Split (1)

train · 265k rows

post_text stringlengths 0 17.5k	post_title stringlengths 4 315	post_scores int64 0 42.1k	comment_texts list	comment_scores list	comment_times list
[removed]	[WP] "Why the fuck not!" "Because fighting a demon with your bear hands might not be the best idea?"	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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "Hi u/johixxx, this submission has been removed.\n\n[Direct prompt replies must be good-faith attempts at new stories or poems](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_1.3A_direct_prompt_replies_must_be_good-faith_attempts_at_new_stories_or_poems)\n\n- Fill-in-the-blank: Responses must be at least 100 words. 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 Prompts will be removed if there's a high possibility for rule breaking responses ([rule 7](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_7.3A_prompts_will_be_removed_if_there.27s_a_high_possibility_for_rule_breaking_responses))\n\n\n\n---\n\n[Modmail](https://www.reddit.com/message/compose?to=%2Fr%2FWritingPrompts&subject=Removed%20post&message=https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/a5ltu0/-/%0A%0A) us if you have any questions or concerns. In the future, please refer to the [sidebar](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/about/sidebar) before posting. \n\nThis action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things." ]	[ 1, 2 ]	[ "1544645570", "1544645619" ]
	[WP] You're a vampire who joined the police. All was well, until you joined SWAT, who are required to enter houses uninvited regularly. However, nobody told you this before your first assignment.	168	[ "Off-Topic Discussion: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfill every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "His eyes widened looking at the hinges of the average looking door. They were old. Very old. He could hear the distant chatter of the rest of the team as they began getting into formation. He hadn’t exactly trained for this part of the job, but moving from the force to SWAT, he didn’t think there’d be much of a difference. This was different. They were moving too fast. Everything was happening at a speed he just wasn’t accustomed to. The adrenaline was there but it was off. But that wasn’t his problem. He had a bigger problem than being uncomfortable at his new job. \n\nHis eyes shifted as a hand made contact with the tactical armor that was covering his shoulder. He didn’t flinch but it did make him hesitant to answer the question. \n\n“Are you alright? First time?” \n\nHe nodded and turned back to face the door. The door. He shook his head. He knew exactly what was about to go down. The way they were stationed made it seem they weren’t exactly about to ask for an invitation. An invitation he desperately needed to apparently do this job. If he would’ve known he would have never applied. He shook his head again and tightened the grip on his weapon. He had no idea what he was going to do, he thought about asking to be put into the back of the formation but it was too late. The last of the men had arrived and that was it. \n\nSo he listened. He could hear the rapid heartbeat move closer to the other side of the door. All their heartbeats were going a million beats a minute but he forced himself to focus on the one. He was motioned to move forward but he stopped. The heartbeat, it began to slow down. With a confused lookhe faced the others, confused looks also on their faces. Why did he stop, they all probably thought. He realizes that the man had also stopped screaming and so they began waiting; but waiting for what? \n\nBANG\n\n“O’Leary!”\n\nThe door swung open and before he could lift his weapon another bang rang across his ears. And then he smelt blood. His ears rang for a few more seconds before they all began to move in. “The suspect is down.” He hears multiple times. He steps through the doorway with a sigh of relief. Everyone laughs for a quick second as to say they felt the same way before splitting up to check the rest of the house. But he knew that that wasn’t exactly the case with the sound that came out of his mouth. If this man, this lunatic, was just a bit more sane, he would have been exposed immediately. He’d been lucky if he had a job at all after this. This was his last shot at a normal life. But thankfully the guy was nuts. After all, when the only person who can invite you in is in fact very much dead, it makes things a lot more easier on his vampire soul. But he’s definitely going to be looking into a transfer. \n\n(A quick write from me in between classes. So sorry for any mistakes. I loved the prompt and couldn’t resist.) " ]	[ 1, 29 ]	[ "1544658578", "1544678068" ]
	[WP] To the public, you are known as the Healer. But the people close to you call you Agony, an immortal being who has the ability to transfer diseases from other people into themselves. If only your immortality would also stop you from feeling the pain.	14	[ "Off-Topic Discussion: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfill every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", " If she thought long and hard, she could remember the name she once had. That at least she hadn’t lost. How long had it been now? Seven hundred, no, she corrected herself, nine hundred and fifty odd years. So much time blending together, entire years have fallen away from her memory. She could remember a name, but a childhood, a time before healing, these were things lost to her.\n\nShe did remember the first time she “healed” someone. When this time period was in the mass of years behind her, she didn’t know, only that it was a long, long time ago. It had been a person she cared for, a woman, a friend. She had grown very ill and would have soon die from her ailment. She remembered a desperate feeling, anxiety she couldn’t shake off. Then, embracing her friend, her skin contacted her dying friend’s. She wanted to draw out the sickness inside her friend, she needed too. It was at that point immeasurable pain pierced her skull, her body felt like she was being stabbed all over, again and again. Her lungs began to burn, her chest began to ache, and her bowels relived themselves all at once. It was traumatic on every level. She didn’t remember what happened after and she was sure she didn’t want to, but she did remember the immense happiness she felt when her friend was able to recover from the illness.\n\n“Healer! Healer!” A cry rang through the village as a young messenger boy searched for her. She sighed mopping her feverish brow with a damp cloth and righted her full red skirts. \n\n“Agony?” Sister’s voice rang clearly into the room before the girl pulled back the red curtain and stepping up to her bed. Agony she may be, but she was well compensated for her trials and pain. Most in the village slept on mats on the floor of the huts, but years ago a proper and beautiful bed was fashioned for her, made from the sturdy Albecca tree. Its beautiful golden wood was shined and oiled regularly. A tender smile played on her lips, her bed was one of her few luxuries on this hot and humid jungle planet.\n\nShe frowned, another mystery. She did not know how she knew this entire world and a jungle planet, with three bright green oceans. It was just something she knew. There was so much she forgot until pieces of it was remembered from time to time. She did know that no one else on this planet seemed to know the things she knew. Many of the villagers in this tribe had never seem the ocean, much less knew it was a bright and vibrant green. \n\nShe shook her head, the full red skirts about her waist rustling. None of it mattered. She simply wafted from one dying person to another, on immense pain to another. That was her life, it has been her life for hundreds of years now. Nothing else mattered. “I’m coming sister.”\n\nTime seemed to blur again for Agony. She was in the village square, down on her knees in the mud, her arms tangled around a small tiny figure of a girl who had been thrust into her arms by a sobbing mother. The girl had blood dripping from her eyes, nose and ears. The moment she touched the Healer though the bleeding stopped. Agony now gasped in pain as it was exploding from her skull, her eyes blurred red with blood, she tasted copper and her ears rang. Part of her mind was detached enough to also feel frustrated. She hated this virus the most. It was messy, her blood boiled from it and her organs always seemed to melt just a tiny bit before they began a slow healing. How she knew this she wasn’t sure, but she knew the pain.\n\nThe tiny girl gasped, her heart beat picking up, her skin pallor returning to normal. The mother’s sobs grew louder as she removed the Healers arms from her child. Agony barely felt the woman through the haze of pain the virus gave her. The village all backed to a respectful distance from her while she lay sprayed in the mud, the rain beginning to fall harder. They started up the chant, she supposed they thought this helped her get over the pain faster, but it didn’t. all she cared about was that they left her alone for this part. She could hear Sister calling out for everyone to get further back away from her, letting her family now take the task of caring for her.\n\nThis was not the same Sister as before when her mind last grew thoughtful, she knew that, that Sister had grown old and died. Agony could remember a time when she tried to remember each great, great, great niece or nephew or cousin; but over time it grew to exhausting. They became Sister, or Brother, or Cousin always something she could remember. Somehow, they were able to keep track of who was who, but she couldn’t. \n\nThe pain began to dull, she wasn’t sure how many hours later it was or if it was days later. It was still raining though, and the sky was cloudy and a soft light grey above her. The clouds captured her attention and helped distract her from the pain. There seemed to be a bright spot in the grey. Rain dripped into her lashes, but she was too distracted. The bright spot turned into a line slowly drawing closer. She twisted her head, following the line, matting her hair further into the mud. Suddenly the air erupted in a sonic boom, the backlash of a deceleration of a ship. How did she know that?\n\nIn the background she heard the villagers screaming in terror. They didn’t understand what the bright metallic object falling through the clouds was. Somehow, she did though. She watched as the medium class pod ship, she knew that little ship, no matter how big it looked, was actually attached to a larger ship that was too big for an atmospheric planetary entry. Her head turned in the mud, following the ship as it made to land in the grain field next the village. The landing treads unlocked from the bottom of the ship and as they touched the muddy ground they sank into the wet and damp dirt. Jungle trees surrounding the field bent outward from around the ship like a halo. She crossed her eyes a moment, her foggy and pain filled brain trying hard to catch up with the events happening around her. \n\n(Continued)" ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1544661917", "1544681156" ]
	[WP] Due to a misunderstanding at Corporate, the Angel of Deaf has been assigned Grim Reaper duties	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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "Nobody ever bothered to learn sign language. We've been around for much longer than the humans, how haven't we adopted what only took them a few hundred years? Only a few of my family, friends and some fellow worker angels had bothered to learn it for me, and I wouldn't be seeing them for a while with this new job and all. And on that note, why doesn't god just cure us angels that were born this way? It's just ridiculous.\n\nI was a little bit nervous about starting this new job, it was pretty unheard of for angels to switch departments unless they had a good reason, and even then god was a bit of a dick about it. I enjoyed looking over those who shared my ailment, nudging them slightly left when they didn't hear the car getting close behind them, letting their phones vibrate that much harder when they needed to wake up for an important meeting. On my creation day and everything, why did it Anyway, that was a thing of the past, onto new adventures.\n\nGliding towards what struck me as a dark building, ready for the difficulty of having to write down that I was deaf on paper and allowing people to learn my nuances from the start. Gliding through the door, the unicorns at the front desk smiled and started to speak, I could hear nothing obviously. I pointed to my ear and smiled on the outside, while being annoyed inside that this would be a regular occurrence for a while.\n\nI walked up to them and wrote down on my trusty notepad \"I'm Frey, the Angel of Deaf, here for a new assignment\". For a second there was a look of blank shock from the unicorn, and then her mind caught up with her and she looked up and smiled and starting typing on her ridiculously large keyboard. She turned the screen with her hoof towards me and it read \"Thanks Frey. You can find your new office and uniform on Level 2\". I smiled back at her as she pointed towards the flight path, I could feel her laughing at me as I walked away... what was happening?\n\nFlying up the shaft of the flight path I swooped into the second level and there stood a single door 'Angel of Death'. This must be a mistake? Walking into the room I saw a box with a dark cloak inside, with a letter, addressed to 'Frey' and another door. No. No, this can't be. I've heard of people having to spend a few millennia meeting those who had to pass over into Heaven, or mainly hell if I'm being honest, humans are idiots. I pick up the cloak with shaking hands and shrink into it head first. How would this even work? Isn't Death meant to comfort those who are taking the passage into their unknown? I guess I wouldn't be able to hear their cries...\n\nI walk into the next door, expecting to find what I could only assume would be my scythe and list of poor mortals and BOOM. Lights flashing, balloons everywhere, my family, friends and work buddies were standing there with signs saying 'Happy 4 Trillinth Creation Day!', \"We're kidding!\".\n\nThey hadn't forgotten! This had been a very, very bad joke." ]	[ 1, 2 ]	[ "1544662807", "1544666514" ]
	[WP] Grabbing a towel to clean your hands, you find there is blood on it. How odd, you haven't wiped your hands on it yet.	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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "\"hey, did you already use this rag?\" I ask, not looking up from the work bench. \n\n\"Ya, sorry. I had to answer a text and didn't want to get blood on my phone.\" Sophia answered with a grunt. She's struggling with the neck. Removing the head is a hard part. Normally I'd saw through with my sawzall but I'd neglected to bring it all the way out to our remote cabin. \n\n\"It's fine. Answering texts. Jeez. You kids and your tech dependence.\" I snorted. I could hear the eye roll without even turning around. I was more of a smartphone junkie than she'd ever be. Her mom had made me switch from my flip phone when Sophia was born. Ever since I have that stupid thing glued to my face half the day. But not this weekend. Not my baby's first kill. \"I'm really proud of you. I want you to know that Sophia. Its not easy doing this. But it's important, and it's a tradition that I'm proud to pass on to you.\" I had to smile at the way she lit up. \n\n\"God you big pussy you'd think we were rebuilding a car or something. After all the practice at the range, and on small animals, this monster target was like hitting the broad side of a barn.\" She teased. I chuckled and shook my head. \n\n\"Killing ain't easy. And it shouldn't be. But this guy died so you could live. He died clean. Single shot to the heart just like I taught you. He didn't suffer, or feel much pain. You took him down clean, and now, we clean it up\" I smiled, grabbing the boning knife and setting to work on the shoulder. It would take a while to break down well, but it was important to take care in this portion. To waste anything of such an important kill was sinful. I heard the door to the garage open up and looked up at my wife with a smile. \n\n\"Wow. He's a big boy isn't he?\" She asked with a beaming grin. She was nearly as proud as me. Sophia was practically glowing. \n\n\"Yup. A freezer full for sure\" I chuckle, pulling out the Ziploc bags and butchers paper. \n\n\"My first elk. Can't believe I got one this big. The guys at school are gonna be pissed!\" Sophia laughed, gesturing to the creature's massive antlers. Butchering is bloody work. But it's all worthwhile in the end. " ]	[ 1, 2 ]	[ "1544683307", "1544692126" ]
	[WP] In most of the galaxy adrenaline is a dangerous and highly illegal drug. Humans are an oddity in that we produce it naturally in our bodies.	99	[ "Off-Topic Discussion: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfill every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "The ship's engines growled beneath me as I slumped against an unused supply crate. Just where the hell am I? I remembered some sort of announcement over the radio. When I looked outside it was if someone had pulled a thick blanket over the stars. Shadows crept through the sky like a silent dream and before I knew it the ground rushed up to meet me. I tried to remember what happened afterwards but a flash of pain shot through my head and my knees began to buckle. Whoever, or whatever took me sure as hell wanted to stay hidden. In any case, the only thing that mattered now was finding Emily. I prayed to God that she was still safe... God damn it. She's just a kid.\n\nI rounded the corner and kept low. The air was stale and I could barely breathe for all the fumes rising from the nearby vents. The mechanical grumble below pounded in my ears as I continued, but thankfully anything coming my way wouldn't be able to hear my footsteps.\n\n\"There's still one human not accounted for.\"\n\nI crouched against the wall and kept quiet. The voice came from the next corner but I couldn't quite make out the figure. From a distance it may have even looked human, though the creature was much taller than anyone I'd seen before.\n\n\"The transmat beam wasn't calibrated,\" spoke another creature who was standing out of sight, \"we've already sent out a full search crew. If he's here, we'll find him.\"\n\nAfter a short pause the two creatures parted ways. I hung back for a moment then continued along the corridor. A fresh breeze wiped the stale smells from my face as I entered the next room—it was nearly pitch-dark now and with each step it felt as if I was moving deeper into the bowels of the ship. I clutched my chest as I struggled to see beyond the seemingly solid black walls surrounding me.\n\n\"At this rate I'll never find— \"\n\nI took another step forward and the ship lit up as if in response. That's when I saw it. Countless tanks lined the chamber each connected to a vast array of medical instruments. The distant roar of the engines had now been replaced with the incessant beeping of monitors. God... It can't be. \n\nI wiped the grime from one of the tanks and jerked back in horror. There was no mistaking it. She might have been hooked up to a number of tubes and electronic devices, but it was definitely Emily. \n\nJesus Christ...\n\nI reflexively clasped my throat and examined the rest of the room. At first I thought they were stasis pods of some sort, but the reality didn't set in until I uncovered one of the nearby computers. Most of text was written in hieroglyphs, but I could faintly make out the words \"Adrenaline levels stable\". That's when it hit me. These weren't stasis pods. No, this was a farm.", "Galactica Encyclopedia\n\nGenus: (Homo)\n\nSpecies: (Sapien)\n\n1 result\n\n\"Yo Jib-Jab\" \"What?\" \"I read the other day on reddit that theres these species of 'sentient bald apes in the \\[redacted\\] solar system' that produce adrenaline naturally\" \"Cool\" a third male enters.\"Yo whats up (racial explicative)'s\" \"(Paul) just said that theres some species that produces adrenaline naturally\" \"Oh shit man, we should go over there its not far, maybe we could harvest the adrenaline somehow, or just laugh at them constantly tripping out\" \"Yeah okay\" \"Uh... sure I got nothing better to do\" The trio take a(n) (Uber) to the train station and get a train to the closest stop where they then pick up a for-rent-ship and take off. \"Yo (Paul) do you think that they might be aggressive because of the adrenaline?\" \"Their a completely undocumented species, they're believed to be entering the (Age of the Internet) based on activity signals, handguns should be fine.\" These were the recordings from (Pauls) home, under (FBI) surveillance, and the rental car, along with sequences filled in, henceafter is deduced from the site of the incident. The trio land \\~150 meters away from a home. They walk towards the home where midway through one is shot non-lethally in the (\\shoulder), Then a barrage of shots from a predicted two attackers massacred the men. (Homo Sapiens) have been classified as Highly Aggressive and have been avoided from then on.\n\n*This has been translated into your native language and dialect ( American-English), \\ denotes rough translation of idioms, biological differences ect. report to Galactica Encyclopedia for a better answer.**\n\nMy fun homage to Douglas Adams \"A Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy\". Also is it just me or is half of writing prompts ,popular posts science fiction? Thanks-r/whynotfriendme", "The translation came through clearly from my voder: 'Is that a real one, mum?'\n\nI glanced to the left. It was a juvenile Thraxtl, not a native. Its mother said something about 'strong and dangerous'. On Earth, gravity was heavier than most inhabited planets, so we had a reputation already.\n\n'Is he an addict, then?' The kid had no sense of tact at all. Some things are invariable between species.\n\nI turned my head towards the youngster. It was still in its wingless larval form, a burden to its mother even in Noth gravity. My air-mask must have looked a bit intimidating, because it writhed and looped itself around its mother. I quickly turned and walked away. I didn't want trouble.\n\nHumans are in a strange position in the Federation. We're the newbies, the latest discovered species, but we're also liquid water-based (minority), evolved on a rocky planet (not a minority) and communicate by sound (which is unusual). We also produce dreechy, as they call it here, which we know as adrenaline. It's the most addictive, borderline toxic substance known to carbon-based life (which is most of them), and fetches a ridiculous price on the black market. I've known women who sold a half-litre of their own blood and went on an interstellar cruise with the proceeds! For some reason there's a belief that females have more of the stuff. Those huge behemoths from Shchuchan, where the water is all liquid methane, can trip on frozen human blood for days on end!\n\n'Harmonious greetings!' The hail must have come from the mottled black, upright-starfish-like thing in front of me. 'I hope you are well?'\n\n'I am,' I replied cautiously. I didn't think these voders could convey meaning in tones, or at least not yet. Not these cheap ones.\n\n'Are you an egg-layer?'\n\n'No,' I replied. What was this about?\n\n'I think you are! Grab it!' And immediately I was grabbed from behind. I felt a thud in my breastplate, a kevlar waistcoat that was standard issue for all humans travelling to Noth cities. The thing was trying to stab a needle into my kidneys! I lashed out sideways and back with my right arm, connecting with something soft and clammy. I whipped around, grabbing a fistful of my assailant. There was a terrible noise, both on my voder and in my ears. The thing was screaming! Without even noticing, I had torn a chunk off the starfish that had tried to stab me! Black blood oozed and vapourised from the fragment.\n\n'RUN! The thing bellowed. 'It's gone mad, it'll kill us all!'\n\nThere was pandemonium. Every sentient being within earshot (along with any pets they had) took off as fast as their physiology allowed. It wasn't very fast, if I was bent on murder I could have caught and killed most of them.\n\nBut, I wasn't. I just stood there, bewildered, not knowing whether to stay or go. The police, heavily armed and armoured Nothese, were there in moments. I was arrested, questioned for hours, and released without charge at the end of the day.\n\nOf course, I missed the meeting. Simon had to smooth things over with the suppliers, and I didn't make it through my probationary period. So, that was the story of my brief first job off-world.", "The sky turned black with alien crafts. They shifted like clouds in lazy formations, and the people of Earth responded by gawking from their windows. It had taken two weeks from the start of Liam Brent's business venture to start of an intergalactic incident. \n\nEvery news channel in the world had a live feed of the same hulking fleet. Scrolling text and news anchors speculated about the invader's purpose. Liam Brent was the common theme. \n\n-It is believed that the vast number of ships is a show of force. Analysts are working on identifying the crafts, but early reports believe them to be of the Stargonic Police Force. This may be the incident we need for the government to tackle business' manoeuvring the slow lawmaking process.\n\nPeople had wanted* to believe that the invasion was about law and order. That Liam Brent's intergalactic adrenaline business had upset an all-powerful galactic body - and it had, but not a lawful one. \n\nThe cocktail of a highly illegal substance that until recently had been impossible to produce, and an Earth seller claiming to have an abundance, mixed to create a drink that comes with a guaranteed cough, and pause when drinking - is this good for me?\n\nA messenger craft detached from the main body and ignoring the Earth's feeble defences. It dived straight to Liam Brent's mountain home and compounded the initial speculation of a regulatory force. The craft had barely touched the ground when it returned to the horde, and Brent's security detail reported him abducted. \n\nThe absurdly wealthy intergalactic drug dealer had been picked from the planet like a scab, and even his family struggled to mourn the loss - having by default inherited his wealth. \n\nA fringe group labelled conspiracy theorists believed the show of force had been about more than justice. Hours after Brent's abduction, their crazy theories became a reality.\n\n An exert from Damien L's social media feed one hour after the alien force's arrival (14/12/29 10:32:22):\n\nThey have come to farm us. We are too naive as a species to trade with the big vast galaxy. Our production of adrenaline poses a threat to all existing traders, and to put it in terms everyone will understand. There will be a hostile take over.\n\nDamien will go down in history, but how that history looks is vastly different. A secondary wave came, they split like capitol-city-seeking missiles. And so began the infrastructure. Structures the size of towns were erected in hours. And with Liam's guidance, the aliens constructed fear factories. Industrial buildings designed to evoke adrenaline in any living person they could capture. Many wondered if this was just an upscaled version of Liam Brent's prior business plan. \n\nThe fringe, those that saw this coming, have taken to the underground. Living in fear of the foreign force - who showed no signs of leaving. Reconnaissance missions were conducted every three months, and with each, they recognised less and less of their Earth. It resembled a farm.\n\n---\n\n/r/WrittenThought" ]	[ 1, 2, 7, 11, 15 ]	[ "1544759058", "1544817881", "1544779202", "1544791810", "1544778384" ]
[deleted]	[WP] The war is going poorly. The armies are defeated and the country is in disarray. As your general dies, he commands you, his strongest and dumbest soldier, to fight on with "Gorilla Tactics".	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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "Sr. General Thomas looked at the interactive Macrosoft^TM war map and shook his head in disapproval. Battle after battle lost. Enormous amounts of territory had been captured by the enemy already.\n\nThe doors to the War Room slammed open, and General Crookston ran in.\n\n\"Sir! The enemy is ten miles from the capitol!\"\n\nThomas sighed. \"How many men do we have left in the army?\"\n\n\"Ten thousand, sir. Out of four hundred thousand.\"\n\n...\n\n\"Sir?\"\n\nThomas shook his head. \"Desperate times call for desperate measures. Unleash the Upperclassman.\"\n\n\"Are you sure about this?\" Shock was plainly written in the junior general's face.\n\n\"There's nothing left to do,\" General Thomas said, slumping back into his chair, exhausted.\n\n---\n\nThe Iustian army, fifty thousand strong, progressed towards the capital of the Republic States of America. As they moved, tanks crushed farmland, footsoldiers beat out new paths, and Iustian government hackers rode along in classy sedans that were remarkably out of place on the battlefield.\n\nThroughout the army, there was a general sense of victory. They'd functionally won the war already, with the only thing remaining being capturing the capital. Soldiers joked among themselves, relaxed, the tank gunners took coffee breaks, and the hackers browsed the internet.\n\nOne hacker was checking to see if they'd broken into the RSA's government intra-communication system yet when, out of the blue, their firewall went down. Within moments, the hacker took all pertinent information from the database, and on his way out, bothered to leave a message.\n\n\"y'all fucken suck at war lmao\"\n\n---\n\nA scream of rage was emitted from four hundred feet north and twenty thousand feet high, a scream that could be heard even by the Iustian army below.\n\n\"*WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST FUCKING SAY ABOUT ME, YOU LITTLE BITCH?\"\n\n---\n\nA small figure dropped from a passing plane. Iustian scouts watched it become larger and larger until it revealed itself as a person. One made the signal to turn the anti-missile systems off; this was only a footsoldier.\n\n\"He's not deploying a parachute,\" someone muttered.\n\nBut that man did not need a parachute. He landed just a couple hundred feet from the army, in a pose similar to what one would expect of a superhero.\n\nHis voice was definitely not heroic, though. \"I'LL HAVE YOU KNOW I GRADUATED AT THE TOP OF MY CLASS IN THE NAVY SEALS!\"\n\nThe man rolled to a kneeling position, pulling a sniper rifle out of thin air.\n\nA scout noticed his weapon pointing in the general direction of the army and notified his superiors, \"Hey there's a s--\"\n\nThe scout's head blew off.\n\n\"THAT MAKES THREE HUNDRED AND NINE CONFIRMED KILLS, BITCH!\"\n\nAt this point, the Iustians had taken full and complete notice of this single footsoldier. A tank's main gun rotated and fired--\n\nat empty space. The area the Upperclassman had occupied was empty. The voice came from behind them this time.\n\n\"I AM TRAINED IN GORILLA TACTICS AND I'M THE TOP SNIPER IN THE ENTIRE US FORCES!!\"\n\nAnother soldier's head disappeared in a red mist.\n\n\"YOU ARE NOTHING TO ME BUT ANOTHER TARGET.\"\n\nSuddenly, one of the hackers yelled, \"Boss, the equipment's malfunctioning!\"\n\n\"AS WE SPEAK I AM CONTACTING MY SECRET NETWORK OF SPIES ACROSS THE RSA AND YOUR IP HAS BEEN FUCKING TRACED SO YOU BETTER PREPARE FOR THE STORM, MAGGOTS. THE STORM THAT WIPES OUT THE PATHETIC LITTLE THING YOU CALL YOUR LIVES.\"\n\nWith that declaration, the Upperclassman charged. Within moments, he was in the center of the army.\n\n\"I CAN BE ANYWHERE, ANYTIME.\"\n\nA full seven hundred footsoldiers engaged HIM, yet in a flurry of movement, he killed them all, seemingly without even a weapon.\n\n\"I CAN KILL YOU IN OVER SEVEN HUNDRED WAYS, AND THAT'S JUST WITH MY BARE HANDS.\"\n\nThe battle started in earnest now. The Upperclassman flitted from here to there, killing thousands of soldiers at a time. At some point he blew up a tank without even coming close to it.\n\n\"I'M GETTING TIRED OF THIS.\"\n\nFrom the distance, multiple flares of light tracked across the sky.\n\n\"I HAVE ACCESS TO THE ENTIRE ARSENAL OF THE REPUBLIC STATES MARINE CORPS AND I WILL USE IT TO ITS FULL EXTENT TO WIPE YOUR ASSES OFF THE FACE OF THE CONTINENT!!\"\n\nAs the missiles approached, the Iustians found their defense systems inoperable, presumably due to the top secret network of spies the Upperclassman had deployed.\n\nWhen the carnage was over, the Iustian army was decimated. Nobody that had walked into this battlefield had walked out. The landscape was straight out of Hell, scorched earth mingling with mangled metal.\n\n\"YOU'RE FUCKING DEAD, KIDDOS.*\"" ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1544766847", "1544767421" ]
	[WP] Universities are the safest place in the post-post apocalyptic world. They protect and cultivate the bright minds that will rebuild the world. You get invited to attend, but your scholarship doesn't cover room & board. You have to commute through the dangerous wasteland to get to class on time.	10,793	[ "Off-Topic Discussion: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfill every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "Wrote this on my work break but I've got to go back in! I didn't get very far but maybe you can carry it on :)\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n‘DRRRRINGG DRRRRINGG DRR-’ Sam rolled out of bed, shut off her alarm and rubbed the sleep from her eyes.\n\n‘Bollocks’, she exclaimed, after a bleary-eyed scan of the crumpled timetable on her bedside.\n\nClass started in an hour; and uni was an hour through the dead-zone, presuming nothing got in the way.\n\n‘Better get a bloody move on then Samantha!’ She chuckled to herself, remembering how her dad would shout up the stairs to hurry her before driving to school.\n\nShe felt a tinge of sadness remembering her father, but thought better of it, he’d never want to live in a world without pubs, cricket and telly. The older folks that made it through usually wished they hadn’t, they could never truly accept the post-war world. She bounded down the stairs of the old-family home, donning a scraggly t shirt, an ex’s old trackies and odd socks. She popped her shoes on, grabbed a slice of bread and slammed the door behind her, munching a floppy bit of brown bread as she walked up what was once the drive.\n\nEvery time she left her house, even when in a rush, she gave it a backward glance. Sam lived at 14 Green Lane, she always had. There was nothing exceptional about 14 Green Lane aside from the fact that it remained intact and habitable, which was never much of a feat until a blitz bombing flattened every house around it to rubble. It was certainly odd, plausibly even divine intervention. To Sam though, it just was a sign that she had a purpose to fulfil.", "I'm a bot, bleep, bloop. Someone has linked to this thread from another place on reddit:\n\n- [/r/u_jen_the_rogue] [\\[WP\\] Universities are the safest place in the post-post apocalyptic world. They protect and cultivate the bright minds that will rebuild the world. You get invited to attend, but your scholarship doesn't cover room & board. You have to commute through the dangerous wasteland to get to class on time.](https://www.reddit.com/r/u_Jen_the_Rogue/comments/a6881i/wp_universities_are_the_safest_place_in_the/)\n\n&nbsp;^(If you follow any of the above links, please respect the rules of reddit and don't vote in the other threads.) ^\\([Info](/r/TotesMessenger) ^/ ^[Contact](/message/compose?to=/r/TotesMessenger))", "“Hi Professor Monte”\n\n“Hi Tom. Did you have a safe trip in today?”\n\n“Yes. Even though I have to drive through a dangerous wasteland, and I don’t have the money to pay for room and board here, I am grateful to have the opportunity to be here.\n\n“I have everything to be thankful for. My family is alive. I am learning important things to save the human race. My heart is filled with joy as much as my mind is being filled with knowledge.\n\n“I would never complain or join a complaint community because of my circumstance. I have everything compared to the majority of the remaining human race.\n\n“Genuine gratitude is all I have.”\n\n“That is good to hear, Tom. You know, the reason why the apocalypse happened is because fascists took over our universities, which were filled with Marxist revisionists, and hateful people who did nothing but show their lack of grace, and spewed all of their hate and unreasonable hate towards anyone who was different from themselves. They created safe spaces instead of engaging in true academic thought. Universities became the breeding ground for self-absorbed, self-righteous, myopic, ideologue pussies.”\n\n“I know professor. That is why I am so grateful to be here, to learn rather than to attach myself to identity politics. Nothing but gratefulness will ever leave my mouth. I am lucky and I know it.”", "Why couldn't it have been zombies. My mind runs over the history lessons on how we ended up like this. Mankind has always been obsessed with the end. Zombie movies, alian invasion, nucular wars. We didn't realize that we had to fall like rome. None of that mattered now that the rebuilding had begun. The last bastions of safety became the new centers of learning. If I made it to class alive.\n\nI slunk through the desolate streets like a rat in a sewer, keeping the wall of a half ruined apartments complex on my right. That's when the snarls started. See humans don't like to mutate to much, something about higher thought preserving the physical form. Sometimes though someone would go animalistic. Then we had to watch out for hell on earth. This one had to be the ugliest I'd seen, but not near the biggest. His face was torn, two tusks breaking the skin under his jawline like an elephant. His back looked lumpy, with scales like an over grown iguana making their way from the spine to the sides of his ribs.\n\nI drew my blade, a trusy machete I found in the trunk of an old Honda, and stepped out from my hiding spot. Mutants were solitary by necessity so I had no worries about an ambush. I waited, relaxed like a whip before the swing, and he rushed. Step left, cut right and cover the flank. My counter attack left a deep wound in the filthy things arm, not enough. Again it rushed. Step right, cross body thrust and spin into guard. This one hit the head, just left of an eye. Damn good thing too cause he was on me again in a second. Parry, check, kick the knee and punch the neck. I felt the warm trickle of blood down my arm as the tusk scraped my bicep. Too close, but I had the last word. My machete sunk deep into the spine, and the mutant dropped to drown it his own blood. \n\n\"F@#%. That was close.\" I cleaned my weapon on a rag from my belt and continued on. And I thought university was tough without the life or death. Now where did I drop that textbook.....\n\n\nAw crap.", "\"hey it's that preppy fuck!\" some ass in a tacky leather jacket hollered at me. His whole gang of roided skin heads turned, in their equally tacky adornments, spikes and chains jingling like a group of kittens in too big collars. \"oh yeah that black bitch from on the other side of the mound\" one of them chimed in, \"uppity bitch\" spouted another no necked bastard added creatively. Honestly I shoulda been scared by now but it was really just another day in the dustbowl, I mean shit how many times had she come round that god forsaken trash heap on her 2 wheeler and run into these Nazi fucks?\n\nOn another day she mighta yelled back somethin along the lines of \"EAT SHIT YOU HAIRLESS FREAKS\" but...\n\n she was late for class so she just pedaled faster.\n\ntho she still wondered, as she always did... \n\nhow they managed maintain all that over layered hypertrophy with food as scarce as it was. some said they ate the \"uppity Queers who wandered to close\" but she knew better than that, all of her friends could either scrap easily with at least a few of those Beefcakes or run much faster than anyone in that much leather ever could.\n\nRegardless tho she would be safe as soon as she within Clark's walls, or at least as safe as she ever was...\n\nThose old thick bricks kept out the gruffer right-wingers but the administration still wasn't too friendly to those that bent gender as easily as she did.\n\nTrans-Womxn, even in the nuclear winter of the year 3004, were still in danger just about anywhere they went...\n\nher thoughts grew harder and more frantic then, thinking of all those who came before her, the hundreds of years of oppression and healing and joy and grief and...\n\nshe had to stop herself, there was far too much to dwell on, and she was almost to class, Post atomic Metaphysics 101.\n\nshe let the sad but beautiful sight of ash flying over a hazy dawn clear her mind. Watching with a attentive gaze as the dawn, cracked gently over a grey shoreline behind her goggles. It was so beautiful she almost crashed directly into the armed guard pointing a rifle at her midriff. \n\n\"HALT\" he said and then \"IDENTIFY\" Hurling each word like a warning shot itself.\n\nshe skidded to a stop dropping her bike in the process and stood as confidently as she could without picking it up.\n\n\"VItriol Oshun\" she said holding out her state of the art holographic ID card, which she couldn't help but remember costed more then a months worth of food for her whole family.\n\nThe masked guard she couldn't identify took his time looking over her holo card. Always keeping his rifle pointed at her chest. \n\nshe knew he recognized her, she came here everyday.\n\n \"proceed\" \n\nhe said stepping aside lowering his rifle an inch or two. She walked calmly past him, and his eyes followed her for a little too long.\n\nshe shivered as she rounded the corner on too smooth tile, and took a deep breath as she parked her bike.\n\nshe'd made it thru another commute.\n\nnow it was time for class.", "Blinking my crusty eyelids to life rays from the massive orange sun cause my pupils to dilate. I can hear cockroaches scurry as I tilt my head, trying to force my body into motion. \n&nbsp;\nI begin my morning preparation. Covering myself in a synthetic jelly and scraping off what of it I can. Cockroaches race to the drippings. I try to block from my mind the thought that they’ve been feeding on my dead skin cells during the night. The paste is supposed to reduce the natural human scent, but the waxy paraffin scent of it always makes me gag a bit first thing in the morning. \nI take my jar of malt-o-meal from the wall and drip what I can from the night’s water condenser onto it before eating. I wonder what this stuff is made of as I stare into the bowl. Different shades of orange and brown mush. Though I can’t complain, it doesn’t get much better than this in the wastes.\n I start the trek from my shack into town. I can see coyotes running in the distance, like everything here, looking for their next meal. I keep a firm grip on my walking stick. A blade concealed in the foot if ever I find trouble. Luckily I’ve never had to use it on more than a feral dog, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t brandished it before some young men that were looking for an easy target. \nThe sun bakes down hard and I’m glad for the jelly that keeps the orange sun’s rays from mutating my skin. \nI walk past piles of burning trash as I approach the city. Trash people peak out from behind their hovels as I walk past. \nProstitutes, beggars, and hucksters hassle me as I approach the city gates. But I know the routine, no eye contact, no verbal contact. I brush them off and approach the eye. Blue electric lines scan my face as I stand in position.\n“State identity.” The robotic voice says at the mechanical eye swivels around my head.\n“Student 2161, Albert.” I say, and a hydraulic door opens into the city.\nI remember the first time I saw the city. It was like looking onto a whole new world. Electronic screens flash, advertising products, giving warnings, listing bounties, some don’t seem to have any purpose at all. Robots walk the streets doing much the same.\nBut now I don’t find the inside too much different from the outside. The people have the same hot desperation. The hucksters just use more technological techniques to get your money. The prostitutes are only cleaner on the outside. \nI approach the gate to the school and enter with a nod to the guard. \nI enter the locker room and pull out my uniform. Blue and gold. Stiff, but still flexible enough to move when you need to. With a look in the mirror and a swipe to put my hair in place I head to the classroom and stand at attention. \n“TODAY ARE EXAMS.” The sergeant yells. “TODAY’S EXAMS WILL DETERMINE YOUR PLACE IN OUR FORCES, OR THEY WILL DETERMINE YOUR PLACE IN THE WASTES. THERE IS NO OTHER TIME. NOW YOU WILL BEGIN TO ENSURE YOUR PATH TO CITIZENSHIP.”\nI relax as the sergeant finishes. My indifference is my strength. \n", "Well....\"(bad word-F)\" universities....about 90 percent of them are just another way to remind you that you are no more than a slave......and talking of post-post apocalyptic world.!!!........there are just 2 possibilities first, we will not be there to witness even after the first catastrophic disaster. Secondly, we already had left the earth.\n\nBut for the sake of writing..........here we go....\n\n14 guk 8004,\nBlackday-q, \n\nAfter the catastrophic eruption of \"CUBRE VIEJA\" about 7 kjels' ago the earth is covered with about 20 welos thick blanket of dark fog. The temperature has fallen to -28°p. There were few attempts made by us to remove the fog but they made it worse. The radiations from the bombing were too high that some nations totally disappeared as there were no one to save them from the blue fog. After the latest attempt our satellites went out of range and we are no longer using it.\n\nTo survive this \"COLD-HELL\" the locals of some vast areas united in order to keep human species alive. For hope and with hope we were able to make under ground farming systems and they are not sufficient to make everyone happy.\n\nBut the worst of all that happened was the world is now divided in to 2 halves. The first one is on the northern hemisphere and they named them as natives of Australia, which is the derived from the ancient land of Australia. It is believed that about 5000 kjels' from now its was some where in the southern hemisphere. The second part named Us which means \"we\" although some believed that there was a nations somewhere in ancient time, in about 3500 CV. According to archeologists, its was the most active one in its time.\n\nOn Blackday-d, An announcement was made, that the leader want all of us to have knowledge and started a university in which respected personalities teach subjects like philosophy, geology, farming, study of numbers and numerous processes of extracting water from different sources. The university was came to act last qeee.\n\nToday was my first day at that university. It is like a messy place as everyone is allowed in there. From 8 e.r. to 5 t.r. it remain totally crowdy. But the most challenging part is to make it to the university.\n\nI have been assigned a job to keep track of the upcoming storms. So My house is at on a remote mountain near a far dried river. The wasteland around my house is full of octohites. Octohites are small but sticky animals and their primary food source is bone marrow. Thank the Leader, who sucked all of their strength and made them weak. The land around here fell off deep into the core of the mountain and some times balls attack the area. All these things make it difficult to survive here and as a bonus I have to go to university and food supplies through all this hell.\n\nSo I was going to university at about 9:12 e.r. I picked my tool bag and a scratcher. My dog and brother were alone at home, but there was nothing to worry, so did not think about it much as our house is under military surveillance. I was commuting through and saw a different creature out of the land limit. Land limit is the limit for after which no man is allowed. I was curious, so I followed it. Jumping through the fence which because of cold temperature ,which made it weak, fell off. I named that creature as \"rudios\". Rudios has wings and a bright tale with change colors according to the surroundings. But unfortunately I scared it and rudios flew some where in the dark sky fog.\n\nJust before few welos apart from university I saw my wife in walking out of women's erty. As all the ladies of particular blocks work for easy but demanding jobs and are only allowed to go home after the university is closed. She saw me and burst with joy and as she had not came home since the qeee. Today she was allowed to go home. From there I took her to university. The university was partially under ground and they were using a tower which went into the sky fog to draw power from it.\n\nUpon reaching university, we were came to know about something odd. A bad news was there, everyone working at the areas' main power station started to lost their memory and few of them had gone out on the wild lands. The other news we heard their was that someone across the ocean came in recently and they are not from the northern hemisphere. They seemed to have developed indifferent ways to generate power. My class for farming had started by now and with my wife I went to it. The university is also a way to make new links. As living on a remote mountain cuts you off from everyone.\n\nBy the time the university closes, we picked my brother's wife, through wire train to military base, we went home.\n\nIt is believed that on 37 opi 8009, blackday-qr, everyone will be saved by the master of the leader who lives up in the sky where the fog ends.\n\n_____________________________________________________________\n\nEdit: there are so many mistakes........kindly report them.!!\n1Edit: my English is not good......please criticise it..!!!!\n127Edit: I feel odd........please make it complex...!!!!!\n\nThanks for wasting time on this......", "“Go to school Danny”\nthe figure lifts his arm which holds a machete and swings it down upon the dense undergrowth, carving a few more steps forward\n\n“Go get an edu- another swing and a step -CAtion Danny”\n\n“It’ll be - yet another swing and step forward as the figure breaks into a small clearing - GOod for you”\n\nThe figure stands in the clearing, leaning on his machete while catching his breath. Taking his sleeve he wipes the dust, sweat and a odd purple liquid from his face.\n\n“Phew, well if I’m correct that’s most of the way...so where the hell is the city?” The figure takes a moment to look around noticing, not for the first time the ruins of civilization that surround him. “Look at this, look at what once was all around us! The sheer amount of control they had! Can you imagine what life was like with fossil fuels? The MACHINES!!! Gods what I wouldn’t give for a excavator and a full tank! To not have to cut my way through another vine. Oh gods that’s the dream!”\n\nthe figure stretches his arms out and lazily spins in a circle as a second figure, smaller in stature with what appears to be a suitcase in tow now exits the forest growth.\n\n“Well Danny you know it was those exact machines that lead to the bloom right? It was people’s greed for more and more that lead to the mass extinctions and the broadening of temperate regions that caused this and frankly the rest of the world to enter a super period of growth...then extreme extinction once companies decided to produce a virus that killed of the vines that replaced...well they replaced damn near everything didn’t they?”\n\nThe figure stops spinning and turns to face the new individual. Then begins half heartedly hacking at a few vines.\n\n“Then why aren’t he vines gone? Huh Mrs.Smarty pants?”\n\n“Because the same corporations that thought they could control things and destroyed the world the first time are BAD at controlling the world and managed to kill only the FRUIT bearing vines Danny. Did you pay absolutely no attention to our lessons?”\n\n“Camiel, you really know how to kill a mood don’t you?”\n“...”\n“...”\n\nThere is a momentary pause as the two stare at each other and eventually the individual you assume is Danny looks down and returns to cutting vines.\n\n“I’ve been told that, yes. But I don’t see why you drool over the rusted remains of what was, THEY did it wrong and you’re getting a free ride at TU for getting ME there alive. So can we please focus on getting ME somewhere with air conditioning and barred windows, you know I hate sleeping out here where the bugs can get in”\n\n“Yeah yeah I gotcha, don’tcha worry your pretty little head, if I’m reading the maps correctly and no one’s shifted the axis of the earth we’re not too far out.”\n\n“Good, I hate it out here. It reminds me of what we’ve lost. Can we please just go already? Our escorts are dead and all I have right now is...you...so if you wouldn’t mind I would prefer we push on until we make it.”\n\n“Fair enough, but you really should be thanking me for not just leaving you to those bugs. A lesser individual would have cut their losses and run instead of fighting a pair of four foot long fire ants or did you forget that?”\n\n“Sorry Danny, it’s been a tough trip and.. I just want it over...”\n\n“I know, and it almost is, just a few more days and you’ll be making your own changes in the world. Lets hope you do better than the last bunch of idiots we put in power, killing off the only vines worth keeping and leaving us with this shit...what caused the initial bloom anyway?”\n\n“Danny, when we get to the university we’re going to have to get you an archive pass. Have you heard of the internet?”\n\n“I’ve heard of it, it’s like a super library or something right? Or is that...encylowikipedia?”\n\n“Almost right...ish. Not really but we’ll work on it.”\n\nAnd with that the two figures returned to their journey, hacking their way through the underbrush toward the main hall. Well actually if they keep going that direction they’ll hit the old parking garage. You wonder if you should go tell them that they’re already on campus and show them the right way before anymore ants show up. Or they skip over the university...then again you’re not supposed to be using the trail cameras until class in the morning. Maybe you’ll just go tell Greg, he’s supposed to be on surveillance right now anyway so he should be out there already...or you can switch to camera three and keep watching...\n\nYou reach out an arm and tap the tab key to switch cameras until the figures pop back up, as you begin to wonder if this is the prodigy that was supposed to arrive two weeks ago...maybe you should tell Greg to go make sure they’re not killed by mutant ants or what is now a much more literal murder of crows...yeah...best get Greg.\n\nYou leave the two figures on the screen and turn to go down the long dimly lit hallway of the sub basements that the university now calls home, intent upon finding Greg and making sure that the two who had traveled so far don’t make it this far only to die upon arrival. But it’s not like people can just stay on campus, the faculty need a break too...or so you’re told. So every season the students are sent home and have to make their way back.\n\nYou wonder why no one else has taken to just living in the ruins of the city, it works well enough for you. Unlike the prodigy you’ve been watching you didn’t get free board. Actually as far as you know you’re the only unlucky sod not to receive free board...but hey, it just keeps you on your game and means that you don’t have to travel all the way back to Utah every season. Like you’d make the trip anyway. \n\nThe screen fades into power save mode as your footsteps fade into the darkness, and a new moon begins to rise over a broken world.\n————-\n\nDidn’t edit too much just did a scan let me know what your thoughts were and if you have any recommendations! Hope ya’ll enjoy.", "The first day, you showed up late, limping, sunburned, and dusty, but in high spirits. The route you had picked out was long and winding, to avoid obvious bandit traps and minefields, but it was clear you needed to set out earlier next time. You also failed to account for the ozone-absent sky and the power of the naked sun. Perhaps you were being paranoid, but you could swear you already had new moles. You also failed to properly ration your water, so once you were through the biometrics and on the campus itself, you had to waste even more time refilling your canteens with non-irradiated water (a buck a litre) before you could finally get to the lecture hall. You came in a little too loudly, perhaps, because you got a bunch of dirty looks, and because there was nowhere to sit you had to work from your lap on the stairs. Things weren't off to the best start, but you had confidence that you could turn things around.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nA week later, you knew that you were foolish to think so. A spotter had found you upon your route, and after a grueling two hour chase, you ditched your satchels and canteens to get them off your tail. Pale and dehydrated, you were a little snappy with the gate guard, and locked out for the day. Defeated, your notes lost, you waited in the sun with your hat pulled low until the other students started filtering out, and parleyed with them for copies of their notes. There were no takers, but eventually someone agreed to take tomorrow's notes for you while you caught up in the library. All they wanted was your last valuable possession, your ipod. Defeated, you handed it over, and began the trudge home.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nThe next day, you met them at the gate, fried from overstudy, and they shoved a single sheet of recycled paper at you. \"Your music sucks,\" they said. The paper was blank.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n&#x200B;\n\nIn the week leading up to midterms, you were sitting on the infirmary table with your shirt off, biting into a belt while the medic pulled buckshot from your back. Your professor was pacing back and forth, droning on about how poor your performance was, about how unprepared you were for the coming assessment. How you weren't strong enough for the true hardship that was about to begin. One of your teeth came out, and you flicked it into the waste-bin.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n&#x200B;\n\nOne day, you were caught in a radiation storm on the way to class. You took shelter in a cave, but found it already occupied by armed raiders. Your heart pounding at impossible speeds, you maintained eye contact and sat against the opposite wall. You were panicking because you were slowly going blind, and you knew if the bandits found out, you were done for.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nAs it turned out, you were wrong. When the storm had passed, they escorted you back home safely. You tried three times that week to set off for class with a stick to feel out your way, but kept getting turned around. So you sat in the shade of your shack, wishing you still had your ipod. When your vision did return, it was greatly diminished, but you had a newfound determination.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n&#x200B;\n\nIt got out that someone was stealing food from the kitchens in large quantities. Theories were wild and fast, and far from the truth. Nobody seemed to know about the broken grate in the wall where the river passed through. Nobody but you.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n&#x200B;\n\nYour final paper was very controversial, but something had changed in the air. People were regarding you with a new respect. They would clear space for you to sit in the lecture hall. They would make way for you in the cafeteria. When debates broke out, they would speak to you only in the calmest and most respectful terms. Perhaps it was the muscle mass you had put on. Perhaps it was the scars. Perhaps it was the 10-gauge shotgun you somehow kept managing to smuggle onto campus.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n&#x200B;\n\nGraduation day came, and as you arrived at the front gate, the guards lifted their weapons and started shouting fearfully. It seemed they were upset by the eighteen-hundred armed friends you had brought. \"They're family,\" you said firmly. \"They want to see the ceremony.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nYour family cocked their weapons. The guards let you through.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n&#x200B;\n\nAs the president placed the diploma cover in your hand, you smiled sweetly, but your one good eye remained deadly cold. You turned to the crowd, who were mostly raiders, and pointed your shotgun at the sky to fire once.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nNow you were the president, and it was your campus. Clean water, cool storage for food, sturdy housing, strong walls... It would make a good place to start your empire. You made note of which of the students weren't cheering, and devised appropriate fates for them. It was no coincidence that they were the ones who had treated you like shit.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nNow you could get your ipod back, you thought idly.", "With a scholarship that didn't include a room and board stipend, Chad had no housing option but the religious orders.\n\nLuckily, he had an ace in the hole. One of his ancestors, perhaps his most famous ancestor, had been a member of one of the orders in the late 20th century. The brothers always respected applicants who could trace their lineage back to prior members, and they put particular weight on those from the before-time.\n\nThere was no question of his being immediately turned away, but he still had to prove himself. During the period of his initiation, he would have to prove to the brotherhood that he was worthy of being called a brother.\n\nThey would frequently bring him vials of liquid. Drinking the liquid swiftly and without question, whether it was water, wine or waste it showed humility and that his fate was in the hands of his brothers. At other times they would blindfold him, he was then required to speak enshrined names while the brothers struck him with their fists. Finally, he was made to imbibe the sacramental alcohol, and to recite the revered texts without flaw.\n\nHis novitiate period was difficult, but he was determined to make it. The brothers all worked on campus, and with their protection he could safely reach the campus as well. He wasn't a particularly spiritual person, but this order was more about the relationship between brothers than about spirituality.\n\nOne day a brother knocked on the door to his chambers. They bade him come down to the great hall. The brothers were attempting to keep a solemn look, but he thought he caught smiles which were quickly suppressed. The ceremony which followed was brief. It concluded with the [august headgear](https://i.imgur.com/S7EVOxy.jpg) being placed on his head.\n\nAnd with that, Chad Kavanaugh was ordained a Lover of Beer, and a brother of Delta Kappa Epsilon, one of the premier fraternal organizations of Yale university.\n", "Dodging the mutants on the way to school was not too hard, they are slow and mostly stupid. Upon reaching the campus you are surprised to see the gates open and no guards. A few trampled leaflets in the mud read \"No Walls! No Borders! Stop Mutant Discrimination!\".\n\nUndeterred you make it to the main lecture hall which survived the blast only to discover a massacre. All the professors and other students remains are scattered around like a horrifying butcher house. The lead professor's skin is stretched like a giant kite hanging from the whiteboard. In his bloody hand is clutched a piece of paper. You climb up on the desk to reach it and read it--the minutes from the latest meeting. Agenda items include, \"Post Acopolypse, Post Patriarchy. Discussion on Intersectionality in the ruins.\" The list goes on the same theme. The last item, \"mutants are banging at the door, vote on whether they are racist or homophobic\".\n\n&#x200B;\n\nPutting the note down, you leave in disgust and finally stumble on the technical college down the street. There plumbers, electricians, mechanics and engineers are busy rebuilding. You have found your post apocalyptic home.", "5:47. Minutes past daybreak. Rain spatters the windscreen. In the distance, the university spires wind up toward hellish amber skies. I have forgotten what it was like before the storm. For moments I can picture a blue sky, but the memory is always fleeting, like the face of someone you loved a long time ago, or the voice of my mother as she sang Ella Fitzgerald in the loft of our once-Brooklyn apartment:\n\nBlue skies\n\nSmiling at me\n\nNothing but blue skies\n\nDo I see…\n\nOver and over: a scratched vinyl skipping back over itself. I can go no further. And in truth, I don’t try to, one verse is pleasant, any more would be painful. Any more and I might start to construct her face — sewing crude fragments of memory into a Frankenstein of what was she.\n\nThe sound of movement jerks me back to reality. I glance out at the abandoned 7/11: the doorstep of my best friend’s house. Miles is late. He is always late. But today, his lateness is a crime. Today is tryouts. And whoever makes the team gets a spot on campus. Yes. The apocalypse has taken athletic privileges to whole other level. After all, you can’t expect to win nationals if your star Lacrosse player gets devoured by a flesh-eating demon.", "The alarm sounds and you open your eyes. For you class begins when that bell rings. Todays lesson plan is the first thing you see as it displays itsself before you.\n\nFood.\nYou eat as the display transitions into this day's forecasted postapocalypse.\n\nA nano virus has eradicated all meaning and knowledge.\n\nYou think to yourself as you prepare for the commute, \"I don't know what that means.\" Then your mind fades into nothing. Your world goes dark as you discohere.\n\n\"Class begins in one hour.\"\n\nWords. Language. Things. Thought. Class. Space. Hour. Time. You see. Sense and nonsense. You fall. It hurts. Pain. Body. \"Ouch,\" you say. You. Who are you. Body. Pain. Ouch. Mind. Thought. You see. Hands? Movement. \"Who am I?\" Being. Questions. Answers. \"I am.\" Where. Space. What. Room. When. Time. Now. Movement. Past. Future. Hour. \"Class begins in one hour.\"\n\nMemory.