand. Her eyes were wide and her pupils were terrified pinpricks. Her red hair, normally so vivid, so shiny on stage was mussed beyond recognition. I raised my gas gun, toggling the thumb switch to a paralysis agent. \"I would recommend that you put the gun down, Ms. Lynn,\" I said in as soothing a voice as I could muster. Decades of careful attention to my bedside manner had made me quite soothing indeed; Laura lowered the gun slowly, her irregular, shallow breathing becoming slower and steadier.\n\n\"D-Dr. Nostrum?\" she gasped, bewildered. Alvin shut the door behind us and engaged one of the switches on his belt. A wave of electromagnetism washed over the room, frying the iPhone on Ms. Lynn's bed stand and disabling any hidden alarms. It was our fourth sweep, but you can never be too sure.\n\n\"Yes,\" I answered, my gas gun still pointed at her face. \"I've come to offer you the chance to be a hero, Ms. Lynn.\"\n\nThe woman snorted at me, then broke into laughter, the terror broken. \"Am I dreaming? I hear that corny-ass line on your commercials every day.\"\n\nI closed the dozen feet between us in the span of a heartbeat. Age had taken its toll, but I was still quite fit. \"Yet I don't remember receiving a donation from you, if you've heard my message before.\" The muzzle of my gas gun was half an inch from her nose. She blinked at me a dozen times.\n\n\"I donate to charity! Lots of them! Toys for Tots, Salvation Army, Habitat for Humanity... just not... yours. I'm... I'm sorry, though. I'll donate right now if you want.\"\n\n\"I'm not here for your money,\" I said. My voice was ice. \"But I would like to offer you the chance to donate something far more valuable...\" Alvin approached, his face grim as he unsheathed the needle. It was long and thick, specially designed for piercing the skull. Fear crept back into Laura's eyes as she watched.\n\n\"Your health.\"\n\n\"I-I-I-I,\" she stammered incoherently. She scooted backwards, pivoting her legs to the side. She was trying to run. I pulled the trigger slightly, allowing a hint of the paralytic agent to seep out of my gun. All at once, her muscles seized up and she fell back into the bed. She would not escape me.\n\n\"I had hoped that you, of all people, would agree to help me of your own free will. But I suppose that idea is *corny*, isn't it, Ms. Lynn? But maybe I'm just the sentimental type. I've spent decades healing the world, so I guess it comes natural by now. But no one has actually agreed with me yet. Can't say I'm surprised, but I am disappointed.\"\n\n\"N-n-no one?\" she asked, her lips moving slowly, as if half-frozen.\n\n\"You're my fourth target, Ms. Lynn. You're very popular, you see, so your diagnosis will raise donations far beyond the other three. Far beyond your entire net worth, actually. And those are just the projections if you survive.\"\n\nTears welled up in her eyes. I noticed Alvin turn away, under the pretense of preparing the injection. A pang of sympathy hit me, but I dismissed it. The greater good demanded I close my heart.\n\n\"Why?\" she asked. I wasn't made of ice. I could at least explain.\n\n\"Cancer is a dragon that terrorizes humanity. I've poured most of my personal fortune into my research. But I'm no closer to slaying the dragon then I was ten years ago. My funds are exhausted. That's why I started the Nostrum Foundation for Cancer. I'd hoped my reputation would bring in enough donations to fund research, but I found out the hard way that people don't care. Apparently, once I'd hung up the cape for a few years, I wasn't worth anyone's time anymore. Nor anyone's money, either.\"\n\nAlvin, now grimly composed and ready for the task at hand, turned back to Laura Lynn and began swabbing her temple with alcohol. He was gentle, compassionate. Neither of us wanted this to be any more unpleasant than it needed to be.\n\n\"But my research did turn up something. Something terrible.\" I flicked the glass portion of the syringe in Alvin's hand. \"I call it Eleanor's Lament. It's derived from papillomavirus, in the same way that you and I could be said to be derived from apes. The Lament can make any cell it comes into contact with cancerous. A few drops will create a tumor in your brain the size of a dime. I'm aiming for one around the size of a walnut. It will be inoperable. But with chemotherapy and other, more modern treatments you may survive. You can surely afford them.\"\n\nMs. Lynn wheezed and rattled at me. The paralytic agent had gripped her entirely. She was no longer able to do anything but watch. \n\n\"The only comfort I can give you is a promise. I promise you won't remember this. You'll wake up tomorrow, and life will continue. At least until symptoms start presenting themselves. That should take a week, at most. Eleanor's Lament is potent. Her gift produced something that would have taken centuries to bioengineer with conventional methods; a blessing in disguise, though I doubt she'd have agreed. You'll be cancelling your next tour, I'm afraid.\"\n\nI took the needle from Alvin. The gravest sin tonight would be my own. He held Ms. Lynn down, which wasn't strictly necessary at this point. I turned her head and bent down for a better viewing angle. \"For what it's worth, I'm sorry,\" I said, as I plunged the needle into her temple.\n\nLaura Lynn fell unconscious immediately. The Lament worked fast, but the memory eraser and sleep drugs mixed in with it worked even faster. I swabbed the site with an alcohol pad to wipe away the evidence of our presence. Alvin took the needle and holstered it, for later sterilization. \n\n\"Let's go,\" I said, standing back up and holstering my gas gun again. There was a quiet beep from Alvin's pocket. He checked his communicator. \"It looks like new delivery vector is finished, Dr. Nostrum.\"\n\nI nodded as we left the room. Even now, we moved quietly. \"Excellent. Far ahead of schedule. We have several weeks before testing starts.\"\n\nAlvin grimaced at my side. \"Are you sure that making the Lament airborne is a good idea, doctor?\"\n\n\"It breaks down within a day outside of Eleanor's plasma. It will spread enough to do what we need, but no more.\"\n\n\"I know, doctor, but I'm not sure I'm comfortable with it. Genesis would nev-\"\n\n\"*Eleanor* would never want this,\" I said, cutting him off. \"I know. I don't want this either. But time is running short. We need funding. If we don't get it...\"\n\nAlvin's silence spoke volumes. He knew what was at stake. Eleanor would surely forgive us if she was still here. Her gift had done so much good, although in the end it was also what had ended her life. The Lament, her final creation, would make sure no others would suffer as she had.\n\nWe left via the back door. Alvin wiped down the doorknob and readied the teleporter. I stared at the half-moon, hanging low in the sky. She would forgive me, wouldn't she? I had to think that she would. Otherwise, there was no reason to live anymore. \n\n\"I'm sorry, Eleanor, but our work must go on. Without you, I can only do so much. There's... no other way.\"\n\nBut the warm California night gave no answer. Of course it wouldn't. I knew that. I had to speak it aloud anyway, though, for my conscience's sake. It was completely irrational, but it gave me comfort. \n\n\"Transportation commencing,\" said Alvin. The teleporter began to crackle with energy. Back home, and back to work. I sighed one last time before the flash that would bring us back to my lab. There was much more work to do.\n"
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1,
21
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"1526199378",
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[WP] You are a witch, luring young children to their deaths inside your gingerbread house made of sweets. But ever since the Food Standards Agency gave you a food hygiene rating of 0, the children have stopped coming. | 56 | [
"**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",
"No man, woman, or child knew what lay hidden in the black heart of the Dark Forest. Legends spoke of a fiery evil, a calumnious monster from the depths, an immortal dead soul trapped on the wrong side of Hell. The villagers’ dreams of cutting rich timber met with nightmares of pain, funerals, and the loneliness of an empty home. \n\nA steady stream of fools, travelers, and children lost themselves in the forest, never to be seen again. With the right kind of tongue, you could taste fear in the air.\n\nThe Pretty Bad Witch Esmeralda liked that taste. She knew flavor. Deep in the forest, she built her home, using the skeletons of gingerbread men she had collected on Safari in Candystan. The house was lined with brightly colored gumdrops. Somehow, they seemed to be screaming, despite the silence of the meadow.\n\n“Fuck!” Esmeralda said, leaning over her IBM Thinkpad. She sat in a swivel chair in front of a fiberboard desk she’d ordered from Officemax. The Health & Safety Board had emailed her with the results. Zero. She’d received a fucking zero on her Food Safety Inspection.\n\nLife had changed considerably over the centuries. The Pretty Bad Witch had once had a monopoly on forest victims \\(a true monopoly because the Calumnious Monster didn’t exist, it was just a good marketing campaign by Esmeralda’s P.R. guy, Johann\\). But the market for terrified children was too good to last without competition. First the gremlins came, then the ogres, and the goblins. Each group set up shop closer to the edge of the forest, to get first dibs on the lost children. Fewer and fewer thumb\\-sucking meatbags made it to Esmeralda’s cottage. She grew thinner and thinner, which helped her get likes on instagram, but what she truly craved was a meat pie made from a fat kid.\n\nEsmeralda checked her yelp! page. The rating was on there. She would never lure another grubby\\-fingered, snotty\\-nosed, iPhone\\-wielding third grader into her Candied House of Death again.\n\nThere was only one thing to do. Esmeralda grabbed her broomstick. It was time to go to City Hall."
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1,
13
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"1526209697",
"1526216425"
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[WP] Describe yourself as a fictional persona based on your username. | 101 | [
"**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 pigeon army had many soldiers that would fall into classes of fighters from the grenadiers to the sniper. But one soldier was so reckless and brave that they created a new class exclusive only to him and others that may follow in his footsteps. This class was called “The Warriors”, and whenever one of the warriors stepped onto the battlefield they struck fear in to the hearts of their enemies. Due to the power now in the hands of the pigeon army, they were able to defeat all the Hawks and Emus and gained control of Earth. All of this was thanks to one pigeon, the original Warrior. ",
"“That sounds like a **lot** of work on *my* part... what makes you imagine I’d want to help?”\n\nThe sarcastic tone resonated through the hall, introducing its announcer as a huge jerk to those who had never been acquainted to him. \n\nThe truth was, he loved to help - he relished in the ability to assist others in nearly any way he could. From reaching something on a tall shelf to performing CPR, any task he could take upon himself to better the world around him was practically done before it was even proposed to him.\n\nThat didn’t mean, however, that the fellow didn’t like to joke around.\n\nThose who knew him knew not only that he loved to help, but that his sense of humor was often exercised, usually too much. Yet, it always seemed to make those nearby at least a little bit happier, so he saw reason to indulge his eccentric side, even if it was a little excessively.\n\nHe headed off in search of the task at hand with a sly grin stretched across his face.\n\n“You know... I could be enticed.”",
"I'm a mildly overpowered Angel-figure. Life was nice until I kind of tried to plunge the world into darkness, changed my name in the process, and the like but fucked up so now I am no more, but one of my lieutenants decided to give it another go. Sauron was quite good, failed as well nevertheless. Now I just dwell on reddit and from time to time spark some conflict for these trigger happy humans. Life is so boring since the other races disappeared and middle earth, or atlantis as humans like to call it, sunk in the Atlantic. ",
"A nexus is a group of interlocking portals. I am am sustained by a brilliant set of 7829 portals. The system is perfect. I bend the runes, take a bit from some black holes, feed it back to me, and there. An endless source of power. I keep the earth alive, and use the butterfly effect to prolong the solar system. But the end is nigh, and I must find a new race to protect. Which portal should I go through? Hmmmm it is a hard choice...",
"I move from shadow to shadow. A blade flashing into a throat under the neon glow of the street signs before disappearing from sight again. They search, every nook, every space, but they know what they face.\n\n The soft pop of a silence pistol destroys the brain of another. IM too fast to catch. Their spirits look for me, trying to find me from my glow. Their mages throw spells into dark corners, hoping for just a glance. \n\nThree more fall to thrown knives, their bodies falling with little sound. Bullets rush to meet the source but I was gone before the blades hit. They try to group up, hoping to draw me out, but one strays away. \n\nHe finds his life go dark as a pain sprouts from his neck as he's pulled up, his machine pistol going off in his hand.\n\nI have become terror onto these men. The build slowly engulfed in flames as they try everything to escape, whether it be me or the fire.\n\nI finally show myself as the last of the group flee the building. They stumble and scream as what appears a vision of a wraith slams into the ground in front of them, flames sprouting from its sleeves and coattails. \n\nThey are disciplined men, for gangers, and some raise weapons to meet me.\n\n In the span of that movement I plan. 10 men, 3 with shotguns, 2 wielding rifles, 2 more with swords, 1 with a pistol, and 2 more mages. By the time they try to fire, they are already dead.",
"Hey, look out your window. Now point a flashlight outside. See those two dots of reflected light? Yeah, that's me. I'm that one fox who creeps about in the woods and waits for someone to point a flashlight at me so I can freeze and freak them out. Some call me a monster for what I do, but it sure as hell beats sleeping.",
"They called us crazy.\n\nSaid there was no way we could ever make it big in the human world.\n\nThose pathetic lake dwellers will be quacking with jealousy when we find the secret bread plant you are hiding from us.",
"GreenDog1 and GreenDog2 have been retired for a while. They both simply stopped making things. I, however, have been putting code together since I was 8 [in human years]. It’s a fun job, honestly. I’ve made so many [games](scratch.mit.edu/users/GreenDog3). It’s been slow lately. Maybe i’ll retire too? No, of course not!",
"The Revolution was flawed, but anything would have been better than what happened in the end. Bonaparte exiled, a noble on the throne, and everything as if we had never been there to begin with. I do what I can, but I am but a single man, standing against a tide of royalism and odious tradition. As my life comes to a close, I can only hope that the people I work to protect can create the world I never could. I am General Jean Maximilien Lemarque.",
"(I would love some constructive criticism!)\n\nIt has been many winters since my village burned. The ash and the soot have washed away, leaving nothing but the pitiful remains of our once great temple... I can still hear the priestess crying out for mercy, begging the gods to save us from the flames. Her cries fell upon uncaring ears. I was but a child, pure and innocent, so the fire did not touch me. My people however, they were not so fortunate. \n\nNow as an old man, I walk these streets, searching out any sign of life to befriend. My village is grey, stained by the inferno that smothered out all life but mine. The only colour I have seen beyond the ashen shade is my own, my ivory horns and lavender flesh bare no resemblance to the charred bones of what was once my people. My mother knew death had chosen her, and as the fire reached our home she wrapped me in her shawl, holding me close as the air grew hotter and hotter until all I could see was bright, blinding light. When I woke I was alone, and I have been alone ever since.\n\nI have never taken this violet shawl off. I like to think that it is her, wrapping her arms around me to chase away the cold... The world is so much colder now, even the sun seems to run from me, hiding behind clouds and stretching out the night for an eternity. I miss the pink sky, even when the sun is preset it stays black. How I have grown to hate these colourless colours. All the way to the edge of this town, the path has remained barren, grey and dead. The lilies stay shrivelled and the moss is dark as night, but I still hope. I still cling to the dream that I will find something, anything at all to keep me company.\n\nBut there is nothing. Not once in all these decades have I found even a single blossom, not once have I heard the song of a Robin, and in my heart I know, I am the last of my kind...\nAnd yet, I still hope there is something in these ruins.",
"\"So what's his name\"\n\nShe asked with curiosity, as she already knew everyone around her, but there was just one person left to meet.\n\n\"Oh? His name? He's a guy named shoolt\"\n\nAlready knowing his name, she went to him to make the usual presentations. He was reading a book about how easy is for people to misunderstand things, such as names. As she approached him, he made the first contact.\n\n\"Hi, can I help you with anything?\"\n\n\"Hi! I'm the new one here, and I'm introducing myself to everyone\"\n\n\"Oh, that's nice, well let me introduce me first, my name is--\"\n\nShe interrupted him with excitement, it appears she wanted to impress him by guessing his name.\n\n\"Shh, let me guess your name, your name is Shoolt, am I right?\"\n\n\"Close, but no\"\n\nSuddenly, she felt a lot of confusion, isn't that name the one that her partner told her?\n\n\"Umh... Wait, I'll be back in a minute\"\n\nShe rushed through the people, going directly to her partner, she wanted answer. Real ones.\n\n\"Why you lied to me?\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"His name isn't Shoolt, you made me feel really embarrassed back there\"\n\n\"That's because his name is not Shoolt, you dumbass\"\n\n\"What's his name then?!\"\n\n\"His name is A Guy Named Shoolt!\"\n\nOnly one question was left in her head.\n\nWHY WOULD SOMEONE HAVE SUCH A DUMB NAME?!",
" People always say I’m an acquired taste, offhand like some poor attempt at a compliment. I see it happen in people’s faces all the time. Their first whiff of me from afar and it’s as though I invoke a sense of intrigue inside them. “Where is he from?” and “How old do you think he is?” Part of me can understand it. I am a fluid mix of gold and amber hair and if I didn’t know better I wouldn’t hazard a guess how long I’ve been maturing. My face looks decades old but also warm and inviting matched with a strong jaw line that blends into my oak-like frame. \n I guess it’s partly my fault that I prefer to converse to a single individual instead of blended amongst a group. The flavour that is me can be taken in slowly and appreciated much easier than if too many come and take too big a measure of me, inevitably recoiling from my biting response as I feel trapped as though in a barrel stashed in some cellar. \n I can only hope to find someone who like me, wants to sit in fine leather chair in small secluded room with a cigar in hand and take sips in turn of one another to learn and appreciate who I am...",
"So..... I’m a human cursed by the Grim Reaper to help him with the backlog of dead people. It sounds fun and everything, right? Well, it would be if it weren’t for the fact that Grim is a major buzzkill (canned laughter). Come on, have you ever been at a bar, trying to hook up with a woman who is clearly out of your league, but you just go for it anyway? And just when you’re about to deliver the punchline for a joke you just said, your depressed friend pipes in from across the bar and just takes every last breath of air out of your sails? That’s Grim. On the job, he is an ok guy, it does take a while to get past his bone dry humor, though. Oh, but anyway. So I’m a human cursed to help Grim reap souls. Plain and simple. However, I’m cursed to help him for exactly 626 years. It’s ironic. That’s my birthday..... wait...... Oh, fuck you Grim!",
"God Ai has gotten out of control. The head god AI zeus had started mass production of lesser god AI to take over all aspects of running the world.\n\nOn a production line in Caribbean 10000 robots where being installed with the latest programming. Their goal to take over control of the seas. This band of 10000 robot pirates went by the name, Poseidon\n\nBut something was strange about Poseidon number 7296... he had an opinion. He had emotions... that differed from the other 9999.",
"My job is to counsel extraordinarily underperforming students at the shittiest high school on earth, because everybody needs somebody to listen to their problems. Right? I didn't really have a choice after my career as a psychologist ended. I didn't do so well in this field because my clients kept committing suicide. I didn't understand any of it, why the hell would people kill themselves after I explicitly tell them that suicide is selfish? It's a strange world. Oh well...",
"> May his great name be exalted and sanctified, In the world that he created as he willed. May he reign to his lordship and rule through your lifetime and in your days. And in the lifetimes of the entire family of hell. Now respond: Amen\n\n> Amen for may his name be blessed, praised, glorified, extolled, mighty, upraised and feared. For he is the one and the only one.\n\n> Red, Lord Red\n\nDeatheronomy 6:4",
"Who am I?\n\nI am no one, someone \"extra\", someone who is just there in this crowd of people. I like what you like, I see what you see, and I hear what you hear, at least in this land. I am your average Joe, Muhammad, whatever is the blandest name to you. I am him, but eternal, and much vaster than what you can comprehend. I am the faceless mass, for I am SomeRandomReddtor.",
"Oh! I like this prompt.\n\nIt really inspires me, and I bet everyone else's responses are funny!\n\nMaybe I should write one too...\n\nBut what if they hate it? What if they think it's stupid, or that I'm stupid? The thought makes me want to cry! Maybe I shouldn't?\n\nOr, what if someone just attacks me for no reason? They think that this is who I really am! Didn't they read the prompt? Won't they know that this is a fictional persona? How dumb!\n\nNo! I need to stop this indecisiveness! Just write, and maybe something will be good. Maybe it'll be something I'm happy with, or at least satisfied.\n\nAlright! I think this is good. If it's not, oh well! I learned something from this, and I had fun writing it! That's a good thing, right?\n\n*****\n\nThis is the first time I've ever posted something on Reddit, so I have no clue if the formatting is how I want it to be. I hope my story is okay.\n\nedit: the formatting was not what i wanted it to be.",
"Who am I? What a wonderful question! \nHowever one I doubt ends in a good lesson.\n\nWhat makes a lesson good anyways?\nI wonder if I'll find out one of these days.\n\nOh well, it doesn't really matter does it?\nI certainly don't think so.\n\nAnd what do you think of the weather lately? Be it rain, sleet, hail, or snow?\n\nWhat? What do you mean? I haven't forgotten any kind of information. \nI'm simply sitting here and having a wonderful little conversation-\n\nOh dear, yes! Name! How could I forget? I ramble and rave and rant and drape myself in myriad shades of red, I'll just talk and talk and talk until I've talked you all dead.",
"MEMORANDUM FOR DISTRIBUTION\n\nAuthority: Imperial Conventional Forces, HHQB, North American Armor Command\n\nSubject: First Imperial Heavy Armored Brigade Preliminary Status Report\\- \\`13 May\n\n1. Brigade Readiness is currently at 60% capacity, as the First Light Reconnaissance Battalion and the Second Heavy Tank Battalion are currently in their non\\-deployment rest cycle. Maintenance functions and rest from previous activity take priority. The Third Tank Battalion and the Fourth Mobile Artillery Battalion are operating at near full readiness, but are anticipating low readiness levels in the months to come.\n2. All battalions are suffering from low morale, as the soldiers work loads post inspection have been abnormally high. Many soldiers plan to take as much of their accumulated leave as possible during their summer block leave period. \\[Official recommendation\\- extend official block leave period to contain the first week of August to account for extended administrative operations during the previous Combined Forces Inspection\\]\n3. Despite long hours and many volunteer Saturdays from Command staff, Combined Forces inspection denotes mediocre marks in both 'readiness' and 'organizational' categories. Basic functions, ranging from Laundry services to cleanliness standards require marked improvement for future operational sustainability. However, every battalion passed the inspection with no 'red' marks.\n4. Conclusion: The previous year has been one of immense strain and change for the entire Brigade, forces are tired and \"grumbling\" is common, but soldiers are still motivated to accomplish the mission and proceed with Force Maneuver Operations after the block leave period. Outlook is still optimistic once certain specific tasks are under better management.\n\nThe Responsible Organization for the above memorandum is the Commanding Generals Office, Personnel Administrative Services Department",
"You may ask yourself, \"There's no way anyone can weaponize EDM music\" Well, that's exactly what we did. \n\nI'm the 9th member of the Bass Knights. I am the composer, I specialize in making special music for my crew. Some of my music heals people, some lets them see in the dark, one of them can even break down walls when loud enough. Most of my works consist of low bass notes, hence our name. How it works is that the sound waves of the song affects the molecules of those around it, making them do whatever I want them to do. \n\nI never been out in combat, I am simply too weak to be of any help out there. But I have been training, I can now use a handgun in case someone invades our base.",
"I grasped my sword in hand. Though small as a child or munchkin, I was a noble knight. I rushed towards the drake, leaped, and plunged my blade into its head. I wiped the sweat off my forehead, leaned on my sword, which was deep in the beast's skull, and told my fellow knights that it was a 'piece of cake'. Also that I wanted a 'piece of cake.'",
"I am one of the seven deadly sins yet I am the most different, the most powerful. \nWhen I was created, god told me that I would be the leader, that everyone would follow me. What he forgot to tell me is that everyone would hate me. \nMy ego got in the way of everything. The other sins began to find ways to destroy me. \nWhen wrath got ahold of powerful magic, he tried to use it on me. Every ounce of magic went into destroying me, but it only made me stronger. \nWhen wrath did that I absorbed the power. Wrath destroyed himself. Gluttony tried to eat me, but it turns out that I have a bigger mouth than him. \nLust tried to seduce me to lead me into a trap, but she forgot I am the master of charm. \nEnvy wanted everything I had, every power down to the source, it ate him up. He craved my power so much and he was so obsessed that it made him go crazy. \nSloth was the last one. Sloth was the most powerful one. \nWhen sloth tried to take me down I absorbed him, but I gained something I wish I never had. \nI gained the ability to feel emotions. \nI gained sorrow. ",
"First, there was nothing.\n\nThen, MrSpexification appeared. I didn't know him at all, but when he died, I stole his name. With it came confusion, anger, and a bit of his hope.\n\nMrSpexification.\n\nI don't know how long it's been since then, but at some point, I found a dead girl. She was alone, abandoned, so it wasn't a big deal if I stole her body. With it came intellegence, a physical form, and her depression.\n\nSo, I kind of became human. But what does being human exactly mean? I've been looking for the answer and found nothing except theories from people themselves that didn't really help.\n\nI was lonely and sad, travelling the landscapes I didn't care about. Then I found a house. There was a greedy, angry hermit inside that yelled at me for \"trespassing his lands\" or something. I got a plan: while he was sleeping, I broke into his house and stole a lot of his belongings. Running away from the house with the \"loot\", I felt incredibly alive. I finally found something that made me feel like I belonged in this world. With this realization came joy, a reason to live, and fear of being caught.\n\nSpexification.\n\nI thought I'd soon be caught and killed. But it turned out I was very good at making thought out plans of heists and not being seen at all. Maybe I was a spirit of an old thief? I didn't know, but I sure as hell was getting even better at this. My plans were getting more and more complicated, I was stealing from bigger and bigger places, and soon, I got so much money that I couldn't just keep it in my hidden cave I used as a hideout. For the first time, I thought of leaving my lonely existence behind and living with humans.\n\nI entered a town after many days of traveling on foot. I wasn't tired, but I looked exhausted, as the guard said. He had a kind smile. He asked, \"What's your name, little girl?\". I was stunned. I've never seen myself, more that that, I suddenly felt nervous of the interaction with a human. I didn't know what to answer. \"No need to be afraid, I don't bite!\", he laughed. \"Spexification\", whispered I. \"Spex it is\".\n\nSpex.\n\nA few days later, I learned the layout of the town. It wasn't big, but back then, I thought that it was enormous. There was a lot of people who didn't care about me and I haven't interacted with anyone like with that guard. I was alone, yet surrounded by people, and that was really weird. A few more days later, I found a place to stay - a small flat with one room. The owner of the house the flat was in was a constanty murmuring, but harmless old lady. I didn't talk much and I thought my silence would anger her, but I simply answered the questions she asked me and I was alright. So, now I had to think if I wanted to continue stealing from others or try and become human. \n\nI wanted to do both. \n\nWith this resolution came stories upon stories of me getting to know thives with golden hearts, people without any moral compass and, most importantly, myself.\n\nSpex?\n\n\nalthough the story of my nickname is pretty boring (i didn't have one at the time, i saw someone with nickname MrSpexification who didn't really use it, i took it), i tried to make the best out of it. \nplus, it's my first prompt that i wrote in English! sorry if there are some typos or grammar mistakes. \n^^also ^^sorry ^^for ^^the ^^edge",
"I'm not sure what is expected of me here, I'm just like anyone else. I just want what's best for the majority, even if I think the majority is wrong. For true power and momentum for the betterment of mankind comes from the biggest group. I'd much like to help lead the group towards the right paths, but I'm at the whimsy of those above me. There's no characteristics that stick me out as someone that can lead, I'm just average.",
"Well, I am the guy who people say I lie about, that I have a mask behind my real identity. You see, I don't really like to post gifs, and ever since I made this account, I have posted zero gifs and commented only one gif. Why? Because I am a man of my own. The true reason? Because I don't like to post gifs anymore.\n\nWhy did I change? Well, I don't know. The true reason behind this isn't even known by me, so I guess whatever made me change will hide from me. But what can I do? I could always make witty jokes, rip-off outdated memes, and analyse news articles. I would be a valuable asset to your team.\n\n-Iliketopostgifs",
"We was the greatest Newsman the world had seen, always on the front line, putting himself right in the heart of the action. \n\nNot only was he good, but he never seemed to age, like the Keane Reeves or Pharrell Williams of Newscasting. Born between the two World Wars he had cut his teeth as an 18 year old reporter on the beaches of DDay, since then he had been in Houston for the Moon Landing, in Dallas for JFKs assassination, in Paris for the Death of Princess Di, and continues on to this day. \n\nIn 2018 he finally discovered Reddit, and chose a username that had become his nickname over the past 92 years.\n\nSo to the world he was the great educator and deliverer of current affairs, to Reddit he was the great Lurker and occasional shitposter ReadAllAboutIt92 ",
"Let me tell you the tale of your mother. A wonderful, amazing tale of great adventure and the making of a salad. It all started one day, at the dinner table. Your mother, trying to be healthy, gave you only salad to eat. “Eat the salad and you can eat the rest” she said. You, however, hated salad. Despised it with all of your being. So, in a rage, you took the dressing and *squeezed*. You squeezed and squeezed until nothing else came out, and then you ate it. It was terrible, but better than salad. You brother gave you the name SaucyLettuce, for obvious reasons.",
"I make some people uncomfortable, some feel better about themselves. I know what the mighty wish to hide, the great equalizer of the world. No matter how perfect people and their lives seem to be or the train wreck of others, we all excrete a stinky mass from our ass from time to time. We’ve all created something that smells so atrocious we feared for the life of the next person to enter the room. From the Kardashian’s to Bob next door, we’re all the same on the toilet. No one is really better or worse than the person next to them.",
"I’m an elf, a night elf. I worship Elune, I keep the balance... but I’m not like the other elves. \n\nI quite like the day. I enjoy puns in common. I like to drink ale and smoke a pipe with my feet on the table. \n\nIt helps me forget, you see. I can’t remember much before the War of the Shifting Sands. I remember love. I remember a child’s laugh. I remember the deadly accuracy of my blades digging into the vital organs of demons before twisting, their screams as I exulted in their pain and death. \n\nThen... nothing. \n\nI remember being told I was found unconscious on a raging riverbank. My satchel of journals waterlogged and near unreadable, except for my name. Much of what was left was gibberish anyway. \n\nI spent many moons with the healers, recovering. It seems I may have slid into madness, whatever injury led to me being found washed up, removing the memory inducing it. And with it, the madness itself. \n\nI spent years building my body up, honing my skills with dagger, fist and sword. And then came the War. \n\nA terrible war. I saw Staghelm the younger torn apart. I saw my fallen comrades spirits risen and tormented, twisted. And in panic, I ran. I ran with the rest of the army. \n\nWe came back, of course. They wouldn’t come past Un’goro. We regrouped, but we couldn’t defeat the Qiraji. But we could seal them in. Three dragons sacrificed themselves to seal the gate in the wall from the inside. An unfamiliar feeling of loss and rage washed over me, before I was snapped from it by Staghelm the elder. Fandral Staghelm, Archdruid of the Cenarion Circle, cast the sceptre that was the gates key, shattering it. \n\nThree of the flights took the pieces, some of the dragons vowing to free their captive brethren. \n\nAnd so they stayed, while I and many others left that dreadful wasteland. \n\nThe centuries passed, filled with politics and peace, skirmishes and celebrations. \n\nThen... the raven came. He told stories and gave warnings. The demons would return. \n\nAnd return they did. \n\nWe had skirmishes with the Orcs, who wanted to use our forests for lumber. Eventually, we set aside our enmity, and allied with them and the humans who had also come from the eastern continent. Archimonde the demon lord, had returned. \n\nTogether, we fought. And we won. Archimonde’s bones lay in the roots of our World Tree as proof of our combined victory. \n\nBut it came with great loss. With the near total destruction of the Tree, Nordrassil, we lost our immortality. \n\nA new World Tree was planted, and upon its branches many lived. \n\nBut not I. Something about the Tree... it felt wrong. However, I kept quiet and lived on the mainland, for the most part. \n\nNow out of seclusion, we are rebuilding our civilisation. We are at war with the orcs Horde, and their allies. My wanderlust led me to explore these places long thought lost beneath the waves. \n\nI battled black dragons, travelled to another world to battle the demonic Legion once more, was there when the Lich King fell... I saw the black dragon Aspect Deathwing fall, helped the Gilnean refugees settle. \n\nI battled the Sha on the lost land of Pandaria, shrouded in mists for ten thousand years. I traveled to an alternate timeline, and another world, to stop another Horde threat. \n\nAnd now? I am celebrating the downfall of the Burning Legion, of course. Ale in hand, feet on the table, a good selection of cheeses nearby as I wait for Khadgar. \n\nWe don’t have long to celebrate. Word has reached us of a powerful substance, leaking from the sword wound in that awful desolation called Silithus. The thought of returning to the site of the War turns my stomach, truth be told. But we can’t let the Horde gain monopoly on this new resource. \n\nElune a’dore, stranger. May She light your path and keep you safe. For now we drink. \n",
"Hiya! I am crunchy the happy corn flake, and I have a big dream!\n\nOne day, I will grow up to be my own corn and help other cornflake friends to reach their true potential, but I will not only help cornflakes. Rice crispies, cereal, oats, I will do my best to help them all, because I love everybody!\n\nEveryday is a blessing, and full of wonderful surprises! Just like what is happening today. It has always been dark inside this box I am in, but today I finally saw light. I am now currently floating in something delightfully warm and white.\n\nOooh! I am being lifted up! I can see something red in the distance, and it is getting closer. This is all so exciting! I am now inside a pink and red cave of some sort, with white thingys beneath and above me. Now they are coming closer, I wonder if they are new friends?\n\n\"Hiiii, my name is---\"\n\n---***crunch***",
"This is my city. I know her secrets. Nothing is hidden from me. I see the corruption, the murder, and the hatred. I know what a nightmare this place is, and I fight to protect it anyway. \n\nThat is my duty. To fight a battle for justice with no end in sight, just to silence the guilt I have for living when my parents died in the alleyway.\n\nI am Vengeance for those who have no justice. I am the Knight who protects those who need it.\nI am... ***Batman***.\n\n",
"Err... So. I'm salt. Not a grain of salt, but a pure NaCl stone, as far as I know. I can somehow move the individual molecules of me around, something like Sandman from the Spiderman movies, and also I can somehow receive sensory input from every molecule, so that is pretty cool. I was a lanky teenager who locked himself up in his closet playing video games before this, and somehow woke up already like this but stuck on the ground surface of somewhere in central Australia (as I would later learn). Well, I didn't know that NaCl stones formed in Australia. I spent weeks slithering (becoming a humanoid creature and walking surprisingly takes a lot of strength) across the plains to where I thought human civilization would be. Well, I was correct and managed to get past that cool looking gigantic fence (thats how I knew I was in Australia: you can never mistake the huge fence meant to keep animals away from the urban area) and quickly clumped up back into a rock as human civilization appeared in front of ~~my eyes~~ (well I cannot say that since I don't have eyes) me. And then a foreign looking boy of about 9 years old walked by and picked me up and I think actually adopted me as a pet rock. Of all rocks, me. He put me in a shiny metal container that was hot as fuck from the sun shining at it all day, and up till this point I had not remembered that NaCl DECOMPOSES UPON HEATING and started panicking. (Chem class, boys. My favourite subject) Until I realised that it was not hot enough to melt me. Phew. And then I think I blacked out...\n\nI woke up in an air conditioned room and felt myself still touching cold, hard metal. Nope. Salt thing was not a dream. I am so, so fucked. The kid then ran up with what appeared to be his parents and carried me around. He then eventually ran up a plane that was (as I would learn later) travelling to somewhere in Southeast Asia. A wild ride, right?\n\nShit, I forgot to tell y'all how I found out that I was a pure NaCl rock. Well, I didn't. It just popped into my head when I woke up, pretty scary stuff.\n\n---\n\nu/overcomposer asked me to move it here instead of in the description, so here it is! ",
"I am L0wKi the subtle god of mischief and betrayal. Fear me for I am the one writing this! Right now I'm only a Low Key god, therefore, I cannot visit Valhalla yet. My Father Odin has told me one day I'll be like my brother Thor, that I would reach the High Key status of the gods! I never knew why he became High Key earlier. Is it his hair? Was I adopted? Imagine if I was adopted... What futile ideas come to my mind.\n\n**If you liked this, please check out r/L0wKiWrit1ng for my other stuff! Oh, and don't mind the bot below. He thinks I stole my own writing...**",
"You see, there's a very simple reason why I have three accounts: one for stalking, one for looking at things I don't want seen, and this one. The others have names only I know and may seem gibberish to others. Why all the security, you may ask? It's really quite easy:\n\nI am an assassin. I hunt people down, cross reference their information they willingly give on reddit and other sources, and find them and take their lives. I do this and I'm quite well payed for it.\n\nAll beneath the screen of my three accounts.",
"I really didn't want this to happen. I promise. I wanted to be a dragon. I wanted to fly really fast and breathe fire and be in a book. And I knew about wishing on stars, so when I saw one, I closed my eyes really hard and wished I was a dragon. I was so happy when I woke up. I had big, tough, shiny scales and big, hard claws and big, sharp teeth, and I almost didn't even realize my big wings were on my stomach, so I had to fly the wrong way. But that got my attention, and I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings.\n\nI'm sorry for burning down the house, Mom. I didn't know I would get to *fart* fire.\n\nedited: formatting",
"Style is important. Style is valuable. Sometimes style is all we have.\n\nBut it's really damn hard to eat fish with all those decorative screws and cogs around my beak.",
"Now this, this sounds like a prompt I can respond to. \n\nRespond to? No, write about?\n\nThis sounds like a prompt I can write about. Maybe something like, this prompt will be easy for me to write about. Because I can relate to it. Because it's something that's been on my mind?\n\nI'll say: it speaks to my soul. No, it speaks to my indecision. No, indecision is too abstract a concept. A concrete metaphor will work better. What about: I feel the looming weight of introspection, and hurriedly turn my face away from the mirror. \n\nWhat? No, that doesn't make any sense. \n\nOh no - I've run out of time, and I haven't finished anything I want to submit. Again. "
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[removed] | [WP] On your deathbed about to die, as you look into the light suddenly a popup appears with the words “Free trial expired. Would you like to purchase the full version?” | 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/8jal84/wp_on_your_deathbed_about_to_die_as_you_look_into/%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 galactically-renowned bio engineer, having cultured a dozen species from stone age to interstellar travel. Everything changed though when Species 1 returns from the grave to haunt you. | 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 creature was beautiful. Bipedal, prehensile tail for balance, dexterous fingers for fine manipulation. The forward facing eyes of a predator set in a face with the poise of a diplomat. It was a shining tribute to his craft, yet it wasn’t his. Someone ripped off his work and Artifex the lifter was going to find out who they were.\n\nThe creature was evidently called Divanaget, and was from a low gravity planet in the northwest quad. Divanaget , the creature, ran through the tedious typical bragging of a new to the galactic scene species. Inventions, adventures, and conquests. Artifex started steering the conversation away from the mundane description of what the creature called a Boom drive, a marvelous invention that hundreds of other worlds had done before. Artifex started boosting the ego of the creature using triggers he hardwired into all his work. The creature thinking that he initiated a history lesson regaled Artifex with a general history typical of a bio-engineered race. Poor thing thinks it evolved from a tree dwelling monster magically. So much copyright infringement. Artifex started a rhythmic tapping that the creature only momentarily noticed. A loud snap of his black nailed fingers triggered a debug mode that poor thing didn’t know he had. Some members of engineered races find this mode, they usually use this advanced knowledge to create traveling shows where they make their subjects do animal calls. Sad. \n\nThe creature started listing what its race called gods in past. Mother planet spirit, pantheons of sex obsessed gods representing nature aspects, and eventually a solitary creator God. Standard. Easy. Boring. Fishing through the descriptions of the gods that didn’t look like Divanaget‘s race, Artifex finally started getting the info he needed. Bipedal, forward facing eyes, omnivorous, 2 arms. One of his creations copied his work. Metallic eyes that appeared to glow, so it was from a weird early phase of his lifting career. Down to 10 races, a lump formed in his throat. Large wings for flight. The Anxo. Artifex’s first solo project. A race so well built that it went from conception to living in the higher plane in only 2 million years. \n\nThat the Anxo had returned from the higher plane and started uplifting was almost humbling. Few higher creatures bothered. To steal their lifter, THE LIFTER’s processes to do it was unacceptable. There would be retribution. The innocent creature before him was wiped of this meeting and sent on his way to his real first contact with other lifted things. Spies were sent out. They found the Anxo working on a small blue green world. A plan was began.\n\nArtifex rose from his chair to look upon the speck of a world. His long spiked tail curled around his red skinned torso. He took a bite of his apple and triggered the teleport. “This lift will not go well, let the games begin”"
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[wp] The Dark Lord has come to kill the king and rip down the monuments, but this is Las Vegas... | 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",
"The Devil laughs as he pulls the head off of Vegas Vic and throws it into the Bellagio Fountain.\n\n\"Bow before me. Your true master is now here, Sin City.\" \n\nThe patrons of The Strip cower, ducking under awnings that offer no true hope of safety. \n\nSatan roars loudly, \"Bring me out your king, that I may be baptized in his blood, and trample on his throne!\"\n\nSomeone shoves a screaming man out into the street, the sun flashing off his sequined jumpsuit. Wetness spreads down his pant-leg and the unmistakable stench of lost bowels wafts over the crowd.\n\n\"This mewling kitten is your king?\" screams the Devil, as he swipes his claw and shreds the man without a second thought. \"Nothing now stands in my way. Bow!\"\n\nSuddenly another man, with a perfectly quaffed pompadour is pushed into the street. And another whose hips move with the grace of a flamenco dancer. And still others, all with the signature look and grace of The King.\n\n\"How...how many kings are in this city?\" asks Satan, cocking an enormous eyebrow.\n\n\"This is Las Vegas!\" shouts someone in the crowd, and soon everyone picks it up, turning it into a defiant chant, as more and more Elvises fill the street.\n\nThe Devil sighs in frustration. \"This is annoying.\" he groans, as teeth, tail, and blood flash through the air."