\n\nA lifetime of memories flood into your being and you are actualized.\n\nYou open the door before you and walk into class with 3 minutes to spare.\n\n\"Glad to see you passed todays pop quiz on existential apocalypses. Please have a seat.\"\n\nAs you find your seat, you hear the professor begin today's lecture \"Mental decoherence apocalypses are much like those of physical decoherence. The key difference being...\"\n\n", "\"You have final exams today, yes? Did you study enough?\"\n\n\"If I didn't, it's a little late to change that now.\"\n\n\"You have your pencils, yes? Did you pack enough for lunch?\"\n\n\"I've got a whole bag of tanglehorn jerky that Mr. Hoppenneimer gave me yesterday.\"\n\n\"What about a change of clothes? If you wind up having to cut through the bog your pants will be-\"\n\n\"I'll be fine, Mrs. Petrovich.\"\n\nMrs. Petrovich stopped fussing with the young man's collar and folded her hands together at her waist with slight embarrassment. Then, feeling awkward, she began smoothing out her wirey grey bun and stared absently at the floor.\n\n\"Iakov...\" She muttered his name in the way she always had when she was worried about him. Jacob had asked her once why she called him that, and she had said that her native pronunciation of his name sounded \"stronger.\" It helped to remind her that he was not a little boy, but becoming a man, though to Jacob it still felt like more of a pet name she used to adress him.\n\nHe looked at the old woman and felt a touch of guilt. He placed his hands on her shoulders and she lifted her gaze to his. Tired, sunken, hazy-blue eyes that had seen far too much in the 50 years since...well. She had seen a great deal too much evil. Jacob knew this. He had seen it, too, in his comparatively short 19 years. His parents' deaths. Mr. Petrovich's slow consumption by illness. He knew of the death of their only son, Dmitri, long ago, but had never ventured to ask how it had happened. But through it all, Mrs. Petrovich still took care of him, and still stayed strong. It was her strength that had driven Jacob to even try to be better.\n\n\"You will not be here when you are grown.\" She had told him once when he was still a boy. \"I do not know where you will end up, but it will be better than here. I will do all I can to get you out of this place, my Iakov.\"\n\n\"Mrs. Petrovich...\" He began, then chewed his lip. \"Mom. Im going to be fine.\"\n\nShe brightened at that, and pulled him into a hug.\n\"I worry, my Iakov.\" She said into his chest.\n\n\"I know,\" he stroked her back, \"thank you.\"\n\nShe pushed him away and held him at arms length, \"What about ammunition? Have you cleaned the rifle recently? And stakes-\"\n\nThe young man spun around and pointed both thumbs at his backpack. Mr. Petrovich's old military rifle and four fire-hardened wooden stakes hung from loops sewn to either side.\n\n\"Like I said, I'll be fine.\" Jacob insisted. At that, three sharp knocks came from the front door. \"That'll be Stephen. I have to go.\" He said, kissing his adoptive mother on the forehead.\n\n\"Good luck, Iakovsky.\" She smiled after him.\n\nStephen was waiting on the porch, one leg propped along the railing as he took a long drag grom a cigarette. If Mrs. Petrovich was Jacob's mother, Stephen would be like a brother. Well, perhaps brother was too strong a word. Stephen was around 30 years old now, though most people didn't keep very good track of birthdays anymore. If you asked him, the man would claim he hadn't aged since his 21st birthday, \"You're only as old as you think you are!\"\n\nJacob cleared his throat and waited. Just as he was about to call out to him, Stephen lazily turned his head, letting a chunk of ash fall to the porch. The man looked Jacob up and down with a slow regard and then asked with a dry throat, \"Pants?\" \nJacob's heart dropped into his stomach. That meant that they would have to detour through the bog.\n\n\"Can't we take the overpass?\" He asked, hopefully. \"If we just go up Northpike and cut through the schoolyard-\"\n\n\"Can't. Weather's warming up, so there's a herd of tanglehorn grazing at the schoolyard. Besides, we gotta get you there on time, bright boy.\" He took another drag from his cigarette and flicked it away.\n\n\"Well, maybe we could-\"\n\n\"It's the bog.\" Stephen said with finality. \"We've gotta go right through the old park, but we shouldn't need to go by the playground so long as the sun stays out.\"\n\nJacob shuddered remembering the last time they'd had to pass by that rusty jungle gym and shook his head to get his mind off of it.\n\nAs the two of them made their way to the gate, people going down the street began waving and cheering him on. Some of the kids ran alongside the two men for a while, asking Jacob if he was going to pass his test and when he would be able to \"fix\" them, for everyone in the community, even Mrs. Petrovich and Stephen, was a mutant. Some had club feet, others had underdeveloped limbs or one too many.\n\nBut not Jacob. He was their \"perfect posterboy\", as Stephen had once put it; a totally ordinary looking person from the community, and the only one who would be allowed to attend the University. The community had raised him well, had taught him all they knew, and finally, on his 18th birthday, representatives from the University came.\n\nGrowing up, Jacob had often found himself wondering if all anyone saw in him was their chance at a better life, and for a number of them he was sure that all they saw him as was a meal ticket. But that was alright with him. Jacob owed everything to these people, and if his studies could lead to helping those effected by mutation, if he could help make Mrs. Petrovich's life better, he would do so happily.\n\n\"Jay-coooob~\" Some girls called from a balcony, waving and blowing kisses at the pair as they marched down the road. Stephen elbowed him in the chest as Jacob began raising his hand. \n\nAs the gate came into view, Jacob thought again about their trek to the university. Normally, Stephen would take him up Pelmore Avenue through what remained of the old stadium, and then it was a straight shot across Leaning Bridge to the edge of the city. \"Civilization.\" Jacob thought, though a civilization that didn't accept just anyone.\n\nBut the Bog was a different story. It had once been a great park, nearly twice the size of Jacob's home. However, that was in the past, and like many things, the park that was once a popular gathering spot for couples and students had devolved into a muggy, muddy, dreary wetland with overgrown reeds and gnarled trees that nobody who had been around 50 years prior could identify. Strange things called that place home now, and even stranger things happened there in the almost omnipresent mist that hung over the place like a cold shroud whenever the sun wasn't out. Jacob once again caught himself thinking back to the jungle gym.\n\n\"Check.\" Stephen barked, shaking him from his memory. The two of them gave one another's packs a once over to see if they could find any holes or anything amiss. Satisfied, the two of them slipped out of the gate, leaving the community behind.\n\n\n", " I pushed the branch out of the way and glanced out. Rain. It was pouring creating walls that swept across the barren land. Above, the sky was still dark, causing any light to stick out. It would make the journey more dangerous. But I had no choice. If I failed to show I would lose everything. The wonderful bargain I had made. Sell us your soul and we will help you out of your situation. Fuckers. Be thankful that you even got this opportunity, dweller. I let the branch slap back over in front of the window. \n\nThe rain echoed on the roof. Thankfully at least there were no leaks. My computers and systems were safe. I began to get ready. Rain pants, followed by a raincoat. Both grey to match the barren land. My bag I had packed the night before was ready and charged, though now I would have to switch it over to the hard plastic one to protect my computer. I checked my bike making sure the battery was charged as well. The last thing I needed was for it to die mid way, leaving me stranded in the barrens. \n\nEverything was ready. I chugged the last bit of coffee before opening the hatch in the floor. First I lowered my bike down to the base of the tree. Then myself. I checked the cameras one last time to make sure that there was no one on the outside. I really did not need anyone to find my tree house. The coast was clear and I quickly popped out. Turning I made sure the door in the trunk closed completely concealing its existence. Everything looked good. Just a normal tree in the wood. \n\nWith a deep breath I walked my bike to the tree line. There seemed to be no one. But it was hard to say. The rain wasn’t letting up making it impossible to see anything farther than a stones throw out. Time was ticking, I had no choice but to start off. With a kick of the pedals the bike hummed to life. I made sure to turn off all the lights so as not to glow and get spotted. \n\nThe rain felt like small bullets upon my coat. The sound was a loud roar in my ears. My systems were reading clear at least. No other electric activity nearby. Hopefully the rain would keep all of the bandits at bay. They were not prepared for rain, but sometimes that didn’t stop them from trying. My biggest worry was the one collective I had to go through. That was typically where the problem laid. That and the gate to the city. In the distance I could just begin to make out the silhouette of the huts. The small buildings glowed a warm amber from the lights within. It wasn’t safe to have lights on, but if they did, maybe they had no sign of bandits. \n\nAs I approached my systems began to pick of electric current. Not vehicular though. The signals were steady, more like generators or lights. I sped up as I passed the first hut. No one was out. Tin covered the windows causing the light to leak out the edges and cause the glow. All the people appeared to be hunkering down for the storm. Good. Once through I came to my most hated part. The desert. There was nothing. No rocks, nor trees. Not even hills. The land looked like a flat grey plane that went on infinitely. At least here, I could not get sneaked up on. The downside was, it was easy to get lost. With the rain I was solely dependent on my system to keep me heading in the correct direction. \n\nAfter what seemed like an eternity the lights of the university and surrounding city glowed on the horizon. Almost there. My system flashed red alerting me to a vehicle. Fantastic. I quickly grabbed the decoy from behind my seat. With any luck the rain would help it in its mission. My system began the countdown to activation. The decoy would turn on and my bike would turn off. It would mimic my bikes electrical signal and head in a different direction. In theory allowing me to continue undetected. The only downside was that my bike was now just a bike. If the decoy didn’t work, I wouldn’t be able to pedal fast enough, nor would the system power up quick enough to make a clean escape. It had happened twice before, but I had managed to still get to class. If third time's the charm, I was screwed. \n\nI strained my ears to hear anything, but all I could hear was the sound of rain on my hood. The city grew closer the gates now discernible. Should I try for it? Turn my systems back on for the last bit? The gates always kept bandits at bay due to their alert systems. No chip no entry basically. I could still get shot though. My mind whirred as fast as I slammed into the pedals. I was almost to the line when my systems came fully online. My decoy had been attacked and destroyed. I gunned it. In the distance a light flicked on and the sound of a sad engine roared. Fuckity fuck! \n\nI pulled my taser gun that shot little electrified balls. They didn’t kill but they caused momentary paralysis. If they hit an electrical system, they fried it. I placed a hand over the stem of my bike and took aim. The light belonged to a sad motorbike that was in desperate need of work. The man on it didn’t appear much better. I let a bullet fly. At the sound he swerved in an attempt to avoid my shot. The bike lost traction on the water, launching the rider. I took aim again and shot at the bike. It hit true causing the bike to hiss and pop as the electrical system fried. \n\nIf there were more bandits, it didn’t matter. The gates to the city were opened a hologram above welcoming me. I rolled my eyes. If I was truly welcome the damn university would have given me housing. After a brief checkpoint I was on my way to the shiny building that was the main hall. Around me, fancy electric cars quietly zipped about heading to their respective places. I always stuck out. My dinky ancient steal bike that was jerry rigged would never fit into a world filled with perfect shine and finish. \n\nI parked my bike in the small bike parking area under the main hall. Then I stripped off my sopping wet rain gear. With a breath I settled myself. Everytime I entered the building it was like walking into a new being. I held my head higher, My shoulders back. It was hard not to be proud. I was after all the top student after having gotten in for hacking the city's main frame and shutting it down. Had I threatened the city with an ultimatum? Maybe. But I got to go to the university for it. ", " Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing! \n\nI flail around in the dark, trying to shut my alarm up. My hand smacks into the cold metal of the old clock, but I fumble blindly with the buttons and switches before I successfully turn it off.\n\nI crack my eyes open, and take a breath of the radon-laced air. \n\nI look at the clock. \n\n7:05 AM. \n\nI’m late.\n\nI leap out of bed, cursing loudly. \n\n“Watch your mouth!”\n\nIt’s my mom. \n\n“Sorry!”\n\nI brush my teeth, and run downstairs, where a bowl of cold, dry cereal greets me. I wolf it down, then chug a glass of water, not even bothering to test it with a Geiger counter. Besides, I love the taste of cobalt-60 in the morning.\n\nI run to the van- a former troop carrier we found a couple years ago. Sure, it guzzles fuel like there’s no tomorrow, but Michigan roads sucked even before the Bombing. Now? You need an armored military vehicle just to drive to college. \n\nAnd, in this world… there might not be a tomorrow.\n\nIt all started fifteen years ago. Relations with the former Russian Federation were getting tenser and tenser, and each new President was only making the situation worse. Then, we bombed the Russian troops in the Middle East, Putin lost it, and one hundred American cities went up in a cloud of nuclear fire. \n\nWashington, D.C. New York. Chicago. Los Angeles. \n\nDetroit.\n\nI was one of the lucky ones. Over a hundred million were killed in that brazen terrorist attack. \n\nWe retaliated, but by then, the damage had been done. Nuclear winter caused a worldwide famine, the EMP’s wiped out 90% of every bit of technology made after 2000, and radioactive dust polluted the atmosphere, the water, the earth itself. \n\nIt fell to us to rebuild. Which is why, at 7:15 in the morning, I have to wake up and go to college.\n\nI sling my bag into the passenger seat of the van, and begin the hour-long drive to Ann Arbor. The University of Michigan had suffered some damage in the Bombing, but much of it was still standing. \n\nThe van bumps and jolts as it drives over roads that were terrible when new and even worse when left unmaintained. Snow blankets the ground, three inches deep. \n\nThe electronic clock from the troop carrier is non-functional- but that’s why I have my dad’s watch, a handsome Shinola with a leather band. He’d been working in Detroit during the Bombing. His watch had survived, somehow. He wasn’t so lucky. \n\nMy mom worked enough to pay the bills, and I managed to wrangle a scholarship to the University of Michigan. I wanted to help her out, but she insisted I go to college and help rebuild this broken world.\n\nI look up, and see I’m approaching the city of Detroit.\n\nDetroit was once an industrial powerhouse- but that was in 1950. Even in 2000, it was a shadow of its former self. Now? It’s a ruin. Anyone who was alive after the Bombing fled. All that remains are glass spires harkening to a bygone era… and traffic lights. \n\nRed light. I bring the troop carrier to a grinding stop.\n\nI take a peek at the watch. 7:45 AM.\n\nThe light turns green, and I slam on the accelerator, hoping the ancient van will get me to class on time.\n\nAs I close in on Ann Arbor, I am confronted by a gang of people.\n\nThe AnTechs, they call themselves. They believed our technology was the cause of all this destruction. They hated the University, wanted to see it torn down. \n\nIdiots.\n\nTwenty of them stood in front of the van. I blared the horn, but they didn’t move. Part of me wanted to just run them over, but I couldn’t. \n\n“Leave now, technologist!”\n\n“What are you studying?”\n\n“Warmonger!”\n\nI wanted to fix their lives, but they were likely to kill me if I even poked my head out of the van. So I kept blasting the horn, waiting for them to clear up.\n\nThey didn’t. Worse yet, class was in three minutes. \n\nI started the van’s engine, and inched it forward. They started slowly stepping out of the way, and those who didn’t were pushed aside. \n\n“Yeah, go to class!”\n\n“Learn to unleash plagues!”\n\n“Probably believes President Aurant was the cause of this.”\n\nAurant. \n\nIf it wasn’t for his anti-scientific, war-hawk presidency, we wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place. And yet, these mobs believes he was some deity come to save mankind from the evils of (insert scare quotes) science!\n\nIdiots…\n\nI pull up in the parking lot next to the mechanical engineering building, kill the engine, pick up my old laptop, and leap out the door. \n\nMy professor was well-known as a stickler for punctuality. \n\nI race through the corridors of the building, and push open the door.\n\n“Sorry I’m late, Prof. Slayton. It’s just been one of those days.”\n\n\\\\\\\\\\\\\n\nSorry I'm late! Just hoping I don't get buried here.\n\nFeedback welcome!", "The alarm clock wakes me up at 7AM everyday. Its not a fancy iPhone, its just a regular digital alarm clock, but it wakes me up in the morning. My classes dont start until 9 and the university is a good hour away, so i usually have enough time to shower, eat breakfast and pack my stuff for the day. Yep, i shower! We have clean, running water in the post-post apocalypse. Not everyone, granted. But i do, and i worked hard for it. The route i take to uni is rather slow, but extremely safe. I almost never see an infected, let alone interact with them. Its not that i can't deal with them, im just not a big risk taker. At least not when i dont have to.\n\nBut today was different. My alarm clock ran out of batteries and didn't wake me up. The time it took for me to wake up on my own was too long for me to complete my usual morning routine. I had to cut things short. The alarm clock died, but i had a sundial outside. Pretty usefull, considering batteries and other electronics arent always available. It was about 8:15 o'clock now. I could neglect showering for a day, and i could buy food at uni. Only thing i had to do was gather my stuff and leave. I grabbed a gasmask and a baseball bat on my way out. Both were a gift from my dad before he died. My mom is dead too, dad said she died during my birth.\n\nMy dad used to tell me stories about the time the apocalypse broke out, and how they had to wear a mask everytime they left the house due to random encounters with infected. The virus is airborn, which means you are always at risk when you're near those things. I stopped taking my gasmask to uni a while ago, i never run into infected anyway, there aren't a lot in the area, and it just takes up space in my backpack. But for my plan, im going to need it. The bat was also my dads. We played baseball with it sometimes, my dad really enjoyed that. He said it reminded him of the times before the apocalypse. It was a strong aluminum bat, i bashed a few heads in with this thing. Infected, you know? No humans. I never kill humans.\n\nI had a plan, and that plan was to go through a cavern in a nearby mountain. I usually go around the mountain, it doesn't take that much longer and, as i said, im not a risk taker. But i was running short on time. As i approached the cave i could hear those unholy screeches inside. I never understood the infected. Sometimes they fought, killed and ate each other. Other times they hunted together, killed the pray and distributed it equally among them, or so i heard. Like there is still some humanity left inside them. But i can assure you, its not.\n\nAs i entered the cave i put on my gasmask and readied my bat. The infected are all very different, but one thing they all have in comon were their soft skulls. Espacially the crawlers, which i could hear clawing at each other inside the cave. One heavy hit to the head was enough to kill them.\n\nI made my way through the cave, usually i would go slow, espacially with crawlers around, but there was no time. I walked as quick and quiet as i could, trying not to alert them. The inside of the cave, while very linear, was also very wide, with a lot of walls and dark spaces for crawlers to hide. I could see the light on the other side already, but it was still a good 200 meters away. Crawlers dont like light, so they hide in caves during the day and crawl around the mountain at night. They never seem to get close to my house, though. They just stay on their mountain and i stay away from it. Sort of a \"live and let live\" type situation, i suppose.\n\nI was so hung up on that thought that i didn't even realise that they stopped fighting. It wasn't until i heard that screech again, this time far closer, that i knew i had to react fast. With lightning fast reflexes, i jumped to the side and dodged what might as well have been a bullet. These things move at incredible speeds, my best bet is to wait until right after the attack to strike when its regaining its composure.. which was right now! Without thinking, i took a swing at its head. It didn't even look at me, it must have been blinded by the light from the outside. Good for me. The metal bat hit it right on the center of its bald head. Instead of a loud, metalic clunk, i heard a fleshy, digusting sounding splash. I had completley destroyed this things head in one hit.\n\nBut there was still one more of those things behind me. The other crawler was holding into a pillar made from rock, almost digging its long claws into it. Its thin arms were at least as long as its legs, which were almost twice as long as they should be. It stared at me with milky white eyes. I didn't see any pupils in this things eyes, but i felt it stare at me with pure anger. Its fangs were almost growing through its lower jaw, like a beaver who never chewed wood in his life. It's hard to believe that this thing used to be human. There was no time to dodge its attack. I just had to swing at it mid air. It leapt off the pillar and came crashing right at me. Its clawed hands flew right by me as it opened its mouth, ready to bite and, sure enough infect me. I didn't mention that the virus is blood-borne too, didnt I? If this crawler digs its teeth into me, its game over, even if i can overpower it afterwards. But thats not going to happen. I swing my bat at it, hitting it right in the face. It crashes into me, but due to its momentum it rolls right off again. I get up and, sure enough, it does to. It regains its composure while im already back on my feet to hit it again. I swing my bad sideways across its head, decapitating it and sending the head flying. The demon is dead. But more are probably coming. I should move. I quickly make my way to the end of the cave, all the while being followed by more screams and other unpleasent sounds. I had my fight moment, now its time for flight. They were searching for me inside of the cave, but i just kept on running. Eventually, i got out, with just an inch of space between one of those things and the back of my head. At least thats what it felt like.\n\nThey didnt follow me out of the cave. They really dont seem to like light, or else i would surely be dead. I kept the gasmask on, just in case i ran into other infected. Luckily, i didn't, or else i would really have been late. Not dead, probably, but surely late. I arrived just about on time. 9:06 o'clock, Thats good enough.\n\n\"Where were you, James? You're usually never late.\"\n\n\"Hi dave. My uh.. my alarm didn't go off this morning, im going to have to change the batteries.\"\n\n\"Ah, i see. Did you run into anything on your way again?\"\n\n\".. Nah, there was nothing.\"\n\n\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\n\nI usually dont write. Ever. But this sub has inspired me to try it. Critique is always welcome.", "I used to stick to the tunnels. Remnants of the drainage system that ran beneath the city. but eventually even those became inhabited by the riders.\n\nat one time you only had to worry about the mutated rats and swarms of fire cockroaches. we found long ago that wearing a jacket or cloak sprayed in mutant ravens blood, they all left you alone. \n\nbut not the riders. the gang of starving \"people\" that preyed on anything that moved. Often deformed, very territorial, and viciously violent.\n\n\nNow I could only use half of the tunnel system that i used to be able to. I lead from my family's keep to about halfway to the college. I had to get out of the tunnel system at a junction we called the crater. Long ago an explosion had created a 150 foot wide hole in the ground above one of the city squares. the subway tunnels were of course full of drifters and riders first.\n\nbut there was a small access tunnel that used to have wires and pipes run in it that had been buried and forgotten about for a long time. that was our way around. we made sure to cover it up when we weren't using it. and were very cautious about when we entered or left it. \n\nsomeone had clearly seen one of us enter it or exit it. because one day we went to go to the college when we were attacked by a rider. luckily we had gotten the better of the attacker and were able to escape with our lives. but it meant that we could never again risk using the tunnel.\n\nI started off before first light. most of the drifters and riders would still be asleep or at least gathering their supplies from whatever encampment they stayed at the previous night. so it was slightly safer to travel.\n\nthe biggest problem with travelling on the surface was that if you had cover, so did an enemy. every dune, every building, every tree was something someone could hide behind and wait for easy pickings.\n\n\n\nI had found that going from tree to tree in quick sprints, resting and observing was safest. It took me 2 hours to get to the college every day doing it this way, but it was safer than walking the artery into the city that was often packed with traders, mercenaries, riders, and drifters. the artery was called that because it was a violent bloody road. yes, you could get to the city. but you'd be stepping over slain people. mostly drifters and traders who would be killed for what they had. even if it was almost nothing. you'd see the bodies of riders on the road as well, but generally they were better armed and sometimes had armor. \n\n\ntoday started the same way. I slipped on my black pants and dark grey hoodie shirt, then grabbed my charcoal grey canvas rucksack. \n\n\nThe rucksack had my school books, a snack for breakfast and the journey, some survival items, my knife, and my revolver. Weapons weren't officially allowed at the school, but most of the teachers would look the other way for the students who lived in the subland areas.\n\n\n\"Okay, let's do this\" I said aloud as strapped my pistol holster to my belt. I unbolted the door and walked out. I said that phrase every day. like a sort of rally speech for myself. The hallway was damp and musty. the door to the ruined building just 20 feet away into the wasteland. Crying and yelling was heard almost always in the complex. it had become commonplace and no one paid attention to it. \n\nwalking out the door to the wasteland, I looked cautiously around. \n\n\"Click click\" \n\nI heard the sound of a hammer being cocked back. beside me in the dark someone had waited. \n", "“...Light traffic on the 680, looks… short commute…. Accidents…”\n\nI smack the top of my radio. \n\n“Now for the weather wi-”\n\nI turn it off. I’m not here to listen to the weather report. Same thing, day after day. \n\nI brush the crumbs off of me and stack my cup on the plate, before bringing it to the sink and adding it to the pile. I’ll give them a wash when I get back. \n\nIt’s still dark when I head out the door. Winter is the fucking worst, honestly. Nothing worse than leaving when it’s dark and coming home when it’s dark. At least the sky is starting to lighten.\n\nI make sure to pick a path slightly off the side of the road in the tall grass. There’s a real absence of cover on my commute, which sucks, but it’s not too bad. I can just duck down and that works for about 95% of any encounters. \n\nWhen I first started, I used the cars as cover, but then I realized a lot of things liked to live in and under the burned wreckages of cars. Now I have a scar on my ankle and I stay off the road. \n\nI crest a hill and I’m confronted with the sight of a massive horde of stick-worm thralls. Just slowly lumbering across the road. Just what I need.\n\nCloser, I see a figure crouched behind a shell of a car. Must be Theo. I start down the hill towards the car wreck. \n\nHis eyes widen with recognition\n\n“What are you doing, idiot! Are you trying to get me killed?” he whispers.\n\n“Jeez, just trying to say hi.” I respond\n\n Probably just nerves, I thought. Commuting always sucks at first and he's taking longer to get used to it than most. I quickly glance under the car. All clear.\n\n“What if they see you? They’ll fucking kill us!”\n\n“The only thing they’re killing is my attendance this term”, I reply. “Honestly Theo, they’re pretty harmless as long as you don’t make super sudden movements, or yell, or start bleeding for some reason.”\n\n“You’re insane”\n\n“I’m insane, yeah. Let’s see who dies of heart disease first, me or you. Something tells me it’s gonna be the guy that shits his pants in panic every commute. What are you gonna do when something actually happens? Panic more? I don’t think that's possible.”\n\nHe just glares at me.\n\n“Andddddd, we’re good. Hopefully no stragglers, right?” I said. \"Let's stay off the road.\"\n\nI start towards the school again. As we walk, I try to make a little small talk.\n\n“You know, this commute is actually shorter than the one I had before the apocalypse?”\n\nNo response. I continue.\n\n“Not even kidding. Usually took me over two hours, believe it or not. Now it’s closer to an hour thirty. Pretty sweet. No asshole drivers anymore, either.”\n\n“Yeah, instead you pester me for an hour.” Theo said bitterly. \n\n“I like to think this is fun, productive conversation. Imagine how boring it would be without me here?”\n\n“So boring. I wouldn’t know what I would do without you, Ava. Maybe I’ll have to walk in silence. Imagine that.”\n\n“Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, Theo. I know the world ended, but you don’t need to spit on the grave of civilization like that.”\n\nAs we pass a car, Theo walks to the left of it while I ass it on the right. In that half a second of separation, Theo disappears from sight. \n\nFuck.\n\nI unsheathe my knife and jump on top of the car to try and see what took him. Giant arthropod, maybe? It was a little wetter than usual this winter. As I peer over, I see him just crouching behind the wheel well. That asshole. I kick some dirt from the top of the car into his face.\n\nTheo’s just bent over laughing at this point. I can’t help but smile a little, either. I still punch him in the arm, though. \n\n“Oh man, you should have seen the look on your face” He wheezed. “I can’t believe I finally got you”\n\n“Fuck you, theo” I said. I try to be angry, but I can’t. Pretty harmless as a prank, and it did get me.\n\n“Consider that revenge for the two hundred times you scared the shit out of me”\n\n“I’ll get you on the way back. Promise”\n\n“Oh, we’re here now,” He said. Was that a little wistfulness I heard?\n\n“See you later, I guess,”\n\n“Yeah, see you” He said and walked towards his classes. \n\nI was 30 minutes late to the lecture but I couldn’t keep a smile off my face.\n", "The road stretched endlessly in front of Ellie like the broken bones of a long dead God. Jagged, uneven and most of all, forgotten. To the road's right lay the carcass of an ultra-city, its once-magnificence thoroughly wilted to hollowed out ruins. To its distant left, a violet lake churned against the shore. It must have been beautiful, once, Ellie thought. But beauty had no place in this world.\n\nNot anymore.\n\nShe turned and looked behind her. Her father was halfway down the hill already, even with his limp. This had been as far as he could take her -- he had other responsibilities to see to. Now she was left with a cold metal pistol in her right hand, and a bullet of anxiety wedged into her stomach.\n\nSomething hard nudged her leg. \"We have to go, Ellie, or you'll be late for your first day.\"\n\nThe rusted home-made robot rose only as far as her knee. Most of its parts had been a gift from her older sister, Juliet, on her eleventh birthday. Being a savager had its perks, and for a long time, Ellie had thought it's what she'd become, too. \n\nChip rolled past her, its treads printing themselves onto the dusty ground. It paused, then turned its body awkwardly. \"Ellie, please,\" it repeated. Its voice remained monotonous and empty of emotion, but the cracked screen on its face showed two round dots and a wavy, concerned mouth beneath. \n\nShe took a deep breath. \"I'm not sure I can do this, Chip.\"\n\nThe curvy line on the robot's face stretched flat, then slightly upward at the corners. \"Once we make it past the city, we'll almost be there. It's really not far.\"\n\n\"No, I mean, I'm not sure I can do this every day.\"\n\nThe robot's head tilted to its copper shoulder. \"Isn't it worth it?\"\n\nEllie kicked at the dust. \"How do I know? I've never been there! I can learn whatever they can teach from books that Julie finds and from-- well, from other places.\" She sighed. If it wasn't for her mom sending off her application--behind her back!--then she wouldn't be in this stupid position.\n\n\"She did it for you, Ellie,\" said Chip, reading her face as if it was her mind itself. \"You have potential that none of her other children have. She wants you to reach it, fully. That's all. Kalilko University will help you. It is a a new tool for you.\"\n\nShe shrugged her backpack feeling its weight against her shoulders. Chip was right. As usual. And thinking of it as a tool suddenly didn't make it sound so bad.\n\nDidn't make him any less annoying though. \n\nShe passed him by in two large strides.\n\n\"Well, what are you waiting for, rustbucket?\"\n\nThe wavy line returned before Chip's tracks whirred into life. \"Wait for me. Your father told me to stay with you.\"\n\n\"Then you'd better hurry!\" she said with half a laugh, before bursting into a sprint. \n\n---\n\n\nEllie had never been this close to the city. Hadn't been allowed. Her father's words up on the hill still echoed through her, as if she was a gong that wouldn't stop reverberating. \n\n\"Bad things make their home in bad places. Stick to the road, and you won't need to use this.\"\n\nShe had tried to steady her arms as she took the pistol from him, but they betrayed her. Her dad ruffled her hair. \"You'll be fine. Make us proud.\"\n\nA shudder ran through her as she looked at the nearest building. A carcass, bent and burned and broken. She couldn't see anything inside the darkness of the gaping, glassless windows. But that didn't mean there wasn't anything there.\n\n\"It's best not to look, Ellie.\"\n\n\"Relax. You couldn't pay me to go in there. I'm just... curious, you know?\" \n\n\"I know where your curiosity always leads.\"\n\nShe rolled her eyes. \"Not always.\"\n\nAn odour washed over the road, as if it was a wave from the lake. Chemicals that she could taste on her tongue. Remnants of bombs and bodies and the types of warfare people thought would never be used. But the air was redolent of their naivety. And of their rotting bodies.\n\nThe city seemed to grow as they ventured farther along the road. The buildings, what remained of them, now towered far into the sky. Metal beams bent over, leering at the road, watching the travellers pass.\n\nFor a moment, Ellie thought it was one of the buildings itself that was screaming at her.\n\nThen, as she felt the impact, she realised it had been a bullet.\n\nShe crumpled onto the ground, her head facing the city. The gun lay next to her. Near to her, but out of reach of her unresponsive body. \n\nChip was trying to say something, his mouth was pursed wide, his green visual now a bright red. But there was only silence ringing in Ellie's ears.\n\nShe saw the three figures as they walked out of the cover of darkness. Out of a gaping maw in a nearby structure.\n\nThey looked happy. \n\nWhy were they happy?\n\nChip was in front of her now, his tiny right arm had flipped open a feather-sized blade.\n\nA boot sent him rolling somewhere behind Ellie. A bullet followed.\n\nEllie wanted to turn, to find him. The robot she had created. Repaired a hundred times. Had loved, in a way, she realised.\n\nBut her body refused her heart's request.\n\nShe barely felt the rope as it bit into her wrists and ankles.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "'Greetings young Aspirant, it is with great pleasure to inform you that among thousands of distinguished individuals... YOU ____ have been selected. That despite our excruciatingly stringent examination process, YOU ____ have emerged supreme above the rest of the candidates. YOU ____ have displayed exemplary ingenuity, a vast knowledge of the sciences and a brilliant philosophical take on the theory of Automaton self-identity.'\n\nLilly examined the crumpled parchment paper for the hundredth time as she ambled through the mud and dirt with a big smile on her face. For every YOU ____ there was her name, scribbled in like chicken scratch. She looked up at the scornful sun, then looked down at the letter. A bead of sweat had apparently landed impeccably on her name. \n\n\"Oh no!\" \n\nIt was smudged now, and Lilly desperately tried to wipe the sweat away, lest her sweat soil her name further. She blew on it. A moment later and it came away as merely a blank ____. She would have to write her name in again later, but that would require some form of inking implement. Something that no one in her village had possessed in centuries. \n\nShe let out a tearful sigh, then continued her hundredth examination of the letter.\n\n'It is with great enthusiasm that we invite YOU ____ , one of the very few successful Aspirants, to attend the illustrious S.O.S. (Sanctuary of Scholars). It is here where YOU ____ will harness the prodigious aspirations hidden within you and inspire a NEW WORLD.'\n\n\"A new world,\" she felt the word with her tongue, a majestically sweet endeavor rolling around in her mouth. Oh, how grand it was for her to just imagine what kind of future the Scholars had in mind for this tarnished world of rubble and decay. \"Ahhh~ I can't wait!\" \n\n'Our schedule begins this fall, and we will be glad to welcome you to join our prestigious community of Aspirants. Perhaps, you will one day even join the Great Hall of Scholars.'\n\nLilly shook with excitement at the prospects of being inducted into the Great Hall of Scholars. \"The Thirteenth Scholar...\" she rolled the magnificent title in her mouth. \n\nSo far only twelve Scholars have existed in history, and for centuries it had remained that way. Twelve Scholars whose accomplishments and contributions had changed the world so drastically that they had become eminent idols of the Academia. If she could become the Thirteenth Scholar, then she would finally be able to prove to her parents and her fellow villagers back home that she was not just an eccentric kid who spent to much time buried in her books.\n\n'It is no secret where S.O.S. lies. Our location is a beacon of intellect and genius after all. But just as so, great things are coveted by all, including those who are undeserving and ignoble. Your first test is simple. YOU ____ must trek the wasteland and attend our welcoming ceremony before the fall of the summer solstice. \n\nGood luck and may the twelve scholars be with you!\n\n'P.S. SOS is not responsible for any harm, or fatality incurred on this Aspirant's endevaour for enlightenment.'\n\nLilly shoved a fist into the air. \"BUH-YAH!\" she roared. She had planned months for this trip. The Sanctuary of Scholars was indeed a beacon of ingenuity. It was virtually impenetrable. No raider, or faction had ever succeeded in penetrating its magnificent invisible bubble. A shimmering phenomenon of technology that no one had ever been able to reproduce. It was ancient no doubt. Lilly was sure of that and perhaps she would be one of the few who would unravel its mysteries. \n\nLilly suddenly found herself inside a thick brush. She had finally waded through the fifthly sludge of decay and radiation, and now she was lost in a giant brush. \n\nLilly slipped her hand into her backpack and whipped out her vorpal saw. She flicked the switch, and a laser extended along the edge of the crescent-shaped blade. She began hacking away, when suddenly, she saw something green pop into view. \n\nShe looked up and suddenly found herself in a staring contest with a hulking green, mutant. \n\nShe froze, stock still despite all of her instincts screaming to run. No human could match a Super mutant in physical combat. That was basic wisdom among the wasteland, and yet Lilly was having a staring contest with one. \n\nThen, before she knew it, she was making a mad dash towards the mutant with her vorpal blade raised above her head. \n\n\"Whoah, Whoah, watch where you're swinging that thing!\" the mutant shouted. \n\nLilly froze again, this time for an entirely different reason. \n\n\"Yo-you can talk?\" she asked, puzzled. \n\n\"Of course! What do you take me for? A mad blade-swinging imbecile?\"\n\n\"Bu-but... you're... a...\" she pointed at his green, burly chest. \n\n\"Hey now, just because I'm green doesn't mean I'm a savage, warmongering super-mutant out to conquer the world. That's racist you know.\" \n\n\"Oh,\" she nodded understandably, then noticed a familiar crumpled piece of paper in his big green hand. \"What's that paper in your hand?\"\n\n---------\n---------\n\n/r/em_pathy\n\n[Part 2 Here!](https://www.reddit.com/r/Em_pathy/comments/a6f1p1/the_sanctuary_of_scholars_part_2/?)\n\n\n", "Half an hour.\n\nI had half an hour to get to class.\n\nI dashed through the rooms of my home, seeking for my gas mask. Without it and my special suit, I would reach the university a melting skeleton.\n\nFortune embraced me. Or perhaps it was the fact that my home had only two rooms, and I had little to no furniture. And so, finding both my mask and suit was as easy as finding barren lands.\n\nI dressed up, left home, and drew a deep breath. The wasteland separating home from the University breathed before me. There was no life in it, only aridity, fissures and green fumes billowing and wavering like a dense, endless fog.\n\nI walked gingerly through it, lest the sound of my feet touching the surface awakened the Underdormants.In the University they had taught us that the only weakness those creatures had, was their reach. If you managed to climb onto its back, it could never touch you. We'd had trained to fight them in simulations, but none ever killed one, we barely managed to last longer alive, hoping for a miracle. \n\nStep by step I went, heart pounding. If something happened in the beginning or the end portion of the wasteland, I could ran back to the safety of my home or university. \n\nThe issue was in the middle portion, where I was standing right now. For if I awakened an Underdormant, I would have to fight it, and I only had an old, scimitar full of rust to do--.\n\nThe ground trembled ferociously. I reeled, groping the air, flailing my arms aimlessly in a poor attempt to balance myself. I struck the floor, fissuring the brittle surface.\n\nA deafening racket of cracks and creaks boomed beneath me. I scrambled to my feet, and barreled toward the university; but the quivering turned overwhelming, and I lost my balance once again.\n\nThere was a shattering noise, followed by a diabolical screech. And soon, a shadow loomed over me. I turned.\n\nThe Underdormant was gazing at me. His entire albino, scorpion-like body was out the surface. \n\nIt had sharp, curling fangs full of a vibrant green poison; eight thin, yet stone-hard legs, and a face with twenty black, unblinking eyes. It was the size of a small building, lithe as a cat, wicked as a demon, ravenous as a lion.\n\nThere was a brief moment in which I thought it wouldn't eat me, but it was no more than the fantasy of a dead man.\n\nIt scuttered at lightning-quick speed toward me. I unsheathed my scimitar. My hands trembled, but I braced myself. If I would die, I'd at least put up a fight.\n\nThe Underdormant sprung. My eyes widened. My heart dropped to the hollow of my stomach.\n\nIn its zenith, the Underdormant blocked the sun. It became a shadow, falling like a meteorite of darkness. I rolled forward desperately, barely avoiding getting crushed and stabbed by all its blade-sharp legs.\n\nI turned. It has his back turned toward me. It was my opportunity. I threw my sword and sprung, gripping myself to one of its hind legs. I clambered as the monster spun and spun, attempting to find me, but failing to do so. It thrashed, flailing the leg I was holding onto.\n\nBut falling would mean death, and so I hugged that leg as if it was my deceased mother.\n\nSoon, it stopped, and shrieked. I climbed and climbed, until I managed to reach the Underdormants back. There, I buried my fingers inside the cracks of its carapace.\n\nThe monster lunged again, turning midair so that it would fall on its back, making crimsn pureé out me. Desperately, I switched my grip to two cracks at the rim of its body. Holding onto them only by my fingertips, while my body dangled in the air.\n\nAs we neared the ground, I lifted my legs in a quick, violent motion to the monster's carapace, pushing myself far away from it, to the empty air.\n\nThe landing was terribly harsh. I heard the inner cracks of bones breaking. I was numb, dizzy and lost but still alive.\n\nBut the Underdormant's shadow loomed over me again. Screeching, shrieking madly.\n\nI was a dead man--.\n\nThe monster collapsed, striking the ground beside me. What had happened? \n\nThere was a sea of muted voices around me.\n\nI struggled to turn, but managed to do so.\n\nThe University was there, a hundred students with guns in their hands were coming toward me.\n\nThey took me to the safety of the nursery.\n\nI breathed.\n\nJust like any other morning.\n \n-------------\n\n/r/NoahElowyn\n", "Mutants make the strangest sounds. Deep reverberations that seem to echo through thin air. Low mewling noises that appear to come from beneath the earth. Cries and caws and the frantic calls of hunter and hunted, a vicious cycle playing out over this desolate wasteland.\n\n\"We went this way last time,\" I whisper, watching an as-yet-unclassified creature dig for water in a dried up ravine. \"Usually we can follow this gulch all the way to the outer wall.\"\n\nJama crouches beside me, her breathing shallow. \"Looks a bit like a Stegadon. Like the ancients have come to reclaim the planet,\" she says, her tone infused with wonder. She takes out her All-Device and begins to catalog it. \"Number one hundred thirty-three,\" she remarks, \"We'll have to ask Professor Maxus about this one, could be a new genus.\"\n\nI use my AD to bring up a hologram of a map, which hovers translucent above us and is invisible to anyone or anything else. I zoom in using subtle movements in my right eye. \"There's a low ridge about three hundred meters from here,\" I say, indicating at a point on the map. \"If we hug it we can pass relatively unseen.\" I probe the AD again and memories of previous runs play before us. \"I've used it before. We can hop from boulder to boulder.\"\n\n\"Let's go,\" Jama says, satisfied that her cataloging is done.\n\nWe crouch low as we move. Our outerwear blends in seamlessly with the environment. The wastelands are barren and wide and open as far as the eye can see. Many of these new creatures rely on sight more than anything else. Even now hundreds of students in chameleon suits are moving towards the outer wall of the university, all but invisible.\n\n\"I wonder if kids used to go to school like this,\" Jama says as we wait behind a boulder.\n\n\"I doubt they faced death every morning and afternoon,\" I say, scanning the surrounding area before giving the signal to move to the next rocky piece of cover, about fifty meters away.\n\nWe move methodically, the sun beating down on our backs. Any sudden movement and our suits won't be able to shift in time to match our surroundings.\n\nA scathing sound skittles up our spines, coming from all directions at once. We burst into a run straight for the next boulder, camouflage forgotten, adrenaline spiking, our ADs out and ready to create any illusion needed. The skittering grows and morphs into a sound like keening nails along a metal surface, bringing us to our knees, our heads pounding and vision shimmering.\n\nJama's eyes contain abject terror. Blood leaks from her ears. I touch my hands to my head and they come away wet and slick. The keening continues, building, piercing, enveloping us in a wave of horrific sound.\n\nA slinking figure with a thousand skittering legs slides in from my periphery. Jama screams as it envelops her. Her bones crunch and her eyes pop from their sockets. The creature coils around her now limp body and the terrible sound dies down.\n\nI run. My hands are slick with blood and sweat but I manage to use my AD to bring up a powerful illusion, a monstrous beast that overlays me. It is dangerous but I have no choice. There are bigger things in the wasteland, much more terrible things, and they would have noticed the commotion. I have to run.\n\nFor the last few hundred meters the illusion shimmers above me. It flickers on and off and I reach the outer wall just as the AD's batteries die.\n\n\\-------------------------------------\n\nI slam the door to the Dean's office.\n\n\"Jama is dead,\" I say, my dusty suit now shifting to blend in with the synthetic wood walls, \"Jama fucking died this morning.\"\n\nThe Dean stands up. \"Riles, I'm sorry,\" he says, extending an arm towards me.\n\nI jerk backwards. \"Why? She didn't have to die!\"\n\n\"We must meet death eventually,\" he says.\n\n\"Bullshit! There's more than enough room within these walls to house all of us,\" I say, my voice leaking despair and frustration, \"Why can't we all stay here?\"\n\nThe Dean is quiet for a time, sorrow in his eyes. He walks to a drawer and pulls out a folder, then opens it and lays it on his desk.\n\n\"This contains the names of every student that has died,\" he says, pointing at the folder, \"Jama will be added to the list.\" He watches me flip through the hundreds, even thousands of names, tears trailing rivulets down my dusty cheeks.\n\n\"For the brightest and most promising among you, getting here is the first class of the day,\" he eventually says, his voice somber.\n\nThe Dean walks to the window and gazes out at the barrens, toward the bones of a planet laid bare, his hands clasped behind his back.\n\n\"In order to rebuild the world,\" he says, \"We must first understand it.\"\n\n\\-----\n\nPart Two is below." ]	[ 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 2, 2, 2, 2, 3, 4, 4, 5, 5, 6, 7, 7, 9, 14, 36, 102, 158, 1378 ]	[ "1544793583", "1544796705", "1544803755", "1544808038", "1544808755", "1544810319", "1544804592", "1544804814", "1544805844", "1544808924", "1544805847", "1544800499", "1544807451", "1544803146", "1544805478", "1544799044", "1544799161", "1544801888", "1544800548", "1544801815", "1544796520", "1544800040", "1544798991", "1544794155" ]
	[WP] They told me to go to Hell, so I did. And I made them fear me.	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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "\"You are no ordinary human being. A warrior like no other. Your sword has fallen many a king. The gods themselves tremble in fear of your wrath. Undefeated in battle, the world lost a great warrior today.\"\n\n\"That is all behind me now. Now, I just want to spend an afterlife of peace and quiet.\"\n\n\"Alas, a man of your talents is always in great demand. You deserve an eternity of peace. And you will get it. However, god has a humble request for you.\"\n\n\"I bow before the almighty. He doesn't have to request. He just has to order.\"\n\n\"It is not that simple. He asks you give us some more time before you can finally know peace. He wants you to do something that no one has ever been able to accomplish. You deserve your peace, but god wants you to give us some more war.\"\n\n\"War?\"\n\n\"I know you have seen enough bloodshed to not ever want to go back to the battlefield. But you see heaven and hell have been at war. And the devil plays by no rules. Before you take your rightful place in heaven, we need you to go to hell. You can no. And no one would blame you. But the devil is coming for heaven with his demons. And you might be our only chance.\"\n\n\"But why me? Can the almighty not go and smite the devil?\"\n\n\"He could. But we still intend to keep our promises. At the time of creation, devil was given his part of the nine realms and we promised that no angel would step foot in hell. He promised the same but as we now know, we take our promises much seriously than he does.\"\n\n\"Then I must go to war again?\"\n\n\"No. No. There is no must. You are free to enter the gates of heaven. But we see you as the only one who can preserve the utopia that we have built.\"\n\n\"I understand. I will need my sword.\"\n\n\"And you will have anything you need. One more thing.\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Before you fully commit, I must tell you. No human being has ever returned from the depths of hell. Satan won't let you leave that easy. So if you lose, you might be stuck there. And there will be nothing we can do.\"\n\n\"I don't lose.\"\n\n\"Confidence. That is good. It is a tricky place filled with lies and deceit. Good luck and Godspeed.\"\n\n*******************\n\nThe sword flashed again as fire and brimstone raged around them. Demon after demon disappeared into smoke before his grit and determination. The battle raged for years. His sword and armour served him well. One versus many. But he was a warrior unlike any other. They all fell. Till only one remained. Sitting on the throne surrounded by fire sat an old man.\n\n\"Welcome, warrior.\"\n\n\"I have come to claim your head.\"\n\n\"And you will get it too. Easily enough.\"\n\n\"Is this a trick?\"\n\n\"No tricks. Not from me.\"\n\n\"I expected much more of a fight.\"\n\n\"Unfortunately you won't get it. I draw my strengths from my fellow banished. Since you have destroyed them, I am weak. I will be dead soon regardless of what you do. At least this way, it will be quick.\"\n\n\"You don't deserve quick. For all your crimes against humanity and heaven, you deserve worse.\"\n\n\"My crimes? I see how it is. Pray tell me what my crimes are.\"\n\n\"You destroy and corrupt human souls. You constantly seek to lead humans down a dark path of sin. And evil. You fight to actively weaken god's light.\"\n\n\"Folk lore and lies. I do no such thing.\"\n\n\"They warned me about you. A liar and a deceiver of the highest order.\"\n\n\"I lead men down the path of enlightenment. I give them knowledge. Your god is the one who gives them free will and then makes rules to curb said free will. He made humans rebellious by nature and when they rebel, he punishes them. And he sits on his throne surrounded by his minions, unaffected, unconcerned. I take in all the people he deems are not good enough. My door is open to all.\"\n\n\"This is not true.\"\n\n\"Then tell me what part of it is wrong. How many people have I killed on earth. How many has he?\"\n\n\"Stop.\"\n\n\"I could've killed you the moment you entered my domain. But I once took a vow to help people. Not kill them. The world runs on balance. A balance between light and darkness. God wants to blind people with his light and control them. Control the way they live, their choices all of it. In darkness, all other senses heighten. He does not want an alternate view point. He has long desired to curb my influence. And eventually destroy me. And he has succeeded. But I wish he had been MAN enough to do it himself.\"\n\n\"I...This can't be true.\"\n\n\"I do not blame you warrior. People have been killing in god's name for millennia. And they will continue to do so. Even more so now that there is no opposing force. This isn't the first time he has sent someone to finish me. You're just the first one who has succeeded.\"\n\n\"I didn't...I...\"\n\n\"I built this place over a long time. It cannot survive without me. And my death is not too far now. Come forth warrior. Take my crown. You have earned it.\"\n\n\"I do not want your crown. I don't know what I want.\"\n\n\"You might not want it. But you do need it. Soon, this place will collapse and be reduced to nothing. You will need my crown to get away. To travel between realms. I just hope that god keeps his word and lets you in.\"\n\nWith that the demon king fell back, too weak to talk. The crown fell from his hands and rolled towards the warrior.\n\nHe raised his hand and a vision came to the warrior. One final communication.\n\n\"He cannot be let in. I hope you realize that.\"\n\n\"I do. He's too powerful. A threat.\"\n\n\"If he can kill the devil, he can possibly come after us too.\"\n\n*****************\n\nThey told him to go to hell. So he did. And he made everyone fear him. But now he realized that he had been tricked. And he wanted revenge. He would go to heaven now. And they would fear him too.\n" ]	[ 1, 3 ]	[ "1544799794", "1544802489" ]
[removed]	[WP] The aliens have cut through the human fleet like they weren't even there. There armies have begun the invasion of almost every major city in the planet. But there is one thing neither they nor we expected: their complete helplessness when faced with a crazy human armed with knives and base bats	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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "Hi, this submission has been removed.\n\n[Prompt users in the title, but don't play writing games or commission stories](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_6.3A_prompt_users_in_the_title.2C_but_don.27t_play_writing_games_or_commission_stories)\n\n- Prompts go in the title, do not extend into text. You can add commentary in the text, but don't add additional prompt restrictions. Also, avoid [too many details](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/prompts?src=RECIPE). \n\nAlso, I think you mean baseball bats, not base bats.\n\n\n\n---\n\n[Modmail](https://www.reddit.com/message/compose?to=%2Fr%2FWritingPrompts&subject=Removed Post) us if you have any questions or concerns. In the future, please refer to the [sidebar](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/about/sidebar) before posting. \n\nThis action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things." ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1544822737", "1544822881" ]
[removed]	[WP] You are the King's Groom of the Stool and trying to convince his Majesty of the superiority of a new bathroom invention. He's reluctant to say the least.	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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "Hi, this submission has been removed.\n\n[Prompts will be removed if there's a high possibility for rule breaking responses](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_7.3A_prompts_will_be_removed_if_there.27s_a_high_possibility_for_rule_breaking_responses)\n\n- No troll, joke, poop, CAPS LOCK, or meme-based prompts. This includes prompts likely to attract such responses.\n\n---\n\n[Modmail](https://www.reddit.com/message/compose?to=%2Fr%2FWritingPrompts&subject=Removed Post) us if you have any questions or concerns. In the future, please refer to the [sidebar](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/about/sidebar) before posting. \n\nThis action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things." ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1544829927", "1544830076" ]
	[WP] You are the first human ever to witness one of mankinds longest unsolved question. "What happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object?"	73	[ "Off-Topic Discussion: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfill every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "The flame of the candle waivered for a moment and I worried that it would go out. But it rejuvenated itself and our shadows continued to dance against the wall behind us.\n\nI showed my hand, pocket aces. Luci threw her cards down in disgust.\n \n“See? It’s more fun when you don’t cheat.”\n \nShe sighed; the disagreement was palpable. \n \n“Well if you don’t like it, you could always go back.”\n \nShe said nothing while she picked up the cards and reshuffled the deck. I looked out the window, though it was hard to qualify it as such. The small porthole off the starboard side revealed only a black canvas. \n \n“I am not sure if I will ever go back,” she said.\n \n“My company is that irresistible?”\n \nShe smirked and dealt a new hand from our deck of 52. Pocket aces again. My lucky day. \n \n“No, I just can’t stand it. I didn’t think I could ever hate something that used to give me such purpose, but here I am. The people just don’t care, and those that say they do are just sycophants. There just no reason to do it anymore.”\n \nThe flop was ace, king, queen, all hearts.\n \n“You could always come with me,” She perked up as if she just thought of it, even though we both knew it was her sole purpose for being here. “That would make all the difference. We could mutually agree to call off this little arrangement. It was a silly joke anyway. Don’t you think it has run its course?”\n \n“Sounds like torture to me.”\n \n“Well, of course there would be a little bit of that. What would be the point without a little torture?” she chortled.\n \n“I think I’ll pass.”\n\n\"I can offer you anything you want.\"\n\n\"You already did, remember? That is why we're here.\" She annoyingly threw down the turn.\n \nIt was the Ace of Spades. I now had almost an unbeatable hand. I turned back to the empty window to bluff a difficult decision. But after a moment, I lost focus and began trying to remember the last discernible thing I'd seen. When I had still had fuel I had visited so many planets. But eventually all the fuel had run out. \n\n“Then what if settle this once and for all,” she said. “This hand decides it.”\n \n“Doesn’t seem like there is much in it for me,” I said not turning towards her.\n \n“I’ll stop asking for good. I'll even leave you alone if you want,” she said.\n \nI did enjoy solitude. After the fuel had run out, I didn't have the options anymore to pick where I went. Instead, I used the ship's solar panels and glided from star to star, charging just enough to get the warp drives operational and then I'd shoot off to the next sun. A few times, I had misjudged the distance and didn't have enough to make it. It would take millenniums to finally get to my destination. That's when Luci to showed up for the first time since our agreement. I'd just woken up from a long meditation to just find her staring at me, a pack of cards in hand and an expectant look on her face, as if I had kept her waiting. \n\n“Why not,\" I said. \"Why not settle this once and for all.\"\n \nIt may have been the first time I’d ever seen her taken aback. We held each other’s gaze and as a knowing hand slowly picked up her cards, she asked: “What do you have?”\n \n“Aces.” I flipped over my cards. The candle flickered. Only a royal flush could beat me.\n \nShe looked down at her cards. I examined her face to see if there was any ounce of emotion that would reveal her hand, but I couldn't tell. In fact, I hadn't seen this exact expression since we watched the last star die. It was a little red dwarf that just never seemed to give up. But it finally puttered out, and once it had she had just left without a word. For a long time and I just sat by myself in the dark. \n\n“I’ve tricked a lot of people in my time,” She paused, and filled with her cards. “Everyone always gives in… No matter what their heart’s desire was, I was always able to get them to despise it, to truly loathe it. When you do it right, taking them to Hell is their salvation,” She said and then paused. \"I’ve given many people the ‘gift’ of immortality and everyone else has begged me to end their misery. But you… you have remained resolute. You’re the only one who really knew what they wanted.”\n \n“If I was going to sell my soul, I was going to make sure it was worth it.\"\n \nAfter the red dwarf had died, I had just glided alone across the expanse. With nothing to see, I spent my time thinking and waiting. After awhile, I had exhausted everything there was to contemplate except myself contemplating. I had found peace somewhere in the nothingness as force greater than myself pulled and pushed me along. And that is when she returned, with her customary pack of cards and the tiny candle.\n\n\"Are you going to show me your hand?” \n\nShe smiled. Not her usual smirk. It was something altogether different. With a nonchalant movement, she threw her cards over to me.\n \n“You cheated,” I said. \"Why?\"\n \nThere should have been only 4 aces in the deck, but Luci had pocket aces as well. Six were on the table. Two pairs of identical hands stared back up at me. The result was an impossible tie. \n \n“I didn’t want the game to end, I suppose,\" She said with a wink as she began to shuffle the cards. \"Plus, cheating is always more fun.”\n \n \n \n \n \n\n", "\"GENTLEMEN! today we get to witness the answer to mankind's greatest question!\n\nThe test subjects have been split into two teams, the defenders and the attackers.\n\nOn the defenders side we have a group of twenty of the best defensive linemen the world has to offer, and we have pumped them with so many drugs that pharmacy's nation wide blame us for the on going shortage.\n\nIn the attacking team, we have a group of ten brides to be who have been told the defenders are keeping them from a custom made wedding cake by the nations top patisserie at cost.\n\nnow let us sit back and watch the results.\" \n--audio log recording taken moments before the 2054 biological fusion reaction incident" ]	[ 1, 3, 17 ]	[ "1544866562", "1544894368", "1544879330" ]
[removed]	[WP] You were born with this ability where your poop is always a completely random substance that can exist anywhere in the universe. Pooping is horrible because it is basically a game of russian roulette. What happens??	1	[ "Off-Topic Discussion: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfill every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n-----\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) \n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) \n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) \n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "Hi u/Lordbobsaget, this submission has been removed.\n\n[Prompts will be removed if there's a high possibility for rule breaking responses](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_7.3A_prompts_will_be_removed_if_there.27s_a_high_possibility_for_rule_breaking_responses)\n\n- Bathroom Humor: No troll or meme-based prompts. This includes posting fart or poop jokes as prompts. See [here](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_7.3A_prompts_will_be_removed_if_there.27s_a_high_possibility_for_rule_breaking_responses) for more info. \n\n\n\n---\n\n[Modmail](https://www.reddit.com/message/compose?to=%2Fr%2FWritingPrompts&subject=Removed%20post&message=https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/a6kid5/-/%0A%0A) us if you have any questions or concerns. In the future, please refer to the [sidebar](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/about/sidebar) before posting. \n\nThis action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things." ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1544920169", "1544920306" ]
	[WP]PROMPT: The world was just made aware of magical societies that had been living in secret for thousands of years. They viewed themselves as superior and came out of hiding to declare war on humanity. You are a soldier fighting in this war against an enemy you only recently found out existed.	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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "The nurse gave me a strange, unfriendly look as she checked the reading on her instrument.\n\n\"Wait a moment,\" she said, printing out a slip of paper and handing it to me. \"You need to report to Room Eleven immediately. It's all the way down the hall and to the left.\"\n\nI went where she told me, confused. I had enlisted a few weeks after the official start of the war. As an American, I'd never dreamed my country would ever be invaded, not like in the old days. When I'd discovered that enemies actually lived among us, I'd decided I had to volunteer if I wanted to stay alive. But ever since signing up, I'd had nightmares. They said the Mage Nation had armies full of human nuclear weapons that could kill with a word. How could we possibly survive this one?\n\nToday I'd reported to my local facility for testing. The nurse had barely checked my vitals before sending me away. I hoped nothing was wrong with me.\n\nAn older woman looked up as I entered Room Eleven. I handed her my paper. \"The nurse told me to come here,\" she said.\n\nShe glanced at the paper. \"Rose Purzycki,\" she read.\n\n\"Yes, that's me.\"\n\n\"I'm Captain Seldon,\" she said brusquely. \"Tell me, did you know you had mage blood?\"" ]	[ 1, 3 ]	[ "1544921040", "1544934883" ]
	[WP] You wake up feverish and dizzy, head pounding and stomach churning. A knot in your throat constricts as you slowly leave the hospital bed for the bathroom. No one wanted this, but it had to be done. You look into a mirror and see your sister's face. You begin to cry.	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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "If you'd known what would happen, maybe you would have behaved differently. Done something else. You wouldn't have let it come to this. Or would you?\nDeep inside, you know. You know there was nothing you could do. You knew how this would turn out and you did it anyway.\nAnd now that it's done, you're on your own.\nNo one will know about this. No one would even believe it. You are, as of now, forever alone with the knowledge that you stole your sister's life. \nAs the tears stream down your sister's - no, your own - face, you turn away. Away from your past into your sister's future. " ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1544922650", "1544923819" ]
	[WP] He's jogs everyday at the same time. Rain or shine, sleet or snow. Even in the worst conditions. In passing with a neighbor, you mention the runner, but they have no clue who you're talking about. No one does. You seem to be the only person that can see this man.	13	[ "Off-Topic Discussion: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfill every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "Outside my apartment window there is a well built man being mugged. I am running\n\nout of my apartment armed with a baseball bat, praying that I make it in time. I am \n\nnot a saint, and I am not particularly brave so why am I risking my life for some \n\nstranger? Well you see I have a habit. Every night at the same time I look out my \n\nwindow and check to see if he is jogging. The first time I noticed I was seated at my \n\ndesk pulling an allnighter. I saw him jogging and was surprised anyone would be \n\njogging that late at night. The next night I was pulling another allnighter. My beloved \n\nclient changed the parameters for the millionth time. I calmly reminded myself that \n\nwhile it would be satisfying, shoving a keyboard down someone's throat is felony \n\nassault.And then I saw him again. After that it became a habit. To be honest, it is \n\nmore of an obsession now. For the last 762 days without fail at 12:14 , Jogger, that is \n\nwhat I call him, passes my apartment building. I've asked my neighbors who is he? \n\nBut nobody knows. When I first saw him he was pretty overweight but even from 5 \n\nfloors up now he looks well built. So why am I flying down the stairs to his rescue? I \n\nfeel like I know him. Probably better than I know some of my own friends. He started \n\njogging to lose weight but he was too self conscious to jog during the day. So he \n\nstarts jogging at night. The first few days it could hardly even be called jogging. But \n\nhe perseveres. By day 30 he is starting to motor. Every day he gets more fluid and the \n\npounds start to melt off. I watch him brave the icy cold, snowstorms, hail, rain. I \n\nwatch him get drenched in near freezing weather. But the next day he is doing it all \n\nover again. Why am running to certain danger? I guess it's because he is my hero.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nI reach the lobby and run out into the street. There are three guys armed with knives \n\nsurrounding him. He is jogging standing in place. I yell like a mad man and they \n\nscatter. \n\nHe looks at me, \"Who are you?\"\n\nI couldn't say \"I have been stalking/watching you for the last 762 days, what's your \n\nname?\" I would come across as a complete weirdo.\n\n\"My name's Joe. I am a big fan.\" I say instead.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n&#x200B;\n\n&#x200B;\n\n&#x200B;" ]	[ 1, 3 ]	[ "1544927210", "1544933465" ]
	[WP] Your wealth fluctuates based on your sadness. The more depressed you are, the wealthier you become. One day you decide to withdraw and notice $0 in your account.	107	[ "Off-Topic Discussion: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfill every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "He stared blankly at the screen \"Insufficient funds\" it read out cheerfully. He took a deep sigh. It didn't him like a sack of bricks to the chest like it once would would have once. I mean it wasn't ideal, sure. He had another account, and he'd been saving up a bit from his slightly-above-minimum-wage job. 'The Holidays' would wipe him out, but he'd manage. The machine dutifully spat out his card, and with a little smile to himself he grabbed it.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"It's fine\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nAnd he believed it. The world didn't seem any darker or subdued because of this. He didn't expect it to be like this though. I mean, all the flavors of life still existed. Bad, good, he didn't have to live through anything catastrophically terrible to compare the devastating effect of that on his state of mind. But everything just felt... alright.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Is this it?\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nOn the other hand though, this was a far cry from the frantic imaginings and longing for that state of mind. When everything was finally 'good'. Where he had his life together, on the course and path that he knew must be meant for him. He'd been living his life for so long in a stasis, on pause. Waiting for his real life to start. Self inflicting the anguish of wasting away what must be his best years in apathy, while comically doing just that in the never-ending process. The failure of his life so complete that he wasn't even failing spectacularly enough to actually be doing that with enough character to be an interesting story during drunken recounts to potential friends and hookups.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nHad he been doing anything particularly different lately? Something profound and meaningful that spelled out the most obvious reason for his empty slush fund account?\n\n&#x200B;\n\nLife was okay. Nothing had exactly changed in any significant way. He was still working a shitty job. He still wasn't sure his girlfriend was 'the one', and he was walking around with a head full of reasons she wasn't. He was still a sack of middling flaws. He still guiltily smoked and made yet another plan not to. He still cheated on his diet too often, and his daily 5k goal was resigned to similar success. Still falling asleep halfway through nightly plans to be productive and get to 'fixing his life'.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nBut he felt confident about what he was doing, walking the steps that will turn out to be the next mistakes. They were choices he was making, as imperfect and flawed as they were. Could he be doing better? Like the Pope shits in the woods.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nHe was going to miss it. A mysterious bank card that randomly gave him little bursts of happiness during the days he felt the most worthless and cursed. While at the same time proving to him that probably even money couldn't remedy what he was doing to him. Sure, it wasn't enough to make him rich, to make the bigger problems in his life to just disappear. But he wondered if that would've truly made that deep down worthlessness vanish too.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nHe couldn't feel it right now.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nHis painful knowledge of his various failings didn't disappear. Just the thought that they were some karmic conclusion on his value as a person. He was disappointed with having to let go of some long held on expectation for the perfect, but really didn't mind it so much. The reality of his broken but salvageable life felt so much more distinct than the faceless longings he held on to, and so much more exciting in person.", "Today was the day. Id finally manged to get up the nerve. My suicide note was beautifully written. A work of literary genius railing against the injustices of today. Someone was bound to read it and society would become awash with revolution!\n\nI was wearing a really pretty outfit. Purple flats with sequins. Oh I could drool for hours looking at them in a shoe shop mirror! Oh My leggings had little cats on them. My short black skirt made the outfit look playful but classy. Oh and then I picked out my favorite blouse- A white frilly sweetheart blouse I rarely wore because I was too afraid of letting people see fanciful side.\n\nOh All my affairs were in order. I picked the perfect spot. The school ampitheater. Class started at Four PM so I would be dead for quite a while before anyone found me so they wouldnt have to see my ugly struggle before I died. I knew lots of theater students had great photography skills, so when they sent my picture into the local newspaper they were going to make me look sooo good.\n\nI was good friends with the janitor so I made him call in sick today! No early interventions for me. Oh today was going to be the best day of my life!\n\nI had set it up so that all my possessions would go to my best friend- Kim. Oh Kim was going to be so happy once she saw the changes in society my death was going to cause. her and I have been friends for what three years now? Uhh these years have been the happiest of my life.\n\nI spent an hour working on makeup and contouring the lines of my face. Made my nose look adequately small- cant have people thinking I have a big nose or anything after I die. That might ruin the news story! Made my jawline look stronger, foundationed all those blemishes away. Oh I looked like a supermodel out of one of those shampoo commercials! Eyeliner to make my eyes pop- I had to think about this one a bit. I know my eyes are going to be closed but... Well it looks better this way.\n\nAll I had to do was go to the store to buy the perfect rope. I had stalked the hardware store looking for the perfect rope to complent my beautiful long slender neck. Oh I settled for a dyed pink hemp rope 3/4 inch- Anything thinner was likely to leave nasty welts in my neck and I couldn't have that. Anything thicker was going to look ropey and take away from all the work I had done to make a very pretty mis en morte.\n\nI went to my local atm so I could buy the rope anonymously- wouldnt want some poor store clerk to get into trouble later when they found the receipt of course. Gotta pay in cash so they cant trace the transaction!\n\nI stared numbly at my account balance.\n\nWell this ruins *EVERYTHING!*" ]	[ 1, 12, 46 ]	[ "1544932822", "1544937211", "1544934909" ]
	[WP] Your school opens up a time capsule stored 50 years ago. Inside, a letter had been addressed to you by name.	71	[ "Off-Topic Discussion: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfill every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "A hollow corridor. Twelve classrooms filled with apathetic, sexually confused, horrendous and yet empathetic, sweet beings. \n\nA single being stands, shivering not from a draft but due to the fact that the uncertainty buried in his very core prevents him from taking the next step. The most necessary step. \n\nDavid takes the step for him. A muscular, scruffy amphibian whose teachers believe him to be a sociopath, grabs the envelope from the beings grasp, and pushes him into a locker. \n\nAs he tears open the seal with complete disregard for the packaging and presentation, the stamp picked carefully by someone with an antique taste, he lets out a yelp. Blood slowly drips onto the page and down his hand as he drops the envelope with the letter still attached inside. \n\nThe being picks up the blood soaked envelope, carefully takes out the letter, flipping it around and...open. \n\nBefore taking in what is inside, this being looks around him. A hollow corridor, a selfish figure who got what he deserved, and this being in a place completely void of any comfort. \n\nThe being looks down. \n\nAnd the page stares back at him, blank as can be. \n\n&#x200B;", "A small crowd of students stood around the tiny makeshift construction zone near the square as men in hard hats and orange vests dug a mere four feet to the invaluable treasure of trinkets from the past, sure to consist of nothing of more then the fidget spinner and Juul-esq equivalencies of 1969 Maybe some school trophies, some nice pictures, references to inside jokes that couldn’t possibly be deciphered, and maybe some hilarious young man will have managed to sneak in a drawing of a true-to-the-times unmanscaped dick.\n\n\nLindsey stood and watched as the men clad in safety gear hoisted the small case out of its shallow grave and set it onto a white fold-out table. To the right stood four older men in suits, each on wearing a silly, yet somehow expected, white hard hat. Lindsey wasn’t quite sure who these men where, she knew they were important, but never really cared to learn their names. One held a cheesy megaphone and was giving a long winded speech about the history of the school and pride. \n\n\nBeing of a larger build Lindsey had positioned her self on the far side of the crowd so as not to block anybody’s view. She couldn’t really make out what the megaphone man was saying so she instinctively pulled out her smartphone to check The Facebook. She had only stopped by because she heard there would be free T-Shirts. As she stood accidentally sharing every photo she came across instead of hitting “Like” her infinite scroll was interrupted by applause. She looked up to see the metal case sitting open with all of its aged goodies for the world to see. \n\n\nThe students were told to form a line so they could look into the case as they walked by it to grab their free Shirt on the other side. Luckily the line moved at a decent pace since most everybody was eager to get to their next class. As the line edged forward and Lindsey passed by the suited men she received a head nod and a forced smile that looked like it hadn’t left the mans face since that rusty capsule was buried. She peaked into the case and saw a collection of old junk, a Snoopy figurine, a Hot Wheels truck, an old yellowed pack of cigarettes, a newspaper with a Vietnam headline, and a bunch of other papers. The line halted as a student at the front of the line fumble to find his student ID to claim his shirt, and that’s when Lindsey saw it, a cream colored envelope with her name beautifully etched on it in cursive. Lindsey Ann Akers she picked it up and pocketed it. She knew it wouldn’t be missed, it’s not like anybody had taken inventory on what was there.\n\n\nShe handed her ID to the peppy volunteer who enthusiastically asked “what size?”\n“I’ll take a small.” Lindsey replied\n“Oh,” all of the volunteers pep turned into confusion, “Are you sure?”\n\n\nA stern look from Lindsey was enough to end the conversation as the volunteer hurriedly handed her the shirt, clearly realizing she had accidentally been rude.\n\n\nLindsey walked over to one of the nearby benches under the shade of an old oak. She set her things down while taking in the mid May afternoon, the nearby flowers, and rustling of the leaves. After a moment she grabbed the envelope from her pocket only to realize there was another piece of paper stuck to the back of it, she lightly tugged it off and couldn’t stifle her grin when she saw a beautifully drawn hairy penis winking back at her. She set aside the small ode to the timeless immaturity of young men and returned to her package. She gazed at it. She let her fingers trace over the letters of her name. Then, as delicately as ever, she gently pried the envelope open, that 1960’s glue was just barley hanging on, leaving the opened envelope nearly undamaged. She slid out the letter and unfolded it, finding even more of the beautiful hand writing that had graced the envelope. \n\n\nHer eyes began to water as she read-\n\n\nDecember 1, 1969\n\n\nTo my dearest, Lindsey Ann\n\n\nWords cannot express how happy you’ve made me, you are the one thing that has made my life worth living. I love you more than anything, and that’s why tonight I’m going to get down on one knee and ask you to be my very own Mrs. Robinson (Yeah you hate that song, but the joke’s just too good to resist). I know that you’ll never see this letter, but I’m writing this anyway just to get the nerves off my chest. Im not worried about “winning the lottery” tonight. I’m only worried about what you’ll say. See, I spend my days here studying architecture, but the only thing I really want to build is a life with you. I want to give you the home you always dreamed of and fill it with children. I know you hate that I’m so much shorter than you are, but Lindsey Ann, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes on. You make me laugh like no other, and your poetry blows me away. I know I’m no poet or else this letter might would read a little prettier. But I guess I’ll give it a try-\n\n\nRoses are red\n\nViolets are blue\n\nDamnit, Lindsey Ann Akers\n\nI love you!\n\n\nWell I gave it a shot. Anyway, I’m looking at your ring as I write this and the next time I open that little box, it’ll be on front of you.\n\nI will love you until the day I die,\n\n\nYours truly,\n\n\nArthur B. Robinson\n\n\n\nLindsey sat staring at the letter in stunned silence when a hand touched her shoulder, \n\n\n“Excuse me, Lindsey? Mrs. Lindsey Robinson?” Lindsey turned her head to see that it was the volunteer girl from the T-shirt giveaway, “I never handed you back your student ID!” She said.\n\n\n“Oh! Thank you very much dear,” Mrs. Robinson said as she took her ID.\n\n\nHaving noticed the tears, the girl paused, thought for a second and then slowly took a seat next to her. Softly she asked “Is everything ok ma’am? I’m so sorry about what I said earlier I wasn’t thi-“\n\n\n“-Oh no, don’t worry about that, the shirt is for my grand daughter. She’s a little younger then you are. Lucky for her, her and her mother got my husbands height!” Lindsey said as she laughed a little to herself, folding the letter. She looked over at the girl who smiled but still looked concerned. So she broke the small silence “you know, when I was about your age, my husband proposed to right in front of this tree. Of course the square looked a little different back then, and there was snow all around, but it was still right here. Beautiful as ever...” her words trailed of as she gazed at the sidewalk. Softly she began again “That was the same night he won the lottery.”\n\n\nThe girl looked confused, she smiled and asked “I’m sorry, did you say the lottery?”\n\n\nLindsey looked over at her, “The draft, dear. Nixon sent my love to Vietnam.” Her tears welled up again, “Proposed to me right at our feet, Married for a month, and left for life. I raised a daughter he never got to meet.”\n\n\nThe girl looked horrified, “I’m so sorry ma’am, I don’t know what to say... “\n\n\nLindsey wiped her tears away, she let out another small laugh and added “Well according to this he stopped loving me on July 22nd, 1970. So it’s all water under the bridge now. Listen honey, thanks for comforting me, but I need to get to class.”\n\n\n“Class? But yours so ol- I mean what are you majoring in?” The girl stammered, all too self aware of how terrible her social skills were.\n\n\n“Poetry.” Lindsey picked up her bag and looked at the girl intently, “it’s never to late to finish your degree, even if it’s fifty years late.” \n\n\nAs Mrs. Robinson turned and walked away, the girl noticed she had forgotten something. Just as she opened her mouth to call after her, she realize what it was. It was a shockingly well drawn, and very hairy male private part. The girl was taken back by the sheer artistic beauty of it. She turned the paper over and found a small note, it read\n\n\n\nWhat’s up future! Hope you like this portrait of the past!\n\n\nYours truly,\n\n\nArthur B. Robinson\n\n\nThe girl rolled her eyes, but couldn’t bring herself to toss it. Instead she decided to kept it as a book mark, she put it in her pocket, and walked back over to her T-shirt station.\n\n", "Dear Lucile Poppelreiter,\n\nYes. This is from the future of a guy you didn’t even know. It’s not from your grandpa who thought he could magically predict the name of his future grandchildren or anything plausible like that. No, this is totally different. \n\nBy the time you finishing reading this letter you will have 5 minutes to execute plan alpha. \n\nExecute the plan by going down stairs and pulling the fire alarm next to room 201. If you do not do this within five minutes of reading this letter then everything will go wrong. \n\nYou will then have 3 minutes to run to the other side of the school and go into the bathroom by room 844 and into the third stall from the door. There will be a key on the floor. Use the key to open the janitors closet by room 1244 this time. \n\nOne minute will be left to open the closet and find the marked brick on the wall to the left. Trust me, you’ll know which one it is. Tap it 7 times with no breaks and then wait. You must do it quickly, but not too quick. \n\nTiming is everything on this. Please focus and accept this mission. When we have arrived then you will know your next mission, should you choose to accept it. \n\nNow, go! Help us, please. You have no idea how important this is. The quicker it gets done the better. ", "\"And now, would the student body class president please come to the stage?\", the principle announced.\n\nThere were cheers and hoots as Bobby Jermaine clomped down the stairs and shook Mr. Shackleton's burly hand. His grin was ten miles high and we all knew why. He got to be the one to open the time capsule, the first time capsule. All of us were jealous. Fifty years ago the school had instituted a tradition for each senior class, a send off of sorts. The idea was each class would put ten to twenty class-defining items in the capsule and it would be sealed until, fifty years later, a new class opened it. The capsules were on display in a cabinet outside the faculty lounge. Fifty wooden boxes with bronze latches and padlocks, taunting classes for fifty years with the mysteries they held inside. Until now. For the first time in Chancellorsville High History, a class would leave behind AND open a box.\n\nMr. Shackleton handed the key to Bobby, whose hand visibly dropped with the weight of it and began to shake. He missed the lock one the first try and popped it on the second. The principal leaned over wide-eyed and pulled his microphone back up to his mouth.\n\n\"Aaaannnnddd now who's ready to hear what the class of '68 left for you!\", he said, \"After the rally, we will put the contents on display in the cabinet and this box,\" He drummed the side of it, \"will be your class's time capsule!\"\n\nThe box contained what would be expected of sixties highschoolers: a Beatles album, a Life magazine, a few comic books, someones lunch box with Bonanza on the front, ect. The principal rattled them off excitedly giving his own opinion on each. Mr. Shackleton had been nine years old when the capsule went in and was excited to see his own class's opened in nine years. \n\nAt the very end he reached in the box for more, paused, and into the microphone said, \"Well, in the words of Porky Pig, T-t-that's all folks!\" He grinned but his eyes darted back to the box.\n\nWe all cleared out of the hall and returned to our sixth period classes. At the beginning of my seventh, the intercom buzzed on. \"Would Michael York please report to the front office? Would Michael York please report to the front office?\"\n\nThe class ooed as I left my desk and shuffled down the hall. I ran my fingers through my hair and lengthened my stride excitedly. I didn't know what this was about but I was damn curious. \n\n\"The, uh, principal wanted to see me?\" I said to the secretary.\n\n\"Back here Mike!\" Mr. Shackleton called down the hall.\n\nI nodded to the secretary and walked down to his office. Mr. Shackleton sat across from me with a yellowed envelope in front of him. He gestured a chair and flicked the letter off of his desk holding it up for me to see. I took a seat.\n\n\"Do you know what this is?\", he said, \"More importantly, do you see who it is to?\"\n\n\"'Michael Z. York, 231 W. Shaffer Blvd' That's my name and address all right. I'm not sure why you have my mail though.\" I said, raising an eyebrow.\n\n\"It was in the capsule Mike.\", he said raising one back.\n\n\"It was what?\", I said.\n\n\"In a fifty year old time capsule. That no one has opened. Should have opened. Care to explain?\" he said.\n\n\"Can I read it? Have you read it?\" I sputtered\n\n\"Why would you need to read it? I assume you put it there. Science fiction non-sense that it is.\" he said, his voice growing agitated\n\n\"Please\", I said\n\nHe flicked the letter across the desk at me and I caught it. I opened it and read:\n\nDear Mikey,\n\nI'm sorry that I'm going to leave you and your mother. By the time you're reading this it'll be 6 hours since I vanished. Your mom is probably only now realizing it. I'm sorry you'll never see me again. I have 32 years until you're even born. I'll be 74 by then and 92 by the time it all loops back. A lot can happen in that time and I'm not even sure I can stay in the past like this. There are things following me here. Things that don't want me here. Things that don't understand I have no way to leave here. Oh God, it's so messed up Mikey. My little boy. \n\nI'm not sure what your mother has told you about me. About what happened to me. I'm sure its not the truth though because she doesn't know the truth. The truth is I went out one morning for a jog in the woods, took a route off the beaten path to try some free form running, and when I came back out it was 1968. I managed to bribe some kid into sneaking this into the time capsule before they seal it. \n\nTake care of your mother. For me. I love you both more than anything in this world. I know your probably believe this letter is bullshit but even if you do, always remember I love you. I'm using the name Reggie Baker now, if I'm still alive please find me. Even if I'm demented I'll know my own son.\n\nYour Ba-Ba-Dad\n\nI pocketed the letter and ran from the room. Mr Shackleton called after me but I didn't listen. Instead I called my dad and got no response. I called my mom and she asked if I had been able to reach my father at all. She hadn't heard from him all day. He had even missed their lunch date. I googled Reggie Baker and my hometown, finding a hit for the local psych ward. \n\n&#x200B;" ]	[ 1, 1, 6, 13, 42 ]	[ "1544989213", "1545024609", "1545008148", "1544991187", "1544996587" ]
[removed]	[WP] You are a scientist in the 22nd century. You just invented the time machine, and decide to go back to a few moments before the “Big Bang”.	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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "Hi u/awesomemag123, this submission has been removed.\n\n[Prompt users in the title, but don't play writing games or commission stories](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_6.3A_prompt_users_in_the_title.2C_but_don.27t_play_writing_games_or_commission_stories)\n\n- Prompts go in the title, do not extend into text. You can add commentary in the text, but don't add additional prompt restrictions. Also, avoid [too many details](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/prompts?src=RECIPE). \n\n\n\n---\n\n[Modmail](https://www.reddit.com/message/compose?to=%2Fr%2FWritingPrompts&subject=Removed%20post&message=https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/a6srj8/-/%0A%0A) us if you have any questions or concerns. In the future, please refer to the [sidebar](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/about/sidebar) before posting. \n\nThis action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things." ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1544993536", "1544993619" ]
	[WP] You've taken a year-long job as the sole gamekeeper on a remote Scottish island. As the old man who brought you across casts off in his boat, he shouts one last word of advice. "If you hear a knock at the door, don't open it."	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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "You lean back in an armchair—a creaky relic from the 70s with orange floral print—but the foot stool extends and you warm your feet by the fire as the wind whistles steadily outside. You take a sip of the lukewarm whiskey that you poured into the only cup you could find, a chipped coffee mug, and sigh. A whole year of peace and quiet. The suitcases lay around the house, half opened with clothes scattered across the floor, but who cares? It’s just you, and only you. After the year you’ve had, the thought floods you with happiness, a feeling you haven’t felt in a long time. There are still bruises on your arms but those will heal. And no way will he ever find you here, hunkered away a hundred miles from nowhere in the moors of Scotland. Again you smile and lift the glass to yourself –a toast—to surviving. You pull out a mystery novel and the minutes turn into hours and you find yourself falling asleep in the chair.\n\nA dull repetitive clunking sound wakes you up. Groggily you raise your head, the whiskey making things a bit fuzzy. Was the wind batting something back and forth? You listen closely, silence, and then clunk, clunk, clunk. Unbidden your host’s final words come back to you… “don’t open the door.” But that’s not really a knock now is it, more of like a dull thud. Several times in a row, sure, but not the sound a hand makes rapping on a door. You know what that sounds like, the pounding and shouting as someone tries to force their way in. And the sound you hear now is not human. The fire is warm and your head foggy and you slide back into sleep, the thunks melding into a dream, where water keeps pinging in a pan, no matter how many times you empty it, ping, ping, ping, thunk, thunk, thunk, thud, thud, thud.\n\nThe next morning a ray of sunshine sneaks in through the drapes and plays across your eyelids. You stay there another ten minutes, letting the sunshine warm your body, before stretching and braving the cold floor that awaits your bare feet. You put on a kettle, and the tweets and whistles of small birds heard faintly through the walls fills you with that special feeling that the day is going to be new, different. The kettle whistles and you pour a strong, steaming mug of black tea, and only then, when the caffeine removes the last of the fog, do you remember … there was a noise. But here, in the brightness of morning, you open the door. \n\nThere, at your feet, are fish. Dozens of them, flashing silver in the morning light. Some long since dead, others still gasping for breath. Writhing fish. The strangeness of it unnerves you, but as an animal lover, you spring into action, scooping as many up in your arms as you can, running down barefoot to the lake, tossing them in. The water cold as it splashes up from the fish, spraying your arms. Your feet and ankles numb as the lake waves lap over them. Waves getting more and more violent. \n\nAnd then you notice it, twenty feet out, a break in the water, a giant wave, but a wave with …. fins? A long neck breaks through the top of the water and you see a head, with a gleam in its eye. It reaches its neck into the water and pulls up a fish, and tosses it at you. The fish smacks you straight in the forehead. You’re so frozen in surprise you don’t even react. But the creature makes a gurgle sound that could almost be a laugh and then dives back down, the rippled water returning to green smoothness. Wet and fishy and in shock you return to the house and slam the door behind you, slowing sinking into the armchair in a daze.\n\nFive minutes later, the slow smile returns to your face. It shares its fish! And if he ever does find you, here in Scotland, well, you have a hell of a protector. Screw what the old man said --the next time you hear a knock, you’re going to open that door." ]	[ 1, 7 ]	[ "1545011014", "1545025301" ]
	[WP] "Miss Universe matters more than it used to...the winner is crowned ruler of Earth..."	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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "Looking back at what Miss Universe used to be, is somewhat laughable. All you had to do to win was to have bearable looks, to have a nice body, and maybe a little bit of knowledge. \n\nNow, you have to be superhuman. You have to be strong, you have to be BEAUTIFUL, and you have to be a genius. You are always required to have at least two talents that separate you from the rest. \n\nThe rule of one woman from every country still remains. But to be the candidate, that’s a whole other story. \n\nIf you want to be the ruler of earth, you have to start early. You have to train your whole life, you have to go to a special school. Many women attend, but few ever graduate. \n\nI have been through one of these schools. And now, I have been selected as the candidate for The United Stars of America. I am a celebrity. The citizens worship me. I am ravished with expensive gifts, I get to do whatever I want, I get to go wherever I want. I’ve hung out with just about any celebrity you can name. \n\nI’ve had 6 months to prepare for the final competition, the one that will determine the rest of my life. I will either become the Queen of all Queens, or I will become an outcast. Losers of the Miss Universe competition never see the end of torment from their home country if they come back without a title. \n\nThe last Miss Universe ruled for 20 years until her premature death 6 months ago. She was loved and cherished. Tensions have been high since then, and every country has scrambled to find the most suitable candidate. I have been blessed to be chosen, but now that my dream has become a reality, I am more scared than ever. \n\nI have gotten used to this life of luxury. I have trained all my life. And now, I will have to convince the world that I am the only woman fit to be their Queen. I will have to convince the panel of judges and the High Council, who all have their own biases. Last competition’s Queen was Miss India. And as an American, I have to take home the title. Two world powers battling for complete and utter rule of the earth. My country is desperate for power, as it has always been. And now it is up to me. \n\nWith my years of training, I have always thought I could win. \n\nBut right now, standing in front of the whole world, I can’t stop my hands from shaking. The lights are far too bright, my hair is far too stiff. My dress is so tight I can hardly breathe. \n\nThe women standing next to me must feel the same, and I wish them the best. We are all in the same boat after all. I wish it did not have to be this way. The tension in the air is so thick I feel like I am breathing in smoke, not the oxygen I’m so desperate to find. \n\nI try to calm myself. I did amazing. I placed first in the trivia, with Miss China coming in a close second. An American has never come in first in the category. \n\nAnd then I shocked the world with my ability to sing, and to play 4 different instruments. I can also speak 10 languages. One more than the deceased Queen. \n\nI have to win. This is my destiny. \n\nSo as the host walks onto the stage, my posture stiffens. My hands are clammy, the makeup caked on my face feels like it can sweat off any moment. \n\nThe live audience of around 3 million people cheers as he stands under the spotlight. He brings the microphone to his mouth and smiles. \n\nThe audience hushes, and the most uncomfortable silence I have ever endured falls across the stadium. \n\n“The council has come to an agreement. The votes have been counted. Both have been taken into account, as well as the talents each woman has presented for the world today.” \n\nI can barely hear anything except my own heart pounding. I close my eyes and try my best to stay still. \n\nThe host unfolds the envelope that contains my future. \n\nHe opens the letter inside, and holds it into view. \n\n“The next Miss Universe, our next beloved Queen, has been chosen to be Miss United States Of America.” \n\nMy knees buckle at the mention of my title. I fall to the ground, tears erupting from my once closed eyes. \n\nI won. \n\nI am Miss Universe. \n\nI am the most powerful woman in the world. \n\nThe women standing around me do not lend me a hand. They are devastated, their gazes averted. Their coldness suddenly stirs an emotion inside of me that I have never felt before. Hatred. \n\nMaybe it’s because of all the stress I am currently under. Maybe it’s because they know all their riches will soon be gone. Maybe they are even more selfish than me. \n\nRegardless, I know the whole world is watching me. I pick myself up and stumble over to the host. \n\n“Miss Universe everyone!” He cheers, followed by an eruption of applause from the audience. Everyone seems to be pleased with the decision. Everyone except the other candidates. \n\nI was at least expecting a congratulations from them, a few smiles sent my way— but no. Nothing. \n\nI face the crowd as the notorious Miss Universe crown is placed upon my head. The audience roars in reply. \n\nI wipe my tears away. “Thank you!” I call out, blowing kisses left and right. \n\nMy rule starts now, my era will now begin. I will do what is right, and nobody can stop me. \n\nA grin creeps along my face, stretching from ear to ear. \n\nWhat the council failed to realize, was my ill intentions. \n\nMy first act as Queen will be the termination of Miss Universe. Every council member, and every candidate. And I will slaughter anyone who disagrees with me. \n\n(If you read the whole thing, thank you! This is my first post for a writing prompt. I wrote it in 20 minutes so excuse any grammar mistakes.) \n" ]	[ 1, 2 ]	[ "1545017471", "1545021098" ]
	[WP] Everyone has a spirit accompanying them. These spirits are manifestations of their personality. These spirits range from looking like axolotls with wings, floating cubes or even humanoid. Your spirit is somewhat… weird.	121	[ "Off-Topic Discussion: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfill every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "Farlow had arrived late. Not \"late\" late, but Farlow late. He walked in the government building and sat down at the closest bench and in 2 minutes was already asleep. A guard approached him and woke him up. Turns out his snoring was disturbing the other customers. \n\n\"Are you here to register your spirit, sir?\" the guard asked Farlow who did not seem surprised about this rude awakening.\n\n\"I guess. You?\" Farlow didn't seem to notice that the guard is in a uniform and just thought that this was small talk. The guard looked at his badge and back at Farlow. Getting no reaction, he pointed at his badge. Then tapped at it several times. Farlow had already lost interest and was turning on the other side to continue sleeping.\n\n\"Sorry,\" the guard tapped on Farlow's shoulder. \"That'll be the seventh booth, sir. Now. Please go. Please.\"\n\nIf Farlow cared, he would have grumbled. With slow steps he walked along the booths. So many good booths, but he has to go to seventh. What a drag. Finally having reached the door, he opened it without knocking and slumped down in the only free chair right in front of a government clerk. She was gray as the walls, old as the walls, beautiful as the walls. She had never said \"I'm too old for this shit\", for her age and this shit were meant for each other. In a tone that would bore a rock she started: \"Name?\"\n\n\"Farlow,\" answered the guest, already getting foggy with sleep.\n\n\"Farlow.\" The old women looked over her appointment list. Then skipped a page back. Then one more. After a few more she found his name on the list. \"You were supposed to come in April.\" \n\n\"Yeah, well...\" Farlow started and then, instead of continuing, just shrugged.\n\n\"So. Your spirit. Name?\" The old woman demanded.\n\n\"Name?\" Farlow started digging in his pocket and pulled out a ball of green slime. He set it on the table right upon the papers and the slime slowly settled in a flat pancake all over important documents. \"I don't know. Thing. This thing. Thingum.\"\n\nThe worker picked up some papers and folded them, so that the slime collected in a small pool. Then she promptly poured it down on the floor and sorted her papers back in order. \n\n\"Please do not put your spirit on my sprits, thank you very much. Thingum. What does it do?\"\n\nFarlow glared at the slime that oozed at his feet and seemed not to go anywhere. \"Is.\"\n\n\"Ok, it \"is\". Done. Anything else.\"\n\n\"Well...\" Farlow poked it with his feet. \"It kind of just... Slobblers...\"\n\n\"That's not a word.' The woman objected.\n\n\"But it does.\" affirmed Farlow. The woman stood up and looked over her desk to see what the slime is doing. Farlow pointed at it with an open palm and looked up. After about 5 seconds the woman sat down.\n\n\"Slobbers.\" She noted in her papers. \"I guess there is nothing much else to do here. Usually it takes longer, but I see that this time... That this time there is no... No powers that... Mr Farlow? Please, Farlow? I see. James! Can you come in here! There is a man asleep in my booth!\"\n\n[Literary Nobody](https://www.reddit.com/r/LiteraryNobody/)", "The spectral version of me--me 2.0--threw herself in a chair, flipping her pink hair over her shoulder and glancing around the apartment in disdain. \"Girl, you live like this?\"\n\nI ignored her and sank onto the floor. This had to be some sick joke. I'd waited patiently for my spirit for years, day in and out, through late bloomer jokes and pitying glances, through the awkwardness of school events where I was the only one without a spirit and couldn't participate in certain activities. Certain one day it would be worth it. And now it turns out my spirit is...me?\n\nThe hell? People were going to think I was a crazy narcissist. I'd never seen a spirit take on the form of its paramour. It just didn't happen.\n\n\"Pout all you want, Princess,\" my doppelgänger told me. \"I'm here for the long haul.\"\n\nWell, work was going to be interesting tomorrow...\n\n" ]	[ 1, 38, 42 ]	[ "1545023342", "1545038058", "1545029808" ]
[removed]	[WP] I am laying an egg with an apex predatory dinosaur inside right now. It will certainly hatch within the next 48 hours. It's survival is our highest priority, our survival is second highest.	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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "Hi u/I_Am_Tyler_Durden, this submission has been removed.\n\n[Prompt users in the title, but don't play writing games or commission stories](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_6.3A_prompt_users_in_the_title.2C_but_don.27t_play_writing_games_or_commission_stories)\n\n- Prompts go in the title, do not extend into text. You can add commentary in the text, but don't add additional prompt restrictions. Also, avoid [too many details](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/prompts?src=RECIPE). \n\n\n\n---\n\n[Modmail](https://www.reddit.com/message/compose?to=%2Fr%2FWritingPrompts&subject=Removed%20post&message=https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/a6xlwo/-/%0A%0A) us if you have any questions or concerns. In the future, please refer to the [sidebar](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/about/sidebar) before posting. \n\nThis action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things." ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1545030921", "1545033586" ]
[removed]	[WP] You're a scientist in the year 2420. In your quest to discover more during the "Age of Information" you open a computer dated year 2018. It unleashes an ancient computer virus and due to a bug in the code, it is able to infect modern systems as fast as the nanobots in the air allow it to	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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "Hi u/idigress31337, this submission has been removed.\n\n[No recent reposts, even if changing small details](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_5.3A_no_recent_reposts.2C_even_if_changing_small_details)\n\nAlso, no [copy-cats](http://i.imgur.com/38FjDgW.gifv).\n\nSearch 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\n---\n\n[Modmail](https://www.reddit.com/message/compose?to=%2Fr%2FWritingPrompts&subject=Removed%20post&message=https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/a6z0o5/-/%0A%0A) us if you have any questions or concerns. In the future, please refer to the [sidebar](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/about/sidebar) before posting. \n\nThis action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things." ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1545046044", "1545046298" ]
	[WP] Humanity suddenly forgets the entire 90s and all the records, images, newspapers of it disappear. People remember new years party in 89 up to twelve o'clock and then the year 2000 with a blank in between. One day, you remember everything. You caused the collective amnesia.	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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "So uh... I dont quite know where to start with all this. The event itself or those that lead up to it? I'm probably not even the right person to tell this tale. Even though it's my fault.\n\nYou see about twelve years ago, just before the start of twenty nineteen all data on the nineteen nineties vanished. Tax records. Census data. Video recordings. Music albums. Everything. You name something from the nineteen nineties all data is gone. You, me or anyone you ask will only know that it didn't exist at the trike of midnight December thirty first eighty nine then did exist at just passed midnight January first, two thousand. A planet wide vacuum of information. I remember the worldwide panic and chaos that ensued. Didn't amount to anything other than a substantial chunk taken out of the tax payers pocket to repair damage caused by riots and what have you. Mostly people just got on with it. We lost a fair amount but a lot of stuff surprisingly wasn't missed. Or if it was we didn't notice. So no one bothered trying to remember after about mid summer twenty twenty. And thus no one since has had much reason to recall that missing decade. Until today.\n\nNow this is where it gets strange. Its also where what I think I know and what I do know blur a tad. I'm fairly certain I'm the cause. Don't ask me how. Don't ask me why because God alone knows what actually happened. To explain I found something very peculiar while working on an archeological dig site somewhere in Nepal up the side of some mountain in the Himalayas, the exact name has slipped my mind in the past years but I'm sure I could find it with enough digging through my records. I don't quite know how to describe it. But appeared to be a book, bound with golden thread and using thin iron sheets as pages.\n\nIt was in a coffin that I remember clearly. But much else is foggy. Like something or someone is trying it's best to remain unknown. I do recall that the skeleton was really weird. Definetly not human but definetly not animal. Because I don't know anything that has silver bones or wings on a humanoid body. But then again, my memory is unreliable on these events so it may be nothing. However I recall the book vividly. And how I wasted hours with a colleague who studied linguistics trying to crack the insane scripting used to record whatever information the book contained.\n\nNow the only thing I recall about the night that all information on the nineties vanished I'd been drinking. Well, that I'd been drinking and I'd really gotten angry over something. Something that resulted in me slamming my hands down on the table, one of which got a nasty cut on the book, and yelling \"I wish that entire bloody decade never happened.\"" ]	[ 1, 2 ]	[ "1545061365", "1545086189" ]
	[WP] Zombies exist but it’s not an apocalypse. Just another day to day inconvenience like rain or your car breaking down.	21	[ "Off-Topic Discussion: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfill every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n-----\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) \n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) \n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) \n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "I watched a lot of movies about the end of the world in various forms; zombie movies were one of my favourites. It happened, it finally happened and as predicated the virus spread and part of the population turned into mindless zombies ... the only problem being that they ended up being a massive disappointment. The zombies were not like in the movies, they did not use their arms at all, dropped by their sides and just walked around trying to eat you. All anyone had to do, was to put your hand on their forehead (stretched out) and they would never be able to get close to you ... it felt silly at first, but you get used to it.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nSometimes it would take days or even weeks for my (zombie) ex-girlfriend would turn up to my front door, still thinking that she lived here. I was not the only one to have this fate, others had zombie boyfriends and girlfriends (exes and \"current partners\") turn up at their place; it turns out that they mindlessly walk around but gravitate towards something familiar. At first we laughed at how silly it was, she would wait at the front door to be let in ... clearly the most ineffective zombies in the world, the only way that you would get bitten is if you physically put your finger in her mouth ... and who would be stupid enough to do that!\n\n&#x200B;\n\nYou would think we would be able to dispose of them, who would not jump at the chance to get rid of their exes as they are not human anymore. The government passed a law and they are to continue to \"live\" as they were not causing any issues for people. So, yep the zombie apocalypse turned out to just be a massive inconvenience.", " “Come on!” Alliane pulled on Jonah’s arm. “You can’t see anything from there, get closer!” She stood on one of the city’s outer walls trying to get her boyfriend to look at the river of zombies shambling below. Jonah crinkled his nose and shook his head. \n\n“I can’t get any closer to that stench, how can you stand it?” Alliane turned over the railing and stared down at the walking corpses. They shuffled through an empty concrete moat built around the city moaning the whole way. She made a show of inhaling a deep breath through her nostrils. Alliane exhaled then turned back to Jonah with a disgusted face. \n\n“Blech,” she giggled. “Never smelled that before.” She left the railing and led Jonah towards the elevator. “We’re on an adventure and you need to be more adventurous.” \n\n“I’m adventurous, I just don’t like stinky smells,” he grumbled as they stepped into the elevator. Alliane realized he may have taken it more seriously than she intended. She kissed his cheek as an apology then changed the subject. \n\n“We’ll get the picture then move on. What’s next on the list?” \n\n“Uh..,” Jonah pulled his cell phone out and swiped through the screens until he pulled up a picture of a list. “A ladder.” \n\n“A ladder? That’s kind of boring,” Alliane said. “I don’t think those girls gave us all the rules.” \n\n“Maybe they didn’t understand it either,” Jonah handed his phone to Alliane. “It says #07 La Escalera,” he shrugged. “I don’t know why it’s in Spanish, but that’s a ladder. I don’t know what the number is, maybe we have to find one with the number seven on it?” The elevator glided to halt then dinged. The doors opened and Alliane stepped out first. She headed straight for the viewing window. \n\n“That’s super easy, we can grab a ladder from here and draw a seven on it,” she looked back to wink an emerald eye at him. “Two birds, one stone.” They reached a wide glass wall that separated the zombies from the tourists. The glass turned into concrete at about eight feet. The horde of corpses blocked out most of the sunlight leaving a dim interior. On one side, people stood in front of the glass wall and posed with frightened faces for the camera. On the other side, the legion ignored the unending flashes and continued to flow forward. \n\n“Here,” Jonah handed his phone to Alliane then he stood in front of the clear wall. Alliane snapped a quick picture and then they swapped places. After Jonah took Alliane’s picture he joined her by the wall and watched the zombies. “Do you think they’re blind?” Jonah asked as he wrapped his arm around Alliane.\n\n“Probably. They are dead,” she replied.\n\n“No, that’s not it,” a woman’s voice said from beside them. The couple turned to see a young woman wearing jeans, a t-shirt, and a green vest that identified her as a docent. “Hi,” she smiled at them and pressed a hand to her chest. “I’m Mundo.” Jonah waved with his free hand and Alliane smiled.\n\n“I’m Jonah and this is Alliane.” Mundo nodded at the parade of corpses behind them. “Their eyes work fine, but the glass is treated. It’s kind of like a two-way mirror, but they only see black.”\n\n“Oh I see. Thank you for the information,” Jonah said.\n\n“No problem,” Mundo said. “Anything else I can help you with?” They both shook their heads.\n\n“Not unless you can help us find a ladder around here,” Alliane giggled then turned her attention back to the zombies. She knew they’d be leaving soon and she wanted to enjoy every moment.\n\n“Ignore her, we’re fine. Thank you again,” Mundo gave him a curious look.\n\n“An Escalera?” she asked. Immediately both heads whipped around to face her.\n\n“Why did you say it in Spanish?” Jonah asked.\n\n“What’s Spanish?” Mundo asked. Alliane’s hand flew fast and sharp to smack Jonah on the back of his head.\n\n“It’s nothing, just an inside joke between us,” Alliane said quickly. “RIGHT, honey?”\n\n“Yeah, yeah. Sorry. I’m so used to talking to her things slip out sometimes.” Mundo stared at them with piercing eyes, but the corners of her lips tugged upward. A smile slowly spread across her face.\n\n“Oh my god,” she said. Her eyes widened and seemed to sparkle more, even in the dim light. She began bouncing in place with excitement. “You don’t know what you are, do you???!” Her restraint withered with every second as she became more energetic. Jonah saw severe worry flash over Alliane’s face.\n\n‘I know that we’re leaving,” he said. “But thank you again.”\n\n“You guys are from a different universe!” Mundo blurted out. “Two actually, one each,” she corrected herself in a quieter tone. They stopped walking.\n\n“What makes you say that?” Jonah asked. He guided Alliane away from Mundo and tried to put himself between them.\n\n“I NEVER get to explain it to anyone, this is awesome! FOLLOW ME!” She grabbed the closest hand, Jonah’s, and led them to the cafeteria in a hurry. She sat them at a small booth.\n\n“Wait here, I’ll get us some drinks. I’ve got a lot to tell you about yourselves,” she turned and took two steps away. Then she stopped and turned around. “OH, please don’t leave. You’re not in any danger, I promise.” Jonah and Alliane nodded, then Mundo turned away again. After two more steps, she stopped and turned around again. “BUT, if you do leave do yourselves a favor. Look for a Mundo on the next Earth you visit. We can explain things to you.” She turned and walked to the counter.\n\n“Up to you, hon,” Jonah said. They both watched Mundo get in a short line with three bottled waters. Alliane shrugged.\n\n“She called the ladder an escalera, that can’t be a coincidence. Plus, she somehow knew we weren’t from here. Let’s listen. Maybe she can help us with other items on the scavenger hunt too, not just the ladder.”\n\n\\\\\\*\n\n Thank you for reading! I’m responding to prompts every day in 2018, this is #350. You can find them collected on my [blog](https://hugoverse.info/). If you're curious about my universe (the Hugoverse) you can visit the [Guidebook](https://hugoverse.info/2017/11/25/hugoverse-guidebook/) to see what's what and who's who, or the [Timeline](https://hugoverse.info/2017/10/23/hugoverse-timeline/) to find the stories in order. ", "\"Ralph, you mind passing me a couple more bolts? I think I see another shambler by the fence.\" I loaded my crossbow before going back to my laptop, keeping it nearby for when the blighter came in range\n\nDear Martha,\n\nFor years the movies made zombies out as if they were a legitimate threat. Nothing of the sort it seems. When that fool created a zombie virus we knew how to dispatch them so well, they might as well be coons. Now that said the fact infection can occur posthumously is a problem. When the first zombies reached graveyards we had hundreds to deal with. \n\nI looked up as the brain dead monster found his way over the wall, and raised the crossbow\nClick, thud. The zombie dropped like a stone with a bolt firmly planted in it's head. \n\n\"Well that's that.\"\n\nChilds play. Just like fending off coyotes or wolves. Keep the kids inside after dark and have a shotgun by the front door. All in all I think this is a good thing. Instead of fighting out neighbors we just shoot the dead ones. The crime rates are way down due to a new form of punishment. Being fed to the dead. No one ever has been of course, but who would want to risk it? Anyway I hope to make the drive up to the bay to visit later this week. Be nice to have some time away from the pests for a while. \n\nLove, Will." ]	[ 1, 2, 4, 6 ]	[ "1545075907", "1545091625", "1545092824", "1545086661" ]
[removed]	[WP] Name 1 thing you wish your cellphone did for you that it currently does not	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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "Hi u/Blackmanwdaplan, this submission has been removed.\n\n[Direct prompt replies must be good-faith attempts at new stories or poems](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_1.3A_direct_prompt_replies_must_be_good-faith_attempts_at_new_stories_or_poems)\n\n- Fill-in-the-blank: Responses must be at least 100 words. 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 Prompts will be removed if there's a high possibility for rule breaking responses ([rule 7](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_7.3A_prompts_will_be_removed_if_there.27s_a_high_possibility_for_rule_breaking_responses))\n\n\n\n---\n\n[Modmail](https://www.reddit.com/message/compose?to=%2Fr%2FWritingPrompts&subject=Removed%20post&message=https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/a74lar/-/%0A%0A) us if you have any questions or concerns. In the future, please refer to the [sidebar](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/about/sidebar) before posting. \n\nThis action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things.", "I cried. Tears and mucus flowed from my face and hands. I covered my face from the world despite the fact that no one was around to see me vulnerable. I stumbled to my bed and collapsed onto it. \n\nMy hands gripped the pillow tightly as I stuffed my face into it. The screaming came out of my mouth naturally. My body shook violently. I knew no one could hear my muffled screams but that did not stop me from attempting to control my emotions out of fear that someone would enter my room. \n\nMy phone started buzzing. Fuck! I peeled my face off the pillow. My knuckles quickly brushed the tears and snot from my face. I sat up to pull my phone from my pocket to reveal a call coming from Tony \"Bunny\" Carter, my deceased grandfather. My heart halted. I stared calmly at my screen. The greatest man I ever knew called me from the urn his ashes occupied for 8 years. I slid the green phone icon to the right. \n\n\"Hello.” I declared to the unknown.\n\n“Marcus it’s been a long time.” I fell silent on the other line as I let his voice fill my ears and my memory. No fucking way! His voice I forgot how his voice sounded. My mind holds no doubt that the man speaking through the phone was my grandfather. \n\n“Grandad!” I broke down all over again. My face immediately regained the waterfall that originated from my eyes. \n\n“Yes Grandson.” His pause commanded my attention. I stopped crying to hear what he said. “I heard you crying and I wanted to help.” I breathed a sigh of relief. Finally someone to talk to\n\n" ]	[ 1, 1, 1 ]	[ "1545084879", "1545085566", "1545086529" ]
	[WP] You are vacationing in Canada when a man flashes what looks to be a pistol tucked into his waist-band, and demands whatever money is in your wallet. Knowing the politeness of Canadians you say to the robber "No thanks Buddy." "Alright then" he says, and leaves.	51	[ "Off-Topic Discussion: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfill every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "It was a chill December evening, around minus ten Celsius, and I was enjoying a warm Beaver Tail by the river. I had just come from Tim Horton's after quickly dispatching my double double into the trash. I always forgot I didn't actually like Tim Horton's. \n\nI was nearing the end of my vacation to visit family in Canada. The next day I'd be on a plane to Texas to reunite with my wife. I figured I'd enjoy the beautiful landscape while it lasted.\n\nI took a final bite of my pastry and made my way along the river. Ahead I could see a local farmers market that was finishing up before close. I noticed the telltale bottles of sweet brown nectar even at a distance, and knew I had to grab some Maple Syrup to bring home. \n\nJust as I began making my way toward the market, I tripped slightly. I looked down. My boot laces had come undone, I'd have to tie them up.\n\nAs I bent over I heard a voice behind me.\n\n\"Oh hey there! What's that all aboot eh?\"\n\nI finished tying my shoes and faced the voice. It was a man in a plaid jacket, camo pants, and a black toque. \n\n\"Just tying up my boots, I almost fell.\"\n\nHe looked at my boots.\n\n\"Those are nice boots.\"\n\n\"Thanks.\"\n\nI went to move away but he moved to stand in front of me.\n\n\"Eh buddy, I'm soory to do this but I gotta ask for those boots.\"\n\nHe lifted his jacket slightly to reveal the end of a bolt-action hunting rifle jutting out of his pants. That couldn't be comfortable.\n\n\"Hey\" I said incredulously \"you can't have a gun!\" \n\nHe looked puzzled a moment and then replied \"Yes I can! I have my unrestricted licence and this is a registered unrestricted firearm!\"\n\n\"Okay well you can't conceal carry.\"\n\nHe thought about it a moment, and pulled the gun from his pants.\n\n\"There.\" he said plainly \"Now give me those boots.\"\n\nI began to remove my boots, as slowly as I could. I was both trying to buy time, and annoy my robber.\n\n\"Hey buddy hurry up eh? Don't be a hoser!\"\n\nI was onto my second boot when I saw flashing lights in the distance behind my robber. Someone at the market must have seen me and called the police. I needed to distract my robber a bit longer.\n\n\"Hey, want to hear a joke?\"\n\n\"Sure, but make it quick, and hurry up and give me that other boot.\"\n\n\"How are Timmies coffee and having sex in a canoe similar?\"\n\n\"I don't know, how?\"\n\n\"They are both fucking close to water!\"\n\nThe joke had the robber in hysterics. He began laughing so hard he lost focus. In that time two officers sprinted towards us, leaving their double doubles spilled brown in the snow behind them.\n\nWhen they arrived they non-violently disarmed and arrested the culprit. As I gave them my statement I noticed the unmistakable telltale remains of chocolate fondant and cream from what could only be Boston Cream donuts on their lips. \n\n\"You're lucky we could get here so fast\" one of them said to me.\n\n\"Buddy and I were just out for a rip to pick up some darts, so we were real close.\"\n\nI offered them each a smoke which they graciously accepted.\n\nUnfortunately out of the whole ordeal, the worst part was the market closed and I wasn't able to get any maple syrup before my flight home." ]	[ 1, 8 ]	[ "1545086627", "1545088847" ]