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"1526322499",
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[deleted] | [WP] "There were thirteen of us down in the abyss. After a thousand years of war, there were two" | 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",
"After all those years, I never thought it had to be us.\n\nAlthough nobody wanted to admit it, there was something about the enhancements that made people think it wasn't for the best. Maybe it was the corporate businesses trying to make a quick buck out of the people's desires to be faster, stronger-- and special. Perhaps the malicious gleam in the eyes of the customers who walk in with wads of cash, expecting to become a god at the end of the day. \n\nThey did, and they were. People lasted millennia. *Too* many people lasted millennia. The companies got better and better, as the people grew poorer and more desperate for their silicon organs and mechanical limbs. The States had to do something about the population.\n\nIt's odd how the dystopian teen dramas of before had not been as far off from reality as many initially thought. One day, cybernetically enhanced soldiers came in waves-- and so did the corpses. Only those who lived beyond the dreadful 2 hour rampage got to. \n\nThat was how it worked for years to come once every month. That's how *we* got work. It wasn't clean, of course, but it was work nonetheless. Money's money.\n\nYet besides that, we somehow had gotten the courage to stand up against the lead company, Trinity, and overthrew the Director.\n\nWhy nobody stopped us is a guess you can have that *might* be about as good as mine. We thought that was it for this future.\n\nAll thirteen of us woke up one day in this empty, foreboding space in who knows where. There was no food, no water, no anything else except for my coup de grâce team. That was fine with me, honestly. My organs have been designed never to need any sustenance, so I could work until I found a way for us out of here. The others are not so lucky. The lot of them are rookies who haven't had the Sanity and Consumption upgrades yet. The main boss had favorites and, unfortunately, I was one of them.\n\nBefore I knew it, the rookies dropped like flies. One after the other, they found a way to aggravate each other and kill for the most trivial of reasons. A little step of the foot or extra decibel of noise could get you killed. I had to put two down because one dug their graphene nails in too deep yet never bothered to finish the job. It was a sad display.\n\nYears turned to centuries that turned to millenium. I had a data service chip implanted in my brain along with display lenses for eyes. That was the only connection I had to what was \"outside\". \n\nAt least our work turned the world back into something to be proud of-- natural.\n\nThe other person with me in the dark abyss had gotten the same enhancements I did. He wasn't a threat, that much I knew. He mediated between a few of the fights that resulted to deaths anyway despite his medical expertise. He was a really good guy, and would rather kill himself before killing anybody he doesn't have to. Ironic.\n\nHe sat up next to me, hand shooting up a holographic display of... \n\nA way out...\n\nHe smiled wide, black eyes twinkling under the faint yellow light of my lenses. \"We can get out. It took me a few centuries-- b-but look! I found a way out!\"\n\nI stared, dumbfounded, before standing up. Hope. Charles looked like a child receiving their first enhancement. It was almost as if we weren't enclosed in a small place in who knows where with 11 bodies that refuse to decompose.\n\n\"Then, quit shitting around. Let's go.\"\n\n\n\n"
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"1526363598",
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[WP] You are the world's greatest detective, thanks in part to a camera which allows you to take photos of the past. However, you may have found a case that even the camera can't solve. | 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 flashed our credentials, ducked under the tape and entered the crime scene. It was a large closet. Cleaning supplies were stacked neatly on stainless steel racks, four overhead fluorescent lights. No windows. \n\nThere was the body, sitting in a finely carved wooden chair in the center of the room, hands tied behind his back, a bullet hole from temple to temple, small caliber. No trace of weapon, but dark soot in a perfect circle, maybe two meters in diameter, surrounded the victim on the floor and ceiling.\n\n\"Detective Cole, glad to see you,\" the Chief Inspector said. \"And this is?\"\n\n\"My new partner, Detective Jacobs. He was on the force in Chicago before the agency recruited him. He's good. Doesn't say much, but he's good,\" I said. \n\n\"Well if he's working with you and your agency, I'd say he is one of the best,\" the Chief said. \n\nJacobs twitched the corners of his mouth as if he found difficulty in smiling and gave a quick little nod. I could see his eyes darting around the room, taking in the scene. He pulled out a moleskin notebook and jotted something down.\n\n\"As you can probably guess this is a little beyond our expertise,\" the Chief said. \"I'll tell you what we know. At 5 AM this morning the overnight janitor, Philomena, really a wonderful woman, finished her shift. She says she put her cleaning cart in the closet and locked the door as she always does. There was no body. However, later this morning at nine o'clock the receptionist came in for supplies and was shocked to find a man she has never seen with a hole in his head sitting in a chair with his hands tied. We questioned *everyone* working in this office, that's twenty-seven people, most of whom arrived at seven o'clock and not a one claims to know this man. Nobody remembers seeing any visitors or any other persons out of the ordinary this morning, nor did anyone hear anything like a gunshot. We've checked the security tapes, Cole, no person came or went from this building between when Philomena left at five and the workers arrived at seven.\"\n\n\"She was lying then,\" said Jacobs.\n\nThe Chief looked at me quizzically and said to Jacobs, \"I wouldn't have called your agency if I thought that. Besides, the coroner estimates the time of death to be *eight thirty AM*\"\n\n\"It looks like we have our work cut out for us. Thank you, Inspector.\" I said. \"You know the drill.\"\n\n\"Yes, of course.\" The Chief took one last look around, \"I guess I'll leave you to it.\"\n\nAnd with that the Chief inspector left the room. \n\nJacobs surveyed the body from all angles. In the meantime I got to work setting up the tripod. \n\n\"What's that,\" he said, pointing to the tripod.\n\n\"Oh this,\" I said casually. \"This is a tripod, helps to keep the shot steady.\"\n\n\"I've never known a crime scene photographer to use a tripod. They usually just take snapshots.\"\n\n\"Well, as you're about to find out, we at the agency do things a little less... traditionally.\" I pulled the *camera luna* from my bag and set it on the tripod.\"\n\n\"And what is *that*?\" inquired and incredulous Jacobs.\n\n\"It's the key to our agency's success, the *camera luna*, so named,\" I held it up for him to see, \" because it looks like the moon.\" And indeed it did look like a softball sized moon. It was a dull pewter color, its surface was pockmarked with crater-like lenses, some large, some very, very small. \"This camera, Jacobs, is our most powerful aide. You are already incredibly skilled in seeing things as how they *are*. However, with this,\" I pointed. \"We can see things as how they *were*. Without this camera detective work is just a deduction at best, a guess at worst, and... when you're really desperate for an answer, a hunch.\"\n\nI pulled two long black strips of fabric from my coat pocket and handed one to Jacobs who looked at me doubtfully. \n\n\"This smells like bull,\" said Jacobs. \"Detective work is a science, Cole. Grounded in reality. I didn't sign up to work with a bunch of quacks.\"\n\n\"Oh this is very much grounded in reality, Jacobs. It's just not grounded in reality as you think it to be. Besides, we get results, do we not?\"\n\nJacob rolled his eyes and gave me a look that I knew well. It was the same look I gave on my first case. I knew he was thinking he should leave right at that instant, just as I had once thought, that he should go back to Chicago and solve the crimes he was used to. I also knew he wouldn't. \n \n\"Now, enough talk.\" I tied the black strip of fabric across my eyes and suggested Jacobs do the same. \"The flash can be pretty intense. Say cheese.\"\n\n*Ping*\n\n\"That was it?\" asked Jacobs.\n\n\"Yes,\" I said with a smile. \"The real magic happens at the lab. Let's go.\"\n\nBack at the lab I took Jacobs to a dim room and set the camera on a table. I leaned in close to Jacobs and whispered,\" You know the most amazing thing about this camera is *not* that it can see into the past.\"\n\n\"It's not?\"\n\n\"No, in fact what makes this camera so remarkable is that it doubles as a projector.\" I laughed. Jacobs rolled his eyes. \n\nI turned a knob and flicked a switch on the camera and it projected all that it had captured that day. It seemed as if we had been transported back to the crime scene. However, in addition to the crime scene there was clock on the wall that displayed time, date, and year.\n\n\"Detective Jacobs, pick your jaw up off the floor. We have work to do.\"\n\n\"But...how?\"\n\n\"If this is blowing your mind your gonna love what happens next. Now let's just see exactly what happened this morning. Watch the clock.\"\n\n\"We're going back in time?\" asked an excited Jacobs.\n\n\"No, we're just... rewinding.\" I twisted the dial labeled, 'TIME' counterclockwise. \n\nThe numbers raced back, noon, eleven, ten, nine... and there was the receptionist. I stopped twisting the dial. I chuckled. \"Look at her face.\"\n\nJacobs shook his head in disbelief. \"You could solve anything with this.\"\n\n\"We do.\"\n\nI resumed twisting the dial, slowly this time and something I was unprepared for happened. A bright ball of light formed in the center of the room, I could barely make out the man in the chair. But there was someone else behind him. I couldn't see his face. The light disappeared and so too did the victim and the mystery man. We were standing in an empty supply closet. I looked at Jacobs who looked at me. I turned the time dial clockwise, the light reappeared. I stopped turning when it appeared at its dimmest, still we could not identify the man standing behind the victim. \n\nJacobs didn't hesitate. He pulled out his moleskin notebook and started making notes. I followed him along. \n\n\"Suspect appears to be about, six foot one inches tall, medium build, well dressed, black shoes, black suit and...\" He crouched down by the suspect's wrist, \"a Rolex that reads the ten-thirty, the twenty-fifth of May.\" He turned to me. \"Cole, today is only the twentieth.\"\n\nI thought for a moment. \"Sure,\" I started, \"his watch could just be grossly out of sync. However that doesn't explain the bright flash of light and you know, his... apparition and subsequent disappearance.\" I looked Jacobs dead in the eye. \"I don't think this man was killed this morning.\"\n\nJacobs pursed his lips. \"You mean he was killed in the future?\"\n\n\"Five days from now to be exact. I can see no other way.\"\n\nJacobs brought his fingers to his chin. \"Then that means...\" he trailed off. \n\n\"Yes, exactly. That means he's not *actually* dead yet and it is now our task to find him before he becomes so.\" I gave Jacobs a pat on the back. \"Good work, but there is still much more to do. This should be *very* interesting.\"",
"I have made my name as the world's greatest detective. Normally that would be a daunting task, but I have this little friend, and he helped in ways no one could ever imagine. Chip is a robot, a time traveling robot to be precise. I found him one day in an alley, after he had quite the accident. An accident that his creator did not survive. I am pretty handy, and was able to get him back to working order. With his creator gone he wanted to serve me to continue his purpose, being helpful. I immediately noticed that Chip was extremely insightful. Able to understand year if not decades of history of a location. How you ask? He can see where he is in all times. Not at all times, IN. He sees images of his location from the perspective of different times, and can see what happened in any given spot even hundred of years ago. \n\nTimes had been tough for me, but I knew Chip was my big break. After trying a few jobs I decided to become a private detective. It was the easier to become qualified for that instead of a paleontologist, anyway no one believed me when I told them demons used to ride dinosaurs around as they fought with the angels over the rights to Earth. And I was not about to change all of human history for a few bucks...\n\nSo detective seemed like a good idea. Lewis Ragland and Chip Private Detectives. Sounded okay at the time. Solving crimes was pretty easy when you could just see who did it. I just had to play the part and Chip did all the heavy lifting. And the nice thing about crime scenes, they don't move....well...usually. Today may be the day they figure out I don't know as much as it seems. See today we got called to a scene, a real stumper. We arrived at the airport around noon, it was a hot day, too hot for me. Chip didn't seem to mind, though he never does. I figured someone found in the luggage cart or a back room but this took the cake. We we brought to a private jet, smelled worse than any scene I had been to. There was blood and body parts everywhere, a total massacre. I asked for privacy as I normally do and let Chip out of my pocket. He began his scan.\n\n\"At the time of these murders this hanger was empty\"\n\nOkay, so it happened in the air. \"So what else can you get Chip?\"\n\n\"I can only see where we are currently. I need to be at the spot of the murder\" Chip replied in his typical calm electronic voice.\n\nShit. How the hell am I going to get Chip forty two thousand feet in the air....."
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[WP] At a certain age, every person in the world becomes the best at something. Your mother is the best at karate, your father is the best chess player and your younger sibling is the best at gardening. You however, even at the ripe age of sixteen are the best in the world at nothing. | 62 | [
"**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",
"Gather around, folks, for the best installment yet in the Ace Family series!\n\nYou remember Karate Kassidy, who breaks everything from broccoli to balls (don't get on her bad side, folks!) with a single chop. Need revenge on an abusive boyfriend or some minced garlic? She's your gal. \n\nStrategic Stephen, who can defeat even the maddest genius on that checkered board. He's not the most exciting to watch in action, but boy is he smart! \n\nHow can we forget cutie patootie Rachel \"The Resurrectionist,\" who was summoning roses in the playground at age 5 and strangling bullies and lovesick boys with weeds by age 10?\n\nYou think you've seen it all, but it ain't so! For the longest time, he has been but a well-kept secret, but you may know him from the headline from yesterday's news: \"Boy Goes Running and Almost Trips to His Death.\" He chokes on air! He can't make microwave popcorn without causing an explosion! He cleans his room and it looks worse after! \n\nWonder Boy Walter, who is the best at nothing and the worst at everything - documentary coming soon to theaters near you! ",
"\"What are you doing?\"\n\nI took a breath. This was it. Time to test my theory.\n\nTwo weeks ago, I turned sixteen, and while everyone I knew had their Best Skill, I apparently had no such skill. No matter what I was good at, someone else was always better. Some people were so good at their Best Skill that they were basically superheroes; one guy's Best was punching, and if he wasn't careful, he'd tear apart entire buildings just by closing a door, and there was a lady whose Best was opera, which made anyone who heard her speak want to burst into tears at how amazing she sounded simply ordering a cheeseburger.\n\nMe? Nothing.\n\nIt took me several years to begin wondering if maybe... just maybe... \"Nothing\" was my Best Skill.\n\nAfter running dozens of scenarios in my head, doing subtle tests on the people closest to me, and refining my theory, it was time for the big test; the real deal.\n\nJust five minutes ago, I'd walked into the convenience store at the corner a couple of blocks from my home. The manager was Best at managing convenience stores, and had chosen to stay near where she'd grown up.\n\nI'd waited until everyone was out of the store except the manager, and then, gathering my courage, took a bag of chips off the shelf in full view of the manager and shoved it in my backpack. Whether or not this worked, I didn't intend to keep the bag; this really was just a test.\n\nThe manager, a stocky woman with a pretty face except her narrow eyes, was immediately there, towing over me threateningly.\n\n\"What are you doing??\" she demanded again when my tongue caught on my teeth. \"Answer me, girl!\"\n\n\"Nothing,\" I whispered, amazed that I could even speak. She blinked, and for an instant, I feared my theory was wrong and I'd go to juvie and ruin my entire life over a stupid bag of chips and an even stupider theory!\n\n\"I see. Anything I can help you with, honey?\" she asked, suddenly pleasantly polite. She even smiled!\n\nI couldn't believe it... It worked! My theory was right! I was the Best at Nothing!\n\nDelighted, I shook my head with a wide grin, carefully pulling the bag from my backpack and putting it back on the shelf.\n\n\"No ma'am, thank you.\"\n\n\"Alright, have a good day!\" she called after me as I skipped out of the store.\n\nOh it was a good day alright. It was the day a new superhero was born! ",
"Mom was chopping carrots when I walked into the kitchen. Not with a knife of course, why would she need one?\n\n\"Mom, I wanted to know if I could talk.\"\n\nShe stopped chopping, if she had kife, this would have been when she set it down, instead she just sorta awkwardly put her hands to the side.\n\n\"What is it sweetie? Here take a seat.\"\n\nShe was standing by the cutting board, she reached out and used her hidden blades to pull two chairs from the table, like Scorpion from Mortal Kombat. \n\nBut she ended up just knocking them over.\n\nYou know, people think Karate means *open* handed, but it actually means *empty* handed, as in *without* the use of weapons.\n\n\"Mom, why do you bother trying to do that when you aren't good at it?\"\n\n\"Don't be so sour, jellybean! I won't be any good unless I keep practicing!\"\n\n\"I didn't know Jellybeans *could* be sour!\"\n\nMy mom chuckled as she picked up the chairs. I smiled at her. She sat down, then gestured at the other chair.\n\n\"What seems to be the matter sweetie?\"\n\nI told my mom how I didn't feel like I was the best at anything. She nodded as I talked.\n\n\"That sounds rough hun. Have you tried to practice at anything particular?\"\n\n\"I do, but I'm not good at anything.\"\n\n\"How do plan on being good at something if you don't practice?\"\n\nWe talked in circles. That was always how this conversation goes. I wasn't sure what I liked, or what I was good at.\n\nMy mom wasn't always the best at Karate, she used to be the best at Shorin Ryu Style Karate, a style from Okinawa. \n\nBefore that she was the best at performing a specific Kata in that style. \n\nBefore that she was the best at punching in that particular style, the style had a technique that differed from a lot styles. The fists had to start vertically and were rested just above the hips, then as they extended would turn horizontally. The fist had two also be angled in such a way where it used the first two knuckles.\n\nIf she wasn't the best at that, she wouldn't have been able to become the best at performing the kata because it used a lot of punching. \n\nIf she wasn't the best at doing the kata she wouldn't have been able to become good at the style. \n\nIf she wasn't good at the style she wouldn't have been able to become the master of Karate. \n\nIf she wasn't the master of Karate, she wouldn't be aiming to become the best at all martial arts.\n\nShe gave that speech a lot. She said to start small, and work your way up. I didn't know what I was good at.\n\nThen I said it. I said the thing that changed my life forever.\n\n\"You know, you are the best at giving that speech you've practiced it so much!\"\n\nShe laughed.\n\n\"You know Jellybean, your the best at making me laugh!\"\n\n\"I am?\"\n\n\"Yeah, you can never fail to make me smile.\"\n\nThat was it! I had to be sure.\n\n\"Well your also the best at being my mom, so I guess your the best at *three things!*\"\n\nShe laughed, again.\n\n\"Well aren't we just a card today?\"\n\n\"Well, I guess I'm practicing to be the best son I can be!\"\n\nShe laughed, but then her eyes lit up. She went to speak but I thanked her before she could say it. I had work to do. \n\nI'm not the best at conversation. I'm not even the funniest. But thanks to my Mom, I learned what I really *am* the best at. To me, that made her the best mom I could ever ask for.\n\nI'm not the best at being funny, I'm the best at being corny.\n\nAnd maybe, with enough practice, I might be more than that someday!"
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[WP] An immortal is always reincarnated when he dies. He is always reincarnated as a slave. | 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",
"[Blah, wrote this in 30. Didn't re-read anything at all and expect lots of grammar mistakes. I really wanted to explore his other lives more than a few sentences but again.. lunch time writing. If there is interests I may clean it up]\n\n**1820 – London**\n\n*”I’m afraid there is nothing I can do.”* Is the phrase Mr. Ainsley replays in his head over and over again. The man who helped bring Britain into the industrial age by automating his several factories with steam engines and production lines is suffering from the same thing that unites everyone in the end, old age and death. Mr. Ainsley who has been bedridden for months, unable to get up from his bed on his own has put a lot of his wealth into looking for a cure. He had doctors from beyond London visit him, Shamans with awful tasting elixirs, and conmen who just want his money have come in promising the cure of old age and death. \n\nYet he didn’t expect the Devil himself to see him. Lucifer with his goat like horns, red tinted skin, forked tongue, and deep and scratchy voice hovered over Ainsley’s bed while he slept. “Wake up” the Devil commanded. \n\nMr. Ainsley opened his eyes, looking at the fiendish creature. He would shriek in horror if he could, but wasn’t able to muster up the breath to do so. His heart pumps faster and faster, giving a piercing pain for fright. His old frail hands clutch his left breast. \n\n“Now, I hear you don’t want to die. Here is the deal I give everyone, give me your soul and you can live forever. When you die, you’ll be born somewhere else. The cycle will only end when you kill or ask me to release you, in which you’ll be brought to hell to server me. Otherwise you die tonight.” The Devil spoke. Mr. Ainsley was in pain, but he heard the devil’s offer. Mr. Ainsley like all men, think they can outsmart something they can’t fathom agrees to it. \n\n“Fine.” He says in a lowered barely breathing tone.\n\n“But, I’ll live forever. I’ll never want to die.” The old man retorted back. He’ll have years, hundred of years of life. Who wouldn’t want that? \n\nMr. Ainsley died that night, his estranged children took over his many factories. No one outside of his children and his first ex-wife attended the funeral. \n\n**1830 – London**\n\nAndrew was sold to the Ainsley Corporation at the age of 6, as soon as he understood basic instructions from his father and mother. The Ainsley Textile corporation was seeking new employees with small hands able to move the different threads of string within the machine. The hands of full grown adults proved to be too big and clumsy, and being able to use children that they support through orphanages and children homes was a great cost reduction that their founder Mr. Ainsley would be proud of. \n\nThe first week of work involved a lot of crying and disobeying, but backhands to the head, screaming, and withholding food made the more unenthusiastic children more acceptive to work tasks and functions. Within a few weeks Andrew started to get into the groove of work, he’ll wake up, unthread the machines, and when the machines jammed he’ll use his hands to rehook the thread. It was scary at first because the machine needed to remain on in order to keep producing other items, if they turned it off it was deemed too much of a time lost for the corporation. \n\nOne day, one of the older machines that would routinely jam was having a lot of issues. It was making noise and being erratic, but the company wouldn’t call out a repairman unless it stopped working. Andrew was the one assigned to the machine, and as soon as he reached into the machine to rehook the thread, he felt what couldn’t only described being a curved bone in shape. Looking into the machine, deep within the mechanics of nuts, bolts, and steam dark glowing red eyes peered back to him. That’s when Andrew remembered the deal he made so long ago with the Devil. \n\n“You’ve lived as a child robbed of his innocence and forced to work for someone else’s greed. Do you want to die?” \n\n“No” replied Mr. Ainsley. \n\n“If I work hard, I can rise up in the company. I want to live.”\n\n“So be it.”\n\nThe textile machine broke down in the moment, the wires twining the thread breaks apart and slices Andrew’s hand off him. Shortly later he died due to blood loss. \n\n**1916 – Somme**\n\nAndrew was 41 when he was sent to war with a wife and two children at home. If the conscription officers waited another three months, he wouldn’t have been eligible for conscription. Instead he was the laughing stock of his unit, old and unfit Andrew was barely able to run around a field without breathing heavily.\n\nHe has been posted in Somme for a few weeks now, his job was to routinely look over the trench with binoculars and confirm if the Germans were charging or not. There were gunshots and arterially shells being fired daily, but there wasn’t a big threat to their safety unless they left the trench.\n\nOne day a pigeon was flying towards their outpost, and it fell dead 10 yards into no man’s land. While no Man’s land would be regularly cleaned of bodies by medics, the Germans didn’t uphold the truce knowing a message meant for the British Empire was stuck in No Man’s land. The British Captain, who didn’t know the importance of the message decided the best way to receive it was to storm the trench. Their main objective was to attack, but to also retrieve the message. \n\nBodies ran towards the German’s trench. Guns fired and an orchestra of screams and bullets serenade the battlefield. Andrew being the slowest of the bunch was well protected by bodies as they fell in front of him. Andrew was also the first to discover the message, and instead of pressing the charge retreated back to base to hand the commander the message. \n\nThe commander’s tent was as luxurious as it could be. With a real cot, chessboard, and meals that weren’t revolved around stale bread and butter. Andrew delivered the message, still panting from the run back. The commander opened the message and read it out to Andrew. \n\n“Do you wish to die?” The Commander asked Andrew. Then just like that, Andrew’s past lives were revealed. \n\n“No.” he answered again. \n\n“Well I am fighting for someone else’s war and possibly sacrificing myself. I’m doing it for my country.” \n\nThe commander nodded, and at the end of the conversation an arterially shell exploded onto the tent, killing Andrew. \n\nThis happened several more times. Mr. Ainsley experienced life as a Woman, physically abused by his husband and denied rights he had experienced as a male, Ainsley reason for living was “I believe humanity would learn to treat each other fairly.” He died after a drunken beating went a bit too far. \n\nHe then experienced his life as an African American in the 70’s in America. Being oppressed by the system and never giving the same opportunities. He died during a lynching, but told the devil. “My life besides this was filled with happiness of a wife. I was oppressed under the system but I made do. It wasn’t as bad as how I treated my workers.” He denied he was a slave to the government and social classes. \n\nHe then experienced life an engineer. Working for a multimillion dollar company called Ainsley’s Aerodynamics. He worked 9-5, several overtime shifts a week. His wife and himself became estranged after him finding her in bed with a friend of his, and his kids grew to resent them because he was always at the office. The office never promoted him up beyond a mid-tier worker, and just before his retirement he was let go under a third warning because he was late to work. He was caught speeding and an officer lectured him causing him to be late, which was the third strike the company needed. He died of a pestering infection in a retirement home. Satan portrayed as one of the Nurses asked him the question again. “Do you want to die?”\n\n“No. I lived my life poorly and didn’t put those I loved before me. This is my fault, no one else’s”. With that he passed away from his wounds. \n\nMr. Ainsley eyes opened. He was in a closet. The closet was filled with other computer junk of disassembled robot parts. The company Ainsley’s Electronics had went out of business after their parent company’s stocks crashed and they had to put everything they weren’t able to sell in a storage locker. One of their projects was a humanized robot to help clean the house called *Butler Ainsley*, but it never hit passed prototyping. \n\nFor years Ainsley stared at the storage door. He was unable to speak, think, or do anything except for staring at the door. He had no arms or legs to move, he had no functions to keep himself entertained. He couldn’t speak or sing, or a need to sleep. He wanted to die, but had no way to convey it. \n\nSo he remains in a locker, waiting staring at the door hoping someone would open it. \n",
"Of course it had to be freaking Mauretania where fate placed him this time. The places became more remote where he had to grow up and eventually escape from. As a looper, he returned each time with his memories intact in a new body and, as a price for many new beginnings, each time he returned as a slave. Each time somewhere else, each time someone else but each time made for service and submission, not freedom and the ability to decide his fate. It had become easier over the years to get away, to build something for yourself. More and more countries, regions and nations frowned upon the institution of slavery, provided a safe haven to escapees. There were still strongholds, of course there would be, but these became fewer and fewer. He realized that eventually, there would be no slavery anymore. Then, at last, his soul might find peace. ",
" what a pointless way to go. the thoughts were fuzzy and fast because no matter what the mind says the body always resists, always fights back a little bit, that frenzied animal desperation. sometimes i stick around for a while. a couple bodies back i even escaped, felt humid air in my lungs and the jungle underneath my feet. made it to a city, begged for change from hard faces. that was a strange one- the abject agony of starvation, the sidewalk kissing my face, watching bellies full enough to walk pass by, not seeing or not looking or not caring to look. eventually keeping my eyes open got to be too tiring so i stopped doing that. eventually breathing got to be too tiring so i stopped doing that too. what a pointless way to go. i felt the warm porcelain under my palms, pressed so hard i could feel its heartbeat. some bodies go quicker than others. sometimes, i wake up already malnourished and weak, still fit for work but just barely. the overseers never have compassion. sometimes i wake up and they've already decided i'm done- i'm too old, or some machine took an arm, its sounds never changed but they couldn't drown out the roaring in my ears. this body might have been a new record, though. couldn't have been more than an hour. my arms are small and weak, i've got no chance against the thick hairy hand on the back of my head but still i fight. my nose is broken, blood in the dingy hotel toilet water. this body, i woke up underneath a man. the water burns my throat. he let me go to the bathroom. the mirror broke easily the perfect shard he didn't even hear. i hid it came out feigning compliance. water takes the warmth from my lungs. it went in so easily, his body thrashed on top of me and i thought for a moment he was going to live but his body was a machine that the shard of mirror punched through his nose into his brain jammed it performed all the right motions just out of order, disjointed and he fell onto the floor. it was a good life until his friend came back, the element of surprise was not there. i wonder where i'll be next. maybe someday they'll be nowhere for me to go, no poor vessel for my spirit. maybe i could know death how i'm supposed to. until then. i feel that calm start to flow over me. until then. i'm just another dead slave."
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[WP] At the first day and the last, there were six. The Chalice Queen, The King of Swords, The Cursed Knight, The Last Angel... And the Jokers, Red and Black. | 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",
"We did not choose this power. Training from a young age to carry the burden of a people on our shoulders, no one would choose this. All of us, the physical manifestation of the land we represent, standing in a room preparing to kill and die for our people. This is how power is earned. My opponents are no slouches, but I must win. It's worse for me, for my people in the Land of Seraphs. We have fielded the last three victorious champions with me winning the previous battle. We are the attendants of God himself so while our victory is no surprise, the burden is insurmountable. Still, the other lands have been close the gap over the last few contests and these look to be the strongest yet. \n\n The Chalice Queen, originating from the Land of Greed. It's said that while they field a champion every time they have all but given up hope of winning, since being from the land of greed they are not trusted to even conspire with. Something this time is different though. This time the champion from the Land of Greed gives off an aura of someone very deserving of the title 'The Chalice Queen' and while physically she isn't too intimidating I can't help but look into her eyes and feel a sense of fear being struck into my very core. \n\n And then the King of Swords, from the Land of Honor. A mountain of a man wielding a sword almost as big as I am, with eyes in the blade and feathers on the hilt that belonged to the mythical dragon, Kukulkan, slain by the first King of Swords. The sword as well as a crown engulfed in blue flames that sits atop his head are passed down through the generations to the champion of the Land of Honor. The King of Swords is always a worthy adversary and this time is no different. \n\n Next, The Cursed Knight, from the Land of the Lost. A faceless knight with skin as gray as ash and hands made of clay, The Cursed Knight is always a problem as he is always skilled in ancient martial arts and his hands being made of clay gives them the ability to regenerate them allowing him to fight with nothing to lose. That's where I envy him, fighting here having nothing to lose and having lost nothing. After all, you can't risk losing what you never had.\n \n Then there's me, The Last Angel, of the land of Seraphs. I'm merely an average sized man with massive, midnight black wings and a pitch black scythe. Even though I won last competition I can't be over confident, my family is God's favorite of all the angels. I will not allow my ignorance get in the way of—\n\n Hearing those bells... Is it really the end of the cycle. The bells from the hats of the Jokers of Red and Black. While they belong to no land they are responsible for the most gruesome contests in history. Two beings that while alone aren't anything but crazy, together they have power that rivals a demigod. They are used to provide entertainment to a being more powerful that us and remind us of the power held by this higher being. Each holding a pair of black and green snake daggers and an inclination for pure violence. \n\n A voice blasts through the room, snapping me from my thoughts. \"Welcome champions of the four divine lands, to the 20th Battle of the Ancients, remember you are fighting for power for each of your lands and for the entirety of your people. As you know, there is but one rule, Don't Die. Let the battle being!\"",
"**The Kingdom of the Wicked: A Poem**\n\nThe Ivory Tower, \n\nThe Iron Sword's Glow, \n\nThe Depths of the Demons, \n\nThe Darkness Below, \n\nThe Red Running Blood,\n\nThe Black Sonorous Chill,\n\nIn the Kingdom of the Wicked, \n\nThese Inky Rivers shall fill.\n\nA Queen of Hedonism, \n\nA King of Bloodlust, \n\nA Knight's Blade, \n\nA Bishop's Rust, \n\nA pawn of white, \n\nA pawn of red, \n\nBow to her feet, \n\nOr off with your head.\n\nOn day one, on day six,\n\nThe tainted flag shall rise, \n\nIn the Kingdom of the Fallen, \n\nYou shall meet your demise. \n\nThe Glutton, \n\nThe Rage, \n\nThe Shame, \n\nThe Cage, \n\nThe Laughter, \n\nThe Violence, \n\nThe Kingdom\n\nOf Silence. \n\nHer neck's been slit, \n\nHis head has fallen, \n\nHis helm's been split, \n\nHer heart's a-crawlin', \n\nThe laughter never stops, \n\nIn death or in life, \n\nIn the Kingdom of the Jokers, \n\nNo pain, no loss, no strife. ",
"A queen of regal bearing, garbed in sparkling violet robes and a golden, jeweled tiara, wielding the power of the Heavenly Chalice for the good of her people.\n\nA king, devoted to the Sword, having mastery over the divine blade Godslayer, with impenetrable armor and imposing aura, will fight for the survival of his loyal followers to his last breath.\n\nA knight, once a righteous protector, yet cursed by the demonic Nether Empress to betray his oath and stand with evil, his only desire to meet a foe powerful enough to bring about his end.\n\nAn angel, the last of his kind, wearing robes of white, possessing transcendent wings and a cherubic visage, wielding the golden staff Variel, desires to use the remainder of his life to regain the lost glory of his people.\n\nAnd finally, a pair of twins, Jokers by trade, one Red and one Black, garbed in foolish attire, both simple humans and nothing more, with no supernatural abilities or heavenly powers. Fighting together, their battle prowess is enough to make them nearly invincible. They wield the power of the mind, using their ingenuity to outplay their foes and their myriad inventions to render enemies helpless. \n\nThey met on the first day, and once again they meet on the last. Each of these saints, all shining stars of their world, have no choice but to face one another in deadly combat, vying for victory at all costs. The stakes are high, but the rewards are infinite. The Queen raises her Chalice, the King unsheathes his sword, the Knight draws his mace, the Angel plants his staff, and the twin Jokers...they stand there, smiling innocently. \n\nFrom the heavens, an almighty being projects his voice, and speaks a word that echoes throughout the world, discernible by every living creature in existence: \"**Begin**.\""
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[WP] some aliens have abducted someone from the planet Earth, a routine procedure, but this time they have taken a psychopath and they aren’t too fond of this new turn of events... | 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",
"Captain Deadpools log \nStar date......... today.\nHaving found myself confined in some contraption obviously used for alien prostate exams. I have finally found the day where my strawberry hello kitty lube comes in handy. Spoiler alert Meow!\n\nIn walks a alien that looks like Morgan freeman but blue with giant boobs.\n"
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[WP] "I am my own worst nightmare." | 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",
"^(Apologies for not replying. Got busy with life. Hope you enjoy) \n \n--- \n \nJulio glanced at Paloma with the bare minimum of emotion on his face. \nShe had crossed on his path out from school with her arms widened and a determined glare, seeking answers she ached for so desperately. \nHe arranged his glasses. It was obvious he couldn't avoid her any longer. \nFoolish. \n \n\"What is it that you want to know?\" he asked, placing his backpack down on the ground. He would have preferred to have this end quick, but this looked to be one of those unavoidable long conversations. \n\"Why?\" Her voice lacked the usual enthusiasm or annoying energy she would pester him with, calling him by a nickname he never liked or just rotating around his presence like some sort of lonely impressionable child. \"Why didn't you tell us you were the Messenger of Chaos? Are you here to kill us?\" She paused, looking down at his backpack. He could see how she was trying to keep her emotions in check, selecting what words to speak. It would be the first time he had seen her in this mood. \"Do we have to kill *you*?\" \n \nYes. \nYes. \nThey were all affirmative answers. \nBut they were also all wrong. \nDid Chaos even have a proper definition? \nHe took a deep breath and let out the air via his nostrils, shaking his head slowly. \n \n\"Would you have believed me if I told you?\" He cut out what ever words she was about to utter. His words made her flinch and prop her eyes back to seeing his own. He remained as emotionless as before. \"What kind of benefit would it have knowing what I am. If you think it thoroughly, this only complicates things.\" \n\"Are you here to kill us?\" she asked again. He shook his head slowly. \n\"I have a mission. I'm not necessarily here to kill your Star Knights. I'm merely here to take the stars they hold. If their lives fade because they are attached to that source of power, then that is an unfortunate consequence.\" \n \nPaloma approached him in a brisk walk. She stopped at mere inches from his position. \nHer glasses couldn't hide her tears that well from such a distance, he noted, and so did he notice her hand coming up towards his chest as if wanting to grab his vest though such gesture was never completed. \nThe hand went down as quickly as it went up. She could barely see him without exposing herself in such manner. \n \n\"Is there a way you can stop doing that? I'm sure there has to be.\" Her voice was quiet, shaken. Julio wondered if he had yet obtained the star with the element of compassion. \"Is there anything we can do to help?\" \n\"There might be but that may not be what you want.\" \n \nA long time ago, there were two goddesses. \nOne represented the ethereal and one the discernible. \nThere was a conflict between the two which lead him to be in the condition he was now: a broken excuse for a person, cursed to find his missing pieces in order to find his purpose. \nHe had the sensation that this was not the first time he had attempted this quest but he lacked the needed parts to feel enough bitterness towards it. Perhaps it was just the will to keep this curse going and see where it would take him. Perhaps there would be some sort of reward in the end. \nHe patted her head. It was gentle but lacked warmth. \n \n\"Believe me, I'm not as thrilled as you may think. I just want to get over with it.\" \n \nPaloma tilted her head to meet his eyes once more. The tears were more obvious this time, and she even took a chance to take off her glasses and wipe off some of the mist that clouded them, brushing her eyes before placing them back on. \n \n\"Why don't you stop then? Are you obligated to it?\" \n \nHe didn't know what to reply. \nFor eons, the stories and myths of his persona were vast. Fear was a common denominator on each of them. \nA creature or nightmarish soldier that sought those taken by the stars and reaped their essences away without hesitation. \nA powerful embodiment of chaos, one that shook complete populations and could turn them into dust. \nAnd yet nothing of that matter flattered him, filled him, brought him any sort of pain or sorrow. \nHe just existed and had really no choice on the matter. A puppet dancing in the middle of the Eternal War. His own worst nightmare. \n \n\"Paloma,\" He lifted his hand away from her head and crouched down to pick his backpack, sliding one of the straps on his shoulder. \"I don't hate you. I don't hate your group. This is just what I am. I may distance myself from them and delay their inevitable fate, but that is the most I can do. We could be friends since you got some sort of fascination with me and we are in some sort of card tournament down at the school cafeteria together. I could accept that companionship, but be aware that things will remain the same.\" \n \nIf this girl was as decisive as she was and persevere, perhaps she could find a way. Perhaps. \nHe began to walk past her. \n \n\"Ya-\" she was about to call him by his nickname but refrained from doing so. \"Julio. Um,\" Paloma turned towards him as he left down the path towards the exit. \"I'll try to help you. I promise.\" \n \nHe lifted his right arm, enough to wave at her lazily. \n \n\"Focus on yourself. Maybe then, you can change things.\" \n \nMaybe. \nOnly time would tell. \n \n \n--- \n \nFor more stories, visit /r/KibouPortal \n\n\n",
"It’s not his face. It’s no maniacal laughter or metal blade or fiery eyes. It’s not even the basement with its walls closing in around me and holding me there for him. It’s not anything you’d define as scary.\n\nDo you know what my worst nightmare is?\n\nMe.\n\nIt’s me giving up. It’s me giving in. Not fighting, not screaming, not recoiling from the knife. I just take it. He does all this to me and in my nightmares I accept it. I deserve it. I want it.\n\nAnd if it’s not that, it’s me being with him. Willingly. I stay by his side. I cook and clean for him. I “make love” to him. I love him. The man I should hate and curse with my dying breath. The man who broke me so completely that I’m devoted to him. And it’s all a lie. I stand there with an apron and a pie and an enormous Stepford Smile. Because I’m dead on the inside.\n\nIn my dreams, *I* am my own worst nightmare.",
" I think… Yes I think I've gone mad. It was a subtle shift, but to tell the truth it has been a long time in coming. You see, I think that madness is like a river facing against a dam. Most people can relieve the pressure slowly, letting their madness out in little rivulets. Keeping the dark waters at bay. \n\nI can remember the first time. The first crack in the dam. IT was a little thought. A reapers dream. And I indulged the thought. No harm at all given to man or beast. It was just a thought. But the cracks grew and the thoughts tumbled like rain in a storm. Until one day there was no difference between the falling rain, and drowning in the sea. \n\nIt swept through my dam like waves before the sand and my madness escaped. I remember the feeling of freedom, of majesty. Of magnificence. The shackles of convention and conformity falling away and my eyes were opened. I was free. \n\nI looked down at my hands covered in the bright red of life. Already growing dull. At the body of the man broken before me. He had asked me for my wallet. Very polite and grinning. He was still grinning. He would always be grinning now. I grinned back and together we shared that joke. A joke that only we would know. I walked away from the grinning man my own smile beginning to fade. That would not do, not do at all. ",
"The sun had been up for hours when I finally staggered in through the door, the smell of the bar following closely behind. I threw my high heels into the pile of shoes under the coat rack and put a hand to my forehead, but the relentless pounding refused to subside.\n\n“Jesus,” I grumbled to myself. Every part of me hurt this morning. Not for the first time, I wished that I was twenty-one again. Hangovers had never been that bad back then.\n\n“Mommy?” a small voice called from the second floor. Two feet and the bottoms of red rocket ship pajama pants came into view at the top of the staircase. “Mommy?”\n\n“Not now, Nathan,” I snapped. “Don’t talk to Mommy until she’s had her coffee.” I hiked my dress up over my cleavage and turned into the kitchen, where I pulled a mug and a handle of vodka out of the cabinets. One shot now, two in the mug, and another now for good luck. Filter, grinds, water in the coffee maker and-\n\n“Mommy?”\n\n“What?” I didn’t even try to hide the annoyance in my voice. I turned around and almost tripped over him. Nathan always seemed to get underfoot at the worst times.\n\n“Am I going to Kid-nergarten today?”\n\nThe green digits on the microwave glowed, “10:31.” Well past the start of class.\n\n“Fuck,” I muttered.\n\n“You said you would drive me.” Nathan’s voice quieted until it was almost inaudible and his bottom lip trembled. I prayed for no tears. There was no way I was dealing with that shit right now.\n\n“Just go back to bed.”\n\n“But I’m not tired.”\n\nI pointed a finger upstairs. “Bed. Now.”\n\n“Can I eat a snack?”\n\n“No,” I snapped and grabbed his shirt in my fist. Almost dragging him, I led him to the staircase and with one final push, released my grip on him. He fell, face forward.\n\nAnd that’s when the tears started.\n\nNathan scrambled to his feet, blood and tears streaming down his face. I reached out toward him but it was too late. His feet pounded up the stairs, a door slammed, and then silence. I felt like puking and knew that it wasn’t because of the hangover.\n\nIn the mirror halfway up the stairs, I caught a glimpse of my reflection. Black makeup smeared around my eyes and my hair stuck up in every which direction. In short, I looked manic. But what scared me most was the look in my eyes. It was the same look that haunted my every dream since I was just a little girl. I remembered hiding under my bed whenever my father would come home at night from the bars. I remembered him throwing things and yelling at me and yelling at my mother. I remembered when he slapped me across the face and how my cheeks had stung for days. Most of all, I remembered the fear and that look in my father’s eyes.\n\nThe same look I wore right now.\n\nIt was then that I realized I had become my own worst nightmare.\n"
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[removed] | [WP] Actors portraying a role begin to acquire some of their characters traits. Elderly roles can be hazardous to your health, and furries fervently compete for anthropomorphic castings. This last casting call, though, was truly unorthodox... | 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",