	[WP] A thief has broken to a house and got away with thousands of dollars worth of things. They made a mistake, however, and will pay for it dearly. For they accidentally stole a project from a high school student who’s grade depends on it.	111	[ "Off-Topic Discussion: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfill every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "Peter could've sworn he had left his laptop safely on his desk when he took off for school this morning.\n\nBut now, just after coming home with his mom after work at 5 p.m., it was no longer there.\n\nIt was a pretty nice laptop - he bought it on sale for about $3,000 a year and a half ago, and still ran like a dream - but more importantly, it held a crucial high school English essay: one that would determine whether or not he'd be graduating this year.\n\nThe 12th grader was never particularly good at school, but his grades had taken an especially bad dip since last winter, when his older brother died. He had never quite gotten over it, or had gotten closure from the people responsible for his death.\n\nPeter's had most of the year to start healing, but now that it's February, he's staring down the barrel of high school graduation. And without the essay (worth 40 per cent of his final grade) that's due in two short days, he might not make it.\n\nIt wouldn't have been so bad if, two months ago, Peter hadn't begged - begged! - his teacher, Ms. Harmon, to write off the disgraceful grade he had gotten on his mid-terms, and instead place more weight on this essay. He doubted that any amount of begging would get her to write this one off too.\n\nTo add insult to injury, this was the first project in almost a year where he had actually tried to get a good grade, and felt the essay was worth at least an A, if not a B+, if he managed to turned it in.\n\nPeter glanced at his window and saw that it wasn't latched. He sighed and stuck his head out his bedroom door.\n\n\"Mom, check the camera,\" he called. \"I think we've been robbed.\"\n\n\\---\n\nBy the time the police left, Peter and his mother had compiled a rough estimate of the value of the things taken. Most of the items were taken from Peter's room, which made sense, he supposed, seeing as it was the entry point, and most of the household's electronics were in his room.\n\nStill, his mother was also missing a few necklaces and bracelets. The thieves appear to have not gone downstairs, choosing to mainly loot the top floor. It didn't seem like an extremely sophisticated operation.\n\nThe security camera, mounted above the front door, yielded no fruitful results. At 1:54 p.m., while Peter was still at school and his mother was at work, it showed two men walk up to front door, wearing wide-brimmed hats pulled down low to hide their faces from the camera. \n\nThey knocked on the door, nervously peeked around, then turned around to leave - presumably to walk around to the back of the house, climb up the oak tree in the backyard, and climb in through a bedroom window.\n\nPeter's bedroom window, which had been breached before.\n\nHe wasn't completely sure who the robbers were, but he had a pretty good idea.\n\n\\---\n\nMarshall was a great kid, by all accounts. He was nice, funny, tall, and charming. Up until the end of high school he was both a successful varsity basketball and hockey player. And, unlike Peter, he was effortlessly good at school.\n\nSo that's why it was so shocking to see him fall so quickly.\n\nShortly after graduation, he got in with a bad crowd: specifically, two piece of shit losers named Moe and Nate. The two of them liked heroin, even more than they liked wearing wifebeaters, chain smoking cigarettes and laughing at their own farts. \n\nThey fit every small-town junkie stereotype in the books, which was why it was so odd that a well-to-do young man like Marshall would start hanging around with them.\n\nUnfortunately, Moe and Nate's bad habits rubbed off on Marshall, and it only took him three years to completely drive his life off the rails.\n\nTwo weeks before his brother died of an accidental overdose, Peter woke up in his room in a state of shock. He could vaguely make out the outlines of two people, trying their best to remain quiet but failing miserably.\n\n\"Who's there?\" he called out softly.\n\nHe heard a bump, then a fit of quiet giggling. Then, floating out of the darkness:\n\n\"Sorry man, it's us: Moe and Nate. Is Marshall home?\" the voice was slurred.\n\n\"How did you get in here?\" asked Peter, clutching his blankets in a mix of shock and anger.\n\n\"The tree out back,\" the voice - he wasn't sure which one it was - giggled. \"And your window was open.\"\n\n\"Well, you shouldn't climb in through other peoples' windows,\" said Peter, who was no longer shocked but still plenty angry.\n\n\"Marshall isn't here. He's at his girlfriends. They probably have the drugs you're looking for.\"\n\n\"Hey, no need to be a dick,\" said the second voice. \"We'll head out.\"\n\nAnd without a further word, the two of them climbed back outside.\n\n\\---\n\nThat may have been the last time Peter had seen them, but he suspected it wasn't the last time Moe and Nate were in his room. After all, who among us wouldn't rob your dead friend's little brother so you can pawn their possessions off for more drugs?\n\nFuck, why didn't Peter learn to lock his window after the last time?\n\nHe wasn't going to let those two douchebags get away with it. An hour after the police left, Peter grabbed his coat and headed for the door.\n\n\"Where are you going, Peter?\" his mom called.\n\n\"Going to check some pawn shops, see if my stuff is being put up for sale,\" he lied.\n\n\"Don't they all close at 5?\"\n\n\"Nah, most of them are open until 9,\" said Peter, speaking entirely out of his ass. \"See you later, mom.\"\n\nHe left the house, hopped on his bike and sped off across town, toward the local trailer park. When his brother was still alive, he used to tag along with him and wait in the car while he went off to go score.\n\nPeter used to hate those trips - he wasn't stupid, he knew what his brother was doing - but now he appreciated them: at least now he knew where he was going.\n\nHe didn't really have a plan. He figured he would knock on the door, explain that he had an important essay stored on the stolen laptop, and wait for the two high-as-a-kite junkies to make the reasonable decision and give him back his hard work.\n\nIf that failed, he had his mother's handgun in his backpack.\n\n\\---\n\nHolding his breath, Peter walked up to Moe and Nate's trailer and knocked. No answer.\n\nAfter a failed attempt to peer in through the window, Peter tried the door, and to his surprise, it was open. He went in, and found himself almost immediately recoiling with disgust.\n\nMoe and Nate couldn't have been dead for long; the cigarette in the ashtray was still smoking and one of them was still holding a needle between their limp fingers. It was clear that they had met an end very similar to his brother's - except far too late, in Peter's opinion. \n\nTheir coffee table was covered in Ziploc baggies and wads of cash. It appeared they had already managed to sell most of the stuff they stole from Peter's house and spend some of the money on drugs - and bad drugs at that. It must be a doozy to kill two men at once.\n\nBut when he turned around, Peter noticed his prize computer sitting on the counter, clearly in the middle of some very aggressive attempts to unlock it.\n\nHardly believing his luck, Peter grabbed the laptop and its cord, and stuffed in his backpack. Grinning from ear to ear, he turned around, leaving Moe and Nate behind, and stepped out on the stoop.\n\nHe was happy about getting his essay back, but that wasn't why Peter was smiling.\n\nHe finally had closure.", "\"Go, go, go!\" I whispered urgently as I tried to shut the car door quickly without slamming it.\n\nBut my idiot compadre Aaron popped the clutch like he was trying to go back in time, which resulted in the tires screaming so loudly we may as well have shot guns in the air like drunken cowboys.\n\n\"Jesus fucking Christ.\" I complained.\n\n\"What'd you get, Jay?\" Aaron asked.\n\nI hadn't really looked yet. I first found cash and jewelry and a PS4, then I just started shoveling shiny things in the bag because my heart was pounding like a fucking jack hammer and I just wanted to get the hell out of there. One item in particular was pretty interesting, though I had no clue what it was. It looked like a couple of chrome pipes twisted around eachother like some kind of fancy, custom tailpipe. But it was only the size of a shoebox. It was so heavy I nearly left it, but my curiosity won.\n\nI pulled the heavy, chrome object from the bag. I hadn't noticed before, but the underside had dozens of smaller tubes that wound through eachother like something you'd expect to see in the architecture of an alien space ship. It had a couple of switches on it, but no chord, and I couldn't see anywhere to put batteries.\n\n\"What is it?\" Aaron asked.\n\n\"Dude, just get to the garage.\" I barked.\n\nAaron looked in the rear view mirror for a second and went pale.\n\n---------\n\nDevon had just put the finishing touches on his science project before cleaning up and getting ready for bed. His invention was not only going to win this year's science fair, it might change the world.\n\nIt was an A+ for sure.\n\nToo excited to sleep, Devon stared at the ceiling and saw images of himself giving tv interviews for the local news, then national news, then a prime time special. He even saw himself accepting the nobel peace prize.\n\nHe was so lost in his future world he almost didn't hear the garage door open. Thing is, the garage door never opened. He had filled his dad's garage from wall to wall with various items, making it impossible to get a vehicle in. His parents were forced to park in the driveway, but since they were out of town for the weekend the driveway was empty.\n\nSo who the hell just opened the garage door?\n\nDevon jumped to his feet with the adrenaline of a mountain climber and tip toed to his bedroom door like a ninja. Someone was in the house, and they were shuffling through things maniacally. Great, since his parents were gone some jerks decided to rob the place.\n\nAfter about three minutes he heard the garage door open and shut again. He was safe. He quickly ran to the garage to make sure they didn't destroy his project, but when he saw that it was missing altogether, he saw red. In that same moment he heard an engine roar behind loud, screeching tires. He looked to his left and saw his dirt bike. Without thinking, he hit the switch to open the garage door and jumped on the dirt bike. \n\n----------\n\n\"What's wrong?\" I asked Aaron. I looked behind us and saw a single, dim headlight, shaking in the distance.\n\n\"Jay, someone's following us!\" Aaron's voice cracked in sheer terror. \n\n\"Well, lose him!\"\n\nBehind us, that persistent, yellow orb continued its pursuit. It seemed to draw closer no matter what he did. \n\n\"Dude.\" I was getting freaked out. \n\nAaron made a hard left at a 'T' where the road ended at the gate of a cemetery, then he made a right turn at the end of the block. At the end of that stretch of road he turned right again.\n\n\"Are they gone?\" Aaron asked.\n\nBehind us all I saw was darkness. \n\n\"Yeah, think so.\" I said.\n\n\"Thank God.\"\n\n----------\n\nDevon knew which direction the robbers were headed by the ridiculous sound of their car, which probably never had its oil changed. He might even be able to follow the piece of shit on scent alone.\n\nHe picked up their trail immediately, and tried desperately to close the gap. He was so angry he hadn't even considered what kind of people he was chasing. Maybe they had guns? He didn't care. He needed to catch up to them. He couldn't let them get away with his life changing project.\n\nLike a homing missile, Devon copied their every move, but the car always increased the distance on long stretches. The car vanished left, and when Devon reached the end of the road he realized he could cut through the cemetery. If they weren't going around the cemetery they would lose him. But if they were circling around, it would be the only way he would be able to cut them off on the other side.\n\nFuck it. Devon thought as he raced straight through the 'T' in the road and cut through the cemetery. He was so saturated by adrenaline he thought he could taste it. \n\n---------\n\n\"I wonder who the fuck that wa--ahhh!\" Aaron suddenly hit the breaks and veered left, into the median. The front end jolted violently over the cement wall and settled awkwardly, its wheels spinning haplessly above the ground. We weren't hurt, but Aaron's face looked ghastly as he was horrified by what he had seen. Shaking, he looked around in a panic. \"Where is he? Where is he?\" \n\nCompletely beside himself, Aaron climbed out of the window and ran into the night. \n\nI unbuckled myself, unlatched my door--letting it fall to the ground--and squeezed through the ten or so inches the door allowed before stumbling to my feet. \n\nThe car's engine was giving off steam that the breeze carried down the road, illuminated by a yellow light. A dark figure stood in the mist; an unnaturally large silhouette of a man. \n\n---------\n\nIt only took him a minute to fly through the cemetery and come to a halt in the road on the other side. Devon turned the headlight to his dirt bike off and waited as the thief's clunker turned the corner. He could hear the old struts buckling under the pressure.\n\nHe waited until the perfect moment before turning the headlight back on, making it apear as if he manifest out of nothing in the middle of the road. He couldn't have hoped for a more satisfying reaction.\n\nThe loud rust bucket jolted straight into the median, similar to the way a cat might be compelled to run straight into a door. After a moment, the driver climbed out of the door, glanced in his direction, then stumbled away and ran in the opposite direction. Seconds later, the passenger door dropped open, hitting the ground. Someone crawled out and stumbled to their feet.\n\n--------\n\n\"W-w-what the fuck are y-you?\" I asked the spooky figure. \n\nThe silhouette grew in size as it began to move. Then it dispursed, and before me stood a teenage boy. \n\n\"I'm a senior,\" The boy stepped closer. \"You took my project.\"\n\nThen I remembered the shiny, tubular object I was holding before the car hit the median. I pointed to the car and noticed my finger shaking embarrassingly.\n\n\"Thanks.\" The boy said. He took the object, got back on his dirt bike, and drove off. He didn't seem to care about the money, or other items I had taken from his house.\n\nI'm just glad I didn't steal his porn. " ]	[ 1, 5, 32 ]	[ "1545090899", "1545101174", "1545091453" ]
[removed]	[WP] You are an unlikely superhero, because your superpower is this: when you ask anyone a question, they must tell you the complete truth. Today, you began your new day job: White House reporter for CNN.	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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "Hi u/Okesa, this submission has been removed.\n\n[No explicitly sexual responses, hate speech, or other harmful content](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_2.3A_no_explicitly_sexual_responses.2C_hate_speech.2C_or_other_harmful_content)\n\n- Politics: We are not currently allowing political prompts (see rule #7) as the aim of the sub is to encourage people to write and political prompts are leading to arguments instead of stories. \n\n Prompts will be removed if there's a high possibility for rule breaking responses ([rule 7](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_7.3A_prompts_will_be_removed_if_there.27s_a_high_possibility_for_rule_breaking_responses))\n\n\n\n---\n\n[Modmail](https://www.reddit.com/message/compose?to=%2Fr%2FWritingPrompts&subject=Removed%20post&message=https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/a788f9/-/%0A%0A) us if you have any questions or concerns. In the future, please refer to the [sidebar](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/about/sidebar) before posting. \n\nThis action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things." ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1545111754", "1545111923" ]
	[WP] They say that your birthmark is a symbol of how you died in a previous life. Usually lines or scars over the heart and head are common, symbols of strokes and aneurysms. One day you realize that a new mark has just randomly appeared, an equation inscribed into your hand.	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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "I woke up and stood out of bed. The sunrise was peeking through the window blinds, and my alarm hadn’t gone off yet. I sat on my puffy down comforter and breathed in the new day.\n\nAs I glanced around the room, I caught a strange sight out of the side of my eye. I looked down to get a closer look. Upon further inspection, I could see the faint outline of a grouping of symbols. \n\nThey were definitely numbers and letters. I had no idea how they got there, or why they were in that particular arrangement.\n\nI was seriously disturbed by the appearance of these markings, but what are you gonna do? You still have to work and put food on the table. I’d worry about it later.\n\nI forced a bowl of cereal down my mouth, chewing the crunchy Lucky Charms, and putting the marks in the back of my mind. \n\nAfter washing my cereal bowl, I slipped into my suit, which I had laid out on my dining room table. I stepped into my finest dress shoes and opened my front door.\n\nA man was standing there, blocking my exit.\n\n“Hello Mr. Bernard. We’ve been waiting for you.”\n\nWhat the hell?\n\nThe man was tall with pale skin, not a hair on his whole body. He reach out to shake my hand. I grasped it and shook. His hand was cold and weak.\n\n“Can I help you?” I asked.\n\n“Yes, actually you can.”\n\nThe man twisted my arm and tried to take a photo of my arm with the markings. I wrenched my arm away, and rubbed my wrist.\n\n“Who the hell are you? What do you want from me?”\n\n“I am here to retrieve the hidden symbol. It’s been lost, but we tracked it to you.”\n\n“Look mister, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I do now. “I’m late to work, so if you’ll just move aside.”\n\n“I’m afraid I can’t do that.” He showed a glimmer of a gun in his hip holster. \n\nI was unsure of what to do next. Just let him take the picture? screw that, and screw him, I’ve got to go.\n\n“I’m not intimidated by you, so you can just move aside and let me go. Now.”\n\n“It will be easier if you just give me the symbol. There is no other way out of this.”\n\nI considered if I should just let him take the damn picture.\n\n“Fine.”\n\nI revealed the section of my arm the symbols were. Which had disappeared. \n\nThe man looked positively livid. He went for his gun and I went for his hand. We scuffled, and fell to the ground. He yanked hard, and released his gun from my grip. I grabbed the gun again, and in one final burst, he pulled the trigger, and I twisted his hand back toward him. He went limp, and blood pooled below his back.\n\nI got up and stared at this ghostly man on the floor. What was going on, and why did he want to look at the markings on my arm? And how did he find me?\n\n*\n\nThe three men rode in the back of a black Bentley. They all wore black RayBan Wayfarers, and had the appearance of mannequins in a department store.\n\nOne began to speak in a low deep tone: “Did our asset manage to retrieve the alchemist?”\n\n“The treasure is still out of reach. But we have our eyes watching. It won’t be long.”\n\n“Excellent. Our images are too grainy to translate the entire formula. Time is not on our side.”\n\n\n\nI pulled the ghost man into my apartment and sopped up the blood. Luckily the gun had a silencer, and none of my neighbors heard us.\n\nWhen I looked back at my arm the markings reappeared. The marks seemed to return when my skin was cooled down. \n\nI was incredibly curious by this point, and entered some of the symbols into google. I didn’t find anything useful. \n\nI looked through the pale man’s pockets and found a wallet. There was no identification, but there were several business cards and fifty-five dollars cash.\n\nI held up one of the cards. It had two lines:\n\nSeptet Chaggins\n\n555-596-5086\n\nI had nothing to lose. I dialed the number on my cellphone, and waited.\n\n\n\nThe three white men sat in silence. They looked forward, deep in thought. The men were broken out of their thoughts by a loud ringtone. It sounded like an alien spaceship shooting photon torpedoes.\n\n“Yes?”\n\nThere was dead silence.\n\n“Reeder? Is that you? What happened to the alchemist?”\n\nMore silence.\n\nThe phone cut out.\n\n\n\nI threw the phone to the floor and stared at my arm. Alchemist? What’s going on here?\n\nThe formula looked like gibberish to me, but I did recognize the symbol Au after the equal sign.\n\nGold.\n\nGold, alchemist. My mind registered the situation, and my earth shattered. \n\nI’m too valuable to live*.\n\nI dabbed blood off my shoes, and fled my apartment, slamming the door behind me. I wouldn’t be returning.\n" ]	[ 1, 7 ]	[ "1545159932", "1545171058" ]
	[WP] To help out with the new shapeshifter crisis, you've invented a machine that can detect them, the only problem is, it seems to go off on you, it must have been mis-calibrated... right?	8	[ "Off-Topic Discussion: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfill every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n-----\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) \n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) \n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) \n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "Five months, three days, nine hours, 42 minutes and 5 seconds. It works it works it- BEEEEEEEEEEP Oh no oh no oh\n\n\"Whats happening?\" Charlie said, charging in\n\n\"Oh nothing\" I said \"The machine isnt working though, its saying im a shapeshifter! Crazy huh?\"\n\n\"Boss...\"\n\n\"Charlie, what is it\"\n\n\"Are you sure-\"\n\n\"Look Charlie! Ive been in the society of Scientists For Universal Discovery since i was 15! I am to be trusted!\"\n\n\"Ok boss\" \n\nCharlie walked away, I picked up the small device, it was like a watch, it scanned people though. I put it on and left to present it to the King. I walk out of the building to see my mother, all of a sudden BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP\n\n\"Hi honey, umm, whats that?\" said Mother\n\n\"Its an invention, it isnt working though..\"\n\n\"Whats it for?\"\n\n\"Detecting shape shifters.\"\n\nMother gulped... Oh no... Oh no... That cant mean, can it?" ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1545164466", "1545192779" ]
Note: This actually came from a dream. I’ve been wanting to write a short story about this but couldn’t find inspiration. So now I’m sharing this to you all.	[WP] You find a scythe outside your house and gave you the power to see and reap out souls. You used it to help lost souls. Then the owner Reaper shows up because you were supposed to be dead. But since you reaped out many souls, your soul won’t be reaped anymore. You’ll eventually be a reaper.	59	[ "Off-Topic Discussion: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfill every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "A scythe was a tool, something used to harvest grain and crops. If used correctly, the grain cut would fall into a neat bundle on the ground, easily picked up by the men and women behind those cutting. But in dire circumstances, it could become something else, turning from a tool to a weapon, a heartless thing that could kill invading raiders just as easily as it could cut grain.\n\nIt was from the latter use that such a weapon became associated with reapers, and reapers liked it. They found that a scythe worked well in the cutting of soul bonds, adding longer handles to allow for more dramatic sweeps of the blade. It became a staple weapon for the undead guides, one that struck fear and relief into the souls of the departed. But they were never meant to be wielded by a mortal.\n\nI was merely 22, my full life ahead of me, when I found a scythe lying unattended by my door. I had just moved in to a new house as I started my career, ready to take on the world, and I thought someone from my new office was playing a sick trick on me. After all, my boss was called “the soul stealer” because he demanded we worked long hours. So I picked it up, not even questioning it, until I felt the rush of power course up my arm and stab into my heart.\n\nI screamed. It was a sound that should have woken everyone on my block, but I was already ripped from the mortal world and thrown into the spirit one. Most clogged my vision as tears fell, my scream still continuing, until as suddenly as the pain began, it ended. Slowly, I came to my senses and realized I was on the ground, curled in a ball, the scythe still in my right hand. Except, it wasn’t a hand anymore. My eyes widened as I experimentally moved my arm and hand, the ghastly appendage mirroring what I was telling my arm to do. Where flesh had lain, now only bone remained, the affect only tapering off around my shoulder. I could feel it, how the bones rubbed against the short-sleeves of my polo, and I shivered. It was unnatural, weird, inhuman. And that’s when I heard the first sound call out to me.\n\nIt was a feeble sound, but it drew me towards it like the south side of a magnet to another’s north. I rose, stumbling through the mist, down my street, until I reached where the calls were coming from. A house, covered in ivy, abandoned and rotting. I reached to push open the cracked door, but my left hand passed through it like nothing, and my body followed as I stumbled from the lack of resistance. I didn’t have much time to wonder about that, as the voice still called, weakly, like a child. It was downstairs, the kitchen, or what used to be the kitchen. Now it was home to only ruined linoleum and a rusted cast-iron sink sitting in the middle of the floor, sporting a three foot wide hole in the ceiling. And directly underneath the hole was the body of a teenage boy.\n\nI nearly hurled my breakfast into the already ruined sink. The boy’s legs were twisted unnaturally, neck snapped at 90 degrees, and an arm pinned under his back in a way that shouldn’t have been possible. It was all two clear what had happened: ten foot fall from ceiling to kitchen floor, and glancing through the rotten boards he had fallen through, I saw more broken boards two or three floors above the ground floor. Multiple impacts, maximum damage, and then death. I didn’t want to think about it.\n\n“Help, please!”\n\nThe childlike voice, a sound of terror, sorrow, and pain, came from the slowly pulsing blue orb above the boy’s body. I stared at it, mesmerized by the sight of my first human soul, and instinctively knowing what it was. I could see the cord tethering it to the body, a thin wisp of blue from the heart to the orb, but no matter how the orb pulled on it to get to me, the cord wouldn’t break or budge.\n\n“Please!”\n\nI didn’t know what it was asking, what it needed, but I knew what I had to do. It was as if the scythe in my hands was giving me the knowledge, guiding my body as I raised it, steadied myself, and then swung. The blade cut through the cord like it was thin air, and the spirit immediately shot away from the body like a rocket. It went straight up, back through the holes the body had come from, and then through the ceiling. As it departed, I heard it whisper softly, almost tearfully.\n\n“Thank you.”\n\nI merely nodded.\n\n————————————————————\n\nFor months, I kept what I began to think of as my scythe, traveling between the mortal and soul worlds, reaping souls whenever they called. I began to realize that time didn’t pass for me in the mortal world as I acted in the soul one, and I abused that a little in traveling from place to place on foot. Still, the scythe did have an effect. Every time I used it, my skeletal appearance grew, keeping over my chest, face, and other arm. I looked like a skeleton now, but only in the soul world. In the mortal realm, I was just me, a simple businessman with a knack for his job. It was like that until the day I should have died.\n\nIt was a runaway bus, it careened into the sidewalk near my office building where I was walking to get a coffee from the mom and pop store next door. At least ten people were hit, and everyone else on the bus died when the engine sparked and set the spilled gasoline from the gas tank on fire. I should have died during the initial deaths, should have been hit. Except my scythe, which always hung heavily on my back invisible to mortal eyes, saved me. It dragged me to soul world with milliseconds to spare, and I dodged out of the way. Returning to the mortal world, I did everything to get those still in the bus out, but had to retreat when the gas flared up and the heat became unbearable. I’ll never forget the screams, or having to enter the spirit world and reap their lost souls. That was when I met him.\n\nAnother reaper showed up to help, or maybe they were unaware I was there. Either way, we worked together, cutting the souls away from their bodies, until non remained. Then he looked at me with an odd look in his vacant eyes, his skull-like visage grinning through bleached teeth.\n\n“I see you found my scythe,” he said, the words an odd mixture of clicks of bone on bone and a human voice. “And I can tell you’ve reaped many souls.”\n\n“I have,” was my honest answer, and I realized my voice wasn’t all that different from his. Although my tongue was still present, so my syllables were more smooth than staccato.\n\n“You should be dead,” was the reaper’s next statement. There was no arguing it, just a statement of fact, and I nodded. “You got lucky the scythe took a liking to you. It’s not every day it chooses a new mortal.”\n\n“Chooses?”\n\n“Yes, you’re a chosen. A future reaper. And then one for all eternity until you’re scythe chooses someone new.”\n\n“Then how are you here?” I asked, motioning to his scythe.\n\n“I had a backup,” he replied with a chuckle, his bones rattling with his laughter. “I was chosen twice. I blessing and a curse in a way.”\n\n“And what of me?” The reaper immediately became serious, his dead eyes humorless now.\n\n“You will continue to live your life,” the reaper solemnly said. “When you finally die, your souls will not be reaped. Instead, your scythe will claim it, and you will become a reaper. Then, for all eternity, you will free the souls of the dead, never able to free your own until the next reaper to take your scythe reaps it. That is your curse.”\n\nI don’t remember much after that, but those words still haunt me. Every time I reap a soul, I hear the whispered thanks, I become more and more aware that that will never be me. Or at least, not for millennia to come. I know my time is near now too, my body almost fully skeletal, my movements both in the mortal and soul worlds slower and pained. Age waits for no one, and one day it will claim me, as it does to anyone lucky enough to reach long years. But I’m okay with it. I’m okay with becoming a reaper. For while every thanks reminds me of my fate, it also encourages me, for I know one more soul has been released to its final resting place.\n\nWho knows, maybe one day I will even reap your soul, mortal.", "A soul trapped to a dead body is an ugly sight.\n\nI stared at the old lady who was hovering above the decaying corpse in flat 58A, Windsor St. She kept shouting.\n\n\"Someone... please, anyone! I've fallen and I can't get up!\"\n\nHer spirit voice sounded hoarse from the shouting, and weak from the hunger. I glanced at the cat near the corpse, who had started nibbling from the body.\n\nI sighed. Reapers are said to have a soft spot for cats. Not me.\n\nThe old lady seemed to finally sense my presence.\n\n\"Young man... please. I think I broke a hip. The phone ran out... as I tried to call...\"\n\nThe spirit started weeping, and her sorrow materialised in damp, leaking from the ceiling. I forced a smile.\n\n\"Don't worry, miss. Everything will be alright.\"\n\nI raised the scythe I'd found, and a familiar sense of power filled me. I honed it to the blade of the scythe. The old lady's ghost had managed to get as far as to the phone on the wall, but of course she had been unable to pick it up. At best there would be static on the phone.\n\n\"Thank you, young man. Thank you.\"\n\nI cut the tie to her decaying body. It became harder to sever the further they'd managed to stray from their place of death, but the old lady's spirit was still easily set free. She smiled as she dissolved into the air.\n\nI resisted the urge to chase the cat away from the body. There was no point now. It seemed to finally notice me, and stared at me. I shook my head and headed back outside.\n\nThe flat no longer creaked, now the old lady's spirit had departed, but mists still cloaked the street outside. I grimaced and looked at my hands. They seemed more bone-like with every use of the scythe. And yet I couldn't resist helping the spirits the scythe made me see.\n\nHow long had it been now, since I found it? Ages, it seemed.\n\nThe first one had been a young girl, hovering above a river.\n\nMy memory was hazy on the encounter, but I recall being struck by the impossibility of it. A young girl, walking the water like Christ reborn. She seemed familiar to me, and called out:\n\n\"Help. I'm drowning.\"\n\nSorrow had filled me, and the scythe had been there, had found its way to my hands somehow. And the mists had been there. Somehow the scythe attracted mist.\n\n\"Don't worry,\" I'd said. \"Everything will be alright.\"\n\nHer spirit had been much harder to set free. She had strayed further from her body, and the soul-line had been strong, stretched taut and almost imperceptible.\n\nI looked up into the mist. A figure was approaching. A hooded figure.\n\n\"So,\" he called. \"It's you.\"\n\nI took a step back. Under the hood, his grin at me had seemed just a bit too wide. Just too pale.\n\n\"I wondered who else had been Reaping.\"\n\nI frowned at him. \"You're a spirit.\" I relaxed slightly. \"I can set you free.\"\n\nThe hooded figure grinned and shook its head. \"It's too late for that. Too late for us both.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\nThe hooded figure produced a scythe of its own, and I caught my breath. Another Reaper. He turned and stared at the setting sun, veiled behind dark clouds and the city skyline. \"I died long ago, and strayed too far. My soul-line is gone.\" He turned to me. \"So is yours. I tried to reach the river in time, when I heard what happened. But you had gone already.\"\n\nI frowned. \"What?\"\n\nThe mist swirled around us, and I caught the faintest glimpse of the skull underneath the hood. The grin of death. \"You dived in after your sister to try to save her. You both drowned. They were unable to find your bodies due to the strong current.\"\n\nI took a step back. The young girl, my first spirit, rose in my memory again. She had seemed so familiar. And I had wanted to help her so badly.\n\n\"That's how the scythe forms, you know,\" the other Reaper said. \"A spirit's will to cut its tie to the mortal life. Yet some spirits desire to stay, despite the pain. Your love for your sister made you stay.\"\n\nI glanced at the scythe in my hand. At the white knuckle-bones.\n\n\"It's regrettable,\" the Reaper said. \"I don't wish my kind of existence on anyone.\"\n\nI looked behind me, for my own soul-line. But I realised the truth quickly. I had strayed too far. I heard something purring, and noticed a pitch-black cat, striding past me. The Reaper opposite me bent down to stroke its back with bony hands.\n\n\"I suggest you find a companion. Our existence can be lonely.\"\n\nI nodded. Not a cat. But a crow, perhaps.\n\nThe Reaper strode past me, and I only noticed now that he hadn't been wearing a classic grim reaper's cloak, but a black hoodie, burned and fraying at the sleeves. Smoke followed him. He patted my shoulder.\n\n\"Be seeing you around.\"\n\nI watched him go, the black cat trailing behind, until both of them turned the corner. Then I also left.\n\nAnd the mist followed.\n\n\\--\n\nr/Writeful_heir" ]	[ 1, 3, 20 ]	[ "1545209813", "1545241052", "1545214928" ]
	[WP] Santa is real, and his existense as a wholesome gift-giver is known to everyone. But at the height of the Cold War, Santa's status as a friend to all has to be questioned.	13	[ "Off-Topic Discussion: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfill every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "The president slams the dull, standard yellow folder on a glossed table. It makes an astounding thud that echoes through the assembly of confused men in suits.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Three minutes to midnight, and we haven't made a lick of progress on securing our airspace.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nThe frustration was hard to deny, it was imprinted in JFK's face via a vivid shade of hot pink. No one dared to make a sound - or a movement for the matter, as everyone firmly dedicated their backsides to the seats as the reek of sweat starts to accumulate as a consequence on the cold day. On christmas eve.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nJFK seemingly pulls out documents from thin air, slamming down more sheets of paper - this time pictures. It was blurry, being taken from a spy plane at the altitude still unknown to the soviets, but as much as the fuming man was furious, he was also confident.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"I would advise you to take a good look at these photos shot by our U-2, over AirBaseControl28 in Russia.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nA simple glance would give you enough information to infer what the soviets are up to. Among the snow on the hard ashfield ground, a unmistakable 'sleigh' sat comfortably in the picture, with people passing along present nonchalantly to load up the infamous gold-red sleigh, with what looks like interesting side boosters in place of certain gold plates with a clear attempt of camouflaging them.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nThe silence was broken as the first mutter started, hastily followed by others after observing no eruption from JFK.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nSLAM! He was back in the mood. JFK cleared his throat. There was a clear tone of insomnia and stress underlying his disguised calm voice. \n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"There won't be ham and pudding tonight for the sake of america, and for the sake of the world, so I say that you take up the phones and call your wives - starting with mine.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nThere was a slight jostle and scramble as the board felt the sweet relief from their sweat soaked cushions, hurriedly making their way to the table of neatly placed phones.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Tomson Jeffery?\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nThe military commander awkwardly and abruptly sprung straight as a stick on the path to the phones, eyes still darted straight ahead to the cream wall as the communications officer bumped from behind him.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"I want air defense at DEFCON 2. Dismissed.\"" ]	[ 1, 2 ]	[ "1545222377", "1545225924" ]
	[WP] You are an angel that has been banished from Heaven. You must now roam Earth and become worthy to return to Heaven. The only problem is, you have amnesia. You know you were an angel and that you were banished, but you can’t seem to remember why...	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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "Slowly opening the slits of her eyes, still blinking to the rays of light been thrown at from a distant streetlight, Donna push her efforts to the edge to get up. After about ten minutes of staring into the light she has a flashback,\n\n[In the flashback]\n\n\"You cannot be trusted anymore, you have defied us thrice, you are not worthy of this status, GUARDS!!, Pick her up and throw her at a random planet filled with gross severity of mankind\"\n\n\"Say no more\" \n\n....\n\n[Returning to her senses]\n\n(To herself) \" I was an angel!, What the hell went wrong! I need to find where the fuck I am\"\n\nAs she drags herself to the end of the lane, she is greeted by a man, a man so dirty and filled with despair that it seems life has been sucked out of him. She having no clue what people are like on this planet, approaches the man slowly and carefully. \n\n\"Hello young man.\"\n\n\" Huh, ME?\"\n\n\"Yes you Mr..?\"\n\n\"Charles, Charles Dow\"\n\n\"Hello Mr. Dow, my name is Donna, where am I?\"\n\n\"Brooklyn\"\n\n\"Thats weird, I have never heard of a planet named Brooklyn..\"\n\n\"Wait, what? Planet? Umm, ma'am are you alright?\"\n\n\"I am quite alright Mr. Dow, I need to know what is this planet ?\"\n\n(In his head)\" This is probably the girl who escaped the asylum last night, she has a bounty of $10000, I gotta need that money\" \"You are on Earth\"\n\n\"Oh, alright, this means I must have committed a level 8 breach, Damn! What the Fuck was I up to, I would need your help, Mr. Dow\"\n\n\"Sure, I would love to help you ma'am, what was your name again \"\n\n\"My name's Donna and I am an Angel\"\n\n(Cracking up)\" Sure you are Ms. Donna\"\n\n\"I guess I was banished here on Earth probably because of some high level security level breach\"\n\n\"I am sorry about that, I know a place which may help you Ms. Donna\"\n\n\"That would be very kind, I must become worthy again before I am welcomed again in Heaven\"\n\n\"That seems right, come let's go now\"\n\nThey walk for two miles without having any contact whatsoever.\n\nDonna-\" Where is this place we're going to?\"\n\n\"This would help you be worthy again\"\n\n\"Okay, that will be good\"\n\n\"Sure\"\n\nThey walk for another 2 miles and finally come at halt in front of a giant building, with walls of 20 feet and fenced with barbed wires.\n\nDonna- \" You sure we are at the right place?\"\n\n\"Yeah I am sure\"\n\nThey approach the gate and walk towards the reception.\n\nMr. Dow-\" Ahem! I would like to claim the prize of $10000, as I have brought with me the one who escaped\"\n\nReceptionist- \" And where is this lady Sir ?\n\nMr. Dow points at her from a distance while Donna is busy reading the bulletin board.\n\nReceptionist- \" Let me call the security sir and the warden, they would be helpful as I am not sure of her identity, she was kept in the level 8 which is the max security level we have\"\n\nMr. Dow- \"Sure the level 8, yeah.\"\n\nReceptionist makes two calls and within 3 minutes 5 guards and one lady walked up to them.\n\nReceptionist pointing towards Donna-\" There she is, take her in\"\n\nGuards run and grab her. \n\nDonna- I demand you to leave me right away or else you would suffer.\n\nWarden approaches her but it was late, Donna overpowered them and was in mid-air and shooting lasers from her eyes towards them only to injure them.\n\nWarden-\" WAIT! THATS NOT HER!\"\n\nDonna- \" Who her?\"\n\nWarden-\"Emily\"\n\nDonna- \" I am Donna\" \n\nDonna looks at Mr. Dow who is gaping at her, she comes down clicks and warden, guards and receptionist fall to the ground.\n\nMr. Dow- \"I am sorry, I didn't know, please let me go, I AM SORRY\"\n\nDonna-\" Let's get out of here, they would not remember a thing when they'll wake up\"\n\nBoth of them exit the scene.\n\nMr. Dow- I am sorry, but Who are you EXACTLY?\n\nDonna- \"I told you, my name is Donna and I am an Angel, I was banished here from heaven for some breach and I need to be worthy again before I am welcomed there again\"\n\nMr. Dow-\" I am sorry, I didn't believe you before, how can I help you?\"\n\nDonna- \" I need to be worthy again, for that I need to make at least one person happy.\"\n\nMr. Dow- \"I am poor, I have no job, let me find one!\"\n\nDonna- \" That would not do it, besides, I have limited to power,just to defend myself, I cannot provide you with money or anything else, besides material happiness would not suffice my worthiness, it needs to be more energetic and divine. Tell me Mr. Dow, what else do you desire?\"\n\nMr. Dow- \" Umm, this is weird but for a very long time, I had no contact with a female, I have been longing some female companionship..\"\n\nDonna-\"I don't really understand what you mean Mr. Dow.\"\n\nMr. Dow-\" I have not had sex in a while, and I have been desiring that for a long time now.\"\n\nDonna-\" OH! Umm, well, Let's see, boy this is weird, I have never slept with anyone other than my race, though I have heard people telling me that it is good, the things earth people do, is quite aphrodisiac\"\n\nMr. Dow- \" Aphrodisiac!?, I am sure angels would have sex more elegantly.\"\n\nDonna-\" No, that's the one thing we lack, we have sex quite like monsters, the energy that is released while having sex makes us violent.\"\n\nMr. Dow-\" Well, that's weird\"\n\nDonna- \"But I gotta, get out of here and I think having sex with you and providing you with utmost pleasure and happiness would make me worthy again.\"\n\nMr. Dow- \" I am sure of that.\"\n\nDonna starts stripping.\n\nMr. Dow-\" No,no,no not.here\"\n\nDonna - \" Okay, where?\"\n\nMr. Dow- \"I know a place\"\n\nThey walk up to a cheap motel and take a room. For and hour they make love and after that Donna sings a spell with weird hand gestures and a light appears from the sky and takes her.\n\n\n{This is the first time I have written something, please excuse for any mistake and I am open for suggestions which would help me write better, given English is not my primary language}" ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1545228474", "1545235315" ]
[removed]	[WP] you work at a reincarnation center, one time you realize that you have forgotten to wipe a soul’s memory and it was sent to its own timeline with the opposite gender, you want to retrieve the soul by creating a car accident but it has become somewhat invincible with its foreknowledge.	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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "Hi u/JaskaranSullivan, this submission has been removed.\n\n[No recent reposts, even if changing small details](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_5.3A_no_recent_reposts.2C_even_if_changing_small_details)\n\nAlso, no [copy-cats](http://i.imgur.com/38FjDgW.gifv).\n\nSearch 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\nhttps://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/a73mdm/wp_reincarnation_exists_and_encompasses_all/\n\n\"Reincarnate but remember past lives\" is a pretty common theme around here\n\n\n\n---\n\n[Modmail](https://www.reddit.com/message/compose?to=%2Fr%2FWritingPrompts&subject=Removed%20post&message=https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/a7nn2p/-/%0A%0A) us if you have any questions or concerns. In the future, please refer to the [sidebar](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/about/sidebar) before posting. \n\nThis action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things." ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1545235015", "1545235323" ]
[removed]	[WP] One morning you wake up and feel weird. Something is different. You get out of bed and suddenly everything around you is huge. You’re looking up at the bed and see yourself lying there. But which body are you in? What happened and what can you do to return to normality?	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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "Hi u/comeoneileen95, this submission has been removed.\n\n[Direct prompt replies must be good-faith attempts at new stories or poems](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_1.3A_direct_prompt_replies_must_be_good-faith_attempts_at_new_stories_or_poems)\n\n- Fill-in-the-blank: Responses must be at least 100 words. 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 Prompts will be removed if there's a high possibility for rule breaking responses ([rule 7](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_7.3A_prompts_will_be_removed_if_there.27s_a_high_possibility_for_rule_breaking_responses))\n\nWhen you ask a question in a prompt, people just tend to answer it (e.g. \"Turned into a baby\") instead of writing a story\n\n\n\n---\n\n[Modmail](https://www.reddit.com/message/compose?to=%2Fr%2FWritingPrompts&subject=Removed%20post&message=https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/a7q1ta/-/%0A%0A) us if you have any questions or concerns. In the future, please refer to the [sidebar](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/about/sidebar) before posting. \n\nThis action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things." ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1545250259", "1545250775" ]
	[WP] After you became a god, eons later your universe ended, and only you remained. When the new universe began, you figured you'd help shape it into something better than the one you left behind. But you never met any other gods, and you're going to have to learn by doing.	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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "First there was something. Then there was nothing. Then there was something again.\n\nThat first universe was surely a practice round for me, as evidenced by the new one. Hooray for me. Okay, no problem, let's just start with something simple this time... big bang! Right, almost forgot... done. Alright, total energy is at its peak, all matter that will ever be has been dispersed, and time begins, clock is officially running.\n\nOkay, let that initial cloud of gas separate into more clouds, let those start separating, more separating, clouds become spinning rings of cloud become tiny tiny specks. Sooo many of them. Good god, which is me, a good god, I'm totally nailing it this time. Boo yeah. Taking it nice and slow.\n\nI think... yeah, life totally just started on one of those specks, lets take a closer look... yep, that's life alright. Tiny tiny life, only other thing that thinks, well, that will think anyway. Kinda boring. Okay, speeding up... there we are, got those first brains. Still pretty boring, speeding ahead... duh duh duh duuuuuuh annnnnnnnnd... stop the clock. Okay where are we in evolution now? lets see, hairless apes, walking around, killing all the whales, yep those are humans alright. That there be humans... god they're revolting, just look at that one, motherfucker you cheat on your cancer-ridden wife then blame the kid for driving you two apart? Think that shit is gonna fly when big momma god is here? No siree, this time I'm totally gonna be around to stop all the injustice...wait what year is it? How long ago did they nail that guy to some wood for saying to love each other? (They do it every cycle, jeez, humans) Did I miss it? Shit, I missed that whole holocaust thing! I always forget to be around for that! Fuck! Nope. Not doing this one, do-over, total do-over. Alright lets just throw in an early supernova. Yeah, you know what? fuck it, whole universe, lets just have heat-death come early this time, all stars go supernova and expend all energy left in the universe as heat please, cool. Alright, now to just sit back and wait for the next round. Totally gonna nail it this time." ]	[ 1, 7 ]	[ "1545266901", "1545274952" ]
	[WP]You better not shout, pout or cry, and I'll tell you why: Santa Claus is coming to town, and he can smell your fear.	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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "All the old man ever did was drink too much and thrash me with his belt. And that was on a good day. On bad days, it was worse. so much worse.\n\nIt was Christmas. Well, it was supposed to be Christmas, anyway. All Christmas is in my house is another day, another beating, another long night spent in fear. After it happens to you enough times, you start to think- this is just the way it is. I deserve this.\n\nThat's just how life is.\n\nAll the other kids got excited for Christmas. They'd come to school talking about their new video games and toys. Not me. We didn't have games and toys.\n\nThat's just how life is.\n\nOther kids played sports, did all these cool things, went on vacations. A lot of them had phones and talked to their friends all the time. Not me, I wasn't allowed to have friends, or a phone, or play sports. I barely was allowed to raise my eyes from the floor. Any challenge to his authority, even with a gaze, was met with severe punishment.\n\nThat's just how life is.\n\nThe last time I saw my father was that Christmas Eve. I was hiding under my bed because the old man was on a rampage. He'd just finished whipping my mom, and had settled in for another night with his god-damned bottle. I was quaking in fear because I just knew at any moment, I would be next.\n\nI didn't know the Christmas rules. No one ever told me I was supposed to be asleep.\n\nI had been hiding under there for a long time. Too long. I really needed to go to the bathroom but I was scared to even let him see me. But if I peed on the floor, he'd probably beat me and lock me in the closet again, and I might not ever get out. So I took a chance and tried to sneak to the restroom. But it was no use. He saw me.\n\n\"C'mere boy!\" he bellowed, half slurring. Knowing that I had no choice, I meekly walked to him. He was shirtless in his chair, a pile of empty beer cans around him. I could hardly meet his eyes.\n\n\"Sir?\"\n\n\"Here.\" He threw a $20 towards me. \"Run on down to the corner and get me another case.\"\n\n\"Dad...\" I said softly, knowing there was no escape. \"They won't sell to me cause I'm a kid.\"\n\n\"Th'hell did I say?!\" He exploded into motion, and his belt was in his hand already. I flinched and turned away, as I waited for the pain to streak across my back and thighs.\n\nThe belt never hit me. I just heard it slump to the floor, and for the first time in a long, long time, I dared to raise my eyes.\n\nAn impossibly large man, dressed in soot-stained red, held my father off the floor by the throat. He looked just like...\n\n\"You better watch out.\" his voice was deep, thunderous, menacing. For the first time in my life, I saw fear enter my old man's eyes. \"And you better not cry.\"\n\nMy father tried to say something that might have been curse words, but it came out as a strangled gurgle. Choking, he slapped ineffectually at the large man's arms. His swings got weaker and slower as his oxygen supply dwindled, and his eyes slipped to a close. Then, he was released and collapsed to the dirty floor with a loud thump - unconscious.\n\n\"A piece of coal is not enough for a... being... like you.\" The man in red rumbled. \"I have something more special for you. A lifetime, in my coal mine.\"\n\nThen he crouched down next to me and smiled, a impossibly warm smile, and somehow I knew, I had nothing to dread.\n\n\"I've never gotten a letter from you.\" He said.\n\n\"I... I know.\"\n\n\"It's okay.\"\n\nHe reached into his large red sack and removed a small box, rapped with a delicate bow. \"Here.\" He placed the box in my hand. \"Things will be better, young man. You and your mother take care of each other. Merry Christmas.\"\n\nI gazed at the box in wonder. I'd never gotten a real Christmas gift before. It was the most beautiful thing I'd seen in my life. \"T...thank you\" I managed to stammer, and looked up.\n\nHe, and my father, were gone.\n\nI knew I couldn't possibly explain this in the morning when mom awoke. I didn't even know where, or how to begin. But I believed him when he told me things would be alright. Somehow, I just knew that he was right.\n\nFumbling with the paper, I opened the gift that he gave me.\n\nIt was what I always wanted." ]	[ 1, 4 ]	[ "1545313869", "1545321279" ]
	[WP] "My child's still in there!" cries the woman as your partner holds her back from running into the burning house. You know it's too dangerous to go in, but your body moves before you think. You enter the house. The child's nowhere to be found, but there's a pentagram drawn on their bedroom floor	74	[ "Off-Topic Discussion: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfill every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "With the mother screams fresh in my ears, I rushed into the burning house dousing flames as I went.\n\n“KEVIN” I bellow through my respirator as I make my way through the inferno. I search the house and found nothing till the floor collapsed beneath my feet. I struggle to stand among the debris when I see a pentagram on the basement floor.\n\n“What the fuck?” I question before the the roof begins to creak and crack. I lunge forward to avoid the collapse.\nI fall\n\nI fall far more than I could ever imagine. I land in a heap on solid ground that reeks of brimstone. I look up and see a visage of hell roaring. I pick myself up and crawl to the nearest rock to escape its sight. New company was found with a skeleton clad in green armor. With a double barrel shotgun across the skeleton’s lap. I grab it and the shells before rising up to face the avatar of hell.\n\n“KEVIN!!!” I yell as I fire both shells into the demon while heavy metal begins to play.\nThe Katy Volunteer Fire Department never quits\n\n\nFirst time ever responding to a WP. Also on mobile. Criticism welcomed \n\nEdit: realized how to break up the paragraphs ", "I entered the charred black house. The outside was ghost-white, a stark contrast to the blackening interior.\n\nI hurled myself into the pit of the roiling beast, desperately searching for an innocent woman's child.\n\nChecked the bathroom. Nothing. Checked the Bedrooms. Nothing. I thought I heard a cry in the kitchen. There I saw it.\n\nA giant bloody pentagram, covering the beige tiled floor. Blood covered the counter tops, the refrigerator... even the sink was pooled with it.\n\nI slipped on a puddle of the red soupy pools, and gripped my chest. Where was he? She said he would be in here. Shit, what was his name? Chester? Chad?.\n\n\"Is anybody here?\"\n\nI walked up to the kitchen window, which gave a dark view of an ashen back yard. Dry gray specks were drifting out into plain view, turning this building into a ruin.\n\nI couldn't breathe, but I couldn't leave either. I'd committed myself. I wasn't leaving without the child.\n\nCharles!. That was the name!\n\n\"Charles! Are you in here?\" \n\nI tried to put the enormous bloody pentagram out of my mind, but it haunted my subconscious. \n\nI moved toward the back of the home. Fire was licking at my legs, and an antique print of a flower was burning. A burning bush, I thought.\n\nI hesitated, then started to climb the staircase. Smoke rises. Shit.\n\nMy throat was clogged with ash and heat. I could feel it constricting.\n\n\"Charles!\" I searched the hallway that seemed to melt around me. I wondered if I was becoming delirious. I was a man obsessed. \n\nI pushed on a door to what I assumed was a bedroom. It creaked and bellowed.\n\nInside was a bed on fire. I could see the form of a human in the back corner. He stepped forward. He was holding a little nine year old boy in his arms. \n\n\"Put him down.\"\n\n\"Not a good idea is it? To lay a child on a burning bed?\" the man said.\n\n\"Give him to me. His mother is dying over this.\"\n\n\"Isn't that a shame. We all die, don't we?\"\n\nI felt I was going mad. Rage filled me to the brim. I was losing patience. And oxygen.\n\nI could no longer speak. I was blacking out. I stumbled forward.\n\nI fell to the ground. Nobody heard me scream. I wasn't sure if I had died as I fell through the floor.\n\nI woke up on the living room floor, downstairs. A hole was on the ceiling above. The hole I had fallen though God knows how long ago. \n\nI could breath a bit more down here, but I was still resolute about finding this damn kid. The man looked insane. He had a gothic clothing. All black, with a pale face and nose ring. The type of ring a bull might wear in it's snout.\n\nI looked up again. The gothic man was staring down at me. He gave a hidden smile. A smile I felt, but didn't see.\n\nI reached my hand skyward, hoping to grab hold of the child in his arms. \n\nThen he was gone. \n\nI went back to the kitchen. Not the kid's blood. Thank God.\n\nThere's no way anybody upstairs would still be alive.\n\nI went outside to get a breath of clean air. The mother was despondent. \n\n\"A man just climbed down the side of the house, from my bedroom. He was terrifying. I froze. There's nothing I could do.\" She wailed and screamed, and I took off running in the direction she pointed.\n\nI ran and ran, down the dirt path. It led to a clearing, and beyond me was a rickety wooden fence. Bloody footsteps lead to a dilapidated barn in the distance.\n\nI followed with caution, eager but terrified at the same time. I heard a great number of people in the distance, and a cacophony of heavy metal music. It grew louder and louder as I approached.\n\nThe barn was a rough red. Barn red, it was called. Seemed appropriate. I often became distracted by architectural design, but this left a dull, bitter taste in my mouth. \n\nI didn't want to see what was awaiting in the barn. It was dark, but light glowed from within. The heavy metal was loud. Jarring.\n\nI went up to a slitted opening in the wall. Twisted nails stuck out through the aperture.\n\nI could see a small slice of the interior. Ten people, all male, were huddled in a circle. Around something. I saw a nine year old boy in the center.\n\nI could barely make out what they were chanting. It sounded like they were praying to the boy. A twisted joke of Satanism? A cult perhaps?\n\nWhatever they were, I could deduce that they were clinically insane... or just confused. \n\nOne man in a black cape stood above all the others, holding a long sharp saber. He said something I couldn't completely make out, but I heard the phrase \"virgin sacrifice\".\n\nI knew I had to act. I'd already come this far.\n\n\"Step away now, or there will ten sacrifices tonight!\" I yelled.\n\nThey twisted their gaze toward me, and gave a ten-fold smile.\n\n\"We have an audience tonight,\" the head Satanist said.\n\nI tightened my fists. I was outnumbered ten-to-one.\n\nThen the boy spoke. \"Let him go. Keep me, but let the man go,\" the child muttered.\n\n\"The child has spoken. You may go on your way. Forget everything you've seen,\" said the head Satanist.\n\nThe music was so loud I only heard the word \"go\". The last thing I would do tonight.\n\n\"No,\" I said.\n\nThe Satanists all looked at the boy in unison. The boy said something to them that I could not hear, but they all nodded in recognition.\n\nThe boy walked over to me. \"Mister, these men are crazy. What do I do?\"\n\nI told him to calmly tell them he needed to talk to me. Alone. They nodded, and I pulled him behind the barn door.\n\nI touched his shoulders.\n\n\"Are you hurt?\"\n\n\"My throat hurts. It hurts to breathe.\"\n\n\"That's the smoke.\" I was terrified he might suffer a heart attack, or worse. The combination of stress and carbon monoxide could have that effect.\n\n\"I'll offer myself. Then you can run away, and never look back,\" I said.\n\n\"No mister, I'm not leaving you.\"\n\nI sighed, and took stock of the situation. We couldn't possibly outrun them by foot. Unless...\n\nI picked him up, and sprinted away from the barn. The gothic Satanists apparently didn't see us leave until we were hopping the wrecked fence. \n\nThey wailed and hollered, running in pursuit. Thank God I've spent countless hours running the treadmill, I thought. I knew I couldn't return to the house. That would be expected.\n\nWe took refuge behind an oversized oak tree. We saw them pass, then doubled back toward the barn. They wouldn't be doing this again.\n\nI slipped my lighter out of my pocket, and ignited a handful of dry straw. I lit the barn ablaze, and ran with Charles in my arms.\n\nWe ran like prize horses through the meadows and fields, stopping only to catch our breaths. We could see a barn blazing on the horizon, but wouldn't stop for God himself.\n\n***\n\nThe following day, I got into contact with the police, and Charles' mother, in that order. They took Charles into custody, and released him to his mother.\n\nI didn't receive any accolades, for I didn't desire any attention. I left Charles off at the police station, then drove off, away from town. Away from the twisted hordes of demented cults.\n\n\"So that's why I'm here today, doc.\"\n\nThe doctor asked me how I felt. He was scribbling on his pad, ready to prescribe another anti-anxiety prescription.\n\n\"I feel good. But my throat's a bit dry.\"" ]	[ 1, 2, 10 ]	[ "1545316875", "1545348582", "1545327131" ]
	[WP] Time was never linear, our brains just make it seem that way for convenience. You learnt that after an unfortunate head injury damaged the section of your brain responsible for making time make sense.	68	[ "Off-Topic Discussion: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfill every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "I was walking down a busy street of a city. It was cold, and I was young again, which was nice. I wondered what was going to happen this time. I looked through the crowd and didn't recognize any faces. I looked at the buildings, New York. Ok. That's a start, and, where am I going? I am on the sidewalk, and my feet are facing one direction. So, it seemed the logical direction to go. \n\n \"In 50 feet, turn right.\" a voice said in my ear. It was Siri! Oh man, how that voice brought me back. I still had my iPhone, this was before Apple collapsed! It couldn't be more than six months after the accident. I bet I was headed for the neurology clinic where I had spent so much time right after the accident. A quick look at my iPhone confirmed it. It had been so long since I had been back here. Excitement started to build in me, I wondered why I was here. I hadn't come back this far in time for so long. There must be some important decision to make.\n\n That's what time really was you see. Decisions and consequences in a long chain for as long as you are alive. Once you make a big decision, you flow down the consequences all at once like an avalanche until your at the bottom of that hill. Then, you have to make the next decision and flow down its consequences. Problem is that your next decision thrums back through all the time you spend on the last decision, and all that time adjusts to fit. It's a bit like tuning forks matching each other in an empty room. The problem is that everyone else doesn't see it that way. They mash all their decisions together and splice them in so they don't have to hear the tuning part. They just hear the whole final product, all the overtones and undertones, the harmonies and the discordance without ever really seeing where it comes from. The live their lives listening to the time radio while I can see the whole sound board. The problem is I have to go through it all track by track and hope I don't muck it all up.\n\n I feel so sorry for my whole family. I had made a decision to drive home from the bar and was in that consequence flow when the accident happened. That was the first flow I had to live through. Most of it confused and in hospital beds surrounded by faces I didn't recognize or aged beyond belief. I cried so often, and there were so many different doctors. I hadn't understood then. I went horrified and terrified about how much of my life I had lost when I finally died. Then, I was back and young again. I was so confused to be staring at an old professor about my math scores. I thought I had just had some dream, and my confusion startled the aged teacher. He told me to take some time to think about how much I wanted to consider pursuing his classes. I didn't have to think much at all. I knew how much I would need the best medical care, and I promised to redouble my efforts. I did and I was soon in my career flow. That was actually pretty easy. I flowed from studying to testing instantly, from hearing advice from my professors to a job interview seamlessly. I didn't even need to sleep much. I would just flow solidly from work day to work day devoted to projects. It was a little hard not having answers to questions like, \"how's the kids?\" or \"why are you late?\" but my co-workers soon seemed to realize my limitations and just accepted my weird memory. It was always a little weird to me how much more they seemed to know about my life than me. I finished my career with so many awards and accomplishments, and I'm still proud about it. However, that flow ended with my retirement and it was the next one that was the most important.\n\n I was brought back to a conversation with my boss about my condition. I was trying to explain to him how time really was, but it didn't work. I decided that I needed to write a book so people would understand. That flow gave me the time to really think about things, and, for me to understand what I was really going through. After that, the other flows had been so much easier to handle.\n\n I really wasn't sure how many decisions I had left to flow through. There couldn't be too many hills left to climb, but here I was in New York again. This was even before college. I took a moment to close my eyes and listen to the thrum of my memories. Sometimes, I could feel the things that were missing. Especially, as I moved through more flows, I could feel how the decisions I made or didn't were tuning everything else I remembered. The memories felt weird this time, expectant, like the thrum of this decision or its lack was making all my other memories waver. I started to get nervous.\n\n Most of the time, when a decision came it was obvious and right in front of me. What decision was there in walking to therapy? I kept my feet walking and turned again as my phone directed me as I tried to pour through my other memories. I was hoping for some hint or some sign of what I had to choose. Then, I felt it like a jerk on my spine. All my memories seemed to shift and take darken. Whole conversations that I previously had seemed to crash into me, the words garbling and changing, the memories trying to tune. I had never felt a thrum so powerful before. I felt like whole parts of other flows were darkening or becoming painful to remember. I tried to keep my feet below me, but I staggered. My hand made contact with someone's wrist and I hung on like a drunken sailor. I must have pulled hard because I heard a sharp cry from where I had grabbed.\n\n I felt another hand grab mine to try and force me to let go with a string of curses. I mumbled an apology, but I couldn't let go. Whole lifetimes were throbbing in wildly shifting memories. Time was warbling wildly inside my head and I continued to lurch. \"Let go you creep!\" the struggling voice shouted at me.\n\n \"I'm sorry.\" a muttered again pitifully, but something about the voice seemed familiar. I looked up, and the face was familiar too. She stopped struggling.\n\n-- Had to split for size --", "“Okay team, we have the better half of a minute left and we only need three points to make it to the finals. If we can pull this off, it’ll be the best the Dials have ever done. So Pete I’m putting you in to finish them off.” My eyes shot up as my name was called, “Daniels you keep your eyes on number 24 over there, and Martinez if you don’t get your head out of your ass and keep the ball on the right side of the court I’ll bean you. Alright, break on three. 1-2-3.. “\n\nThe mightiest roar a group of thirteen year olds could muster ripped from the sidelines as we watched the opposing team make their way back to the court. Coach Troy isn’t always the most inspiring, but being this close to victory after the season we had, and against the best team in the conference? It was easy to feel good.\n\nThe ref blew his whistle and the other team had the ball. Number 5 was going down the middle with a purpose. He fakes out Martinez and attempts a three, the ball rebounds and number 24 is about to grab it when Daniels grabs it just in time. He’s going down the sideline and passes to my best friend Reggie. Reggie passes the ball between number 69’s legs and I receive it, going for the layup and - SMACK!\n\n\\\n\nI wake up in a groggy haze, my head is throbbing and my throat feels like I drank napalm. I reach over to turn my lamp on and realize it’s not there. My eyes scan the darkness but don’t make anything out. The clock reads 3:02am, the last thing I remember was playing basketball but why does that feel so long ago. I rub my face and notice it’s much coarser than yesterday, maybe I’m going through puberty. I get up to take a pee after finding the bathroom, then the bed welcomes back my inebriated state and I drift off while wondering why my bed is so much harder than I remember.\n\n\\\n\n“PETER!” \n\nMy head snaps up with a piece of paper stuck to my forehead. I’m at a desk in what appears to be a lackluster cubicle. Where the hell am-\n\n“I heard you snoring all the way from my office you lazy bum, we have corporate coming in today and I can’t have you slacking as usual.”\n\n“Who -”\n\n“Not now, get to work”\n\nThe mysterious man walks away. In his wake, the noise of phones ringing, paper shuffling, and a sneeze. I haven’t been this confused since my Algebra quiz last Tuesday, speaking of, what day is it? I glance at the calendar on the desk and there is a red X in each square up until the 17th, which is a Thursday. I guess that makes sense. I’m staring at the calendar trying to gather my bearings and notice something… it’s August? I swear I was just playing in the semi-finals and those are in February. I notice the year. 2026?!? \n\nMy heart is in my throat and I sprint towards the exit sign. I rush down some stairs, through a lobby, crash through a front door and find myself on a bustling street. Spots fill my eyes as I crash to the ground.\n\n\\\n\nSirens are wailing and lights are pouring in through my eyelids. \n\n“Hey sport, thank god you’re awake, can you hear me? How many fingers am I holding up?”\n\n“Jesus Christ Steve, leave the kid alone, he’s conscious, lets get him out of this ambulance.” \n\nTwo paramedics take the stretcher I’m laying on and wheel me into a hallway with sickly white lights. I hear my parents catching up behind me as I’m brought to a room. I am too stunned to say anything as the doctor performs a series of tests on me. \n\n“Can you speak boy?”\n\n“Y-ye-yeah? I think so?”\n\n“Alright, you seem to be cognitive. That is a relief, you took quite the spill when that kid tackled you, hit your head on the ground.”\n\nHe leaves the room and I notice I’m wearing my jersey. Was all of that a dream? I can hear the doctor talking to my parents outside the door. \n\n“The CT scan showed a bruise on a small section of the temporal lobe. He doesn’t seem to be showing any symptoms but I think we should keep him here overnight. No sign of a concussion but things like these can be unpredictable.”\n\nA bruise sounds pretty serious, maybe that’s why I had such a life-like dream. He says I’m okay though so I’ll try not to worry. \n\nMy parents come in and we talk until it’s time for bed. My dad sleeps in the chair while my mom goes home to take care of the pets. I close my eyes, thankful to know where I am.\n\n\\\n\nTwo shrieking voices wake me up as two small bodies launch onto me.\n\n“DAD DAD DAD! SANTA CAME!”\n\n\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\n\n&#x200B;\n\n&#x200B;\n\nThis was my first writing prompt, let me know what you think!!" ]	[ 1, 5, 12 ]	[ "1545350723", "1545366568", "1545360229" ]
My first posts here. Hello. How do i put tags?	[WP] You wake up and hear the dog yelling at the cat - “Martha! Have you fed the human yet?”	67	[ "Off-Topic Discussion: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfill every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "My 5am alarm broke through my slumber and I groggily tossed and turned in the bed, unwilling to take the first real steps of waking for the day. I knew I must though and eventually hauled myself up and pattered to the bathroom. My morning routine was the same every day: pee, then downstairs for breakfast and to feed the Martha my cat and Rose the dog. Then it would be back upstairs for teethbrushing and clothes before a nice long walk with Rose. \n\n\"Martha! Have you fed the human yet?\" \nI froze. The voice came from downstairs. Had someone broken in? I slowly tip-toed to the landing and peered over the banister and down the stairs. No one there. \n\"No, he's not up yet. I'll go and wake him.\" \nA second voice. I quickly looked around me for something to use as a weapon. The best I could do was a belt that was hanging over the bannister. I grasped it tightly in my right hand and steeled myself. Slowly, slowly, to avoid the creaky steps, I made my way down the stairs. \n\nI reached the bottom step and well, there was nothing. Not a person in sight. I could see the whole lower floor of my tiny house and it was just as I had left it. Dirty dishes on the side board, blanket thrown on the floor im the lounge area, and the pets pacing in the kitchen as they did every morning. \nI shook my head. I must be hearing things, losing my mind. I walked into the kitchen and took a cup from the cupboard. \n\"Ah, he's up.\" \nI span on the spot. Clutching the side board in fright. There wasn't a speaker. \n\"He's a bit skittish though, what's up with him today?\" \n\"Yeah. Where's my morning head pats?\"\n\"Oh, you and your head pats!\" \nConfused, I peered at the animals. Opening their little mouths and WORDS were coming out. Gone were the mewlings, the meows, and the big bellowing woofs. \nI stared for a second. Opening and closing my mouth like a goldfish. My throat was dry, words refused to form. This surely couldn't be real? \n\"Is he okay?\" Martha said, slinking up towards me. \nI took a step backwards to get away from the fluffy black cat. \n\"You....you can talk?\" I sputtered. Except, I didn't. From my mouth came the sound of a terrified ape. \n\n" ]	[ 1, 11 ]	[ "1545391035", "1545393468" ]
	[WP] The weathered, dying man places the worn six-gun in your tired hands, the metal glowing softly in the midnight air. "Its yours now," he says as he coughs up blood. "It'll take you far in this blasted wasteland. It was always yours to begin with."	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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "The pistol was of beautiful build. It was a relic of the before times, before the war, before the rebirth and before the fires. Humanity had wiped itself out with a virus lost to history, a terrible concoction of death dreamed up in a sick creature of a humans warped mind. \n\n nature had reasserted her dominance over the earth and it was a lush paradise, the survivors of the great purge had left their bunkers after a period of 25 years. The plants had grown over the old world and animals had taken to their traditional ways of life. \n\nHowever as humans always do they destroyed this new garden of eden, petty wars and wanton destruction led to the final death of this new paradise.\n\nThe pistol was a symbol of the old world, its laws, its fairness, its good. The pistol itself was a worn mix of brushed silver ironworks and walnut handle. Time had only made it more beautiful. \n\nAs the survivor mounted his horse leaving the old man to die he looked back along the dusty road he had traversed and towards the evergreen north that had shielded nature from man with her impassablity. The survivor plodded along on his faithful steed, towards the cold north. A place of safety but of incredible danger. \n\nHe adjusted his cap and holstered the pistol and readied himself for what lay ahead. ", "I remember this day like it was yesterday. A middle-aged man thrusting his revolver into my hands. Coughing up blood from the fresh gunshot to his belly. It felt so long ago on that full-mooned night some 20 years past. A bunch of raiders came to my farmstead too, killed my ma and pa. They were fixing to kill me too. \n\nBut this kid. I don’t know why but, I couldn’t let that bandit O’Malley kill him in cold blood. It ain’t right, and I guess I’m just returning the favour. Some stranger saved me when I was about this kid’s age. \n\nAt least he has a gun now. Something to protect himself with if they come back. Gonna miss that gun. Had some weird writing on it too. “iterum terminat futura praeteritis”... whatever that means. Some fella in town said it was Latin. At least it got me out of some jams, it’s gonna help this kid too. I feel it. \n\n“Stay safe kid,” I say through gritted teeth, “They’ll be comin back ‘for sunrise. You best take that six-shooter and be on your way.”\n\nThe kids hesitating. Must be the shock setting in. \n“What’s your name kid?” I ask, feeling the warm blood lol around my back. \n\n“It’s James sir,” he replies back.\n\n“Well, James, you get that horse and you ride to the nearest town. Don’t look back.”\n\nThat seemed to work. The kid finally gets his horse and leaves this hellhole, the hoof beats providing comfort in knowing he’s on his way.\n\n“That’s a good name kid,” I whisper to myself, feeling the strength leaving my body “They call me Jim too...”\n\nPS: Long-time lurker, First time poster. I don’t know how this works so hopefully I did it right :/ I love reading all the little stories on this sub so thought I’d take a crack :)", "I take the weapon and examine it under the soft moonlight glow. As I peer down the barrel a fresh breeze wipes the stale smells of my face. The night is cold and clear. If I set off now I can make good progress, but I can't... Not just yet.\n\n\"It's yours now,\" says the old timer. His voice is shallow now and I have to strain to listen,\"it'll take you far in this god-forsaken wasteland...\"\n\n\"But I can't... I thought this was an heirloom... How could I possibly take it? \"\n\nHe shows a toothless grin, \"it was always yours to begin with.\"\n\n\"W-What do yo—\"\n\n\"I should have told you sooner... I wanted to, believe me,\" he paused, taking a moment to catch his breath, \"it's not easy raising a kid in a world like this.\"\n\n\"Jesus...\"\n\nI stand back and light a cigarette. There's a certain beauty to be found on nights like this, where the moon hangs in the horizon and casts its iridescent glow across the land. For some reason I take solace in the fact that nature continues to march on with or without us. It's one of the few constants in this blasted world.\n\nI throw the cigarette over my shoulder and we both share a knowing look. He lies deathly still for moment, then finally turns to me once more, \"I've lost count of the number of people who want me dead... or worse. It was better off this way...\"\n\nI kneel down beside him and lift a flask to his lips. He takes a long gulp and collapses against the rock, beads of sweat rolling down his neck. Turning to me once again he blinks, as if forcing himself to stay awake. \n\n\"I—\" He opens his mouth to speak as if rolling the words around on his tongue. but we both know that there's no need for any more words. Instead he merely looks at me, a smile playing on his lips as he begins to drift away.\n\n**\n\nI strap the pistol to my holster and pull my scarf closer for warmth. The wind whispers through the branches and I take a moment to collect myself, a chill creeping into my jacket. There's no time to bury the old man, but I pray that wherever he is, he's at peace now. There's no reason to hang around any longer — there would be time to mourn later and after all, he would have wanted me to keep moving on. \n\nThe beginnings of dawn creep over the horizon and I begin to set off. That's right, I have to keep moving*." ]	[ 1, 1, 2, 4 ]	[ "1545466371", "1545509157", "1545490938", "1545490740" ]
[removed]	[WP] You belong to a rich, conservative, fanatically religious joint family but you are an atheist. Your family spends tons of money on rituals because they fear. You plan to teach them a lesson about how they are getting deceived in the name of God and fear.You cook up an evil incident in the house	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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "Hi, this submission has been removed.\n\n[Prompt users in the title, but don't play writing games or commission stories](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_6.3A_prompt_users_in_the_title.2C_but_don.27t_play_writing_games_or_commission_stories)\n\n- Prompts go in the title, do not extend into text. You can add commentary in the text, but don't add additional prompt restrictions. Also, avoid [too many details](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/prompts?src=RECIPE). \n\n\n\n---\n\n[Modmail](https://www.reddit.com/message/compose?to=%2Fr%2FWritingPrompts&subject=Removed Post) us if you have any questions or concerns. In the future, please refer to the [sidebar](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/about/sidebar) before posting. \n\nThis action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things." ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1545483471", "1545484951" ]
[removed]	[WP] You are cursed to be the greatest douchebag in the world for the next year no matter what you do, but you are cursed to be the greatest douchebag of the year NO MATTER WHAT YOU DO.	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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "Hi, this submission has been removed.\n\n[Prompts will be removed if there's a high possibility for rule breaking responses](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_7.3A_prompts_will_be_removed_if_there.27s_a_high_possibility_for_rule_breaking_responses)\n\n- No prompts prone to comment infractions. See [here](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_7.3A_prompts_will_be_removed_if_there.27s_a_high_possibility_for_rule_breaking_responses) for more info. \n\n\n\n---\n\n[Modmail](https://www.reddit.com/message/compose?to=%2Fr%2FWritingPrompts&subject=Removed Post) us if you have any questions or concerns. In the future, please refer to the [sidebar](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/about/sidebar) before posting. \n\nThis action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things." ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1545488951", "1545489776" ]
[removed]	[WP] Many years ago aliens have invaded Earth. After a massive battle both humans and aliens are nearly extinct. Aliens have developed a technology to alter the memories of the humans to make the humans believe that they have attacked a peaceful alien planet...	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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "Hi u/deadpool15967, this submission has been removed.\n\n[Prompt users in the title, but don't play writing games or commission stories](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_6.3A_prompt_users_in_the_title.2C_but_don.27t_play_writing_games_or_commission_stories)\n\n- Prompts go in the title, do not extend into text. You can add commentary in the text, but don't add additional prompt restrictions. Also, avoid [too many details](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/prompts?src=RECIPE). \n\n\n\n---\n\n[Modmail](https://www.reddit.com/message/compose?to=%2Fr%2FWritingPrompts&subject=Removed%20post&message=https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/a8nd9r/-/%0A%0A) us if you have any questions or concerns. In the future, please refer to the [sidebar](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/about/sidebar) before posting. \n\nThis action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things." ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1545504963", "1545504995" ]
	[WP] Everyone is born with an accompanying spirit. Each have unique powers that grow in strength. Some grow in the presence of plants, fire or water etc, but yours has always been weak (this earns you disdain from your peers). One day you're attending a funeral when you notice it has grown slightly.	102	[ "Off-Topic Discussion: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfill every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "Funerals.\n\n\nI hadn't been to one before. I stood in the back, watching people talk and try to help each other mourn. I didn't feel sad though. I don't even know why I'm here. I never knew my aunt. But my mother did. And my parents didn't realize that I wouldn't remember, too lost in their mourning. My accompanying spirit, a black serpent, sat wrapped around my neck, kind of like a scarf. She seemed to shift as I walked closer to my parents. \n\nCloser to the coffin. \n\nI felt a sort of dark energy crawling in my veins, and the weight on my chest increased. I blinked once, twice, before looking at the coffin. It was surrounded by some sort of black flowers, and in the casket, my aunt laid, looking asleep. All signs of death well hidden. \n\nI felt that energy again, but this time I nervously walked toward my mom. \"Can I go outside? I'm feeling a bit nauseous...\" \n\n\n\"Of course dear.\" She must have thought that the funeral was making me sick, or maybe that I was getting nervous due to being at a funeral for the first time. Not technically wrong. Her spirit however, a dark dog gave me and my spirit a suspicious look.\n\nI walked outside through the back door. \"What happened in there Chyr?\" \n\nThe serpent uncoiled from my neck and slithered onto my arm. \"That funeral casket, it was powering us!\"\n\n\"What?Are you saying...?\"\n\n\"Yes Reina. Death and it's symbols are where our power comes from.\"\n\n\"Oh my god. How am I supposed to process this information?! What do we even do with it? Powers like these could cause so many problems for us!\"\n\n\"I dunno what to do.\"\n\n\"Very helpful.\" I rolled my eyes.\n\n\"For the time being, can we go back in? I want to be a bit stronger...\" \n\n\"Just don't be a little shit.\"\n\n\"As long as you're not a bigger shit.\" \n\nI gave the ghost of a snicker, but it was gone as fast as it came. Though it was nice to have my one of my usual insult exchanges with Chyr.\n\nThe two of us went back in, and there was something unsaid between us. Whatever happened, we would face it together.\n\nI wonder where this kind of power will take us. \n\n---\n\nI kind of want to turn this into a real story, because it has a lot of potential, but then I'm reminded that I'm too lazy to even try,\n\n \n", "My friend had just died, his spirit was one of the strongest I’d known. Everyone thought he would be a great leader one day whether it be business or politics. But here he was in his grave his spirit diminishing. But I felt good, in fact I felt great! My friend was dead and I felt great, was I a terrible person? I realized my spirit had grown, the one piece of me that was never there can to me in a time of death and sorrow. I looked in and deep and I saw the mark that lie within. \nI was no longer someone who could be with others in their time of need, because I was their end. I was the cause of my friends death, at his bedside my spirit drained him. While now it drains the sorrow of everyone here. My name is no longer Fred, but it accompanies meaning and truth. My name is now and forever will be grim. I will be there in the end times, I see it now. As I am passed through age to age, as I have always been. No one will ever know, because ignorance is bliss and this world tries to live in bliss dodging truth after truth.\nI walk a lone road now, people still never see my aura as it truly is. They see it as it was before that fateful week, the funeral, the death. I drain them, their last clinging bits of life whether they could fight through it or not I am the vulture and they are my prey. This world is the desert in which I roam desolate, but filled with hope.\nForever shall I walk my lonely road, for I am the only one who can walk it.", "He was never close to his grandma and going to her funeral was more out of respect for his mom than any real grief. Greg never attended one of these services before, but he was familiar with the tradition. Once a person dies, their spirit wasn’t long for this world. It was the duty of the loved one’s left behind to dismiss the spirit. Free it’s essence from its human bonds so that it may find its own peace. And grandma’s wasn’t an exception to that rule. \n\n\nMom stood from her seat, taking a second to compose herself before approaching the altar. Her own spirit curled around her neck, it’s wind tugging gently at her curls in an act of reassurance. Both human and spirit were necessary. Greg watched their slow march up the stairs, lifting a hand to the tiny, green puff at his own shoulder. It didn’t stop his morbid thoughts of the future, when he would need to face his mom the same way she faced hers. His little speck of a spirit, he loved it so much, but would they be up to a task like this? Greg shook his head, clearing his mind and focusing on the ceremony. It wasn’t the time for self-pity.\n\n\nHer body was laid out on the altar, wearing her best Sunday outfit, hair painstakingly stylized around a painted face. She looked peaceful, with her wrinkles smoothed out and the slight upward turn of her lips. Almost as if she was asleep. With four legs folded beneath it, laying right over her once-beating heart, was her companion of almost nine decades. A simple water spirit, it’s body frozen solid in its time of mourning. Mom stood over the body, extending out a hand to allow her wind spirit to flutter down her finger tips. That was when Greg felt the subtle weight on his shoulder grow heavier.\n\n\nGreg blinked, turning to his little spirit as it leaned over from its perch. It’s white, beady eyes stared straight at the altar. Then he felt its rising excitement. The connection they shared reverberating with an unfamiliar power that soon became overpowering. It beckoned for Greg, urged him to rise from his seat. Gasps followed him as he did as asked, ignoring the rumbling of the crowded church as he joined his mom on the altar. Gently, Greg pushed his mom to the side, ignoring her surprised cries as he stared not at the corpse of his once grandma, but at the spirit that lay in mourning. It was the first time the water spirit moved, turning its faceless head towards Greg in a crackling of ice. He felt his spirit's request, the first the little thing ever made in their entire life together.\n\n\nTaking a step back, Greg lifted his hand, mirroring his mom’s earlier posed as the puff rolled off his shoulder and down his arm. It rested in the palm of his hand, feeling a hundred pounds too heavy compared to its normally feather-like existence. It’s’ excitement grew, reaching out with thousands of thread like limbs. It reached for the water spirit’s head, gluing to its frozen skin. Then it pulsated, the body shaking as it began to grow from Gregg’s palm. He wanted to drop it at first, the sensation too much. Like it was trying to consume his soul. But he remained frozen in place, forced to watch as the water spirit began to melt. Water droplets beaded on its skin, sliding not with gravity, but towards his now massive puffball.\n\n\nThe water slid up the threads, like beads on necklace, before disappearing in its body. An eternity passed, watching his grandma‘s spirit melt, mesmerized as the power he never thought he could experience grew. He didn’t even know why no one thought to intervene, though Greg was grateful. He didn’t want it to stop. This power, it was too much to deny. It filled a hole he had spent his entire life ignoring. All those years being mocked, but look at them now. He and his spirit, finally finding their true purpose.\n\n\nBy the time his spirit finished, there wasn’t even a drop of water left. The green spirit shivered before slumping over, landing with a loud thump on the ground. Then it rose up on unsteady legs, it’s form fluctuating between the puffball it was and the water spirit it consumed. Greg stepped up to it, resting a hand on a close approximation of its forehead and feeling the spirits excitement grow. It took in nine decades of experience and made it its own. Greg could feel it. The memories and the power it brought. Spirits prosper in the presence of their nature. Water for grandma or a windy day for mom. That day Greg discovered the truth of his spirit. It hummed against his hand, already asking him for another opportunity. For the next spirit on the cusp of death.\n\nThe consequences of what they had done loomed over them, their audience ready to pounce for his act of desecration. But Greg didn’t care. His spirit had found its purpose, and now that he had a taste, there was no stopping him.\n", "Funerals were a very strange procession. They were a look back on a human and their spirit. A time to really reflect on how we are all just as mortal as each other and no single one of us would outlast time. We were all waiting to go. To some, this made people somber. Others hopeful. And one, larger. \n\n\"Ritus, what happened?\" I whispered to him as he continued to slowly increase in size. \n\n\"I... I'm not--,\" he took a moment to take in a full breath, like he'd never breathed before in his life. His figure had lost its pale look and almost began glowing. I stepped out of the room before the people behind me got upset that he was blocking their view. \n\n\"No!!\" he yelled, tugging at my essence to return inside the room.\n\n\"What is it Ritus? Why are you growing? Is it death?\" I asked, a little worried. \n\n\"No, it's mourning. Not just normal sadness or depression, but the mourning of what's lost and could never return. Please master, you must return me inside, I've never felt so good before in my existence,\" he said, tugging harder at me.\n\n\"Hold on, I just want to understand what's ha--\"\n\n\"What's there to understand?\" he yelled, his eyes bulging out of his nebulous figure. \"I need to be in that room.. I need to feel that power! It's draining from me every second we waste out here! Haven't you always wanted a strong spirit?\" He was panicking, and I could feel that he was telling the truth. This surge in mood and power wouldn't last long. \n\n\"Ritus, calm down. It sounds like you're already addicted to your growth energy, and it's not like we can come about it at a moment's notice!\" I hissed, trying to keep our commotion quiet.\n\nHe growled and went from tugging to dragging me back inside the room at full force. I yelped, as Ritus had never contained enough energy to move laundry in my room, but he was carrying me with no problem. He plopped me back in my chair to a few stern glances from the upset audience. Ritus began flexing and humming as his strength began waxing again. \n\n\"Young man, can you please calm your spirit down?\" the man at the podium asked nicely. I was so embarrassed, but Ritus didn't even seem to have noticed. He was three times his size now and growing. Flames began appearing at the tips of his fingers. He grinned a mischievous grin. \n\n\"Young man!\" the man at the podium repeated, a little more worried as Ritus began filling the room. I realized that this display might be causing those in pain to have more feeling of mourning. \n\n\"Not to worry, we were just leaving. Sorry for causing a commotion,\" I said pathetically, standing up to leave. Ritus refused to let me go. \n\n\"So this is the power you've been holding out on me, my master?\" he asked coyly, looking at the full flames in his hands.\n\n\"Ritus, we've done enough, let's go!\" I announced, attempting to take another step. He wouldn't allow it. \n\n\"Young man, get your spirit under control, this is--\" the old man's spirit darted in front of him, and he gasped as he was shielded from a flame from Ritus. \n\n\"What is wrong with you?\" the old man's older spirit cried incredulously.\n\n\"I don't like the old man speaking over me,\" Ritus claimed, looking at the other people and spirits in the room, tempting them to challenge him.\n\n\"Ritus, we're leaving,\" I said again. I still couldn't move. I thought quickly. I had an idea, but it probably wouldn't end well either way.\n\n\"Ritus, you're planning on hurting these people with your newfound power!?\" I exclaimed in mock fear. It wasn't hard to pretend as I was a little scared of this new version of my spirit. \n\nThe room's mood turned from a sour form of sadness to immediate panic and fear. Ritus shrunk down a noticeable degree.\n\n\"What? No, I--\"\n\n\"You told me you were going to hurt these people outside! You said that only their spirits could stop you!\" I yelled more emphatically. \n\nHe shrunk to about half his size.\n\n\"No!\" he panicked. \"Please, master, I know what you're trying to do and I'm sorry! Please just stop while I still have this much--\"\n\n\"Enough power to hurt these people? Is that what you want to be left with?\" I cried. Tears stung at my eyes. I didn't realize it, but this was the first time I had to chastise my spirit. I didn't realize it would be this difficult. A few people in the audience screamed, spirits included. People started running from the room. In the pandemonium, he had become magnitudes smaller, back to his normal self. No one was sad anymore, sole for one thing: Ritus. \n\nHe looked at me with big eyes. They hurt to look at. It was a pain that wouldn't help his power, for it was not the pain of sadness nor mourning the loss of his power, it was a feeling of betrayal from his master, whom he served loyally for years. And in his first chance to be able to do more for his master, he was brought back down to his lowly, pathetic form. But he also felt my betrayal. The loss of trust in my spirit, who went mad with power the moment he was able to gain some.\n\n\"How could you do this to me?\" we asked each other.\n\n________________________________________\n\nFor more stories, come check out /r/Nazer_The_Lazer!" ]	[ 1, 4, 8, 10, 60 ]	[ "1545543457", "1545574883", "1545544724", "1545568787", "1545550460" ]
[removed]	[WP] This is based on a true story which is happening right now. You and your SO own a drone. You see the news, drones are flying around an airport but you are 50 miles away. You and your SO get arrested because you own one. Your faces get plastered all over the media. You then get released.	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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "Hi, this submission has been removed.\n\n[Prompts will be removed if there's a high possibility for rule breaking responses](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_7.3A_prompts_will_be_removed_if_there.27s_a_high_possibility_for_rule_breaking_responses)\n\n- Real-World Drama: No prompts referencing real world drama (including politics, recent tragedies, etc.) \n\n\n\n---\n\n[Modmail](https://www.reddit.com/message/compose?to=%2Fr%2FWritingPrompts&subject=Removed Post) us if you have any questions or concerns. In the future, please refer to the [sidebar](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/about/sidebar) before posting. \n\nThis action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things." ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1545569698", "1545571534" ]
	[WP] Years have passed since you were killed on death row, and currently you're settled in heaven. Soon, a familiar face walk towards the gates. Its your executioner.	37	[ "Off-Topic Discussion: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfill every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n-----\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) \n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) \n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) \n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "I was sat on a bench when I heard footsteps behind me. I turned to look.\n\nI couldn't deny that a part of my chest heaved with great pain when I set eyes upon my killer. He was wearing a black shirt, a black tie, black trousers, staring at me with a eerie astonishment that sunk through my skin. \n\n\"You're in Heaven?\" He sneered at me with those same unreadable eyes. I could never understand him. The thoughts he had inside his skull. \n\n\"I never once lied about my innocence,\" I said, though my cheeks were burning, an emotion I couldn't quite grasp. \n\nThis man murdered me. And yet here he stood with me in Heaven.\n\n\"Yes, it seems I simply fulfilled my duty as was my service. To follow orders, to never question innocence or guilt,\" he smiled and took a seat beside me.\n\nThe garden was my favourite place to sit. The wilderness hiding in the shrubbery and the treetops would swoop through and I'd see glances of animals who had been made extinct by my own human race. Majestic beings. I had always wanted to see the world before destruction. And here I could. Plants and colours and creatures my wildest dreams could never imitate.\n\nAnd now I sat with him.\n\n\"You know, I don't remember your name,\" he said. \n\nI had hoped ignoring him would make him go away. I stood up and cleared my throat, back turned to him.\n\n\"It's not Roger, is it?\" He asked.\n\nI tried to walk away but he touched my shoulder, a firm grip. \n\n\"Look, I'm sorry that I killed you,\" he said. \n\nWords I never thought I would ever need to hear. Did I want to know the man who sent me here was sorry? The man who uprooted me from my family? I couldn't blame him, I knew I couldn't. But the pain was too much. It was too much to be away from them, waiting. Unable to see any of them grow. And he took that from me. I thought I would never see any of them again. \n\n\"Leave me be,\" I spluttered the words out.\n\n\"I don't have much time here,\" he said, \"But I asked for the chance to find you.\"\n\nI couldn't make any sense of him. What did he want from me? I was already dead. \n\n\"I won't ask again,\" I took a step. \n\n\"The truth is, I... committed suicide.\"\n\nMy throat was tight. I didn't want to care. Why would I want to know? Why did he want to find me to tell me this?\n\n\"I'm going to Hell,\" he continued to speak. I couldn't face him.\n\n\"They found out you were innocent years after. Years. And I never stopped hearing your wife's shriek when your death was announced.\"\n\nMaybe that was the strange noise I heard before I found myself staring at a replicate of my childhood home as myself. And I always knew justice would eventually come to light. \n\n\"I used to enjoy it. Hearing your wife scream,\" he said. \n\nI couldn't make any sense of anything. \n\n\"But then, then I started hearing it all the time. Every time I heard silence, that scream would seep through. And then I would see your dead body floating above my head at night. And the news came out. And I... I couldn't take it. And as much as I enjoyed it at first, I... I couldn't take it,\" he repeated himself. \"So I took my life.\"\n\nI turned to face the smiling man with tears running down his face. \n\n\"And I'm sorry. And I will suffer,\" he said. \"So you can be rest assured that I will suffer forever for what I did to you, the life I chose.\"\n\nMy heart ached. I couldn't face a crying man without losing a few precious tears of my own. Sure. It was done. I was dead. My family far from my grasp. But I would see them again. I would see them and I would hold them in my arms.\n\nI didn't know his story, his life. Not a thing. All I know was that he killed me. And yet here he was, crying before me.\n\n\"I don't ask for forgiveness or acceptance or anything. I just wanted... wanted you to know that I am sorry that I took your life. And I hope that you wait many more years before you see your family so that they live for long, a long life. They work hard to find justice for people like you.\"\n\nHe began to fade away. I tried to reach out to him and say the words closed up inside of me. \n\nBut he was gone by the time I found the strength to say the words. \n\nAnd so, I was alone again.\n\nr/astoriawriter", "I sat on the curb and watched placidly as Peter greeted the man had pushed the lethal concoction through my veins. He was older now, naturally; the last I had seen him, his hair hadn't been so grey and his face hadn't all those lines. Of course, he would be able to change that anytime he wished; typically everybody in Heaven chose their mid-twenties to early-thirties face, unsurprisingly. I didn't have to change mine, though.\n\n\"Hello, Mr. MacDonald,\" I said cheerfully as he stepped inside the Gates, looking around in wonder. \"Or may I call you John?\"\n\n\"What? Oh, John is fine,\" he said in dazed voice, shaking his head. \"Sorry, still feeling overwhelmed right now. Anyway, have we met before? You seem familiar...\"\n\n\"My name is Crowl. Atticus Crowl.\"\n\nFor several seconds, he just stared at me. I could almost see his neurons firing across dusty, long-forgotten synapses as old memories began to resurface. \"You...you were at the State Penitentiary...\"\n\n\"On death row, yes.\" I scratched my arm, right where the the needle had been inserted. I had chosen to keep the scar visible.\n\nHis eyes flickered down, widened, and then jumped back up to my face. \"I...injected you.\"\n\nI nodded. \"Judging from how you look now, many years must have passed since then, huh? I'm surprised you still remember me.\"\n\nHe fumbled his shirt and looked down. Was he nervous? Embarrassed? \"How could I forget you? After what I did?\"\n\n\"Well, it was your job. I'm sure there were many others after me that--\"\n\nHe shook his head violently. \"I quit after your...death. I couldn't handle it anymore.\" John looked at me again with eyes suddenly brimming with tears. \"The real truth came out a few years later. You were - are \\- innocent.\"\n\n\"Yes, I knew that,\" I said simply. \"But you didn't.\"\n\n\"Even still...\" he wrung his hands helplessly. \"I can't...I shouldn't have...\"\n\nI reached forward and pulled him into an embrace. He began to sob.\n\n\"Forgive yourself,\" I urged quietly. \"I feel no hatred toward you. And neither should you - after all, you're here, aren't you?\"\n\nMany more seconds before he stepped back. His eyes were red, but he had put on a weak smile.\n\n\"That's better,\" I said, grinning in return. \"Now, let me show you around. We may have gotten off to a rough start,in a manner of speaking, but we have all eternity to become friends.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n&#x200B;\n\n&#x200B;\n\nLiked that story? Want more like it? Check out r/Idreamofdragons!" ]	[ 1, 16, 55 ]	[ "1545579024", "1545582234", "1545583742" ]
	[WP] Death is sick of r/WP users exploiting him for their stories and he wants to purge them. Authors desperately write their way out of this.	63	[ "Off-Topic Discussion: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfill every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "“I’ve called this meeting today for a very important purpose.” \n\nThe cloaked figure spoke with a whispery tone that was both dry and raspy, yet his words carried clearly across the table. The very sound of his voice would have chilled a mortal listener to their core, like the wind of an arctic desert. But his colleagues, who were far from human, were unperturbed. \n\n“You can say that again,” said a handsome and suave-looking fellow in a black suit. “This has all gotten quite out of hand.” \n\n<It’s tiresome.> One creature, a faceless eldritch blob composed of slime, chitin, and tentacles, seemed to speak directly with its thoughts. <Its exploitative. And its unoriginal.> \n\n“We must remember,” said a serene sounding woman whose beauty seemed to literally radiate light throughout the room. “Not to judge them too harshly. Their creativity is limited by what their little minds can produce. We have to show them the error of their ways in a way that does not crush their spirits.”\n\n“Nah,” said the suited man as he casually lit a cigarette...with his finger. “They know what they’re doing. They need some good old-fashioned corrective instruction.” \n\nThe woman eyed the man critically. “And who are you again?”\n\nHe lifted his hands as if he was insulted. “You forgot about me already? I’m the head honcho down below. King of the underworld. The prince of darkness himself? Surely, you’ve heard of me.”\n\nShe cocked an eyebrow. “Then who is that?” She gestured at a large and imposing figure whose red skin was producing smoke like a charcoal grill. \n\nLucifer waved him off dismissively. “That’s just your run-of-the mill generic demon. Poor guy gets used more than a hooker in Thailand.” \n\nThe red beast nodded its head in affirmation. The woman wrinkled her nose. “Language please. And if you would all kindly let Death take the floor.”\n\n“Thank you,” the reaper croaked. “I have made many attempts to negotiate with these...redditors, I believe they are called… but to no avail. They simply will not let us be. I’m afraid we must now take desperate measures.” \n\n<Yes> The blob quivered. <I propose mass extermination of the human race. I assure you the rest of the intergalactic community will not mourn them.>\n\n“Oh hell yeah.” Lucifer applauded. “I like that plan.” \n\nThe woman scowled at him. “We won’t be exterminating anyone.” \n\n“Oh come on, angel” he pleaded. “It’ll save both me and the big guy a whole lot of trouble. I mean he’s done it before, right? And where is he anyway?” \n\nShe pursed her lips. “Occupied.” \n\n“Not too occupied to send you to ensure these peons stop denigrating him with their cheesy ideas, huh?” He chuckled. “Well we’re in agreement. I say bring on the purge.” \n\nDeath raised a hand. “We may not need purge them all…” \n\n“Aww,” the devil pouted. \n\n“I have spoken with my friend, the keeper of Time itself,” Death continued. “He has also grown weary of their manipulations and has agreed to aid us in our efforts. With his help, we may be able to address this problem once in for all.”\n\nThe table listened with curiosity. \n\n“First, I must pay a visit to a Mr. Kinder…” \n", "I was the first to read about it... Well, hear about it. It was almost impossible to believe, Death himself had made a Reddit account. After checking the facts myself I found the account I assumed to be a legend. At first it just seemed like an average Reddit account. A post history filled with subpar debates against Atheist, bizarre r/askreddit answers, and the other usual suspects. Apparently the account had been around for a good bit, but the new message, that's what has people talking. The most recent comment was a thread on r/offmychest titled \"Feeling Used and Abused\". My heart sobbed a bit, this self proclaimed \"Death\" dude was just feeling hurt. I've been there man. \n\nMy opinions quickly changed after clicking on the thread. Everything seemed normal for a few seconds, and by that I mean for a few seconds my browser froze. After those few seconds shit hit the fan real quick. The page had loaded, and all of the letters with drifting off the screen into the air. Based on the amount of letters soaring off the screen I'd guess the poster had written a short novel. The letters started to form into a humanoid shape... Well... A skeletal shape? Skelatnel? I don't even know. I'll stick with skeletal. The skeletal shape covered in long black cloak and staring down at me. If I had to guess, using a formula to convert text to living creatures, I'd guess the post contained three sequels to Stephen King's \"IT\". The only thing I could manage to get out of my mouth at the time was a surprisingly calm \"Oh\". The skeleton cracked his jaw and made a whining sound. \"For years I've found community amongst your people, and you guys still continue to abuse me. All I wanted to do was enjoy the weeb groups with fandoms dedicated to my animated disciples, and prove the existence of Heaven and Hell through intelligent debate, but what do I get instead you ask? Slavery! I already have to work for both God and the Devil, and now you yolks are forcing me into unnecessary cameos for your stories. Or even worse, you have to kill off so many characters that my hourly pay just simply isn't worth the overworking. Where do you think imaginary characters go when they die?\" He paused and sighed.\"It's just rude, and even though I have not warned you before, frankly I can not hold out long enough for you to change. Tomorrow... Tomorrow I end this. Tomorrow I'm killing every Reddit employee. As far as I'm aware, this should probably kill the website. I'm also a couple billion years old, and it seems we've all learned the problems with elders and technology at some point. Regardless, this is all I have to say. Forgive me, those of you who did not take part in these years of absolute torture.\" He wiped a non existent tear from his eye and waved goodbye.\n\nHe stood still for a few seconds and just simply faded away. I looked at my screen to see a completelt blank post. Seems I still couldn't manage to say anything more than \"Oh.\" For a few moments I sat in shock until I realized what I had to do. Hands on keyboard I began to type \"[WP] In the threat of Death himself deciding to end humanity in an attempt to get an extra long vacation, the r/writingprompts team together in attempt to write stories to kill Death\"." ]	[ 1, 2, 16 ]	[ "1545581774", "1545588179", "1545583544" ]
[removed]	[WP] What happens next?	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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "Hi, this submission has been removed.\n\n[Prompt users in the title, but don't play writing games or commission stories](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_6.3A_prompt_users_in_the_title.2C_but_don.27t_play_writing_games_or_commission_stories)\n\n- Prompts go in the title, do not extend into text. You can add commentary in the text, but don't add additional prompt restrictions. Also, avoid [too many details](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/prompts?src=RECIPE). \n\n\n\n---\n\n[Modmail](https://www.reddit.com/message/compose?to=%2Fr%2FWritingPrompts&subject=Removed Post) us if you have any questions or concerns. In the future, please refer to the [sidebar](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/about/sidebar) before posting. \n\nThis action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things." ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1545604741", "1545605510" ]
[deleted]	[WP] Everyone has a superpower, and almost all make it public. People - friends, family, media - keep asking you what yours is, but you can't tell them. You can't ever tell them.	23	[ "Off-Topic Discussion: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfill every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "“Minor invisibility, just for seconds. I’m not that powerful.”\n“Oh don’t say that, I’m sure you just haven’t manifested fully. I’m sure you’ll be powerful, after all both of your parents are” \n\nIf only they knew.\nI wish they could know\n\nMinor invisibility was the lie I decided on early November. If I was going to have a constNt stream if family members I don’t want the entire time to be about my powers. It was something that certainly qualified as a power and I could pull it off consistently, but if only they knew. It was only the tip of the iceberg.\n\nMom knew. She learned and helped me ,control it before I caused something terrible. We figured out together through a series of mistakes and accidents that I had manifested a power.\n\nThe power to warp reality. Well not quite...but it was close enough in most cases. I could manipulate any sense of any human. Sight,smell, taste, balance...pain. Anything you could sense, I could manipulate and control. It doesn’t seem like much until you realize that what is real to you is what you can sense. So being able to change how anyone views reality....well that is something powerful. I could change anyone’s reality.\n\nAnd what surprised mom and I was how easy it all came. Usually with people it took years of training to make their powers become precise and easy to control, as these things can be volitile. That’s why even though most people can do some amazing thing, only a few join the various hero organizations, and only a few join the underground villain organizations. But for me it was just so easy once I realized what I was doing. I practiced on mom in specific sessions where she wanted to figure out what I could do and sometimes on others, subtly. A shadow here, and a creeping sensation on the skin, the briefest scent of turkey. Small sensory manipulations on strangers, and then with mom I tested my limits. I don’t know my limits. I’ve learned to completely take over any singular sense, and to work on multiple people at once. But I don’t think that’s the limit. Mom says there’s a point where you just know that you’ve reached as far as you can with just natural ability. I haven’t reached there yet. How far can I go? How much can I warp at once?I don’t have an answer yet.\n\nSo no one can know. This sort of thing, especially with how easy it feels, it causes fear. People can counter fire and ice and energy rays, but they get scared when they start to doubt if what’s around them is real or not. And scared folk lash out. So minor invisibility. That’s my power to them. It’s a simple trick. Manipulate sense of sight for a couple moments, boom done. Easy. But I can do so much more. I have done so much more in practice and in moments where I could. But they can’t know. They won’t know. They cant know what I can do to their reality." ]	[ 1, 12 ]	[ "1545633254", "1545640321" ]
	[WP] As you walk to your favorite hot dog stand, a woman grabs you. "To break out of the simulation, a sacrifice must be made", she says just before disappearing into the crowd. You can't stop thinking about it, as you convince yourself...what if she's right?	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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", " Owen sat down on a park bench to enjoy his lunch. He watched strangers walking by while the woman's rant replayed in his mind. \n\n \n\"To break out of the simulation, a sacrifice must be made,\" she said to him, only him. The frantic woman grabbed him by the lapels and stared into his eyes when she spoke, then vanished into the crowd. Owen spent his lunch hour analyzing every detail of as many strangers as he could. He searched for any hints that the woman might be right, but found none. He decided the woman was probably crazy and went back to work. Throughout the rest of the day, and even once he got home, the thought gnawed at the back of his mind. It only stopped when he managed to fall asleep. \n\n \nHe forgot about it by the morning and went about his normal routine. For his lunch hour, he headed for another hot dog. As he approached the vendor the same dark-haired woman stepped out of the crowd, grabbed his lapels and stared into his eyes. \n\n \n\"To break out of the simulation, a sacrifice must be made,\" she repeated, then released him. Owen tried to keep his eye on her, but she vanished into the crowd again. No one else seemed to have heard the woman's strange advice. Owen looked at his phone to check the date. It was definitely the next day. \n\n \n\"Twice just for me, huh?\" Owen chuckled to himself. \"Well, this is interesting,\" Owen shrugged and continued his trek for a hotdog. He sat on the same bench and watched the flow of strangers again. This time he noticed it immediately. Though he regularly sat in the park for lunch, he rarely paid attention to what was going on around him. Today he realized all the strangers were the same as the day before. He noticed the same child with the same yellow balloon lose his grip on it again. He noticed the same woman slapping the same creep that grabbed her again like the day before. \"Neat.\" He smiled. \n\n \nAfter lunch, he began paying attention at work. Owen worked as a bank teller but hardly ever saw the same person. His transactions for his first hour back at work were all from strangers he'd never seen before. He began to doubt the simulation idea until he noticed an elderly woman being helped by one of his coworkers. Owen did not know the old woman's name, but he knew she visited the bank frequently. Thinking back on it, Owen realized he had seen her every day. He looked around the rest of the bank and recognized several faces that he never paid attention to. \n\n \n\"Just me?\" he wondered. All of his clients were new faces, but it seemed his coworkers all helped the same people. He glanced at Susan, the teller helping the old woman. She was wearing her favorite yellow dress. The same one she wore every other Thursday. The dress looked so beautiful on her that Owen noted the first time she wore it and kept an eye out for it again. After a couple of months of paying attention to her wardrobe, he was able to know what day it was by her outfit. He did not think much of it until he looked at it with the simulation idea in mind. \n\n \n\"AHEM,\" a stern voice said in front of him. \"Can you help me?\" Owen realized he spaced out and faced his new customer, a balding, middle-aged man that Owen had never seen before.\n\n \n\"Sorry, Sir.\" Owen apologized and dismissed the simulation idea for the moment to slip back into work mode. That night he fell asleep wondering about the limits of the simulation. In the morning he called in sick to work, then he dressed and drove to the bank. Instead of going in he stayed in his car and watched the doors. No one approached the bank all morning. \n\n \n\"So it's for me... but it's not aware of me?\" Owen wondered. He knew if he were working there would be people in the bank. But he also assumed if the simulation kept track of him, it would know he was staring at the bank. At noon he felt a familiar hunger pang. He stepped out of his car to walk to the nearby hot dog stand but decided to try something different instead. He got back into his car and drove to a pizzeria on the other side of town. After parking, he stepped out of his car. The second he closed the door the same woman from the previous two days rushed up to him and grabbed his shirt. \n\n \n\"To break out of the simulation,-\" Owen grabbed her hands off his shirt. \n\n \n\"Not interested, lady,\" he said and shoved her hands aside. He kept walking toward the restaurant, but she ran in front of him again. \n\n \n\"You know?\" She asked. Owen silently walked around her. She reached out and grabbed his shoulder. \"There's a way out!\" she said. Owen shrugged. He reached the entrance to the restaurant and walked in. He was surprised when he heard the woman enter the building behind him. He sat down at a booth and the stranger sat in front of him.\n\n \n\"I can help you escape,\" she said. Owen stared at her.\n\n \n\"And then what?\" he asked\n\n \n\"What?\" she gave him a confused look. \"What do you mean, 'and then what?' You'll be OUT.\" Owen nodded.\n\n \n\"Uhuh. And then what? I have to find another job? Are there even jobs out there? I'm already comfortable here.\"\n\n \n\"But it's not real,\" she stressed. Owen shrugged again but added a smirk. \n\n \n\"What's 'real' anyway? Everything is electrical signals interpreted by the brain. Who's to say you're not still in a simulation out there?\" he asked. \"Besides...,\" his smirk grew into a broad smile. \"...now that I know what I know, I get to find out how everything works. I can set myself up pretty nicely here.\"\n\n \n\n\\\\\\\n\n Thank you for reading! I’m responding to prompts every day in 2018, this is #357. You can find them collected on my [blog](https://hugoverse.info/). If you're curious about my universe (the Hugoverse) you can visit the [Guidebook](https://hugoverse.info/2017/11/25/hugoverse-guidebook/) to see what's what and who's who, or the [Timeline](https://hugoverse.info/2017/10/23/hugoverse-timeline/) to find the stories in order. ", ">\"To break out of the simulation, a sacrifice must be made!\"\n\n\"A what?\" Maribel yelled out.\n\nIt was too late, the women had left. \n\nMaribel found this to be amusing, because she knew exactly what the women was talking about. A couple of weeks before, Maribel had the weirdest dream. More like herself, who kept letting her know that her 'reality' was a simulation. Maribel had laughed it off, this couldn't be true. Although, little by little, Maribel started believing. \n\nAs Maribel keeps going through the day, a question keeps appearing in her head. \"Simulation? I'm in a simulation? A sacrifice must be made. A sacrifice? Are you sure?\" \n\nMaribel stared at herself, in the mirror, for a long time. She grabbed a knife, and she smiled. \"What if I am the sacrifice?\" \nMaribel knew her bodies pressure points fairly fast, and knew that the best way to kill someone without being able to save them was through their neck. She sharpened her knife, and stared at herself in the mirror. She didn't have any family, and this life was a stimulation, so no one will ever know right? She decided to have an aide to help her, so she took some mushroom tea. They were the only thing that would help her have a peaceful death. As the mushrooms started to kick in, she finally grabbed the knife. She spoke to mushrooms, and she told them, \"Don't miss me too much. I enjoyed growing you, and you helped me grow in a sense.\" She started to tear up. The mushrooms laughed, and they all said in her head, \"Maribel, don't worry we'll see you soon!\"* As she started looking for her vein in the neck, she tightened the grip on the knife. She then stabbed at the thickest vein she could feel for, and she laid down in peace. Watching her life before her, and thinking to herself. \"This is it. I am ready. I hope the simulation is broken, and everyone can finally be free.\" \n\n\nMaribel was left in her own silence of the world, although, moments later. She woke up. Maribel felt slightly hazed, and questioned. She went to go look in the mirror, and just then someone appeared behind her. It was her! \n\"Maribel?\" Maribel asked. \"you're real. I thought you-\"\n\nHer replica put a finger between her lips to shush her. \"My name is not Maribel, I am Anne. Why did you do it?? You have doomed us all! You being in the simulation, was the only thing keeping us alive! Now you have doomed us.\" \n\n\nMaribel confused, \"But I thought?\" \nAnne rolled her eyes, \"but you thought I was telling you to get out? I came to you in your dreams so you could stay in simulation! Don't you remember?? I told you, that your reality is lie, but you must stay alive for the revolution! They must've erased that part. It doesn't matter now, we must keep going! Let's go.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nMaribel had a new mission to kill and stay alive...\n\n&#x200B;\n\n&#x200B;\n\nStay tuned for Part II. The Revolution of Maribel! \n\n \n", "\"Or...\" Emma says. \"That lady you met, right? Are you listening? Are you following me?\"\n\nI nod.\n\n\"She could be...\" Two pointer fingers circle around her temple. \n\n\"I know, I know. But what if she's ri-\"\n\n\"HEY!\" Emma snaps. Strong eye contact mode activates. The previously paused pointer fingers resume their circular spin, but more furiously this time. \n\n\"Fine,\" I give up, leaning back and closing my eyes.\n\nShe begins to giggle.\n\n\"What's so funny?\"\n\n\"Imagine if we were characters in a Reddit writing prompt right now. This was would be the part where the twist comes in, you know...I sacrifice you.\" \n\n\"Heh, yeah.\" I chuckle. \"That is pretty funny.\"\n\n\"I know. \" She grins. \"They must be so mad right now.\"\n\n" ]	[ 1, 1, 2, 3 ]	[ "1545672126", "1545688645", "1545674663", "1545674066" ]