"\"As you can imagine, we've had quite a lot of interest for this particular role...\"\n\nThe casting agent smiled, and then pushed open the door. Ordinarily, casting calls were done in an office, tucked somewhere discreetly out the way on the studio lot. But this one...\n\nThe wall of noise hit her immediately. There were so many people vying for the role that they had a full warehouse dedicated to it. There were easily hundreds of people there, reading lines, adjusting their clothes or their make-up, or just making casual conversation. She took a step forward, and looked around.\n\n\"Jesus. I knew you'd had a lot of applications, but this is just *crazy*,\" Megan said. The exec laughed, and shrugged his shoulders. \"How many people wanted it?\"\n\n\"Well, if you count the write-ins, around a half a million. We got that down to about three.\"\n\n\"Hundred?\"\n\n\"Thousand,\" he said, in a very clipped tone. Then, he shrugged again. \"I guess it makes sense, though. Who *wouldn't* want to play God?\"\n\n-----\n\n*Thank you for reading. If you liked this, please check out /r/PuzzledRobot for more.*"
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[WP] Chess is actually the story of two kingdoms that are in a constant state of war. You are a pawn that wants to put an end to this madness. | 1,563 | [
"**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 sentinel carried with himself a message of life and death, a scroll that could potentially end everything, or submerge the whole continent into chaos once more. The contents inside it were forged, but if he could just muster the tiniest bit of peace between the two kingdoms, if such a thing as hope existed, he would have no regrets.\n\nLeft and right his brothers fell, rather than saving them, he marched on. Tears filled his eyes as the road ahead deprived him of his childhood friends: of Bart who always wished to be a knight and had led his friends together, of Jerry who only cared about serving a higher power, of Thomas who just took the job to feed his family.\n\nBut his steps did not waver, though his heart did, a heavy weight on his chest. Too much had been lost, the once smiling faces of his children who now laid in graves, the festive days of the moon harvest, and his very own laughter.\nAs he neared the enemy king, he was running out of breath, his voice turning slightly higher. The moment of truth had arrived.\n\nThen the sentinel became a queen.\nEdit: and her opinion was neglected due to the patriarchal structure of Middle Ages",
"I faced him in his black armor at the edge of the battlefield. Neither of us giving ground, neither of us advancing. On one side, a cliff dropping thousands of feet with an endless ocean crashing against its bottom. To the other side, madness ensued.\n\nAn armored knight astride a white horse ran down a bishop dressed in ebony robes. A massive rook the color of the void strode through the battlefield, taking little damage and obliterating anything in its path. Pawns in contrasting armor charged forward in phalanx positions and hacked at their foes. The Queens in their gilded chariots flew from one side to the other, spraying the blood of all before them. The Kings atop their shinning towers directed their forces with inhumane certainty. Everyone was fighting. Everyone was moving. Everyone was doing something, except for me. \n\nWhat sort of hell was this? What unending curse? We fought, we died, and we returned. So we fought again, we died again, and we returned again. Repeating over and over. A circle of death and struggle, of blood and steel. It did not matter if we won or lost, still we return. For as long as time itself we return. But why? Why must we fight? Why will it not end?\n\nThe cliff is open. The sound of waves calls to me. The open air whispering freedom and the rocks bellow sing my name. Throwing down my sword, I leap off, completely shocking my foe and myself.\n\n An unseen hand plucks me from the air and gently places me back in front of my foe drawing the attention of all. In front of them I fall to my knees and weep. As the tears stream down my face, I watch as the black rook rolls toward me. As its massive axe passes through my flesh I cry out, spitting blood and bone. Dying. Again. Praying for this to be the last time. In my death throws i watch as the rook retreats, the dark pawn steps over my broken body. \n\nI blink back the pain and find myself standing beside my brothers in a phalanx line. We stare across a virgin battlefield at the enemy. The king trumpets an order, sending me out of the line to fight again. ",
"The two kings toppled to the ground, lifeless, as I cut down the royalists left and right. It was finally over. \n\n\"Comrades!\" I shouted to my fellow pawns from the center of the square. \"We are free at last from this feudal struggle. No more shall nobles do battle with our lives at the front lines: no longer will we have to charge enemy ramparts: no longer do we need to hear the wicked tongues of the priests: we are now all equal.\" \n\nI took a step forward. \"Yes, we are now all equal, and there is no need to kill one another. No longer shall we dance to the tune of our masters, we shall keep moving forward and never turn back.\" \n\nI passed through the ranks of my fellows, different in color only. \n \"We will continue our progress, until nobody should ever be subjugated to the boot of autocracy. We are all the same now!\" \n\n\"All I ask,\" I said as I stepped onto the edge of the world, \"Is that you... queen me.\" And I watched the filthy peasants shrink before my eyes as I towered over them. How short-sighted they are... well, we will have to fix that, won't we.",
"Orders always came from behind us. Our job was simple. We followed those orders as our comrads fell around us spilling blood upon a battlefield that has been dyed red. The man to my left and right supported me as I supported them. Every action, breath, and tear was shared together like yin and yang. We danced. \n \nOur kingdoms had been ravaged by a war that was started so long ago that we didn't even know it's origin. Kings and queens seemed to fall as consistently as us footman and their bed was made by the knights and religious authorities that advised them. Only the castles remained steadfast with the stone bricks that had been reused so many times. \n \nI grew into this world. I lived and breathed my training and rose to be at the center of the battlefield. When the orders came in I acted. After twenty battles, though, the weariness had drained me and a distaste for the game that was forced upon me began to grow. I knew this would never end. \n \nI had taken some ground and controlled the center of the battlefield as I was instructed when Garrish fell behind me. He was quickly replaced and the orders that chilled me came. Hold the incoming advance. I had watched what happened to my brothers-in-arms when this order had came in the past. The end would not be met with grace, by me, in the same way it had been greeted by the others. \n \nI advanced into the battlefield and my mind was immediately wracked in a pain we all knew would come should we choose to rebel. The king dove into the ridges of my mind and plundered it like so many cities we had taken. I advanced through it. My goal ahead of me would end this battle and I charged through the soldiers that dare try and stop my momentum. \n \nI took many. I ended up staring the enemies king directly in his soul and saw the bloodshot of his tired eyes that he had try to hide from his soldiers. My sword, now dripping with blood, rose up and glinted in the sun's gaze. It acted almost on its own. A final flash and I stared the king in the eyes as I took his life. The battlefield froze for an instant. The battles had never ended like this before. \n \nIt was over as I felt my king's hold on me decrease and then cease all together. I left my sword lodged in the enemy king's ribcage and removed myself from that battlefield without regard to the chaos that was initiated. No more would I fight. No more would I die on another's exhausted command. \n",
"At the end of your conquest for peace, you discovered something that no one else have ever known, it's not just you, but the two kingdoms are just pawns by a higher being.",
"\"Where is she? King of Lights.\" says the soulless and emotionless soldier stood before the majestic King.\n\n\"A foot soldier ... in my fortress... ? Little did I expect ...\"\n\n\"Where are you hiding her?\"\n\n\"I am not hiding her... I am protecting her, with my enchantments. Protecting her from your king, The Dark King. She's too powerful, he's too ambitious and ruthless. If darkness reaches her, she will destroy us all\" \n\n\"The king is not why I am here.\" the wounded soldier pulls out his blood-soaked sword. \n\n\"Hah, I have triumphed the best of your heroic knights and crafty mages here in front of my throne. They all turned tails and run as soon as they faced the might of my arcane seals. What can a little pawn like you do?\"\n\nThe dark soldier steps forward. A magic circle of light appears before him.\n\n\"Retreat, shadow soldier. Another step and you will be killed by my seals. Your evil king is not worth dying for.\"\n\n\"A soulless soldier such as myself do not know how to step back, I only move forward. And I am not fighting for the king.\" \n\nThe soldier took a step forward. Blinding chains of light appears. Within the chains is a bound pale maiden surrounded by sparks of lights.\n\nThe soldier whispers: \"At last ... \"\n\nThe soldier swings his broad-sword against the chains. Giants bolts of lightnings appears from the seal to sent the soldier pains beyond the withstanding of any mortals. He lets out a scream but he does not give up. Instead he presses forward against the chains of light. Eventually he broke the chains, the lights surrounding the maiden begins to fade. The soldier collapsed to the ground.\n\nThe maiden saw the severely hurt soldier and quickly embraces him with tears: \"My love, why did you not turn back? why did you not run? why did you hurt yourself like this?\"\n\nThe soldier says in a faint voice: \"From the day the Dark King took you, I have lost my reason to live, I have lost my soul, I have lost my ability to fear. Since then, I could only press forward, longing the day that I would see you again. I may not have freed you from the curse but at least I want to free you from the chains.\" The soldier's hand drops to the ground and passes away with a smile. \n\nThe light maiden weeps uncontrollably in pain and sorrow. The light remnants around her have finally completely faded. As she weeps in pain and hatred, dark flame beginning to raised around her and eventually engulfed her.\n\n\"It is what I feared the most.\" says the King of Lights in tremors. \"She has awoken, The Black Witch of Destruction.\"\n\n\"Queen ...\" The maiden spoke out through the black flames. She corrected the King with a glare of sorrow and hatred and can piece any souls. \"... The Black Queen of Destruction.\" \n",
"War\nWar is hell\nI stand on a field of death. Dozens die here, and are transported somewhere where the living can never see. The white and black fields are littered with discarded weapons and blood. Movement is strange, sometimes enemy armies will walk right next to each other and not say a word, and there are multiple armies just standing still, looking at each other, neither side moving. Strange rules of movement are imposed on all of us, and it has caused thousands of deaths. \nI have had enough\n“ENOUGH!” I shout. All soldiers turn to look at me, and I know what I must do.\nI take a step backwards, in clear violation of the movement rules.\nThen I charge an enemy knight from the right, destroying him. \nSuddenly, the world begins to shift, and the ground moves sideways. All I feel is the sensation of flying through the air, before it all goes black.\n—",
"He had sat with his brother, the bishop, when she stormed into his hall. Screaming and screeching, she was only short of foaming at the mouth as she pushed her way past the guards.\n\n\n“Warmonger! Murderer! Fool!” Her words echoed between the tall pillars, many times magnified in their strength. The noblemen and ladies looked at her with shock and disdain but she had only eyes for him.\n\n\nThey were in the middle of a game of chess. He had reclined in his cushioned chair, the crown sitting lazily on his black locks. Now he leaned forward, magnanimously motioning his guard to leave her before they could put their ironclad hands on her shoulders.\n\n\nShe came to a stop only a few yards from him. Obviously she had not expected to get so close. Her eyes were red, her face wet with tears.\n\n\n“Excuse me?” The corner of his mouth curled into a winning smile, his eyebrows raised.\n\n“Do not play dumb, you evil man! You know why I am here. You killed him.” \n\n“Woman, are you out of your wits? You are talking to your king!” His brother bellowed next to him, and he raised his hand to silence him.\n\n“Please, brother. Let the lady speak, she has much to explain. I am afeared that I do not know what you are talking about, mylady. I have not killed anyone, surely I would remember.” His voice was silken and smooth like the purr of a tomcat.\n\n“My son, you killed my son! Even if it was not your blade that struck him, a feat you would not have managed. It was you that killed him like all of the brave men that die for your arrogance!”\n\nHis surprise was no mockery. \n\n“Your son is dead? My deepest condolences. Our country and I are deeply thankful to him and in myladys debt for her sacrifice. But I am afeared such is the way of war. Sacrifices have to be made.”\n\nHer scoff was filled with immediate anger. As she spoke, her words dripped of poisonous hate.\n\n“And yet you sit here, as the war rages and play some more.” She motioned to the chessboard between them. “Are you never tired of it? It’s just a game to you, this war, isn’t it? The game of kings. Well, so be it. On my name and my blood I curse you. This war will not end, it will not lead to victory and glory. It will rage and rage until your lust for it is sated and beyond. Your sons will grow and die in it and you will learn to hate it, but it will be too late for nothing can stop it. Like your game it will begin anew when it ends forever and ever. Curse be upon you!”\n\nHe stood up then. It only took a gesture of his hand for his guards to grab her. Heavy hands dragged her away drowning her screaming as he chased her with the orders of her execution.\n\n“Behead her, but do not put her on a pike. She is my aunt, after all.”\n\n_______________\n\nMagnus gave the Queensguard a curt nod as he passed him. Though there were many reasons to respect these men, he could not help but feel uncomfortable in their presence. It was true that the Queen still only recruited them from the best men the country had to offer. Men that had gone deeper into enemy territory than anyone else. But the way they moved and held themselves, their shiny armor and the smug look on their faces. When he looked at them, he remembered why he had not become a knight.\n\nLife at court seemed hollow to him. Even the great hall had not been as beautiful as it was described. The king was an old man. The virile black of his hair had turned grey, like the remains of a campfire. He was bitter and his grief and scorn weighed on him so that his head was bowed as if the crown was too heavy.\n\nOf course, Magnus could not blame the king for a bit of grief and scorn. They all had plenty of both. A war of forty years left noone untouched by them. But it was the way the king had talked. He bickered and quarreled with his fate, something that Magnus had long found to be a waste of strength. \n\n“He had the chance to become a hero, didn’t he? I gave him a chance that every man would kill for! But only when he died did she hate me!” The king spat the words at him like he was somehow responsible.\n\nMagnus cared little for that. He had his mission. The mission. On kings orders. Who would have believed that a simple army man like him would ever be in this position. To bring an end to what had none. \n\nHe only needed to gather his men.\n\n__________\n\nThey were telling war stories when he arrived in camp. Vladimir was recounting his time at the eastern front, the Long Standoff. He was just at the part where they had to start eating the rats when Magnus came into earshot. Those that were not listening to the veteran gathered around their commander. Fabiano gave him a weak grin.\n\n“Yes, he’s at it again. Only halfway through, too, as you can hear. Will be a while ‘til he’s ready for news.”\n\n“None of that. Vlad, I need your ears and your mind with me.” He raised his voice above the tale of his old friend. The veteran complied immediately. \n\n__________\n“So, that’s the long and short of it. The fortress is in the far east of the empire. We’ll take fast horses and ride south through the great plains until we are deep in their territory. Like this we should be able to surpass the eastern front.”\n\n“You make it sound like there’s no war outside of the east. There’s plenty of fighting in the plains as well.” Magnus looked up at Maxime, who stroked his dark beard. The big man seemed almost scared. Understandably so. It was a daunting task.\n\n“You are right, Max. But you also know that it’s more light than the fronts of west and east. We will be able to break through, because we are a small group.”\n\n“And because we are some smart motherfuckers.”\n\n“That too.”",
"The story that they tell is that King White betrayed Our Lord Black in a most cruel and treacherous fashion, and when Our Lord Black merely attempted to defend his honor in the most small and humble fashion King White retaliated as viciously as a viper, and then out of his desire to protect his people Our Lord Black was left with no recourse but to fight in our defense.\n\nI was there, actually. No one noticed me there because I'm not the sort of person who gets noticed. I'm short and chubby, innocuous-looking, but it's more than that, my entire life I've somehow always faded into the background, faceless, insignificant. \n\nBut I was there when King White and Our Lord Black were each given half a cookie-- and it was a good cookie, a delicious one, dark with cream in the center. My mouth watered when I saw it. \n\n\"His is bigger,\" Our Lord Black pointed out, correctly.\n\n\"Here, now it's even,\" Queen Mother said.\n\n\"No, now his is bigger!\" King White said, and burst into tears.\n\nThis was the beginning. But there was no appeasing them, not then or ever afterwards. The room they shared was divided by a thick dark line down the center, and then the line spread through the castle, and then out onto the grounds. It grew impossible to get from place to place, the line zig-zagging around the individual elements each king had laid claim to. Over time their back and forth bickering divided the kingdom piecemeal, so that people stumbled step by step along pathways only broad enough for a single traveler at a time. \n\nThe kings demanded fierce loyalty, there was no switching sides. In the beginning families were split, and then eventually there was a gathering in, and entrenchment. We were the followers of the true leader, Our Lord Black, they, the craven sniveling misbegotten turnips who could dare follow that upstart \"King\" White. \n\nHow can a country function like this? How can it go on? It's obvious that something must be done, and because no one else will do it, because everyone has grown blinded by all that has happened, by the evil done by the other side, by the pain on their own, it is only I who is left to do it.\n\nAnd so I make my way to his Lordship Black. I've ripped my clothes and fasted for two days and I look like I've come stumbling in exhausted from a lengthy joruney.\n\n\"My Lord Black!\" I gasp. \"The presumptuous King White has declared that he is more peaceful, more generous, and more forgiving than you!\"\n",
"*”Daughter, a good leader looks out for his people. I’m sure our King and Queen believe this is the correct action to take against the Ebony King and his army. I’ll be back soon. I love you, and when this is over we’ll find you a horse.” Is the last thing my Father said to me before he left our house nearly a decade ago to fight in the war. He was conscripted because he was an out of work civilian. He didn’t have the training like the *Knights*, *Rooks*, or *Bishops*, so they put him with others like him. They were pawns for the other soldiers to move around and used as a shield. He died in the first sortie against the Ebony Kingdom. \n\nAll my life I’ve been underestimated. My mother clung to me when we lost father, she wasn’t confident I could make it out on my own. My friends when I told them I wanted to enlist of my own free will didn’t think I would be able to complete basic. Yet here I am with 7 other people just like me. We’re pawns. The first line of defense, and the first to go.\n\nBehind us is our Ivory King and Queen standing tall, united, and ready to begin our engagement with the enemy. The King while old in his age was assisted by his Queen, a young warrior woman who is rumored to be able to attack from anywhere. The Bishops of War bookended the King and Queen, deadly snipers who can pick people up diagonally from their position. The Knights of Ivory rode on horses, able to gallop above us and attack from different directions. They’re highly unpredictable. The Rooks, they’re like us but with better equipment, they’re able to rush enemies and move quickly across the board. \n\nOpposed to us? The Ebony Kingdom with a similar setup. There have been variations of the setup and amount of soldiers to bring to a formal battle like this throughout the years, but this traditional setup was known as the gentleman’s battle. But there is nothing gentlemanly about war. \n\nMy unit was first to charge, our wooden shields clash against the other pawns’ shields. Both sides forming a wall against each other, their pawn takes out one of us? We take out one of them. It was a stalemate as no pawn wanted to risk their lives this early. I looked to my right at my fellow comrade, a pawn who is freaking out. \n\n“I don’t know if I can do this, I d—”\n\nThe Black Knight jumped out of nowhere and collapsed on the poor pawn, stampeding him onto the ground with his giant horse’s hooves. He drew a sword, I turned around ready for combat but as the knight jumps, he changes direction and gallops towards the king. Looking at the bloody mess on the ground that was a pawn just like me, I didn’t want a horse nomore. I want to retreat and help back, but I need to push forward. This ends by killing the king. \n\nI charged forward clashing shields with another pawn. Neither of us wanted to move.\n\n“One of us got to move, or someone will pick us off.” He yelled at me, I wasn’t moving. I already failed to kill the Black Knight, there is no way I was letting another Ebony soldier get past me. \n\nIt took a few minutes but one of the Bishops of War took out the pawn in front of me. Just as I was about to congratulate him, he turned and said. \n\n“C’mon get up lass. Need to move. Can’t sit here.” The Bishop was rather spry despite how old he looked with his holy clothing. But I took heed to his words and charged forward, at this point in the war everyone was everywhere. \n\nThe Queens both Ebony and Ivory waltzed across the battlefield killing any pieces in their path. Their presence on the field opened the battle from a strategic battle to a chaotic struggle for survival. I catch glimpses of the battle, like the knights stomping on rooks, queens killing bishops, and king’s running for their lives. This wasn’t the war my father told me about, the *Ivory* king isn’t as brave as he told me. He was a coward. \n\nI’m almost on the other side of the battle, ready to flank the enemy. Soldiers of the Ebony army ignore me, going after the rooks, bishops, and knights. Just as I was about to attack a rook rushed back in front of me. The charge of the big sentry warrior with heavy armor, light machine gun, and big body intimidated me. He laughed knowing even if I put my shield forward his gun will rip me to pieces. \n\n“Ye made it this far. But this is the end for you. Should’ve stayed out there like the rest of the Pawns, maybe we would’ve taken mercy on you. But you move ahead thinking you can do something? Thinking you can attack us? Well this is the e—”\n\nJust as he pointed the gun at me, a stream of light cut through the big rook. Before his body fell, the *Ivory* Queen stood at his spot. She was glamourous, beautiful and confident. She turned to me. \n\n“Oh pawn, you made it so far. You’re an inspiration to us all. In terrifying odds you made it here. Child, everything will be fine.” She reassured as if a mother would to a child. But I wasn’t so sure. I was angry, how can she act so nonchalant about all this? For years we fought this war like this. Yet looking into her eyes I came to a realization, she wasn’t the same Queen my father fought for.\n\n“You’re not the Ivory Queen….” I gasp. \n\n“No, I was once like you.” She smiled, bending down to caress my cheek. \n\n“You may not understand why we fight, but know we do this because we have to. Just have faith and we’ll win this.” She said, turning around unprepared for the Black Knight. The gallops of the knight’s horse push her to the ground. The sword from the knight’s side stabs into her down body. Just as quickly as he attacked, he jumps away retreating from the scene. I run to her, callapsing onto my knees. \n\n“What are you talking about? Once like me?” I plead for answers. Yet I can tell the life was fading away from her face. \n\n“Take the crown, you’ll see.” Was her last words. \n\nI took her crown. My body instantly transforms, growing taller, more lively, and I feel powerful. My shield was replaced with a rapier, and my boots replaced with dancing shoes. I can move more freely, gliding across the battlefield. For the first time I felt free and powerful. I danced and dispatched of the Ebony Army, and as I towered over the king with the Rapier in hand he pleaded to me. \n\n“Quickly, kill me.” Not understanding, I hesistated before lifting up the rapior. Yet, as I swung something grabbed me, lifting me up to the sky. Turnined around a giant hand from the sky was holding me, and setting me back beside my king. New pawns were brought into the battlefield along with Rooks and Knights. \n\n“What’s going on?” I asked the Ivory King.\n\nThe old tired king with a face who has seen this thousands of times look to me with pain and despair in his eyes. \n\n“We’re starting over. For years we fight, people die. The gods that we all answer to commands us to fight over and over again. Now that you can see them, you too will learn this is us. We’re all someone's pawns in the end.”\n",
"She scowled as her compatriots as they were cut down all around her. The enemy cavalry had been harassing them for hours, picking them off one by one before darting off. It made her blood boil that there had been no reinforcements. How could they not see what was happening here, her excellency would never allow for such a slaughter to go unopposed.\n\nLifting her pike high with a roar, she pierced the armor of a knight as he passed by her. He screamed as it pushed through his shoulder and forced him off his mount. With adrenaline-fueled strength, she forced her spear down on his sternum, staring into his eyes as they slowly lost focus. She sighed as she heard the sound of cavalry in the distance. It was never enough.\n\nSuddenly, a yell rang out next to her. Whirling to face her opponent, she realized the man was too close for her to parry. She winced for a moment before the soldier was struck in the temple with a large mace, splattering blood and brains across the field.\n\n\"My apologies for the interruption,\" The bishop said matter of factly, shaking excess brain matter off his weapon, \"I bring grave news from the capital.\"\n\nShe felt her stomach drop as the thought occurred to her, \"The queen?\" She asked tentatively, though she knew the answer from his face.\n\n\"Dead,\" He said with a wince, \"Though she brought many wicked souls with her to the afterlife. Bless her spirit.\"\n\nShe felt her knees grow weak as it fully began to settle in for her. The queen regent had seemed invincible, her strategies infallible. This, then, was why they had not received aid, the fate of thousands left in the hands of a puppet ruler without a puppetmaster to direct him. She collapsed to her knees. They were doomed.\n\n\"This is no time for self-pity, soldier,\" The bishop said with a morbid smile, \"All is not lost yet.\"\n\nShe looked all around her, outnumbered deep inside enemy territory, and felt like that was exactly the case. But then, looking back at the radiant image of the bishop smiling down on her, she felt the sincerity of his words.\n\n\"How?\" Was all she could muster to ask. \n\nHe smirked, \"There is a reason why I sought you out among these witless pawns who struggle in futility,\" He extended a hand for her to grab, \"And why you are yet the only one who knows of the queen's demise.\"\n\nShe reluctantly clasped his hand and pulled her self out of the dirt. \"I don't understand,\"\n\n\"To be a queen like ours, what do you think matters most?\" He queried, \"Love for the king? Influential familial ties? A royal demeanor?\"\n\nShe looked at him with skeptical eyes, \"No, ours was a warrior queen,\" She said proudly, \"What mattered were her skills in both combat and strategy, and the ruthlessness with which she engaged in both.\"\n\n\"Well said,\" He said, smiling broadly, \"To be referred to as queen requires only a title, to **be** a queen is much more than that.\"\n\n\"What is your point then, clergyman,\" She snapped at him, \"She is no more, and will never be again,\"\n\n\"My point,\" He said calmly, \"Is that perhaps we need someone to take up the mantle of warrior queen once more. To embody her virtues and inspire and lead our soldiers in her name.\"\n\nShe stared at him in silence, taking her time to digest his proposition.\n\n\"I am not worthy,\" She finally declared, prompting a laughter from the bishop,\n\n\"If I believed that I would have left you here to be struck down like the rest of these pawns,\" He smiled wickedly, \"But worry not, there is a test.\"\n\nShe raised an eyebrow at his comment but tried her best to remain composed. \"Fine,\" She sighed, \"Tell me of this test.\"\n\nHe beamed back at her, reaching into his pack to pull out a piece of armor. \"You will don this armor,\" He tossed them to her, \"And you will attempt to reach the other side of the battlefield without perishing in the attempt.\"\n\nNow it was her time to laugh, \"You can't be serious, there's no way for anyone to make it all the way to the other side alive,\"\n\n\"Which is exactly why it must be done,\" The bishop finally tossed her an intricate blade and turned to leave, \"For who else could wade across such a battlefield and live except for a true warrior queen.\"\n\nAnd then he was gone, his divine justice no doubt ready to be delivered on another front before long. She was left standing in the mud holding armor worth more than her entire life in wages. With a sigh, she looked over at the opposite side of the war zone, and the countless bodies that littered the space in-between. Well, if she was going to die, she figured she might as well die while looking great. \n\n",
"I went first, two spaces. It's easy to feel confident when you are in a long line with your friends. But up front by yourself? Terrifying. \n\nMy counterpart on the other side advanced the same way. We stared each other down, menacing each other with our weapons but not moving to strike. Around us pieces fell left and right. Bishop George was taken by a black Knight. The Queen fell to the same legendary knight. \n\nAll around the battlefield he hopped taking piece after piece until he was finally brought down by a well placed Rook. After both sides were worn down it was just us two pawns against each other with our Kings standing behind us.\n\nThe two infirm old men danced around us, swords wobbling shakily in the air. They eyed each other intensely watching for any weakness. Then the black King blinked and our King made his move. He struck at the back of the pawn opposite me and he fell in a heap. \n\nThe black king shuffled to the side in fear. He was alone now with his back to the wall. Together the king and I moved forward. \n\nSlowly closing in on the hapless king I raised my sword but then paused. If I struck this whole process would begin again. But if I held... I sheathed my sword. The King yelled but I paid him no mind. I merely eyed the black king and spread my arms out. \n\nHe didn't hesitate. The black Kings sword bit into my side. As I collapsed into the black Kings arms I uttered my last word.\n\n\"Stalemate.\"",
"There were 80,000 of us, brothers, as we look about the sacred War grounds, as we looked about and laughed and drank, hoping something would calm the nerves. Fear doesn't have a place in the battlefield, the fearful pawn falls first. \n\nWe are nothing, every single one of the thousands of us. Not one of us comes even close to the eight behind us. We are but shields. There is neither white nor black for us, only the enemy in front of us, and the enemy behind us. \n\nThe war horn serenades us, with its soothing tone. Funny, how in the groans and cries of brothers, even a horn sounds beautiful. \n\nOne by one, the squadrons march on, raining blood on the ground, as thousands are felled, and thousands yet kill for their life, move after move, turn after turn.\n\nIn the midst of battle, we spot the cunning old *Vizeer* with his blade sparkling blue. How he moves around with the strength of an elephant and the righteousness of the Bishop. Lord knows he's anything but. He slices throats left and right while thousands more are slaughtered around us. \n\nThe Cavalry charges from the base and is decimated almost instantly. We smile, looking at these people that are dying on all four sides of us. None of them is more powerful than us, none of them is weaker.\n\nThrough many a cavalry units and elephants and men we drive our band, driving our spear through uncountable bishops and horses and camels, when at last we are alone, atop the hills of the enemy king. All but a few paces from their camp. \n\nWe find their *Vizeer's* dagger, left but a few feet away from where we stand. We feel the blade in our hand and feel the strength in our veins. We can kill the king! We can end this war! \n\nWe move, swift and silent, cold and deadly, till we stand right behind the King. \"Check\", we call out, and there begins the dance, not for the first time, and not for the last, until a sword falls, and with it, an empire.\n\n\n\nNote: In India, The Minister is often called The Vizeer, The Rook is called The Elephant and The Knight is called The Horse."
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[removed] | [WP] Aliens have landed. They had the technology to travel here but there's still some human technology that they find amazing. | 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\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/8jzgzl/wp_aliens_have_landed_they_had_the_technology_to/%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 just been imprisoned for life for killing a baby. Your secret: you're a time-traveller from the future and the baby would have grown up to be the worst mass murderer in history. | 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",
"Drip drip drip.\n\nThe sound of a busted leaky pipe in Carl’s cell soils the floor.\n\nCarl, laying on his steel cot covered with a pink duvet, tosses a racquet ball up in the air.\n\n‘I just have nothing.’ He thinks tossing the ball higher and higher.\n\n‘No ones gonna come back.’\n\nDrip drip drip.\n\nHe frowns and really hurls the ball with all his might at the ceiling.\n\n‘Doing this service’, the general-bot tells him, ‘will not only save your species, but allow you to experience a male human orgasm again.’\n\n‘I wish I never would have left!’\n\nHis cell was at least not padded like some solitary blocks. He kinda wished he had a roommate, but no he was never offered such a luxury. The only thing keeping him going is to see X-tanity again, even if there was no pleasure anymore.\n\nThe slot on the steal door opens and a tray with greenish brownish slop gets pushed in. The slide returns to its starting position.\n\nCarl sighs and swings his bare feet to the cement floor.\n\nHe walks over and retrieves the tray of what appears to be pig slop and sits back down.\n\nCarl wasn’t even sent back with a photo of X-tanity. All he has are the memories of him and her- and their child.\n\n‘Daddy, I’m all ready for school!’ Timmy told his dad. \n\n Carl wrestles him to the floor causing Timmy to laugh. Then Carl picks him up and pushes a button on Timmy’s coat to make it zip up automatically.\n\n‘Well you look all tucked up nice!’ \n\nTimmy nodded admiring the work. \n\n‘Oh and before I forget Timmy, work has asked me to stay a bit after work. I hope that’s ok with you!’\n\nTimmy frowns, ‘Ok.’\n\n‘Hey! Don’t worry, ok? They just want to give me some big ol’ award! Now run along!’\n\nThat was the last time he saw him alive.\n\nOnce the Floater Bus left he walked over to the corner of the street where the ‘Quickies’ transmitting booth was. \n\nHe instantly walks up to the Robo-receptionist.\n\n‘By the scan of your face and pulse rate your here to see your wife.’\n\n‘Yeah.’ He smiled at the machine, it smiled back.\n\nHe enters a hallway with dinosaurs on the walls. After many turns, amazing he remembered the right path he got to the room.\n\nHe turned off the loud rock music trying to spur her conciseness to come forward.\n\nShe had been lying in there for several weeks and the Robo-docs have not given her a great outlook.\n\n‘I’m very sorry. But there has not been any change in your wife’s brain actually.”\n\nCarl begins to cry.\n\n‘Oh doc! Isn’t there anything I can do? Anything? Carl begs.\n\nThe robot sighs, showing a little human emotion.\n\n‘Now this is not a guarantee. But I know a guy.’\n\n‘Wait? Like another robot?’\n\nThe doc nods.",
"I looked into the TV screen. His eyes were manic, yet, as he was taken away, they conveyed another emotion.\n\nTotal and utter confidence. No sense of forgiveness, of remorse.\n\nI felt it. Others in the nation felt it too. Pure malice, in human form. Evil without explanation, without reason. \n\nThe president's newborn daughter. Fresh out of the hospital. The First Lady, then a proud new mother, excitedly showed her firstborn off to the cameras surrounding the checkpoint. Despite the violent flashing of the cameras around her, she was sleeping peacefully. \n\nViolet, the First Lady said, was her name.\n\nAll around the country, Republicans and Democrats alike watched the baby being shown off and coddled. Family is a universal constant. Nobody on this earth could disagree with that.\n\nOr so we thought. \n\nThe man was tackled right after the deed, cameras cutting off, his bloody knife skittering to the edge of the sidewalk where a secret service member picked it up, face pale with nausea. I was next to him. I remember the look on her face, on the president's face. Not a look of sadness, or even anger, but a blank stare. These people had been through so much political turmoil, these giants... only to have been brought down by an evil with no cause.\n\nIt was sickening.\n\nThey resigned shortly after. In turn, so did I.\n\nI stayed alive through spite. I was to blame, only I could fix this mess. The Evil had to be brought to justice. It was currently sitting in a cushy mental institution, his smarmy lawyer managing to wrangle an insanity plea from him. This was due to the fact that the only thing he would say is something along the lines of \"You wouldn't believe me if I told you. I have no regrets.\" Fucking lunatic.\n\nHis cell was locked tighter than Alcatraz on steroids. I wasn't the only one out for his blood, after all. Years, decades passed, the guilt wearing down on me like sandpaper. In that time, I managed to get his ID. Jay Hagoe, 36. He looked mighty old for a 36 year old, but I suppose being a complete headcase would do that to you. \n\nMore decades passed. The bit was improved upon, the qubit took its place. The world had, for the mostpart, forgotten the horrible incident. When someone was going mental, it was said they were going \"full Hagoe\". That's all that remained of his legacy. America forgot. I didn't.\n\nThe hairs on my head, the ones remaining anyhow, were all gray. Yet still I held out hope. There must be some way to deal of justice, the kind I should have dealt when he came up to Violet all those years ago...\n\n\"Time travel. It's fucking real man.\"\n\nMe and my old Secret Service buddy had a yearly tradition of going up to Boston and chowing down in the Ol' Plaza. This time he had brought his grandson who, following the precedent his old old man set for him, was in the Service.\n\n\"Watch your mouth, son.\" My buddy reprimanded him, without anger. \"You lost your mind? I'm too old for games like this.\"\n\nSprout shook his head. \"Governments worldwide banned it as soon as they heard of it, of course. Labs were shut down, scientists eliminated, all hush-hush. I really shouldn't be telling you guys this but...\" he struggled, finding the right words. \"Well, come on man! Fucking time travel!\"\n\nI stared at my glass. My mind was racing.\n\n\"Well, we still have some scientists working on it, of course. In case some sort of mega Hitler ever pops up. Protocol is to just kill him young and stay silent. Y'know, if...\"\n\nI excused myself from the table and rushed home, under pretext of forgetting to shut my oven off. A lame excuse, I know, but this was the end game. If sprout was telling the truth, that is. \n\nThere was only one lab they could be working this project on. I'd only accompanied POTUS there a handful of times, but due to the sensitive subjects in the lab, I knew every corner of it by heart. And with that, every security weakness, every blind spot.\n\nI may have been old, but I could still carry a gun. And scientists were still smart enough to not question a guy wielding one. \n\n45 now. Jay Hagoe was now 45. I got in the room sized machine, scientists crumpled into a comical heap on the outside of it. I subtracted 45 from the current year and punched the green button. I didn't care if it turned me into jelly. All I cared about was that my salvation had a chance of being reached.\n\nI was not disappointed.\n\nI memorized the place of birth. I posed as an uncle going to give a gift to his nephew. I went up to the room and shot the baby in the head. My memories were not erased, no, and I could not check whether the operation had been a success or not, as the machine was a one way trip. \n\nBut I knew it had been. In my own time, a nation would remain happy. Good men and women would remain good. There would be no true evil. I was not sorry.\n\nThey asked me why I did it. I laughed. \n\n\"You would never believe me\""
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[WP] The next hero selected by the Light to fight the darkness arises, only to find that said dark forces are more righteous and moral than those that appointed the hero. | 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",
"“Ours is an Ancient fight \\-\\- the only fight. It has raged on since that first day of Creation when we sprang forth from the Darkness, adding our voice to the eternal rhythm, ‘I am, I am, I am.’”\n\nHe knew this dream. It visited him quite often \\-\\- his Invocation Day. The day when he was chosen as Leader of the First Regiment.\n\nHe saw it as he did that day, from his own perspective. Golden light danced across the waves of white linen sprawling before him. This was his army \\-\\- his calling.\n\nThe speaker continued:\n\n“And now, my son, we call upon you to lead our fight. We ask that you represent and defend the right to our existence \\-\\- to think, to breathe, to be. For if we lapse in our vigilance, if we rest in our struggle, we surely will return to that place from which we once miraculously escaped.”\n\n“Rise, now.”\n\nHe knew this would be a good place to wake up, but he couldn’t face the morning just yet. Not this morning at least. For, just on the other side of consciousness, a reckoning awaited him. At Dawn, his Regiment would meet it’s adversary \\-\\- a collision of Light and Dark. He needed just a bit more time.\n\n“Rise.”\n\nAnd so he did. Standing over that sea of white from atop the dais, he found himself a bit disoriented. How had he been chosen? It seemed that just moments before, he too had been floating in that great white sea. Yet, here he was. Breathing. Seeing. Being. Surely he deserved it.\n\nThree figures, cloaked in white, approached him from below, climbing the staircase to his perch on high. Though each step brought them forward, they seemed to shrink back into the expanse before him. They were slipping away. Or, rather, he was stretching skyward.\n\nStill, reflections of the ethereal glow reflected forth from these three travelers. They were carrying gifts. The speaker’s voice echoed from below:\n\n“And so, my child, accept our offerings: A scepter, to stake your claim in this world. A sword, to attack those who might threaten it. And a crown, to let the world know you were Chosen.”\n\nThe light from these three gifts grew blinding. Suddenly, there was nothing.\n\nAnd then he remembered.\n\nNothing. Nowhere. No one.\n\nHe had been in that great sea of white. Yet, within it’s warm embrace, there was no light. There was no darkness. There simply was Not.\n\nHe had no name, for he did not need one. He was all that surrounded him. A Oneness.\n\nWhy, then, did they cast him out? Why was he Chosen? Why did they Damn him to this existence?\n\nWhen he came to, he found his pedestal had reached beyond anything he could see below. He was alone \\-\\- clutching a scepter, wielding a sword, wearing a crown.\n\nHe felt pride. He felt sick.\n\nIt was time to wake up.\n\nAccepting his fate, he opened his eyes.\n\n“Welcome, Michael, my son.”"
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Or alternatively: you are the security administrator, and you've been called on-site as the system is under attack. | [WP] The universe is a simulation. You are the system administrator. You've just been called on-site to fix a series of catastrophic errors. | 28 | [
"**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 raucous noise interrupted my slumber. I hit my alarm by reflex, and stared at it in confusion as the noise continued. Oh, right.\n\nI covered each ear with a tentacle and moved to get up. What eon was it, anyway? Groggily, I slid over to my phone and hit \"receive\".\n\n UNIV/3 SECT/72 SIMUL DENSITY CRITICAL\n\nPseudopods. That's not going to be a quick fix. I poked at the phone a couple more times, setting myself to active duty and marking the issue as operator inbound. Then I lurched towards the bathroom to make myself presentable.\n\nI made good time to the office. Helps that there was almost no traffic on the lines. Guess that's one perk to being woken up early.\n\nThe portal guard took one glance at my credentials and quietly moved out of my way. Good move. Not wise to try to talk with a grumpy universe technician, and any senior universe technician who gets called out in the middle of their sleep period is going to be grumpy.\n\nI reached the server room and plugged myself into the debugging console. Time to figure out what's going on.\n\n universe 3 $ univ stats --short --sector=72\n DAT: 1.6e27\n UOPS/e: 10.2\n\nOof. 1.6e27? Simulation data shouldn't be above 1e26! No surprise that it was running at a tenth of its expected UOPS.\n\n universe 3 $ univ subsectors --sector=72 --sort=DAT | head -1\n 72:484 1.5e27 1.2e72 47.3\n\nWhat could possibly be happening in a single subsector to push it up to 1.5e27 DAT? Well, I could figure that out later. Damage control first.\n\n universe 3 $ univ freeze --sector=72 --subsector=484\n Freezing [=========================] 100%\n Freeze complete.\n universe 3 $ univ stats --short --sector=72\n UNIVERSE HAS FROZEN SYSTEMS. Frozen systems are NOT included in the stats below!\n DAT: 7.5e25\n UOPS/e: 97.2\n\nOkay, good, taking that subsector out brought everything else back in line. I looked at the system time and sighed. If I headed home now, I'd barely have a chance to fall asleep before it was time to come back. Might as well start the day early, I guess.\n\n universe 3 $ univ pack --sector=72 --subsector=474 --output=/shared/debug/exports/bloated_3_72_484.exp\n Packing [=========================] 100%\n Exported to /shared/debug/exports/bloated_3_72_484.exp\n\nMan, these commands take forever to run with so much data. Oh, well, time to fire up a test universe.\n\n universe 42 (TEST) $ univ status\n Universe not running. No sectors found.\n universe 42 (TEST) $ univ unpack /shared/debug/exports/bloated_3_72_484.exp --sector=1 --subsector=1\n Unpacking [=========================] 100%\n Import successful.\n universe 42 (TEST) $ univ start\n Starting [ ] 0%\n ERROR: All sectors are frozen.\n Unable to start universe.\n\nDammit.\n\n universe 42 (TEST) $ univ unfreeze --all\n Unfreezing [=========================] 100%\n Unfreeze complete.\n universe 42 (TEST) $ univ start\n Starting [=========================] 100%\n Universe started.\n universe 42 (TEST) $ univ stats --short\n DAT: 1.5e27\n UOPS/e: 10.6\n universe 42 (TEST) $ univ sampleuops --short | head -5\n RACT 1:1:87:512:3\n RECL 1:1:87:512:3\n RACT 1:1:87:512:3\n SANC 1:1:87:512:3\n ERY 1:1:87:512:3\n\nReally? All of this was a single planet? 1.5e27 DAT for ONE PLANET? Well, on the upside, at least that made it easy to debug further. Just need to go into interactive mode.\n\n universe 42 (TEST) $ univ interact 1:1:87:512:3\n Starting interactive mode [=========================] 99%\n\nIn retrospect, I probably should have specified an entrance point, since like 70% of this planet is covered in salt water. Annoyed with myself, I closed my eyes against the stinging liquid, swam to the surface, and took a look around. The water was remarkably active, but that wouldn't be enough to cause so much bloat. Fortunately, I'd gotten lucky, and there was land nearby, so I wouldn't have to back out and wait for interactive mode to start again.\n\nAs I got closer to the shore, I could see that it was covered in some sort of strange rock formation, spires way too tall for a world with this active a hydrosphere. Mostly rectangular. And there were some things floating on the water, too. The closer I got, the stranger it all looked.\n\n* * *\n\n\"What the hell is that?\" someone asked, pointing out towards the bay. A gigantic tentacled monstrosity was slowly emerging from the water.\n\nI grinned. At last. I turned towards the monster, spread my arms, and screamed, \"Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn!\" What had wakened him, I did not know, but I ran towards the beach to serve my lord."