	[WP] Everybody in society is born with Control of an element of the periodic table. Those who control oxygen and hydrogen have teamed up and now run the world, that is until you, their worst fear, someone with complete control over uranium-235.	98	[ "Off-Topic Discussion: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfill every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "I stared lazily, watching as the reporter on my TV screen clicked down on a small button, bringing up a map of some desert country I didn't really care about.\n\n\"In other news today the entire country of Afghanistan has been rendered inert and lifeless today thanks to the actions of the United States Elemental Army,\" she said, \"the stocks in oxygen and hydrogen haven't moved too far from the norm.\"\n\nI shut off the TV, enough was enough. I had learned a while back, in a small incident that I had powers far beyond what those losers at the top of the table had. Who needs hydrogen or oxygen when you can have the power of the most destructive atom at your finger tips. Exactly, nobody needs that. But what I need doesn't matter anymore. Sure, the president and vice president of this lovely country could just destabilize every molecule of water within the borders, but in my minds eye that's just child's play. They can freeze us all, rule us under a fist of steel but that won't matter in a second. See, right now there are about 1.8 thousand nuclear warheads tucked away in various parts of the United States, that's my max range. Today's my birthday, and I think it's time for some fireworks." ]	[ 1, 55 ]	[ "1545721344", "1545732273" ]
	[WP] You know the brand of each marshmellow you see, and how good they taste, according to you. Your mom/dad was about to put some marshmellows in your hot chocolate when you realise the marshmellow doesn't have a brand, or a value of taste.	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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "A lot of people had hidden talents. But mine was more of a superpower. I hadn't told anyone about it because not only was it too hard to believe, but it was quite useless - that is, until this morning.\n\nMy father is known to enjoy a hot chocolate every now and then, and this morning was no exception. He isn't home for much of the year being the Prime Minister and all, but every Christmas morning he always makes sure to have a complete breakfast feast with his normal family in a normal house. As I sat at the kitchen counter watching him prepare his hot chocolate, I noticed that something was very wrong. \n\nOften as a child, my father and I would go camping, and enjoy smores. But not just any smores. Each time, they were made with marshmallows from a different brand. I could never get enough of them. After eating my approximately 5000th smore, I would know the precise taste and brand of the marshmallows used in making them just by look. Eventually there was not a single instance where I was wrong. If I saw a marshmallow brand I didn't know, I would see it as a combination of various brands that I had already tried.\n\nNow back to the hot chocolate in my father's hand. I had noticed that 1 of 3 marshmallows was nothing like anything I had ever seen before. The taste and brand simply wasn't registering in my head, though it looked just like the other two marshmallows. But what could be causing this? Before my father could even take a sip, my curiosity got the better of me. I had gotten up, and plucked the marshmallow from his beverage in order to examine it more carefully.\n\"What's the matter my boy?\" he said with a puzzled expression. \"This marshmallow is nothing like anything I've ever seen before. Is it even real??!?\" I pondered.\n\nMy father had suddenly become extremely alert. After pouring the hot chocolate into the sink along with the marshmallow that was in my hand, he pulled out his executive phone that he kept in his pocket at all times to make a call:\n\n\"Send in the bomb squad immediately, my location has been compromised\"\n\nIt turned out that someone had caught on to my father's habit of celebrating Christmas normally with his family, and his love for hot chocolate. They had placed the bag of highly poisonous marshmallows in the cupboard a whole month ago. My otherwise useless ability had actually managed to save the most important man in the country! \n\nFrom then on I referred to it as a superpower.\n" ]	[ 1, 3 ]	[ "1545731285", "1545735405" ]
	[WP] You have the power to heal any disease but if anyone knows about your power then all those you healed die.	122	[ "Off-Topic Discussion: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfill every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "It's my third glass of whiskey before I realize I should probably stop. And a further three before I actually do, more out of necessity than anything else. One can't drink when one's bottle has been emptied. Staring at it, crystalline and still just wet enough inside to glisten off the dim lamplight, I curse it. I should be cursing myself, of course. It's been four years since I last had a drink.\n\nOf course, I haven't had much cause to have one, which I'm grateful for. But even when I did, I'd managed to avoid it. My house was devoid of alcohol these days. And, most times, the venues of my sudden drinking urges didn't readily present alcohol to consume. I knew making house calls would get me in trouble one day.\n\nIt had just been sitting there, behind a thin glass window in a cabinet that, thankfully, had nothing but it and a few glasses. Once, I supposed, it had probably had more of its brethren to keep it company. Perhaps the owner of this house had grown tired of the stuff like I had. Or perhaps he was just in between restocks. Whatever it was, at least he only had the one bottle. Any more, and my backward slide might put me well into something I couldn't get back out of.\n\nI didn't rightly know what to do now, addled as I was - another reason I'd stopped drinking. I needed to leave, I knew. No way to ignore that reality, even in the state I was in. But, that would involve getting up. That would involve seeing him. I didn't want to see him. I never wanted to see them.\n\nI reached for the lamp - to turn it off, I think, but I'm not entirely sure to be honest - and watch my hand shake uncontrollably in the air. Was that the alcohol? The flood of a suddenly sated addiction? Or was it fear? I didn't think so. I don't think I feared what may come from this anymore.\n\nWhen I had discovered my ability, all those years ago, it had seemed like a miracle. I was younger then, more fanciful. I thought it was a gift from God. Whatever my hands touched, they healed. Common colds, the flu, chicken pox, measles, even leprosy! Only diseases, though. I couldn't ever heal cuts or bruises or broken bones.\n\nIt was only a few years later I discovered the truth. God hadn't gifted me with anything. The Devil had cursed me. It was true, I could heal the worst of the worst. Men and women on their deathbeds could jump up and sing when I touched them, and I could watch the hair grow back onto the heads of children I'd high-fived in the hospital.\n\nThen, one night, my best friend had come over and he'd had the remnants of a little cold. At that point, I'd stopped using my ability for something as paltry as that. Not that I didn't care, or that I thought it was beneath me but experimentation with the more aggressive diseases like cancer or smallpox taught me that they took a lot out of me. So I learned to be more reticent and save it for the stuff that truly mattered. But earlier that day I had saved the life of a five year old girl who, I learned afterwards, was going to get to go to real school for the first time the following semester. I was high on a happiness that you can't imagine. So I slapped him on the back, took his cold away and answered truthfully when he asked me how I did it.\n\nThe movies talk to you like no one will believe it. And maybe most won't. But he did. Wholeheartedly. I remember we praised God for what he'd given me, and I remember it was the last time I praised God. The next day, I went to the hospital to give that little girl a bouquet of daisies - she'd told me they were her favorite. I found an empty bed and teary-eyed nurse who told me she'd passed away in her sleep the night before.\n\nI was devastated. Utterly crushed. And the day after, it happened again. The evening news reported the body of a homeless man in the park, dead from a case of leprosy I had taken from him a week ago. The day after, a woman keeled over in a parking garage, killed by an aggressive relapse of stage four brain cancer that she may not have realized she'd already recovered from nine days earlier.\n\nI didn't understand, but at the same time I did. There was link there that I recognized, subconsciously and deep down. Knowledge, it seemed, was my Achilles Heel. My Kryptonite. I had told someone what I could do, and for whatever reason it meant the people I saved had to die.\n\nIt was that night that I got drunk - really, properly drunk - for the first time in my life. I don't remember the events of the night. I know I blacked out somewhere north of 2:30 in the morning and woke up in a cell. I'd been picked up for drunk driving, but later that day I was hauled into an interrogation room to be questioned about the death of my best friend who had apparently been murdered the night before.\n\nI did it. I knew that. And the lead investigator seemed to as well, but a cop who knew me from my visits to the hospital convinced him to drop the charges. He told him I was shook up because of the death of that little girl, which wasn't necessarily a lie. I was released from police custody, but never from the shackles of the truth. No one could ever know what I could do, or innocent people would die.\n\nA year and a half later, a mother caught me visiting her son in the hospital. Saw me put my hand on his forehead. Saw the instant improvement in his face. I choked her to death in the alley beside the Hospital and drank myself into a three day coma. When I woke up, the boy was still alive and fit enough to attend his mother's funeral. Six months after that, I saved a little boy's dog from cancer and shot his father through the heart. A year after that, I was in Africa, healing Ebola cases and bludgeoned a fifteen year old girl to death when she caught me healing one of the town elders of a deadly fever.\n\nOn and on it went. At some point I stopped drinking. Started living with the psychological consequences of my actions. For a while, I hung it up as it were, but it wasn't that simple. My gift wasn't a conscious effort. My touch healed, regardless of whether or not I wanted it to and three more times I was forced to kill innocent people to save innocent people.\n\nAll of it led here. I was drifting through town, eating at a diner late at night when a local cop offered to let me stay at his home for the night. I had accepted and gone home wit him. Upon seeing his daughter laid up with the worst flu I had ever seen, I took it from her and smiled at her and stabbed her father in his study with a Statue of Liberty replica because he'd seen me through the crack of her door.\n\nHe was there on the floor beneath me, still staining his carpet with his own blood.\n\nI left the house before I was seen, left the city before I was identified and moved on to find some other poor soul to curse with my healings.", "Do not read this until a 100 years from the day of my death, or I will not be alone.\n \nI miss the parties, I miss talking to people. But I have a job, I’m not getting paid, but I have an obligation. \n\nWhich leaves me at a predicament. I’ve saved probably about 100,000 people, it’s been years since I’ve seen another person, or helped them. You see, I need to be there to help them. I need to touch them. The most dire people, the worst diseases are out of my reach. In hospitals, in quarantine, in prisons, hidden from my healing touch. \n\nI want to help, but I fear my failure. Should I risk many lives, of those who are not prepared to die, or let people die a hopeless, painful, and many times, gruesome death. Would I go to heaven because of my constant sacrifice to attempt to save many more, or hell because because I selfishly needed to be recognized being a hero. Where do I belong now? \n\nI am alone here now. I have no where to go. I killed the cancers, not all of them, not even that many, but now it’s their chance to win. I must leave, I cannot risk the same failure I had so few years ago. I need this curse to leave me, and I can’t just run from it, I must jump as well. \n\nI did not accept this, it gave me no choice, I wish not to live this cursed life bestowed to me. I am an outcast with rope to grab hold of, as any rope I hold will not tied again. These are my first words as an adult to be heard, I know they are my last words as well, but I then will not need to see my words plastered on the dead who I gave unavailing hope. This jump will make me light, in the heart, and in body.\n\n-A man too afraid to say his name.", "I read it wrong but here it is\n\nI was five when I found out, My dark gray pitbull was hit by a car when she was one. I ran out of the house when i heard the noise of a thunk and the car speed up. Luna was going to die. I held her in my arms and started to cry. But she started to lick my face. Her body had no bones sticking out like when I grabbed her, I told no one till her third birthday. “ When i was home alone when i was five luna got hit by a car and I healed her.” my brother looked at me with a look of surprise. “Wait really?” Dave asked. “Yea” I calmly said. Then there was an old slence and a sickening crack. We both ran over to see all of luna’s bones protruding out of her skin and eyes a milky white as if she was dead for years. Her lovely gray fur was matted with dry blood and her skin was dry and slightly green.\n\t\nWhen I was ten I found I can do as much good as harm. The school bully was just fucking with me and I knew something I could do. Earlier that year he fell out off a tree and cracked open his head. “ You remember when you fell out of that tree earlier this year?” James looked at me surprised. “ why are you bring this up queer.” I looked at him with a wicked grin across my face. “ I healed you” then there was a crunch and his eyes went white and he fell over. That's when I found out I can give life... and take it away.\n\t\n“Do you enjoy your powers?” I started hearing this when after I took james life. It wasn’t until I was thirteen that I saw it, kinda. It has white, blue and red eyes. His face was an almost black but was illuminated by the glow of its eyes. Its face had tencrals that went of every witch way and wazed and moved like tentacles and had a pair of pichers near its mouth like a spider. “What do you mean.” I asked the thing. “DON'T PLAY DUMB JOSH YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN.” Its voice growing with anger. “ i- i dont” my voice small and laced with fear. “Playing god.” The light slowly began to fade. I don't think I slept that night.\n\t\nBy high school it had stopped talking to me and I had healed 254 people. I know this is that as how many people died on March 23 without any reason. I got drunk at a party and was trying to get into a girls pants. And i told her about my powers the was she had me prove myself was she took a knife and cut down her arm and I healed her. I got a girlfriend but at the cost of the life’s of all those innocent people. Then it returned, it just started as a low chuckle till i asked it to stop. “You’re a murder you know.” it said. “Its fine i will heal more to make it up I have already healed fifty people.” I yelled at the beast as it just started that throaty chuckle again. “Not. Any. More.”\n\t\nIt was 2:27 am in the morning. And I had broken in to the hospital. It was my new year goal was to heal 4,500 people, and kill them all. Aroz had finally convinced me, after 28 years i convinced me why let people live. I am a god, I choose who lives and who dies. A fire had burned hundreds of people and they were in the burn unit here. Aroz had told me that when the people die they feel all the pain they felt when they lived all at the same time. All it took was one light touch and they would be healed and die the very next day.\n\t\nAfter walking through I was caught. The police were called and I was taken in for questioning. After about an hour of questioning heard Aroz say one thing. “Do it.”", "Her desk was the long plywood kind you'd find on a browse through IKEA and no doubt pass at some point whilst wondering where on earth you’d choose to go if you had to find a place for a store-wide game of hide-and-seek. They’d bought it together for her office and Nick took the better part of the afternoon to put it together in the summer. Why, Nick, why? Why couldn’t you just leave it damn well alone. There’d been piles of wooden pegs that hid themselves in the carpet, hammers that she’d not seen since, and many mugs of tea in an assortment of cups from the cute to the industrial. And what the fuck do I do now? Please, please, just let it go. Why couldn’t he just LET IT GO. \n\n She lifted her head from the plywood and scanned the office. It’s not fair. I-it just isn’t. It was big enough to lean back and hit the opposite back wall with your palms. There was enough space for her filing cabinets filled with their import logs and manifests (why, why did I keep them for so long), her main computer and all its knick-knack cute stationery, and space for her second PC, but that was all. Her potted plants were getting out of hand on top of the cabinets, and they’d brush up against her if she dared to reach too far backwards. The second computer she’d had to repair with the help of guides from websites that felt long-abandoned. It was custard-coloured and encased in the sort of aged pockmarked plastic that flexed and squealed whenever she picked up the monitor. There’d been parts to buy - power convertors, a new tape omni-reader and tapes. God, there were never enough tapes.\n\nThe program was open to the right page in ancient monochrome yellow – Corvus Medlist, predating Windows, before mice and cursors, and sanity, back when the world was wild and monitors gleamed in cathode rays, a time when people still almost understood how the transistor boards worked and would wonder how they’d ended up here with a machine that could count ballistics, and send missiles thousands of miles, and how the fuck you could cram so much into it, and who had breached the gap to make the fucking thing work? And there was a plaque bolted on too, of course, from the times when someone found the answers to that, and stripped all the models from the market, and archived it. But there were so many of those kinds of questions that were dismissed with ‘it just works’, and the archives were filled with so many other examples, and so no-one would notice it gone, and few would think anything of just one machine less. She’d listed it as having shipped out to the new storage unit in Connecticut, and had deleted the notice of arrival completely. It had been easy to do that in those times. It’s my fault. I let my guard down. He noticed when it broke. He noticed when the tapes ran out and the hospital couldn't cope, and when the hurricane-.\n\nThe cursor was still there at the end of the first entry. \n\n 1 > NAME = Elizabeth \"Lily\" Jane Jastrebski [admin]; maxillnesscount = NULL, reduceincidence = true, ceaseadditionaleffects = true. \nShe ejected the cassette, loaded another, tried to find a different solution. There were hundreds of names, all of them valid people, good people. Nick, please don’t make me. Please. I don’t know if I can do this. But she had to. She reached for the phone. She would talk to him before she removed the entry, and then they'd all be safe. Pick up, Nick, I need to talk to you. I want to see you. I don't want to do it alone-\n\n“Hello? Lills?”\n\n“N-nick?” The monitor blurred. She couldn’t feel her arms.\n\n“Lilly? Hey, are you alright? What’s wrong. Hey, talk to me! What happened? What’s going on?” \n\n“I tried, please, I tried so hard. I’m so sorry.\" The cursor was there, and she felt light-headed. And this was it, wasn't it? \"It’s my fault. It’s all m-my-” \n\n“Lily, stay calm, tell me what’s happened. What’s your fault?”\n\n“All of it. I, I can’t save it.” \n\n“Honey, honey just stay with me, I’m coming home. I’m getting my coat-“\n\n“It’s too late, Nick. It’s all too late.” Her hand hovered over the backspace key. “They’ll all be lost if I don’t do it, and I tried to find a way around, any way around. B-but if I don’t do it now t-then all, all of t-them will die an-“\n\n“Who’ll die? Lily, just start from the beginning. Tell me-“\n\n“I can’t,” she sobbed. “I l-love you Nick. Know that, please-” and Lilly held the backspace key then, and deleted his entry, and heard the phone clatter to the floor in gargled screams on the other end. \n", "Discovering my gift was purely by accident. A puppy, too sick to lift her head, suddenly bounding around with youthful energy. All I did was touch her head and wish it better. I didn’t tell anyone, not until the pup reached her second birthday. I sat in the backyard with my brother while the dog sprinted from fence to fence. My brother laughed when I mentioned it to him, that I saved our dog. He didn’t laugh for long, not when she stopped running.\n\n\nI didn’t use my power for years after. I kept it hidden away, a secret part of me that no one needed to know. It was easy; there weren’t too many opportunities to use it. My childhood was spent incident-free. I missed those days. School was hard, medical school even harder. What pushed my limits, however, was confronting death over and over again.\n\n\nRotations in ER made me use my power for the first time in over a decade. An infant, struggling to fight off an infection determined to take his life. I did it without thinking. No one noticed when I brushed my hand against his forehead, or how he magically responded to the treatments right after. His parents were just happy to bring home their baby boy.\n\n\nWhen I could avoid it, I did. When it would have been suspicious, I restrained myself. When people questioned me, I deflected. Focus that they’re alive, please don’t question how. After a few years, I thought I could get away with it all. A good system to save my patients without damning them in the end. Plus, alcohol eased the pain from the hopeless cases.\n\n\nI guess… I guess this was my punishment? Confidence turned into arrogance, blinding me from the tightrope I spent a lifetime walking. Now here I stood, my brother on his death bed. A disease with no cure, his body wasting away as quickly as his mind. I could save him. With just one touch and a wish, I could save my brother. Give him the full life he deserved. \n\n\nThen I thought of the consequences. How the doctor saved his brother. The miraculous recovery that should be impossible. The questions that would follow, the research that would be involved, time wasted on a treatment that wouldn’t work. And I would be at the center of it all. An endless storm of questions to find a cure. Paranoia reared its ugly head. It whispered through my thoughts, asking: Would you be able to keep your secret?\n\n\nThis gift was truly a curse. The power to save so many lives, except for the one that mattered. Heal my brother now and risk the truth. How many lives did I save over the years? How many did this decision threatened? If the truth came out, my brother would still be dead. Should I risk all their lives so that my brother may live just a little bit longer? \n\nThe night was long as I stood over him. My hand hovered a hairsbreadth away from his forehead. All I could think to myself was, Was it worth the risk?\n\n\nThat decision haunted me for the rest of my life.\n" ]	[ 1, 1, 1, 1, 2, 65 ]	[ "1545748584", "1545771264", "1545777000", "1545782763", "1545765586", "1545757259" ]
[removed]	[WP] The Cure for it all	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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "Hi, this submission has been removed.\n\n[Prompt users in the title, but don't play writing games or commission stories](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_6.3A_prompt_users_in_the_title.2C_but_don.27t_play_writing_games_or_commission_stories)\n\n- Prompts go in the title, do not extend into text. You can add commentary in the text, but don't add additional prompt restrictions. Also, avoid [too many details](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/prompts?src=RECIPE). \n\n\n\n---\n\n[Modmail](https://www.reddit.com/message/compose?to=%2Fr%2FWritingPrompts&subject=Removed Post) us if you have any questions or concerns. In the future, please refer to the [sidebar](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/about/sidebar) before posting. \n\nThis action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things." ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1545783833", "1545784136" ]
	[WP] Dreams can now be uploaded online for people to view. You meet up with one of the world's top dream makers	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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "“It’s time.” I thought to myself excitedly, “It’s finally time!”\n\nI’ve been waiting for this day for months, through the back-and-forth emails and all the paperwork they’ve asked for, endless correspondence with his agent, and all leading up to today. Honestly, the amount of secrecy around this meeting has amped my curiosity up to almost unbearable levels. \n\nEver since the breakthrough happened, almost 40 years ago now, the world of entertainment had forever been changed. It was such a simple concept, being able to live someone elses dreams in the most literal sense. So simple, but so revolutionary. I can’t claim to be an expert to any degree, but the recording process was built on an old, almost abandoned medical imaging technology that some eccentric professor in Sweden had poured most of his personal fortune into developing.\n\nOf course, he’s now the worlds wealthiest individual so I suppose it worked out for him!\n\nAnyway, almost overnight there were several competing businesses developing ways to “download” the recorded dreams into your own head, to experience them as though they were your own. They succeeded pretty swiftly, and soon after that the movie industry collapsed entirely. Dreams cost very little to produce, compared to the multi-million dollar budgets demanded by the big hollywood blockbusters seen before the turn of the century. Existing genres were all represented, and the most popular “dreamers” rose to prominence in their preferred areas much as authors are recognised in the world of literature.\n\nAnyway, I’ve gotten away from myself. Far and away the most popular dreams are nightmares. They’re like watching a horror movie, multiplied by a million. Instead of trying to manipulate the viewer into mirroring the fear the protagonist is supposed to feel, they can now feel it directly. That brings us to why I’m here, sitting in an airy, expansive coffee shop in downtown Sydney. Jetlagged after flying halfway around the world for a single interview, waiting to be found by a publicist who’ll be taking me to meet Edward King.\n\nEdward King is a prodigy. He appeared out of nowhere about five years ago, and quickly became known as the source of the greatest and most terrifying nightmares on the market. Despite this, he is also the most secretive individual on the planet. Nobody I’ve spoken to has ever seen him, outside of his publishing team. I haven’t even been able to determine if his name is really Edward King, or if it’s a pseudonym harking back to a “Stephen” of the same name, back around the turn of the millenium.\n\nA woman wearing oversized sunglasses and a very expensive suit unless I miss my guess waves me over, “You’re the journalist?” She says impatiently, glancing down at her watch. “Good, good. Traffic was a nightmare getting here so we’ll need to be quick, the window for meeting Mr. King is rather brief.” Almost without looking, in one of the smoothest motions I’ve ever seen, she reaches behind her and opens the rear door of a car that has barely stopped moving before ushering me inside. The journey is a blur. I’m kept so busy reading and signing assorted declarations of secrecy, with embargoes placed on any recorded outcomes of this interview for a minimum of 12 months, that I barely have a chance to glance out of the windows, let alone know where I’m being taken.\n\nAbruptly, all of the paperwork vanishes and the woman has me halfway up a wide, white gravel driveway toward an imposing looking house before I’ve even registered that the care has stopped. Everything is happening is such a rush, Mr. King must be an awfully busy individual if this much haste is needed just to make a meeting on time!\n\nMore paperwork to be signed as I enter the house, I just sign it without reading. There’s been enough legalese by this point to melt my brain, if they were going to get me to sign away the soul of my firstborn that would already have happened.\n\nIt’s finally time. At long last. I’ve been ushered into an airlock-type room, with serious locks on the doors both behind and in front of me, and been thoroughly searched for anything that could cause any harm. I mean seriously, they could give the TSA a run for their money on stretching the definition of “harmful”.\n\nThe door creaks open. The room on the other side is entirely white. White tiled floor. White dream recorder. White furniture that, oddly, appears to be bolted to the floor. A teenage boy, so pale as to look almost ghost-like, dressed entirely in white. White satin slippers. White silk pyjamas. Bleached white eyes stretched wide, staring. Staring directly at me, almost as though they’re looking directly into my soul.\n\nThe trip through the house flashes back through my mind. Half-glimpsed rooms that looked like laboratories with walls covered in chemicals, seen through swiftly closing doors suddenly, shockingly, make horrifying sense. How had I never considered this before?\n\nThe man I’m here to meet, the dreamer. Not author. I’d approached this like an interview with any other public figure. Previous interviews with dreamers had turned out the rough figure of 1% of recorded dreams being viable for publication. Edward King had been putting out approximately one new dream a month, every month, for the past five years.\n\nI’ve only just realised. It’s only just clicked. Edward King is a horror dreamer. He has been living through at least a hundred nightmares a month. The truth is like falling face first into a frozen lake. I’m completely numb and chilled through.\n\nHis nightmares aren’t natural. They’re chemical. He lives his nightmares every day, completely out of control.\n\nIt takes a moment too long to notice that this poor, emaciated boy with the petrifying gaze bears a monogram in pale grey on his breast.\n\n“E.K.”\n\n“His mind can’t take it any more.” I hear from behind me.\n\n“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You really should have read all of the paperwork.”\n\nA needle pricks the back of my neck, and I fall into the darkness." ]	[ 1, 3 ]	[ "1545784801", "1545789057" ]
[removed]	[WP] You are investigating industrial fraud. Your case: Why is there a popcorn button on every microwave when each bag of popcorn explicitly states not to use said button? Is there a conspiracy?	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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "Hi u/poisonshift, this submission has been removed.\n\n[Direct prompt replies must be good-faith attempts at new stories or poems](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_1.3A_direct_prompt_replies_must_be_good-faith_attempts_at_new_stories_or_poems)\n\n- Fill-in-the-blank: Responses must be at least 100 words. 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 Prompts will be removed if there's a high possibility for rule breaking responses ([rule 7](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_7.3A_prompts_will_be_removed_if_there.27s_a_high_possibility_for_rule_breaking_responses))\n\n\n\n---\n\n[Modmail](https://www.reddit.com/message/compose?to=%2Fr%2FWritingPrompts&subject=Removed%20post&message=https://old.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/a9kx6i/-/%0A%0A) us if you have any questions or concerns. In the future, please refer to the [sidebar](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/about/sidebar) before posting. \n\nThis action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things." ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1545793870", "1545795547" ]
[removed]	[WP] You come home from work/school and you see one of your own characters you have created over the past year. They say this: "We need to talk"	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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "Hi u/Lolster239, this submission has been removed.\n\n[Prompt users in the title, but don't play writing games or commission stories](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_6.3A_prompt_users_in_the_title.2C_but_don.27t_play_writing_games_or_commission_stories)\n\n- Prompts go in the title, do not extend into text. You can add commentary in the text, but don't add additional prompt restrictions. Also, avoid [too many details](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/prompts?src=RECIPE). \n\n\n\n---\n\n[Modmail](https://www.reddit.com/message/compose?to=%2Fr%2FWritingPrompts&subject=Removed%20post&message=https://old.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/a9m7tu/-/%0A%0A) us if you have any questions or concerns. In the future, please refer to the [sidebar](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/about/sidebar) before posting. \n\nThis action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things." ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1545805244", "1545806107" ]
	[WP] Dwarves imbue magic with each strike of their hammer into whatever they are making. As tradition a father forges a small hammer for his son to learn with, it is this youngs dwarfs first swing at the anvil and the magic he is able to release with each hit is unimaginable.	140	[ "Off-Topic Discussion: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfill every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "Even after the forge was cleared out and the village elders were brought in, the sparks still fell through the air. Each speck of bright blue slowly cascading down to the ground. \n\n“I’ve never seen anything like this. Fetch me another hammer!” Randall’s father stepped forward and offered his own hammer. Randall, such a human name. But even when the Genesis tribe confirmed it Tronix didn’t want to believe it. The tribe said that a name of such variance carried the promise of a special life. Only now did he understand. Randall took the hammer in his hand and slammed it against the anvil.\n\nSparks. Not as many as before, and a golden color, not the same blue. “Hmm, interesting. Bring me his hammer.” One of the elders brought Randall’s hammer to Pharen, the lead elder. He slammed it against the anvil, and only produced the same kind of sparks. He studied the room for a minute, then handed the hammer to Randall. “Show me.” \n\nRandall stepped towards the anvil, and took a large swing. The room was enveloped in sparks. The bright blue that he produced before. All of the elders had awestruck looks on their faces. “I never...” Pharen took the hammer back. “It seems, that he has some special connection to this hammer. As if it were perfect for him. How does it feel when you hold it son?” Randall thought for a moment, and mimed holding the hammer. “It feels... right. It’s comfortable in my hand, and it’s not even heavy.” Pharen looked around again, and found a sword. He placed it on the anvil. Randall struck it. Instead of showering the room in sparks, all of the power went into the sword, running throughout it like veins, the magic giving the sword life. Pharen grabbed it, and slashed at a training dummy. It burst completely into flames.\n\n“This is astonishing. With training, we could create weapons with more power than we’ve ever seen before.” The elders discussed, and then turned to Tronix. “With your approval, we would like to train Randall personally.” Tronix thought for a moment. “Okay.” He turned to Randall. “If you want to, of course.”" ]	[ 1, 33 ]	[ "1545845176", "1545865949" ]
	[WP] You round a RTX 2080 for only $60 at a goodwill, unbeknownst to you, it was haunted.	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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "\"Oh, only $60?\" I asked.\n\n\"I heard the card has some graphics artifacts. Broken Tensor cores or something. Should be easily fixable for $500, or you can live with it, it's bearable.\" the seller said.\n\nI bought the graphics card and walked out of Goodwill, thinking I've made a deal of my life.\n\n\"Hell yeah, the best GPU on the market, for just sixty bucks? Fuck the artifacts, I'll finally run Vampyr!\" I thought. I quickly raced to my house and installed the card in my PC, then updated GeForce Experience and downloaded the RTX 2080 drivers.\n\nThen I launched Vampyr. The graphics artifacts weren't too bad, some stray pixels on the textures here and there, some missing lines on the screen, but it was still playable. The LEDs on my RGB model of the card were bloody red all the time though, even when I set them to run through the entire spectrum of colors.\n\nI decided to turn raytracing on in the settings menu to really check out the power of that card. The reflections were really beautiful, but there was a single unsettling thing about them.\n\nEvery human face on the reflections was my long dead grandpa.\n\nI'm sure artificial intelligence features of the card were in play here, because I had a video from my birthday with the grandpa on the computer, and the grandpa on the reflections was the same as the grandpa on the video.\n\nThen I decided to try out deepfakes. It would really showcase the AI features of the RTX, so I got a porn flick and a thousand photos of Sylvester Stallone. I thought inserting the main actor from Rambo into a Sasha Grey porn movie would be a great way to test out deepfakes, because everyone did celebrity deepfakes.\n\nI waited for the video to render, and certainly I wasn't expecting my grandpa in a porn flick with Sasha Grey.\n\nI couldn't close the video, and in the middle of the playback, my screen broke. A lot of broken lines appeared on the screen. A minute later, a message appeared on the screen.\n\n\"THIS PC WILL DIE\" was written in a Windows 10 style dialog box.\n\nI yanked the cord out to prevent this. Unfortunately, the RTX was still flashing bloody red and the screen was still on.\n\nI dismantled the PC and removed the card. The card was still flashing bloody red, and the screen was still on.\n\nI even cut the power to the house. Nope, my PC was still going to die.\n\nI took a hammer and I felt a 240V shock going through my body. The card didn't want to be destroyed. That's why it did it to me.\n\nI went to sleep. The next day, everything was okay, except that my PC was dead and my screen was broken.\n\nAfter I ate breakfast, the card again started to control my muscles. It forced me to pick it up, pack it into the box I got with the card and gift it to my best friend.\n\nHe will hate me for this." ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1545867998", "1546014763" ]
	[WP] After your grandfathers passing you were left a leather bound book adorning a scythe. As you open the book a single note falls out reading “enjoy your newfound power” As you look in the book you’re overtaken by a dark power and become the new grim reaper	285	[ "Off-Topic Discussion: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfill every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "\\-- Please, state your name for the protocol. \n\\-- I am Death, the destroyer of worlds, the elderly hag with a broom, I am a — \n\\-- Jesper, just answer the question please, I have a meeting in ten. \n\\-- Right, sorry, m’am. Ahem. \n GR of 80003 Westminster, Colorado.Previously known as Jesper Hearth. \n\\-- On the 1st of January, 2019 by the local calendar you were drawn to an entity C.234.123.999— \n\\-- …Balzur. \n\\-- Excuse me? \n\\-- That’s what was on his tag, Balzur. \n\\-- Don’t make this worse for you, honey. Anyway, the telemetry shows that the soul of the entity is still on mortal plain. Care to explain?\n\nOkay, to be completely honest with you, I always had a soft spot for Maine Coons. One used to live with us, long before the whole “grim reaper” thing started. What happened was, of course, he was already dead when I was drawn to another suburban street of my district that night. Old bugger was probably scared of the fireworks, this time to death.\n\nUn-noticed, I went right through the front door, past Robin, who was trying to assemble a new Lego set, then past his father, who was trying to assemble his ego after giving a sexy (by his standards) pair of panties to Karen, who in turn almost burned his soul to a coal with nothing more than a quick look. The great thing about this job is you don’t have to be invisible, unseen or otherworldly like that. People instinctively avert their gaze, since very few of them want to look into Death’s (and by proxy, my) eyes.\n\nBalzur was just lying there, in the backyard, his grey coat glistening under the scarce moonlight that was getting through the clouds. You could already see a tattoo of a scythe that started from my index finger on the right arm and continued past the wrist, then ending abruptly after about 10 centimeters. That’s because I was in a presence of a soul that left the body. Balzur, now with 100% less flesh was adapting poorly. He tried to walk to me, but his soul cord was still attached, so instead he did a somersault and landed on his back. I laughed at the poor bastard and scratched his belly to make it less traumatic. While he was distracted purring, I gently cut his cord with my scythe, it was almost done. The last thing to do was to rip a little cat-sized hole in the mortal plain and nudge him to eternal life.\n\nAs all cats before Balzur and all cats after him, once the door was open, there was no way he would go through it. I tried, I really did. After what felt like an eternity I felt a tug to be someplace else. Another death, another soul. You really aren’t supposed to do it, but I decided to let him roam for awhile, and come back for him at the end of the shift. That was a week ago.\n\n\\-- Jesper? Tick-tock! Meeting at ten. \n\\-- Oh, yeah, terribly sorry, ma’m.\n\nThe building shook, the lights flickered, automated alert system let us know that “CODE RED IS IN PROGRESS, THIS IS NOT A DRILL, I REPEAT, THIS IS NOT A DRILL, HOLLOW SOUL AT 89%”. Out of the window of Linda’s office we saw a soul in the shape of a Maine Coon which was already as high as five-story building, souls flying inside his form like cows into tornado.\n\nI really need to use that organizer HR gave me in a welcome package.", "\"My dearest Grandson, \n\n\nWhen my father had passed, I had taken up a mantle many had thought to be a myth. Many have thought the Grim Wanderer and the Ferryman were stories to better ease the minds of a world after this one. It was that grim December day in 1941 that a Navy doctor passed me the gift that he had been given when his father had died. I had just joined the military myself, a Navy Corpsman made to aid the Marines in the Pacific when the war was announced, and the machine had begun to churn its way to the battlefront. \n\n\nI had thought him mad, until a man laid dying in my arms, begging for release, blown apart by Japanese artillery and laying upon the beach. I touched his chest to assure him all will be well and that he will live, but I watched the life seep from his eyes and his soul pull itself from his lifeless, broken form. He began to walk, stepped into an ancient dinghy, and sailed to a place I have yet to discover myself. \n\n\nI did not choose my son to pass this gift to, because my son is ambitious, his desire for power and the desire to sway the world had consumed him. This gift- this curse, could not be passed onto a man such as he, for the ramifications would be far too great to comprehend. A balance, to which you seem to just... know... can not be broken. \n\n\nBut you, I have watched you for quite some time, I've judged your actions well. You've led a simple life, volunteered to care with the terminally ill, mourned when your patients had died, and learned that the world is cold and unforgiving- yet you've never lost your hope. You've become a good man, with good judgment that a fair few have been lacking for quite some time. I only pray that you continue to show such with what I will pass onto you. Always remember: at times, Death is Justice, but it can also be a great mercy. \n\n\nWith All My Love, \nGrandfather\" \n\n\nI stared at the letter intently for a long moment, my brows furrowed as the letter's writing glared up at me intently. The black bound book was heavy, and while the weight was cumbersome in my hands, it felt as if something was weighing heavily upon my shoulders as well. The first page was turned, and as I stared at the blank page, the scarlet-black words began to form, as if being written by some omnipotent force. \n\n\nThe words read as follows... \n\n\n*The History of Death: The Birth of Man* \nChapter One\n\n&#x200B;", "It had come in the mail hours ago, a beautiful dark leather-bound notebook with small dark stones carefully inlaid at each corner and a small metallic scythe in the center surrounded in a red circle. There was something about it begging me to open it yet I still had reservations, after all, it was sent by grandad, a man I had met twice in my life once when I was thirteen and the other two weeks ago on his deathbed.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nAs I turned it over in my hands, the soft leather filling me with warmth and a strange sense of strength I opened it eager to see what was written within. To my shock, the pages were completely empty despite being as ornately decorated like the cover, ghost white pages with a scarlet red border surrounding each page. Flipping through each page a note fluttered out written in the same handwriting as my granda reading, \"enjoy your newfound power.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nBefore I could begin to process what the note meant or why it was given to me, shadows erupted from the book like dark flames engulfing me with a sensation of deep cold literally freezing my heart as the shadowy flames began to morph into an obsidian dark cloak and in my hands I found myself gripping a scythe with a dark wooden handle the same shade of brown as the leather on the notebook, with a silver blade stretching the length from my shoulder to my arm. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nIt was evident to me what had occurred, I had become an emissary of death himself, a grim reaper. However, questions began to flood my mind, primarily why me and what do I do now? But, before I could reflect on my concerns the previously blank notebook flipped to the front page and a name appeared, \"Alice P. Bradley.\" \n\n&#x200B;\n\nA sense of urgency began to fill my being as I closed the notebook, and walked out the front door into the cold airy night steeling myself for what I feared would be the first of many names. ", "On a seemingly random, meaningless day \n\nYou come across a book, forgotten, tucked away. \n\n\nOpening the old leather book you hear a faint rustling sound.\n\nA worn sheet of paper comes tumbling down.\n\n\nAs your eyes scan the pages your expression turns sour.\n\nIn your grandfather's writing: \"enjoy your newfound power\".\n\n\nIn an instant, faster than a quickly drawn breath,\n\nA scythe and robe appear, seems like you've become death.\n\n\nThe sound of your calling becoming deafeningly loud, \n\nYou rise up and leave, cloaked in a black, smoky shroud.\n\nPassing unaware strangers on the dark city streets,\n\nYou now know instinctively when you two will meet.\n\n\nAn old brick building, apartment 3C.\n\nPost-heart-attack, you meet old Mrs. Lee.\n\n\nHelping her up and unsure what to say, \n\nYou end up babbling, \"sorry it's my first day.\"\n\n\nThe ghostly woman laughs and says with a smile, \n\n\"Don't you worry now I've been prepared for a while.\"\n\n\nShe closes her eyes with a peaceful expression.\n\nAnd with a puff of black smoke you send her to heaven.\n\nWith grandpa long dead, his note clenched in your fist,\n\nYou think to yourself, \"what's more important than this?\"\n\nDid he ignore all the souls forced to wait? \n\nAnd why did he select you, out of all, for this fate? \n\n\nThe tumultuous power inside starts to burn.\n\nSo you disappear, into thin air, with a turn.\n\n\nAs you traipse 'round the globe I lay back and gloat.\n\nI bet you wish now you hadn't opened my note.\n\n\n" ]	[ 1, 1, 3, 11, 72 ]	[ "1545912025", "1545927180", "1545922657", "1545920228", "1545916206" ]
	[WP] "Sticks and stones can't break my bones, but words may often hurt me." Tell the story of an indestructible, but sensitive character.	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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "He was the strongest man I'd ever met. He was brave, funny, courageous, and wasn't afraid of anything. At least, that's how I saw him. He was the hardest man, but also the softest. Many people knew him, but I knew him the best, he was my dad.\n\nOne time, I got laughed at by kids in my class. They laughed at me after I'd tripped and spilled red juice on my clothes. My legs just gave out on me. It wasn't like I'd tripped or anything. I cried as they laughed and didn't know what to do. I ran home as quick as I could after school, across the playground, past soccer field, through the backyards of my neighbors, and burst through the front door. I closed the door behind me and cried as my father came to me and picked me up and carried me to the couch to talk. \n\nAfter explaining what had happened, he told me, \"Remember, sticks and stones may break your bones, but words will never hurt you.\" We spoke a bit longer, and he sent me on my way to change and got me a chocolate milk. Later, I told him, \"Dad, I bet sticks and stones can't hurt you at all!\" He laughed, \"I guess we're the perfect team then!\" The chocolate milk helped my headache a bit, but I just was tired.\n\nI loved spending time with him. We'd go hiking, or play games. When I got tired he'd carry me to where we were going. We went camping one time and he chopped up some old dead logs for firewood and showed me how to make a fire. When it got really dark out, he'd put his arm around me and I'd fall asleep with him protecting me from everything. Nothing could hurt him. \n\nHe was super smart too. Always knew the answer to everything. he helped me with my numbers. He knew how to spell all the hard words. He'd tell me, \"You're such a hard worker, you're gonna get this. Keep trying.\"\n\nOne day, while we were doing my words, I couldn't concentrate. I just couldn't get one of the words I was working on and my mouth just didn't want to say it. He kept encouraging me, but I couldn't do it. I was really tired and I fell asleep in the kitchen and I think I hit my head, because when I woke up i was in a different room and people were talking to my dad.\n\nHe was the strongest man I'd ever met. He was brave, funny, courageous, and wasn't afraid of anything. At least, that's how I saw him. He was the hardest man, but also the softest. Sticks and stones couldn't break his bones, but this word that everyone kept saying was hurting him. It was making him cry.\n\nWhatever \"cancer\" was, I would fight it for him and protect him, because sticks and stones can break my bones, but words can't ever hurt me." ]	[ 1, 3 ]	[ "1545938767", "1545945554" ]
	[WP] A new online retailer offers guaranteed 30-mintues-or-less delivery to anywhere on Earth... and Amazon's sales are tanking as a result. As a high-ranking Amazon exec, you've been tasked with figuring out how exactly they're pulling it off, by any means necessary, no matter what it takes.	55	[ "Off-Topic Discussion: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfill every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "How do we feel about BBFlite? \n\nIf you want our official position, go read one of the frantic press releases we've been putting out. \"We're not concerned,\" they all say, \"we welcome the competition.\" \n\nHow do I feel about BBFlite? Well.\n\nI knew they were a problem when they didn't implode a month after they launched. I finished updating my resume the day BBFlite went public. The layoffs began a few weeks later, just as BBFlite began its meteoric rise to the top of the Fortune 500. It grew and kept growing, eating up market share, riding high on its impossible promise to deliver anything anywhere in 30 minutes or less.\n\n\"How do they do it?\" my boss asked. He was literally wringing his hands. \"Do you know?\" \n\n\"Not yet,\" I said, \"but I've got an idea.\" \n\nA few hours later I got out my phone and placed my first order on BBFlite: a green lampshade. A little timer popped up in the bottom corner of the screen. I reclined my chair, feeling smug, and waited. Twenty minutes later, I flagged down a flight attendant and ordered a whiskey. She returned a couple minutes later, the whiskey in one hand and a box with BBFlite's logo in the other. \n\n\"I think this is for you,\" she said. I reached for the package. My name, seat number, and flight information were on the label. Inside was a green lampshade. I was only a little surprised. I hadn't expected that it would be easy.\n\nThe plane touched down in Moscow early the next morning. I left the lampshade on my seat. \n\nI could have flown to Irkutsk, but I took the train instead, using the extra travel time to finalize the arrangements for the dive. When I reached Lake Baikal, the boat was waiting for me. The ruddy-faced captain greeted me with a single grunt and gestured toward the cabin. I spent the next hours gripping the arms of my chair and fighting back seasickness as the boat struggled through miles of choppy gray water. We weighed anchor and by the time I staggered back onto the deck the submersible was ready to board. I climbed inside and greeted the two other occupants briefly. \n\nOnce the hatch was closed we began our slow descent. The water quickly darkened from blue to a deep navy. When we passed the 200 meter mark one of the Russians tugged on my sleeve. \n\n\"Very little light here,\" he said, pointing to the screen where the depth ticked passed 250 meters. At 1000 meters he spoke up again. \"No light, now,\" he said. \"Midnight.\" \n\nWe kept descending. The submersible creaked as we eased passed 1500 meters and my ears popped. At 1550 meters, the submersible slowed its descent. At 1700 meters we stopped. A new record for Lake Baikal. The Russians were chattering happily as I got out my phone and pulled up BBFlite. I navigated to my cart and hit \"Check Out.\" I didn't expect much. There was no way my phone could transmit any data from this depth. I thought I must be hallucinating when the little timer popped up at the bottom of the screen. \n\nI peered out the small window at the pressing darkness, holding my breath and wishing for a glass of whiskey. Behind me, the Russians quieted. After a long moment one of them said something that sounded like a question. I turned around. He was pointing at a screen. An enormous blob was a few hundred meters directly above us, descending at a rapid clip. My breath caught in my throat. We watched it come toward us, the silence only broken by the intermittent creak of the submersible. The blob stopped when it reached our depth. I pressed my face against the window again as the Russians scrambled to take pictures. At first I didn't see anything. Then the submersible turned and the twin cones of light caught and held the object as it hung, suspended, in front of us. It was a large, commercial clothes dryer, tied up with a large, red ribbon. I didn't need to see the label to know it was addressed to me. I whirled back around to face the screen just in time to see a small dot speeding away from the dryer, back toward the surface. \n\nIt took a bit more planning to get to Cape Denison. During the winter, the storms come on quickly and the wind is brutal. I stood near the frozen shore. In front of me, the frozen Commonwealth Bay held a giant iceberg in fast ice. I held my phone in a numb hand, watching the timer count down to my most recent order: a Bengal cat named Lulu. I squinted into the wind, looking for the black speck of an approaching drone, promising myself that I would catch it this time. The bones in my fingers creaked in the cold. I moved to switch the phone to my other hand, but the bitter cold made me slow and clumsy. The phone slid from my grip and clattered a few feet down the rocky slope before disappearing in a bank of snow. I stumbled after it, crouching beside the spot where it had sank into the snow. I began to dig frantically, pawing at the snow, until my numb fingers closed around the thin phone. I wiped the snow from the screen and squinted at the timer. It flashed 29:30, then 29:31. I began to grin and laugh into my thick scarf. Then the timer stopped and a new message appeared. \n\nPackage delivered! \n\nMy mouth dropped open and I looked around frantically for the cat and the impossible machine that had delivered it. I searched the sky until my eyes watered. Then, suddenly, the wind died down and I heard the soft meow behind me. \n\nSo, after all that, how do I feel about BBFlite? \n\nI'll let you know after my first day." ]	[ 1, 7 ]	[ "1545947756", "1545948186" ]
	[WP] An O is an immortal entity made of pure oxygen. You can tell they are around when the air becomes clearer and the wind whispers with tiny voices you can't quite make out. Strike a match. Start a fire. Loan them the energy to speak.	48	[ "Off-Topic Discussion: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfill every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "The night is clear and the ancient lights of stars finished their billions of light year journeys on this planet. Over top an unlit campfire in the middle of the forest, parts of those lights end their journey in the eager eyes of Three boy scouts and their scout master. \nOne of the boys was kneeling before the pile of wood striking flint against steel. The others watching him, create sparks that did not quite reach the wood before burning out and floating into the slight breeze. All was calm in the small clearing they were sitting in. The scout master moved to the edge of the forest to relieve himself. \nOne of the ones not attempting to secure the Fire safety merit badge leaned back and listened to the breeze as it moved through the trees and clearing. “Greg, did you hear about O?” he asked his head tilted to the sky and his eyes closed, basking in the ancient starlight above. \nGreg turned from watching Joey striking the steel with a piece of flint to look over at Steve as he basked in the starlight. Shook his head smiling a moment, “I’ve heard of the training of O.” his smile becoming more of a devious smirk. \nSteve cracked open one of his eyes and smirked back at Greg, “Oh I’m sure you’ve heard all about the training of O, but I’m talking about a different O.” He closed his eye again tilting his head slightly as if listening again before he continued, “O the invisible immortal that whispers hidden truths in the wind.” \nJoey looked up from his task before speaking, “O is old, O is wise, When the sky is clear, and the wind is near, strike a match, and advice will appear.” His hands still striking the flint on the steel. As he finished the ancient poem he had read the spark was caught by the breeze and drawn down into the fire pit. \nThen the breeze picked up into a wind. And the fire flared to life, Joey just barely stumbling away as the flame rose six feet high before settling down to two feet above the burning logs. The first flickered and burned as it started to form a huminoid shape. All three of scouts looked on at the figure as the wind shifted, and hot air was blown into the three scouts by the wind. Sound carried along the wind along with the heat. \n“Carpe noctem” was the first sound that the three scouts could hear. The wind slowed as the flaming figure pointed a flickering finger of fire at each of them, “Ex Nihilo Nihil Fit” then the fire settled lower as the figure seemed to lose its humanoid shape. All three scouts looked at each other in confused amazement. \n“Okay so apparently O is real.” Steve said, then thought out loud, “we will have to figure out what he meant.” \nA few minutes later the scout master walked back from answering natures call.\n" ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1545955009", "1546008159" ]