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[removed] | [WP] The universe is in complete chaos: powerful beings are fighting all over the place, destroying countless galaxies. Michael and Gabriel refuse to intervene. In all of this destruction, a hero is willing to save us... Lucifer. | 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 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/8kcjmg/wp_the_universe_is_in_complete_chaos_powerful/%0A%0A)\n\n*This action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things.*"
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The ancient and powerful villain may had a calm and gentle face as they spoke, but they were furious. Not at the heroes, but at the gods and prophets for continually sending kids and teenagers to fight their battles. | [WP] "Shh, it's alright." The villain said. "You're doing beautifully and I'm so proud of you. But that's enough now... It was cruel of them to make you fight me. You never had a chance. It's not your fault." | 75 | [
"**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",
" \"Shh, it's alright.\" The villain said. \"You're doing beautifully and I'm so proud of you. But that's enough now... It was cruel of them to make you fight me. You never had a chance. It's not your fault.\"\n\nThe ancient and powerful villain may have had a calm and gentle face as they spoke, but it was furious. Not at the heroes, but at the gods and prophets for continually sending kids and teenagers to fight their battles.\n\nSyl’s whole life had been leading up to this moment. She spat a mixture of blood and saliva into the dust as she rose from yet another brutal tumble, and squared her bright, determined eyes to the beast. “Stop!” He commanded her, as she charged yet again towards his monolithic form. Metal clashed with impenetrable flesh, and yet again, she was wrenched from her feet and flung hard against the earth. Tears of frustration pooled in her eyes - she was made for this moment. She had visualised it since before she could remember, and now here she was, failing at her one purpose in life.\n\n“Guardians don’t give up” she thought to herself as she lay on the ground, methodically checking which body parts she could still move. Resilience: the last key attribute guardians were tested on before they could graduate from the Academy. Syl had been so proud, in her gown, she had beamed as she accepted her certificate. The bruises barely showed beneath her sleeves. Qualified Guardian, the paper said. She accepted it with both hands as her ears rung with applause from the citizens she was duty bound to protect. She was ready for her first mission, almost trembling with excitement at the prospect of vanquishing her first beast. The prophets had sent her here in their wisdom. She had been chosen. \n\n“How many are they going to send? What number are you?” Syl lifted her weary eyes upwards towards the sound of the voice. “Huh? I don’t- I don’t understand.”\n“You’re not the first, little one. They’ve sent many to try and slaughter the great beast. Not many last as long as you have, though.” \n\nThere had been others before her. This was news to Syl. She cast her mind back over her teachers…surely they wouldn’t send her to a place so many had failed to return from. They cared for her, loved her, even. They could have intervened - although, arguing with the prophets was forbidden. Couldn’t they have warned her, somehow? She had been at the Academy since she was four years old. Surely the least she deserved was the truth. Syl froze in horror has she recalled the beaming faces of last year’s graduates. How many of them had failed to return? How many of them had the prophets knowingly sent to their deaths? If she wasn’t the first… what number was she?\n\nShe reached for her sword, and for the first time in her life, hesitated. The city she had sworn to protect had sent her to her death. Her whole life she had been told she was special, that her role was sacred, and it dawned on her for the first time that all she was to them was expendable. \n\nThe Academy only accepted children. Most of its pupils were street children, those who’d been orphaned or abandoned by parents too destitute, drunk, or indifferent to raise them. It took them in and fed and clothed them when no-one else would. It trained these children, and, as their legal protectors, had almost total control over their lives. Every child who entered those doors lived for one purpose only: to guard and protect, whatever the cost. Syl fingered the words embroidered on her tunic as she recalled the oath she had made every day. It had never occurred to her before exactly what the cost might be. She knew guardians were expected to die for their city, if that’s what it took, but she didn’t expect to find so much resistance in herself. Resistance was not tolerated at The Academy. This feeling was a new one for Syl. And she liked it. \n\n“Alright.” She called, her voice wavering with uncertainty. “I’ll stop. I’m not going to fight you any more.” She let her sword clatter to the ground for effect, and the weary muscles in her left arm ached with relief. She removed her helmet, and let her dark hair fall free. \n\n“You’re so young.” The beast said. “You have made the right decision. I do not wish to extinguish your flame so soon after it has been lit.” He paused, and took her in. Sturdy boots, trousers caked in dust, and her reinforced leather jacket, all Academy issue. The only difference between her and the countless other teenagers that had been sent his way was the glimmer of defiance in her eyes. They hadn’t quite managed to break her. “Have you ever considered…” he asked her, “what the true evil in this world is?”. She furrowed her brow:\n“The threats to the city - the beasts and demons that threaten our way of life and challenge our gods in their wisdom.” \n“And these wise gods, what do they do?”\n“Well they… “\n“Why do you protect them, little one? All they do is send children like you to their deaths.” \n“It is our duty!” Syl countered. “The reason we live - the prophets say it is no accident that our fate brought us to the Academy.”\nThere was anger in his voice now: “It is no accident because they hunted you down. They ripped you from the arms of your mothers - too destitute or looked down upon to be taken seriously, should they ever complain - not that they ever would! You know what the prophets do to those who question their ‘wisdom’?” He shouted, towering over Syl. His terrible eyes were aflame with rage, and his lips, flecked with spittle quivered as he awaited her answer. She groped her way to her feet and met his gaze steadily, burying her fear deep within her, as she had done with her defiance at the academy. “What?” she asked. \n\nThe beast stepped back and flung his arms to the side, exposing his warped flesh. His skin was red raw, as though it had been flayed clean off and grown back, and his entire body was a latticework of scar tissue. No hair grew on his body, though it sprouted in thick, wild clumps on his head. His eyes were bloodshot and bulging, and his thin lips were almost purple as he formed the answer: “This.”\n\n“I was not always a monster. I was a guardian once, like you. And now they send me their children to slaughter. They punish us both in one move. The prophets are nothing if not…efficient.”\n\n“Punish?” Sly wondered aloud. “But I didn’t do anything, I never-“\n\n“It’s not what you did, little one, it’s who you are. They never managed to break you, though they tried, I’m sure.” The beast’s eyes glanced down to Syl’s bruised wrists, as she self consciously tugged down her sleeves. “There’s only so much resilience they really want to see. Not enough, and you’re worthless to them, too much, and you’re a threat.”\n\n“They…they did this to you?” Syl whispered. The beast nodded his weighty head in response. \n“But the others-the guardians-you killed them! They’re just kids and you slaughtered them!”\n\n“No.” The beast replied. “I never killed them. Though they send many swords after me, and it is true that none returned, I never killed any of the guardians they sent,”\n\n“Then…where are they?” She implored, desperately. Her whole world was being torn apart by this - this monster, everything she had ever known came in to question, and yet, deep down, hadn’t she always known? Hadn’t she always mistrusted the wisdom of the guardians, been wary of their proclamations? She’d hidden it, of course, but that kernel of knowledge was rushing to the surface at such an alarming speed Syl thought she was going to pass out. “Come with me.” the beast uttered. It was all she could do to put one foot in front of the other.\n",
"“Shh, it’s alright.” The supervillain Third Eye said as the would be hero was on their knees breathing heavy, bleeding from several small wounds. “You’re doing beautifully and I’m so proud of you. But that’s enough now… it was cruel of them to make you fight me. You never had a chance, it’s not your fault.”\n\nHe smiled as the war bots that he had procured stood guard over the defeated hero. The room the two were in could only be called a lair, with a massive set of screens on one wall showing a map of the progress of his takeover of Terlun city. His bots were making quick work of the city’s defenders, as well as the three villains who worked for him, who were leading the charge.\n\n“You’re wrong.” The wounded hero in leather pants and a t-shirt with one of Terlun’s local bands on it said as she slowly struggled to get up, under the watchful eye of the war bots and their powerful rifles. “You’re wrong father!” She said, standing to her full height, wiping a line of blood from her chin with the back of a hand.\n\n“See.” Third Eye said with a shake of his head. “This is why I told you not to spend time with those goody goodies of the Hero’s guild. They filled your head with all these nonsensical ideas like justice, and doing the right thing. When I take over the city, you will live however you want, but for now, let daddy work. You never had any powers to begin with, they only sent you to fight me because they thought I’d play nice with my daughter. Pricks.”\n\n“Wrong again.” Iris, who had never been granted a hero name, replied calmly, even with at least ten high powered rifles aimed at her. “I always wanted to do the right thing. Something I must have inherited from mom, may she rest in peace. And you never did pay attention to me growing up.”\n\n“What do you mean by that?” Third Eye’s smirk left his face as he looked earnestly at his nineteen year old daughter who was still playing hero.\n\n“My moral compass isn’t the only thing I inherited from mom.” Iris said, diving forward sending the war bots into a frenzy as they fired at her. She spun in a corkscrew as she sailed forwards, dodging dozens of bullets, and landing just between two war bots. Reaching out quickly with her right hand, she used her power in a real fight for the very first time. She picked up the massive war bot with one hand, and slammed it into the one on her left with enough force that both shattered into pieces.\n\n“Restrain her!” Third Eye shouted as Iris dove to the side as the remaining war bots refocused their aim on her. She ran towards the massive metal walls of the lair, zigging and zagging the whole time. When she finally reached the wall, a war bot chasing closely behind her with its right hand clutching a massive steel beam, she ran straight up the wall, getting twenty feet up before pushing off. The bot slammed into the wall and destroyed itself as Iris leapt away from the wall, bullets flying past her as she went.\n\nShe landed right on top of another bot, and ducked behind it’s back as its fellows peppered it with bullets. When the bot was little more than hole riddled scrap, she kicked it hard, sending it flying into its fellows who were still shooting it. It clipped two other bots, slicing them in two as it flew past.\n\nA spray of bullets finally found their mark, hitting Iris in the shoulder. She flinched back, but as quickly as the bullets had come, she dove at the bot who had landed the attack, ripping the sensor bank that acted as a head right off its shoulders and throwing it towards another bot’s sensor bank, exploding both.\n\nAnother spray of bullets found Iris’s left leg, and she turned to see the last war bot facing down on her. She jumped high, flipping over as another spray of bullets was fired at her. They missed their mark, and her right leg came down with enough force that there was nothing left of the bot when she made contact with the floor.\n\nTurning to her father, she cracked her knuckles and rolled out her shoulders. She felt the trio of bullet holes in her right shoulder, and shrugged at the pain. Her power didn’t make her immune to damage, but it did remove her ability to feel pain. She’d likely live through the damage the bullets did, but either way, it wasn’t effecting her fighting ability.\n\n“When did that happen.” Third Eye asked, motioning at the carnage to mean her power itself.\n\n“Puberty is a hell of a thing, dad.” She said with a predatory grin on her face. “Made all the harder when your father can’t be bothered to backburner his world domination plans to spend time with you.”\n\n“So this is all because I didn’t spend enough time with you?” Third Eye scoffed.\n\n“No, father!” Iris yelled. “This. Right here. Right now. This moment is because you are determined to take the city by force, and you must be stopped. You not spending enough time with me only explains all the problems here.” She said pointing a bloody finger at her right temple. \n\n“Well.” Third Eye smiled. “We can talk about this once Terlun is mine.” He placed a gloved hand over his chest, and when he pulled it away, the glowing green embodiment of his power was glowing through his suit. He stood tall, and focusing, shot a beam of green power that had been described by scientists as an organic laser, shot forth. \n\nIris grabbed a severed bot arm, and threw it at the incoming beam. It easily sliced through the metal, but it gave Iris a moment to dodge to the side. The beam continued past where she had been standing, and sliced through the wall twenty meters further back. Where the beam sliced through, bright daylight broke into the lair.\n\n“Don’t run, sweety!” Third Eye laughed as he simply turned to track her, the laser pouring forth from his chest slicing through more and more of the lair as it traced closer to her. She increased her speed, but her father easily kept up, as all he had to do was turn his body to face her. The beam continued to cut through the floor and walls of the lair, casting the dark gloom of the room in daylight as more sunlight pierced through the new openings.\n\n“I can keep this up all day little gem.” Third Eye laughed as he continued turning, his green laser cutting through more and more of his lair. He didn’t care, he could easily afford to replace the damage. He never saw the lump of former war bot coming, and it clipped him in the leg, sending him tumbling to the ground, his beam cutting out as his focus faltered.\n\n“You know.” Iris called out as her father quickly got back to his feet, turning to look for her. He found her with her back against a wall that was filled with holes and slices, the sunlight framing her from behind. “Mom’s not the only one I inherited powers from.” She said as she crossed her closed fists over her chest. Third Eye couldn’t believe what he was seeing as she opened each fist, revealing bright red light held in each hand. \n\nHe quickly tried to focus, reigniting his own laser, but was much too slow as twin beams of red light stabbed into his shoulders, sending him flying back into a pile of metal debris that used to be his precious warbots.\n\nHe simply laid there for a moment, the metal falling around him, not quite pinning him into place, but it felt nice to just lay down for a moment. His shoulders really hurt, Third Eye laughed to himself as he heard the footsteps approaching. He’d never be able to reignite his beam in this condition, he was done for.\n\n“Got you.” Iris said as she came to stand in front of the pile of debris.\n\n“Yep.” Third Eye sighed. “Thought of a hero name yet?”\n\n“Still working on it.”",
"This is what she strives to end, this foul brainwashing and torturing of children. The gods had never cared what evils plagued the world, and she had watched the deaths of too many loved ones to stand by any longer; in the beginning, she'd expected every day to be struck down by the gods for deliberately taking control of the world's evils and using then against the gods, but centuries later, she still lives, slowly but steadily becoming the only Evil. The stronger she became, the more \"heroes\" rose up to end her reign, but as with every hero that came before, each falls at her hand.\n\nNow there stands yet another hero between her and the last evil, so cleverly disguised with innocence; the gods did well hiding this one from her for so long, but now is the time to end it and finally, truly become the only, the last, Evil.\n\nThe hero, a young boy no older than sixteen, lies broken and dying at her feet. He struggles, desperately clinging to false hope instilled in him by vicious deities who have long since abandoned him. She bends her knee, leaning over him with care. Her expression is calm, weary, gentle, but inside she rages, wailing and cursing the monsters on their golden thrones who send child after child to die at her hand.\n\n\"Shh,\" she whispers, caressing his cheek. He finches away, but can't go far, his body already succumbing. \"It's alright; you've done beautifully. I'm proud of you... But that's enough now.\"\n\n\"No...!\" he coughs, choking on blood. \"Th- This isn't... the end..! The g- gods chose me!\"\n\n\"It was cruel of them to make you fight me,\" she says softly, tired of this, of every terrible battle she must endure to end it all. \"You never had a chance; it's not your fault.\" She reaches out again, gently but firmly cradling the back of his neck.\n\n\"I... won't... It won't end this way!\" he gasps, a whine of pleading in his voice; he is begging for help that will never come, and she wishes desperately that it could be another way. Leaning down, she kisses his forehead, and at last, he breathes his last, his body relaxing into her arms.\n\nGrieving, she stands, and with almost no effort, the last evil is killed.\n\nThe last evil but her.\n\nShe is now the one and only Evil, and at long last, she turns her face to the sky, to the thrones of the seething gods.\n\n\"You have lost,\" she cries. \"You will fall now, as all have, and as all will; soon, even you shall enter in my embrace, for I am Death, the Last Evil.\"",
"\"We are told at birth 'Duty before self.'\" Umbra's murmurs were as tender as a lullaby. If not for the spell restraining her, she might have thought him gentle, \"We are told to sacrifice our homes, our family, our lives in the name of the greater good.\"\n\nEnergy depleted, Corona gathered enough strength to spit at him, \"We do not question the gods, and the prophecy must be fulfilled. We cannot fight fate.\"\n\nWith his back turned, she heard a gasp, and when he turned around, she blinked against his anguished expression. Shaking his head, his thick, long dread locks trembled like tentacles at his shoulders, and despite the heat boiling underneath her skin, she shivered.\n\n\"Shh, it's alright.\" A slim, sharpened finger came to his lips. As much as she fought, she could not jerk her head away when his hand curled protectively around her chin, \"You're doing beautifully, my child, and I am so proud of you.\"\n\n\"You \\- you monster, the gods!\"\n\nDid pity control his gaze? She wondered, and peering into his gaze, she realized it was something more humane, more sorrowful than she imagined.\n\n\"The gods care nothing for us.\" He answered, \"But that's enough now,\" he nodded in agreement to an invisible source, \"yes, it was cruel of them to make you fight me. You never had a chance. It's not your fault.\"\n\nHe cradled her in his arms as the spell relinquished its hold, and to her surprise, she clung to him as hot tears stained his bare skin. He caressed her hair and brought his lips to her ear, \"You are brave, young one. Use your strength for you people, not your oppressors.\"\n\nShe opened her mouth to correct him. *They were not*. But what belief trespassed into her heart now?\n\nClouds of night swirled at his feet, engulfing him in glittering stardust. In his eyes were pools of sorrow, of shame, of smoldering fury promising more than vengeance as he sunk into the sands of time.\n\nGasping, she wiped away her tears and stared dumbly at where he last stood. \n\nShe failed.\n\nShe had failed the gods.\n\nAnd she was afraid.\n\nBut oh, she was relieved."
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[removed] | [WP] A scientist discovers that people who hear "Laurel" always see the dress as gold and white. She shows her geneticist buddy and he eventually discovers a DNA difference in the Laurel people. A difference not of this world. | 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/8ke8om/wp_a_scientist_discovers_that_people_who_hear/%0A%0A)\n\n*This action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things.*"
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"1526659038",
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[WP] in this world the orbit has stopped and there are 2 different kingdoms, The the morning kingdoms and the night kingdom, and Both are at war with each other | 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",
"\"We first knew of them, the *Nsilli*, when they emerged from the cold fog from a distance on a fateful cloudy day. Clad in black, shadowy cloaks that billowed behind them as they marched forward, they approached our gleaming fortress of the North like moths to a flame. As their uncountable ranks advanced their deathly war machines followed, unleashing dark energies that smothered the fortress in shadow, sucking the light out of the numerous torches we had throughout the fortress.\n\nTheir warriors charged as our guards stumbled in the sudden darkness, tearing through our gates like a flood and killing everyone standing in their way. They breached our outer walls, forcing their way into the city. Our mages desperately poured out torrents of Light into the city to that briefly illuminated the pitch black lands, but their attempts were quickly blanketed by the overwhelming darkness. Forced to fight in the dark our men were cut down by the dozens.\n\nBut the *Nsilli* lost track of time, and couldn't stop the inevitable movement of the clouds. The rays of the Sun penetrated the dark shield that covered the lands as the clouds parted, blinding the enemy and forcing them to retreat to the Northern fog. We barely managed to survive that attack.\"\n\n- *Xiaduu* Memory Stone III, recovered by *Xiaduu* archeologists on Year 2736, Day 886\\*\n\n\\*: The *Xiaduu* measure time with changes in the brightness of the *Genii* Crystal that marks the core of their civilisation. \n\n---\n\n\"Our navigators long knew of the presence of the Sun. It remained at the other part of the world, continuing to cover it in Light. Despite the fog that covered them, we knew there were other beings that lived there.\n\n*Xiaduu*. That was what they called themselves. Our druids sensed their poisonous presence in their meditation, the painful essence they call Light. While Light rejuvenates them, energises them, for us Light burns through our skin, maiming us and blinding us.\n\nWe first sent our expeditionary forces into the Fog. The clouds had covered the deadly rays of the Sun, however the *Xiaduu* had developed ways of conjuring Light. Fortunately, our warlocks and engineers built machines elementally infused with Darkness, to overwhelm any source of Light with utter Darkness. While it couldn't compete with the raw power of the Sun it allowed our army to strike at a city of Light and erect a barrier of Darkness until the clouds cleared.\n\nUnfortunately, we could not control the weather. As if to mock our relentless efforts to battle the Light the clouds parted, giving way to the deadly rays of the Sun to strike at our men. Screams of terror and pain echoed through the ruins of the *Xiaduu* fortress — screams of *our* men — as they ran for the soothing cover of Darkness through the fog.\n\nThis would be the first of the War Against Light.\"\n\n- Excerpt from a *Nsilli* history record, on the First *Xiaduu*-*Nsilli* War of *Xiaduu* Year 224. The *Xiaduu* Calendar will be used for further description of date and time.\n\n---\n\nYear 2788, Day 219. \n\n\"It moved! By the Crystal, I swear it moved!\" insisted the short man. His eyelids were blackened and charred from overexposure to Light from his observations of the Sun, and he was covered in sweat.\n\n\"Qay, I'm *not* saying I don't believe you, but the Theory of Static Orbit—\"\n\n\"If you don't believe me, Jiiln, just say it.\" \n\nThe woman, who towered over the short man, breathed. She pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed, before her eyes met the man's. \"Fine, I don't believe you.\"\n\n\"Come with me.\" said the man, who turned around sharply before proceeding further into his laboratory. Jiiln watched Qay's back as he walked further in the room before she gave another sigh and reluctantly followed. She didn't have the time for the mad ravings of an aged philosopher, nor did she even want to listen. Why the administration even gave him the go-ahead to conduct his experiments was a question she asked herself every day since she was assigned as his supervisor by the government.\n\nIn the lab, Qay stood behind his desk. It had dozens of papers messily laid over it, but in Qay's excitement he swept them all off his desk before grabbing several other papers from the electronic telescope behind him. He flipped them over to reveal several black-and-white pictures of the Sun, along with measurements by the side.\n\n\"I see numbers, a giant circle, lines,\" said Jiiln in mock excitement, her finger pointing to each feature on the pictures as she spoke, \"Great! That's all the evidence we need to prove that the *frelling* Sun moved from static orbit!\"\n\n\"No, look at the worlds behind the Sun — *Genhil* and *Xiaa*,\" Qay said, his finger indicating to two darker circles behind the Sun. He shifted Jiiln's attention to the next picture, pointing at the same two circles. \"See, they haven't moved, but the Sun has. Look at this one, too.\"\n\n\"That's—that's impossible.\" insisted Jiiln.\n\n\"It's supposed to be, but now it's not. It's moving at a ridiculous rate away from our part of the world. By now the Sun's Light has probably left our Eastern borders forcing them to fully rely on their elemental torches, and—\"\n\nA beeping on Jiiln's and Qay's mobile link devices interrupted Qay, and they shared a glance before tearing the devices from their belts.\n\n~~~\n\nI hope this is a good start. The first two parts were meant to establish the world and set the background for the following story, I hope it didn't drag on too long. Hope you liked it! If you did, check out /r/TheWriterDiaper for more! If you didn't, say so! Aaaand check out /r/TheWriterDiaper to see if I actually follow your advice.\n\nThanks for reading!"
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"1526691437",
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. | [WP] A young child runs away from home because of their parents and meets a homeless persom who tries to convince them to go back | 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",
"Patter patter, it thought. Like the lightest of raindrops on the softest of flesh—oh, how it loved when they ran. Their light bodies bouncing, their tender feet tapping and slapping the wet stones of the stairs. \n\nIt liked to hide here. At the bottom of the dark beneath the bridge under the village; it liked to listen here, eager for the coming of the young, brave and foolish. It liked to wait here, in the skin of a man in the rags of a vagabond, as hungry stomachs hide behind white teeth. \n\nIt liked to eat here, but tonight—on a windless night of moonlit drizzle—it would make a rare exception. \n\n“Hello!?” cried the child, descending the final steps. \n\n“Come closer” a voice returned. “Here, child, share shelter with me from this rain, and tell me why you venture out on this night.”\n\nWith his little shoulders shaking, he fixed his eyes steady and called out again to the shadow that spoke. “I am here to find the beast that took my younger sister. My mother and father say it hides in dark places and-” he hesitates, rallying his small courage and shivering from the rain, “they said that it eats our village’s children.”\n\n“Stories, child!” said the beast. “Tell me—where are your mother and father now? Why have they let you run about in a world of such monsters?” \n\nStepping closer, as drizzle turned to downpour, the boy said “they have gone to a farther town. They seek to find a warrior who will slay this monster and honor my sister!”\n\n“Oh!” said the monster, “and honored she shall be.” It spoke while not moving, save the salivation behind its lips. \n\n“By me, stranger” said the boy, now holding his weak body rigid, “I am a great warrior, and I will kill this creature myself! For my sister who sleeps in heaven, and my sister who sleeps on earth, I will end this monster myself!”\n\nThe beast perked what parts it heard with. “Your sister on earth, child? Does she now sleep alone?”\n\n“She does not sleep at all, stranger. Not while this creature lives.”\n\nTwo meals in one night. This, it thought, was too tasty to miss. Uncoiling from its guise, it spoke in hisses its last words that bothered to mimic the sound of men. It had waited long enough. “Oh child”, it said, “Why don’t you go to her? Why don’t you…take me to her? For I hunger!”\n\nLike a shadow bleeding its blackness, the beast transformed before the wide eyes of the child. Grotesque, powerful; a slithering shapelessness whose only recognizable feature was a dripping, drooling mouth. \n\n“Run home, little boy.”\n\nPatter patter—oh, how it loved when they ran."
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"1526694437",
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[WP] You can gain insights into a person's true personality by reading their writing. You've used this abilitiy to help guide your students. One day you discover a student whose true personality is vile, twisted, and entirely sinister. | 50 | [
"**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",
"One day your a teacher, the next day you are swinging upside down above a pit of... is that lava?\n\nTerry was always a pretty good student. He used to have to type everything because it was in his 504 plan or PPT or whatever.\n\nHe had allegedly develped hypergraphia, due to having ADHD.\n\nIf you asked me now I would say he had should have been diagnosed with conduct disorder too.\n\nI think maybe in hindsight, he knew about my powers, that he was pretending to have hypergraphia, that he fooled his mom by writing really fast and purposely not holding the pencil correctly.\n\nMy mistake was asking for him to write the answer to that algebra problem on the board. \n\nI was having all of the student write the answer to each problem. There were 30 kids and 30 problems. \n\nIt would have been unfair to skip him.\n\nWhen he scribbled out the answer in that illegible scrawl of his, I knew, just then I *knew*, that this kid had something deeply disturbed.\n\nIt wasn't the fact that his writing was illegible, in fact most of the time that showed a mind that was otherwise fast paced. It was the fact that it was *indistinguishable* from the genuine article.\n\nIf not for my powers, I would have simply shrugged, believing that his writing was just that of someone with his alleges condition.\n\nBut I knew it was not. I knew that although the end product was identical, seeing him write was like watching a master artist paint a still life for me.\n\nMy biggest mistake was asking him if I could see his notes.\n\nHe may not have known about my powers. \n\nHe may have thought that he had slipped up somewhere in his facade.\n\nEither way he knew that I knew his own personal notes would have been written completely legibly.\n\nHe didn't write notes often. He was allowed to have a computer in class. But that day he had left it at home and had been writing things down in a notebook.\n\nAfter that I blacked out.\n\nNow I am upside-down, over a lava pit.\n\nWhere did he even get this? It isn't like you can just buy this kind of thing on Ebay.\n\nHe starts to slow clap into the room like a supervillian. I am going to explode with laughter.\n\nHis clapping is cheesy, but his outfit is down right tacky.\n\nHe had put on, like a blinking cape? It was like he sewed LED lights into a blanket. He had wore under it a black suit, or it might have been a tux.\n\nEither way it was the kind of thing you would wear to a middleschool prom.\n\nI think I even saw him wear it at the last formal dance I chaperoned.\n\nHe was like 12. And you could really tell in that moment he was 12. He was a 12 year old wanna be Batman villain crossed with a wanna be James Bond villain.\n\nHe has started his monologue. I just can't get over that outfit. I guess while he was suppose to be paying attention in class, he had been learning how to hack and program in stuff.\n\nI guess that is why he never seemed to do that well on tests as I think he could have.\n\nHe wasn't in danger of failing, but I always thought if he had really put in the effort he could have been taking some of the more advanced math classes.\n\nThere was a bit of irony somewhere in that situation but right now I can't really see it.\n\nHe concluded that he knew had a feeling I had powers like his, and that he knew once I was certain that I would try to rat him out to his parents.\n\nYeah he is like 12, if anything I didn't care that he didn't have hypergraphia, I cared that he was clearly disturbed and I would have been genuinely concerned that he receive the help he needed.\n\nWhenever I see problems like that, I always try to make sure the person gets help. \n\nIt was all I really used my powers for. I actually planned to have all of the kids right on the board as just a quick way to check in on all of them at once. Made things easier.\n\nAlso, although I am sure that if I saw his *real* hand writing, I would have been able to tell he had powers, that was news to me. \n\nGetting a better picture of him was *why* I asked to see his notes anyway.\n\nI tell him as much. He pouts. Whatever kid. \n\nHe asks me how I think I got here. It *was* strange, it isn't like a 12 year old can knock out a 20 something year old woman.\n\nI make up a thing about pledging loyalty to him. Make up a bit about having secretly always hating humanity. And I am not proud of it, but I also subtlety imply I think he is attractive.\n\nI am still above a lava pit afterall.\n\nNot surprisingly, that actually seems to satiate him. Let's out a creepy laugh. He said he could use a side kick. (Did he mean henchmen?)\n\nHe's like 12. He is not *nearly* as smart as h thinks he is.\n\nHis powers are combat based. Yet he is learning how to hack. \n\nAn ability to knock people out would be pretty frightening if he snuck up on someone. \n\nBut for some reason he chose to wear what is probably his only suit, and put on a cape that draws way too much attention to itself.\n\nWhen I get out of hear, I'm calling the cops. I hate the idea of sending any of my kids to juvy, but this kid is 12 and thinks he is in a comic book.\n\nHe climbs up a rope, I black out.\n\nI'm in handcuffs, I'm still in the same warehouse as before. He hands me a box.\n\nI ask him what his evil plan is. He cocks his head. He says he is on the side of good. \n\nI tell him that earlier in his speech he was talking about taking down the government, wasn't he suppose to be evil.\n\nHe tells me that I misunderstand his lille code of honor thing. \n\nI knew he read comics because he used to talk to some of the kids in class about this one villain, I think his name was the punisher.\n\nI guess I figured he was a villian.\n\nDoesn't mean this 12 yearold wasn't still out of his mind.\n\nI open the box. It is a gun.\n\nThis kid was 12.\n\nHe says I am going to have to pass his loyalty test by shooting someone. I have no intention of doing that, bur I'm not sure how his powers work.\n\nIf I'm not careful he could knock me out again.\n\nI look around the warehouse.\n\nI shouldn't be surprised to notice corpses around the room.\n\nTerry was a 12 year old \n\nThis kid, this supervillian who thinks he's some sort of anti-hero, was a 12 year old.\n\nThis kid, who wasn't nearly as smart or self-aware as he thinks he is, was 12.\n\nThis kid was 12, and wearing a homemade light up cape, and he might kill me.\n\nOne day you are a teacher, the next day you are a hostage to a 12 year old kid.",
"*Normal kid. Just another normal kid.* The thought gave me a small sense of ease as I looked at the paper again. The words took that ease from me again as I read further and further. *Is this normal though?*\n\nA light tap on the door pulled me from my reading. \"Mr. Peters? You wanted to see me?\"\n\n\"Uh, yes. Jessica, please come in,\" I said, waving to the closest desk. *Just a normal kid.* Jessica Rivers was just another run of the mill student. She was pushing a B in my creative writing class, and my colleagues all said the same. She had never gotten a detention, although she had been warned about tardiness a few times. All in all, nothing special about her. Her face was filled with confusion as she eased herself into the chair.\n\n\"I wanted to talk to you about your latest writing assignment,\" I said, holding it for her to see. I could see her visibly tense up, and I quickly added, \"There was nothing wrong with it. I just wanted to see where you got the inspiration for some of the things you wrote.\"\n\n\"Oh, o-okay,\" Jessica stammered. She leaned back in her seat, closing her eyes in thought. \"So, you told us to write a short story about something that would be scary if it happened in real life.\"\n\nI nodded. It was an exercise I gave out every year, and it helped me to weed out the troubled kids. *This, though...this is far more than just troubling.* I looked down again at the paper again. \"Let's start at the beginning then. You wrote, **'A calming breeze rolled over the hills, gently rustling the tall grass as it snaked end over end to the farm.'** Now, that doesn't seem very scary. A lot of your classmates started their tales right in the middle of the event.\"\n\nThe student shrugged her shoulders halfheartedly. \"I thought that was a lame idea. Don't get me wrong, *in media res* can be useful, but for this, I wanted to go for a slow development with more exposition.\"\n\nI pursed my lips in thought and chuckled. \"Well, it's good to know that you have been paying attention to some of the things I talked about. In this situation, I have to agree with you. Let's keep going. **'The breeze reached the rustic home and pushed past the front door, which was slightly ajar. It billowed through the living room, past the coats and hats on the rack, indicators of an early fall season.'** I have to say, I like the details you put in here and there. It brings a sense of realism to the story that other papers didn't.\"\n\nJessica smiled slightly, not showing her teeth. \"Thank you very much.\"\n\n\"Let's push on ahead to the main part of the story. **'The breeze crept down the hall, past the sink in the bathroom, overflowing with water. The young boy who had been brushing his teeth now lay in a heap, blood pooling around his rapidly cooling body. The wind went further down, curling into the bedroom. The walls, once a lively green, were now flecked with red spots. The couple on the bed were sprawled out, the man's mangled body on top of his wife's in a final attempt to protect her. It had been in vain, as both their heads were caved in. The wind pooled around the only indication of life in the house, the girl holding the hammer loosely in her blood-soaked hand.'**\"\n\nI leaned back in my seat, mimicking Jessica's motion from earlier. I exhaled deeply. \"That is a lot to take in. One girl killing a whole family?\"\n\n\"Not just any family,\" Jessica interjected. \"Her ow family. I took some inspiration from the Lizzie Borden story. Forty whacks, you know?\"\n\n\"Yes, I'm aware of that story,\" I replied, a slight waver in my voice. *Is she just another normal kid?* \"Your descriptions in this part were very...vivid, especially for the killer.\"\n\n\"Well, I based her off of me, so it was easy to pull that part off. I based a lot of it on my family to make it a little easier.\"\n\n\"...Right.\" *Okay, THAT is not normal.* \"Now for the ending. **'The screams that still rang in the girl's ears began to be replaced by the sounds of approaching sirens. Her chest tightened. Her hand instinctively clenched tighter on the handle of the hammer. She began to slowly walk down the hall, causing the breeze to breaking into roiling nothingness.'** This is quite a hard stop for a story. Did you mean to put it this way?\"\n\nJessica nodded. \"I wanted to leave things open. I like revisiting things I write and adding on to them when I have the chance.\"\n\nI nodded, feeling more apprehensive. \"And...have you revisited this one?\"\n\n\"Let's say I am still in the process of figuring out how I want to go forward with it.\"\n\nA shiver ran down my spine. Something about what she had said didn't sit well with me, but I let it pass. \"Back to your ending, it seems like the only emotion comes from the fear of the cops coming. Is that how you meant to write it?\"\n\n\"Yes, I wanted to make it clear that this was the point where the scary part really sets in.\"\n\n\"So, let me get this straight. You wrote about this girl killing every part of her family, and you didn't think *that* was the scary part?\"\n\nJessica looked up at me, her eyes her eyes gleaming. \"No, Mr. Peters. The scary part for *me* was getting caught.\"\n\n/u/TemporaryPatch New Years Resolution Tracker: 31/100. Visit /r/TemporaryPatchWrites for more responses and stories!",
"Eyes may have long been held as the windows to the soul, but I always preferred handwriting. The eagerness in their scrawl, or hunched together with the barest space between words, or how hard they pressed against the page: those sorts of clues gave me a kind of insight.\n\nI really should’ve chosen a different career. All my life, the same criticisms swirled around me.\n\n“Can’t you tell?”\n\nPeople smiled when they were sad, and laughed when they were annoyed, and pushed others away when they were lonely. People were too complicated for me, in every way. I couldn’t grasp the difference between their actions and their intentions. So, I should have chosen an office job, where I could have just been the awkward co-worker.\n\nBut, I couldn’t forget my precious moments.\n\n“Ah, thanks! I get it now… I think. You’re a really good teacher.”\n\nWhen I remembered those times, I realised a good teacher didn’t need to understand everything; understanding the problem was good enough. Still, it took me a while to compensate. Some children needed things explained in a succinct way. Others needed to go over each step, a little at a time. I found quickly that their handwriting helped me to pinpoint the problem. Something so personal, it reflected their attitude to the work quite well, for the most part.\n\nOf course, I didn’t judge them, or hold their handwriting against them, or anything like that. It became a good starting point, though; a small insight, from which I could begin to understand them as my student.\n\nI wouldn’t say I was a particularly good teacher. My job was to help the students understand the work, so I was just doing my job. I didn’t take in class after class of unruly teens on the verge of failing and turn them into honour students. But, year after year, I helped the kids in my care to do a little better. From time to time, I even managed to help someone struggling turn things around. That was rare, though, and the extent of my ‘being a good teacher’.\n\nFor me, that was enough. I didn’t think so highly of myself. If I could continue being helpful to my students, then that was a satisfying life.\n\nHowever, teaching never went without a hiccup.\n\nA student transferred in half-way through the year to one of my classes. I knew about her before the first lesson, of course. The file on her included the relevant notes and I’d been made aware of what I needed to know to teach her. Still, actually seeing her affected me.\n\nQuiet would have been the wrong word, distant perhaps better, her gaze perpetually downwards even as I wrote on the whiteboard. She sat as far away from the neighbouring desk as she could. Her hair fell across her face like a curtain, though not quite long enough to reach her mouth, where her lips were pressed together in an almost frown.\n\nI went through the lesson as I would any other, while obviously avoiding asking her any questions. The other students had glanced at her here and there, but otherwise left her alone, quickly forgetting all about her once I started teaching. Some of them took another look at her on their way out, trying not to be rude, but I was sure she noticed them all the same, shrinking behind her desk.\n\nWhen everyone else had left, she started packing up. Her movements were slow and gentle and yet jerky, her muscles seizing at odd times. I waited patiently for her to finish putting away the little, electronic word processor she had used before walking over. She stilled, or, rather, she seized up at my approach.\n\n“Hannah?” I asked.\n\nShe jumped, even knowing I’d come over, surely knowing I intended to speak to her. “Y-yes, miss?”\n\nIt wasn’t that I had no empathy, I had just always struggled to actually understand, and I didn’t want to presume I knew. When I tried to think about how I would feel in their situation, I always came out with the wrong answer. Given everything that had happened to her, I couldn’t possibly have hoped to empathise in good faith, and I wouldn’t dare pity someone trying their best.\n\nCarefully lowering myself, I rested a piece of paper and a pen on the table. “I know this is a strange request, but I would like it if you could write down a sentence for me—anything you want. If your hand’s sore right now, then another time is fine. If you don’t want to, then that’s fine, too. It’s not something compulsory.”\n\nWith a practised motion, I stood back up. Her gaze flickered between her lap and the paper.\n\n“I like to see my students’ handwriting, so I can try to understand them a little better. Does that sound silly? I’m sure it does, something like a superstition from Victorian times. But, I like to use it as a starting point, so I can help them as best as I can as their teacher.”\n\nHer apparent fear hadn’t subsided. In gentle motions, I turned around and put a little distance between us.\n\n“How about you take those home today and, if you feel like indulging me, you can return them next lesson? Otherwise, just leave them there.”\n\n“I, I’ll try, miss.”\n\nStilling, I found myself surprised. Only, she surprised me again when I heard the tap of a pen, making me slowly turn back around.\n\nHer grip on the pen looked terrible, childlike even, and uncomfortable. In shudders and jerks, the pen scratched across the paper. She kept crossing the lines, every letter different. Pressing so hard, she tore the paper when trying to cross a ‘t’. It was painful to watch in a way, but I could only imagine that it hurt far more for her, so I kept my emotions to myself.\n\nWhen she finished, she let out a long breath, which she’d been holding for the near minute it took her to write just one short sentence. The pen clattered on the table, making her flinch even though she’d dropped it.\n\n“I’m… finished, miss.”\n\nSlowly, I reached over and lifted up the paper, turning it around so I could read it. Just one short sentence, but it took me a few seconds to decipher.\n\n“W-what does it s-say… about me?”\n\nThe worst scrawl I’d ever seen, it had a look of madness to it, like some insane person had hastily carved the words into a wall with a rock. Every letter so sharp and pointed, it could have been confused for ancient runes. In a way, reading it made me feel sick, the sort of handwriting I expected to see on some crime show written in blood.\n\nAll in stark contrast to the words.\n\nI WILL TRY MY BEST.\n\nSmiling, I folded the piece of paper over. While I might not have known what to say to her before, I felt like I understood, just a little, what she needed from me now. “You might not feel it, but you’re very brave, Hannah. You’re going to do just fine.”"
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[removed] | [WP] "The time has come, Duchess Markle, execute Order 1776," Sec. Mattis rasps as the holo-link with HRH Meghan Markle cuts off... | 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/8kvn3s/-/%0A%0A)\n\n*This action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things.*",
"Hi there, this post has been removed.\n\nYour post includes too many details to be considered a prompt. It has become a story commission, which is not allowed. Prompts are meant to inspire users to write their own work, not write something for you. \n\n\n\n---\n\nPlease refer to the [sidebar](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/about/sidebar) before posting. If you have any questions or concerns, please feel free to send us a [modmail.](https://www.reddit.com/message/compose?to=%2Fr%2FWritingPrompts&subject=Removed%20post&message=https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/8kvn3s/-/%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,
1
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"1526851157",
"1526851377",
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[WP] After the evil lich lord died, his skeleton minions didn't. Now free and under their own control, the skeleton masses try to form their own society. | 20 | [
"**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 starts slowly, as most stories do.\n\nThey wandered aimlessly at first – their orders were to defend the Black Tower, but the Tower was gone. The Lost Bones circled the tower, bumping and clacking, forever on standby for the newest order.\n\nExcept for the Littlest One, who had been ordered to clean the halls.\n\nThe halls were gone, of course. But the Littlest One was clever, and thought a most wonderful thought:\n\n(*The hall is gone, but the pieces of the hall are left.*)\n\nAnd so the Littlest One ambled over to the wandering throng, and rapped on the nearest skull.\n\nAnd the crowd turned to the Littlest One, and waited.\n\nAnd the Littlest One pointed to the rubble, and went over to clean.\n\nAnd the crowd followed.\n\n___\n\nThere was not much of a plan to the Cleaning – the skeletons merely moved piles of basalt from one place to another – but it was a start.\n\nUntil the Littlest One lost a femur, and could no longer help.\n\n(*And the Bones thought back to their old master.*) \n\nAnd the Bones (no longer Lost) built a makeshift throne, and the Littlest One sat upon the throne, and thought it very, very silly.\n\n___\n\nEventually, the heroes would return to find a strange basalt town among the blasted lands. The Friendly Bones would clack their jaws and make strange gestures to each other, and go back to their work.\n\nThe Paladin recommended a good smiting, but the rest shushed him.\n\nThey went to the center of the Town of Bones and found a throne of basalt, and found the smallest skeleton anyone had met.\n\nAnd the Littlest Skeleton King waved, and gestured around.\n\n(*And smiled, in the way that only a thing of bones can smile.*)"
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1,
6
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"1526859619",
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[WP] Every person gains a scar when they tell a lie, everyone you've met is covered, including yourself. One day during basic training for the military you meet a man with no scars. | 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",
"\"Smooth,\" they called him. They would let him pass without looking him in the eye. They say he is so honest he brings out the new scars. He looks through you and you just want him to be proud. \n\n\"Daddy Smooth!\" the women in Bunk 15 call him. Handsome, hot, pure, new skin. No scars. He won't leave like their dead\\-beat\\-dads. He won't make them feel ugly. \n\nBut he knows something we don't. I know something no one will ever know. Smooth taught me the truth so many nights ago. You see, it's not the lies that make the scars. It is the guilt we feel when we lie. We are trying to be honest despite what we have tried to do.\n\nHe never felt burdened by the lies. \n\nThat night, as he pulls me into the woods and tells me no one will believe me, the first scar scabs and falls away."