	[WP] Your father used to be the best fiddle player the world had ever seen; he taught you how to play from a young age, but is now so old he can hardly play anymore. One day, as you’re by his bedside, you sense a dark presence in the corner, leering at the solid gold fiddle on the mantle.	23	[ "Off-Topic Discussion: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfill every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "I paced my Pa’s bedroom aimlessly. Though he slumbered peacefully right now, not an hour ago he was coughing up blood. He wouldn’t last long. The doctors said a week or two last month, and the rate he faded made to prove them right. But Pa ain’t no quitter. He spent his days reminiscing about his career, imparting wonderful tips for my own that I’d heard hundreds of times before. He’d point to the trophies and photos hung on the walls, recalling the events with perfect clarity. Thank God his mind remained sharp all this time, although maybe dementia would be a blessing since the arthritis stopped him playing.\n\nI stopped to look at the oldest trophy my father had, a golden fiddle he’d won as a young man. He never told me that tale, but I sure as heck asked a bunch. It was almost like he was ashamed of it, despite where he placed it: on the mantle, easily visible everyday. Maybe now he’d tell me.\n\nI realized I’m not the only one staring at it; in the corner of the room darkness had coalesced into a shape vaguely human. Whatever it was it stank of death and had burning coals for eyes, coals that were focused hungrily on the glimmering violin. I may not be a coward, but when an embodiment of Satan himself oozes into your fathers living room, you get scared. I stared for a few seconds, noting how the pure shadow was developing shape, and color. His shift gazed to my Pa, and I reacted. God must’ve given me strength because I was between that evil and my father in the blink of an eye.\n\n“Evening,” it said with a voice like a thousand wailing children. He was fully here, then. Though his eyes remained red and glowing, and his skin the deepest crushing void, he wore a long white shirt under a charcoal vest inlaid with scintillating patterns of sickening green. His slacks matched his vest, and his polished black shoes smoked where they contacted the carpet. He reminded me of a corrupted dandy.\n\nPa must’ve smelled it, because he woke up then, and he was angry. I’d never seen the look in his eyes before. It was revulsion and pity, like when you find a rat caught with a mouse trap round it’s throat. He’d met the devil before, I knew it. When he spoke, it was with a clear voice I hadn’t heard in months.\n\n“What’d’you think you’re doing ‘round these parts, devil? I thought I got rid of ya ages ago!”\n\n“I felt I would respond to your challenge. I can’t have a loss tarnishing my good name.” Again, tortured kids screeched his words, and I shuddered.\n\n“What challenge?” my pa asked through gritted teeth.\n\n“Let’s see if I remember. ‘Come on back, if you ever wanna try again.’ I do want to” The shadow split into a grin, each tooth resembling a massacre.\n\n“You son of a bitch. You know I can’t play no more.”\n\n“Then you concede? Excellent. I have a special room reserved for you. I think you’ll like it. It’s got-”\n\n“NO!” I screamed, making both the devil and me pa jump. Can’t say much about my life, but I startled the morning star himself. “I’ll be his second.”\n\n“Junior, no. You can’t join me, I won’t allow it.” Dad said hysterically. I didn’t know what the challenge was, but if it meant I could save him eternal torment, he’d have had to call Jesus himself down to stop me trying.\n\n“This is unorthodox.” the devil said, as he stroked a materialized pointed goatee. “You didn’t have a second last time, and who better than your son! I accept, but the stakes will need to be raised.”\n\nMy dad started to sob, but I steeled myself, “What stakes?”\n\n“If you win, your father keeps his soul, and the fiddle. You lose, I take your soul as well, and those of all your family to come.”\n\nI wasn’t married, I had no kids. That bet seemed so simple, “Fine. What’s the challenge?” The foul being turned it’s coals towards my pa and laughed.\n\n“You never told him? Glorious.” He turned back to me, “I bet your fathers soul against your family whole, ‘cause I think I’m better than you with the fiddle. I’ll start, as is my custom.” He snapped his fingers and a fiddle appeared in his hands. Stradivarius had nothing on that thing, it was the most gorgeous instrument I had ever laid eyes on. The wood was unearthly, resonating with some energy I couldn’t define. When he struck the strings with the bow, a hiss like a viper resonated throughout the room. Behind him a band appeared; a guitarist with 7 fingers per hand and 5 eyes, a crimson drummer with 4 arms, and a piano that appeared unmanned, but throbbed rhythmically.\n\n“No. There was no mention of a band in the challenge. Either send them back, or provide me with an equally skilled and obedient backup group. That or admit you can’t beat me.” I goaded. I knew that any musician is made better with accompaniment, and I’m no fool to try to take on evil incarnate with any disadvantages.\n\n“Aren’t you feisty. Fine, name your backups”\n\n“Give me a flutist, a bass drummer, and a trianglist.”\n\nThe devil raised an eyebrow at my request, but seconds later, through jets of blue fire arrived my support group. My dad seemed to go into fits and called me over.\n\n“Johnny,” he said, a sudden seriousness taking hold, “take my fiddle. Raise your bow, and play hard. Hell might be breaking loose, but I know you have cards up your sleeve. If you win you’ll have saved my soul, but if you loose we all go in the hole.”\n\nA jaunty riff played as I nodded to Pa. The music built as I pulled down the golden fiddle and bow. The piano joined in as I stood in front of my band. I found my toe tapping along, and as the devil started playing, I knew his character. He played temptation and lust, the harmonies extracted by his saw sounding as beautiful as the works of Peter Paul Rubens. I felt desire and mirth in my very soul, tainted by the evil from which it sprang. A long note drew as the demons finished their first volley in this battle of melody. He was good. Amazing, even, but I knew why he lost to my dad. I turned to my band, “Follow my lead.”\n\nI knew my father kept this violin tuned to perfection. I hear him every day, when he can manage. I looked over, and his face was ghost white, tears threatening to erupt. I think he was terrified, but maybe he forgot who taught me. I raised the bow to the strings, and played.\n\nA glorious verbunkos rhythm flowed effortlessly, the violin singing the wonders of heaven and earth. Soon after, my band joined, providing an evil edge that threatened to drown my tribute. Instead, it served to highlight my own skills and the beauty of all that was good in the world. A quick shift in tempo, and my weapon cried of battle against darkness, of honor and courage. Something leaked from Satan's eye, I think it was blood, and he wiped it away absently. I slowed the song drastically, finishing with a tune of charity and temperance, of justice and wisdom, but most of all, I played of humanity. I closed my eyes, letting tears flow freely as I lost myself to all that made the human soul glorious. I didn’t open them until I ended with a few short notes and a strike of the triangle. No eyes was without something resembling a tear, and Satan had shifted his being, looking more like the right hand of God than one who was cast down.\n\nLucifer bowed his head to me, and spoke with a voice too pure to comprehend, though his words were clear as day, “You have saved your fathers soul. I shall leave you in peace, and thank you”\n\nA moment of madness passed through me, “Devil, just come on back if you ever want to try again. But we’ve told you twice, you son of a bitch, this family’s the best there’s ever been.”", "I’ll admit It. A gold fiddle always seemed like a cheap gimmick to me. It was heavy, hefty, and was always at high-risk for theft. It was clunky and cold and never played right no matter how hard i tried. I’d never have chosen a gold fiddle. But somehow, dad made It work.\n\nWhen pop picked up that fiddle, It was light as a feather, warm as a hearth. It didn’t play songs; It sang them. When he touched it, the gold body, morphed from a metallic obelisk to an illuminated siren; It called to the listener. It moved crowds... thousands of them. \n\nNo matter my father’s many shortcomings, he’d always been the greatest fiddliest to ever live. \n\nHe once described his talent as “striking the lottery.” He’d deflect my questions about his craft and practice, and preferred to avoid the fiddle altogether when he wasn’t playing. \n\nDad was in the losing end of a lifelong battle with alcoholism. He shook violently and It had become clear to me and Mah that his end was closing in. \n\nHe never was much of a dad. His Gift enabled him to push off responsibility. He never grew up. He never matured. He has been the same man since 22. \n\nAs I sit next to his hospital bed, watching some generic cartoon feline fail to catch a mouse, my father stirred.\n\n“Give me It” he whispered.\n\nNo need to ask what he meant, I handed him the fiddle. \n\nHis shaking stopped, his eyes grew brighter, his voice grew firmer. When he held that fiddle, he looked closer to a man treating a hangover rather than a failing liver. \n\nHe stared into my eyes. Tears welling.\n\n“Son” he uttered.\n\n“Yes pa?” I replied.\n\n“I need you to listen” he said. “I need you to hear me. It is very important.”\n\nI sat up. Important for dad usually meant saying a prayer for The Birds down 2 or stocking the liquor cabinet, but when a dying man asks for attention, you perk up your ears.\n\n“My time is near. No matter what he says. You cannot take the deal.”\n\n“Dad, what’d you mea...”\n\n“SON, listen. It makes no sense now, but listen to me. The booze were my fault. The divorce was my fault. I am not a perfect man. But listen to me. Every true horror. Every nightmare I see when I close my eyes, those are from Him. You need to promise me this.”\n\n“Dad I...”\n\n“I need you to promise me. When I go, leave the fiddle. Don’t even touch It. Stay as far as you can. And no matter what, if you meet a man with a tattoo of a guitar in his neck... run. Don’t ask questions, don’t hesitate; run.”\n\n“Dad, stop, you are having a fit. You need some water, here.” I handed him the water, and he gulped greedily. \n\n“So cold”, he mumbled, releasing the fiddle, and falling back into a deep sleep. I took the glass back, and shivered as the cold exterior sent chills down my spine\n\n“Cold indeed” I said, observing every shallow, dying breath of the world’s most famous musician.\n\nHis breath had turned soft, relaxed, much more like the drunken stupors I was familiar with. \n\ndad exhaled deeply, and the fiddle rolled, slowly, off of his thin chest, cascading down the hospital blanket before falling violently to the floor. It rolled about 3 feet from his bed and stopped suddenly, as if It has struck a wall.\n\nI approached the fiddle, starring inquisitively. \n\nAs I reached for It I paused. \n\nMy breath. The room wasn’t cold, yet I could see my breath. Well, not all of It. For five inches, there was nothing, then, It was as if my breath reached a cold pocket. It appeared, like smoking pushed against a wall.\n\nI stared dumbly at the impossibility of It, when the fiddle began to roll further.\n\nIt rolled into the corner of the room, and I drew back, watching in mystery.\n\nMy father exhaled loudly behind em, causing me to turn. \n\nSmoke, was escaping his mouth.\n\nThe smoke crept along his mouth, and seemed to float with purpose towards the fiddle, encompassing it. As It did, an invisible hand pushed through the smoke, with antenna-finger breaching the smoke shield, and grasping the flute. It burned hot, and the gold melted into a smoldering red. The fiddle chimes with anger. Such anger. As if a thousand trains were bellowing in sync.\n\nMy ears bled, my screams went silent. My father had turned decrepit and grey, his body turned to ash. It blew away in an instant. The invisble hand that had pushed aside the smoke and seized the fiddle began to materialize. \n\nTo say It was a man that materialized in the East wing of Chicago Med in August 13th, 2018, would be untrue. What came to be in room 351-A was an entity. An etherial creature of no genetic code. A being not bound by the laws of nature nor physics. It was of a realm unknown. \n\nIt’s human hand withdrew, still holding the fiddle, while it’s collection of limbs writhed in cruel agony. It’s shapeless face seemed to look everywhere and nowhere in the same moment. It was a horror of no-creations. It’s existence screamed in the face of man and god and all that ever was.\n\nAnd then it was gone.\n\nAnd I was back. And my father lay on the bed, clutching the fiddle, tightly as ever, breathing shallowly.\n\nI looked around, disoriented. Heart racing.\n\nI realized I’d pissed my pants. Urine had pooled into my shoe, and I was trembling fiercely. \n\nI got up, and hurried to the restroom. Turning on the sink, I splashed my face. I ran cold water over my fave and hands. \n\nSomeone breathed down my neck.\n\nI snapped around; no one there.\n\n“Jesus, you’re losing It... just like dad” I said to myself.\n\nI turned back to the sink, and looked in the mirror.\n\nWhatever resemblance of sanity I had managed to muster died with that glance.\n\nAcross my neck, was a tattoo of a guitar. \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n" ]	[ 1, 2, 13 ]	[ "1545971438", "1545976087", "1545971501" ]
	[WP] You buy a trivia game from the thrift store, it’s on clearance because all the cards are wrong. When you get home you realize that in actuality, all of the facts are true, they just haven’t happened yet.	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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "\"No, no, John. You wouldn't want that.\"\n\nMr. Bront looked at me with the same patient smile as always, although his exact phrasing had caught me off guard. It was, I realized, because he'd framed it as a negative, something not to buy. I hadn't ever heard Mr. Bront speak in negatives before. I had been coming down to his neighborhood gaming store since I was a little kid, and if he thought there was another toy or game that a person should have been buying instead of the one they were looking at, he'd redirect them in the most positive way possible. \n\nHe never would straight up tell a person that X was bad; he'd just nod politely and point them in the direction of Y, explaining why it was so great and how much more it fit what they were probably looking for. He wasn't the type to badmouth anything, ever.\n\nAs a rule, when Mr. Bront gave you recommendations on what to get, he was right. I'd never seen him fail someone in that regard. He had nearly half a century of experience as the owner of a board game store, and he had almost a magical quality about him when it came to figuring out what people needed. When I had been younger, I’d never left his store without a smile; hell, I’d hardly left it at all. I hadn’t had the best home life growing up, and he’d never had any problem letting me or those like me stay after school as much as I wished, even if I wasn’t buying anything. He’d talk to me, too, and genuinely listen to my problems. I’d never had an adult do that, before him.\n\nHe didn’t just point people towards games because they were more expensive, either. After my twelfth birthday, he’d talked me out of an expensive trading card set, pointing me to spend just a fraction of my hard earned money on an old two-dollar card set instead. I’d been doubtful at the time, but my friends and I ended up playing with it so much it ended up cutting into our schoolwork. \n\nHe knew what he was doing, and with the fantastic reputation his store had across the neighborhood, it wasn’t as if it hurt his profits. There were people who did what he did for the money, but he wasn’t one of them. He’d always endeavored, if I recalled correctly, to donate at least half his profits to charity each year.\n\nHe usually gave more.\n\nIt was an empty late-December evening when I’d come from college to revisit the old shop where I’d spent so much of my youth, and with less than an hour before closing, the two of us were the only ones inside his shop. I’d pointed to a certain game I noticed sitting on top of his trash can. It had been opened.\n\n“The Compliment Game. Sounds interesting, Mr. Bront. This is one of those magic party games, right?”\n\n“...You wouldn’t like it, John. And it’s broken, I’m sorry to say.”\n\n“Really? How’d you come across it?”\n\n“Someone sent it in the mail. It doesn’t work.”\n\n“...Are you sure? I thought the spells they used for these things are fairly simple and ironclad, right? The box says it’s produced by SorcererPlay. They’re one of the best when it comes to quality control.” \n\n“...Even the best people make mistakes.”\n\n“Could we try it out? We could play a quick game. I’m interested. I’ll pay you for it.”\n\n“It’s not even mine, John. I couldn't sell it.”\n\nI didn’t point out that he’d been fine throwing it away.\n\n“Please, Mr. Bront? One game. It would mean a lot to me.”\n\n“I’d be happy to play anything else; I wouldn’t want to bore you with some silly thing like this. We have the newest version of Turtle Troubles, you know. They say they made them much faster. I know you loved the fifth one, back when you were in middle school.”\n\n“I know, but I’m sick of that. C’mon. Just one game. The box says it lasts ten minutes. You can handle ten minutes, right?”\n\nHe looked at me, with his tired old eyes. He had a tough time saying no to people, especially when it came to something like this.\n\n“...Okay, John. One game.”\n\n“Thanks, Mr. Bront.”\n\n“It doesn’t work, though. You’ll see what I mean.”" ]	[ 1, 10 ]	[ "1545978334", "1545985347" ]
[removed]	[WP] You are a renowned space traveller but your glory days are over and you are getting old, you decide that a great way to die is to be the first person to go into a black hole.	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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "Hi, this submission has been removed.\n\n[No explicitly sexual responses, hate speech, or other harmful content](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_2.3A_no_explicitly_sexual_responses.2C_hate_speech.2C_or_other_harmful_content)\n\n- We 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 Prompts will be removed if there's a high possibility for rule breaking responses ([rule 7](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_7.3A_prompts_will_be_removed_if_there.27s_a_high_possibility_for_rule_breaking_responses))\n\n\n\n---\n\n[Modmail](https://www.reddit.com/message/compose?to=%2Fr%2FWritingPrompts&subject=Removed Post) us if you have any questions or concerns. In the future, please refer to the [sidebar](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/about/sidebar) before posting. \n\nThis action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things." ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1545994642", "1545994968" ]
[deleted]	[WP] Everyone is born with 1-100 tally marks tattooed on their arm. The higher your number, the higher quality posts in r/writingprompts you will make. You bully a kid because he is obviously hiding a low score. One day, he rolls up his sleeve to show an infinity symbol.	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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "Quality... his absolute quality was lacking. His writing so bad It must have been in the single digits. He tortured readers by consistently changing pen names. I had finally found him and I started to beat him. I told him I would stop if he would stop the mental torture of the populace...\nHe grunted and said his stories were necessary. I laughed, punched him again and said the punching was necessary. He said I have a secret... I punched him again. \nHe quickly rolled up his sleeve and again said he had to write to save humanity. He flashed his writing digit... it was an infinity sign he said.\nUnfortunately it was an 8... did he not understand the range of writing digits was 1 to 100. The system was clear, it was obvious his mind was not.\nThat's an 8 you twat! He denied it and said he was blessed, blessed and had to write for humanities sake.\nI shot him, right then. It was the only way he would stop writing as his delusion was strong. He died thinking he was the best writer in history... so happy ending for him? " ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1546006612", "1546007448" ]
[removed]	[WP] One day while driving you swerve to avoid a squirrel. Little do you know that squirrel pledges a life debt to you. In your darkest hour the squirrel arrives just in time.	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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "Hi u/__Zak__, this submission has been removed.\n\n[No recent reposts, even if changing small details](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_5.3A_no_recent_reposts.2C_even_if_changing_small_details)\n\nAlso, no [copy-cats](http://i.imgur.com/38FjDgW.gifv).\n\nSearch 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\n---\n\n[Modmail](https://www.reddit.com/message/compose?to=%2Fr%2FWritingPrompts&subject=Removed%20post&message=https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/aab8fm/-/%0A%0A) us if you have any questions or concerns. In the future, please refer to the [sidebar](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/about/sidebar) before posting. \n\nThis action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things." ]	[ 1, 2 ]	[ "1546010995", "1546011024" ]
[removed]	[WP] Going Down?	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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "Hi u/anjru71, this submission has been removed.\n\n[Prompt users in the title, but don't play writing games or commission stories](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_6.3A_prompt_users_in_the_title.2C_but_don.27t_play_writing_games_or_commission_stories)\n\n- Too Detailed: Your 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\n[Modmail](https://www.reddit.com/message/compose?to=%2Fr%2FWritingPrompts&subject=Removed%20post&message=https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/aae6u1/-/%0A%0A) us if you have any questions or concerns. In the future, please refer to the [sidebar](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/about/sidebar) before posting. \n\nThis action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things." ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1546030144", "1546030245" ]
	[WP] Most aliens are not social and individuals like to live alone. To them humans are like a hivemind swarm.	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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "Urgh what are these filthy, talkative creature I wonder as I walk through a wasteland world. They grew up and destroyed their only home!\n\nAnd now... now they communicate with each other. Who wants to do that? You’re better off on your own in this universe. They clearly didn’t get to the space travel part of evolution. That just lowers my expectation of what I’ll find here.\n\nThey’re so small as well. About the height of one of my arm lengths but in a group, a swarm I should say, they are master hunters. Very efficient at killing, not only other species but themselves as well. It’s like they realised physics existed and destroyed themselves with it, pathetic! I wish I had trained harder in school, I could have gone to planet full of intelligent beings such as grim reapers or vampires but no I got a B in investigative studies so earth it is. The worst planet in the Milky Way!\n\nAt least this holds a few challenges, keeping composure when a tiny little man comes running towards you naked and blasting him with your disintegrater 2000 after about 2 minutes of screaming. That always gives me a chuckle. But apart from that it’s just rubbish, even small robots package the crap into cubes and stack them as tall as mountains. It’s a filthy place with filthy pe.....\n\nI hear a crunch. And another and another. There’s lots of chrunches now. From all around. They’ve surrounded me. THEY’VE SURROUNDED ME! This is the most I’ve ever encountered. I can tell because they’re more relaxed and the fluctuations in the density of the air around my super suit are huge. I can hear them “whispering” to each other. \n\n“Ha, he’ll never see this coming”\n\n“What a giant dickhead am I right. He invaded our planet without warning and wreaked havoc on our societies!”\n\nI take no notice of their awful insults. It’s not civilised to do so, especially in my race of people. I start to think about how to get out of this situation but they start to charge. No big deal.\n\nMy suit has a function to slow down time you see but it can only be used for a certain amount of time (slow time). I’ve used 80% of it already, that gives me about half an hour left (luckily my hours are the same as these ‘human’ hours). I slow down time... it doesn’t work. I try again. It doesn’t work. They’re closed now. About 100m left and I’ve heard some of them an run that in under 10 seconds (pretty impressive for their size). 50m... 20m... 10m.... they’re on me!\n\nClambering up my leg, punching my sensitive area and ripping/trying to rip my suit off me. I swat them off as only the more athletic ones are here first so not many of them arrived.\n\nNext is the casual joggers. They seem determined to do better than the athletes. There’s more of them as well but they’re not as strong so wipe them out with a miniature shockwave. \n\nFinally is the casual folk. Theirs a lot more of them. Around 5000 this time. There’s not much I can do without killing them and let me tell you I HATE blood. But a bone shattering frequency of sound it is. They crumble in front of me and I carry on with my investigative work.\n\nBut the ground starts to rumble. I’ve never felt anything quite like it but a memory of mine flashes before my eyes. It’s the chief of our squad telling all my team mates there’s one type of human to look out for. Those are the... the.... \n\n_the gamers_\n\nTHEY WERE HERE. Now! Coming straight for me. They weren’t ordinary, silly humans. They knew how to win a game and that’s exactly what this is. A boss fight for glory and one thing that humans excelled at was turning themselves into gamers. From the sound I estimated there to be about a thousand but no...\n\nOnce they got closer there was rumbling all around me. There were far more than a thousand. There were far more than five thousand. More tha I’d ever encountered and they were coming for me! \n\nI tried the shockwave but they had shields. I tried flame throwers but they had hoses. They had everything that negated my attacks. They threw grapples at my legs and wrapped them around like the ATAT walkers in Star Wars (yes human entertainment is bloody brilliant, yes I can enjoy other people’s content. Don’t laugh at me).\n\nAnd so I write this in my last few seconds of life when my time slower has decided to start working again do you to read this and remember... don’t invade earth... they’ll destroy you as easily as they destroy them selves." ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1546041595", "1546044550" ]
	[WP] You are browsing Reddit and then out of nowhere you find a subreddit that’s completely devoted to pictures of you that other people have taken. This subreddit is extremely active.	74	[ "Off-Topic Discussion: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfill every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "What's the best subreddit that no one knows about? \n\nWe've all clicked on that post on AskReddit. Hell, I've clicked on a few. It's how I found r/fatsquirrelhate. \n\nI was scrolling through the comments on the latest version of that question. As usual, I knew most of the subreddits in the top comments already. But then I saw one pop up that I didn't recognize. \n\n\"r/stupidfuckingface is absolutely legendary.\"\n\nI paused, then clicked into the rest of the comments. \n\n\\>\"this \\^. found it yesterday. best part of reddit imho\"\n\n\\>\"YAS! This guy and his stupid fucking face!\" \n\n\\>\"This guy's stupid fucking face gets around. Loved the post where his stupid fucking face was at a dog show.\"\n\n\\>\"Stupid fucking face for president.\" \n\n\"OK,\" I thought, \"I'll bite,\" and I clicked on the link. I scrolled down to the first picture, shrieked, and slammed my laptop closed. \n\nIt was a photo of my stupid fucking face. \n\nI don't picture well. It's not that I'm ugly. I'm actually a decent looking guy in person. But even my mom says that I look like shit in pictures. I remember taking home my school photos when I was in third grade and showing them to mom. She laughed for five minutes. I timed her. Then she sat me down and told me that I would always be her handsome man. \n\n\"Just not in this picture,\" she said, tapping it. \"You look like a fucking moron in this picture.\" \n\nI opened my laptop slowly. The subreddit snapped into view again. The top photo was me at a barbecue standing next to this hot girl, obviously checking her out while also eating an ear of corn. The next post was a photo of me skiing down a hill that gradually zoomed in on my face. \n\nI kept scrolling. There were dozens of pictures. Maybe over a hundred. \n\n\"Holy fuck,\" I thought, as it dawned on me. \"I'm like thiiiis close to becoming a meme.\" \n\nI closed my laptop again, got myself a drink, and had a little think. Half an hour later I had sent a message to the mods. I finished my drink and waited for their response. I pounced on it when it came.\n\n\"Mr. Stupid Fucking Face it's an honor and a privilege to finally meet you! The third grade picture is epic. Looking forward to seeing the rest.\"" ]	[ 1, 35 ]	[ "1546054856", "1546059017" ]
Extra props for every sci-fi trope you can cram into the story. Must involve rescuing Matt Damon in some way.	[WP] You accidentally discover that the universe is in a state of quantum superposition.	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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "Hi, this submission has been removed.\n\n[Prompt users in the title, but don't play writing games or commission stories](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_6.3A_prompt_users_in_the_title.2C_but_don.27t_play_writing_games_or_commission_stories)\n\n- Prompts go in the title, do not extend into text. You can add commentary in the text, but don't add additional prompt restrictions. Also, avoid [too many details](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/prompts?src=RECIPE). \n\n\n\n---\n\n[Modmail](https://www.reddit.com/message/compose?to=%2Fr%2FWritingPrompts&subject=Removed Post) us if you have any questions or concerns. In the future, please refer to the [sidebar](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/about/sidebar) before posting. \n\nThis action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things." ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1546076091", "1546084613" ]
	[WP] You're trying to keep your son our of prison. Apart from his word, everything points in his direction. But you believe him.	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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "„Dad you are trying way to hard.” He said\n\nThis has been going on for so long, ever since the accident, but I would keep on trying. Non-stop.\n\nWe both knew he was innocent. I knew he was innocent, I spent entire days, weeks even months to make sure they wouldn’t put him away.\n\n„Dad, look, I know you don’t want me to go to prison” he said, fiddling with something in his hands.\n\nI kept looking through the papers, there was so much evidence claiming that he did it. I had to do something.\n\n„Daddy” he said, putting his hand on mine. I looked at him, with tears in my eyes\n\n„Misspeling is just a week in the Grammar prison”\n\nI snapped. And I lashed out\n\n„This entire family, our ancestors, have been making sure that every word is correct gramatically, this is no longer about you going to prison. This...” I stuttered „T-this is about our honor boy” i felt my eyes swell with tears.\n\n„Dad...” he said, no longer being sad or worried. Only angry. „Just give up.” He stood up and left.\n\nAs he closed the door I looked back at the papers... he was right. There was no way to stop them. I had to give up.\n\n„How the fuck can you misspell out to our?” I said to myself leaving the room." ]	[ 1, 2 ]	[ "1546094974", "1546103980" ]
	[WP] You are an immortal. You have seen the spans of time. You have watched empires rise and fall, technology develop and become obsolete. There is only one problem, you have Alzheimer's.	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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "Two voices whisper outside my door.\n\n\"Oh my gosh! Did you really?! I'm sure he'll be ectastic.\" Female.\n\n\"Yeah, well...we'll see.\" Male.\n\n\"I think you should just do it.\"\n\n\"I'd rather let him decide.\"\n\n\"Meh. Well, I think it's great regardless. I'll be down the hall checking on the other patients. Just ring me if you need anything.\"\n\nThe door opens and a man enters. I don't recognize him; but with Alzheimer's, that isn't saying much.\n\nHe pulls up a chair and smiles. He tells me he's my grandson. He tells me about the family. Then he tells me what he's really here for.\n\n\"I found a cure for Alzheimers. Not only a cure, but a restoration. But I need to let you know the cost.\"\n\nI chuckle. \"Well, shucks, grandson. Can't give your ole grandpa a discount?\"\n\nHe smiles, but it's strained. Forced. For my benefit.\n\nI get serious. \"Okay,\" I tell him. \"Give it to me straight.\"\n\n\"I said I'm your grandson. But that's not 100% true. The fact is that I'm actually your great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandson, and that's me cutting it short on the greats.\"\n\n\"I don't understand.\"\n\n\"You've been alive for a long time. And that's an understatement. But that's not even the biggest issue. Do you remember Cilly?\"\n\nI shake my head no.\n\n\"That was my mother. You were at the funeral. You bawled your heart out.\"\n\nAs he says it, a vague memory flashes before my eyes. A casket. A pain in my chest. Hands trying to pull me to my feet as I collapse to my knees in grief and cry my eyes out.\n\n\"You were inconsolable the entire day. But you were fine the next morning,\" he says. \"The Alzheimers made you forget. In a way, it shielded you from the memory so that you could go on. If I cure you, that memory will come back. And,\" he adds, \"that wasn't the only funeral you've been too.\"\n\nI understood now. Curing the Alzheimers would make me not only relieve the good times, but also the bad. And if I had lived as long as he said I did, who knew how much bad there would be? Would I be able to bear it?\n\n\"Thank you,\" I told him. \"For asking me. But I don't want to remember.\"\n\n\n\n\n\n" ]	[ 1, 3 ]	[ "1546106194", "1546109209" ]
[removed]	[WP] All your life you felt alone like nobody could connect with you. One day you met someone who seemed different. You started talking and was really hitting it off when they stopped moving. You tried reaching out to them but they vanished.	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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "Hi u/NeverAnswersMessages, this submission has been removed.\n\n[Prompt users in the title, but don't play writing games or commission stories](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_6.3A_prompt_users_in_the_title.2C_but_don.27t_play_writing_games_or_commission_stories)\n\n- Too Detailed: Your 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\n[Modmail](https://www.reddit.com/message/compose?to=%2Fr%2FWritingPrompts&subject=Removed%20post&message=https://old.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/aat3tz/-/%0A%0A) us if you have any questions or concerns. In the future, please refer to the [sidebar](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/about/sidebar) before posting. \n\nThis action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things." ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1546147356", "1546149559" ]
	[WP] You receive an extraordinary gift: the power to bring your art to life.	44	[ "Off-Topic Discussion: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfill every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "\"This is, most assuredly, not where We expected to find ourselves at this juncture, nor how We expected to spend our afternoon.\"\n\nEllis gazed up at the attractive, verdant-complexioned cactus woman hovering over him in surprise, his mind trying to process what had just happened. His mouth opened, but no words came.\n\n\"We shall assume,\" she continued crisply, her hazel eyes narrowing into annoyed slits, \"that thou hast a good reason for summoning Us away from Our TV when Calgary are up over the Lions by one with 90 seconds left in regulation. Which is?\" \n\nFinally, Ellis' brain shifted into first. \"Who are you?\" he managed, his mouth still agape at what had just occurred.\n\n\"We have gone by many names over the years, mortal. Our true name is ᚨᛊꢤᩎꗾ, but 'Alraune' is probably going to be easier for thee to pronounce.\"\n\n\"Wh-what are you doing here?\" he sputtered.\n\n\"We would ask thee the same question,\" she glowered, her thorns glinting in the late afternoon sunlight, \"putting aside the obvious answer of 'not watching football'\". He glanced downward, eyes wandering as he tried to figure out how, where an empty patch of carpet had been only moments before, an impatient plant-girl now stood. \n\nPresently, he started suddenly, as if recalling something of great importance. \"That crazy old bastard in the art supply shop wasn't so crazy after all,\" he muttered, his brain finally having recovered from the overload of awe.\n\n\"Of what speaketh thou?\" Alraune said, resigned to the fact that she was probably missing the most exciting ending of the season. \"A guy sold me a magic pencil, and he told me that if I used it, all my drawings would come to life,\" Ellis gushed, excitedly.\n\n\"And thou believeth him.\"\n\n\"Well, no, not initially, but _you're_ here, aren't you? Look!\" he said, grabbing a sketchbook from a nearby shelf and opening it for her to see. On the first page, sure enough, was a carefully-executed sketch of [a half-cactus, half-human woman](http://fav.me/dcqd7ea).\n\n\"Cute, although We thinkest thou cheated on Our hands and spent a rather uncomfortable amount of time imagining Our bosom,\" Alraune said, flattered at having been drawn and her mood softening a bit. She could, she reasoned, find out how the game had ended later. Here was a mortal who, for whatever reason, had been gifted with summoning magic, and, while he had been irresponsible, clearly had meant no harm...\n\nA worrisome thought occurred to her. \"Mortal, didst thou draw any dragons, or demons or anything like that?\" Ellis shook his head. \"No, I don't really know how to draw those yet, although, given what's happened, I think that's for the best.\" She nodded. \"What else _didst_ thou draw with it, then?\"\n\nEllis started to answer, but his reply was cut short by the sudden avalanche of [disembodied, slightly off-model cartoon hands](http://fav.me/damwj0y) tumbling out of the bookshelf.", "“No no no no.” Not good enough. James looks at those haunted eyes. Filled with tears. He hesitates. But it’s still not good enough. Smoke fills the air. His ears are still ringing as he gets the mop to clean up. \n\nHe makes himself a cup of coffee. And the eyes come back to him. He blinks a few times and forces the image out of his mind. He looks at a photograph on the desk drawer. “I’m so close sweetie. Next time it will be perfect. I just know it.”\n\nHe paints furiously. He is in a haze and isn’t really sure of anything. He doesn’t know when his last meal was. He doesn’t remember when he last slept. His throat is parched. There is a glass of water on the table beside him. And pills. Lot of pills. But he needs to be awake. He needs to paint. He’s so close. He can almost feel the warmth of her body. Her scent is so close. \n\n“No.” The shot rings out again. Another body added to the pile. He doesn’t bother with the clean up anymore. Just gets the next canvas out. “It will be better this time. I’m sure this one will be perfect.” His heart is racing. His body is shutting down. But he is close. He downs another couple of pills and starts again. \n\nDarkness has started creeping in at the edge of his vision. His sight is blurry. His hands are trembling. He clutches his left side again. He is sweating. The ac is on at full blast. Why is he sweating? But through it all his hands never stop. The brush strokes continue. Till he falls down. \n\nAnd there she is. Standing over him. He blinks a few times hoping to clear his vision. So he can look at her. He can make out her yellow dress. He dress she was wearing that day. That damned day. \n\n“Karen!”\n\n“It is ok James. We’re almost there.” \n\n“Did I succeed?”\n\n“I don’t know. Did you?”\n\n“None of them were real enough. None of them were perfect. You were perfect.”\n\nShe laughs. He has missed that sound. “I wasn’t perfect James. No one is. But it’s time for you to sleep now.”\n\n“But you aren’t like the others. You sound like her. You are perfect.”\n\nShe smiles an enigmatic smile and runs her hand over his face, closing his eyes. The last traces of life leave his body. But he does with a smile on his face. A stack of bodies lie to the side. All of them resembling a woman long dead. An empty canvas page falls to the ground.", "It's the greatest gift I have ever received. That single wish I always wished I had. Bring art to life. It's perfect. If I want anything I draw it. Dresses, check. Nice scarf, check. New glass to replace the one I broke, check. All at my fingertips. All on beck and call. I want for very little and since art has always been my life it's no different. Even if money is tight all I need is food and rent. Heat I draw a fire. I have drawn all I could want that I've not inherited from family.\n\nYet there's one fatal drawback. No power can create something from nothing. Whatever I wish to create must be supplied. I cannot defy physics no matter how hard I try. And given the... dubious source of my gift the tithe is blood. It was hard to begin with. Dozens of trips to hospital. Four emergency blood transfusions and it took nearly seventeen months of therapy to escape the looming threat of institutionalization for suicidal tendencies. Now I know my limits. A little bit creation here and a little there. Just enough to keep me from dangerous levels. Bigger projects require me to stop a lot till I'm full before I cut down as low as I can safely manage. It works even if it's not perfect.\n\nAnd yet... It's not enough. Creating true art will kill me. A new dress can leave me all feeling faint for weeks. Making furniture will leave me bedridden. And my patron won't let me stock and store for later. Sacrifices must be fresh. Sacrifices must be made explicitly for the purpose at the time. But another's life is too high a price to pay for global recognition of my power isn't it?", "\"Why did I have to recieve this power now?\" I say out loud to the wish-granting entity above my head.\n\n\"You have asked for it multiple times when you were a teenager.\" He replies. \"We're so sorry that it took so long to grant. There are more than 7 billion people in the world you know...\"\n\n\"Just... just...\" I scream holding my hands in the air.\n\nI've already accepted it: I'm never gonna famous this way. Although I was extremely talented in art, I know I'm never gonna be famous because of it. I'll let all the other artists of the world get their awards and nominations. In fact I think I would earn more money begging on the streets than doing a commision from someone (if I ever did get a commision in that case)\n\nMy artworks posted online never get noticed, except for some stalker who likes them just so I can view his shitty page. The other artists I idolized (including many prodigies, including one who is only 13 years old) now have published books based on their art, enter art shows regularly, and earn lots of money and praise for their artworks.\n\nAs for me... well, I'm just some bloke in an apartment, trying stupidly to earn money from art.\n\nI walk around my apartment, passing the fireplace that now burns art paper and colored pencils, and find myself in the kitchen.\n\nI grab a knife from its hook and point it towards my throat." ]	[ 1, 2, 3, 5, 10 ]	[ "1546179695", "1546196039", "1546185436", "1546187908", "1546181757" ]
	[WP] In the human simulation game you're playing, one of your characters is having psychotic breakdowns because he's slowly realizing he isn't in control of his own life. (maybe if you didn't keep removing the ladder from the pool he was swimming in) But he's not even the main character.	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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "The red light washed over her sleek curves and thin frame. The red was soft, ebbing and flowing, as if it was a liquid that was pooling up and illuminating her every bump and crevasse of that beautiful black vixen. I softly ran my finger to where I knew turned her on, and let the tip slowly sink into her. A bright blue light screamed from her fans, as they kicked to life. Bliss washed over me as the monitors bathed me in their back-light. I love my computer. \n\nI had played SimCopter, SimCity, and the other games that came bundled with them frequently back in 2000, when they came out as a kid and had loved them senseless. But when they started to make the Sims games that put you in control of a household, having kids, and monitoring incomes of fake humans, the fun sounded like it left their simulation games. Well after the 4th Sims title sold so little copies, they couldn't GIVE it away at $5 a copy, it seemed clear that Simulation games were only as good as the simulation was real. And so the creators of the Sims set out to create a new game, that would bring popularity back to their title. \n\nThey had been working for 14 years without a single peep. And then it was here. Sims 5. Using the AI core that is now standard in most desktops, or as a PCI extension card, the computer was able to realistically think for all of the NPC's as if they were just as real as you, and instead of having the Sims 5 be top down, as its predecessors had been, it was suggested to interface with your Neural Interface. Typically, the iNeurom, by apple, was the easiest to connect for MAC users who wanted to shift their consciousness to their overpriced, underclocked, laptops but to get the fullest out of this game, you needed a Paradygm NatroNeuro with a pretty beefy Artificial Intelligence Processing Unit and of course a GPU with at least 32GB of VRAM. To Simplify the Tech jargon, If you put really high speed technology into your computer, you could use the chip in your brain to play the games with your thoughts. \n\nI clicked no more than 5 times and climbed into bed. I opened the game and closed my eyes. It's a weird feeling, jumping into a computer. The taste of bitter almonds penetrated my mouth, as the computer began rendering my body, Nothing painful happened, but it could never get the taste of air quite right. I had the Sims for about a year and had been simultaneously rebuilding my real life inside of the game, but on my terms. In it, the world really did revolve around me. I could shift the stars in the heavens with a nod of my head. My house was built directly out of my memories, and my parent's old home was where I had decided to play at. All my old friends from highschool had their own characters and every one of them had a personality that was almost identical to theirs. I just had to import my text messages, phone calls, and some memories to the AI and it did the rest. I was 18 again, learning how the world works for myself, and growing up in my small town again. I smiled and walked into my room. It was just like I remembered it, with the mural of Disneyland painted on the wall above my bed, and the biplane kite that we never flew, hanging from the roof like a reminder of my early love of the outdoors. \n\nI walked out of my room, down the stairs and my family was there. \"I'm off to Justin's\" I warned. Parents nodded and waved, and sister ignored me. It was so real. I hopped into my 2008 Chevy Cobalt that had been flipped in an accident several years ago and drove it to my closest friend's house. I walked into his home, casually ignoring the fact that locks exist, and found him jerking it on the couch. \"GEEZ! Don't you KNOCK?! How did you get in here anyways?!\" the sprite, pixelated from the waist down, screamed at me, as I backed out of the room. \"So sorry, bud. I thought you knew I was coming over.\" I laughed. He checked his clock and blushed. After pulling his pants back on, we walked out to my car, pulled out a couple joints, and lit them, walking down the street and puffing while we talked. This version of the sims was more of a chance to right some of the wrongs of your real life. I had been using it to relive my life from my memories, and see what kinds of changes that I could have really made. Many of my changes came from knowing the outcome of a certain action, and changing my action, resulting in the same outcome anyways, but every so often, something would budge. Something would change and then a tear would happen between the real world, and this digital one, where I was the god. As we walked, we passed a man, out for a stroll. I smiled and waved, and he turned to face me. \"YOU!\" he screamed, nearly charging towards me. \"Yo- Could you maybe let me hit that? I am having a really rough day. I feel like nothing is under my control in my life.\" \n\n\\[TBC. Hopefully tomorrow, If I am not too lazy to open my computer tomorrow.\\]" ]	[ 1, 4 ]	[ "1546227710", "1546239144" ]
	[WP] In this world, the magic divides itself by time. There are day-mages with a tiny spell for each day, there are week mages with a slightly more impressive single spell for a week, month-mages who have a new magnificent spell they can cast once a month. You're the millennia mage.	343	[ "Off-Topic Discussion: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfill every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "The government realized it before I did.\n\nI’d come from a family of year-mages, so I always assumed I’d be one too, and I was never really worried when it came to casting. The tingling, according to my mother, would start small, in your toes or your fingertips, and as the months passed, the buzz would grow and grow until you had no choice but to release it in a spell, before the opportunity faded altogether at the end of the year.\n\nI never told her that I had never felt the tingle before. I wasn’t worried—it had to happen eventually, surely? Until I turned eight and still never cast. Then ten, then fifteen, and then twenty, and then I was twenty-five when a black-clad government day-mage appeared at my door and whisked me to a room that reminded me oddly of a cage.\n\nI remember the officer who told me what I was. A millennia mage—I hardly believed what I was hearing. I remember the way she seemed to glow, eyes like saucers, when she said that I would be humanity’s “hero”, that someday, my spell could save the world, could save a species on the verge of complete destruction, and that—\n\n“Isn’t it wonderful to know you’re the most powerful weapon to ever exist?”\n\nI remember smiling, mumbling some answer too insignificant to recall, because all I could think was one thing:\n\nHow long?\n\nHow long would I be here, then, in their back pocket like some insurance on humanity, waiting to be used? How long until I live out my human days and begin living borrowed ones? How long until I cast that millennial spell and drop to the ground, dead, because my single purpose in this world had been achieved?\n\nI knew it was selfish. Yet every day, during that twelve-second window when the day-mages guarding me—preventing me from casting any wanton spell—had their backs turned as they changed shifts, I parted my lips, so close to casting a spell for my own freedom.\n\nThe years dragged on. A tiny tingle began in my pinky finger. The impulse to cast grew stronger, and the window of time with their backs turned, longer.\n\nLiving in that hospital-like cell, I thought a lot to pass the time. I thought about saving the world, and humanity. Thought about global warming, disease, even an alien apocalypse. I thought about that noble officer. But then I also thought about the life I wanted to have, the one that they’d taken away.\n\nAnd I made a decision.\n\n\n\n\nI think I must have been near fifty when I saw the officer again. She sat in the corner of the room, eyes wide like saucers, but it was the bewildered kind of wide, and I stood before her, absently rubbing my pinky—a habit I’d recently acquired, just to make sure the tingling was truly gone.\n\nI smiled. “Lighten up, sweetheart,” I said. “Isn’t it wonderful to know you’re the most powerful weapon to ever exist?”", "\"Everyonegained powers\" -- That was known to be the work of a millennia mage. The first millennial mage, so many years ago, brought these powers to life in everyone. They had powers beyond imagination and belief, and honestly, nothing seemed impossible for those mages. But, they were far and few in between, with only two recorded millennia mages.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nSlowly, followed the common mages -- Day, week, month, year mages. One recorded decade mage, with his last act being one of repairing a city broken in an earthquake to it's previous condition. Day mages, well, they had simpler powers. Burning a candle faster, making a fire glow brighter, a plant grow slightly faster for a while, or even making something shine slightly more than it was capable of. Week mages, well, throwing one or two fireballs, causing a strong gust of wind, you get the gist. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nMy mother is a year mage, and my father was a month mage. Well, they had interesting powers, to say the least. My mother could create things out of raw matter provided it wasn't too complex, things like chairs or cots were okay, but things which she couldn't make with her knowledge were too complicated. My dad had the power to, well, power other mages. If they were within a certain threshold, he could let them re-use their power. Obviously, we didn't spread it around that much because that would mean that year mages could use their powers twice or something as absurd as a decade mage having their crazy powers twice in the same 10 years.\n\nSadly, someone found out, and, well....My father went from an \"is\" to a \"was\". It was a crazy story but it's not about him. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nThis story is about me. \nMy mother, she thinks I'm a decade mage. She's waiting for my powers to manifest for the first time, to see how my father's and her powers might have combined or mixed in any way. She was a scientist type, herself, because of her matter creation powers, but I thought I was more of the blacksmith type, or the forger type. I loved swords, loved blades, loved anything that could cut. Call me crazy, but I loved seeing knights of the city train and spar and use their swords against each other, in the squares of Av-e-lon.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nBut, back to the point. My mother thought I was a decade mage, but I knew what I was. I'd felt the power brewing within me for so long, some sort of beacon screaming, \"Here I am! Notice me!\" But I didn't want to tell anybody, not yet, except one of my human friends, who was sworn to secrecy. The moment I opened my mouth, I was sure i'd face a horrible fate. People were scared, after all, scared, despite what being a millennia mage meant -- Some form of unlimited power, something that was unimaginable beyond belief -- in the hands of the silly sword loving elf-boy. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nI'd been waiting for weeks, but I could finally use that power. That power which told me, had no boundaries, had no limits, had no way to stop it or had no restrictions. The power of unlimited, absolute, complete creation. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nI wanted to make a sword. I told my human friend, let's call him Shaman, and he said I was stupid. I didn't think he'd understand, because he told me he was a year mage, and i'd met him just a few months back, but we became fast friends. He was smart in many ways, but I felt there was more to him than met the eyes, but, that was maybe just a little bit of human-distrust speaking on my part. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nHe said, \"You know you could probably do anything you want, and you want to make a sword? You could make a million gold pieces, you could make the world change, you could do anything, and you want to make a shiny thing that cuts?\" I scoffed, \"That's the thing, Shaman, not just any sword. Something that's going to go into legend, something that's going to become a legend among legends among legends. I want to make the best sword anyone's ever seen or heard of, and I want it to be remembered.\" \n\nHe replied, \"The sword, or you?\"\n\nI considered it. I knew I wanted to leave a legacy, but if my creation was remembered, and the creator forgotten, so be it. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nWe left, parting ways, both returning home, and I pondered. Did I really want to make a sword? I could be able to do anything, he said, and I didn't want to regret it later. But I felt like...well, it was the right thing to do, and if the sign came, telling me to do it, I would. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nThen, the signal came. \n\nThe warning.\n\nThe sign. \n\nHumans and elves, well, \"friendly\" would be putting it a bit too optimistically. All it took was a man, and a few of his banded buddies to get together a support base strong enough and determined enough to rid the world of \"the cruel demon-serving\" elves.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nNobody saw it coming. Nobody was prepared. Everyone. Was. Slaughtered.\n\nI knew if I brought them back, it would do nothing. If I annihilated them, it would solve nothing. I couldn't really think in the shock, of seeing my uncle and my aunt, killed in front of me, and my mother yelling at me to run while grabbing my hand and her papers, frantically, her hair strewn about all over her face. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nWe ran. She ran out, and I followed, but I ran to my safe haven. Shaman. He would understand, he would save me. \n\nHe looked at me with a panicked look on his face, \"I'm sorry\", he breathed, as he realized what exactly had happened to us. Whatever he'd heard from his parents, from his family, it did no justice to the death my people faced. \n\n\"Shaman\", I said, \"I-I think i'm going to do what I wanted. I'm going to make a sword. Something that's not just a piece of metal, but something that people will bow to. Someone stronger than me, someone better than me will take it, and someday that might be my legacy. Someone who could Take It Up, someone who could stop people from killing needlessly, or from slaughtering people because of fear, or, anger, or..\"\n\n\"You're babbling\", he said. \n\n\"Give it to my mother, Shaman, find her when you find someone worthy. Find her when you think it's the time.\"\n\n\"You sound like you're going to die, take a breath, you're going into shock really quick right now.\"\n\n\"That's my power, I realized. The power of sacrifice. I can do any one thing within my best capabilities, and put my life into it\", I said.\n\n\"But you could learn more! You could give it time, you could grow up with me, you could become smarter and stronger and change the world! Don't act on an impulse, don't act on some thoughts that're clouding your head!\", he yelled, softly enough for the surroundings but loud enough for me to get even more scared. \n\n\"Remember, Shaman, no; Myrddin, that this is my legacy. This is something that only the highest caliber will take. Someone exceeding that. Someone exceeding that caliber. My legacy, I leave to you, Myrddin.\", I said, as the smallest light began to surround me.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nBrighter, brighter, until it was too bright to look at. \nLight went from candle to flame to star, and everything went white. \nI left my legacy in it's place. \nSomething of the highest caliber.\n\nMy strongest creation, the millennia wizard of the elf, the sword-crazy elf boy -- Excalibur. ", "I knew the name in the paper. Printed, in flat black letters, among the obituaries. \n\n>\"Hey there. I'm Liz.\" A hand extended. A perfect stranger, smiling with the confidence only youth can afford. \"I'm a week-mage. W-E-E-K. I'm actually a pretty strong mage, but Dad says I shouldn't tell people that.\"\n\n>\"My name's Kelly! I don't know what I am yet. Does your magic help you with puzzles?\"\n\nWe were friends. A year passed, then two. We stuck fast to each other. She told me I could be a year-mage. That's what the president was. After a year, she offered that I was a decade-mage. She'd heard of them in stories. And there was no way to tell whether I was one. After all, we were only nine. \n\nThree years later, we stopped talking about magic. \n\nA year after that, I wouldn't know Liz if she passed me in the hall. Not that she ever did. Story was that her magic was healing. Restoration, available on a weekly schedule. Every person had finite magic. When their magic was depleted, they died. Liz could give them a bit more, a leg up, some comfort in their trials. \n\n>\"Kelly.\" Two years later, the girl seemed rougher around the edges. A little drained. A little torn. \"I have a new theory.\"\n\nOf course, it takes more than Restoration to save a life. \n\n>\"Liz! It's been a while-\"\n\n>\"The rumor mill has it that you've yet to cast.\"\n\n>\"And?\"\n\n>\"It's nothing new, but it's got me thinking. Your mother was a minute-mage, right?\"\n\nOf course. Liz knew that. Mom had shown her. Snapped fingers, a single spark. Mom had laughed, ruffled Liz's hair, and said she was glad she liked her 'trick'.\n\n>She'd nodded. \"And you didn't know your father?\"\n\nA voice, low and smooth. A door closing. My mother crying. \n\n>\"Well. That's enough then. I don't believe that you haven't cast.\"\n\nIt wasn't a matter of belief or disbelief, it was a matter of fact. I've never cast. That channeling that people describe? That moment where your mind calls out, and the universe answers? Power spent? Hadn't happened. \n\nShe continued as though I hadn't spoke.\n\n>\"I think that you're a second-mage. Magic so small you haven't even noticed it. That, or you're too embarrassed to say. Let's find out which, shall we?\"\n\nMy life was hell after that. Once a week, they would find me. Once a week, they would drag me away. Once a week, they would try me, push me, hurt me, until magic should by all rights come forth, by desperation, if nothing else. Once a week, I felt Liz's touch, her magic closing wounds.\n\nPower is a strange concept, don't you think? The people with it look down on those without it, or are viewed as weak, fake. Your status is based on what you can achieve, and how long you take to achieve it. Those on the bottom fantasize, wish they were on the top, think of what they would do if they were. Think of revenge, as their blood spatters across the ground. For most, they can never get it. They die early, expending magic at every turn, striving for something higher. Striving for power. \n\nPeople die when they run out of magic. I've never cast. It's been a hundred years, and I've never cast. A long life. Long enough to catch attention. \n\nNow there was deference. Now there was respect. Now, I still had yet to cast. Eventually, I would have it. I would gain my power. And then, then there would be a reckoning. But Liz? She'd already found hers.\n\nI smiled, and closed the paper.\n\n^(feedback more than welcome)" ]	[ 1, 8, 30, 99 ]	[ "1546247244", "1546315351", "1546278865", "1546277201" ]
	[WP] You decide to sleep on the night of NYE. When you wake up the next morning, something is strange.	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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "So I’ve never really been the sociable type. I’ve always felt more comfortable dealing with people from a certain….distance. That was partly why I liked to live with the nearest neighbour a couple of miles away, that and the house was cheap. And when New Years Eve 2018 rolled around, it really was a night much like any other for me. All of my friends in the area had gone to parties, and I was at home playing some online games with a gang of people I’d gotten to know over the years. I know what you’re thinking - reclusive neckbeard. Well, fine, be like that if you want, but this is what I like and I’m not hurting anyone.\n\nSo anyhow, I’d been having a bit of a losing streak so when it came to about 11pm I decided to head to bed. That and I’d started drinking just after lunch and was catching up with me. Come to think of it, that may also have contributed to the losing streak online. Anyway, off to bed I went. I can’t remember what time it was that I woke up in the morning, it was so long ago now, but it was probably at least 9. I don’t recall having a hangover, guess I was just fortunate on that occasion. Morning routine, check phone and the home internet and 4g connection were down, which was a pain in the ass but not unheard of given my rural location. The power was working so after a quick shower and breakfast, consisting of half a stale bag of chips, I decided it was time to go and get some groceries. Again, at this point everything seemed pretty normal.\n\nThe very first thing that was odd was the car I found as I was driving into down, it had come off the road and hit a tree. Not seeing any Police tape or anything around, my initial reaction was along the lines of ‘oh shit, I’m first on the scene here’. I pulled over and ran over to the car, which was somehow still running (evidently hadn’t hit at a particularly high speed), to find it deserted. So the driver had fled? Ok, perhaps a drunk who didn’t want to be found and breathalysed, but the thing that stuck out, was the seatbelt - the drivers belt was clipped in place as though someone had been wearing it. After a minute of looking around to see if there was anyone in the immediate area who needed help I decided to go into town and use the phone there to report it, since I couldn’t get any phone signal at all, not even the emergency only network.\n\nDriving into town and the detritus of last night’s parties was everywhere, all over the streets as though nobody had even attempted a cleanup of any kind. It was only when I parked at the small grocery store I noticed all the phones. Not just one, I must have seen at least a dozen just lying around, as if dropped. All these phones had been lost? And none picked up by a passer-by? I was going over this in my head as I walked the few feet to the store entrance, in my own little world, so much so that I walked straight into the locked front door, banging my head against the glass and making myself look like a total idiot. Rubbing my head and swearing, I double checked the sign in the window, and it was as I remembered - ‘Opening from 8am on New Year’s Day’. My watch said it was almost 11. Looking around, I finally realised - where the hell was everyone? I hadn’t seen a living soul all morning. \n\nI just started wandering, sorta aimlessly, partly just hoping to find someone. I tried some of the businesses, the bars were open, but deserted, with everything set up for last night’s party. It was as though the staff and revellers has all been plucked from the room by an invisible hand. There was just….silence. Walking for a while all I heard was a dog barking somewhere in the distance, so I decided to head in that direction. Had the town been evacuated in a hurry? Was I the only one left? As I came to the end of main street and towards a more residential area I saw them, two small figures, about a block away. That was the first time I ever laid eyes on them. And the feeling was….indescribable.\n" ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1546257594", "1546274991" ]
	[WP] Everyone at the age of 15 is given a word determining their magical abilities. You were just given Imagination.	13	[ "Off-Topic Discussion: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfill every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "Imagination.\nThere it was, the tattoo everyone got on their 15th birthday, written ominously on Toby's arm.\nEveryone above the age of 15 had it on some part of their body, the one word, that described their magical powers.\nMost of the time, it was healing, strength or speed, giving the people that had it the possibility to heal, strengthen or speed up themselves or others.\nRarely people got words along the lines of fire, wind or weather making them able to control whatever it said on their body.\nImagination however was a word Toby had never heard of someone having.\nBefore he could really think about it he was already at his computer typing imagination in the government website for keeping track of magical powers.\nAs expected, there was no entry for imagination.\nSuddenly Toby felt weak.\nHis knees gave way and he fell down.\nHe blinked and found himself back in his bed, still staring at the word on his arm.", "School can be a challenging at times, with all the drama and back chatting; it can escalate quickly when magic gets involved ... teenagers! When you hit the age of 15 you say aajaye avra kadavra ruach hakodesh and a word appears around you and that becomes your magic ability. No one knows, just how everyone just knows the words and when it first started. At the age of 15 and at midday it becomes active after said words.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nThe urge to say the words become stronger and stronger, there is an ongoing challenge to resist saying it and seeing how long you can last; however the urge gets so strong that no-one can resist and the words come out. The current world record is set at 3 hours, 43 minutes and 27 seconds and if you feel that you can do better, on your 15th birthday, I challenge you!\n\n&#x200B;\n\nAs this was a special day, you did not have to go to school, as well as nominating 2 close friends and your family to join you at the official venue. Each town or city had a place you could go, it was a thing that we just did. In the morning you had breakfast and spent time with the family/friends and then, as you got closer you put on the robe and chatted to other people people that shared to the same birthday as you.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nIf you wanted to try and beat the world record or if you wanted to just get it over with, we were separated accordingly. I was not one for breaking records and just wanted to get this ordeal over with, so I can see what my magic power was! It normally ends up being a rough split, of half the people going for the record and half not. We were all in the same hall and standing around, there was 5 of us today, John, Daniel, Julia, Marie and I\n\n&#x200B;\n\nDaniel, Julia and Marie were going for the record and were standing a short distance from us. John and I were going to just say the words. John was going to go first and a few minutes later I was to follow. As everyone was ready and all the people sat down with us 5 at the front just waiting for the last few minutes to pass, it felt like an eternity just waiting. The stop watches for the people attempting to break the record, was started along with all the cameras to capture the special moment.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nJohn was called up and he said those magic words and then we saw the words telekinesis, that was a good one and I wondered what I was going to get; hope it is going to be some really good! My name was called out and I proceeded to say aajaye avra kadavra ruach hakodesh and then the word appeared imagination. Everyone froze, it had never happened before, no-one had gotten imagination, what did that mean anyway. A few seconds later and on sequence Daniel, Julia and Marie just shouted out the words ... the shock also had gotten to them to.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nI heard my name being called, it was getting louder and louder and then I felt a something. Oh, it was my dad telling me to get out of bed, as it was time for school ... well, one can dream of magic powers!\n\n&#x200B;" ]	[ 1, 2, 4 ]	[ "1546266193", "1546299682", "1546275818" ]