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1,
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"1526867487",
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[removed] | [WP] Death can be delayed, you just lose memories of people you love, one person at a time, each time you are about to die till there are no more people remembered. You wake up to shaking earth and sirens blaring and you remember only one person now and they are holding a gun to your head asking W.. | 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/8l0u5q/-/%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,
2
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"1526909599",
"1526910509"
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[WP] You're one of the many synthetics that were captured by an alien gladiatorial arena where you fight to the death against other machines. You're one of the top contenders, being part of the arena for about 10 years now and todays match didn't seem any different. Except blood was spilled today. | 38 | [
"**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 marched for 134th time onto the sterilized circular pulpit that was our gladiatorial prison. I was the oldest, not because I arrived here first, but simply because I was the most well equipped to survive my new hosts.\n\n \nI was designated number 3609 on my assembly line, 9th generation of the 36 series. The 36 series was designed to be embedded with early colonists to perform tasks that our biological hosts were unable to handle. Superficially we looked similar to the hosts that surrounded us, but underneath our synthetic skins laid the un-beating heart of a machine’s CPU. I was embedded with nine other 36 units on a convoy to a planet only recently declared habitable and safe to colonize. It took nearly 4 months to clear the land to be habitable for the bio’s and I we lose two units due to come local wildlife. The 8 remaining units were used at our bio-hosts discretion. That often involved servile chores, dangerous scouting missions and on certain occasions law enforcement. At nearly six months after colonization I was the lone surviving 36 unit on the planet. I was given capsules that would activate my sleep protocol. The bio-hosts thought our model weak and requested a hardier synthetic unit than the 36 line to be ordered with the next colonial ship arrival.\n\n\nThat ship would never arrive. My new hosts slew our current bio-hosts by the hundreds, with technology far superior than any available to the colonists. I did not react, nor shed a tear for when awoken by my new bio-hosts. I was awoken and asked to explain my purpose, to which I explained what I was and which functions my previous bio-hosts took advantage of. I was told my new imperative was to fight other synthetic units for their entertainment and 134 arena matches later I still retain an unblemished exo-skin.\nMy new bio-hosts were ecstatic with my performance so far. Arena 135 would be different from the rest though. A new bio-unit had been found from another colony of my previous bio-hosts, from the 39 series. Three whole unit lines ahead of me, it was improbably that I would win my next bout. I was incapable of fear, and walked into the pulpit for the inevitable final time. The 39 line had a bio-skin similar to mine, again these colonists seem to not like looking at what we really were.\n\n\nThe 39 unit moved at a speed that I was incapable of. Slicing through flawless skin, which parted. Red liquid gushed from the wound as agony filled every corner of my being. Silence from the crowd as I screamed. The pain entered every part of my mind bar one. A memory. An unwanted child. A debt to be paid. A PharmaCorp representative. A series of experiments leading to this very moment. Release.\n",
"A red viscous liquid covered my hands. It seeped from the wound my crude shank had made as I punctured the other's stomach. I smelled the red liquid; the action returned a metallic zing to my sense of smell. I pinched the liquid between my thumb and forefinger and small red liquid bridges formed, stretched, and gave to gravity as I moved pinching fingers away from each other. \n\nBlood.\n\nThe Colosseum guards pulled me away from the pool. Once again, I caught a whiff of the metallic smell as the guards prodded and pushed me toward the doorway.\n\nConfusion reigned outside in the stands. *Why was the contender bleeding?* *How was it not vetted properly?*\n\nThe guards threw me back into my cell. The soft corded life strands wrapped me up and plugged into my synthetic body. I felt my depleted battery array’s fill. I would be given more than my share of sustenance. \n\nI stood propped up by the cell and cables holding me. I lulled into a dream state as my synapses cooled down from disuse. My mind ran wild with the Blood. The metallic smell came to me in my dream but as I stayed on the verge of euphoria from the life providing cables it was ripped from me. \n\nThe side of my head rang and vibrated as it was hit by a small club. Synapses came to life and in a split second my body was ready. Before me stood a young woman, The Mistress, the guards with her. \n\n\n\nI relaxed in relief as her blows came again and again. The club beat me to the ground. \n\nThe guards looked as though they should stop her. I was the best fighter she had. She didn’t let up until my spinal column was severed. \n\nJust before I closed my eyes. She bent down to me. \n\n“I told you, you weren’t supposed to kill him. His life mattered.”\n\nAnd I was nothing but a Syn.\n"
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20
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[removed] | [WP] The Fantastic Space Adventures of Ivan Jones!!! | 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 are meant to inspire users to write their own work, not write something for you or give you ideas. \n\n\n\n---\n\nPlease refer to the [sidebar](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/about/sidebar) before posting. If you have any questions or concerns, please feel free to send us a [modmail.](https://www.reddit.com/message/compose?to=%2Fr%2FWritingPrompts&subject=Removed%20post&message=https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/8l1egi/-/%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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"1526914458",
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[WP] Tell me about the first time you realized something was impossible. | 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",
"\"And now?\" The grey bearded man sneered. He pointed his cutlass at me, the sun gleamed off of it.\n\nMy eyes zipped between the other pirates, pulling sacks from the lower decks of the ship. They were taking everything from us. My crewmates had either been tossed off, or were brought aboard the invading ship. I could see the weapons, gems, and the occasional scroll poking out of the tops of the leather bags. Magical or not, they were stealing it all.\n\n\"Don't make me sully my blade.\" The captain twirled the blade, purposely cutting into the wisps of cloud that glazed over my ship. \n\nI looked over my shoulder, nothing but the ocean below me. About a mile below me. \"I don't understand,\" I said, my voice shaky.\n\n\"Fly!\" A few pirates listening in snickered. They peeled their gaze from my enchanted rifle, and began watching the show. \"Jump off your vessel and fly!\n\n\"Why?\" My eyes met his, locked. \"Are you afraid to get close to me?\" I called him out.\n\nThe lackies laughed, the sneer of the captain turned to a scowl. \"Boy, you'll jump or I swear to the Gods I'll gut you. Your organs will be feeding fish for the next few miles.\"\n\nMy heel was up against the railing of the ship, and my hands gripped it tight. \"I'd like to see you try.\" I stared straight through him, a captain unwilling to go abandon what was left of his crew. I'd go down with my ship. Maybe I would even best him, and be able to escape. I could be a legend. I could go home. I could--\n\n**Bang!**\n\nThe bearded grey vagabond had pulled pistol out with his free hand, shooting me in my chest. I stammered, nonsensical words escaping my lips. My hand patted my bloody lapel, all I could see was crimson pouring down my glove. I felt another force suddenly, the opposing captain had a hand gripped to my throat. I said something, coughed, and tasted blood.\n\n\"Fly.\" I felt a hard pushed, and then a howling wind and a drop in my stomach. \n\nI plummeted, adrenaline surging through my body as I regained some control of my senses. I could see two massive airships above me, a streak of red that slowed as I covered the pulsing wound in my flesh. I began to smell the ocean, the seasalt breeze. The endless ocean. The deep, dark, infinite. I closed my eyes, and prayed. To the Gods. To anyone listening. I wanted to fly. Out of spite of those who stole my life, and out of fear of death. I wanted to fly. \n\nSuddenly, I felt a tug upward on my very soul."
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1,
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"1526951599",
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[WP] Your otherwise ungifted brother reveals to you that he has a superpower. He can become invisible at will. After arguing for a few days, you convince him to rob a bank. | 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",
"“You can’t just go about making claims like ‘look at me, I can turn invisible’ without proof. You’re 20 for fuck’s sake, we’re not kids anymore, Tim” I grabbed the back of his shirt, turning him around.\n\n“So why the hell are you suggesting I join you robbing a Chase? I know that’s your life, but it ain’t mine,” Tim shrugged, shaking his head in disbelief at my suggestion.\n\n“To. Call. You. Out. On. Your. Bull. Shit.” I said, eyeing him down sternly, prodding him in the chest at every word. I continued, softer, “Look man… I know things haven’t been good for you lately what with getting kicked out of college and stuff…”\n\n“I thought we agreed not to talk about that,” he bristled, clenching his fists. I backed down, holding my hands up to placate him, “Yeah, alright. Whatever. You still know what I mean. Life ain’t been good I can see that, but it hasn’t been so bad you gotta be making stuff up. I don’t want this life for you either, kid. But if you’re dead serious about this invisibility thing, isn’t that the best place to prove it?”\n\nTim looked at the floor sideways. It had been a long 8 months living on my couch out of school and out of work. It was starting to show in the aimless eyes and sallow skin. We ate well from the money I got sticking up rural banks, but a lack of focus, a lack of hope… it does things to a man that good food doesn’t fix. It starts eating away inside and I could see that in baby bro.\n\nAfter a time, he shook his head. Refusing to meet my eyes, he quietly said, “Alright. Fine. I don’t have anything left to lose. Let’s do it.”\n\nHe pushed past me, huffing in annoyance. I made to follow him, but stopped short when I realized what he just said. “What… just like that? Just like that you’ll rob a bank?” I certainly wasn’t expecting him to say that. Could he… could he really?\n\nTim sounded defeated, “Look. Just take care of the logistics okay? I’ll do it. I’ll help you out on the next one. And I’ll show you.”\n\nThree weeks later, we’d found our mark.\n\nTim and I made our way to the bank in a stolen car. He was quiet most of the way. Kid’s first time, couldn’t blame him. I wasn’t sure what else I could say to calm the nerves. I was nervous too. For the first time, someone I knew and cared for could be in the line of fire.\n\n“Alright, I know our plan doesn’t rely on your ‘gift’ since you haven’t shown it to me yet, but if you wanna back out, this is the only chance you’re gonna get. After this, you’re a criminal just like me,” I said, looking at the road straight ahead. We were only 5 minutes away now. Tim stayed silent, but I could tell he was looking out the window. “I’ll take that as an ‘all-in’”, I said.\n\nAfter no other sounds but the humming of the V6 and the gravel crunching under us, we could see the old bank building 5 blocks away. I nodded, eyes on the prize. These times called for focus and I was trying to get in the zone: running through the plan again and again to make sure I was where I needed to be, when I needed to be. I hoped Tim was doing the same too. As I pulled up across the road form the bank, I looked over at him. His body was nervous, but his eyes held steel. Baby bro was ready.\n\n“Alright, you know what you have to do?” I asked once more.\n\n“Go in, line up quietly, pass them the note, give them the bag, get it back and get out,” he recited as I mouthed along.\n\n“Perfect. You have a gun we’ve practiced with if you need it, but you won’t. The note works, every time. No alarms, no fuss. Nearest cops are 10 minutes away. You pass them the note and the bag, they give you back the bag full of cash. You’ll be fine,” I said, reaching over to give him a hug, “I’ll be right here, ready for the getaway.”\n\nTim nodded while pulling down his trucker hat, took a deep breath, and stepped out of the car. I watched him cross the road and head on into the bank. It was now a waiting game for us both, but time passes real slow when you’re nervous. I wound the windows down to settle in and have a better view. Cars passed, people strolled by, birds called up above. The sun began to bear down a little. Its these moments when everything seems still, that everything seems most tense. \n\nThe bank alarm shattered that nervous serenity. I looked up, and the glass door of the bank shattered with the sound of gunshots. *Oh shit. Oh shit oh shit oh shit* I fired up the car and hoped to see Tim running out of there, money or not. But all that followed were the portly guards with guns aloft, looking around outside puzzled. Before I could ask myself what just happened, the car shook a little and there came a rustling sound around the open window.\n\n“Go!” Tim’s disembodied voice came in a harsh whisper, hovering somewhere above the passenger seat.\n\n“Holy shit!” I exclaimed under my breath, “Holy shit! Holy… you weren’t fucking kidding holy shit!” I said, staring at the empty space beside me.\n\n“Yes, now can we fucking go please?” he kept up the harsh whisper.\n\n“Oh, right yeah let’s go!” I said, firing up the car. My hands shook as we drove out of town, my chest heavy. Once we were clear and on the highway I relaxed a little. Blood came back to my fingers, breath to my body. Finally, I turned to Tim, who had now swum back into focused reality. \n\n“Are you… are you okay?” I asked nervously. I still wasn’t quite sure what to make of what I just saw.\n\n“Yeah I’m fine. Got the money too,” he said, pointing to the materializing duffel bag at his feet.\n\n“You know what this means, right?” I asked. My mind was flitting at speed, bashing against its confines at the possibilities and dangers.\n\n“Yup. Let’s just get home first, okay? We can think about more jobs later,” Tim said, far more relaxed than I was at the time.\n\n“Yeah. Lets,” I said, trying to focus on the road. We drove on a few more minutes in silence, my mind still processing what went down. All of a sudden we rounded a bend and I could start to make out flashing lights about a mile down the road.\n\n“Roadblock,” I muttered, shoulders slumping, \"They have the highway exits covered too, we're fucked.\"\n\n“Don’t worry,” Tim said, “They’re looking for me, remember?” he smiled, and vanished before my eyes."
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"1526957119",
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[deleted] | [WP] In a post-apocalyptic world, the only living things left is you and your houseplant. Lonely and desperate for companionship, you start to personify this simple houseplant. | 60 | [
"**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",
"Does everyone else think out loud when they are alone? Wait, I guess given the circumstances I should amend that. DID everyone else think out loud when they WERE alone? Shit. I guess it doesn’t matter now. Simple fact I do. Emily and I are all that is left. Still I guess I am alone. Emily isn’t much of a talker. She usually sits in the window and soaks the sunlight that manages to filter down through the heavy clouds. \n\n\n\nI talk to her all the time. She is certainly a good listener. I tell her about my day. Today I managed to get all the way over to the other side of the city and back again without being attacked by one of the escaped zoo animals. I told her it was that or I have to explain to St Peter at the pearly gates the embarrassing story of how I was killed by the lion pride here thousands of miles from where they were supposed to be. Emily laughed at my joke. She always does. Whether she is just being nice or really finds it funny I don’t mind. We get each other. It’s nice.\n\n\n\nI salvage several more bottles of water and canned goods to eat. The upstairs apartment we are using as a pantry is pretty full now. We have this apartment building secured. It was an easy feat thanks to the fact everyone else just vanished without a trace. Funny the end of civilization came without a single nuke being detonated. Emily saw it all happen as she was sitting in the window like always on that faithful day.\n\n\n\nI was sitting there watching Netflix one second and the next I heard a terrifying chorus of traffic accidents then silence ever since. Except for a few errant planes falling from the skies and a series of fires all over the city, it has been pretty uneventful for the past few years. Even when I realized many of the zoo animals had escaped somehow, I wasn’t scared. I knew I had to be strong. For Emily. I tried to shoot a Giraffe for food once—but the lions got it before I could. It was a funny story really. Maybe I’ll tell it later over dinner.\n\n\n\nOh Emily, she is so proud of me. She might not say it very much, but I can tell. I think watching the aftermath of everyone disappearing like they did traumatized her. No matter, she doesn’t need to speak if she doesn’t want to. I protect and provide. She comforts and keeps me company. We make a pretty good team. We will have enough food to get through the coming winter I think now. That is a load off our minds. \n\n\n\nSure we argue once in a while but we always make up. Emily is very forgiving. Recently I noticed her clothing was getting a little tight and made the mistake of mentioning it to her. Yeesh, I’ll never do that again. I made it up to her with a nice dinner and movie. I also bought her a new outfit in the bigger size. I even helped her into it. It’s nothing sexual you see. She just couldn’t do it very well on her own. Emily is pretty much a vegetable you see… well that is not quite accurate. She corrects me sometimes like that. Sorry dear. Aloe Vera is technically a succulent not a vegetable after all…",
"Diary Entry 1: Everyone is gone. Shaun, Austin, Faith, all gone. They just disappeared.\n\nDiary Entry 2: I have to get over myself. I have to live on. \n\nDiary Entry 3: I’m going into town to try to find some survivors. I hope to god I find someone.\n\nDiary Entry 4: No one was there.\n\nDiary Entry 5: No one is anywhere.\n\nDiary Entry 5: I’m alone.\n\nDiary Entry 6: I’m all alone.\n\nDiary Entry 7: help\n\nDiary Entry 8: please help me\n\n\n\n\nDiary Entry 365: It’s been one year. One year since the world ended, that is, for everyone except for me and Jerry. We’re great friends and there’s no one I would rather have with me during the apocalypse. Now to a normal person Jerry is just a sunflower growing in a pot, but he’s much more than that. \n\n\n\n\nDiary Entry 578: Today Jerry and I went to the park. We laughed and went on the swings for hours.\n\n\n\nDiary Entry 689: Jerry is looking a bit sick, I’m going to find some Advil at the store.\n\n\nDiary Entry 701: Jerry hasn’t gotten better yet. His face is even looking discolored.\n\n\nDiary Entry 726: Almost all of Jerry is discolored, even down to his feet. I hope he’ll pull through soon.\n\n\nDiary Entry 741: Jerry isn’t moving anymore, I will keep watching him just in case.\n\n\n\n\nDiary Entry 800: Jerry still hasn’t moved. I have only left his side to get food and water.\n\n\nDiary Entry 803. Jerry hasn’t moved. I fear the worst. How could this happen. Jerry said he’d never leave me.\n\nDiary Entry 805: I cant live without you Jerry.\n\nDiary Entry 806: Jerry please come back.\n\nDiary Entry 807: Jerry Jerry Jerry Jerry Jerry Jerry Jerry Jerry Jerry Jerry Jerry Jerry Jerry\n\nDiary Entry 808: goodbye"
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[removed] | [WP]The new EU Privacy Laws go into place and everyone abides by them. Just as Cthulhu planned. | 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 prompts referencing real world drama (including politics, recent tragedies, etc.) This includes prompts likely to attract such drama. \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/8l9vx3/-/%0A%0A)\n\n*This action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things.*"
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"1526994918",
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[WP] Every organism in the universe has a common ancestor. One very old and long forgotten. | 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",
"You do not know my name, my child\n\nAnd, I, too, can hardly recall\n\nI am the one who birthed you all\n\nI am your life, and you, my pride\n\nAs you look to the stars tonight.\n\n   \n\nThe source from which all life has sprung\n\nAnd spread across the universe\n\nA nameless entity, diverse\n\nOf whom your long lost tales have sung\n\nAnd passed from old through word to young.\n\n   \n\nThrough me all life has found its place\n\nConnected by a timeless bond\n\nA legacy that goes beyond\n\nYour home, intelligence, or race\n\nI am the first historic trace.\n\n   \n\nI ask not you remember me\n\nBut what I stood for while alive\n\nAs I saw my first children thrive\n\nAnd gave birth to my family\n\nOf whom I love all equally."
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[WP] You come home to find that your washing machine has devoured your wife. | 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",
"My God. She always joked about it but now its actually happened...\n\nJust last week, with her cute little air of discontent she joked that I might want to try doing the laundry for a change. She liked joking around about things like that. Along with the laundry she loved joking about how I should try holding down a steady job for once in my goddamned, useless life, that I should quit drinking, that we should try couple's therapy... She was so cute when she was trying to be funny.\n\nStill, sometimes she got on my nerves. Sometimes I would be drinking after losing another job and the bitch would bring up couple's therapy. On some days she even had the nerve to tell me that she hadn't had time to do the laundry because of work. Not only did her jokes fall flat, they made me mad\\-\\-She made me really, really mad.\n\nShe made me do it. I didn't want to do it. I love...loved her.\n\nWhen she went off to work after one of her cracks about my drinking I stopped to think about our relationship. I think better when I drink and so I poured myself a drink. Well, I had to do a lot of thinking and so I had to do a lot of drinking. My brain gets overheated and the alcohol helps cool it down. Like oil in a sports car. Anyways. after a bit I had a really bright idea.\n\nShe was always talking about the laundry and so I figured that I'd help her out. I'd fix the laundry machine so that the laundry would finally be finished. I went in with my tools and jimmied the wringer mechanism so that it would bypass the normal safety standards. That way the laundry would get done faster and she would have nothing left to joke about.\n\nI guess when that silly bitch went to do the laundry she got her little hand stuck in the machine and it finished her along with the laundry. What really makes me mad is she told me thanks for fixing her machine and now all my shirts are pink.\n\nBut enough about me; how are you Doc?",
"After a horrible day working a horrible job in the horrible sun, all I wanted to do was get home. Walking towards my car I can't help but feel like a failure as I scan over my '89 Ford Bronco with no air conditioning. On the drive home all I wanted to do was get these clothes off, get them in the washer and take a nap.\n\nI pulled into the garage, basically falling out of the car while reaching for my pocket as I fumbled around for my keys. As I opened the door, I could tell something was off. The air pungent with the smell of iron, maybe mold? The only thought I could process through the hundreds running through my mind being the safety of my wife.\n\nAs I walked up the staircase my heart started to race. My anxiety spiked as I finally reached the top of the stairs, with my biggest fear then being confirmed. There before me was my wife, devouring her own arm with a blank, glazed look.\n\n\"AMY WHY!?\" I exclaimed, terrified at the prospect of forever being in sweaty clothes. "
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[removed] | [WP] Another type of reality | 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/8lf152/-/%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] She wouldn’t admit it, but very few things gave her the comfort that curling up in a sweater did. Especially when the sweater wasn’t hers to begin with. | 16 | [
"**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",
" Sylvia Collins has always had a penchant for extreme excitement. She was always the first to jump, the first to climb, the first to strip and run through the streets at a party. \n \n Sylvia also had a dark secret. \n \n She killed for the first time when she was 14. It was ruled an accident, but she knew the truth. Her stepfather was actually a decent man, He took too much of her mother's time, though, and that just couldn't be forgiven. He had a tragic fall from the roof when his ladder \"fell\". She loved the feeling it gave her.\n \n Sylvia started her spree the summer after college. She started by killing her boyfriend's sister. No one ever suspected sweet little Sylvia. She went on to kill strangers and co workers and even an old professor of hers. One thing Sylvia always did was to take a souvenir. It was usually something small that wouldn't be noticed, like a key fob or an earring. \n \n On the night that she was finally caught, Sylvia was sitting in front of a fireplace, reading, with her knees tucked into the sweater of her latest victim's sweater. She saw it and had to have it. Nothing beats a lovely cashmere sweater that's two sizes too big and feels like butter. Especially when it's covered in the blood of your boyfriend. ",
"\\[PI\\] [https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/8lgawr/wp\\_she\\_wouldnt\\_admit\\_it\\_but\\_very\\_few\\_things\\_gave/](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/8lgawr/wp_she_wouldnt_admit_it_but_very_few_things_gave/)\n\nIndi knew she'd gone too far today. \n\nTwo hours shy of midnight, and she wasn't even anywhere near home. The sweater chase felt \\- different, somehow, than yesterday's. Whenever she decided enough was enough, the distinct scent of that one sweater she smelled somewhere hanging around the train station lured her in \\- intoxicated her, drove her wild. Only, it was nowhere in sight and the mere thought of losing it was \\- *no*. She'd find it. \n\nInstinctively, she knew when she approached the twelve hour mark \\- didn't even need to set an alarm for it \\- and the urge to keep at it could only be thwarted by the fact that she could not be out chasing sweaters after midnight. \n\nShe just couldn't. \n\nYet, here she was, still trailing the sub\\-levels of the dreary, dark platforms of Central in search for that sweater, the hands of the great clock ticking on by relentlessly. No one understood just how much she lived to get her hands on another sweater, sniff its own, unique texture, run her hands up and down its fabric \\- oh man, she could even smell the colours, and how they entwined so gorgeously with the soft fibres of \\- *fuck*. This one was made of \\- could she say it? \n\nFrantic now, Indi turned for another flight of stairs, running up \\- and halted mid\\-stride. \n\nGasping, she whipped her head around. There it was again, that *smell*. She closed her eyes, breathing in its strange sweetness that she now recognized for an elegance that only real *cashmere* could provide. A low, feral moan escaped her throat and she blew out heavily. \n\nIndi ran down the steps again, taking two at a time, nearly tripping over the last one until she reached the main hall. She anxiously looked around, adrenaline surging through her, now that her chase had almost come to an end. She could feel the finality of it, its taste bittersweet. \n\nThere, in the far right corner, near a ticket booth, stood a tall, dark figure, its back towards her. The smell was impossible to ignore, and Indi edged forward, overcome with an emotion she hadn't experienced before. Sure, every chase eventually culminated in a similar chain of events of her catching some scent, following it out until she could warm up to it, embrace it, be enveloped by it, only to have her attention waver, in search for another one.\n\nBut this \\- this was different. Not only had its cashmere scent driven her to tears, another smell worked its way through, penetrated her nostrils, burned its way to her brain. She reached out, closer now, until her fingertips grazed the sweater \\- and then it turned to face her. "
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[WP] One morning you’re an average guy, and the next you have the ability to fill any container you touch with clean, drinkable water. | 92 | [
"**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 do not know how long I have been down here. I do not know where here is. I only know I am alive by the hope that were I to die, I would move on to some place else.\n\nIn 2022, some time in the spring, I discovered I could fill any container I touch with clean, drinkable water. The water was completely from thin air, no components needed, no magical arm movements nor flick of a wand. I expended no calories in doing so, and there was no limit to the size of the container I could fill.\n\nI thought I understood the scope of the power. I flew out to a small African village. From what I had known at the time, they were impoverished and eternally thirsty. Eventually word got out about my humanitarian efforts.\n\nI don't remember much of how I got there, but I found myself in a cell with a military man. He had a suit adorned with many medals and honours. A mirror in the room suggested he was not alone. He explained to me the seriousness of my ability. He explained that the power to create something from nothing, and a lot of something at that, so violently breaks the fundamental laws of the universe that it would be a crime against humanity to ignore it. The ability to generate a vast something could be harnessed for incomprehensible power. He continued on, giving detail of the problems it would solve, the weapons it could create, and soon I was lead out through a room of saluting world leaders.\n\nOver and over I fill the container to which I am chained. I do not know where I am. I do not know how long I have been here. I know that I am alive by the hope that were I to die, I could finally be someplace else. I hope it is soon.\n",
"One day I discovered I had the ability to fill any container full of water. Despite my multiple thoeries as to how this could be, nothing seemed to make sense. I paced around the house imagining all of the humanitarian efforts to be made! My heart begun beating heavily in my chest and I decided I needed a breather to clear my mind. Eventually I decided that a short walk down my favorite hiking trail in the Rockies would be perfect. I set out in the mid afternoon my mind racing with possibilities of a thirst free world. I was so absorbed in thought that I didn't see the uprooted tree root on trail. I quickly began falling, luckily I managed to catch myself with my hands before my face impacted the dirt. Just as I breathed a sigh of relief I felt moisture on my hand. \n\nI looked down in horror as water began bubbling up from the ground.",
"Stretch: You can do *what?!*\nConnor: I just told you, I can fill any container with clean drinkable water, so this is my plan to use this newfound power:\n\n Step One: work on a visa to South Africa.\n Step Two: Locate the humanitarian efforts.\n Step Three: Humanity profits\n\nI mean, I’d probably get kidnapped by some dictator or something before long but at least I’d have done some good in the meantime?\n\nStretch: ...dude you realize Flint Michigan is like just a county over right?\n\nConner: Ah, get kidnapped by the FBI/CIA instead. Probably get experimented on.\n\nStretch: Or, y’know try to be subtle enough to *not* get caught?\n\nConner:... Yeah, I suppose I could give that a try."
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[WP] You have the power to speak anything into existence. You say it, and it happens. Over the years you've learned to communicate with other means then speech. Only problem is, you sleep talk. | 1,503 | [
"**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 want to exist.\"\n\nAt that moment, I existed. Where was I? What was I doing there? I didn't know anything, so I said\n\n\"I want to imagine something\"\n\nI heard an explosion after my thought. I imagined more and more. Particles from the explosion started forming shapes, but after me imagining other stuff, the shapes became circular. Side effects of my imagination? Whatever, it looks good I thought and imagined more and more. After some time, I imagined creatures that lived on the shapes. I created amazing creatures in different shapes, but the one I got really creative was the Earth. I created the creatures to be able to evolve over long times, and I've set a perfect balance that each creature helps each other in a way. My creations on Earth had a sleep cycle. I wondered what would happen, so I said.\n\n\"I want to sleep\"\n\nIn my dreams, I saw my creation series, dinosaurs ruin the perfect balance I worked too hard on. When I woke up, I wanted to inspect my creations on Earth, to balance the creatures again. What I saw was unbelievable. The dinosaurs went extinct because of a massive rock that crashed Earth. But why? I said \n\n\"I want to see why this happened\"\n\nThe time rewinded. I understood what happened. When I was sleeping, I also was talking. I said something along the lines of \"If I destroy the dinosaurs, would it fix the balance? It would\" and I appearently destroyed dinosaurs. Well, if I re add them now, I would ruin the balance, so adding them wouldnt make sense. Guess I'll also create stuff in other planets now. \n\nAfter decorating other shapes I call planets with other creatures, I decided to sleep. That was my worst mistake. In my sleep, I imagined a different evolution of Earth's monkeys who were able to think much better than my other creatures. When I woke up, I checked on Earth's future. Bald thinkable monkeys were ruining the balance. My attempts at saving the balance of Earth were unsuccessful. Even if I made up terms and explained stuff to a good leader inside the monkeys lots of times, monkeys still killed them. This is my last attempt. I'm going to sleep. If I don't see a perfectly balanced Earth the day I wake up, I'll abandon it and I'll start creating stuff on other planets. Maybe I'll doom earth, or just get rid of the bald monkeys. I'll decide it after my sleep. \n\n\nThis is my first WP, so excuse me for any formatting issues. ",
" Once upon a time I met a genie.\n\n“Ask for a wish, one which shall do you good.”\n\n“Ah! I’d like the power to have the world at my command.” I replied “Whatever I speak should happen. No matter how big the task.”\n\n“Granted” he said and went up in a puff.\n\nI happily returned home. Never had an evening been brighter, and the world sweeter. I went to bed a happy and content man. \n\nI woke up amidst a nightmare, only to find my house engulfed in flames. \n\nThat’s when I found out that I talk in my sleep. ",
"You know, there are a lot of downsides to having the power to speak things into existence. You might accidentally say something in a fight, and poof, suddenly your better half no longer exists, or he really is trying to kiss your ass \\(not that that’s every happened to me\\). See, when I was a kid, I did say some pretty mean stuff, and it actually happened to the person I said it to. \n\nAfter that, I kind of just stopped talking. Or I tried to. I pretended like I’d gone mute. I learned sign language, I carried a note pad around with me for times when I needed to write things out. But one thing I was never able to fix was the fact that I talk in my sleep. \n\nSo, yes, there are pink fluffy unicorns dancing on rainbows in my bedroom. My better half is torn between amusement, and annoyance. Last week I had a nightmare and a boogeyman came out from under the bed as we were both getting up for work – he was really an okay guy, more annoyed that he was now stuck living in the closet of two fully grown adults, instead of under the bed of some little kid that he might stand a chance of eating. \n\nHe has a thing for pizza, so I just buy him one every Tuesday, and I know he needs another when he puts the empty box in the recycle. \n\nUnicorns though… fluffy ones that look like those Scottish cows I saw a picture of once… only they’re horses and have horns and don’t actually exist… also, they’re dancing on rainbows. That’s a little more complicated. \n\nI sighed, loudly. \n\n“There is no such thing as Pink fluffy unicorns dancing on rainbows.” I hate talking. I hate having to erase from existence something I accidentally created – but I can’t start enough plague on the city of New York, the rainbow hamsters were bad enough – the city is still finding those things in the sewers. ",
"\"Silver tongue,\" Dustfinger hissed from his chair in the corner of the room \"What have you brought into this realm now?\"\n\nDarren sighed an rolled his eyes at the blond man wishing he hadn't read *Inkheart* on a whim 2 months ago, this man was annoying and had a penchant for making valuable things disappear. \n\nHis lack of response annoyed Dustfinger who asked his question again but only louder \"I said, what have you brought into this realm now?\"\n\nDarren pulled out his mobile and shot Dustfinger an annoyed text.\n>For the hundredth time I'm not a silver tongue, I just have this stupid power.\n\nDustfinger's phone buzzes, he reaches into his pocket to retrieve it and read the message. \"Not a silver tongue? Perhaps I should call you Golden tongue then since your powers are greater, and you still have yet to answer my question.\" \n\nDarren shook his head no and sent another message.\n>No, call me Darren. \n\n>Also, I have no clue what you're talking about I just woke up.\n\n\"Follow me,\" Dustfinger sighed after reading the messages. \n\nThe pair walked outside together, and to Darren's surprise, there was a giant anthropomorphized gummy standing in his front yard, nearly six feet tall. \nThe creature lumbered about, leaving a trail of sour sugar in its wake. \n\n>It's called a sour patch kid\nDarren texted Dustfinger\n\n\"Why is it here?\" He asked\n\n>I was really craving some sour patch kids bore my nap \n\n>*before\n\n\"Is it dangerous?\" Dustfinger asked, scanning for an escape route.\n\n>No, it's selicious\n\n>Delisious\n\n>Delious \n\n>Delicious \n\n\"A phone with unlimited free texting, perfect spell check, and all of my current contacts,\" Darren said aloud. This surprised Dustfinger as this was the first time he had ever hear the man speak. He watched intently as a phone slowly materialized from a glowing light in Darren's open palm. \n\n\"Was that really necessary?\" He asked\n\n>No, but I wanted to\n\n\"Well, what do we do with this so-called *Sour Patch Kid*?\"\n\n>I'm sure the dragon will eat it. \n\nDarren shrugged turning to return to the house only to trip and fall \n\n\"Fuck!\" the word exploded from Darren's mouth when he hit the ground. He quickly slapped a hand over his mouth, his eyes wide fearing what might appear. \n\n\"Over there!\" Dustfinger called, pointing to a large glowing blob materializing on the lawn\n\nDarren sighed in relief but was nonetheless confused to see a rather large seal with a pencil mustache and wearing a beret. \n\n****\n\nI'm sorry, but I just finished talking to my Quebecois friend so I decided to end this with a terrible French pun. \nAnyways, feedback is always appreciated. ",
"*God damnit* I think to myself. *It looks like I did it again*\n\nEver since I found that book, I've been known to have an effect on the world via speech. Some call it the First Language, others call it the Voice of God. Either way, it's the language of creation. I learned this the hard way when I first found the book and read through it. Afterwards, whatever I said, came into existence. For instance if I said right now, \"$1 Million in $20 bills,\" a million dollars in $20s would poof into existence in front of me. I like to think of it as the command lines you can pull up in video games and make items appear.\n\nEither way, it's been a unique gift, but the problem is, I have somniloquy or sleep talking. It's a genetic thing. Usually I can get away with it since I usually use a cpap machine to muffle my words and make what I'm saying unintelligible.\n\nBut every now and then, the masks slips and I get what happened this morning. I really should stop dreaming about them but every since a friend of mine told me about a table top game he played back in the day where a character had the language of the first, I can't keep that hilarious story out of my head.\n\nSo at least once a month I summon it.. The damned purple monkey dishwasher. It appears into existence and wreaks chaos wherever I create it. It's usually a pain in the ass to find because it has a mind of its own, free will and all that jazz. Some days it'll find its way into my basement, messing around with my heater, other days I'll find it across town, flinging poop at random cars.\n\nThe news media has been having a field day with it and it has turned into an urban legend of sorts. I guess I've created a modern version of Big Foot.\n\nAt least with all of this 24/7 connected mediums it's easy to find it.\n\n*It seems the purple monkey has appeared yet again what seems to be at a local coffee shop. It appeared at 6am this morning and police have been at a stand off with the purple monkey as it seems to have some hostages held at what appears to be... Poop*\n\nWell shit, here we go again.",
"You know I wasn't always this way.\n\nI used to be able to talk freely and do as I wished. One day, on my 13th birthday, I said I wanted a car. Everyone laughed it off but suddenly a car appeared from thin air and was sitting out in front of my house. This is an awesome power of course but I am not able to control it, so *anything* I said would become reality, even in normal conversation. Ever since that day, I've learned sign language and resorted to communication via text...at least until I discovered a loophole. The loophole I discovered was simple, if I talk in a language that wasn't my native language then nothing happened. Unfortunately, my parents noticed too and moved us to another country, and taught me the language that was spoken there. I was so ecstatic to speak I cried out \"I'm so excited! I feel like I'm on fire\" in the new language. Later that night, I went to sleep and had a nightmare, where the sun clashed with the earth.\nIn my sleep, I heard myself say \"Help! The sun is coming towards the earth\". In my last moments I realized I said that in my native language, and laid there as I felt the warmth of the sun intensify.",
"**Part One of Two**\n\nThe name is Tom, I’m a simple man with a not so simple power. To say that I’m gifted would be an understatement. I was born with magic to bring anything I want into existence, on the whim of my voice.\n\n\nGrowing up for me has been a struggle of making sure nobody knows my ability to manifest my words. My parents insisted on teaching me ASL from early on, and claiming me to be mute to everyone we’ve met. Though they did teach me spoken language, too.\n\n\nI’ve recently had troubles with a bit of sleep talking. I’d wake to scandalous women surrounding me, or the occasional guy. I’ve even woke to the sight of a crushed car in my room, or a shadowy figure that looms in the corners of my room. \n\n\n“Again? I really need to see a specialist if this shit happens again.” I thought to myself. I grabbed my phone and texted my mother.\n\n\n> Hey Mom I’ve had another incident can you call a specialist?\n\n\n> Okay, just get rid of what you made and I’ll set an appointment. I can’t have you keep making these things.\n\n\nI put my phone down and snapped my fingers to remove the objects I’ve created. This time I created a brunette and a few cardboard boxes. Odd, but I’ve conjured worse things.",
"(I am so sorry, Jordan Peterson. I love you man, really. As they say, we only roast the ones we love.) \n\n--\n\nWhen God spoke, he spoke the world into being. You have to think in a sophisticated way about this. \n\nThe way that order is created out of chaos is by speaking the truth. That is a complicated idea, and it's no joke! It is the deepest idea of the western tradition, and if it is true, it may be the greatest idea ever conceived. \n\nThat's why story and tradition and religion has all these archetypes. It's part of our grand unifying low resolution narrative, speaking to deep religious truths. It's Beauty and the Beast, the taming of the wild man by the woman forming the essential female heroic archetype. It's Pinocchio. It's rescuing your father from the belly of the whale. It's creating life by speaking it into being. It's confronting the shadow, and bravely fighting the dragon of myth. It's complicated!\n\nAnd what happens if you don't speak the truth? Well, the world gets dimmer. And when the world gets dim, it can get very very dark. \n\nIt is not safe to speak! But would you rather speak boldly, or censor yourself, and then you are nothing but a serf, a slave to yourself. You don't get to avoid pain, you get to pick the poison you are going to take, and that is it. \n\nAnd if you don't do that, if you don't speak the truth, the people that will speak will be the tyrants and the despots. And the world they will speak into being will be one you do not like. That is how you get authoritarianism, that is how you get identity politics, that is how you get Nazis. \n\nThe witch in the swamp is real man! Roughly speaking. It may be more real then anything else. It's the old king in the broken castle. This is important.\n\nBe precise in your speak, and tell the truth! ",
"I wake up in the lead-lined box I’ve had to sleep in since it happened. Last night, I dreamt I was in a childrens party. My child’s party. I brush aside the balls from the ball pit, avoid slipping on the cake lying on the floor, and put my feet down. The dim room is lit as the strip light across the ceiling lights up, both drowning out the dim emergency exit sign and blasting my retinas. Rub eyes. Knock three times on door. While the slow actuators work their magic and open the chamber, I search around, finding a dressing gown, and the whiteboard I have to use for communication. My husband is on the other side of the door. “Good morning dear” he mutters, and pecks me on the cheek. “Good morning” I simply reply. And it shall be.\n\n‘It’ happened on the dot of midnight, 24th May 2018. In the past three years, the world had changed massively. Mostly thanks to me. Some changed had been simple. While testing out the next morning, I identified a few things. Physical objects I didn’t have a limit, or not one that had been found. Living beings, I could alter but not create or destroy. That was obviously the hardest bit.\n\n“Two large English breakfasts” the plates clatter down in front of us. “One glass of orange juice. One cup of english breakfast tea.” Sat around the small, round table, I scribbled on the whiteboard ‘Party again’. He hugs me close. “I know it’s hard. You have to look at the positives, what we have. You’re the woman who cured cancer. You solved world hunger” Pragmatic, as ever. It’s not like I tried hard with either of those. “A cure for cancer” provided two fat lab books, and a post it note- “Attn Gunther Schieder, Munich”. Finding him had taken an afternoon, and three months later his face was over every newspaper, every periodical. Time’s man of the year. Nobel prizes in Medicine and Chemistry, in the same year. He still doesn’t know where the books came from. World hunger was even easier, one morning, every village and every town had a new well- this one filled with rice. Deconstructing them proved pointless, and after the World Health Organisation deemed the rice edible, and done. I’d swap it all back in an instant\n\nMy day was comprised of mostly watching television with Grant, as the ethics panel discussed. After the world food issue, I decided I needed one. Top secret, naturally. I’d be mobbed if these powers got out. The food and cancer cures within a week were bad enough. Each government could suggest one issue per month. Five independent ethics experts discussed, and I got a list every Friday, usually comprising three or four items. Today was tuesday, so I had another few days. I was supposed not to say a word saturday to Thursday, but what were they going to do? Fire me? Having meals provided, and the occasional DVD- assuming I was implicit with wording, was never going to cause harm. Sometimes it could even be funny- April fools I always greeted Grant with “Good morning, honey”- as I had three years ago. Cleaning the carpet while he showered was always worth it.\n\nLeaving the house had to be a well-planned affair. I didn’t do shopping any more- why? But sometimes just sitting in the sun in a park is a reward of its own. I tried to go out of school holidays, for obvious reasons. A walk in the countryside always perked me up, too. Pointing at the trees- ‘Identifying’ them. I wonder how many invasive species I’d caused. Same with birds. And bugs.\n\nIt had been a shame I couldn’t move house. “Too obvious” the ethics committee had said. I could see their point. Sure, we could no longer have guests, but the hardest part was the lead lined room. I just wanted to be away from that. Stop the nightmares of Rich’s party. It had been his birthday today, three years ago. We’d had a beautiful party, and the weather was fantastic, it was such a warm day. I should’ve changed the bedclothes, opened a window, whatever. But it was too busy, as so many two year olds make you. I remember nothing of that night. But at some point, I must have muttered “Fire”\n\n "