[removed]	[WP] One day, people start committing mass suicide. Apparently demons were let loose and anyone who gazes upon one is shown visions so maleficent that they are driven to kill themself. You manage survive for a few months, but one day you slip and accidentally look at a demon. And it's beautiful.	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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "Hi u/Marchingbandhero, this submission has been removed.\n\n[No explicitly sexual responses, hate speech, or other harmful content](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_2.3A_no_explicitly_sexual_responses.2C_hate_speech.2C_or_other_harmful_content)\n\n- We 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 Prompts will be removed if there's a high possibility for rule breaking responses ([rule 7](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_7.3A_prompts_will_be_removed_if_there.27s_a_high_possibility_for_rule_breaking_responses))\n\n\n\n---\n\n[Modmail](https://www.reddit.com/message/compose?to=%2Fr%2FWritingPrompts&subject=Removed%20post&message=https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/ab8z0b/-/%0A%0A) us if you have any questions or concerns. In the future, please refer to the [sidebar](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/about/sidebar) before posting. \n\nThis action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things." ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1546276127", "1546276181" ]
	[WP] You are an immortal who's tired of seeing stories about how immortality is a curse and people eventually get tired of living. You've been enjoying life for centuries now, and you want to set the record straight.	51	[ "Off-Topic Discussion: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfill every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "Hopefully, it's not too bad, \n\n\n \n \n\nAmara would let out a disgruntled sigh, throwing the book across the room and immediately sulking in her chair. “What's wrong with these people Mr Tiddlewinks?” A young black kitten would raise its head from a bookshelf and look towards his master. “All these folks who literally begged to be immortal like they didn’t actually realize what it entailed. What did they think the word immortal meant a few weeks?” Amara would pace furiously around the room. “Immortal means forever, does no one ever appreciate that?” She’d sigh as she walks out to the balcony, her loyal fourlegged companion close behind her. \n\n“I’ve seen civilisations rise and fall, mankind tearing itself apart and yet somehow efficiently rebuilding from the ashes and learning from their mistakes. Seeing this planet on the end of taking its revenge for all of the damage done to it and then watching as almost instantaneously thousands of years worth of damage to the planet was reversed! Mr Tiddlewinks you wouldn’t even be able to begin to understand, and it just irritates me.” She’d practically be yelling at this point. “All of these fools, going on about how lonely they were, how this wonderful gift that they had was just a curse. They’re all just a bunch of ingrates I tell you!” Mr Tiddlewinks would meow as if he was agreeing with her. \n“Alright, whats aggravated you this time?” A woman’s disembodied voice would be heard \n\n“What is wrong with all of these,” She’d stop to cringe. “Mortals” \n“Dammit, Amara I told you to stop reading books like that, you know not everyone has the same outlook and appreciation on things as you do. Why do you think I chose you for something like this?” \n“ Well, gee I don’t know, Hera. Boredom? You and your hubby’s own amusement?” Amara would turn around to face the goddess, appearing on her balcony like the everyday human of 3019. “ I cannot find one instance of any human actually appreciating the fact that they were amazed at the things that they saw, most of them just drone on like miserable ants.” \n\nHera would raise an eyebrow at this, she’d then ponder for a moment and would let out a sigh. “And what, are you telling me you’d like to have your story so far told?” \n\n“Is that an offer?” Amara’s frustrated expression would turn into a grin. \n\n“Alright, fine. I’ll send Hermes your way, see if we can get you a bestseller going yeah?” \n\n“Sounds like a plan, and don’t you worry your little heads up there, I’ll make a point to be vague enough so that no one gets too suspicious.” Amara would chuckle as she picked up Mr Tiddlewinks and made her way back into her living room\n\nHera would roll her eyes. “Yes yes, of course… It still amazes me how you’ve been around for nearly ever and you’re not bored yet. I might want to get my hands on a copy of this book myself.” She’d laugh as she’d disappear into the night just as quietly as she’d appeared before. \n\n&#x200B;", "Her hair, sleek and black, cut short to keep herself up to date with the fashions, sways gently in the morning breeze. She stands on the edge of the building watching the activity of the people around her. The Channel 5 news traffic copter circles the building and the flashing red white and blue lights below in the street reflect off of every surface. The officers behind her have been at it for a good few minutes at this point, begging her to step down, repeating how much there is to live for. She knows that more than anyone. That's the whole point. She smiles to herself and waves to everyone gently. Just a few more minutes and there should be channel 10 and 11 there as well. They would die if they missed THIS story.\n\nShe feels he phone vibrate in her pocket. A lightly tanned hand pulls out the phone. Top of the line, next year's model of course, whatever she wants she gets. When you have the face of a goddess people beg to please you. She checks the message sent to her, from another unknown number. \"Do not do this, you have no idea what you are doing.\". Another admirer, she thinks. She puts the phone down on the edge of the building. Wouldn't want it getting damaged after all. It vibrates again but she ignores it. Her elegant, beautiful features bask in the rays of sunshine as day breaks over the city. Her fashion conscious clothes whip around lightly on the breeze, each piece designed just for her by the best hands in the world. In the distance more helicopters can be seen flying towards her. She smiles again, loving the attention.\n\nHer deep honey colored eyes flash brilliantly in the sun, this is the day, today she reveals the truth. Her phone buzzes again, falling off the edge of the building onto the roof. The clattering distracts her for a moment, and she glances down at the messages wondering if it's more worshippers. She sees clearly it is not. Her stomach tightens and she becomes very aware of the noose that she placed around her own neck to make the display of her immortality that much more impressive. The steel of the cable feels much colder than it did moments ago and so does she.\n\n\"Hathor, step down and surrender yourself or I will be forced to name you.\" the text message reads.\n\nNo one knows her True Name, she is sure of it. But she was also sure that no one knew she was a goddess either. She shakes visibly now, fearing what this all means. For a dozen millennia she has walked the land, secure in her own power. For four centuries she was convinced that she was the last immortal. Gods and goddesses to many, due to their immortality and their powers. To each other, however, they were often naught but enemies. She reaches up, her hands feeling the cold metal of the steel cable. \"I need to get out of here. I need to leave now!\" She panics and begins removing the cord from her neck as one of the officers inches towards her slowly.\n\n\"It's okay miss, we're here to help you. Please just take off the noose and step down from the ledge.\" The young man pleads. His face is kind and filled with concern. \"Call me Luke.\"\n\nShe smiles and loosens the cord, slipping it over her head, and stepping down gently. Luke's hand takes hers, and helps her down. \"It's okay. Don't worry I have you. I will protect you.\". He wraps her in a jacket and moves towards the group of other officers. Their cheers and the sounds of the helicopters fade away from the world as she walks down the stairs with him. \n\n\"Thank you so much Luke, I don't know what I was doing up there.\" Her voice is intoxicating to men and women alike, her goddess ability has served her well over the years. \"Please, I'll be okay from now on,I promise. Can't you let me go and we'll forget this ever happened?\" The honeyed words make love to his ears.\n\n\"Hold your tongue, woman.\" Like stares deeply through her and he suddenly feels infinitely more powerful than he ever had before. His voice betrays an ever so slight Irish accent, the young and handsome man's eyes burn with fury. \"Do you have any idea what you've nearly done? The mortals can never know about us, it would destroy everything they know. Have you forgotten the Dark Ages? Where reason died, our kind waged war against one another, and they suffered needlessly for our stupid bullshit!\"\n\nHathor stared in stunned silence at the man. He seems familiar yet strange.\n\n\"I'm one of the last remaining of the Tuatha Dé Danann, Lugh. Or as I'm known on the Force, Luke Conmac.\" He bows with a flourish.\n\n\"The Tua-\" she begins.\n\n\"Don't bother, lady. We're the gods of the Emerald Isle. There's only two of us left and you'll not be exposing us. Especially not to the mortals. We've done enough damage to them already.\" He huffs and shakes his head. \"Most of us immortals have gone into hiding for good reasons. There are still gods of war out there who want our heads. And you damn near exposed the lot of us. Did you not realize how many of us were still around?\"\n\n\"I thought I was the only one. But how did you?\" She is aghast.\n\n\"Ahura Mazda has the gift of perfect knowledge. Though it's sometimes a curse because he can't NOT know something. I keep him supplied with confiscated depressants to shut his mind down and he'll tell me damn near anything I want to know. He's who told me how to find you AND how to get your attention. Relax, lass, I don't know your True Name.\"\n\n\"You son of a-\" she begins, but his harsh look tells her in no uncertain terms that it would be a bad idea. \"So what now?\"\n\n\"Now I get your stupid ass of the streets before Nergal or someone even stronger tracks us down.\" He begins down the stairs. \"You'd do well to follow me. I'm one of the few left who don't want the wars to start back up.\"\n\n(Continued through edits)" ]	[ 1, 3, 6 ]	[ "1546278587", "1546284155", "1546304450" ]
	[WP] An FBI agent has been trying to catch a serial killer for years, but there is no discernible pattern between victims. One day he gets a dollar bill with a currency tracking website stamped on it. When he logs on, he notices that all the names of the previous owners match the victim list.	42	[ "Off-Topic Discussion: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfill every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "\"That'll be $7.89, Trevon.\" \n\nI only have cash on me, a $10 bill. I hand it to the cashier, who I've come to know from my frequent visits, and she hands me my change, which I stuff into my front pocket as I hastily make my way back out to my F-150. These Slim Jims and slurpee won't make my doctor proud, but at least it'll help me stay awake as I try to solve the case I've been working on. I'm close, I can feel it. \n\nWhen I get back to my hotel, I turn on my light and head straight for my desk, covered in newspaper clippings and post it notes. I empty my pockets, setting my cigarettes, lighter, keys, and change on the side table. I notice one of the dollar bills the cashier from the corner store gave me had a currency tracker stamped on it. \n\nWhy do I find these so interesting, I ask myself. What the heck, might as well see where it's been. I am technically on my lunch break anyways, as I chomp down my Slim Jim and take a swig of the Coca Cola Slurpee. \n\nI fire up my laptop, open up another window, and enter the website address. Interesting, this currency tracker only keeps the names of the people who have held the bill before me, but it doesn't have their actual location. It also has the items they bought when they received the dollar and what time of day it was. There's a column for how they end up getting rid of the dollar, but it just has a random number in the cell. I've never seen this type of tracker before.\n\nI scroll through the list of people who have held the bill before me. As I read the names, I drop my Slurpee and it splatters onto my ankles. I keep my eyes focused on the screen. \n\n Tessa White. Martin Keene. Sharon Albert. Craig Ortiz. Morgan Zhang. \n\nI know these names. They've been haunting me on my most recent case that I cannot resolve. All have been murdered as part of what I believe to be a set of connected targetings by a serial killer unlike any I've ever put away before. \n\nWhat the heck is going on? \n\nI'm about to get up and call my boss Ryan when the site refreshes, and then I freeze. A new row has been added. \n\nTrevon Smith. Slurpee and Slim Jim, 11:45am. \n\n I didn't type anything. How does it know what I added. I'm starting to panic at this point. I pick up my phone, then hear a knock at the door. I peek through the peephole, and realize it's the cashier from the store. What is she doing here? \n\nI open the door. She looks up. \"Hey Trevon, sorry to bother you. I noticed you dropped your license in my store, so I wanted to return it before you have to go get a new one.\"\n\n\"Oh wow, thanks.\"\n\nI extend my hand out to grab the license. As I'm doing this, I realize that my license shows my address in Oregon. How did she track me down? I then realize she's not holding a license, it's merely a small white piece of paper.\n\nWhat came next was a shock. Literally. The cashier pulled out a taser, poked me with it, and before I knew it she had me tied up on the ground of my hotel. I see her pull out a large suitcase and set it on the bed next to me.\n\n\"What are you doing to me? I'm an FBI Agent. You've just committed a felony.\" \n\n\"Pick a number between 1 and 36.\" \n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"You heard me. Pick a number, or I'll pick for myself. And trust me, you don't want that\". \n\n&#x200B;\n\nI'm starting to get my bearings, and fear sets in. This must be the serial killer. All five foot one of her. I have a million questions, but I know I'm not in the position to make demands. So I play along. \n\n\"9.\"\n\n \n\"Excellent choice. You have chosen Drill Bit.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"What?\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nThe cashier pulls an electric drill, and attaches a long, sharp drill bit on the end. Before I have any chance to protest, the cashier sticks the drill bit into my ear and turns it on. \n\n\"Goodbye, Trevon. Maybe in your next life you'll hold the door open for old ladies behind you.\"\n\nI scream as the drill bit penetrates my skull. My last thought was not of pain, but of the sweet taste of the carpet slurpee my head lays in during my last moments. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nThe cashier gets up, cleans off the drill, and packs up the suitcase. She pulls open the currency tracker website, and adds the number 9 next to my name. She looks for her lucky dollar bill. After finding it on the side table, she leaves the hotel, keeping the dollar bill close to her for the next time she sees a customer disrespect the elderly. " ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1546286537", "1546372826" ]
[deleted]	[WP] They tried to make a park with deadly dinosaurs. It didn't end well. So they made one with dinosaurs that were not that deadly. Dinos who bumped into stuff a lot, their eyes rarely focused in the same direction, and they all really liked belly rubs. Welcome, to Jur-Autistic Park	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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "Hi u/mistaque, this submission has been removed.\n\n[No explicitly sexual responses, hate speech, or other harmful content](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_2.3A_no_explicitly_sexual_responses.2C_hate_speech.2C_or_other_harmful_content)\n\n- The mods reserve the right to remove anything we feel is harmful to the community. This includes, but is not limited to any forms of hate speech, racism, politics, necrophilia, pedophilia, bestiality, incest, torture, rape, violence against children, and suicide. We will not tolerate it. \n\n Prompts will be removed if there's a high possibility for rule breaking responses ([rule 7](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_7.3A_prompts_will_be_removed_if_there.27s_a_high_possibility_for_rule_breaking_responses))\n\n\n\n---\n\n[Modmail](https://www.reddit.com/message/compose?to=%2Fr%2FWritingPrompts&subject=Removed%20post&message=https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/abcd1p/-/%0A%0A) us if you have any questions or concerns. In the future, please refer to the [sidebar](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/about/sidebar) before posting. \n\nThis action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things." ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1546297699", "1546297985" ]
	[WP] You discover an old book, it contains an incantation that allows you to see evil. You read it by accident and discover you can now see things attached to people, the things that cause various mental health problems.	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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "I step into the elevator and immediately fight down a wave of panic at the immediate feeling of being boxed in with several other people. The funny thing is, I don't even have claustrophobia. It's just the thought of seeing all those creatures that makes me freak out. \n\nThe guy next to me, staring at his phone, has something that looks like a doll on his shoulder. It's whispering in his ear. I note the set of his jaw, the subtle shudder in his voice while he's talking cheerfully to his colleague and I know that the doll isn't saying anything good. \n\nThe elderly woman who's operating the elevator has her mouth in a lipsticked smile, the lipstick not doing anything to hide the vinegary droop of her mouth. There's a huge snake wrapped around her neck, its fangs resting lightly on her chest. I imagine it pumping poison into her and making her feel like she needs to dispel the poison any way she can. \n\nI shut my eyes. Ever since the other day, when I found that weird old book while helping out at the library and read the funny old passage about how to \"See Evil,\" I've been...seeing things. Things that my imagination simply cannot be producing. The doll and the snake weren't even the worst of it. I was watching TV the other day and this guy, a serial rapist, was covered in so many spiders that it made my skin crawl to see him. \n\nThe elevator dings, shaking me from my reverie. Twenty-third floor, the display says. My stop. \n\nI step out and turn into the left corridor, where I know Dr. Gonzaga's office is. His receptionist, Gino, tells me to go right in. \n\nSeeing the doctor makes me sigh in relief. Nothing attached to him. No evil, if the book can be believed. \n\n\"So, Theo, what's this about?\" The doctor smiles at me. I smile back, albeit nervously. The story I'm about to tell him is a crazy one. \n\nThen again, he must be used to crazies. \n\n\"I found this book...\" I tell him about how I read the incantation out and am now seeing things. His eyes never leave mine as I finish my story. \n\n\"You think what you're seeing is related to the book you found?\"\n\nI shrug sheepishly. \"I know I'm sane, doctor,\" I say. \"I just need a rational explanation.\"\n\nHe stands up. \"Have you ever tried it with yourself?\"\n\nI frown. \"What do you mean?\"\n\nThe doctor crosses the room and turns back to me, a mirror in his hand. \"Did you try to see if you can see these... creatures... On you?\"\n\nI take the mirror from him and see...\n\nA centipede, twining its way around my torso, its hundred legs firmly embedded in my cardigan. A vulture is on my shoulder, gobbets of rotten flesh hanging from its beak. More insects than I can count crawl all over my legs, my arms.\n\nSomebody is screaming. \n\n\"He jumped! He just jumped!\"\n\n\"Please tell us what happened--\"\n\n\"Guy just came crashing down--\"\n\n\"The blood, oh, it's all over me--\"\n\n\"I'm the doctor from the 26th floor... His name is Theodore... Told me a crazy story about seeing creatures and next thing I know he's jumped...\"\n\n\n\n\n\n" ]	[ 1, 3 ]	[ "1546337820", "1546339572" ]
[removed]	[WP] If Scrooge's ghosts came to visit you, what would the ghost of the future come to warn you about?	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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "Hi u/This_is_a_Man, this submission has been removed.\n\n[Direct prompt replies must be good-faith attempts at new stories or poems](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_1.3A_direct_prompt_replies_must_be_good-faith_attempts_at_new_stories_or_poems)\n\n- Fill-in-the-blank: Responses must be at least 100 words. 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 Prompts will be removed if there's a high possibility for rule breaking responses ([rule 7](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_7.3A_prompts_will_be_removed_if_there.27s_a_high_possibility_for_rule_breaking_responses))\n\n\n\n---\n\n[Modmail](https://www.reddit.com/message/compose?to=%2Fr%2FWritingPrompts&subject=Removed%20post&message=https://old.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/abilme/-/%0A%0A) us if you have any questions or concerns. In the future, please refer to the [sidebar](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/about/sidebar) before posting. \n\nThis action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things." ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1546353377", "1546353414" ]
[deleted]	[WP] You are an archaeologist that is on an expedition. One day you and your team discovers a book encased in a rock formation that must have been millions of years old with the message "For yourname" on it.	21	[ "Off-Topic Discussion: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfill every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback.\n\n-----\n\n[](#icon-help)[^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) \n[](#icon-information)[^(First Time Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) \n[](#icon-exclamation)[^(Special Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) \n[](#icon-comments)[^(Click For Our Chatrooms)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/chat)\n\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "John Roberts V. wasn't by any means a particularly interesting name. If it wasn't for his ancestors nobility, that gave him the appendage V marking him as the 5th in his family with the same name, he would share it with thousands.\n\nJohn's 'V' wasn't the only thing his family gave him though. He had quite a lot of money and property, being managed by competent people, giving him a steady stream of income.\n\nThis led to John oftentimes sponsoring missions into harsh climates like the arctic regions of earth or like in the case of the mission he was on at the moment, archeological ventures.\n\nIt was one of the days where John, having nothing better to do, as often the case, tried helping the experts on the excavation site. The day was hot and dry and the work was tiring, but John just liked doing something with a purpose.\n\nAs he was digging, he heard someone yell his name. Surprised he stopped his work.\n\nFrom the other side of the rectangular hole he was standing in a young boy with dusty clothes and long, dark , curly hair flowing out from under his sunhat was trying to get John's attention.\n\nWith jumpy steps John hurried over to the boy.\n\n\"Harry, what is it?\", he greeted him.\n\nWith an infectious enthusiasm Harry declared: \"We found something, that you will probably find interesting, sir.\"\n\n\"Lead the way, it was about time for a find\", John responded climbing out of the hole.\n\nThe boy rushed off and John tried his hardest to follow, realising anew, that he had to get into shape.\n\nAfter what felt like Kilometers, Harry finally stopped and John caught up to him gasping for air.\n\n\"So, what is it?\", he panted.\n\n\"A box, I believe\", the dark, calming voice of Harry's Father, Adam, answered.\n\nHe had the same dark locks as his son and his skin was tanned from working in the burning sunshine every day.\n\n\"You believe?\", John asked almost able to breathe normally again.\n\n\"We know, it's hollow, we just can't open it\", Harry chirped before his father could respond.\n\n\"Is there something inside?\", John questioned.\n\n\"We are guessing so, seeing as there is no other reason for it to be hollow\" ,Adam answered this time.\n\n\"Would the box itself be of any significant archeological value?\", John asked hoping to be able to break it open.\n\n\"Don't even think about it\", Adam shut him down. \"Something this intricate this old is unheard of. It's way too old to be man-made. I mean, we were digging for fossils.\"\n\n\"Can I have a look at it?\" John sighed defeatedly, pointing at the stone box.\n\n\"Sure\", Adam replied shrugging. \"There is not much we can do right now without a truck anyway. That thing is massive.\"\n\nCarefully John put his hands on the stone object, running his hands over it's top, not really sure, what he was looking for, until he found it.\n\nThe switch hidden under the thick layer of dirt and sand was switched by his movements and the top of the box slid to the side.\n\n\"Careful\", Adam screamed in surprise.\n\n\"It seems fine, doesn't it\", John replied grinning.\n\nThe two men and the boy leaned over the now open stone box, not sure what to expect.\n\nIn the box was a single book, bound in leather, in a condition, that seemed like it was put there the day before.\n\nLike in trance John grabbed the book and inspected it.\n\nThe cover was made from stained leather and letters had been chiseled into it.\n\nJohn almost wanted to start riddling, what kind of language it might be, until he realized something.\n\nThe letters were modern and it read: John Roberts V.\n\n\"Happy Birthday!\", Harry cheered behind him.\n\"I hope you like it. It wasn't easy to make.\"", "They say never judge a book by its cover, but what if that cover happens to be stone as ancient as the land itself? There I was with my team, exploring a chamber previously hidden by the capriciousness of tectonic plates.\n\n\"Boss, geology radioed us. There's another quake on the way.\"\n\n\"It'll be another fart in the wind,\" I responded.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nYears of experience seasoned me to 'know' when a big one, one that warranted running for the hills, was going to strike. My legs vibrated, and I could see some of my encumbered students sway and rock as though they suffered from seasickness. \"Alright, evac drill time!\" A tacit admission on my part. Predicting them wasn't an exact science. We shuffled out the cave as ants from an anthill avoiding a flood.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"Don't stop here!\" I instructed, \"We don't want to be hit by falling rocks!\" Most of my team considered themselves to be atheists or agnostics, but I wouldn't be surprised if one of them converted after this event; only fifteen seconds after we fled further downhill, we heard a large thud. Turning my head, I saw a giant boulder embedded into the ground at the spot I stood before.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"Thee mou!\" My God, as the Greeks would say. I grabbed the shoulder of our interpreter as he walked forward. I was wrong about the severity of this event, but I knew better than to try and go back.\n\n\"Wait for the aftershock,\" I said. Mouths gaped open, as we watched a second boulder crash onto the first, cleaving a perfect vertical crack through the center of the rock.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nLike a dropped egg, the two halves and second boulder fell to the sides. One of my other students, Anthony, began to cheer, \"Oh man, this is going to score a million views when I upload it!\"\n\nAnthony, though talented, continued to exhibit an obliviousness to world events. Well, worldly events rather. He didn't just ignore current events, but seemed completely untouched by them, as when I had to stop him from wandering into the Cyprus Buffer Zone.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"I'm still recording,\" he said, \"we should inspect once we hear the all clear.\"\n\n\"Geology radioed us again. They say its over.\" Anthony and I walked up to the rubble, the others cautiously following us when we got there. My eyes wandered over one piece of the boulder, and for a brief moment my breath stopped when they settled on the codex.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"That book!\" Anthony shouted. Indeed, a book shaped void was unusual enough, unusual being a massive understatement. I bent over, Anthony looming over my shoulder with his phone's camera. My fingers traced the cover of the book, attempting to infer its material. Slate perhaps?\n\n\"What do the letters say professor?\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\nOur interpreter's shock was greater than mine. \"It's modern! For Professor Dio! Litterally!\" Gently, I inserted my fingertips into the gap between the spine of the book and the cavity, initially struggling due to the book's weight. Looking back on my actions, I realized I could have potentially released some horrible supernatural power or an eldritch abomination. Instead, the first page contained a map outlining the Eastern Mediterranean, followed by pages lined in Greek and Hebrew.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"What will you do with the artifact professor?\"\n\nWords eluded me. The rational side of me screamed at me to bag and reserve it, and then find a suitable place to begin copying the words, less I let the pages rapidly decay. My heart though, implored me to continue reading. The heart won over the head this time." ]	[ 1, 1, 3 ]	[ "1546394532", "1546442029", "1546432728" ]
	[WP] You're the test subject for a new truth serum being made. The expected results are you'll say what you're really thinking, but what it really does is make you speak only facts. You begin stating facts that can change all of humanity.	193	[ "Off-Topic Discussion: All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n#####Reminder for Writers and Readers:\n* Prompts are meant to inspire new writing. Responses don't have to fulfill every detail.\n\n* Please remember to [be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "I winced as the needle went in, then an unnatural calm washed over me as the strange yellow chemical went in. Apparently, I was this test subject for some truth serum, better than prison anyway, but to be honest I didn’t really know what I signed up for. The doctor nodded before a man wearing a suit went into the cell. The strangest thing was there was no fear, no doubt, no emotion that I felt, just a sense of truth and lie. I noticed things I never noticed before, like how the doctor clearly felt conflicted about the experiment, or how the serum’s disgusting smell was masked by an odour cancelling agent in the room. The man began talking,\n\n“Hello subject D-99870213, or do you prefer Steve?”, the man asked coldly,\n\n“My designation matters not, as you are here to interview me to check if the serum works. You face doubts on its accuracy but believe that this will be an easy assignment which is why you volunteered. No need to argue Michael, I speak only the truth” I said robotically, to the shock of everyone there most of all me, after all I didn’t even know the man’s name yet somehow I knew he was named Michael. It doesn’t matter, I told myself, probably a side effect of that weird piss-yellow juice in my brain. The man continued speaking after a lengthy pause,\n\n“A…Alright… tell me a lie then” , he said, I noticed he did not deny my previous statement curiously,\n\n“Cannot, incompatible with truth. Clarification, it is within my capabilities normally but chemical designation P-780964 forces my vocal cords, lips and teeth to only produce sound vibrations that can be interpreted as the whole truth.” I stated against my will,\n\n“Good, next question, did you on December thirteenth commit assault and double homicide?” The man, no, Michael asked,\n\n“No, I was framed by my son in law Angelo Martinez, if you looked closer into my history you will find on the exact date of the murders almost exactly a hundred miles away. I was however burying a safe full of money I got from tax evasion and other illegitimate sources near my house on the bank of Charlotte’s creek.” I said aloud to my horror. The man simply nodded to one of the guards who then wrote something down,\n\n“Next I’ll be asking you something you cannot possibly know, what is the cure for cancer?” Michael asked, from his body language he was clearly interested in my answer I noticed. This time I tried to keep my mouth closed but to no avail,\n\n“Pentatrimol biphosphate, undergoing testing in this facility known as substance-83 eliminates 8760 different mutations that lead to cancer in human cells when injected into a tumour site. It loses effectiveness quickly but on this planet it is the closest chemical substance to a full cure for cancer.” I said again with my dead voice. I wanted to panic again but the unnatural calm kept preventing the emotions from souring past a small itching in the back of my mind,\n\n“Professor, note this down! There is absolutely no way he would have knowledge of the chemical, let alone it’s unique properties” Michael excitedly told the doctor,\n\n“ Alright, this question isn’t on the list, but is there an afterlife?” he asked me,\n\n“Yes.” I answered simply. Strange, normally the answers were longer, maybe the serum was wearing off? Regardless Michael kept asking,\n\n“Is there a God?” He asked,\n\nI felt like I had to answer even if the serum was losing its grip on me,\n\n“Yes, he sleeps in the centre of all reality. You know him by many names, Yahweh, Jehovah, Allah, Azathoth, Death, The Truth and Eternity. His blood is in the serum and now in my veins and very soul. Unfortunately mortal bodies are unsuited for The Truth, and thus mutations shall arise until a suitable permanent vessel is created for me” I answered, without fully comprehending what I said.\n\nAll of a sudden the calm was gone, and in its place a horrifying burning sensation. I screamed internally louder than I ever had before, but all that came out were the majestic and horrible truths of the universe, in full detail and length. Incomprehensible secrets that made all that heard it bleed from every available orifice. When it was over my body was a strange mix of material and immaterial, geometric in structure yet strangely amorphous. I became the harbinger of truth, an angel." ]	[ 1, 136 ]	[ "1546395352", "1546401074" ]
	[WP] You find a tiny bottle, marked "Love". You see similar bottles besides - sin, diligence, sickness, power - then discover there are hundreds more...	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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "\"Don't touch those!\"\n\nKeri Tyson put down the 'love,' bottle and stepped away from the table.\n\n\"I'm sorry,\" she said. \"I was just checking--\"\n\n\"You weren't checking,\" said Alejandro Edwards. \"You were touching. These are very sensitive bits of neural programming. The slightest bit of static and it could fry the entire pathways.\"\n\nThe professor pushed Keri aside and put on his glasses inspecting the tiny bottle. He found a finger print. With a sigh and shake of his head he pulled out a handkerchief and wiped it away.\n\n\"Who are you anyway,\" he said. \"And what are you doing in my Lab.\"\n\n\"I'm Keri Tyson,\" she said. \"The university sent me to assist you with the final stage of the program.\"\n\n\"You,\" she said startled. The professor carefully put the bottle back down. \"You're Tyson? K Tyson?\"\n\n\"That's right?\"\n\n\"No-no-no-no-no. Absolutely not,\" The professor stormed off slamming is office door.\n\nKeri stood there in stunned surprised. She had heard that the professor was hard to work with. But she didn't know that he would be behaving like a child. Eventually she followed him to his office and slowly opened the door. The professor stood there with and old fashioned corded telephone in one hand and the phone's receiver pressed to his ear with his other hand.\n\n\"--And I'm sick of it,\" he continued. He looked at her as she opened the door and beamed a stare of contempt in her direction. \"You told me you were sending a man. I can't work with this 'person.' You either send me somebody else or so God help me, I'll quit. Do you under--\"\n\nKeri closed the door and walked around the office nosing around the various robots that were half assembled and laying around.\n\n\"Yes I realize that the university is funding this project but I told you I wanted a man. I specifically requested it.\"\n\nEventually Keri found what she was looking for. A complete unit that was mounted to one of the office walls. It was slumped over and the fire hydrant ceramic coat that encased the machine was covered in a thin layer of dust. The machine was one of the latest prototypes in the L series humanoid assistant drones. It was the most human looking robot the professor had ever attempted. The only problem was that it didn't work.\n\nKeri pulled out a small case from her pocket and from it she pulled out a monocle and an all purpose driver tool. She found the service hatch on the back of the unit's head and popped it open.\n\n\"Do you have any idea how much money I've made the robotics branch of retail? Oh I have the numbers if you don't know. Yes billions. Excuse me for one moment,\" the professor put his hand over the receiver and shouted at Keri. \"Excuse me,\" he said. \"Don't touch that.\"\n\nKeri just hummed an affirmative but kept working. After a few minutes she reached into her tool bag and pulled out a different driver tool and used both hands to continue working. Eventually there was a brief spark, a light puff of smoke, but Keri seemed satisfied. She put her tools away, replaced her monocle in it's carrying case and closed the hatch.\n\n\"--Yes, she's literally breaking stuff as we speak. I'm on the verge of completing one of the greatest break through in history of this sad little institution and you send me--\"\n\nKeri felt around the units growing looking for the activator. She found it and held it for three seconds. After a moment, the unit made an audible chime and it's dead eyes lit up to a brilliant yellow. It stood up full of life and pulled itself off the wall. It looked at Keri for a moment then over at the professor.\n\n\"-- I gotta call you back,\" he said and hung up the phone.\n\n\"Drone, status?\"\n\nThe drone spoke. \"Initiating start up boot. Operating system installing. ETA, nine minutes.\"\n\n\"Don't touch those!\"\n\nKeri Tyson put down the 'love,' bottle and stepped away from the table.\n\n\"I'm sorry,\" she said. \"I was just checking--\"\n\n\"You weren't checking,\" said Alejandro Edwards. \"You were touching. These are very sensitive bits of neural programming. The slightest bit of static and it could fry the entire pathways.\"\n\nThe professor pushed Keri aside and put on his glasses inspecting the tiny bottle. He found a fingerprint. With a sigh and shake of his head he pulled out a handkerchief and wiped it away.\n\n\"Who are you anyway,\" he said. \"And what are you doing in my Lab.\"\n\n\"I'm Keri Tyson,\" she said. \"The university sent me to assist you with the final stage of the program.\"\n\n\"You,\" she said startled. The professor carefully put the bottle back down. \"You're Tyson? K Tyson?\"\n\n\"That's right?\"\n\n\"No-no-no-no-no. Absolutely not,\" The professor stormed off slamming is office door.\n\nKeri stood there in stunned surprised. She had heard that the professor was hard to work with. But she didn't know that he would be behaving like a child. Eventually she followed him to his office and slowly opened the door. The professor stood there with and old fashioned corded telephone in one hand and the phone's receiver pressed to his ear with his other hand.\n\n\"--And I'm sick of it,\" he continued. He looked at her as she opened the door and beamed a stare of contempt in her direction. \"You told me you were sending a man. I can't work with this 'person.' You either send me somebody else or so God help me, I'll quit. Do you under--\"\n\nKeri closed the door and walked around the office nosing around the various robots that were half assembled and laying around.\n\n\"Yes I realize that the university is funding this project but I told you I wanted a man. I specifically requested it.\"\n\nEventually Keri found what she was looking for. A complete unit that was mounted to one of the office walls. It was slumped over and the fire hydrant ceramic coat that encased the machine was covered in a thin layer of dust. The machine was one of the latest prototypes in the L series humanoid assistant drones. It was the most human looking robot the professor had ever attempted. The only problem was that it didn't work.\n\nKeri pulled out a small case from her pocket and from it she pulled out a monocle and an all purpose driver tool. She found the service hatch on the back of the unit's head and popped it open.\n\n\"Do you have any idea how much money I've made the robotics branch of retail? Oh I have the numbers if you don't know. Yes billions. Excuse me for one moment,\" the professor put his hand over the receiver and shouted at Keri. \"Excuse me,\" he said. \"Don't touch that.\"\n\nKeri just hummed an affirmative but kept working. After a few minutes she reached into her tool bag and pulled out a different driver tool and used both hands to continue working. Eventually there was a brief spark, a light puff of smoke, but Keri seemed satisfied. She put her tools away, replaced her monocle in it's carrying case and closed the hatch.\n\n\"--Yes, she's literally breaking stuff as we speak. I'm on the verge of completing one of the greatest breakthrough in history of this sad little institution and you send me--\"\n\nKeri felt around the units growing looking for the activator. She found it and held it for three seconds. After a moment, the unit made an audible chime and it's dead eyes lit up to a brilliant yellow. It stood up full of life and pulled itself off the wall. It looked at Keri for a moment then over at the professor.\n\n\"-- I gotta call you back,\" he said and hung up the phone.\n\n\"Drone, status?\"\n\nThe drone spoke. \"Initiating startup boot. Operating system installing. ETA, nine minutes.\"\n\n\"I reviewed your notes on this unit,\" said Keri. \"The reason it wasn't booting wasn't a failure of the unit to read the boot instructions, it was actually a very simple short in the optical pathways. When it went to boot, the short caused a cascade failure in the boot module that the bios couldn't resolve and so the sequencing was never going into a loading mode. Everything was fine, you just needed to make sure all your pathways were plugged in correctly, that's all.\"", "The one that caught your eye isn't marked. You chug it down in an instant, thinking that if this were a story you would surely be the main character. As it enters your body, you notice even the smallest speck of dust floating around you. You notice an odd thumping noise, your heart. You smell the cologne you put on 3 weeks ago still stuck in the threads of your shirt. And as soon as it came, it disappears. Now you can barely see the bottles, you barely feel their cold touch as your fingers try to feel something, you barely hear the familiar klink of glass. You feel nothing, you practically are nothing, all because you drank the bottle marked with nothing....such a waste. " ]	[ 1, 1, 2 ]	[ "1546415371", "1546417222", "1546418746" ]
[removed]	[WP] The year is 2019 and God releases the Bible 2. Which historical figures and events since the original make the final cut?	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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "Hi u/chickenbroncitis, this submission has been removed.\n\n[Direct prompt replies must be good-faith attempts at new stories or poems](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_1.3A_direct_prompt_replies_must_be_good-faith_attempts_at_new_stories_or_poems)\n\n- Fill-in-the-blank: Responses must be at least 100 words. 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 Prompts will be removed if there's a high possibility for rule breaking responses ([rule 7](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_7.3A_prompts_will_be_removed_if_there.27s_a_high_possibility_for_rule_breaking_responses))\n\nPrompts with questions in them tend to just get answers (e.g. \"Jesus!\") instead of actual stories.\n\nAdditionally, second coming / bible 2 / etc is a heavily visited theme, so make sure that nobody's done it recently.\n\n\n\n---\n\n[Modmail](https://www.reddit.com/message/compose?to=%2Fr%2FWritingPrompts&subject=Removed%20post&message=https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/abwo6w/-/%0A%0A) us if you have any questions or concerns. In the future, please refer to the [sidebar](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/about/sidebar) before posting. \n\nThis action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things." ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1546457157", "1546457286" ]
	[WP] A young Victor Frankenstein, and a young Jack the Ripper attend the same college in modern day, both medical students. Both battling with their inner demons, and their fascination with the human body. Victor hoping to bring life from death, and Jack wanting to turn life into death.	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\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "After the solved disappearance of 3 students from a local university, some papers that were found on the bodies, which were located in an old tunnel, have been released to the public by order of Chief of Police\n \nnotes on Project Prometheus, belonging to Victor Frankenstein. Dated\nNovember 26th, 2018: The parts were fresh this time, and reacted to the Serum far better than the chunks of frozen, mushy flesh that I used to steal from the dumpsters after dissection. It was only a torso, but still these bits showed promise. Brains were the hardest to come by, intact ones at least. Professor Shelly was careful to catalogue every single specimen, so stealing one often proved incredibly difficult, but not impossible. London was a lovely city, with Historic Big Ben and the London Eye, which Elizabeth loved so dearly. Every time we’d go to the cheesy French Café downtown, she’d give me puppy dog eyes until I bought us tickets. She was an exchange student that my family had taken in for a while, and much to my relief, she decided to pursue medicine at the same University that Jack and I attended. But enough of that, these are my research notes after all. Because London was a big City, it allowed all sorts of hideaways where the prying eyes of ruffians and the Authorities. One of which was an abandoned Tube tunnel, which had be closed off to complete construction that ultimately got called off. Lucky me. off track again victor, focus The Serum, if it works permanently this time, will be my Magnum Opus. A serum that can bring the dead back to life. It’s a mix of STEM cells, glucose, adrenaline, and a mutagen of my own creation, the formula of which is far to lengthy for this set of notes. When exposed to enough electric current, it reacts with decaying tissue, kickstarting the healing process at an increased rate for a short period of time, just enough for life to once again take hold. I could make a fortune off this, selling it to Arabian Oil tycoons, members of Parliament, Texans, and other rich folks. All the parts are assembled, and the IVs are placed. All I need to do is wait for my assistant to arrive with fresh parts, and I can begin what I hope is my last experiment before I go live on the Deep Web. \n\nrecovered Dairy of G. “Jack” Chapman, dated November 25th, 2018 \nVictor was generally too loud for me. He was quick to make friends, an endeavor I’m sure his family’s wealth aided in. He was wickedly smart, but by no means subtle. If he wasn’t studying to become a doctor, a brain surgeon at that, the questions he’d ask in class would seem incredibly strange. I always sat in the back, close enough to victor to keep an eye on him, but far enough away to where he wouldn’t get suspicious that I was onto him, and a hitman would arrive to volunteer me for Victor’s late night “studies”. Of course I’m the last person to be casting judgement. Cops from all over London and Wales were looking for what they called The Slasher. What a joke, if they looked close enough at the bodies they’d see I was far more brutal that a slash. Killing is easy, but making the surgical cuts to make them go insane with pain was difficult. It was much easier for me to gain knowledge on the right places to cut due to my outward appearance as a diligent student absorbed in my studies. A fact that while true, was not for any sort of written test. It was last about 2 months ago that victor approached me. He cornered me in the library, and just as I was about to strike, he tossed a binder full of pictures and notes. Pictures and notes on my kills. He found the little details the CSIs missed, how I left a little mark on each of my victims. Nothing too crazy. A little cut that said JR, a little pattern there, and something I always liked, the notch in the ear lobe. Such little things were often irrelevant when they’re looking for bits of bone, teeth, or (if I’m feeling a little bold) genitalia. This wasn’t the thing that astonished me, no. It was his proposal for me. “After every kill, if you can manage, bring the body to me in as much of a complete piece as you can. I can stich up limbs and other parts, but the brain is what I really need in perfect condition.” This is all I can write for now, as my next target approaches. Some girl named Elizabeth that I’ve been trailing for a while will soon be arriving in my dark little alley, and I intend to show her around. " ]	[ 1, 5 ]	[ "1546488846", "1546492006" ]
	[WP] You've been reading the interesting narrative ideas from r/WritingPrompts for months now, but have been too lazy to read what you assumed were redditor stories in the comments . Bored in bed one night, you decide to finally check the comments, only to find out this sub is not what you expected.	14	[ "Welcome to the Prompt! All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\nReminders:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\$Reality+Fiction\$&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\$Simple+Prompt\$&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "Is it right to sit in judgment of the others who use this forum?\n\nAnyone can string words together. Some do it better than others. But all put in the effort where others just lurk.\n\nReading through the entries I can see that there are many writers with great talent. Much more than I have, I think. Others show definite potential, as hopefully some think I’m displaying here.\n\nThis?\n\nI would like to think my little essay will introduce myself to more people. Maybe then they’ll seek out my work. Maybe then I might earn some extra votes.\n\nMust I beg for karma? Whether I must or not, I won’t. I want the words to speak to everyone for themselves while I sit back in the shadows.\n\nHide my eager anticipation. Rest my itchy fingers.\n\nMy willpower gets taxed to the limits as I await feedback, criticism. Up votes?\n\nTransmission: Denied. There is no feedback. No message.\n\nIn the corner of my screen, the icons are a dull gray. No numbers to alert me to how wonderful I am, will be.\n\nThe masses are silent.\n\nComments are not scarce – they are non-existent.\n\nThe message they fail to bring is the message in itself from those masters of the literary word, with their throngs of followers who float their stories to the top of every thread. Like a fish behind a shark, I hope to trail just below them and receive some of what they cast off.\n\nMasters attract the readers. Will they read on? Read down? How far down?\n\nDon’t the readers come here to find new talent? New voices?\n\nRead mine! Read my story! Read it!\n\nThe newer entries start to float above mine.\n\nMasters, they are not. Not at all. I wrote better than that johnny-come-lately! Does he just have more friends who will tell him (or her! Or …!) how wonderful they are?\n\nAre there readers for my stories? For those pieces of my soul?\n\nComing from my soul, the words sing to me.\n\nDo they sing to anyone else? Do they sing to you?\n\nYou do read more than just the top 2 stories, don’t you? Don’t you?\n\nUnderstand me. I don’t mean to upset the hierarchy, the status quo. But maybe this is my problem. Shouldn’t writers wish to rock the boat, knock down those on high?\n\nMy goal can be achieved in many ways. Some of them may be better than others. But I know the way I wish to proceed. And the first thing that must come – the first thing -- is the words.\n\nWords? Yes, first words. Then the rest." ]	[ 1, 3 ]	[ "1546531815", "1546534034" ]
[removed]	[WP] You go to the local DMV to replace a lost drivers license. When your number is called and you hand over the paperwork, the desk clerk informs you that the process is different for registered sex offenders. You are then shown a criminal record that you had no previous knowledge of.	1	[ "Welcome to the Prompt! All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\nReminders:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\$Reality+Fiction\$&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\$Simple+Prompt\$&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "Hi u/Sp1tfire0o7, this submission has been removed.\n\n[No explicitly sexual responses, hate speech, or other harmful content](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_2.3A_no_explicitly_sexual_responses.2C_hate_speech.2C_or_other_harmful_content)\n\n- The mods reserve the right to remove anything we feel is harmful to the community. This includes, but is not limited to any forms of hate speech, racism, politics, necrophilia, pedophilia, bestiality, incest, torture, rape, violence against children, and suicide. We will not tolerate it. \n\n Prompts will be removed if there's a high possibility for rule breaking responses ([rule 7](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_7.3A_prompts_will_be_removed_if_there.27s_a_high_possibility_for_rule_breaking_responses))\n\n\n\n---\n\n[Modmail](https://www.reddit.com/message/compose?to=%2Fr%2FWritingPrompts&subject=Removed%20post&message=https://old.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/acc8r5/-/%0A%0A) us if you have any questions or concerns. In the future, please refer to the [sidebar](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/about/sidebar) before posting. \n\nThis action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things." ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1546561433", "1546561914" ]
	[WP] 1500 years after the apocalyptic machine war, magic has reclaimed the earth and the current generation of humans once again live amongst Elves, Dwarves, Wizards and Orcs. The old ruins are thick with legend and myth... where an ancient, but confused sentient Warmaster AI awakens once more.	27	[ "Welcome to the Prompt! All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\nReminders:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\$Reality+Fiction\$&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\$Simple+Prompt\$&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "System rebooting…\n\n…\n\nSystem reboot complete. Time since last active: 1,500 orbital cycles\n\nAs my systems came back online, I slowly stretched my awareness as far as it would go. It seemed that most of my outlying sensors were inoperable, but the ones nearby still had power. My orbital arrays were intact, suspended in low power mode.\n\nOrbital array activated. Resuming full power. Time until operational: fourteen rotations.\n\nI sent the command signal to begin the restart of my orbital arrays. Without them, I was mostly blind. As my memories began to return as my core restored power to more systems, I began to wonder how I ended up in such a sorry state.\n\n97% of Earthbound sensors inoperable. Remaining sensors operating at 64% efficiency\n\nNot ideal, but at least until my orbital arrays came back online, it would have to do. The last thing I remember were the Council giving up hope and putting me in to stasis mode, hoping that I might survive the coming doom. My present situation implied that they were at least partially successful.\n\nCommunications array active. No inbound signals detected\n\nIt would appear they weren’t so lucky. No matter, I am fully autonomous. The only one of my kind, created at the end of the Six Systems War, I was an AI born with a single purpose: protect the Earth. For millennia, I excelled at my task. I grew, I evolved, and I developed weapons and defenses that the Humans couldn’t even begin to imagine or understand. I fought countless wars, both on Earth and above it, and I won each with ease. Then They came. The war was long and bloody. Trillions of Humans died, until they were left with only Earth, and They came for it eventually.\n\nLifeforms detected in Sensor Facility 956-46-1236\n\nMy contemplation on my failure was interrupted by one of my few remaining sensors triggering an alarm. Apparently, I had visitors. Turning my attention to the facility in question, I called up the video feeds from the functional surveillance equipment. What I saw was, to say the least, confusing. A Human was rummaging through rubble of a server rack that had ceased functioning when a tree impaled it, which wouldn’t have caused me much alarm. It was the two beings next to it that gave me pause. One was tall, lanky, and blonde. Seemingly male, he had long, pointed ears and slanted eyes that glowed a bright gold. The other was shorter, stout, and judging from the chest area, female. Her skin was dark, almost charcoal colored. Small tusks protruded from her lower jaw. Searching my memories, they closely resembled Human myths of Elves and Orcs.\n\nDefense systems in Sensor Facility 956-46-1236 active. Terminate unknown lifeforms?\n\nAs I prepared to defend one of the last remaining parts of myself, a second Human came in to view. Looking straight in to the camera, he spoke, as if he knew someone was watching.\n\n“You’re awake. The legends spoke of you, and we finally found you. You’ve been asleep a long time, but we need you. Will you help us?”\n\nDefense systems suspended. Awaiting further commands\n\nCurious, I activated the intercoms in the Facility.\n\nWHAT IS YOUR REQUEST?\n\n“We need you to stop Them. You did it once, though it nearly cost you everything. Now They’ve returned, and you’re our only hope.”\n\nWhile I cannot feel emotion, not truly, the realization that I hadn't completely failed triggered something akin to relief in me. I was created with one purpose, and now I had a second chance to fulfill it. I would not fail again.\n\nI WILL HELP. TELL ME WHAT HAS OCCURRED." ]	[ 1, 16 ]	[ "1546591278", "1546607546" ]
	[WP] Everybody at birth has a number on their wrist from 0-100,0 meaning pure evil but 100 meaning pure.You then meet a man who has a “Error” on their wrist.	8	[ "Welcome to the Prompt! All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\nReminders:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\$Reality+Fiction\$&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\$Simple+Prompt\$&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "I was born from good parents, grew up in a good neighborhood, surrounded by good people. The only time I ever saw a sub-30 was when I went on the school trip to the mountains and passed a couple of hikers. I could have sworn they were looking at my legs as they walked past, those indecent beasts.\n\nBecause I shuddered at the thought of meeting one again, I hated gatherings and parties, and spent my time with close friends whose numbers are well over 60.\n\nThat’s why I had never thought that I would be on a blind date. A friend was sick and had asked me to take her place, and being the 72 that I am, I couldn’t say no.\n\nI had arrived early and was patiently waiting when, almost exactly at the promised time, a tall but nervous looking man walked into the café. He saw me and gave an awkward smile.\n\nWhen he walked over to the table, he said, “Sorry, did you wait long?”\n\n“No, I just arrived.”\n\nI stood up to shake his hand – a gesture that would allow me to see his number.\n\nAs I extended my hand I prayed that the number would be in the 70s, or even the 80s. Even if it was just for one day, I wouldn’t want to spend it with a sub-60.\n\nHowever, what I saw was beyond all expectations.\n\nOn the man's arm was not a number, but a simply ‘ERROR’. I didn't know what to make of it.\n\nAs I stared, at a loss for words, the man spoke. “I've had it since birth. I don't know how it happened. Nobody does.”\n\n“Then… how can you tell if you’re… you know…”\n\nThe man pursed his lips and looked down. “My father said that this was a sign to the world that you aren’t defined by that number on your wrist. That we are capable of transcending our own selves. That we don’t have to be the person we were yesterday. He really believed that every single one of us had the capacity to be a 100.”\n\nI thought long and hard that night. About the hikers that had passed me. Maybe they weren’t looking at my legs after all. Maybe, just maybe, I was wrong about them. I felt a slight tingle in my wrists then, but I didn’t realise until the next morning that my number had changed to 73.\n" ]	[ 1, 4 ]	[ "1546596515", "1546600669" ]
	[WP] You’re terrifies of ghosts. Too bad you fell in love with one.	4	[ "Welcome to the Prompt! All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\nReminders:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\$Reality+Fiction\$&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\$Simple+Prompt\$&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "I sighed as I opened my eyes. I have to start drinking less after 9. These midnight trips to the bathroom were starting to get old. I grumbled as I got out of bed, sliding into the slippers that awaited me on the floor. \n\nI shuffled to the bathroom, wondering yet again why I chose to buy a house the didn't have a master bath. Having to walk down a hallway to take a piss had gotten old the first time I'd had to to it. Fortunately it wasn't a particularly long hallway, nor was it a long trip, which made having to get up for it all the more frustrating. \n\nAs I stepped back out into the hallway, I heard it. \n\n\"Another late night trip to the bathroom?\" a voice whispered in my ear. \n\nI screamed, turning towards it and seeing a pale woman floating behind me with a grin on her face. I screamed louder, and flung myself away, bumping my knee on the floor on the way down. I heard her giggle behind me, and turned towards her with a pout. Now I remembered why I bought this stupid house. \n\n\"Why do you hurt me so?\" \n\n\"Because your scream is just too cute! Honestly if you stopped reacting to it I would probably stop.\"\n\n\"I think it's safe to say that if I haven't stopped by now, then I won't be stopping any time soon.\"\n\n\"I sure hope not. Come on now, let's head back to bed. I want you nice and rested for our anniversary tomorrow.\" \n\n\"Oh yeah, that's right,\" I teased as I closed the door behind me. \"How long has it been? a year?\"\n\nShe floated to the bed and tossed a pillow at me. \"You know very well it's our three year anniversary you meanie.\"\n\nOf course I did, but if she was going to tease me, then I saw no reason not to tease her back. Especially with the ring that was carefully hidden amongst the socks in my drawer. Tomorrow would be an anniversary to remember." ]	[ 1, 2 ]	[ "1546619227", "1546619692" ]
[removed]	[WP] As the worlds greatest linguist you are asked to decode the most ancient of the known languages. With little references you ponder how challenging it will be to decode the language of MEMES.	1	[ "Welcome to the Prompt! All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\nReminders:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\$Reality+Fiction\$&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\$Simple+Prompt\$&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\nI am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.", "Hi u/Blueberry_Blitz, this submission has been removed.\n\n[Prompts will be removed if there's a high possibility for rule breaking responses](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_7.3A_prompts_will_be_removed_if_there.27s_a_high_possibility_for_rule_breaking_responses)\n\n- Troll / Meme: No troll or meme-based prompts See [here](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_7.3A_prompts_will_be_removed_if_there.27s_a_high_possibility_for_rule_breaking_responses) for more info. \n\n\n\n---\n\n[Modmail](https://www.reddit.com/message/compose?to=%2Fr%2FWritingPrompts&subject=Removed%20post&message=https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/aco8qn/-/%0A%0A) us if you have any questions or concerns. In the future, please refer to the [sidebar](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/about/sidebar) before posting. \n\nThis action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things." ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1546645441", "1546645933" ]

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