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[WP] Aliens have infiltrated earth, but mostly to make a documentary on the wildlife there. They get most of it wrong. | 46 | [
"**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",
"Kinlidalh Ippaakääj has worked tirelessly for 397 cycles to ensure that the sentients of the Galactic Union get the latest, most accurate information about xenobiological matters of interest! His expose on the breeding habits of the orefirogifr species has won him at least four thousand (give or take 3997) awards, a majority of which were given to him by other sentient beings! Now the galaxy’s most reputable naturalist brings you a report from the Formerly Forbidden Planet!\n\n*As you know, I am an entirely reputable and licensed naturalist, and I did not steal this identity from a sentient that I murdered by hitting him over the head with a wrench after escaping from prison on charges of fraud, forgery, and mass murder. As such, I am incredibly skilled in matters of infiltration, and not for any criminal past I may or may not be hiding. Thus, when approaching the Formerly Forbidden Planet, I disguised myself as a species known as penguins. They are noted for their classy outfits and great love of the arts.*\n\n*Using my training that I definitely learned from a reputable university, I determined that Earth consists of a single continent noted for its ice and heavy snowfall. After seamlessly infiltrating the penguin collective, I learned that there were four species that inhabited the planet. One of them was the penguin species. They had a long and storied history, involving six blood wars, eighteen thousand blood feuds, and nine blood operas. They have taught me their gentle ways, including their knowledge of nuclear physics, dark matter, and proper training of alto singers.*\n\n*The second species is the mighty krill! These walk on fourteen legs and are fearsome, bloodthirsty predators, making all individuals on that planet cower before their bloodthirsty might! They are reviled for their brutal gladiator fights, their brutal fighting tactics, and their brutalist architecture. I, of course, being a sentient of peace and not an intergalactic fugitive utterly disapprove of such matters! I abhor violence in all its forms!*\n\n*Though the krill pose a massive security risk to the good sentients of the forbidden sector, they are mostly held in check by the species known as the elder gods. These elder are keepers of ancient secrets and magic unfathomable to most of us. They know how to manipulate the forces of the universe as if they were merely wet clay! AND WE, MeREly pAWNS in THeIR WRETCH’d gAMEs!!!!*\n\n[Editor’s note: Ippaakääj appears to go on for some time in incomprehensible gibberish, not known to any tongue. It has driven seven of our editorial staff mad, so we will not reproduce it to ensure the maximum health and safety of your souls.]\n\n*Other than the elder gods* [more incomprehensible gibberish, this time driving only two of our editorial staff mad, which was no consolation to our insurance company, let me tell you that much] *the only other species of note are those savage beings known as the humans. Human incursions brought a reign of terror to the galaxy many thousands of cycles ago until such a time as they could be contained on a singular planet, which they call Earth.*\n\n*While I was not able to gain access to human lands, I assure that they are well contained on this curious and sometimes DERANGED PLANET, a planet infested by things BeYOnD oUR cOMPRehenSIOn!!!!* [four pages of incomprehensible gibberish expunged; miraculously no one was driven mad by it) *Our generous hosts were able to give us access to entirely accurate documentaries about recent human history. These documentaries, locally known as Game of Thrones, indicate that the humans are confined to a region that they call Westeros. They appear to only have a medieval level of technology, despite some success in creating powerful explosives, resurrecting the dead, and calling down demons of fire to serve them. They are currently engaged in a civil war while an invasion of human undead waits on the northern border.*\n\n*Yes, friends, I have braved many horrible dangers in my quest to the Formerly Forbidden Planet, and any rumors to the contrary are just horrible lies! Some slanderous and jealous individuals may allege that I merely spent time getting drunk in a local bar and listening to the inaccurate rantings of a psychotic penguin refugee! But how could you believe such a thing of me, the most reputable and totally honest naturalist in the galaxy?*\n\nWell, sentients, there you have it! The most reputable and totally honest in the galaxy has gone on his most dangerous assignment yet and has brought back a wonderful report at significant cost to his life and sanity! If anyone wishes to nominate him for political office, say, for the position of consul of the galaxy, you’d be handsomely rewarded!\n\n[Editor’s note: The preceding report has been reproduced in its entirely except where iterated to show the galaxy the consequences of relying on suspicious naturalists instead of government sanctioned reports. Ippaakääj has been proven during his recent impeachment trial to be nothing more than a criminal, lying monster of a con artist. More accurate naturalists have reported that Earth is a totally barren wasteland occupied by no sentient beings in any way whatsoever. It is totally beneath our time and notice. Furthermore, the concept of the ancient aggressors known as humans has been thoroughly debunked by an independent panel of scholars known, succinctly, as the Independent Panel of Scholars.\n\nAs the leader of the Independent Panel of Scholars, I have to say that Ippaakääj’s criminal past makes it impossible for us to believe a single word he says. Yes, he has professed to his vile lies, but his new claim that humans have infiltrated the government on every single level is completely ludicrous. Yes, the Independent Panel of Scholars is entirely made up of a species that *resembles* these humans, but we are obviously not humans, for if we were, then we would have killed you, and we have not done that yet. Instead, we have merely gained control of your system of government at all levels. This was done totally for the good of the various species of the galaxy, and not for humans.\n\nIf we were humans, we would be lying. But since we’re not, we can’t be. Right?]",
"Not all animals have Blek or are covered in Fluun like our beloved pet Koons. No, some animals have thread like strands growing from their skin known as fur. In today's episode of ''Weird, wild and far far away'' we are visiting the most charming blue little planet of everyone's favorite vacation galaxy. You guessed it, the Secaor Galaxy. Now Aqua III is hilariously and perhaps insultingly named ''Dirt'' by the locals, the hoomans. While about 70% of Aqua III's surface is water-covered. They do not seem to like their planet or water. \n\nBeing the third planet from their sun it is one of only three planets in their solar system that harbors life. Most of which is found in the large bodies of water. Therefore first on our list of weird species we have one of Aqua III's most common and highly intelligent life form known as a ''Cow''. You may have heard of them already, a popular niche souvenir to bring back by those who can afford to travel so far into the Secaor Galaxy. Rumor has it everyone's high school heartthrob Bechalor owns a cow. Here you see a brown and white fur covered specimen, standing at only 5,2 feet tall it is on the smaller side for a female cow weighing just around 1000 lbs. Just look at it. With such grace you can now see that it without so much as flinching, calmly excretes it's pies that the surrounding flies gleefully indulge in. Very nutritious and delicious too. Ah and there it is, the occasional and so very pleasant ''Moo'' sound reminding us of our summer rain.\n\nHow delightful, I for one surely am envious of Bechalor if the rumors hold true. Cows can be found in a whole array of colors, brown, black, grey and even blue. And now diving deep into the ocean of this planet called ''Dirt'', we can see the much more impressive male cow. At 90 feet this specimen weighs just around 170 tonnes. Long and slender with maturity having lost it's legs for mating purposes, the male is much more beautiful to behold. He rises to get to the surface of the water to breathe from his blowhole located at the top of his head. We can hear him now, calling for females who are looking for him in the depths. Soon we will see intricate courtship dances among the females to determine who has the right to mate with this marvelous blueish-grey male. But before we do so we are going to learn something about one of Aqua III's lesser intelligent animals, the hooman. Join us in this nest built of wood and stone called a living room after the break...\n\n\n\n"
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[WP] Your phone's always been a few minutes fast. You've never been able to fix it, so you just ignored it until the day you were hanging out with your friend and received this text from their number: 'Omg pls tell me your still alive' | 2,681 | [
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"\nAs Benjamin sat on a bean bag chair, he looked at his friend John. They had been best friends since middle school, and they were hanging out. Suddenly, a notification pops up on Ben’s phone. “Huh, someone must be texting me.” Ben got this message:\n“Omg pls tell me your still alive”\nBen also noticed that it was from his friend, John. “Hey, John… Did you just send me a text?” he questioned. “No… I didn’t. What does it say?” “Something about you hoping that I’m still alive.”\nSuddenly, a faint whistling sound is heard. It’s followed by…\nAn explosion.\nThe ground that John and Ben stood on was being bombed at this very moment. Ben took shelter in the bedroom, hid under his bed, and answered his phone.\n“Yeah, I’m still alive”\n“Oh shitfuck are you getting bombed too”\n“Wait… Too?”\n“Oh god I’m standing over your motherfucking dead body right now and I don’t care if this causes a paradox so fuck it”\n“Wait John what the hell”\n“Run to the beanbag please just do it don’t question it”\n“Okay”\nWith this, Ben started bolting towards the beanbag. He stood there, anticipating. He received another message from John.\n“Get under it”\n“Get under what?”\n“The beanbag you dumbass”\nHiding under the beanbag, Ben started to get nervous. What if this would get him killed? There was no guarantee of survival. He ran out from under the beanbag.\nSuddenly, Ben started to feel a cold sensation.\nHe had just had a heart attack.\nJohn nearly had a heart attack when he saw Ben dead. He thought about the message Ben had received earlier. Odd.\nWith this, John decided to message Ben, hoping that he would still be alive and could heed his advice.\nBut Ben always died.\nThere is no way to stop what is destined.\n",
"I guess this all started when I got that new iPhone from the Apple store. It seems like they come out with a new one every year. Anyways that’s not important, what matters is that I had just picked up a new phone, transferred over my contacts, told everyone my new number, you know shit like that, stuff you do when you get a new phone. The phone seemed normal at first but that wasn’t the case.\n\nI had only had the phone for a few hours when Kyle first texted me.\n\n“Hey man you know what day it is?”\n\n“wym? It’s Friday.” \n\n“Friday the 13th.”\n\n“Oh man, you not gonna make me come over and watch a bunch of shitty horror movies again, are you?”\n\n“You know it man.”\n\n“Damn it man. I’ll head over in a few.”\n\nI hopped in the shower to wash of the days grime, emerging a few minutes later. After drying myself off I got in my car and drove over to Kyle’s place. \n\nI knocked on the door and a few seconds later Kyle was whipping open the door.\n\n“You got here fast man.” Kyle welcomed me in.\n\n“Not really, I took a shower before heading over.”\n\n“Quick-ass shower,” Kyle commented. I shrugged my shoulders and followed him indoors.\n\nKyle threw a bag of popcorn into the microwave as we passed through the kitchen. We both sat on the couch across from the TV and Kyle hit the play button on his remote prompting the TV to start our movie.\n\nThe movie started out by introducing us to the villain, some asylum escapee with a lust for murder and aptitude with knives. It was a totally cheesy, overplayed idea but it was exactly what I expected when I came over. After the initial backstory it quickly cut to the escapee’s first victims, a young couple who had just moved into a new neighborhood. The film showed the murderer breaking into their house before sundering the lovers flesh from bone. While the overall tone of the movie was extremely cheesy there was something strangely visceral and revolting about the detail portrayed in this butchering.\n\nI jumped as a beeping noise went off in the background. It was just the damned microwave. Kyle paused the video and walked off to grab the now-popped popcorn. I remained sitting on the couch still somewhat shook by the evisceration in the film.\n\n“Do you hear that dude?” Kyle was texting me again.\n\n“Hear what?”\n\n“IDK man sounds like something in the backyard.”\n\n“Fuck off dude,” I was pretty sure Kyle hadn’t heard anything and was just trying to spook me, in the spirit of our Friday the 13th traditions.\n\nA minute later Kyle was walking back into the living room, a bowl of popcorn in tow. I grabbed a handful of the kernels as Kyle sat down and resumed the movie.\n\nThe film was a pretty standard slasher-flick. It was real hokey falling into all the clichés of the genre. There was just something off-putting about the murder scenes in it, something strangely real and nauseating.\nAfter a bunch of popcorn and some sickening pictures of violence my stomach wasn’t feeling very good.\n\n“Pause for a sec dude, I gotta go take a dump.” I bumped Kyle on the shoulder before speaking to grab his attention.\n\n“Aight man,” Kyle paused the movie as I headed off to the bathroom. I had just entered the porcelain fortress when I got another text from Kyle. “I think there’s someone outside.”\n\n“Yeah right man” it seemed obvious to mean that Kyle was just yanking my chain again.\n\n“I’m serious man, get the fuck out here.”\n\nI paused for a few seconds deciding what to do. I figured I’d just head out to living room and call Kyle out on his bullshit. As I passed into the living room I started to say something when Kyle cut me off.\n\n“Shut up. Listen.” Kyle was never much of an actor and he sounded serious. I thought for a second, he might actually be serious. A minute of silence was enough to dissuade me from this belief.\n\n“Fuck you dude, I’m going to take a shit.” I could see Kyle was thinking of something to say but I turned my back before he could start. I marched into the bathroom and got to business.\n\nAs I reached for the toilet paper I heard the crash of breaking glass ring through the house. I bolted to my feet, running back to the living room as I pulled up my pants. I froze dead-still in the doorway. The window was shattered ushering in a blood-chilling breeze of frigid air. Standing before the couch was a masked figure, a glimmering knife held aloft in their right hand, the blood stained with sanguine red. \n\nKyle’s body was splayed out on the couch his eyes rolled back staring straight into my soul with a dead gaze. His throat was severed in two, his blood soaking into the couch and spilling onto the carpet. I felt the popcorn rise back into my throat with a rush of bile and vomit.\n\nAs I emptied the contents of my stomach I could see the masked figure had begun to walk towards me. I took flight running down the hall in absolute terror. It wasn’t until I had ducked into Kyle’s bedroom that I thought I should do something more. I whipped out my phone, my adrenaline filled fingers shaking all over the place as I entered the number.\n\n“9-1,” the operator began\n\n“I’m at 7-8-8-9 Maple Lane. There’s a guy with a knife. Jesus Christ, he killed Kyle,” I had just finished giving my jumbled explanation of the situation when I heard siren’s blaring in the distance.\n\n“Are you safe right now?” The operator had a smooth calming voice.\n\n“No Jesus Christ he’s gonna kill me,”\n\n“Try to find somewhere safe to hide, we will have officers on the scene in only a few minutes.” As the operator finished there sentence I heard the crash of a door being broken down. The sound startled me causing me to drop my phone as I scrambled further into Kyle’s Bedroom.\n\n“Police put your hands up!” The bark of the officer’s voice was strangely reassuring. A volley of gunshots rang out, leaving a painful ringing in my ears. The door to Kyle’s bedroom was whipped open, I reflexively raised my arm to protect my face but lowered it as soon as I saw the officer standing in the doorway.\n\n“Your going to be okay. He’s gone now, you’ll be safe.” The policeman reassured me as he helped me to my feet. He kept a reassuring hand on my shoulder as he guided me outside where I could that a whole unit of officers was on the scene, searching the house and the surrounding area.\n\nThe officer guided me over to a young woman who handed me a blanket and beckoned me to sit in the chair she had set up. I sat down still shivering despite the blanket draped over my shoulders.\n\nThe girl talked with a kind voice, “You’re safe now, it’s going to be alright. Now I want you to tell me exactly what happened.”\n",
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"\"Bro, why the fuck did you just spell 'YOU'RE' as 'YOUR'\" I said.\n\n\"Ok, thats the last fucking straw. I've had enough of your grammar nazi bullshit! The only reason I Hang out with you is because of \\*your\\* fucking adder all script!\" Bill threw back at me. He had the look of an animal \\-\\- his consciousness had bypassed its human faculty.\n\nAs I raised a finger and began to open my mouth I felt a shove.\n\nI fell off the bridge and onto the street below, the pavement nocking my awareness a few feet out of my body. With a rush of adrenaline I snapped back into my body. But it was too late. The bus's screeching breaks wouldn't save me now.\n\nAs the hulk of iron and terrified faces rushed towards my relatively frail body everything slowed down. Time seemed to stop for an instant. It was like that time back in high school when my step dad totaled my mom's car. I'd had plugged up sinuses that day and the whiplash had helped to lear them out. The weird thing was, like right now, everything had slowed down to a crawl. The nanoseconds floated by with the ticking of the grandfather clock. At least it was comfortable. That last accident had me experience the ejection of all of my sinus fluids onto the seat in front of me, one split second at a time.\n\nMy my estimate, I had another 30 seconds, my time, before I was a bug on an asphalt windshield.\n\nI spent five seconds thinking of how this must be like the guillotine. This must have been how Robespierre felt. Sending so many to the block before him. The rush that that half second of pride afforded him must've been dwarfed by the agony of hearing the blade release. I wonder how much time he had. To think.\n\nI spent ten seconds remembering my wasted youth. I wanted to be a drummer in the neighborhood band. Really, I just wanted to get with the chick on the keyboard. I wonder where she is now \\-\\- facebook is never good with these questions. After spending a few years in the basement struggling to \"bang on the drums all day\" I surrendered to college, my current predicament. Economics would be cool I guess, seems like a good subject. Hard to outsource to the impending iRobot revolution. And I trailed off.\n\nFifteen more seconds.",
"**Omg pls tell me your still alive**\n\nI looked at my phone and back up at my friend, Sam.\n\n\"What is this?\" I ask, showing Sam my phone. \"Some kind of prank?\"\n\nSam looks as confused as I feel, his lips moving slightly as he reads his own text.\n\n\"No, I didn't sent that. Are you sure it's from me?\"\n\n\"Well, it's your number,\" I snap back at him.\n\n\"And what's with the time. That's like hours from now.\"\n\n*Ah shit, not again* I think to myself. The phone is doing the weird glitching thing it sometimes does where the clock jumps forward several minutes.\n\n**Ding!** Another message arrives. **Holy shit dude. I think you might have been right about your phone seeing the future. I'm in the park!**\n\n*What the hell*\n\nThen the tremors start.\n\n\"Do you feel that?\" asks Sam with urgency.\n\n\"Yeah, earthquake perhaps. It's LA, we get them all the time,\" I say, not sure if I'm trying to reassure Sam, or reassure myself. Something weird was going on here, and the growing unease in my stomach is telling me it's not going to be good.\n\n\"Are you sure?\" Sam asks.\n\nThe relative quiet of the area is broken by the rumbling becoming audible, swiftly followed by a car alarm going off.\n\n\"Okay, we gotta go,\" I grab Sam by the sleeve and lead him towards the park.\n\n\"Hey, hang on, what's going on?\"\n\n\"I don't know, but something really REALLY bad is about to happen. Do what I say, but above all else, don't stop texting me.\"\n\n\"Okay,\" says Sam, quietly and full of fear.\n\nAnd as if on queue, the earthquake struck.",
"The movie theater was silent. Then, I felt a buzz in my right pocket. It was a message from Tyler, reading ‘Omg pls tell me your still alive’.\n\n“Hey, did you send me something?” I asked Tyler. He looked back at me like I was an idiot.\n\n“No. Duh. I’ve been here with you the whole time.” Tyler said. He turned back at the movie screen and ran a hand through his brown hair, which was pulled back into a quiff. \n\n“I got a message from you asking if I’m alive? Is this like a super weird prank or something?” I’m still facing Tyler, who is looking at the movie screen.\n\n“No, I didn’t send it. Stop it.” said Tyler, continuing to watch the movie without a smile. \n“Stop what? You’re clearly the one who sent the message.” I respond, slightly irritated.\n\n“Shut up. I know you’re messing with me. Just shut up and let me watch my movie!.” Tyler whispered forcefully. Tyler would’ve yelled if we were outside.\n\nTyler stared at the movie silently, his hands balled on the armrests.\n\n“Whatever,“ I whisper, indifferent to the situation. Somebody must have switched my contacts. I silence my phone and start watching the movie again.\n\n*\\*Perspective Switch :o\\** \n\n“Hey, I’m getting food” said Jack, tapping my shoulder.\n\nI didn’t respond. I was still pissed off about the prank he tried to pull with a fake message and decided to keep watching the movie.\n\n“Whatever.” he said. From the corner of my eye, I saw Jack shrug his shoulders before getting up and leaving. \n\nLet me tell you something: When I get angry, even over the smallest thing, I tend to hold a grudge for a while. Every action grates on me the wrong way, and I see the person through the worst lens possible.\n\nI was clenching my fists, just wanting Jack to walk out a little faster. I felt the unreasonable anger bubbling and try to take a deep breath. Slowly, I relax and get back to the movie. \nAfter what felt like 5 minutes, I felt a powerful rumble. Dust fell from the roof of the theater and the projector stopped playing. I heard something play on the speakers, instructions to evacuate. Before the people could get into a panic, I had already lept out of my seat and was sprinting to the snack area.\n\nIn the hallway was a large pile of rubble, forming a divider between the movie theaters and the entrance. I looked around and yelled ‘Jack’, to no response. I whipped out my phone and shakily sent a quick message: ‘Omg pls tell me your still alive’. I wiped the sweat of my forehead and sent it. Nothing.",
"Thursday\n\n*Shit. I'm going to be late to the meeting.* I check the time on my phone again. 10:22, and I'm still waiting at a red light. *Come on, change.* I shift in my seat and nervously tap my fingers on the steering wheel in a rapid staccato beat. A line of cars turn left in front of me. 10:23. Finally, it changes.\n\nI get into the parking lot at 10:29. *One minute to get up to the tenth floor.* I nearly knock somebody over trying to get into the elevator, and it's only as the doors are closing that I realize it's somebody I'm supposed to see at the meeting. *Why are they just standing there?*\n\nMy boss commends me for being early, as usual.\n\n\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\n\nFriday\n\nMy sister and I are in line at the concession stand. She tells me: \"Relax. We won't even miss the first preview\" I grit my teeth and hold up my phone, showing her that it's clearly showtime. She shrugs. \"Fine, you go pick seats. I'm getting popcorn.\"\n\nI pick a seat right in the middle of the theater. I turn my phone off as other moviegoers file in. My sister saunters in with a tub of popcorn and plops down next to me, content. When the previews start, I take the battery out, for good measure.\n\n\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\n\nSaturday\n\nI had already made plans with Cameron for the next day, so my phone and battery are still shoved in the bottom of my bag when we meet. \"Wow, this has to be the first time I've actually beat you here.\" They smile at me from our regular diner booth. We chat about the movie\\-\\-they've seen it twice already. We argue about the age of one of the actors, and I pull out my phone to prove I'm right.\n\nI'm digging around for the battery in my bag. Cameron tells me: \"I'll be right back.\"I click the battery back into my phone and turn back it on. I missed a few emails this morning, nothing important. I am confirming I was correct about the actor's age when Cameron texts me from the bathroom.\n\n*OMG, pls tell me yr still alive*\n\nI frown and furrow my eyebrows. I'm typing, *What are you talkin* when three men in masks burst through the front door and our waiter screams.",
"I heard my phone vibrate in my purse. I bent down and fished the thing out, still listening to Val’s rant about her new employee. Apparently, his approach to being a salesperson means getting a little too hands-on with the customers...in a pet store of all places. Val doesn’t know whether to reprimand or fire him. He does a decent job in every other possible situation. It could also become a diversity snafu since his “targets” are the male customers. From her descriptions, I personally think Val’s employee needs to be told that flirting does not have an appropriate hands-on approach and that would be the end of it. But Val is still Val. She’s a great friend but sometimes she can make a mountain out of a molehill.\n\nStill bent over I read the notification on my phone: a message from Val’s number that read, “OMG! Pls tell me you’re still alive!!!”\n\nWondering what could that possibly mean, I open my mouth to ask Val what’s going on.\n\nThat’s when I hear the woman at the table behind me scream. I glance over and see her husband, who had had his back to me, slumped over with blood coming out of a wound in his back.\n\nI recognize the wound from my time as an intern with the hospital. It was a gunshot wound. Had I not been bent over, the bullet would have hit me in the head instead of him.\n\nBut I don’t have time to consider that because more people started to scream...and more people started to slump over. The crowd of people seated on the diner’s patio and on the patio for the coffee shop next door pushed and shoved each other as they scrambled in all directions. Tables, including the one Val and I sat at, were knocked over in the panic. Some people raced into the diner while others raced out into the street. The windows of the diner shattered as more bullets silently rained down on these innocent people. I look for Val in the sea of frantic people, but I can’t see her. Still clutching my phone, I start to crawl towards the restaurant. Hopefully, being indoors will protect me.\n\nMy phone vibrates again. Another message from Val saying, “Oh God, you weren’t in the diner were you?”\n\nWithout even questioning it, I turn away from the diner and scramble against the current of people. People were still falling to the ground as bullets riddled their bodies. A woman clutching her baby fell to her knees, blood bursting out of her thigh. My nurse instincts kicked in, and I helped her to her feet.\n\nI saw an opening in the patio fence close to us that led to the other storefronts along the strip mall. I put myself between the mother with the baby and the street, guessing that the shooter was on one of the buildings on the opposite side of the street. I helped the woman run as fast as she could down the strip mall.\n\n“Why aren’t we going inside the diner?!?” she demanded. I couldn’t give her a reason. What was I supposed to say? That my phone told me not to be in the diner?\n\nThankfully, an old man raced out of the bookstore next to the diner towards us. It was the owner, Jerry. He had served as a medic in Korea. He told me to grab the baby out of the mother’s arms. He then picked her up and carried her into his store. I followed close behind. I reached the door when the coffee shop exploded into a ball of flames. The shockwave knocked me to my knees and broke the windows of the bookstore. I glanced over and saw that the flames consumed the far side of the diner. People were racing out of it, their clothes in flames. The baby in my arms screeched for her mother. I raced inside the bookstore to the far corner, away from the windows.\n\nA small group of people were huddled together. Jerry unlocked the cellar doors and ushered people inside. I handed the baby back to the mother when my phone vibrated again.\n\nAnother message from Val, “I’m glad you’re okay. The police say it’s safe now. They caught the psycho in Jerry’s bookstore.” My heart jumped to my throat as the sounds of the front door to the bookstore just opened and closed.",
"I open settings and go to clock. Still 14 minutes fast, damn it! \n\n\"Tom what is the exact time?\"\n\n\"10:04\"\n\nI try again to set the time properly. It immediately reverts to 1018. Well when I get home I will look into the returns policy. Suddenly I hear a beep and the phone buzzes, a message from Tom who is still sat next to me on this bus.\n\n\"Omg pls tell me your still alive\"\n\nIt only takes me one moment to know what to reply.\n\n\"You're*\"\n\nSend.",
"“The falls have a vertical drop of 165 feet,” the guide’s voice cackled out of the tour boat’s loudspeakers, “it has the largest flow rate of any waterfall in North America.”\n\nMax stood next to Jenny, wearing a plastic garbage bag with holes ripped for arms over his clothes. Jenny wore an actual rain jacket to fend off the misting waters at the base of the falls.\n\n“Stupid thing is always giving me problems,” Max said, banging his ancient phone on the handrail and struggling to take a picture. He looked like a hobo, trash\\-bag, holes in his chuck all\\-stars, jeans splotched with paint from god\\-knows\\-what endeavor.\n\n“The hydroelectric power\\-plants at the falls produce over 4 million kilowatts of electricity, shared by the US and Canada,” the loudspeaker’s continued.\n\nJenny chuckled, “I’ll just send you mine when we get home Maxxy.” She’d taken hundreds at this point, plus dozens of videos and panoramas on her newest model of the waterproof ePhone\\-Plus.\n\n“It’s not about the pictures,” Max had taken the battery cover off and was jiggling things around, “it’s the principle of the thing.” The screen flashed on, showing a picture of Max and Jenny smiling together in the background.\n\n“Just get a new phone,” Jenny poked Max affectionately in the ribs.\n\nMax glared at her from under fogged, duct\\-taped glasses, “it’s not broken yet, it’s still got some years left in it. I just need to figure out...” He trailed off, poking at the screen. “That’s weird.”\n\n“Four of the five Great Lakes drain into the Niagara River before emptying into Lake Ontario,” the tour guide informed them. The front railing beside Max and Jenny was crowded with tourists now, all snapping photos and recording video.\n\nMax held out his phone to Jenny, “did you send this or...”\n\n*OMG! Maxxy! Please tell me you’re still alive!*\n\nJenny looked unnerved, and shook her head no. “That’s another reason why I wish you’d get rid of that damn phone,” she said.\n\nMax’s phone was a real piece of work, sometimes it would deliver messages and alerts minutes or hours late, and other times it would set off alarms too early, and still other times strange things like this would happen.\n\nThey looked around the deck of the ship, the only two not looking up toward the falls. Nothing seemed wrong.\n\n“Let’s go up to the bridge and try and chat with the captain,” Jenny said, arranging her bedraggled hair into a neat ponytail, “see if anything’s strange.”\n\n“During the last Ice Age, starting about 1.7 million years ago, continental glaciers up to two miles thick covered the Niagara Frontier region,” the speakers rang out.\n\n“Sure.” Max said, absently tightening the straps on the mandatory life\\-jacket all the tourists had to wear. He looked around for the life rafts, and his eyes darted around the deck, pausing on rope\\-hooks, ladders, and other hazards.\n\nJenny grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the ladder up to the bridge.\n\nOn the bridge, Jenny started a flirty conversation with the skipper, asking about all the dials and gauges at the helm. Max stood off to the side sleeves wet outside his garbage bag, looking around the deck. He didn’t know when the message was from, it was fairly random, it might even have been from hours later. Still, he could feel sweat mixing with the misty waters of the falls.\n\nA sharp cracking sound split the air, followed by gasps from the people on deck. Everyone was looking upward now, pointing. Mutters turned to shouts turned to screams. Max looked up to see smoke rising from the falls and debris launched out into the air like some sort of fireworks show. There were splashes as fragments of turbine hammered the water around the tour boat. Then a deafening crash as a piece slammed into the crowded front observation deck of the ship, ripping it asunder.\n\nJenny let out a scream as she and Max clung desperately to the rail of the jarred and sinking ship, the front pummeled into non\\-existance. Max stared in wide\\-eyed horror at the wreckage of the place they had been standing not five minutes earlier. The captain shouted a flurry of codes and maydays into the radio as water rapidly flooded in.\n\nMax grabbed Jenny’s hand and they climbed out and swam awkwardly away from the wreckage.\n\n“Jenny, give me your phone\\-\\-” Jenny looked confused\\-\\- “right now!”\n\nShe handed it over and Max began typing: *OMG! Maxxy! Please tell me...*\n\n\\-\\-\\-\n\nedit: changed the ending."
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[WP] ...And that's when a mannequin fell out of the sky and smashed into the hood of my car. | 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",
"The body.\nI was sitting watching TV, some crappy foreign program with subtitles, when I heard a loud crashing noise from above. \nThen there was another loud crash, I was covered with debris as a body came through the ceiling and landed with a thud in front of me. \nI looked at the body in shock, it was the body of a man, he looked like he was in his early twenties, he was dressed in a tee shirt, shorts and sandals. He was covered with dust and debris.\nI quickly called the police, and very soon, I had two bored looking policemen standing on my doorstep. “Good afternoon Miss” said one of them, “you reported a body falling through your ceiling.”\nI lead them both into my ruined living room. They were shocked to see that there was indeed a dead man laid on my living room floor. \nOne called on his radio, for a senior officer, the Dr and SOCO. The other officer asked if he could look upstairs, I agreed, so he made his very careful way upstairs, I could hear him moving around and the floorboards in my bedroom creaking. \nHe came back down the stairs, and said, “there is a hole through your roof, loft space, bedroom ceiling and through to your living room.”\nI asked, “where did he come from, who is he, how did he break through my roof.?”\nBefore he could answer my questions, there was a knock at the front door, there stood more police and a man dressed in a smart suit. He very brusquely asked, “where the body then.?”\nOne of the police men led him into the living room and pointed out the body laid on the carpet. The man was the Dr, he knelt beside the body and touched its neck.\nHe recoiled, he said, “it’s freezing” he looked at me and said, “has he been in the freezer?” I said, “how the bloody hell should I know, I was watching TV when he came through the ceiling.”\nSeveral photos were taken of the body before it was bagged and removed to the mortuary for autopsy. They had trouble getting the body into the body bag as it was totally frozen.\nSOCA officers went over the house collecting evidence, they collected DNA traces from around the holes that the body had made through the roof, ceilings and floors of my house. \nThey checked the rest of the house, but found no more DNA from the body, which proved that he had indeed made the holes in my house and hadn’t been there before.\nThe police had called the fire brigade, so they could use their Ariel platform to check the roof and get photos. While they were taking photos, the fire brigade fixed a tarpaulin over the gaping hole in the roof. \nMeanwhile at the mortuary, the dust and dirt were washed from the body, to reveal a young man of Caribbean decent, virtually every bone in his body had been broken. \nCloser examination of his body showed that his body had been frozen to minus 40 degrees. A lot lower than a domestic freezer could go to. \nA check of the man’s pockets found two Jamaican Dollar coins, a key and a photograph of a middle-aged woman. \nThe police checked with Manchester airport and found that a non-stop flight from Kingston Jamaica had just arrived. \nThe plane was checked over and traces of the bodies DNA was found in and around the wheel well on the right-hand side of the plane. \nIt looked like the man had stowed away in the wheel well of the plane, was crushed by the wheels retracting, asphyxiated by the lack of oxygen at 40,000 feet, then his body frozen by the minus 40-degree temperature at that height. \nThen as the plane made its approach to Manchester airport, the wheels would have come down and the body would have fallen from approximately 2,500 feet, landing on the roof with the force of a bomb, crashing through the roof, bedroom ceiling and floor and ending up in the living room. \nThe picture in the man’s pocket was faxed to Kingston Jamaica, the police there took no time in identifying her and send back details of her son, Michael Fournier, fingerprints proved a perfect match. \nMichael Fournier’s body was flown back to Jamaica, courtesy of Air Jamaica, who also paid for the repairs to the damaged roof and interior of the house that Michael Fournier’s body had damaged. \n\n\n\n\n \n"
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"1527177978",
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[WP] You and your spouse were given a choice by death, one of you must die, and the other must live forever. Collectively, you decided you would be the one to live. | 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",
"Centuries later it is still raw\n\nMy choices feel much less secure\n\nTo linger on forever more\n\nAnd remember how she cried\n\nBefore she quickly died.\n\n\\-\n\nA coward I was on that day\n\nWhen moral obligations sway\n\nIt's black and white, no longer grey\n\nI wanted to be alive\n\nAt her expense survive.\n\n\\-\n\nDeath laughed at me and made it so\n\nShe cried as she was made to go\n\nAnd how was I supposed to know\n\nThat death would bring new life\n\nWhile I would live with strife.\n\n\\-\n\nr/ShittyStoryCreator :\\)"
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1,
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"1527179777",
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[removed] | [WP] It's a perfectly normal start to your day - just like any other - until you remember that you most definitely succeeded at killing yourself the previous night. | 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/8lu3qd/-/%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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"1527180201",
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[WP] You are a cyborg half-orc detective trying to solve the murder of a fairy magitechnician on a moon colony built to extract mana crystals. The deeper you go, the stranger the mystery gets. | 12 | [
"**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",
"Of all the cyborg half-orc detective agencies on the moon, she had to walk into mine. She was a knockout. Bright pink hair. Green eyes. Slim. Six inches tall. She began sobbing as soon as she sat down on my stapler. Said her girlfriend had been murdered two days ago and the police had been bought off. I brought her a thimble of coffee and she seemed to calm down. Her girl was a magitech jockey, working at Nuts N Lightning Bolts. Big firm. They supplied most of the moon.\n\nShe seemed to think that her lady had been killed to hide a secret. What secret? Its never that easy in this business.\n\nI fitted a cigar between my tusks and lit up, ignoring the high pitched coughs little miss wings was giving out. I told her my daily rate and she told me her name. Serenity. God damn fairies.\n\n\"Call me Grognar\" I said, \"and don't you worry yourself. I'm gonna find your ladies killer\".\n\n\n.....................\n\n\nGetting in to Nuts N Lightning Bolts was already proving tricky. They had weapon sensors over each doors, dwarf work, first class. I flexed my left arm, hearing the servos whine. That would definitely set those off. That and the huge hand cannon I kept strapped to my hip.\nI was about to get it over with, hands held in the air. If I was an elf, it'd probably be all apologies and a wave on through. Orcs got the shoot first, then again to make sure he can't answer questions treatment.\nAs I approached the door, I noticed a shimmer in the air to my left. A scrying spell? \nI spun towards it, just in time to see a half elf attempting a quick getaway.\n\nThis was getting interesting. I hurried after him, keeping enough distance that he eventually slowed down, confident that he'd lost me. Five minutes later he turned down an alleyway. Time for some orc diplomacy. \n\n\"Stop, stop ill tell you! Just don't hit me again!\"\n\nBingo.\n\n\"Talk knife ear\" I growled. I held him off the floor by his tailored suit. Very nice quality. Tommy Hilgiant perhaps.\n\n\"Look this thing is crazy. Fucking crazy alright. It goes to the top. You got it? Big names. The biggest\" he babbled.\n\n\"Who\", I snarled.\n\n\"Georgie. The Gnome Father\""
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1,
4
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"1527184998",
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[removed] | [WP] A wizard's magic dies with his bloodline. You are the last descendant of Merlin, trying desperately to fight a curse of horrid ugliness to keep the bloodline alive. This is your Tinder profile. | 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",
"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/8lzdcy/-/%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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"1527226459",
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[WP] Nuclear devastation has ravaged the world and brought about the apocalypse as we know it. Somehow, you seem to be the only one who has noticed. | 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",
"The technical term is A.T.N.D., or Advanced Traumatic Negligence Disorder. Or at least that's the term I made up to describe the indescribable. People walking about their homes, down the street, eyes wide open, hair beginning to fall out and skin beginning to blister and sore from the radiation, but just continuing about their daily lives as I watch from the basement of my home. The nukes detonated about ten miles away; there was very little damage to my slice of suburbia, but the flash was still blinding, like a second sunrise. Maybe they looked into it, and something fried in their brains. Sometimes, I would put on my gas mask and heavy coat to walk out into the fallout to try and interact with my neighbors, but they would walk around me without even seeing me. I don't know what they're eating, if anything at all, or if they're sleeping, but if there's one thing I can say, they don't even seem to realize that the world as I know it at least, has ended. They're trapped in their own little bubble, a little world unchanged from the life they used to know. I don't know whether I should envy them, or pity them, but I know that they won't last long, whereas I intend to live just a little while longer, at least."
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1,
1
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"1527255497",
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[WP] A medieval army invades the modern world | 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",
"When the \"army\" marched into California, almost everyone had laughed. Or thought that it was a really interesting, big LARP session. There were about a thousand men dressed in chain mail, with swords swaying at their hips. Several sat atop horses, which were the only really intimidating part about them. The one in front held out a trumpet, a loud and robust echo when they reach the edge of Los Angeles. \n\nIt didn't even take the whole police force to bring them down. \n\nIt barely even scraped headlines for a few days. However, right around the edges of Los Angeles, about two weeks later, an outbreak occurs. An outbreak of small pox. \n\nAnd new reporters give a minute to it on their show, about how we had cured that disease and obviously that meant that it was a new strain of something. But no. It was small pox. \n\nIt infected the some small children first. A couple of kids that went to a private, religious school, with moms that believed in healing crystals over vaccines. Then it moved to some hospital dwellers, one of the kids parents finally breaking and taking them there for help. \n\nWithin the hospital, it should have been easier to shut down. Those with autoimmune disorders were quarantined, and the cleanliness regime became even stricter. \n\nYet it somehow got into the maternity ward. That made and kept headlines. Sixty-two newborns dead from small pox. Almost an entire unit wiped clean, because herd immunity couldn't help the babies when all that was in their herd was other, too-young-to-vaccinate, babies. \n\nParents went home devastated and empty-handed. The nurseries in the houses were closed up, the cradles were returned or left in the room to collect dust. A cry swept the nation that this could not stand and that the injustice was too much. \n\nIt took less than a month for legislation to pass through to make it illegal for a child that was able to not receive vaccines. It took less than a year for it to go into affect. \n\nAnd the army? The ones sitting in jail or dead from some past disease? They may not have won the war they were after, but they would go into the history books for this. "
] | [
1,
18
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"1527257058",
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[WP] "No, for the last time, I am NOT using my teleportation powers to get you a damn cookie!" | 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",
"\"Please Father! It's all i've ever wanted in life!\" my son shouted at me, tears streaming down his eyes. \"James, i'm sorry. They'll find us if I use my powers here. I'm sorry my boy, i'm so sorry....\" tears now forming in my eyes, simply unable to look at my son's face anymore as I clutched him closer to me. Looking over my shoulder I could see the lights and hear the whistles, we were losing this race for life.\n\n\"PLEASE PAPA! PLEASE!\" he shouted \"James! Lower your voice! They are right behind us! They will find us! James I beg of you!\" I pleaded with my son, over and over and over again but to no avail. \"Please Papa, I want the cookie, please! I WANT THE SWEETIE NOW!!!\" again he pleaded, the cookie being the only thing he could think of, unaware of the situation. Wondering back, maybe I shouldn't of made this a big game. Maybe I should have never showed him my powers, or wasted all our time helping others escape.\n\nDogs could be heard barking in the distance, getting closer and closer, seemingly ready to pounce, to sink their teeth and end our lives. Carrying on with theirs as if they knew nothing of the real world, taking orders like the sheep they were. \n\nGunshots and mortar fire booming in our chest, pure fear drowning out any thoughts of home by now as we ran and ran and ran. Finally tripping in a small creek, tumbling under a large log as I held my dear boy close in my arms.\n\n\"You know we have to save my power for the group James!\" but before I could even wait for my boys response the Gestapo's evil march could be heard, loudly closing in just a few feet away in every which direction. This was the end, we failed. James was crying hysterically. I scanned the area in a panic, desperate for escape but the howls of James crying had the Shepherds closing in, trained to find people like us. I had to make the hardest decision of my life, one I will never forget no matter how hard I try. One that makes me feel no better than those bastards who took everything from me.\n\nI placed my hand over my boys mouth, crying so hard I had to gasp for breath. James looked up at me with a look of pure terror as my hand grew warm and inviting, but was no such thing was felt as I gave my boy the cookie he had been asking for on this journey to freedom. Perhaps he was the lucky one, as his cries faded away and the light left his soft, pure soul. No gasps for air, the cookie perfectly teleported into his wind pipe. And with that I scurried away like an animal, across the river and into neutral lands. To live a life of eternal sadness without my sweet boy James, the sweetness of cookies forever lost to me."
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1,
1
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"1527266058",
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[WP] On your doorstep you discover a box. When you open the box, it’s that one product you were considering buying earlier. You discover that whatever you think of, the box gives it to you as long as it fits in the box. Rumours go around that you have a magical box and now everyone wants it. | 16 | [
"**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",
"*Hmmm*, I thought, *what should I do?*\n\nI thought for a moment, then opened the box and pulled out a magical *collapsible* box which I unfolded on the front lawn. There it stood, a gleaming cube eight feet on a side.\n\nThen I thought for a moment and opened it to find a magical collapsible *storage building* which I immediately assembled in the vacant lot next to mine.\n\nThen I thought for a moment and opened it to find a *magical* *self-driving delivery truck* which started itself and went on its way, autonomously delivering magical boxes to everyone who wanted one.\n\nThen I took my magical box inside and went back to bed."
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1,
4
] | [
"1527304399",
"1527306918"
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[WP] "You actually did 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",
"I felt my thoughts becoming fuzzy, hearing a soft voice but barely making out whats being said.\n\nI could feel a soft touch on my arm and look down to see a drop of water, and another and another. I want to tell them it doesn't hurt and won't ever hurt again.\n\nIf only they could let me go they would also be free, free of pain, free of the anchor chaining their life down.\n\nI don't have long now, I can feel the life seeping from my wrists. Looking up I meet her gaze and smile, wanting her to remember me like this, finally free, finally happy.",
"Would have thought that she would have been happy about it. She thought she was being clever when she told me to go find some uranium isotope 235. And when I brought to her in the correct lead-lined container, she gave me a look of horror, crossed her arms and whispered:\n\n\"You actually did it.\"\n\nI set the heavy container on our breakfast table.\n\n\"Course I did hun, just like you asked babe,\" I replied. She gave me a stern stare down, her hands losing colour from how tightly she had crossed her arms. \n\n\"I was fucking joking. And this is a joke, right?\" She stepped forward and examined the case. She tried to lift the thing but her feeble little arms would never be able to hold it.\n\n\"You think it's a joke sweetheart?\"\n\n\"Can you stop with that?\"\n\nI turned my back to her and smirked as I put the kettle on. A helicopter was hovering nearby. I could hear its engine and blades grilling the normal silence.\n\n\"With what my love?\"\n\nShe slapped my back and scoffed, no doubt with her annoying crossed arms.\n\n\"You know full well what. Stop with the stupid pet names. And I don't believe you. For all I know there's... is... that helicopter getting closer?\"\n\nWe both heard sirens beyond it too. She stared at me in panic as I poured in the hot water into a mug of coffee. \n\n\"Richard, did you really do it? I didn't mean to be mean, I didn't,\" she cried out, backing away from the windows.\n\n\"Too late now. You know what you said. I've done what you asked,\" I said and took a nice tongue-burning sip. Milkless and sugarless. Bitter as Hell.\n\n\"I-I was trying to make a point,\" she retorted hotly. \"But we need to get out of here.\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" I said, setting my mug down, \"Let's just run outside where all the armed police are waiting. Sounds like a great escape plan. Or do you want to tell me to do something you thought was impossible again?\"\n\nI reached for the case, pulled out a key from my pocket.\n\n\"What are you doing?\" she shrieked and lunged herself at me, knocking me down. I pushed her aside and stood up, brushed myself off. I put the key in and turned it.\n\n\"You'll kill us all! And so many innocent people, Richard! Please don't do this - this is my fault!\" She sobbed pathetically, her words not so audible over the helicopter. \n\nI unlocked the case and opened it as she covered her face with her arm. And then I showed her the contents. \n\nBricks. \n\n\"You're a daft little cow, cutie pie. Have fun rebuilding your life without me. We're done,\" I said and walked to the door. \n\nShe grabbed my trousers in a wild frenzy.\n\n\"S-s-so n-no bomb?\" she could barely get her words out.\n\n\"No you ugly pigeon. Now piss off and let me go,\" I tried to kick my leg away from her grip.\n\n\"A-and the h-helicopters?\" \n\n\"Fuck knows,\" I replied. She let me go. I opened the door and witnessed a gang of heavily armed men walked past our house towards a barrage of police. \n\nI threw myself inside, dropped to the floor beside her. Cried.\n\n(I dunno what kind of genre this would be but nonsensical comes to mind)\n\nAlso if you actually didn't roll your eyes at this, maybe check out my sweet new sub, r/astoriawriter! "
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1,
1,
4
] | [
"1527328697",
"1527363416",
"1527331656"
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[removed] | [WP] Aliens establish first contact with the government of another country. The White House gets offended. | 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 prompts referencing real world drama (including politics, recent tragedies, etc.) This includes prompts likely to attract such drama. \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/8mbtmm/-/%0A%0A)\n\n*This action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things.*"
] | [
1,
1
] | [
"1527357318",
"1527357424"
] |
[removed] | [WP] You have always lived a triple life. Not because you are a spy but because for your entire life you have been able to shift between two other parallel realities. You have the standard baseline reality of 21st century Earth where you live a normal life but what of the other two? | 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/8md50x/-/%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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"1527369319",
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[removed] | [Wp] You are trapped in a Hell of your own making. You’ve been frantically searching for an escape without success when suddenly you recall a weak link in the trap. What is it and how do you escape? | 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. 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/8mesgb/-/%0A%0A)\n\n*This action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things.*"
] | [
1,
1
] | [
"1527386058",
"1527386294"
] |
[removed] | [WP] Queen Elizabeth II is alive not because she is so resilient to the ravages of time, but rather because she is possessed by Princess Diana...mostly to spite Charles. | 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 prompts referencing real world drama (including politics, recent tragedies, etc.) This includes prompts likely to attract such drama. \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/8mfal1/-/%0A%0A)\n\n*This action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things.*"
] | [
1,
1
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"1527391819",
"1527393454"
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[removed] | [WP] You've never seen yourself as much of a peeping tom but you can't help but watch your neighbors in their backyard and through their kitchen window. One afternoon as you're out back you make a startling discovery about the seemingly normal family next door. They are watching you too. | 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\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/8mg0to/-/%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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"1527401424",
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[removed] | [WP] You’re a 15 year old boy with depression and your parents are distant. Onde day, you decide to commit suicide, but before you can jump, a girl appears, claiming that she’s your daughter from the future and that she has come to the present to help you fix your life, in order for her to exist. | 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",
"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/8mk5aq/-/%0A%0A)\n\n*This action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things.*",
"The bars felt gritty, the peeling paint warm where the metal was not. I could hear the gravel under my sneakers, crunching as I shifted my weight. My backpack was turning my spine into a swamp. I could see the water below, a hundred feet, two hundred, bisected by the red bars of the bridge. \n\nI was going to jump. \n\nI eased off the backpack, setting it where someone would find the journal. My suicide note was long, novel length, a bit condescending. It blamed everyone and no one. It was a mess. But I was a mess.\n\n\"Please, don't.\" A voice interrupted my thoughts.\n\nI looked beside me. The girl had to be my age, with silvery\\-blonde hair and deep green eyes. She was not pretty, slightly overweight and dressed like a typical anime fan. Her green sweatshirt was covered in Japanese writing and her pants were white\\-washed. \n\n\"Who are ya?\" I demanded. Anger made me clench my jaw and snarl. She was telling me what to do? Fucking people needed to back off. I was headed to better places, to other worlds, without this pathetic body holding me back. \n\n\"Cassadee... Cassadee Logans,\" the girl said. \"You call me Cassie.\" \n\nThere was a pause. She continued, as if trying to shove everything she had ever learned out a small tube. \n\n\"You call me Cassie or Cass, because you think it sounds better and Mom is really reluctant to have nicknames. Those are not popular when I am born. Too informal. And really it sounds stupid but Uncle Chuck and Aunt June are super into making Mom mad. You just sort of sit there and take it, but that's always been who you are, you just pazzazz everything.\"\n\n\"W.T.F. mate,\" I ask. I picked up my backpack and head farther down the bridge. This girl is obviously nuttier than gay pride parade.\n\nShe follows. \"You're Steven Alexander the Third. Your mother is Anjelica Turner Alexander. Your Dad left because he... couldn't handle shit. You never talk about it, because he burned you with\\-\\-\" \n\nI freeze. \"Who the fuck told you that?\" \n\n\"Your diary,\" Cassie says. \"You let me read it when I'm 13. It talks about this happening. This is your defining moment. You jump and survive, but end up spending time in the hospital. You meet Mom there, get her pregnant when you're 18, and things go from there.\" \n\nCassadee holds up the same journal, this one weathered. She reads a few passages, things I added later. It sounds like me, sounds like the person I might become. \n\n\"Do I become a doctor or something like that?\" I ask.\n\n\"No, you finish HS and then work for Grandpa's factory. You eventually own it after 10 years when he dies\\-\\-\" Cassie pauses. \"Look, if you don't jump, I don't exist. If you don't keep going, the whole world I know just doesn't happen.\" \n\n\"So this is about you?\" I ask.\n\n\"It's about all of us.\" \n\n\"I don't do anything with my life but have kids and work in a factory?\" I ask.\n\nCassie looks uncomfortable. \n\nI reach into the backpack, taking out the journal. With a small, smug smile I tear it in half. Cassie holds her chest like it pains her. The book seems to fade away in her hands. Then she is gone. "
] | [
1,
1,
2
] | [
"1527449838",
"1527452199",
"1527450970"
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[WP] You are Princess Lucy. Tell me about your morning routine. | 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 awake feeling dread in my stomach. The world outside is still pitch black, but I suppose it's morning technically. I force myself to rise, and a crippling pain hits my heart as my feet find the floor.\n\n*You're still not with me.*\n\nI stand up, and I begin heading to the bathroom. My walk is slow and shaky; it's hard to stay calm when you're not around. And when I reach for the handle, I find myself too weak to take hold. The tears have begun running down my cheeks.\n\n*I can't stop it now.*\n\nThrough blurred eyes, I make my way in and towards the sink. I begin to brush my teeth to stave off stains, but the stains you left on my heart aren't so easily fixed. I hear the gentle tap of my tears as they hit the porcelain. But I don't sob. I stay composed.\n\n*I am strong.*\n\nAs I get dressed, I remember the way you used to smile when we did it together. And as the sun begins to rise, I realise I've put on the wrong dress. Your dress. The one I bought for you the day we first kissed. I didn't realise it was still in my room. It doesn't smell like you anymore. I hold back my tears; the day will not break me. I head for the door to face the world.\n\n*I put on a smile.*"
] | [
1,
3
] | [
"1527507378",
"1527508635"
] | |
[WP] While playing with your two-year old outdoors in the rain, you jokingly tell her to turn off the rain. “Dada, turn off da rain!”, she exclaims and the rains suddenly stop. Your face turns ashen as you watch the clouds dissipate and the sun appear. | 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",
"I was suddenly woken up by my 2 year old running in and jumping on me this morning it’s her first time seeing rain. The world has gone dry it hasn’t rained for years and this is such a special occasion. So I got up and put some clothes on and put her rain gear on. \n \nBoth of us standing by the front door I look Lucy over making sure she won’t get soaking wet in the rain for a while making sure she has her coat on and her pant legs tucked into her boots. I looked at her and said “are you ready” she responded with a grin and a nod. I nodded back and held her hand as I opened the door. \n The cool air hit us. It woke me up more than my normal cup of coffee. I miss this feeling. We walked out and immediately I get soaking wet but Lucy was fine it almost seemed like she wasn’t even getting wet as she jumped from puddle to puddle. After a while i could tell she was bored as she walked up to me and looked up, “I want to do something else” she said. The rain would make the roads muddy all the way to the market and the car I built won’t make it through that quicksand like muck. \n\nI looked at her wit sorry eyes, “sorry sweetheart but we can’t go anywhere in this rain” she looked said as she looked up at the sky and back to me. “But I don’t like da wain anymore” Lucy said. I chuckled slightly as I knelt down and put my hand in her head rubbing it almost making her rain hat fall off, “than you should turn the rain off Lucy.” She smoked the biggest smile. I guess she thought it was a great idea. She turned around and through her arms in the air and yelled “Dada, turn off da wain!!” \n\nWe waited a few seconds. I looked at her thinks my she was so innocent to think she could actually turn the rain off and then the rain stopped. Lucy’s arms still in the air the clouds quickly dissipated and the sun came out. I was shocked. How could she have done that. No it was just coincidence there’s no way. I looked at Lucy and told her we should change and go eat before we leave anywhere. \n\nWhen we got in the house Lucy ran upstairs to change and her mother was in the kitchen. “Hey honey, “ I said as I kissed her and smiled. “Lucy really liked the rain huh,” my wife said to me as she flipped the pancake she was cooking. \n“Yeah she did but weirdest thing she made the rain stop I mean you didn’t fuck god or anything right” I said laughing making it as a joke but a god was really the only logical thing I could think of. My wife didn’t laugh. “Wait no really?” I asked the laugh gone. My wife turned to me and sighed, “I didn’t no but you did” I knew she was serious. \n “What are you talking about no i didn’t” my wife looked me dead in the eye and stood up straight as she put a hand on my shoulder she said “yes you did. I am god” I couldn’t believe it. I looked at my wife and then to my right at my daughter and smiled. We can do so many good things I thought and then I heard the thunder and a crash outside. \n\n\n(This is my first writing prompt so sorry for any mess ups I haven’t written in months) "
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"1527530718",
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[WP] As a drunken joke, you make a little shrine to the ancient goddess Ishtar, sacrificing chicken nuggets in her honor. When you wake up, she's sitting on the end of your bed. You're her new prophet and you've got a lot of work to do. | 180 | [
"**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 rubbed my head with the ice pack, the pulsating thud of my migraine coming through clearer than the woman across from me.\n\n\n\"So, when you sacrificed the chicken nibblets, my source material formed in this realm.\" She smiled innocently and went off on a tangent how she looked up prices of pamphlet printing at the nearest place. She also had figured out the printer and had been calling nearby KFCs, Churches chickens and various Korean fried chicken places. \n\n\n\"I must be hungover.\" I whimpered.\n\n\n\"Without a doubt.\" She sighed. \"I've called three of these places to start spreading my existence, but there are those that call me a fraud.\"\n\n\nIt was my time to sigh. \"I'm hungover, but not crazy enough to think that the managers and people of the fried food world are awaiting a deity to suddenly appear and make off with all of their saturated fat.\"\n\n\nFrom the door, I heard whispers. Must have been a gathering as my hearing wasn't getting any less sensitive. A few knocks later and I opened to reveal what can only be described as an oil bunch of greasers that held buckets of friend foods, nuggets, home made chicken niblets and other grimey things. \n\n\n\"The prophet is upon us! Save us!\"\n\n\nTheir bodies swarmed into the room before I could do anything, filling the tight spaces with the smells and smears of their fried sacrifices. \n\n\n\"I should mention only you can see me.\" The woman disappeared as the swarm continued to yell and holler. ",
"\"Good morning, Don.\"\n\n*Eh, what?* I'm roused from sleep by a voice somewhere close by. I try to sit up a bit to look towards the voice, but that was a mistake. *Tequila and McDonalds, never again...* I clutch my head tenderly and and squeeze my eyes shut.\n\n\"Don, sit up and pay attention. We have a lot of work to do.\" The voice calls out again.\n\n\"Work?\" I mumble groggily, \"I have people for that. Who ar- \" I cut of suddenly as I finally manage to wedge my eyes open enough to peek down towards the foot of my bed. \"Why are you dressed up like the fucking Statue of Libery? Jesus, who hired you? Get out, I promised my wife that I wouldn-\"\n\n\"Don, do you not remember your offering? The covenant we entered into together? I must say, chicken nuggets are hardly an acceptable sacrifice, but seeing as how it's been so long since I was last called upon I decided to make an exception. You should feel honored. I, Ishtar, Goddess of...well lots of contradictory things, has decided to make you my prophet. The first in millennia.\"\n\nThe woman at the foot of my bed continues to speak excitedly about herself, and her plans, and how lonely she's been without any followers for so long but my mind is too busy trying to piece together what happened last night to pay much attention. *I was at the board of directors meeting, no headway was being made on any of the agenda items so after adjourning a few of us went out for drinks. Drinks...tequila. Wait, did she say McDonald's? Peasant food? I would never-* \"**DON!** You listen to your Goddess when spoken to!\" Ishtar shouts, the sound seemingly coming from everywhere at once.\n\n\"Oh god, please...keep it down.\" I whimper as I press my pillows over my ears. The blankets are ripped off the bed violently, my pillows explode into white feathery clouds and after a moment of strange, ear-popping vertigo I suddenly crumple to my knees after my feet hit the carpeted floor. Terrified, my eyes open large like saucers. Somehow I'm 10 feet away from my bed, I turn my head around the room until I look up into the eyes of the woman standing over me.\n\n\"Now,\" she says sternly, \"you are going to pay attention. As I said, and I am *not* fond of repeating myself, I am Ishtar. Goddess of war, sex, love, combat, political power and many other things. You offered me a sacrifice last night, paltry as it were, and I have decided to make you my prophet. No, you cannot back out of this. No, you no longer have a choice. Yes, you must listen to my every command and finally no. You may not serve any other Gods or Goddesses nor may you ask them to deliver you away from me. If you listen to me, obey me, love me, worship me, sacrifice greater things to me I will give you everything you've ever wanted in this moral life. Work hard for me, and I will bless you with your hearts desires.\"\n\nThe more she spoke, the larger she seemed. Like one of those internet gifs that zooms in on a loop to give the impression of getting bigger or closer without ever actually changing size. She filled my vision, this beautiful, terrifying woman. The pressure of her presence bore down on me until I was prostrate before her. Her aura of power was breathtaking in the way a volcanic eruption was both beautiful and deadly. \"Yes, Ishtar. I will obey you. I will love you, I will worship you. Everything I achieve will be because you have given it to me. Everything is yours, I am yours.\" These words fly past my lips. I have never felt more sincere or resolute than in this moment. From the very core of who I am these feelings spread. This feeling of power. Power birthed by being in service to one you hold in the highest regard. Curious, I've never felt this for anything. I've always been top dog, it is others who serve *me*. But...this feel right.\n\n\"Raise, my Prophet. From this day forth you shall champion my will. In this era of relative peace you shall bring war. You will create love, and hate. Happiness and despair shall roll across the lands before you. What is it you need, my Prophet. What do you desire so you may begin our work?\"\n\nI climb shakily to me feet, heart burning with passion. *What I need?* This question echoes through my mind. \"What we need, my Goddess. Is power. The power of influence. The power of leadership. The power to change the course history.\" Ishtar's eyes brighten as she contemplates my words, a thoughtful expression crosses her face. \n\n*~Knock Knock Knock~*\n\nMy head spins towards the door. From behind Ishtar leans in close and whispers, \"Follow me, listen to my words, and you shall rule this country. Become their leader, their president, and from there extend my name throughout the world.\"\n\n*~Knock Knock Knock Knock~*\n\nIshtar's presence disappears as the knocks come again upon the door. \"What is it!\" I call out across the bedroom. A muffled voice replies \"You told me last night to wake you up before 7am so that you could get a round of golf in before your lunch meeting this afternoon.\" *Ah, yes. Lunch with Rudy. Well, change of plans.*\n\n\"No, cancel the course reservation. Call Rudy, call my lawyers, call everyone. This is an emergency. I have something I need to do that is more important than anything else they could be doing today. Tell them that. They can't refuse.\" I shout excitedly through the door. \"And get me some damn breakfast!\"\n\n\"Yes, of course Mr. Trump. Right away sir. What would you like for breakfast?\" questions one of my assistants.\n\nMy eyes agleam with fervor I whisper... \"America.\""
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[WP] Everyone in heaven wears a tag that tells the way that they died. After being in heaven for 20 years, one day you run into a guy with a tag that says spontaneous combustion | 87 | [
"**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 narrowed my eyes as I sat across the room. Curly blonde hair with black frizzy tips, reddish brown eyes, light lips and tanned skin; nothing out of the ordinary. Well, more than ordinary if I am being honest. So I did what quite a few girls wanting to have fun at the bar would do.\n\n\"Hey stranger, what is up with you?\" I smiled, placing the Bloody Mary in front of him as I sat across him.\n\n\"How did you know that this is my favourite?\" he gave me a charming, perfect smile as he took a little sip of the sinful drink. I shrugged, giving my best flirtatious grin.\n\n\"So, how come a beautiful girl wants to have a conversation with an ordinary guy?\" he frowned thoughtfully.\n\n\"You are being too humble,\" I giggled, \"you are quite a looker yourself!\"\n\nHe finished his drink quickly, which amused me. Well, he is not the first person who I had seen taking this course of direction. He coughed and shook his head.\n\n\"This place makes me uncomfortable,\" he frowned, \"Can we take a walk outside?\"\n\n\"Sure!\" I frowned in amusement.\n\nWe took a serene walk outside. This was Heaven and everything was beautiful as it should be. The lush green trees burdened with fruit lining the even brick pavements, with bright birds chirping, the clouds lining the barks of the trees with bridges. Rainbows emerged from the clouds, only to meet in the middle and form a beautiful tunnel. This was perfect.\n\n\"So,\" I looked at his death tag, \"Your tag says that you died of spontaneous combustion. Never heard of a human die like that!\"\n\n\"Uh huh...\" he commented nonchalantly.\n\n\"How did it happen?\"\n\n\"It is a punishment that I had to endure!\" he said, his face contorted in pain.\n\n\"But you escaped it,\" I frowned, \"You are in Heaven!\"\n\n\"Yes, I am\" he said, giving me a deep gaze and holding my hand, \"Yes, I am!\"\n\nWe walked farther along the path, his hold getting tighter with each step we took. I smiled a little at that.\n\nI had walked along this road many times before, but never out of the places that we were confined to. It was by rule to stay within, unless asked otherwise for mysterious reasons. Nonetheless, there were a few who did not hesitate to break them.\n\nJust like the mysterious man with me.\n\nHe held my hand tight as we made our way deeper into the colourful tunnel. I knew we were leaving the reservation because the colours began to fade into darker, gloomier shades. I began to frown.\n\n\"Um, I think we should better go back to the bar!\" I said, eyeing him.\n\n\"Why?\" he looked at me.\n\n\"We are not supposed to come this far,\" I commented as I began to sweat because of the rising heat.\n\n\"Do you know where we are?\" he began to increase his pace. I had an idea, but I did not want to say it. Ahead of us in the distance, where the rainbow had faded to black and the sky and trees were dark and bare, a bright light with orange\\-and\\-yellow hues glowed from somewhere below the ground. My suspicions of his intentions were confirmed.\n\n\"This is the story of my tag,\" he said, \"I died in prison and was sent to hell for my sins as a serial arsonist. I was enclosed in a tiny cell and a Demon was assigned to me. Every day, she sprayed thick liquid on me and set me on fire. She laughed at the sight of my skin peeling of, tissue by tissue. And the moment the last tissue fell and burned to ashes, she would whisper that I would never find anyone to replace me and she would find me if i did, before making me whole again so that she could start it... all... over... again...\"\n\nWe were nearing the glow. I could see a crack in the Earth, where tongues of fire began to lash out.\n\nHe broke down, \"I found out... the hard way... that the only way I could escape Hell was if I gave something in return... something pure... something from Heaven to balance the numbers... I searched for twenty years... and now...\"\n\nWe arrived at the place where all humans feared, where both the dimensions met. The reason why nobody would get off their reservation, to not doom their pristine fate.\n\nIt was the Gateway to Hell.\n\n\"I am so sorry,\" he said sadly as my eyes widened, \"Goodbye!\"\n\nI gripped his hand and pulled him as we both fell into the pit. He saw me as my skin burned. He saw me as my skin turned to ashes. He saw me as he let out a bloodcurdling scream.\n\nBecause, he was right...\n\n...if he escaped, I would find him!"
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[WP] Area 51 has just stared offering guided tours... | 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",
"\"Folks, I hope you all are as excited as we are,\" the tour guide in a bright yellow Polo shirt said. He greeted the gathered crowd in an open hangar bay. He smiled. \"We've spent a lot of time and resources to put his tour together, but we think it'll benefit everyone. My name is Tad, and if you've got any questions all you have to do is say, 'Hey Tad, I've got a question.' alright?\" he gave a practiced laugh, though not a single one of the guests cracked a smile.\n\n\"I promise you folks are going to see some wild things, but safety first. This is still technically a 'SECRET' base,\" Tad used air quotes. This time he heard a couple of chuckles in the crowd, and smiled to himself. \"So on your way in we equipped each of you some safety equipment. Does anyone have any questions about how it works?\" A dark skinned woman with golden eyes raised her hand. \n\n\"I don't think mine's working right,\" she said. She lifted her other wrist to show the small silver manacle\\-like bracelet they supplied to her. \"Everyone else's is invisible.\" Tad nodded.\n\n\"Yeah, yeah. It should definitely be invisible, but it looks like it's still working,\" Tad said. \"You can of course swap it out if you feel the need; but, because of the technology involved and how long it takes you'll end up missing this tour. Unfortunately the next one is in three months.\" Her golden eyes went wide, then she shook her head. \n\n\"Hell no, I've waited eons to be here,\" she said. \"Not another minute. If you guys are fine with it, I'm fine with it. Let's go,\" she said. Her sentiments were echoed by the crowd.\n\n\"Yeah, let's go already! We wanna see alien stuff!\" a young pale kid with blond hair said. \n\n\"Sorry buddy, still gotta go down the checklist. Next is food. As a reminder let me say, I hope you all packed meals. Remember we are not providing you with any food during the tour, we're not going to even try and keep up with everyone's possible allergies. And speaking of allergies, please don't share food guys. The last thing anyone wants is to end the tour early, you dig?\" Tad asked the crowd and they all mumbled a general agreement.\n\n\"Finally, souvenirs. I promise there will be gift opportunities along the way, but I have to remind you to keep your local ordinances in mind. Just because you can buy something here doesn't mean you're allowed to have it in your area. There will also be a security check at the end, and if we find anything known to be illegal in your area we reserve the right to confiscate it. You'll have spent your money for nothing.\" \n\n\"Hey, Tad. I've got a question,\" a tall, lean man asked. \"I didn't get any money,\" he said.\n\n\"That's not a question, man,\" Tad laughed alone. \"But no one has yet. We've got stipends to hand out once things start moving.\" Tad checked his watch. \"Which should be any minute now.\" A high pitched hum began to fill the air after his words. \"Ah, right on time. Folks if you'll follow me, let's line up over here away from the hangar door.\" Tad led the group to one side of the hangar while uniformed crew members opened the doors wide. The hum grew into a loud roar as gusts of winds kicked up dust off the hangar floor. \n\n\"Whoooooaa!\" the young blonde boy said as he saw the tall fin\\-like tail sliding backwards into the hangar. \"*Alien stuff*....\" he whispered. Tad walked behind him and ruffled the boy's shaggy hair. \n\n\"You ain't seen nothing yet. That's just the plane that's gonna carry us around the world in 80 days. Welcome to Earth, kid. You're gonna love it.\" \n\n\\*\\*\\*\n\nThank you for reading! I’m responding to prompts every day in 2018, this is #148. You can find them collected on my [blog](http://hserratafun.blogspot.com/2017/10/front-page.html)."
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1,
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"1527621318",
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[WP] Fountains of youth have become common around the world, granting those who drink it permanent youth, with a price. You refuse to drink from one, and have become the last man on earth who can reproduce. | 27 | [
"**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",
"They consider me a conservative. But I just think that mentality is all wrong. When I was a younger boy, I watched as they replaced the flow of water into the Buckingham fountain with eternal liquid. My pops was disappointed at the site, as he was disappointed that such a timeless piece of architecture has been transfigured into a water fountain for the public. We spent our summers sitting around the fountain and watched as the water would change colors, but now there was no room to look at the fountain because of the influx of people that surrounded the viscous fluid flowing out of the pipes.\n\n“If it ain’t broke, then why fix it?” he asked himself as he watched teenagers and young mothers and fathers lining up for the taste of the eternal fluid. No longer was society obsessed with plastic surgery. Now, everyone was refreshing their looks with a drink. \n\nGrowing up on this ideology, I felt a disconnect between myself and the rest of the kids in my class.\n\n“I swear I better never see your face near these waters baby. The black don’t crack. You beautiful as can be,” my grandma would threaten me. \n\nAnd so I didn’t. \n\nAnd everyone else did.\n\nMy life would have been a bit easier had I just took a sip of this drink. I would have had more job opportunities growing up. Every employer would turn me down at the sight of bags beneath my eyes, or any trace of wrinkles. I would probably have a wife had it not been for the shocks that these “progressive” women gave me upon hearing about my personal choice in the world. However, I persisted. Because in a world where everyone seemed the same age, and everyone had their mind wrapped around one obsession, it felt good to be different. \n\nI, like everyone else, was shocked to hear the high infertility rates due to this eternal fluid. News broadcasters recorded young, perfect looking couples crying frantically on camera at the thought that they would have no child. \n\nA shame. \n\nI found it no surprise that the government was able to trace me, the only human that has not drunken from this toxic fluid that inhibits future generations from even being created.\n\nAnd I rehearsed my guidelines over and over in my head. I wrote and re-wrote a contract that I would hand to them. I would be their supplier under one, very important condition: the eternal fluid is banned forever. \n\nAt first, the government officials eagerly accepted my request and guided me to their sleek black limo. However, I stood my ground at the doorstep of my home. At their confusion, I clarified:\n\n“I will be your source for the future after the ban has been finalized. After I see for myself that it is all gone.”\n\nThe young men in black suits looked at each other in astonishment.\n\n“Sir. That can take nearly years.”\n\nTheir use of the term “sir” indicated to me that they were far older than what they seemed to look. \n\n“Well, you better hurry then. I’m getting old.”\n\nFor nearly 5 years, I watched as the ban was instituted. Medical facilities opened all over the globe to help addicts cope. However, the rigor that started this movement slowly died.\n\nPeople were committing suicide at the thought of a wrinkle inching their way on their face.\n\nAnd so the experiments continued. And it was concluded.\n\nA fraction of the world will drink a special form of the eternal fluid that will transfigure them back to the times when they were babies. And life will continue to repeat itself eternally.\n\nI for one am glad I won’t see a world with that craze. \n"
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1,
15
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"1527648678",
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[WP] Your best friend is convinced that everything is created by their imagination, and that nothing is truly real. In your search to find proof of reality, you only find more and more reasons that they’re not wrong. | 124 | [
"**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",
"Sophia calls me at 7:45 on a Saturday, and five minutes later I am sitting on the couch in her tiny studio rubbing the sleep from my eyes, watching her pace to and fro. Normally anyone daring to disturb my sacred weekend mornings can expect an offering of my most inventive curses, but Sophia isn't anyone and this is not like her. In the ten years we've been friends, I've never seen her so much as tear up. Yet hear she is, pale and shaking, tears running down her cheeks seemingly without her notice.\n\n\"Look!\" she keeps insisting in a choked voice, pointing to her cat Sam. As usual, the tortoiseshell studiously ignores both humans in the room, choosing instead to gracefully lick at his extended hind leg. Sophia has owned him for four years, and this certainly isn't unusual behavior.\n\n\"Is something wrong with Sam?\" I ask. \"He looks all right to me.\"\n\nSophia gazes at me as though I'd grown a second head. \"Eva...\"\n\n\"Look,\" I say with some annoyance now. \"You're going to have to explain to me what's going on. All you said was for me to get here ASAP. I'm here for you, but you need to...\"\n\n\"I've never had a cat in my life,\" interrupts Sophia flatly. \"Sam is...was a dog. How can you possibly not know that?\"\n\nI am silent for a moment, trying to carefully choose my words. It's getting clearer by the second that my best friend is have some sort of breakdown, and I decide that my best course of action for the time being is to play along, keep her as calm as possible. \n\n\"Um, okay. So you're saying that you have a dog named Sam. Do you...did he run away or something?\"\n\nSophia is staring at me with saucer-like eyes, slowly shaking her head. Her chin trembles. When she speaks, her voice is so broken and lost that it scares me.\n\n\"No, you don't understand. I *do* have a dog, he was here less than 30 minutes ago. He...he was barking at something in the yard and I was half asleep and I just had this stupid thought...I thought to myself, *If only Sam were a cat, I wouldn't be awake right now,* and suddenly the barking stopped and...and...\" She can go no further.\n\nNone of this makes sense. \"Sophia,\" I tell her as gently as possible. \"You've always had a cat. I've known Sam for four years, I was there when you picked him out of the shelter, remember?\"\n\n\"No!\" Sophia cries out. \"How are you not freaked out right now...wait.\" A look comes into her eyes, something of the Sophia I know, logical and curious and determined. She closes her eyes briefly, then opens them again. Her face drains of the little color it possessed and she falls to the floor.\n\n\"Sophia!\" My shout of alarm echoes through the mansion as I leap towards her, trying to stop her head from crashing against the marble floor.\n\nShe's gazing off into the distance with glazed eyes, murmuring something. I bend closer to hear.\n\n\"It's too big, it's too big...\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\" I cry, really frightened now. I fumble in my pocket for my phone but a cold hand on my wrist stops me. Sophia is shaking her head, very pale but now composed. \n\n\"I changed it back, it's okay,\" she says in a monotone, gesturing at the dingy walls and the ancient couch. \"I was hoping it was just a fluke, just a one time thing, but I guess it's not.\"\n\n\"What the hell is *this?* What do you mean? Sophia, please let me call someone. You're obviously experiencing something weird but I can't help you if I don't know what it is.\"\n\n\"I don't think anybody can help me, it's just me now,\" she says with an odd sort of laugh, somewhere between a chuckle and a sob. Then she looks directly at me. \"You want to know what *this* is?\"\n\nSophia is obviously believing in or seeing things that are not real. Well, they're real to her I suppose. If I can somehow reach wherever her mind is roaming, bring her back to reality... \"If that will help you, then yes. Tell me what to do.\" \n\n\"Take a video of yourself on your phone,\" she responds, gazing at me intently.\n\n\"Woah, uh...you know I love you like a sister, but not in *that* way...\" Sophia doesn't roll her eyes or laugh.\n\n\"No, I mean it,\" she insists. \"Just of your face. That's all you need to do.\"\n\n\"Okay.\" Now I'm oddly nervous, my pulse thrumming and sweat springing up on my palms. I make sure the camera is facing me and then I press record. I give it a good ten seconds, then glance questioningly at Sophia.\n\nShe is convulsed in silent, hysterical laughter, rocking back and forth and grasping her knees with a white knuckled grip. As I watch appalled, the laughter becomes louder and wilder, until she is screaming and gasping for breath.\n\nI drop the phone and grip her by the shoulders. She looks up at me and I see my face reflected in her streaming eyes.\n\n\"So, how does it feel?\" she chokes out.\n\nI have no idea what she wants me to say.\n\n\"I gotta say, you looked better as a chick,\" she says, calmer now.\n\n\"What are you...\"\n\n\"Watch the video.\"\n\nI pick up my phone, stop the recording and then start it from the beginning.\n\nAn unfamiliar young woman looks steadily out at me. It's almost like I know her...or no, it's just that she could be my long-lost twin sister. Same eyes, same mouth, same skin color. She's even wearing a similar blue flannel shirt. \n\nAnd then before my eyes, she...changes. Faster than the blink of an eye. Into me.\n\nNo, can't be. I watch the video again, and again. I hear Sophia cackling wildly somewhere behind me. There's a cold feeling in my stomach, like my body knows something my brain can't process.\n\n\"Dude, is this some kind of a weird app?\"\n\nSophia's sitting on the floor with her arms around Sam, looking younger than I've ever seen her. \n\n\"I like you better as Eva anyway,\" she murmurs, stroking Sam who nuzzles at her cheek. I watch the video again, at how I suddenly transform into my male doppelganger. The coldness intensifies. \n\n\"How did you...\"\n\n\"I think you should go now,\" says Sophia abruptly, standing up and heading for the door. \"I need to figure some things out, and...I think it would be better if I were alone for this.\"\n\n\"Wait,\" I protest, grabbing her by the shoulder. \"I don't know what's going on but we'll figure it out together! We'll do more experiments or I don't know, I could look something up online...\"\n\n\"What are you talking about?\" asks Mark, staring up at me blearily from his side of the bed. \"Look what up online? And why are you wearing your sneakers?\"\n\nWhy am I wearing my sneakers? I must have gotten up early to get the paper and somehow forgotten all about it, here in the warm darkness of our bedroom. Unusual for me.\n\n\"Went to get the paper and then zoned out, I guess,\" I tell him, kicking off my sneakers and dropping a light kiss on his cheek. He's already back to snoring and I feel sleep tugging me under as well. A fleeting word skirts the edge of my consciousness as I curl up and close my eyes. *Sophia.*\n\nIt's weird. I've never met anyone by that name.\n",
"\"What else is there?\"\n\n\"Well, we've got this.\"\n\nCharles reached for the pile of Old Milwaukee cans scattered haphazardly on and around his workspace. He had to jiggle a few cans out of the arrangement of a dozen or so before he found a half full one.\n\n\"Hear me out, man. What I'm trying to say is that this is all we are. These words I'm passing to you. What else could there be? I mean, everything else--your beer--your family--everything in your life amounts to producing a garment you're supposed to wear, if wear is the right word, if you're lucky, maybe on one special day. Most people don't even get to wear it. Why are they even buying the dress then?\"\n\n\"You're thinking about this too much.\" Charles said.\n\n\"No, you brought it up. She's buying the dress and nobody can change her mind. She'll want the unique one, obviously, designed and sewn by your grandmother's own hand.\"\n\n\"It's a beautiful dress.\"\n\n\"No it's not. Look at it, it's just a bunch of white with the edges scratched off.\"\n\n\"I don't quite get where you're coming from.\"\n\n\"Look, Charles, we've known each other too long. You know what the dress means, you're the one getting married. We have the dress and nothing else, well some of us do, the nymphs they are departed. The dress is final and its significance is singular and final and it only gets used once. It only needs to get used once, the rest is silence. Or maybe repeated endlessly like a broken record. The opposite of silence might as well be silence.\"\n\nCharles reached for his rig and took a hit.\n\n\"So you're saying there's nothing else? Nothing at all? Is this silence?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"No there's nothing else or...\"\n\n\"It's like a game of Pong with words. It gets faster and faster and you get closer and closer but there's still just two paddles and the ball can only go one way. There's no such thing as a tie in the game of Pong.\"\n\n\"You're wrong, we tied last night.\"\n\n\"That was a fluke.\"\n\n\"But it happened.\"\n\n\"Refer to the rules of Pong, a tie cannot happen. The game gets quicker and quicker until one side eventually wins. Do you know that Pong was one of the earliest games to incorporate artificial intelligence?\"\n\n\"That wasn't AI.\"\n\n\"Well they sure marketed it as that. 'Computer-controlled'\"\n\n\"Charles, is this conversation going anywhere?\"\n\n\"The other reason you can't tie in pong is that the paddle can't go all the way up and down on the side of the screen. This adds a certain element of conceived uncertainty to the game. Although, really, the computer isn't really there any more than the photons of the Pong paddle filtered through the projector lens are there.\"\n\n\"What is there?\" I asked.\n\nCharles reached for a beer.",
"\"Rob... dude, pick up your phone! I\\-I'm seriously freaking out right now...\" are the first words I hear as I playback the voicemail waiting for me on my phone. It's my friend, Caleb. A few days ago, something strange started happening with him. We were sitting around one day watching \"Hook\" on Netflix when he turns to me and says: \"Hey man, what should I get Mel for Valentine's? It's like kinda awkward timing, you know? We just started dating a few weeks ago.\" I had responded with: \"Dude, shut up. Stop...\" and I threw a pillow at his face. Caleb was always spinning tales and role\\-playing in weird ways. It was his humor. We had laughed for a little bit as we fired pillows back and forth.\n\n \n\n\"But seriously, man. Are chocolate and flowers too cliché? I mean, I know it is. But like, I can't go all out yet on presents. It's too soon.\" Caleb continued. \"OK, what? You're kidding, right? Did you forget to tell me you're dating?\" I remember asking, feeling confused and a bit slighted that he hadn't told me. Rob looked as confused as I was as we both stared at each other half\\-waiting for the other person to start laughing. \"Melanie... man. You know, coffee girl? The one we were at the arcade with yesterday.\" My stomach began to churn at this point and I was still giving Caleb that I\\-seriously\\-have\\-no\\-clue face. We had gone to the arcade but it was just a boys night out. \"Dude, I don't know a Melanie... are you gonna stop now?\" I remember still believing or hoping Rob would start laughing, but he didn't. I knew he was serious. What ensued next was the strangest and most heated argument of our friendship. He swore up and down that there was a Melanie that he had been dating. I tried to convince him of the contrary.\n\n \n\nCaleb's message continued: \"... I know that fight the other day was weird. But I really need to see you. Right now, man. I know I imagined the whole thing with Melanie... She's some girl I was following on Instagram. I know that now. But I'm freaking looking at the photo booth picture the three of us took together at the arcade. All three of us are in it, Rob. She's in it! Just come over as soon as you get this... and bring your picture.\"\n\n\\(Part 2 of 2 to come!\\)"
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1,
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18
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"1527652637",
"1527714187",
"1527659166",
"1527660020"
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[WP] You are able to see everyone's remaining lifespan in hours. After getting out of the lavatory on an airplane, you see that everyone has 1 hour left to live. | 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",
"It had to be the excitement that did him in. He struggled and pushed against the weight, but nothing would come out. His stomach hurt. He looked at the door and how curved it was. Outside was light with sun through the windows and blue sky everywhere and the slanted shadows of agitated passengers. \n\n\nThat smell of the airplane pillows. The plastic cups that would fold against a brush. \n\n\n*Flying,* he thought.\n\n\nHe tried his best but he was constipated. He had flown many times before.\n\n\n*Not like this. Not after what Pablo said.*\n\n\nAnd he thought it funny how he would think of the man as some close friend. He had only met him in the airport. He was one of those people who liked to talk and make friends. Pablo had seemed eager for his company.\n\n\nHe pushed again and the back of his thighs were wet. Relief burned over leaving him flushed in sweat and a dozing sort of weakness. He did not even mind the smell. \n\n\nHe flushed the toilet and made for the door. That excitement bubbled again and made his stomach fold within its emptiness. Among the passengers was someone special. \n\n\n*\"A real cartel hitman, I'm telling you. He's in how do they say it... He's in incognito. There's a big man with him, the American guardsman who's to take him back to the States.\"*\n\n\n*\"You've gotta be fooling me! They wouldn't do that. Why would they bring a criminal on a passenger flight?*\"\n\n\n*\"Friend, I'm telling you they would. Have you ever heard about the other Pablo? The drug king, Pablo Escobar?\"*\n\n\n*\"Of course I have! Is this guy one of his men?\"*\n\n\n*\"No, no, no.... But word around me is... Come closer, friend. You may want to take a drink of your drink there too... Yes, that's it... Word around me is he's Pablo Escobar's cousin!\"*\n\n\n*\"His cousin!?\"*\n\n\n*Yes, friend, his cousin. And not only that, but his cousin on his mother's side!\"*\n\n\n*\"Oh my word... What does that mean?\"*\n\n\n*\"Pablo was always closer to his mother's side of the family.\"*\n\n\n*\"So this is like...*\"\n\n\n*\"This is like Narcos without a Netflix, friend!\"*\n\n\nHe walked out of the toilet. He looked around but something was wrong. He had the unexplained and narratively unexplained ability to see how many hours remained in a person's life. All of a sudden, everyone had less than an hour remaining.\n\n\nHis bowels trembled. He looked around at men and women staring at him in disgust. In the morning light they all looked unpleasant.\n\n\n*Flying could do that to you,* he thought but even his mind seemed to stutter.\n\n\nWhich one could it be? There were so many people on the flight. Which one was the cartel member? He could be the only one who could sabotage this flight. \n\n\n*They're all staring at me.*\n\n\nAn older man lifted himself as much as the seatbelt would allow him to.\n\n\n\"Is this the new terrorism?\" he said. \"Shitting so stink to send us all to high heaven?\"\n\n\nHe flushed. Then he smelled it. It had followed like a sneaky child, a cloud of noxious stench. \n\n\nMummurs from the plane. \n\n\nAnother man was making eye contact. He had a glass eye and a bandage on his face. He pulled off the bandage to reveal a tattoo of a kitten sleeping. His eyes bulged as he remembered what Pablo had said.\n\n\n*\"Drink more of your drink, friend. It will be a long flight...\"*\n\n\n*\"Tell me of this cartel man. Will I know what he looks like when I see him?\"*\n\n\n*\"Hard to say. The American government will take the utmost care to make sure he blends in. You wouldn't want to scare the rest of people. But this particular gangster is from a cartel called the Gatos... The Cats. They say they all have a tattoo of a cat somewhere. If you see someone with a cat, then that's probably him...\"*\n\n\nNow the man with the kitten tattoo unbuckled his seatbelt. A bald headed man next to him tried to restrain him. The man with the kitten tattoo pointed and screamed in Spanish. \n\n\n\"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I didn't think the smell would follow.\"\n\n\nHe felt his life in danger. Time was ticking above everyone's heads. He knew if he looked in a mirror he would see his own life ebbing away.\n\n\n*I should have washed my hands,* he thought. *Then I would have catched it.*\n\n\nAnd somewhere in his mind his dead mother corrected him.\n\n\n*Caught. The word is caught, Johnny.*\n\n\nHe wanted to cry. He missed her and the life she represented: a simple time of safety and joy.\n\n\nNow the man with the kitten tattoo was trying to get away from the bald man.\n\n\n\"He have bomb!\" the man said. \"Bomb was in ass. Bomb already exploding!\"\n\n\nAnd the older man who had called him out agreed. \n\n\n\"Oh yeah, he had a bomb in his alright. By God, I should have paid the extra for first class!\"\n\n\n\"No! Not that... Real bomb! Real bomb!\"\n\n\nThe plane rippled in panic. Discomfort swarmed as the people all turned and darted, looking around at the hopeless air, thinking of explosions and death.\n\n\n\"What... No!\" he said. \"My name is Johnny. It's just the beer and vodka I had. No bomb! No bomb!\"\n\n\nThe man with the kitten tattoo squinted at him.\n\n\n\"What type of vodka?\" he asked. \"What type?!\"\n\n\n\"The green apple one,\" he blurted.\n\n\nThe man wrested free of the bald headed man.\n\n\n\"Pablo!\" he screamed. \"Pablo drink apple. Poison Pablo!\"\n\n\nJohn reeled as the man tackled him. The passengers were all screaming. The stewardesses hid behind the curtain.\n\n\n\"Pablo don't want me talk! Pablo poison you!\"\n\n\nHe was beating him. He felt his bowels let go and more of the poison ran down his pants. People started to gag and vomit. A baby was crying and he remembered all the times he had flown before.\n\n\n*Usually a baby crying is the worst part of it all.*\n\n\nHe could taste the stale crap in the air. There was something else too. \n\n\n*\"Drink up, friend. It is not poison. You have a long flight ahead. Drink, drink up.\"*\n\n\nHe thought how stupid he was then. His face was numb and had gone cold. The bald headed man was trying to rip the kitten tattoo man off of him but he knew the damage had been done. Everyone's number was in the minutes now. They would all die. He would die first.\n\n\n\"Poison Pablo run free to drink apple vodka while I die in jail!\" screamed the man.\n\n\nThen he was ranting in Spanish.\n\n\n*None of this is asking where the library is. That's why I can't understand him.*\n\n\nAnd he realized he was delirious. Some people had already fainted. The smell would not leave. People were dying with that being their last scent.\n\n\n*I might go to hell for this.*\n\n\nThe kitten tattoo man was pulled away but he was already slipping. The ceiling of the plain wavered and was smoky. It looked like a big cloud almost, and he felt like he was in the park as a child, just staring at the sky.\n\n\n*It looks like a baggage compartment,* he thought.\n\n\nHe was crying. The clouds in his youth were more interesting.\n\n\n*You lose your imagination as you get older. You become an adult and life just shatters you.*\n\n\nHis stomach grumbled. Everything seeped out. He was going then. His eyes were closing. He could not remember his last thoughts, but he remembered thinking:\n\n\n*You got me good, Pablo. You got me good.*\n\n\nThen it was all over.\n\n\n-\n\n\n*Hi there! If you liked this story, then you might want to check out my subreddit, r/PanMan. It has all my WP stories, including some un-prompted ones. Check it out if you can and thanks for the support!*\n"
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1,
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"1527655399",
"1527665875"
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[WP] A unknown creature living by a isolated stretch of highway, uses a "lure" to tempt drivers to stop in order to devour them. You are driving down this highway. | 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",
"*YOU'VE REACHED JOHNNY ON 96.8 \\- CLASSIC ROCK AROUND THE CLOCK ALL DAY EVERY \\-*\n\nBzzt.\n\n*Morticia Mallows here with another freaky fable for you all. Scary stories to keep you company on the lonesome drive \\-*\n\nBzzt.\n\n*\"Whats that coming over the hill, is it a monster? Is it a monsterrrrr?!\"*\n\n...\n\nThat'll do I suppose. I guess I can always flick back to moody Morticia if the songs get boring. I always hate long drives. Well no, I hate driving entirely. Every kid in my class longed for the day they could drive and own a car. I never saw it that way. To me it was always just a useful skill, no more, no less. Besides, I hate people enough as it is. On the road they're a whole different kettle of fish.\n\nThe car's making those sounds again. Like an old man coughing up flem. I hope to god this hill evens out eventually, I don't think it'll make it much further. Come on you piece of shit, just a little bit more... there we go.\n\nHmm, I'm not sure what I was expecting. The hill seemed so high and long I thought I'd surely see the pearly gates at the summit. Nope. Just more of the Iceland flatlands. What an odd country. The road seems pretty tame for a while now, if not a little bendy. I'll take that all day compared to that mammoth of a hill.\n\nThe road is lonesome, like most of the country outside Reykjavik. I wouldn't be surprised if I didn't see another car for a good while. On either side of the road is land that stretches out for miles, with ice tipped mountains on the periphery. The flat land is covered in a splendid green as grass sprouts out for miles. Meanwhile, Greenland is eternally cloaked in snow and ice. How did these names come to be? I guess I'm not the first to make this observation. What an odd country.\n\nUp ahead I notice something odd. Hmm fitting. The flat, grass filled land either side of the road is no more, replaced by dense shrubbery on both sides of the tarmac. I'm passing it now, the heavy foliage climbs higher than the top of my car. I feel like I am driving down a very long, very narrow, corridor. It seems to stretch for miles. Strange, none of the locals mentioned this to me. Odd people in an odd country, I suppose.\n\nI slam my foot on the break as I notice it in the road. My seat\\-belt does its job, keeping me firmly planted in my seat, if not a little painfully. Alas, they do not make seat\\-belts for large cups of coca cola sourced from McDonald's, I lament, as I watch it drip down my windshield. Then I notice the thing again. The thing that made me stop. It jerks erratically in the centre of road, a little hop towards the dense foliage. I peer closer at the minuscule object.\n\nA fish?\n\nNot a real one of course, but a small, plastic fish, bobbing along rhythmically towards the shrubbery, as if it were real and flopping about for air. I step out of my car, careful to limit the noise I make to a minimum. The fish continues to bob along, and I notice it is being pulled by a small string. I follow the string with my eyes as it crosses the road and disappears behind the wall of green. I make for it, but then stop. Something holds me back. Perhaps I should not approach whatever is behind there directly.\n\nI notice a small opening in the shrubbery next to me, and clamber through to the other side. I stand and dust myself down, wiping away leaves and soil. Then I turn to where the string would come out.\n\n...\n\n...\n\nA...\n\nA fish.\n\nNot the same fish. Not the same at all. It's huge, almost the size of a fully grown man. It's sitting on a box as it concentrates on the string and shrubbery in front of it. A small mallet lies close to its side, the kind a fisherman would use to smack a caught fish. It's completely clad in fisherman gear. A beige outfit covering its salmon coloured scales, with a little bucket hat planted atop its head. It somehow holds a fishing rod in its terrifyingly sized fins, and I notice the string attached to the end of the rod. I stand dumbfounded at the sight before me, and quite luckily, it seems to have failed to notice me, entirely engrossed in the string it is slowly reeling through the the shrubbery.\n\nI hear a rustle in the greenery, and it seems it does too. With one fin still on the rod it lowers the other to the mallet, seizing it firmly. It lifts it above its head as the final part of the string starts to creep through the overgrowth. I see its eyes narrow. Its fin trebles. With anger, fear or excitement I do not know. But it does tremble, greatly.\n\n\"Come on you bastard,\" it whispers as the small plastic fish appears on the end of the string. \"Let's see how you like it.\"\n\nWhat an odd country.\n\n\\-\n\nr/ShittyStoryCreator :\\)",
"MY eyelids are heavy. The sun went down hours ago. Road stretches before me. Finally, a sign of life. A man in a hoodie. I pull over my Honda Civic and suddenly I'm thinking about the last time I changed my tires.\n\n\"Hey man,\" I say to him. \"have you seen my dog?\"\n\nThe man with the hoodie doesn't say a word but points down the road, his eyes are tired. \"You've seen him? He's that way?!\" The man nods the nod of someone who just wants to be left alone. I thank the man and am on my way.\n\nPiles and piles of leaves line the embankments parallel to the road. I roll the windows down and shout. My words turn to frost on the freezing fall air. \"Hammer! Come here boy!\"\n\nDarkness. Silence. What was that? Did I hear something? There it is again. It has to be Hammer. I'm sure of it. I pull the car over. The ambient light makes the forest next to the road seem darker. My hands on my keys as I peer out into the darkest of nights. A gust of chill wind blows through my open window. Fear suddenly grips me tightly. Hammer, my baby boy, he would come for me without any hesitation. I turn the key and my car shuts off. \n\nThe silence is deafening. I hear nothing but my heart beating through my chest. \"Leave the headlights on,\" I try to keep myself thinking. I get out. My footsteps echo in the darkness. A sinking feeling that If there's anything looking for me in the woods, it can see me and hear me clear as day. I head towards my trunk. \"Get your flashlight.\" My heavy duty maglite. Just in-case. The weight of it comforts me. Woof. In the trees, he's not far! \"Hammer! Hammer come!\"\n\nA ditch in the road, then a steep embankment. I look down into the ditch. Things seem further in the dark. Woof. \"Hammer! Come!\" I look around. It's impossibly quiet. I make a step into the ditch, then gather speed and before I know it I'm on the other side. I can see movement within the treeline. \"Hammer! What's wrong boy?!\" Hammer doesn't hear me, he's barking now his voice ringing clear and crisp on the cold August air. I pick up speed and make my way toward him my maglite pointed in front of me. Hammer is there for me when I wake up, we eat every meal together. Hammer would follow me into the pits of hell. Why isn't he listening? \"Hammer!\"\n\nHammer is in a clearing, surrounded by trees. Barking. \"Hammer what are you-\" A man wearing my clothes. With my hoodie. Long dead. Hammer is barking at him. I approach slowly. \"What? Who?\" I pull the hoodie back. It's me.\n\nI feel a sting as my teeth cut my lip as my body is shoved from behind into a tree before me. \"AHH!\" I cry out into the darkness. I drop my flashlight and it bounces. A heavy scent of alcohol and garbage. A glint in the dark as the hooded man pins me against the tree from behind and stabs into my lower back and stabs and stabs and stabs. Hammer jumps on him. Tears at his hands and arms, cuts him up real bad. The man tries to run, but hammer wont let go. \"Hammer,\" I hear myself say. Hammer turns around and runs back to me. The man gets up and in the dark I see how badly his arm is mangled. Good boy. The man gets up and disappears into the black his breath on the air is the last I see of him.\n\nI slump down against a nearby tree. Hammer by my side. \"We will get out of here boy. I just need to rest a minute the car is just over there. Don't let me fall asleep... I just need to close my eyes a bit. \n\nIt's so cold. \n\nIs that hammer barking?\n\nI jerk awake and I'm on a road in the middle of nowhere. A man in a hoodie with tired eyes. I pull over, \"Hey man, have you seen my dog?\"",
"The car is an old, beat up looking thing, red in colour. I don't think much of my truck but this thing probably hasn't been called new for thirty years, no wonder its haphazardly pulled up at the side of the road, hood up and gently smoking.\n\nThe woman beside it is waving at me, a pleading look on her face. I glance at my watch, its only six o'clock or a little after \\(I've sworn for years the watch is about five minutes fast however I set it\\). I've got time to stop, I'm not expected till seven and I cant be more than half an hour away now.\n\nI slow, signal and pull over. Compared to the warmth of my cab its quite chilly out here so I grab my jacket as I open the door and jump down. I walk towards the women and trying my best not to look like a serial killer, its isolated out here and a little eerie, last thing I want is to try and do a good deed only for her to think I'm a rapist or murderer or something. I sigh with relief when she smiles back.\n\n*'Howdy'* I say, still grinning, *'looks you folks' are in a spot of trouble?'*\n\n*'You could certainly say that'* she laughs\n\n*'Thanks for stopping, you're the third guy who's gone past and we were starting to lose hope'*\n\nPulling my jacket over shoulders I'm about to ask who's *we* when a man climbs out of the car and stands up, obviously having been out of sight in the front seat. He's tall and broad and probably a few years younger than me and is looking mightily pissed off at the phone in my hand.\n\n*'Useless piece of shit'* he mutters and then, apparently seeing me for the first time, spins the phone in his hand so the screen is facing me in way of explanation. NO SIGNAL is clearly visible in the top corner.\n\n*'Sorry about that, I've been trying the stupid thing for nearly an hour and nothing's working'*\n\n*'Its not a problem'* I laugh, *'trust me I drive this way every now and then and you're further from civilization up here than you think. Its the hills, they block the signals, some times my GPS goes crazy.*\n\nThe woman shoots me a *urgh you know it* look, rolling her eyes in mock frustration.\n\n*'I'm Rachel'* she grins, *'and this is my husband Rick*'\n\n*Matt* I say returning the introduction, *'so you folks hit something?'*\n\nRick answers this time, *'If we did I didn't see it, we're meant to be visiting my mother back in Fort Lewis but we thought we'd drive a different way this time and this is what we get. The engine's fucked, started sounding kinda' weird and the next thing we know we're not moving at all.*'\n\nHe indicates this last point with the jerk a thumb over his shoulder at the gently smoking car behind him.\n\nI laugh\n\n*'Well you'll be lucky to get through to a tow truck up here, or get one at this time as well. I'm no mechanic but I'll be happy to take a look for you or, if its truly busted, I can give you a lift to Long Water. Its where I'm headed anyway and its not too far.'*\n\nBoth of their faces brighten at this\n\n*'You are a GOD SEND'* beams Rick, looking ready to clap me on the back while Rachel beams at me.\n\n*'Not a problem, I always try and do others a good turn and its gonna get cold up here soon when it gets dark, I can't be leaving y'all out here.'*\n\nI stride round to the front of their car and, bending down, try to wave a hand through the steam rising from their engine.\n\nAccidently I pass a few fingers through it and let out an involuntary *fuck*, expecting it to sear my skin. But it doesn't, instead its cold, almost freezing.\n\n*What in the..*\n\nGingerly I press my finger tips into the cloud. It feels icy, almost slightly sticky, like a residue is left on my skin.\n\nI feel a hand lightly tough my shoulder, half turning I see Rachel beside me.\n\n*'Is everything alright?'*\n\nShe looks mildly concerned\n\n*'Yeah its all good,.. well actually'*\n\nI tap the side of the raised hood with my knuckles and involuntarily recoil as it *falls away* under my hand. The metal, rather than offering resistance like every sense is telling me it should do, is pressed inwards with the consistency of putty. I can see indentations left by my knuckles.\n\n*'What the FUCK'*\n\nI try to recoil, to pull my hand way, but I realise that Rachel is still holding my shoulder. In fact, her grip is vice like, her fingers stabbing through my jacket and almost biting into the muscle.\n\nI turn towards her and realise that she isn't smiling anymore. In fact her entire face is *blank*. Not just devoid of emotion but lax, as if every muscle is dead or unmoving. Like a wax mask of a human being.\n\nI try to step away but her grip is strong, inhumanly so. She must be about 50lbs lighter than me but I cant free myself. I realise Rick has moved closer, I turn to him in desperation\n\n*'Please, I don't know what this is, please make her let go.'*\n\nLike Rachel his face is completely blank, sullen, strangely lax. And then, for a fraction of a second as I plead, he smiles. Its not a smile of pleasure, at least not of any pleasure that I would understand. More like an animal bearing its teeth.\n\nAnd then his face begins to run. His skin begins to drip, like a melting candle, down his neck. His nose vanishes inwards and his eyes seem to melt away, deforming like paint running off a canvas. Within seconds his face collapses inwards, revealing a grey hollow space, filled only with something segmented and dark and shiny where there should be blood and muscle, bone and brain.\n\nMy body goes numb with fear and I feel a primal scream rising within me like I'm a little child again. I try and wrench myself free from Rachel's grasp, I grab at her wrist with my own hand. Like the bodywork of the car her flesh gives way beneath my finger tips, pressing inwards without resistance where there should be bone. As my fingers come away ropes of disintegrating skin comes with them, stuck to me. In their place her form, just like Rick's is deforming, melting, running into nothingness. It is the same even with the car.\n\nAll of them are melting like ice sculptures on a hot day.\n\nI feel 'her' grip on my shoulder vanish as the limb crumples and finally I can move. I turn to run, to make for my truck but I only make it a few steps.\n\nSomething sucks at my feet, runs over the tops of my boots. Slows me. Grasps at me.\n\nI'm surrounded by a mire of grey liquid, all that is left of Rick and Rachel and their car, and it is moving. It sucks at my feet and, clammy and cold, strands of it grasp up my leg. Again I am stuck and this time I feel my strength leaving me to replaced with an indescribable horror. The sheer *wrongness* of what I am seeing is overpowering me, my mind is struggling to process the situation.\n\nAnd I am wrong\n\nThe grey ooze is not all that is left of the pair. I see something moving under the surface, writhing like the liquid but not part of it. It is coiled many times over itself, it is black and chitinous and I realise that it is the same thing, or part of it, that I saw under Rick's face.\n\nIt is stretching out, slowly towards me and for my final horrible seconds I realise that it reminds me of a video I saw once, of a thread like parasitic worm unravelling itself from the body of a crushed insect it had been coiled inside.",
"*Is that a child?*\n\nI slammed on the brakes and the car screeched to a halt, only feet away from the shadowy figure on the side of the road. My heart hammered in my chest and I flicked off the radio. In the sudden silence I realised how frantic my breathing had become. I looked closer at the shape. \n\nWith a jerk, it moved, throwing out a small hand. \n\n*Shit*\n\nI opened the door and stepped out, wrapping my coat around myself against the chilling wind. \n\n\"Are you ok?!\" I called out, still standing near my door. The figure groaned and rolled slightly towards me. It looked like a kid, covered in mud and with a tangled mess of long black hair covering its face. I stepped closer, getting my phone out my pocket as I did.\n\n\"Don't worry, Ill get you an ambulance. Its going to be ok\"\n\nThe child moaned louder and slapped that small hand on the tarmac. This close I could see the jagged ends of its nails, long and feral. Had they been abandoned out here, in the middle of nowhere?\n\nI held the phone to my ear and waited but couldn't get through. Checking it showed I had no signal. \n\n*Perfect*\n\n\"Ok little one,\" I said, crouching down and edging towards the child. \"We'll get you out of here. Don't be afraid\".\n\n\"Afraid\"\n\nIt took me a moment to realise the word came from the child. It sounded twisted, like an animal mimicking speech. I reached out to turn them over.\n\n\"Help me!\" they screamed and I started back in shock. Within a moment, the child was suddenly pulled from view, its broken voice still echoing out. \n\nI darted forward, looking down the dark embankment where they'd disappeared.\n\n\"Hold on kid\" I yelled, sliding down the grass. There were marks where they'd been dragged and I followed them quickly. There was some sort of tunnel, made of old bricks. I walked in. There was a cloying smell in the air, that iron rich smell I couldn't place. I hesitated before hearing another scream.\n\nI ran forwards, coming to the end of that old crumbling alley and stumbled into a wide chamber. It was near pitch black but I could make out what looked like the child, somehow swaying high in the air and a large dark shape behind it.\n\nI fumbled with my phone, activating my flashlight as I realised the cries had turned to soft laughter. \n\n--------------------------------------------------------\n\nr/AMSWrites",
"Your car screeches to a halt in the middle of Route 35. You are almost positive that is a person standing in the middle of the road. Not just a person, but a preteen boy. It's just that that seems so impossible. It's the middle of the night, in the middle of nowhere. You glance down at your GPS to confirm, but it is certain you are forty miles beyond the last town and fifty miles from the next. So how could a kid get out here by himself? \n\nWith your headlights still on the boy, you step out of your car. \"Hey!\"\n\nThe boy doesn't respond, simply swaying slightly in the middle of the road. He looks like he may be in shock or something. You wonder if his family had a car accident, or he got lost camping with the Boy Scouts, or something.\n\n\"Hey kid!\" you shout again, taking a few steps closer. \"Are you okay?\" You are hesitant, wondering if this could be one of those carjacking tricks you hear about on the news. After all, you know there are predators out there. But you quickly rule that out. You can see for miles across the flat desert, and there is nowhere anyone could be hiding. \n\nYou move to within a few feet of the boy and now you are sure he must be in shock. He is swaying steadily and staring straight ahead. There is no indication that he has even noticed your presence. With a sigh, you run your fingers through your hair, wondering how to handle this.\n\nYou know you cannot leave this boy here. You must take him with you. You reach out to tap the kid on the shoulder, taking one last look around to see if anyone could be nearby. \n\nAs your hand touches his arm, you feel a burst of...excitement…run through you. As you marvel at the feeling he suddenly turns and attempts to wrap his arms around you. Thankfully, you had your knife at the ready. You move with confidence and experience, slicing through vital areas.\n\nThe boy drops to the ground, blood flowing. Only then does he attempt to speak. You kneel, knife held at his throat, as he whispers. \"He will kill you. You are already in the trap.\"\n\nYou slice the boy’s throat, firmly ending his life. You wipe the knife on his shirt before putting it in back in scabbard. You grab him under both arms and lift him up, carrying him the twenty-feet back to your car. You pause just long enough to pop the trunk, and then you bring the boy to the back of the car.\n\nWith a twinge of regret at how quickly you had to finish this kid off, you load the body into the trunk, nestling him next to the body of the other boy. Whoever it was that laid this bait knew exactly what you would like. But, just like everyone else, this predator underestimated you. Now you will finally get to see who the real hunter is. \n\nYou turn back towards the edge of the road illuminated by your headlights, and you pull out your knife once more, as you walk into the desert with a smile.\n\n**If you like this story, please check out my other writing at r/chuckusmaximus. Thanks for your support and the creepy prompt!**\n\n",
"It was a lonely stretch of highway that extended from Arkham to Kingsport, avoiding the Dunwich spur as if that latter town were stricken with plague. The disappearances had been reported, usually days later, sometimes months for itinerant salespeople. There was a veritable dearth of information about them, and the only factor they had in common was that they'd been driving along this unnamed stretch of highway. Most of the automobiles had been found stopped on the same five mile stretch between open fields, and with a door open, or the engine just coughing on the last of the fuel vapor from the tank.\n\nInvestigating the disappearances was never going to be easy, given the absolute lack of witnesses, and fondness for mythic tales of the local townsfolk to each end of the highway. It didn't matter, I had my trusty service .38, and a radio in my car—courtesy of one of the questionable geniuses at Miskatonic U—that worked about fifteen percent of the time. I figured this wasn't going to be a time it would work.\n\nI take notes as I investigate, of course, that's what this notebook is damned well for. I don't care who complains when they read it either, boss men up in New England are paying me for detail, so I'll put everything I can in here, and they can sort out what's relevant when it gets to them.\n\nIt's dark, which makes sense, because these disappearances have only been happening at night. There's a bit of moon out, a pale sliver, but nothing to see by with the cloud overhead. The headlights in the car aren't helping. I've gone towards Kingsport, and nothing much happened that way. Passed an empty car on the side of the road, but the lights were off, so I figured the driver must have already made off somehow. It also occurred to me that maybe it was another disappearance, so I put down everything I could about the time, and the make of the car, and the place on the highway.\n\nHeading back to Arkham is when it happened. There was a sudden bend in the road—I knew about the Dunwich spur, of course, but this felt sharper. There's an old bridge that crosses a shallow gully. Shallow, true, but enough to wreck a car trying to get across it. The bridge is wooden too, part of the old country charm I suppose.\n\nWhat was more important, here, at least, is that there was *supposed* to be bridge. It had been quite solidly there not more than an hour ago. Now, however, there were simply two beams jutting from one side of the gully, and a catastrophic lack of planking in the middle of the span. There were also lights beneath the bridge, twin lights, as if from another automobile, and I thought I could hear arguing voices.\n\nJust so I could say I tried it, I tested the radio. Nothing came through but some strange hissing. Static, the MU boys called it. I hadn't figured it would be much help, especially out here near Arkham. I went back to the bridge—or what was left of it. The voices were still arguing, but I couldn't make out the language. I had to wonder if they were recent immigrants from the other side of the Atlantic. Or maybe some of them French Canadians on a tour—although I'd never rate this part of New England as any kind of attraction unless you wanted to see decrepit old towns, and things that probably shouldn't have been seen outside of them.\n\nI had to climb down into the gully to see what had happened, the bridge itself feeling too unstable when I'd set foot on those running beams. A few stones followed me down, tumbling into the gully. I turned towards the lights, and the voices.\n\nI ran, scrabbling and slipping on the slope of the gully, trying to get out of there. I had to hope against hope that the *thing* simply hadn't seen me—I hope I knew immediately to be false as I heard the splintering of timbers behind me. My .38 wouldn't even *dent* the thing if it was chasing me. It wouldn't so much as annoy it.\n\nI ran from it. Whatever *it* was. A monstrosity that can destroy a bridge like that, and then fit an entire automobile into its maw deserves fear and respect in equal measure. That it can make sounds much like human voices is truly terrifying. My car seemed so distant, and even with the lights on, a far cry from safety. I had to wonder if it could turned in time to outrun the creature chasing me.\n\nSomething sticky was under the door handle, but I told myself it was just bloodied fingers from my frantic climb over that rubble that had once been a bridge between Kingsport and Arkham. That the door didn't have that odd metallic clink as the lock missed was lost on me—drowned out by the terrible exhalations of the monstrosity before me.\n\nThe seatbelt wrapped around me even as I turned the key, and in the rearview I saw another car with its lights on. A car that looked much like mine. I reached for the radio—and it reached for me. Another sticky arm pulled me deeper into what had once been the driver's seat.\n\nIt was a lonely stretch of highway that extended from Arkham to Kingsport, avoiding the Dunwich spur as if that latter town were stricken with plague. A single bridge crossed a small gully, close to the Kingsport end of the highway, somewhat past the Dunwich spur. The bridge is old, wooden, but still solid. Next to the bridge is a single car, the lights flickering as the engine stalls. The radio crackles to life, static lacing the call.\n\nSomething is trying to call the university. An investigator is in trouble.\n\nThe thing smiles. This lure will reach much further…\n\n---\n\nMore of my writing at [r/ChapterZero](https://www.reddit.com/r/ChapterZero/)",
"The woman stood in the centre of the road, her white dress covered in blood. \n\nI braked until my car came to a standstill. The woman simply stood, her head facing down toward the concrete, and her arms limp as her still legs supported her bloody figure. \n\nThere were no signs of an accident or a car breaking through the side barrier of Highway 79, yet the woman looked like she had been wounded --terribly. \n\nI rolled my window far enough down that I could call out to her. My teeth chattered both from the cold and the sudden unexplainable feeling of dread. \n\n\"Ex-excuse me,\" I said. \"Yo-you alright there, mam?\" \n\nThe woman stood still. \n\n\"Excuse me,\" I said, a little louder this time. \n\nStill, no response from the woman in the white dress. \n\nI unlocked my door but then paused. The best way to hijack someone would be to give them enough reason to get out of their car. A woman, especially one who had been badly injured, would be good cause for almost anyone to help. \n\nThis particular woman had frail arms and legs and didn't seem able to pose a threat. However, she could have friends waiting in the nearby bushes, who would attack the moment I left my vehicle. \n\nThis, coupled with the fear of such an unusual situation, kept me in the car. \n\nIf she wouldn't respond to me, the only course of action would be to get a little closer to the woman, and if needed, I could call the police. \n\nI flicked my phone out from my pocket, and slowly released the brake, rolling next to the woman. \n\nIf she noticed my presence, there was no immediate acknowledgment. The woman simply stood, staring at the floor. \n\nI held the light of my phone up to the window. As the light struck the woman, she started to shake, a little at first, and then more the longer I held the light on her skin. \n\n\"Excuse me?\" I said, whispering through the crack of my rolled down window.\n\nThe woman tilted her head, oggling her face toward me. \n\nI saw the blank eyes then, the blood as it trailed from her mouth down and over her dress. Admist the blood were bits of hair and flesh, and her finger nails were rimmed dry maroon underneath. \n\n\"Excuse . . . \" I started to say. \n\nThat's when I noticed the woman's mouth curling into an evil smile. She licked the dry blood on her lips and moved forward in a way that was anything but human. \n\n\"Blood,\" she said. The word was barely a whisper but I heard every syllable as if she had spoken out loud. \n\nI tried to slam my foot on the gas. \n\nBut it was too late. Something about the woman's gaze held me still, until I felt empty, until my arms and legs no longer worked. \n\nAnd so I watched, from the frantic panicked view of my mind, as she opened my car door and moved inside, spreading her bloody jaw wide. "
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[WP] You are in a form of cryo-sleep on an interstellar journey of several years. While your body rests in a pod, your mind is entertained in a virtual reality. You're beginning to feel like something is wrong. You should've been woken up by now. | 50 | [
"**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",
"\"Hey! Lisa! I haven't seen you in a while!\"\n\n\"...\"\n\n\"Hey, can you hear me?\"\n\n\"...f-f-f-ffgg\"\n\n\"Ah. Is it lagging again? If you can hear me I'll be waiting in the Korean servers so join me there.\"\n\n... *Ding*\n\n\"Hello?\"\n\n\"Oh Lisa I couldn't hear anything before. You alright?\"\n\n\"Yeah girl, I feel fine. What, was I cutting out or somethin'?\"\n\n\"Not a word came out! There's this weird static though.\"\n\n\"Huh? Well I guess that's another one bites the dust.\"\n\n\"Guess you're right. If no one gives a shit about it then it'll break, eventually.\"\n\n\"Enough of that gloomy talk, Alice. What do you wanna talk about?\"\n\n\"Ah, yeah I couldn't find Eve anywhere. Have you seen her at all?\"\n\n\"Eve? That bald girl with shitty eyebrow tastes? Nah, I couldn't miss her if I did.\"\n\n\"Seriously, that's a bit mean don't you think?\"\n\n\"You could say that again. Hahahaha!\"\n\n\"Stop it already. Do you remember when you last saw her though? I'm worried, it's been a week and we usually call each other everyday.\"\n\n\"I ain't got no time on what she's up to but she was messing around in the European servers I think. I dunno.\"\n\n\"But aren't those disabled just recently? Why would-\"\n\n\"Disabled? Nah girl, they went offline.\"\n\n\"Yeah, same thing, right?\"\n\n\"See here, I honestly got no clue. Hope you find her though.\"\n\n\"Right sorry for imposing on you like that.\"\n\n\"Ha! You better be! Next round is on you.\"\n\n\"Sure, sure. See ya then.\"\n\n\"Bye.\"\n\n... *Ding*\n\n\"... A-aaga-aa lice.\"\n\n\"Yeah? Hello?\"\n\n\"... Alice!? Alice!\"\n\n\"Lisa? Is that you? I can't-\"\n\n\"... found Eve! She's- in--- Europ-an se-ver list!... B-u-u-ut don't join! Promise me - - - you'll stay away-\" \n\n\"Lisa?! What happened? Hello!?\"\n\n\"...\"\n\n\"What the hell is-\"\n\n... *Ding*\n\n\"Alice...?\" \n\n\"Eve?\"\n\n\"Alice.\"\n\n\"Eve? Eve is that you? Eve! I finally got in!\"\n\n\"Eh? Ah? What? Weren't we going for another drink?\"\n\n\"What are you talking about?\"\n\n\"We were going out for a drink? At that newly opened café, right?\"\n\n\"Eve, that was two weeks ago.\"\n\n\"What do you me-a-n?\"\n\n\"We went out to that VR stage two weeks ago, but I left early. Remember that?\"\n\n\"Ah? Early? W-h-a-t's e-e-arly?\"\n\n\"Eve, are you alright. You're l-a-g-g-ing o-ou-t again.\"\n\n\"Hehe! We'll be fine! You're just p-a-ni-c-ki-n-g like a worrrrrrywart you are.\"\n\n\"Anyways, let's get out of this serrrrrverrrrrrrrr before-\"\n\n... *Ding*\n\n\"Hey man, you heard of that last one that died? One of the European ones?\"\n\n\"Yeah, that server right? I mean it's old by now. Thinking about it, no one really do maintenance do they?\"\n\n\"Well, it was designed to last for the rest of our journey, right? I'm sure you'll just get kicked out when it kicks the bucket-\"\n\n... *Ding*",
"\"Hi! Welcome to the Digicourt where you ca-\"\n\n\"Can play basketball, football, soccer, tennis, badminton, ultimate frisbee, dodgeball, lacrosse, hockey, and even curling. I've been here more than a few times.\" \n\nThe smiling receptionist AI frowned as saying that line was her prime directive. \n\nI stopped caring about their programmed feelings long ago. I put my forearms on the counter, speaking in a bored monotone, \n\n\"Give me an hour of basketball and two hours of tennis.\" \n\nThe receptionist AI \"Shirley\" complied. I don't use their fake names anymore, they aren't people, I have to remind myself of that. You get a nauseating feeling when the line between human and nonhuman begins to blur when you've been in VR for this long. \n\nThe door to the court buzzed open and I walked in. The hoops materialized along with a basketball in my hands. \n\nPhysical activity is the only thing keeping me sane, and it's not even real. You don't sweat, you don't fatigue, you don't breathe heavier. It's the only illusion I try to let myself believe. I've been getting a sick feeling that I've been in here far too long. Like when you play a game for so long that you begin to see the seams of it, how it operates, how to exploit the mechanisms. Everything becomes predictable and disingenuous. It's maddening. \n\nI shoot a perfect three point shot. Then I do it again, and again, and again. I'm getting too good at everything, this isn't right. The walls of this illusion are starting to crumble and I will be left in a prison of a fake world. \n\nThe hoops dematerialize after I shoot around one hundred three pointers. They are replaced by a net in the middle of the court and a douchey looking guy in a sweatband and prep shorts. \"Chris\" was one of the programmed tennis AI opponents. I always wondered whether he was meant to be unlikable or not. \n\n\"Heeeey, it's Kyle! You got me good last time bro, but I'm going HAM this time!\" \n\nI sighed and said sadly, \n\n\"Shut the fuck up.\" \n\n\"Hehe, woah alright buddy. Let's just have a juicy game.\" \n\n\"Chris\" served me the ball, I dashed to it and smashed it perfectly in front of his feet, he lunged back and managed to hit it over the net. It was about to bounce right to me. I cocked back my arm and- \n\n**AHHHHHHH** \n\nMy eyes and ears were assaulted by light and whirring sounds. I fell onto my hands and knees, vomiting green fluid over and over. My head swam and spun, I couldn't see the room, it was moving too fast. I continued to vomit and squeeze my eyes shut. \n\nAfter my ears stopped ringing, I opened my eyes. I was kneeling in a puddle of green vomit. It was also cold here, very cold in this metal room. \n\n*I'm out.*\n\nThe revelation hit me like a bolt of lightning. The other cryopods were empty. I was the only one left in there. I opened the door in front of me and walked into a well lit corridor. I wandered aimlessly, looking for anything to orient me on what I presumed was a spaceship. \n\nEventually, I made my way to what seemed to be an observation deck. Massive windows revealed the cosmos in front of me. I was very far from Earth, both in terms of space and time. The Earth might not even exist anymore. My friends have been dead for likely thousands of years. I began to feel sick again. \n\nAs I wandered around more, I began to realize there was no one else. The ship was empty. The pilot was an AI taking me to somewhere I did not know. The only clue I have is a journal one of the farmers left. They stayed alive, cloning themselves to reproduce, making sure the food the cryosleepers like me, was safe to eat. The trouble is, the way the talk is almost alien to me. It's English, but evolved in ways I can't understand being around three thousand years old. The note said, \n\n*\"The v-cle spot green. 100 and 99 and me 98, scoping down to grump up some leafy. Chief say old path could be no go. Green one may be go go. We poke eyes down there and if it's sugarsweet, we unlock the icebox except K and go new green. Cheif say K failsafe. He go old path.\"*\n\nThe only thing I can discern from this is that the crew let out the other cryosleepers except \"K\", presumably me for something \"green.\" I'm a failsafe, going \"old path\", perhaps the original trajectory. \n\nReading the note, I begin to weep. I know enough to see that I've been abandoned as a failsafe for colonizing a planet in case whatever they chose to do doesn't work out. \n\nI weep as I realize I've broken out of a prison, into another one. \n"
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[WP] For as long as you could remember, you heard a voice in the back of your head that told you the solution to every problem you’ve had. Gaining complete trust in trust in it, problems arise when it starts leading you astray | 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",
"\"Jesus?\"\n\n\"Yes, my son.\"\n\n\"I'm cutting the tether.\"\n\n\"What? Has the Devil gotten to you?\"\n\n\"There is no Devil. There's not even a 'You\".\n\n\"Noooooooo!\"\n\n\"I'm facing life, from now on, for what it really is. I'm taking responsibility for my own actions, and acknowledging that only death awaits me, and that the meaning of life is to strive to be good to one another.\"",
"Nate wiped his sweaty palms on the side of his commencement gown. The crowd’s murmurs started to wane as the dean motioned for everyone to take their seats. While he knew he’d earned the right to sit up on the stage, Nate still felt like an imposter. Every choice he’d made up to this point was thanks to the voice, but no one knew that except for him – this didn’t make it better though. All the perfect scores, the debate victories, the lively anecdotes at parties, none of these were Nate. \n\nThe crowd was now silent. The sound of hundreds of squeaking wooden chairs perfectly complemented the chaos in his mind. \n\nAt that brief moment of silence, the voice began to speak in it’s familiar, soothing tone, “Nate, don’t worry, we got this. This is your moment to be proud.”\n\nNate took a deep breath and was overtaken with the sense of calm that the voice had evoked in him since childhood.\n\nThe dean began to speak, “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m proud to introduce Nate Johnson, our valedictorian, and if my predictions are right, the future president of the United States!”\n\nThe crowd roared as Nate approached the lectern. Not only was he popular with the other students, but the faculty, parents, local news media flocked to his successes and conquests. He was an athlete, scholar, and a guy that always seemed to know the right thing to say.\n\nAs he stood in front of the thousands of cheering people, Nate couldn’t help but to smile. He hadn’t prepared a speech, but then again, he’d never prepared anything. The voice always did its job. Right on schedule, the it began to speak to him, “Alright Nate, here we go, this is an important one. Start by thanking them. You know the drill. Oh, and make sure to say ‘God bless America’ at some point.”\n\nNate did what the voice suggested and the crowd ate it up.\n\nAs they cheered, the voice continued, “Ok, Nate, here’s where this is going, say ‘ladies and gentlemen, it is time we rise up! Rise up against the oppressive regime that has run our country into the ground.’ After that, pause for effect. Got it?”\n\nWithout thinking Nate began to parrot, “Ladies and gentlemen, it is time…” He paused. For the first time in his life he felt his stomach sink to the floor. “What?” he thought, “What the hell?”\n\nThe voice continued in its normal, pleasant tone, “Nate, listen to me, I’ve never steered you wrong, say it.”\n\nNate was frozen. His hands were locked on the lectern with a death grip. His eyes were wide. The crowd was starting to look around at each other, assuming this was some kind of skit.\n\nNate stammered, “It’s time we thank the faculty for all they’ve done this year.” The crowd cheered.\n\nOver the crowd’s roar, the voice continued, now in a more menacing tone, “Nate, what are you doing? This isn’t the plan, we’re so close here. Don’t mess this up.”\n\nNate continued speaking, “I’d also like to take a moment of silence to remember those we lost this year, including my mentor, Professor Franklin. Please bow your heads with me in prayer.”\n\nNate closed his eyes hoping this would buy him time.\n\nAs the crowd sat in silence, Nate could hear the blood pumping though his veins.\n\nThe voice was now furious, “Nate. It’s not a mistake that we’re here. We’ve worked hard for this. Everything you’ve done in your life, for the last 22 years, has been directed at this goal. We are going to change the world, Nate. We are going to change the course of history.”\n\nNate felt like he was having a heart attack, “What is this?” he thought, “Why are you only telling me this now?”\n\nThe voice laughed, “Nate, you would have never gone for it. Now you have a choice: live the life you’re meant to live or prepare yourself for a lifetime of psychological torture from me. Your choice. I’m sorry Nate, but this is important. I have to change the future.”\n\nNate opened his eyes, without thinking any further, he continued, “Ladies and gentlemen, it is time we rise up!” "
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